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idyllic-ghost · 12 hours ago

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Title: Boyfriend Privileges Pairing: Mingyu x gn(femme presenting)!reader Genre: fluff, suggestive, established relationship Wordcount: 9.9k Rating: 18+

Synopsis: The ten times Mingyu has shown off his "boyfriend privileges"

Warnings: suggestive content not suitable for anyone under the age of 18, food mention, pet names, reader presents as feminine at one point (wearing a dress) but it still reads as gender neutral, slight angst, bathing together

Disclaimer: The scenarios and depictions in my works are fictional and do not represent real-life situations. They do not aim to reflect the complexities of any culture, city, or individual. All characters are entirely fictional, regardless of names or descriptions.

A/N: this fic was created before i decided to leave this blog permanently, and put on queue to be posted now. this blog is still not active. read here to find out why

MDNI: Adults only. Minors are not allowed. Any minors found will be blocked.

Masterlists

You're not sure exactly when it began or what prompted it, but a few months into your relationship, Mingyu started asking you to do little tasks for him. They're always small, often tedious things. Whenever you hesitate, he flashes a charming smile and invokes "boyfriend privileges." Maybe it's the playful way he says it or the endearing look in his eyes, but you always end up giving in.

Mingyu, ever perceptive, has noticed this and teeters on the brink of abusing his "powers." But it doesn't bother you. You'd happily indulge your boyfriend's privileges.

ଘ(੭◌ˊᵕˋ)੭* ੈ♡‧₊˚ 1. Overgrown puppy cuddles

Mingyu is a large puppy that just doesn’t understand how big he is. At least, that's how you see him. Whenever your boyfriend comes home from an especially rough day at work, he wants cuddles. It doesn't matter what you're doing, he'll pout and beg until you sit down on the couch and let him cuddle up in your lap.

"You're crushing me," you mutter.

You're sitting with your legs over the couch cushions, your back against the armrest. Mingyu's laying over your body like a human blanket—one of those electrical blankets that people use in winter. The man is warm.

"Boyfriend privileges," he mumbles, his voice muffled against your skin.

You sigh because you know he's right, you'd let him do this even if he's crushing your bones. Letting your fingers tangle in his hair, Mingyu let's out a sound of approval and nuzzles his head deeper into the crook of your neck. His arms are around your torso, making sure that you don't even try to move. Not that you would.

"Did you have a long day?" you ask softly and he hums. "My poor baby..."

You coo at him, and he whines—he's relishing in being doted on. Mingyu's arms squeeze you a little, a silent sign that he wants you to continue.

"You work so hard, don't you?" You wait for Mingyu to nod before you coo again, "My hardworking Gyu, you're doing such a good job. People love you, you know that? They appreciate your work. So do I."

Mingyu tilts his head up, his eyebrows raised as he silently asks for confirmation. "I really do," you add.

"Thank you..." He puts his forehead against your chest and sighs. "I needed this... needed you."

"I know, puppy." You smile and ruffle his hair.

Mingyu groans and lifts his upper body off of you, his arms resting on the armrest behind you. "Oh, finally! I can breathe!" you exclaim dramatically.

"Sorry," he mutters.

You cup his face in your hands. "I was kidding. I don't mind." You lean in and press a kiss on his pouty lips. "You're like my blanket... or like a Saint Bernard who's forgotten he's not a puppy anymore."

Mingyu smiles at that, before leaning in to litter your face with pecks that have you giggling and squealing.

ଘ(੭◌ˊᵕˋ)੭* ੈ♡‧₊˚ 2. Random massages

You're in line for a ride at an amusement park when Mingyu suddenly turns to you. It's been at least five minutes since you started waiting, and you can tell he's getting impatient. His foot taps rhythmically on the ground, and he keeps glancing at his watch.

"Can you give me a massage? My shoulder's stiff," he huffs, rubbing the offending spot for emphasis.

"Again?" Your eyebrows furrow with concern. "Gyu, you should really go see a specialist..."

Mingyu pretends to ponder this suggestion, then shakes his head with a playful grin. "I don't need a specialist if I have you."

You sigh and roll your eyes, but can't help smiling at his pleading expression. His big, puppy-like eyes, the way his smile showcases his adorable canines, and his hands clasped together in a mockery of prayer make it impossible to refuse. "Sure," you mutter, already resigning yourself to his request.

The line moves a little, and you both shuffle forward a few steps. You're momentarily distracted by the imposing structure of the rollercoaster ahead, watching as the cart sends passengers hurtling through loops and dips at breakneck speed. Your reverie is interrupted by Mingyu poking your side.

"What?" you ask, looking back at him.

"Please?" he repeats, his tone even more imploring.

"Now?" You glance around at the crowd surrounding you—though no one seems to be paying attention, you feel self-conscious.

"Now," Mingyu insists, nodding earnestly.

"Babe, I can't massage you here. You know you shouldn't take off your shirt in public, right? Even if we do find somewhere private, I don't have any oils—"

"Not a big one." He interrupts, holding up his hand with his index finger and thumb inches apart. "A small one. Just on the spot on my shoulder."

"Gyu—"

"Boyfriend privileges," he pleads quietly, eyes wide and hopeful.

You can't say no to him when he gets like this. With a resigned sigh, you motion for him to turn around. He does so eagerly, bending his knees slightly to give you better access to his shoulder. Placing one hand on his neck and the other on his shoulder, you begin to work your thumb into the knot you find there.

Mingyu lets out a soft, contented sigh, only audible to your ears, as he relaxes almost immediately under your touch. The tension in his shoulder melts away, and his head drops forward slightly, eyes closing in relief. The gentle hum of the amusement park, the chatter of the crowd, and the distant screams from the rollercoaster all fade into the background as you focus on easing his discomfort.

Despite the oddity of the situation, there's something intimate and endearing about the moment. The world around you blurs, leaving just the two of you in a bubble of your own making. And as you massage Mingyu's shoulder, you can't help but feel a warm rush of affection for him and his silly, endearing ways.

ଘ(੭◌ˊᵕˋ)੭* ੈ♡‧₊˚ 3. Sharing food

The restaurant is alive with the hum of conversations, the clinking of cutlery, and the occasional burst of laughter. However, all of this fades into a distant background as you focus intently on Chan's story. It's a rare opportunity to meet the members in person, despite your boyfriend working so closely with them, so you want to make the most of every second.

Mingyu, on the other hand, is lost in his own world. Ever since he finished his meal, he’s been zoned out—leaning back in his chair with a distant look in his eyes. You can't decide if he's impatiently waiting for Chan to finish or if he's just succumbed to a food coma. But when he casually reaches over and steals a fry from your plate, your doubts about the food coma vanish. You glance at him, and he meets your gaze with a small, mischievous smile before grabbing another fry. You let him.

A sudden gasp beside you snaps you back, and you turn to see Jun staring at you with mock jealousy from across the table. You smile and tilt your head questioningly.

"What?" you ask, bemused.

"You hit my hand when I tried to borrow a fry from you," Jun accuses, his eyes narrowed at you.

"First of all, I gently slapped it," you correct him. "Second of all, you were stealing, not borrowing. Don't try to make your crime sound better."

Jun huffs dramatically, and you can't help but grin. Meanwhile, Mingyu, taking advantage of the distraction, nabs another fry from your plate. There are almost none left now. As Jun reaches out to make another attempt, you slap his hand away with a swift motion.

"But he—" Jun starts to protest.

"Boyfriend privileges," Mingyu interjects smoothly, popping the last two fries into his mouth with a triumphant grin.

You hear a collective groan from the others at the table, but you just chuckle at Mingyu’s proud expression. "Mhm, boyfriend privileges," you repeat softly, unable to suppress a smile.

You lift a hand to gently brush the hair out of Mingyu's face, and he looks at you with a loving smile that makes your heart flutter. The warm feeling in your stomach is more than just the satisfaction from the delicious food you've eaten.

"Can I finish telling my story now?" Chan interrupts, a hint of exasperation in his voice.

You pull your gaze away from Mingyu and refocus on Chan, giving him your full attention once again. "Go on," you say, eager to hear the rest of his tale.

ଘ(੭◌ˊᵕˋ)੭* ੈ♡‧₊˚ 4. Seeing you first thing in the morning

The feeling of someone's soft breaths feathering against your face makes you scrunch your nose in sleepy annoyance. Mingyu's warm hands travel to your waist with the familiarity of someone who’s done it a million times before. And he has. His touch is intimate and assured, sliding over your skin with practiced ease. He knows you're awake now, evident by the low hum you let out, so he presses a few tender kisses on the bare skin of your clavicle, each one like a gentle spark of warmth.

"G'morning," you mutter, your voice still heavy with sleep, the words blending into a sigh.

"Good morning," he whispers softly, his breath tickling your skin.

You recognize his morning voice—his "I just woke up" voice—so you can tell he’s been up for a while. His voice sounds clearer, more alert, like he’s had time to turn around and take a sip of the water he always leaves on his bedside table.

"Have you been awake for long?" you ask, your words barely above a whisper as his lips continue their gentle exploration, each kiss a tender reminder of his affection.

"Since eight-thirty," he answers between kisses, each one a delicate attempt to keep you as close as possible.

You glance at the clock, seeing that it's almost nine already. "Babe, you've been awake for half an hour... why didn’t you wake me up?"

Mingyu pauses his kisses to look up at you, his expression soft and affectionate, his eyebrows slightly furrowed in confusion. Turning his head slightly, he looks over at the clock and hums thoughtfully.

"I was busy," he says with a playful glint in his eyes. He nestles his head back in the crook of your neck, his warmth enveloping you, but doesn’t resume his kisses, much to your dismay.

"Busy doing what?" you murmur, curiosity piqued, your fingers tracing idle patterns on his back.

"Looking at you," he admits with a giggle, lifting his head to meet your eyes. His gaze is filled with affection, his eyes sparkling with sincerity, and he's trying his best to hold back a big grin. "It's my boyfriend privilege. Only I get to see you like this."

"It's a privilege to see my bed head?" You snort, but Mingyu stays serious, his eyes unwavering, his hand gently stroking your cheek.

"Everyday," he replies softly, his voice a tender caress.

You feel a rush of warmth at his words, and you can't help but smile. You reach up to run your fingers through his hair, pulling him closer for a soft, lingering kiss. His lips are warm and inviting, the kiss deepening with the love and tenderness that has grown between you over the months. The world outside fades away, leaving just the two of you in this quiet, intimate moment.

When you finally pull back, Mingyu's eyes are half-lidded, his expression content and serene. He gently tucks a strand of hair behind your ear, his fingers lingering on your cheek, his touch light and loving. "I love these quiet mornings with you," he murmurs, his voice a soothing balm to your soul.

"Me too," you whisper back, your heart swelling with affection, your eyes locked with his.

You snuggle closer, your bodies fitting together perfectly. The world outside can wait a little longer as you bask in the warmth of each other's presence, the quiet intimacy of the morning making everything else fade away. Mingyu's hands continue their gentle caresses, his fingers tracing soft lines over your skin. You feel utterly cherished, each touch and kiss a testament to the love you share. The gentle rise and fall of his chest beneath your hand, the steady rhythm of his heartbeat, and the warmth of his body against yours create a cocoon of contentment that you never want to leave.

ଘ(੭◌ˊᵕˋ)੭* ੈ♡‧₊˚ 5. Showing you off

"Gyu!" you shout from the bathroom, "What time is it?"

The sound of his long steps come closer and closer until the bathroom door pushes open. Mingyu's head peeks through the gap in the door, and smiles as soon as he sees you. You're wearing the new dress he bought you, the cute sundress that couldn't help himself from buying when he saw you looking at it.

"You're pretty," he murmurs and slinks into the bathroom.

He wraps his arms around you, your back relaxing into his chest. "Mingyu," you repeat.

"What?" He pulls his eyes away from the dress to meet your eyes.

"What time is it?" you ask again with a teasing smile.

"Oh, it's around three-thirty." His hands find your waist. "We should leave in half an hour."

You nod and start packing up your make up. "Good, I think I'm done anyway... do you think I look okay?"

Mingyu lets go of you, spinning you around to face him. You can only grin while he studies you carefully with his lips pursed and his eyebrows furrowed in focus. After a few seconds, he nods—satisfied with what he's seen.

"Perfect." He puts his hand right below your jaw, careful not to disturb the make up on your face. "You look perfect, baby."

His smile remains radiant as you arrive at his family's get-together, a constant beam of joy that lights up the entire evening. Mingyu keeps you close, his arm possessively yet gently wrapped around you, presenting you to the members of his family you haven't yet met. Every introduction is accompanied by a glowing remark about you, his voice brimming with pride. You feel like a movie star at a film premiere—the constant pampering, the way his eyes sparkle every time he looks at you, and the sneaky photos he snaps when he thinks you're not looking.

Mingyu can't seem to stop showering you with compliments. "This is my partner," he says, beaming, as he introduces you to yet another relative. "They're incredible, you know. Smart, kind, and absolutely stunning." He turns his head to you, trying to contain his big smile by biting down on his bottom lip.

You blush, murmuring polite responses, but his praise never ceases. It's in the way he looks at you, eyes full of adoration, and the way he never lets go of your hand, his thumb occasionally brushing against your skin in a soothing gesture.

Throughout the evening, Mingyu is a constant presence by your side, his touch grounding you amidst the whirlwind of social interactions. His family is warm and welcoming, their smiles genuine as they embrace you into their fold. The air is filled with laughter and conversation, the smell of delicious food wafting through the house, creating an atmosphere of warmth and togetherness.

Mingyu’s playful nature shines through as he snaps candid photos of you, his grin widening each time you catch him in the act. "You’re just too beautiful not to capture," he explains with a cheeky smile, earning a soft laugh from you.

As the night progresses, you find yourself growing more and more flustered under the weight of his unending compliments. Yet, there's a thrill in it—a heady mixture of embarrassment and joy at being the center of his universe. His family notices, and they tease him gently about his lovesick behavior, but it only makes him hold you closer, whispering sweet nothings in your ear that make your heart flutter.

By the time the evening winds down, you’re overwhelmed with affection, feeling cherished and adored in a way that leaves you breathless. The warmth of Mingyu’s family, combined with his constant praise and tender glances, has wrapped you in a cocoon of love and contentment. As you prepare to leave, Mingyu wraps his arm around your shoulders, pulling you close for a tender kiss on your temple, his lips lingering just enough to send a shiver down your spine.

"Thank you for coming with me tonight," he murmurs, his voice soft and filled with genuine gratitude. "You made everything perfect."

You smile, leaning into his embrace, feeling the steady beat of his heart against your own. "Thank you for taking me along... I don't think I've seen you like this before," you admit, your voice a gentle whisper in the quiet of the night.

"What do you mean?" He cocks his head, his eyes curious and endearing, making you laugh softly at his obliviousness.

"You were trying to show me off all night," you explain, a playful note in your voice. Seeing his slightly worried expression, you quickly add, "It was sweet, Gyu. Really, it was."

Relief floods his features, and he leans in to press a kiss on your lips. The kiss is soft, lingering a second longer than it should, filling you with a warmth that spreads through your entire body. "It's my boyfriend privilege to get to show you off," he says, his eyes sparkling with mischief and affection.

You groan playfully, rolling your eyes at his words as he starts giggling, the sound infectious and heartwarming. Taking your hand in his, he leads you to the cab he's ordered to take you home. The night air is cool and refreshing, a gentle breeze rustling through the trees, but Mingyu's hand in yours keeps you warm.

As you approach the cab, he pauses for a moment, turning to look at you with a tenderness that makes your heart swell. "You know," he says softly, brushing a stray hair from your face, "You should wear that dress more often."

"Oh yeah?"

Your breath catches in your throat at his words as he pulls you into a tight embrace. "Yeah," he whispers.

With one last lingering kiss, you both get into the cab, his arm never leaving your shoulders. As the city lights blur past the window, you lean into Mingyu, feeling his warmth envelop you.

ଘ(੭◌ˊᵕˋ)੭* ੈ♡‧₊˚ 6. A shoulder to cry on

When you enter the apartment, none of the lights are turned on. You worked late that day, but not so late that Mingyu would've gone to sleep already. The apartment is eerily quiet, devoid of the usual warmth and liveliness. Toeing off your shoes and putting away your outerwear in their rightful places, you start to wonder if he's not home. He usually texts you when he gets home, but you haven't received any messages.

Concern etches between your brows as you walk further into the apartment. The kitchen is spotless, with no pots or pans on the stove—not that you always expect Mingyu to cook, but he had told you earlier today that he'd have something ready for you when you got home. You open the fridge, finding it just as you left it this morning. The absence of any signs of recent activity deepens your worry.

As you pass the bathroom by the guest room, you flick on the lights, casting a warm glow to see the path to your shared bedroom. By the ajar door, you notice a piece of fabric slumped together on the floor. Picking it up, you realize it's Mingyu's jacket. You drape it over your arm and continue to the bedroom, your heart pounding with unease.

He's not there, but you see that the light in your bathroom is on, a soft glow seeping through the cracks in the door. You place his jacket on the edge of the bed before approaching the bathroom door, only to find it locked.

You knock softly, pressing your ear against the door. "Mingyu, I'm home... are you okay?"

"I'm okay, baby," he replies, but his voice is thick with tears. "Sorry, I didn't have time to make you dinner... I think there's some leftovers from yesterday."

"Please, open the door." Ignoring his suggestion about dinner, you grab the door handle. "I can hear that you're not okay."

You hear him sigh, and his footsteps approach the door. Stepping back, you wait as the door swings open. The first thing you see is his bloodshot eyes and red nose. He sniffles and looks away, trying to hide his vulnerability.

"I'm..." He hesitates, torn between lying and being honest.

Before he can decide, you engulf him in a hug, wrapping your arms tightly around his torso. "Oh, baby..."

The dam breaks as a sob bubbles up Mingyu's throat, a raw, heart-wrenching sound that shatters the silence. He buries his face into the crook of your neck, his hot tears streaming down his cheeks and soaking into your shirt. You can feel the wet warmth of his tears spreading, a tangible sign of his anguish.

You rub his back soothingly, your hand moving in slow, comforting circles. Each sob wracks his body, causing his shoulders to tremble violently. His fingers clutch at your shirt, holding on as if he might drown without this anchor.

Minutes pass, each one heavy with his sorrow, until finally, his sobs begin to subside. His shoulders stop shaking, and his breathing slowly evens out, though occasional hiccups still break through. Only then do you loosen your embrace, though you don't fully let go. Instead, you gently take his face in your hands, your thumbs brushing away the tears that cling to his skin. His eyes are red and swollen, filled with a mixture of lingering sadness and gratitude.

"Do you want to talk about it?" you ask softly.

"...can I tell you later? I'll start crying again if I tell you now." He lets out a choked laugh, trying to relieve the tension, but your frown remains.

"Okay. Let's get you cleaned up."

You gently wipe away Mingyu’s tears, your thumb brushing over his cheeks with tender care. His skin is warm and damp, his eyes still glistening with the remnants of his sorrow. Your touch is gentle and reassuring as you guide him to change into more comfortable clothes. You help him out of his work attire, unbuttoning his shirt with careful fingers, and replacing it with a soft, worn-in t-shirt that brings him comfort. Each movement is deliberate, designed to soothe and calm him. You then help him into a pair of loose, cozy sweatpants, ensuring he's enveloped in softness and warmth.

Once he’s settled, you guide him to the couch in the living room, your arm around his waist, supporting his slow and heavy movements. The weight of his exhaustion is impossible to miss, his shoulders slumped and his steps dragging. He collapses onto the couch with a weary sigh, sinking into the cushions as if they might absorb some of his burden.

You start to leave for the kitchen, intending to get him something to eat or drink, but he grabs your hand. His grip is firm yet desperate, his fingers curling around yours with a silent plea for you to stay.

You turn back to him, your heart aching at the sight of his vulnerable expression. Mingyu looks up at you, his eyes wide and filled with a mixture of fear and need. "Don't leave," he whispers.

"I'm going to heat up some leftovers," you explain. "You haven't eaten yet, have you?"

Mingyu shakes his head no and lets go of your hand. You feel his eyes on you as you walk around the kitchen, quickly putting something together. It's not fancy, and it's nothing like what he usually makes you, but it's enough for the two of you right now.

When you return to his side, you give him his bowl before settling down next to him. You eat in silence, letting Mingyu sit as close to you as he pleases. When you're done, you take the dishes to the kitchen. Although you want him to sit still and rest, he follows you—his arms wrapped around your waist the entire time.

It's hard to move around, but you don't complain. Soon enough, the dishes are done and you're back on the couch. Mingyu has his arms wrapped tightly around you as you lay on top of him.

"Thank you," he mutters.

"You don't have to thank me." You lean up to look him in the eye. "Me taking care of you is your boyfriend privilege."

He smiles and presses a chaste kiss on your lips before closing his eyes. The two of you end up falling asleep on the couch on accident. But your stiff body is worth it when you get to see Mingyu smiling at you the next morning.

ଘ(੭◌ˊᵕˋ)੭* ੈ♡‧₊˚ 7. A shoulder to nap on

On the flight back home from a much-needed vacation, Mingyu booked the two of you first-class seats. It was partly because he loves spoiling you, but also so you could sleep comfortably on the way home. The plush seats and extra legroom were a perfect idea, promising a restful journey, but right now, that comfort feels like a far-off dream.

The flight was delayed by a few hours, leaving you and Mingyu stuck at the gate. The airport buzzes with the quiet hum of late-night travelers, the occasional announcement crackling over the PA system. The two of you sit in the lounge, surrounded by weary passengers slumped in their chairs, eyes glazed with fatigue. The smell of coffee and cleaning agents lingers in the air, mingling with the soft rustle of newspapers and the muted clatter of luggage wheels.

Mingyu tries to make the best of the situation, wrapping an arm around your shoulders and pulling you close. His warmth seeps into you, a soothing balm against the weariness. "Just a little longer," he whispers, his breath warm against your ear, sending a shiver down your spine. Despite the delay, his presence is a comforting anchor in the sea of exhaustion, his voice a soft murmur that calms your racing thoughts.

You glance at the clock, the minutes ticking by slowly. The soft lighting of the lounge casts a warm glow, but it does little to chase away the tiredness settling into your bones. Mingyu's fingers trace soothing patterns on your arm, his touch gentle and reassuring, each stroke a silent promise of love and comfort.

"I can't wait to be home in my bed," you murmur, your voice barely above a whisper, heavy with exhaustion.

Mingyu leans his head on your shoulder, his soft hair brushing against your cheek as he closes his eyes with a contented sigh. The weight and warmth of his head against your shoulder provide an unexpected comfort, grounding you in the moment. "This is enough for me," he says softly, his breath warm and reassuring against your skin.

"My shoulder?" you ask, a teasing lilt in your voice, feeling the vibration of his chuckle through the closeness.

"Yes," he replies, his tone earnest and affectionate. His closeness feels intimate and safe, a bubble of tranquility amidst the chaos of the airport.

"And why should I let you have my shoulder?" you tease, a smile tugging at your lips as you relish the closeness.

"Boyfriend privileges," he replies matter-of-factly, his lips brushing against your neck as he speaks. The slight pressure of his lips against your skin sends a wave of warmth through you.

You sigh, a mixture of amusement and tenderness filling your heart. The playful banter and the sincere love in his voice make your heart swell. You tilt your head to rest against his, feeling the gentle rise and fall of his breathing. The world around you fades into a comforting blur, the distant chatter of the airport and the mechanical hum of the environment becoming mere background noise.

For a moment, it's just the two of you, wrapped in each other's warmth and love. His presence is a cocoon of safety and affection, and you close your eyes, allowing yourself to relax fully in his embrace. The gentle rhythm of his breathing, the steady beat of his heart, and the soft, warm pressure of his head against yours create a symphony of comfort that lulls you into a peaceful state.

Your peace is soon interrupted, however. Finally, the boarding announcement crackles through the speakers, breaking the heavy silence of anticipation and sparking a collective sigh of relief that ripples through the gate area. The weariness of the long wait begins to lift as passengers gather their belongings. Mingyu helps you gather your things, his hand never leaving yours as you make your way to the boarding line. His touch is a reassuring anchor, grounding you amidst the bustling crowd.

"Almost there," Mingyu whispers, giving your hand a gentle squeeze.

"Thank goodness," you reply, offering him a tired smile.

The atmosphere shifts as you step onto the jet bridge, a mix of excitement and fatigue hanging in the air. The cool, conditioned air of the plane greets you as you board, offering a welcome contrast to the stuffy terminal. The flight attendants greet you with warm smiles, guiding you toward the plush sanctuary of first class.

Settling into your spacious seats, the world outside begins to fade away. The soft cushions envelop you in comfort, and the generous legroom allows you to stretch out and relax. Mingyu stows your carry-ons in the overhead compartment with ease, his movements fluid and practiced.

As he sits down beside you, the overhead lights cast a gentle glow. "This is so much better," you murmur.

Mingyu smiles, reaching over to adjust your blanket, tucking it around you with a tenderness that melts your heart. "I told you it would be worth the wait," he says softly, his eyes filled with affection.

You can't help but smile at the thought of curling up next to him, the hum of the plane's engines a soothing backdrop. "You always know how to spoil me," you whisper, leaning into his touch.

"It's my favorite thing to do," he replies, brushing a strand of hair from your face. "Besides, you deserve it."

As the plane takes off, you lean into him, feeling the steady rise and fall of his chest. The world outside the window shrinks to a distant blur, and you close your eyes, surrendering to the warmth of his embrace.

"Thank you, Gyu," you murmur, your voice heavy with exhaustion.

"For what?" he asks, his lips brushing against your forehead.

"For everything. For this. For you," you whisper, your words trailing off as sleep begins to claim you.

"Always," he replies softly, his fingers tracing gentle patterns on your arm. "Sleep well, my love."

Wrapped in the comfort of his love and care, you drift off, the promise of restful sleep finally within reach. The gentle touch of his fingers lulls you into a peaceful slumber

ଘ(੭◌ˊᵕˋ)੭* ੈ♡‧₊˚ 8. Lunch boxes

When someone called out for lunchtime, the members collectively let out a big sigh of relief. With tired limbs, they make their way to the cafeteria. While everyone else lines up to buy something, Mingyu heads straight to the fridge and retrieves a carefully prepared meal. He sits down at a table, placing the metal box with a wooden lid in front of him. A pink, stretchy band adorned with tiny red strawberries holds the spoon in place. His face lights up with a smile as he spots the small note on the lid.

Hope practice is going well! I know you're working hard, so please enjoy your lunch and eat well! Can't wait for you to come home♡(>ᴗ•)

Mingyu carefully folds the pink post-it and tucks it into his phone case, a cherished reminder of your thoughtfulness. By then, people have started sitting down beside him, their eyes subtly glancing at the box in front of him. Nobody says anything—they already know what it is—until he opens it.

Inside the box is a beautifully arranged Korean lunchbox. The main compartment holds perfectly steamed white rice, topped with a sprinkling of black sesame seeds. Nestled beside it is a portion of crispy fried chicken, golden brown and glistening with a light coating of sweet and spicy sauce. The other sections are filled with a variety of colorful banchan: neatly sliced kimchi, lightly seasoned spinach, sweet and tangy pickled radish, and tender strips of stir-fried beef bulgogi. There’s even a small section of rolled omelette, its yellow hue bright and inviting.

The delicious aroma wafts up, drawing envious glances from his fellow members. The savory scent of fried chicken and the tangy hint of kimchi fill the air, making everyone's mouths water.

"Did Y/N make you another lunchbox?" Seokmin asks, his eyes wide with curiosity.

"Yeah, they were working from home yesterday, so they had some extra time on their hands," Mingyu replies, a small smile playing on his lips as he inspects the beautifully arranged food.

"It's not fair that only you get homemade lunches from Y/N!" Seungkwan whines, his tone a mix of genuine envy and playful teasing.

Mingyu responds by sticking his tongue out at Seungkwan, making the younger man groan in exasperation. "Boyfriend privileges," Mingyu states proudly, his grin widening.

As he digs in, Mingyu lets out a contented sigh, savoring the flavors and the love that went into preparing his meal. The meat is perfectly seasoned, the rice fluffy, and the banchan vibrant and flavorful. Each bite is a reminder of your care and effort, making the meal taste even better. The members watch with a mix of admiration and envy as Mingyu enjoys his lunch.

ଘ(੭◌ˊᵕˋ)੭* ੈ♡‧₊˚ 9. Bath buddy

As you walk the last bit to the door of your apartment building, you notice a figure in the distance. A tall man, vaguely boyfriend-shaped, waving both of his arms over his head with enthusiasm. Your heart skips a beat, and your smile matches Mingyu's as you break into a run, closing the gap between you. He’s sweaty from the gym, his skin glistening in the fading light, but you don’t mind. You launch yourself into his embrace, pressing yourself as close as possible, feeling the familiar warmth and comfort of his body.

"Are you trying to squeeze me to death?" he asks jokingly, his voice vibrating against your ear.

You loosen your grip slightly, looking up at him with a soft smile. "You have no idea how much I've missed you today."

Instead of teasing you, Mingyu gently pats your head, his fingers threading through your hair with a comforting touch. He sees the weariness in your eyes and the way your hair seems to stick out in all the wrong places, evidence of a long, hard day. "Bad day, hun?" he asks, his voice filled with concern.

The moment he speaks, you feel your guard drop completely. Your lips naturally fall into a pout, and your hands grip the material of his shirt a little tighter. You nod, unable to find the words to describe the exhaustion you feel. Mingyu coos at you softly, pressing a tender kiss to your cheek, his lips lingering for a moment, offering silent comfort. He then guides you to the door, his hand resting on the small of your back, a steadying presence.

"Do you want to take a bath with me?" he asks as he opens the door for you, his voice gentle and soothing.

"Okay," you murmur.

Once inside, the apartment feels like a sanctuary, the chaos of the outside world fading away as the door clicks shut behind you. The familiar scent of home, mingled with Mingyu's comforting presence, immediately begins to soothe your frazzled nerves. He leads you to the bathroom, his touch a constant, reassuring anchor as he guides you down the softly lit hallway. The gentle hum of the apartment envelops you, creating a cocoon of tranquility.

In the bathroom, Mingyu starts running the bath, the sound of water filling the room like a calming symphony. You watch as he carefully adds your favorite bath salts, the granules dissolving into the warm water and releasing a soothing aroma. The scent of lavender and chamomile fills the air, creating a spa-like atmosphere that begins to unwind the knots of tension coiled within you.

Mingyu helps you undress with tender, loving movements, his touch feather-light yet filled with purpose. His fingers trace the contours of your body with a delicate touch, each gesture a silent reassurance of his love and care. The way his hands glide over your skin, unhurried and gentle, sends a wave of warmth through you, dispelling the day’s weariness.

He sheds his own clothes with practiced ease, the fabric slipping off his toned frame effortlessly. The sight of his familiar form, strong and comforting, brings a sense of security and warmth. His skin, slightly glistening from the exertion of the day, catches the soft light, highlighting the lines of his muscles and the contours of his body. There's a serene beauty in the way he moves, each action unhurried and filled with quiet confidence.

Stepping into the bath first, Mingyu eases himself into the steaming water with a sigh of contentment, the sound mingling with the gentle lapping of the water. He settles into the tub, the water enveloping him like a warm embrace. His eyes, inviting and filled with affection, lock onto yours as he extends his hand towards you. The look in his eyes speaks volumes, a silent invitation wrapped in love and intimacy.

You take his hand, feeling the warmth and strength in his grip as he helps you into the tub. The water envelops you in a gentle embrace, its warmth soothing your tired muscles. You settle between his legs, leaning back against his chest, the steady rhythm of his heartbeat a comforting lullaby against your back.

As you relax into his embrace, Mingyu's arms wrap around you, holding you close. His hands begin to gently massage your shoulders, his fingers working out the knots of tension with skillful precision. The sensation is both relaxing and intimate, his touch a balm to your weary soul. You close your eyes, surrendering to the moment, feeling the stress of the day melt away under his tender ministrations.

The soft glow of the bathroom light casts a golden hue over everything, enhancing the sense of intimacy and warmth. Shadows dance along the walls, creating a serene and almost magical ambiance. The only sounds are the gentle sloshing of water and the occasional sigh of contentment from both of you.

"I love you," you whisper, your voice soft and content.

"I love you too," he replies, his lips brushing against your ear.

You stay like that for a while, the water lapping gently around you, the only sounds the occasional drip from the faucet and the steady rhythm of Mingyu's breathing. It’s a perfect moment of peace and connection, wrapped in the comfort and love that only he can provide.

After a few minutes, Mingyu shifts slightly behind you, his movements gentle yet purposeful. "Can you wash my hair?" he asks softly, his voice laced with a boyish charm that makes your heart flutter.

You smile, turning slightly to look at him, your eyes meeting his. "Of course," you reply, your voice warm and affectionate.

He hands you the shampoo, and you pour a generous amount into your palm. Mingyu dips his head back into the water, wetting his hair thoroughly before leaning forward to give you better access. The rich, lathering scent of his shampoo fills the air, mingling with the soothing aromas of the bath salts, creating a calming symphony of fragrances.

Your fingers work through his hair, massaging his scalp with gentle, circular motions. The silky strands slip through your fingers, and you take your time, ensuring each section of his hair is coated with the fragrant lather. Mingyu lets out a contented sigh, his eyes closing as he leans into your touch, his body visibly relaxing under your ministrations.

"This feels amazing," he murmurs, his voice a low, relaxed hum that sends shivers down your spine.

You smile, continuing your careful work. "You deserve it," you say softly. "It's your boyfriend privilege, isn't it?"

Mingyu chuckles, the sound a soft, comforting vibration against your chest. Before he can respond, you pick up the shower head, adjusting the temperature before gently rinsing out the shampoo. Tilting his head back with a gentle hand, you let the warm water cascade through his hair, washing away the suds and leaving his hair clean and soft.

He leans back against you once more, his hair damp and silky against your skin. His eyes are half-lidded with contentment, a serene smile playing on his lips. "Thank you," he whispers, his voice filled with gratitude and affection.

"Anytime," you reply, wrapping your arms around him and holding him close. The warmth of the water and the intimacy of the moment create a cocoon around you, shutting out the rest of the world. You can feel his heartbeat against your back, a steady, reassuring rhythm that syncs with your own. Mingyu's hands rest gently on your arms, his fingers tracing idle patterns on your skin as you both bask in the tranquility of the bath.

The two of you stay like that, cocooned in warmth, the soft glow of the bathroom light casting a golden hue over everything. The sounds of the water and your synchronized breathing create a peaceful ambiance.

ଘ(੭◌ˊᵕˋ)੭* ੈ♡‧₊˚ 10. Tie-fixer

You were already in your pajamas, nestled comfortably in bed with your book, when Mingyu walked in, still dressed in his suit but without his tie. The crisp white shirt accentuated his broad shoulders, and the slight dishevelment of his attire made him look irresistibly charming. His hair was slightly tousled, a few strands falling over his forehead, adding to his effortlessly handsome appearance. He didn't have to say anything; the moment your eyes met his, you were already putting your book to the side and swinging your legs out of bed, the anticipation of helping him a welcome routine.

"Where's your tie?" you ask, a hint of amusement in your voice, tilting your head slightly.

Mingyu pulls the piece of fabric from his pocket and hands it to you, a weary yet appreciative smile playing on his lips. The tie is cool and smooth in your hands, its silk gliding between your fingers. Rising to your feet, you step close to him, your fingers deftly slipping the tie around his neck. The familiar action feels intimate, almost like a ritual between the two of you, a small moment of connection in your busy lives.

As you slowly begin to tie it, your fingers working methodically, you glance up at him. "How long is the event?" you ask, your voice soft and caring, eyes meeting his with genuine concern.

"I probably won't be home until after two," he says with a sigh, his shoulders slumping slightly as the weight of his long night ahead settles in. The lines of fatigue on his face tug at your heart.

"It's okay. I want you to have fun," you murmur, focusing on the tie but feeling the sincerity of your words. "I'll be busy with dinner and my book anyway."

Mingyu watches you, his eyes softening as he takes in your familiar, comforting presence. "I wish you could come with me," he says quietly, his hands gently resting on your hips as you finish tying the knot. His touch is warm and grounding, a silent promise of his affection.

You tighten the tie and smooth it down, patting his chest gently. "You know I'd love to, but someone's got to hold down the fort here," you reply jokingly, your smile warm and reassuring.

He chuckles, the sound deep and rich, resonating in the quiet of the room. He leans down to press a soft kiss to your forehead, his lips lingering against your skin. "What would I do without you?" he murmurs, his voice filled with a mix of gratitude and love.

You smile, wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling him into a warm embrace. "Let's not find out," you whisper, your cheek pressed against his, feeling the steady beat of his heart against yours.

Mingyu hugs you tightly, savoring the closeness, the scent of his cologne mingling with the comforting smell of home. When he finally pulls back, he looks down at you with a mix of love and reluctance. "I really should go," he says, though he doesn't make a move to leave just yet.

"I know," you reply, your fingers brushing a stray lock of hair from his forehead, tucking it back into place. "You'll be amazing, as always."

"Mm, especially with such a well-tied tie," he smiles playfully at you, his eyes twinkling with affection. "I'm so lucky for my boyfriend privilege."

You chuckle softly, resting your hands on his chest. "Yes, you're very privileged," you tease. "Just remember that when you're out there charming everyone."

Mingyu grins, leaning down to press another kiss to your forehead. "How could I forget? My number one fan is waiting for me at home."

You roll your eyes, but your smile is fond. "Just don't let it go to your head."

He laughs, the sound warm and rich. "No promises... I'll miss you," he says, his voice softening as he cups your face in his hands.

"I'll miss you too," you reply, covering his hands with yours.

He gives you one last lingering kiss, his lips warm and tender against yours, a promise of his return. "I'll try to be back as soon as I can," he promises, his voice filled with genuine affection, his hand squeezing yours gently.

"I'll be waiting," you say softly, watching as he finally turns to leave, the door clicking shut behind him. The room feels a little emptier without him, but you return to bed, your book waiting patiently. For a moment, you just sit there, feeling the lingering warmth of his presence and the subtle ache of his absence, already looking forward to his return.

ଘ(੭◌ˊᵕˋ)੭* ੈ♡‧₊˚ ... 11?

The winter chill had settled in, but the warmth of Valentine's Day wrapped the city in a blanket of love and excitement. The air was crisp, carrying the faint scent of snow, mingling with the fragrance of roses that seemed to bloom on every corner. Everywhere you looked, couples were bundled up in cozy scarves and gloves, holding hands, sharing tender smiles, and exchanging sweet nothings. The city streets were transformed into a romantic wonderland, with heart-shaped lights casting a soft, warm glow on the cobblestone paths, creating a dreamy ambiance that made everything feel just a little more magical.

Mingyu had planned the entire day with meticulous care, wanting to make every moment special for you. The day began with the gentle sound of his voice waking you, and when you opened your eyes, there he was, holding a tray with breakfast in bed—fluffy pancakes drizzled with syrup, topped with fresh berries, and a steaming cup of your favorite coffee. The sweet aroma filled the room, and as you shared the meal, you couldn't help but smile at how perfectly the day had started.

The afternoon was spent strolling through the city, the two of you arm in arm as you visited all your favorite spots. The streets were alive with the hustle and bustle of the holiday, but for you, time seemed to slow down, every moment stretching into something memorable. You laughed over shared memories, pointing out familiar landmarks and reliving inside jokes that only the two of you understood. The cold air bit at your cheeks, but it was no match for the warmth of Mingyu's hand holding yours, or the way his laughter seemed to melt the chill away.

As the sun dipped below the horizon, casting a soft, golden light over the city, Mingyu surprised you with dinner at the restaurant where you’d had your first date. The sight of the familiar entrance made your heart skip a beat, and when you stepped inside, the ambiance was perfect—low lights that cast a gentle glow over the intimate setting, soft music playing in the background, and a table tucked away in a quiet corner just for the two of you. Mingyu looked absolutely perfect, the flickering candlelight highlighting his features, making his eyes sparkle with a warmth that mirrored the love in your heart.

He was wearing the turtleneck you had gotten him last December, the deep burgundy color standing out beautifully under his sleek black coat. The sight of him, so effortlessly handsome, made you fall in love with him all over again.

The dinner was delicious, every bite savored as you reminisced about that first date and how far you'd come since then. But as the evening went on, you noticed a certain tension in Mingyu—a subtle shift in his demeanor. He was attentive as always, but his hand gripped yours just a little tighter, and his eyes, though filled with affection, seemed to hold something more—an emotion he hadn’t yet put into words.

When dessert was finished and the check was paid, Mingyu suggested a walk through the park. The idea seemed simple, but there was something in his tone that made your heart flutter with anticipation. The park was beautifully decorated for the holiday, with twinkling fairy lights wrapped around the trees and heart-shaped lanterns swaying gently from the branches. The path was dusted with a light layer of snow, which crunched softly underfoot as you walked side by side, the sound mingling with the distant laughter of other couples enjoying the night.

The cold nipped at your nose, but Mingyu’s presence kept you warm. He walked close to you, his shoulder brushing against yours with every step, and as you made your way deeper into the park, you couldn’t help but notice how quiet he had become. His hand, warm and reassuring in yours, was steady, but there was a nervous energy beneath the surface, a sense of something important hanging in the air between you.

The two of you walked in comfortable silence, the world around you gradually fading into the background as you simply enjoyed being together. The park was peaceful, the night air crisp and clear, with the soft crunch of snow underfoot being the only sound between you. The distant twinkle of lights reflected off the lake's surface, casting a serene, almost magical glow over the scene. The sky above was an expanse of deep navy, dotted with stars that peeked out from behind the clouds, adding to the romantic atmosphere.

As you approached a secluded bench near the lake, Mingyu began to slow down, his footsteps becoming more deliberate. His breath was visible in the cold air, curling upward in soft, white puffs. The quietude around you seemed to intensify, amplifying the sound of your heartbeat in your ears. Mingyu stopped walking and turned to face you, his eyes reflecting the soft glow of the lights strung up in the trees, making them look like they were sparkling with unshed emotions.

"Are you cold?" he asked, his voice gentle, almost tender, as he pulled you closer. Without waiting for your response, he wrapped his coat around you, his touch protective and warm.

"Not with you here," you replied with a smile, leaning into his embrace, feeling the steady rise and fall of his chest against yours. But as you looked up at him, you noticed something different, a subtle tension in his expression. "... you're unusually quiet tonight. Is everything okay?"

Mingyu smiled, though there was a trace of nervousness in his eyes, a flicker of vulnerability that made your heart skip a beat. "There's something I've been wanting to say all day," he began, his tone serious but laced with affection, each word carefully chosen. "Valentine's Day is all about celebrating love, right?"

You nodded, curiosity piqued, your gaze never leaving his. "Right..."

He took a deep breath, the cold air filling his lungs before he released it slowly, his hands still holding yours, their warmth grounding you both. His expression softened, and the affection in his eyes deepened, becoming almost palpable. "Well, I wanted to celebrate us... You know how I've always said I'm lucky to have boyfriend privileges?" His lips curled into a small, playful smile, the familiar phrase bringing a rush of warmth to your chest. It was an inside joke that had grown between you, a phrase that had come to symbolize the depth of his love.

You laughed lightly, nodding, your heart fluttering. "You've mentioned it a time or two."

"Well," he continued, the playful edge in his voice giving way to something more serious, more profound. His grip on your hands tightened slightly, as if anchoring himself for what he was about to say. "I've been thinking a lot about what that really means. About how much I love you, and how my life has been so much better with you in it. I don't just want boyfriend privileges anymore. I want... something more."

The air around you seemed to still, the world shrinking down to just the two of you. Mingyu's words hung in the air, heavy with meaning, and you found yourself holding your breath, your heart pounding in anticipation.

"Mingyu... what are you saying?" you whispered, your voice trembling slightly as you searched his eyes, hoping for confirmation of what you suspected.

"... I want husband privileges," he said softly, his voice thick with emotion. The words tumbled out like a secret he had been holding close to his heart, and as they settled between you, the weight of them was almost overwhelming.

Your heart skipped a beat as his words sank in, sending a rush of emotion through your entire being. Before you could fully process what was happening, Mingyu reached into his coat pocket and pulled out a small velvet box. The deep burgundy of the box stood out against the black fabric of his coat, catching the faint light from the lanterns around you. Your breath caught in your throat as he dropped to one knee, the world around you dissolving into a blur. The soft glow of the lights reflected in his eyes, making them shine with a love so intense it took your breath away.

"Will you marry me?" he asked, his voice trembling slightly, each word laced with raw emotion. "Will you let me spend the rest of my life loving you, taking care of you, and being your forever? I want to be your husband, not just today, not just tomorrow, but every day for the rest of our lives."

The sincerity in his voice, the way his hands trembled ever so slightly as he held the ring, and the sheer vulnerability in his gaze made tears well up in your eyes. Your hand flew to your mouth in disbelief, your heart pounding in your chest as the magnitude of the moment hit you. The world seemed to stop, the night holding its breath as you looked down at him, his expression filled with hope, love, and adoration.

"Mingyu," you whispered, your voice shaking with emotion, each word carrying the weight of your love for him. "Yes. Of course, I'll marry you!"

The tension in his shoulders melted away as his face broke into the widest smile, relief and joy flooding his features. His eyes sparkled with happiness as he carefully slipped the ring onto your finger, his touch gentle and reverent. The ring was perfect—simple, elegant, and exactly what you would have chosen. It glimmered softly in the light, a tangible symbol of the promise you had just made to each other.

Without hesitation, Mingyu stood up, wrapping you in his arms and lifting you off your feet. He spun you around in a joyful whirl, the cold air forgotten as you both laughed, the sound echoing through the quiet park. The night seemed to come alive with your happiness, the trees around you swaying gently as if to share in your joy.

When he finally set you down, his arms remained around you, pulling you into a kiss. His hands cradled your face, his thumbs gently brushing against your cheeks, his touch warm and steady. The tenderness in his grip made your heart swell, and as he leaned in, you could feel his breath mingling with yours, a soft, shared anticipation hanging in the air. When his lips finally met yours, it was as if time itself slowed. The kiss was soft at first, a delicate, reverent connection that conveyed everything words couldn’t.

But then, it deepened, his lips moving against yours with a slow, purposeful intensity that sent a shiver down your spine. Each movement was deliberate, filled with a passion that burned through you, igniting every nerve. His kiss wasn’t just an expression of love—it was a promise, a vow sealed with every ounce of emotion he had been holding back. You could feel his love in the way his hands held you, not too tight, but firm enough that you knew he never wanted to let go.

As his lips molded perfectly against yours, the rest of the world faded into oblivion. The cold night air, the distant sounds of the city, even the twinkling lights around you—all of it dissolved into the background, leaving only the warmth of his kiss, the rapid beat of your heart, and the overwhelming flood of emotion between you. It was as if the two of you existed in your own universe, a moment suspended in time where nothing else mattered.

"I love you," he whispered against your lips, his voice filled with reverence and devotion, as if the words were sacred.

Tears still glistening in your eyes, you smiled up at him, your heart bursting with happiness. "I love you too, Mingyu. I hope you're ready for all the husband privileges."

He laughed, the sound rich and full of joy, resonating with the happiness that radiated from him. It was a laugh that spoke of a future filled with love, laughter, and countless more moments like this. He pulled you into another embrace, his arms holding you close as if he never wanted to let go. "This is the best Valentine’s Day of my life," he murmured into your hair, his voice thick with emotion.

"It’s just the beginning, baby," you whispered back, your fingers tracing the outline of his jaw as you looked up at him, memorizing every detail of his face, every line that spoke of his love for you.

The two of you stood there in the park, wrapped in each other’s arms as the lights twinkled around you, the cold air nipping at your cheeks but failing to penetrate the warmth that enveloped you both. The world seemed to fade away, leaving just the two of you in a moment that felt like it would last forever.

As you walked back home, hand in hand, the silence between you was filled with contentment and the unspoken promises of what was to come. You couldn’t help but glance down at the ring on your finger. The excitement of what lay ahead filled you with warmth, and as you leaned into Mingyu, you knew that your life together would be filled with endless love, laughter, and, of course, husband privileges.

feedback is always welcomed!

taglist:

@enhacolor, @shuabby1994, @junhui-recs, @dkakapizzaboy, @just-here-to-read-01,

@loviehan, @userjunhuii, @novalpha, @bubblymoon, @aaniag,

@d0nghyuck, @fantasy2wonderland, @seunghancore, @woozixo, @niktwazny303,

@lllucere, @uniq-tastic, @wonwoospartyhat, @stariightjoyy, @hyneyedfiz,

@cali-snow, @crazywittysassy, @yeosayang, @wonuvs, @dokyeomkyeom,

@kyeomiis, @gyuguys, @notevenheretbh1 @iamawkwardandshy, @wonuskie

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ditzydoe444 · 2 days ago

Note

https://www.tumblr.com/ditzydoe444/775245580477890560/i-dont-condone-cheating-but-i-feel-like-perv?source=share

THIS!!! pls make this a fic i literally live for ur writing <33 oh and if its not taking can i be 🪽 anon pls xoxo

MDNI 18+

cheating perv! jason todd x bimbo! neighbour

a/n: added anon!!

perv! jason’s marriage was rough to say the least, his wife was constantly travelling for work making the whole relationship loveless with the lack of effort from the both of them. when they were together, they barely interacted, at most it was a ‘good morning’ or ‘good night’ before they both turned to their sides opposite each other on the bed and slept.

however, the moment you moved in as their neighbour you caught perv! jason’s attention, the way you wore the tiniest shorts, your cheeks hanging out with the tightest tank no bra made him go crazy. the most action he got was from his hand, so it was only reasonable to gawk at a beauty like you.

perv! jason who loved the way you rambled on about random things, your perfectly manicured nails on his arms as you beamed at him like he hung the stars in the sky. you were always so oblivious, acting like he did gods work by fixing cars, your mouth in a small ‘o’ shape when he explained it. “so you must be smart and strong?” you giggled as you gently nudged him, scooting closer as the scent of your sweet perfume filled his nostrils.

perv! jason who would jerk off to the sight of you pathetically humping your pillow, you were always so dumb leaving the curtains open, allowing jason to see everything. he saw the way you whined, tears rolling down your cheeks as you couldn’t come, you never did.

when you asked him to help build your furniture for your house perv! jason said yes of course, why would he deny a beautiful girl like you? jason had no shame touching you shamelessly, and from the way you giggled and blushed neither did you. whenever you hugged him as a ‘thank you’ his large hands gripped your ass, well more accurately your cheeks hanging from the tiny shorts. when the hug ended his lands would rest on your waist, gently rubbing it before going up pushing your tits together.

perv! jason had no shame in fucking you on the same bed he shared with his wife, you deep into the mattress whilst he cock bullied your cunt. “so deep jay,” you moaned as he shoved your head deeper into the pillow. “gonna keep this our little secret? can’t have people finding out a ditzy girl like you is getting fucked by an older married man.”

perv! jason had no control, devouring and bullying your poor cunt every single night. worst thing is that he would go and pick up his wife’s calls with you cuddled up next to him knocked out.

perv! jason sometimes would test the waters, purposely picking up the call when the two of you were fucking, your eyes wide and you shook your head, his large hands covering your glossed lips as sly grin formed on his face. you struggled keeping quiet, occasional ‘m-mmph!’ or ‘n-nngh!’ moans coming out as your supposed water proof mascara ran down your cheeks.

#🪽 anon #jason todd #ch: jason #jason todd x fem!reader #jason todd smut #jason todd x reader #jason todd x you #dc jason todd smut #dc jason todd #jason todd dc

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gf2bellamy · 1 day ago

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hi athena!! i love your writing so so much! could i request smth where reader and derek match on a dating app but when they go on a date, they decide they’re not really compatible and derek sets her up with spencer instead? no worries if you’re not interested tho!

thanks!!! 🩵🩵

mismatch — spencer reid

pairing: spencer reid x fem!reader ( no use of y/n ) content warnings: nothing i think , just awkward spencer a/n: hii anon !! thanks for your request - hope this is what you asked for <33 also i decided to go with glasses spencer ! hope that's okay <3

It had been 30 minutes, and this date was not going the way you’d hoped. You sat across from Derek Morgan, your fingers tapping lightly on the edge of the table as you tried to keep up with his enthusiastic monologue about hockey.

He was charming, sure, and undeniably good-looking, but the conversation felt like it was going in circles. You nodded along, offering the occasional smile or comment.

Derek, being the profiler he was, had obviously picked up on the fact that things weren’t clicking. He paused mid-sentence, his eyes narrowing slightly as he studied you. “You’re not really into hockey, are you?” he asked, his tone more amused than accusatory.

You blinked, caught off guard, and let out a small, awkward laugh. “Uh, no, not really,” you admitted, shrugging slightly. “I mean, it’s not that I dislike it or anything. I just… don’t know much about it.”

Derek leaned back in his chair, a smirk playing on his lips. “Yeah, I kinda figured. You’ve got that look.”

“What look?” you asked, raising an eyebrow.

“The ‘I’m trying to be polite but I’m mentally counting down the minutes until I can leave’ look,” he said, his tone teasing but not unkind.

You winced, feeling a little guilty. “Sorry,” you said, offering him an apologetic smile. “I didn’t mean to be rude. It’s just… this isn’t really my thing.”

Derek chuckled, shaking his head. “No need to apologize. I get it. Dating apps are hit or miss, and honestly, I’m not feeling the vibe either.”

You let out a relieved sigh, grateful for his honesty. “Yeah, it’s… not really working, is it?”

“Nope,” Derek agreed, popping the ‘p’ as he leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table. “But hey, no hard feelings. You seem cool, we…just doesn't seem to be a match.”

You nodded, a small smile tugging at your lips. “Yeah, I think you’re right.”

Returning your smile , he said. “If you ever need a wingman or just someone to grab a drink with, hit me up. I’m always down for making new friends.”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” you said, genuinely meaning it. Derek was easy to talk to, even if the romantic connection wasn’t there.

As you both stood up to leave, Derek glanced at you, a mischievous glint in his eye. “You know, you might actually get along with one of my coworkers,” he said casually. “He’s into all that nerdy stuff you were talking about earlier—books, puzzles, random facts. You two would probably hit it off.”

You raised an eyebrow, intrigued. “Oh yeah? What’s his name?”

“Spencer Reid,” Derek said, his grin widening. “He’s a genius, like, legitimately. But don’t let that intimidate you. He’s a good guy. A little awkward, but in a charming way.”

”You wouldn’t mind if I gave him your number?” Derek asked, his tone casual but his grin still firmly in place.

You hesitated for a moment, then shrugged, a small smile tugging at your lips. “Sure, why not?” you said.

Derek’s description of Spencer had piqued your curiosity. A genius who was into books, puzzles, and random facts? That sounded like someone you could actually hold a conversation with.

Besides, after the awkwardness of the date, you figured you had nothing to lose.

As you both walked out of the restaurant, you turned to him and gave him a quick hug. “Take care, Derek.”

“You too,” he said, returning the hug with a friendly pat on your back. “Good luck with Reid. I have a feeling you two might actually hit it off.”

You chuckled, shaking your head as you pulled away. “We’ll see.”

Two days later, you were curled up on your couch with a book in hand, a cup of tea steaming on the coffee table beside you. The quiet evening was interrupted by the buzz of your phone. You glanced at the screen, noticing a message from an unknown number.

Hi, this is Spencer Reid. Derek gave me your number—I hope that’s alright. He mentioned you might appreciate a conversation that doesn’t revolve around hockey. I was wondering if you’d like to meet for coffee sometime?

You couldn’t help but smile as you read the message.

The next day, you walked toward the café, which was, thankfully, only a short distance from your apartment. The crisp autumn air nipped at your cheeks, and you tugged your jacket a little tighter around yourself as you approached the small, cozy-looking spot. As soon as you got closer, you noticed him immediately.

Spencer Reid was standing outside the café, his tall, lanky frame hard to miss. He had his glasses on, and his hands were tightly gripping the handle of a worn leather satchel bag slung over his shoulder.

He looked… nervous.

His eyes darted around, scanning the area, and he shifted his weight from one foot to the other, clearly unsure of what to do with himself.

You couldn’t help but notice how pretty he was.

“Spencer?” you called out softly, not wanting to startle him.

He turned quickly, his eyes widening behind his glasses as he saw you. “Oh, hi!” he said, his voice a little higher than usual, betraying his nerves. He didn’t extend his hand, which you remembered Derek mentioning—something about germs and unnecessary physical contact.

Instead, he gave you a small, awkward wave. “It’s, uh, nice to meet you. I’m Spencer. Obviously. You already knew that. Sorry.”

You smiled, trying to put him at ease. “Nice to meet you too. And don’t worry, I’m not a handshake person either. Too many germs, right?”

His face lit up, clearly relieved that you understood. “Yes, exactly! Did you know that the average handshake transfers approximately 124 million bacteria? It’s one of the most unhygienic social customs we still practice. I mean, why not just nod or bow? It’s much more—” He stopped himself mid-sentence, his cheeks flushing slightly. “Sorry. I’m rambling. I do that sometimes.”

“It’s okay,” you said, laughing softly. “I don’t mind. It’s kind of refreshing, actually.”

He smiled, a little shyly, and adjusted his glasses. “Well, uh, should we go inside? They have a great oat milk latte here, if you’re into that. Or, you know, regular coffee. Or tea. They have tea too. Lots of options.”

“Oat milk latte sounds perfect,” you said, nodding.

As he held the door open for you, you couldn’t help but notice the way his shoulders relaxed slightly, as if he was starting to feel more comfortable. You followed him inside.The smell of freshly ground coffee beans filled the air, and the soft hum of conversation created a cozy atmosphere.

Spencer led you to a small table near the window. He set his satchel down carefully, then glanced at you.

“So,” he said, sitting down across from you, smiling softly, “Derek mentioned you like books. What kind do you usually read?”

#criminal minds x reader #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfic #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid x you #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds x you #spencer reid #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid fanfic #criminal minds fic

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luvst4rc0r3 · 2 days ago

Text

Loser!Jinx x Reader Headcanons

Jinx wasn’t just a loser—she was the loser. The kind who sat in the back of the class doodling in her notebook instead of taking notes, who always had a random bruise from doing something stupid, and who somehow had a negative GPA but could explain the entire plot of an obscure 90s anime no one had ever heard of.

She wasn’t exactly hated at school, but she was weird, loud, and unpredictable, which made people avoid her. Except for Vi, who was always yelling at her to “Get your shit together, Powder,” and Sevika, who only tolerated her because Vi forced her to.

Then there was you.

The first time Jinx saw you, she short-circuited. She was just trying to make it through another miserable day of Algebra when you walked into the classroom, and suddenly, math didn’t exist anymore. All she could think was:

“Oh no.”

You were effortlessly cool—new to school, good at everything Jinx wasn’t, and way out of her league. But you were nice. Too nice. The kind of nice that made Jinx go home and kick her feet while screaming into her pillow because why would you ever talk to her unless you were planning to ruin her life?

- The first time you talk to her, it’s because you sit next to her in Algebra.

You: “Hey, do you have a pencil?”

Jinx, panicking: “Wh—uh—I—yeah—no—I mean—” (frantically digs through her backpack, pulls out a crayon).

You: “…Thanks?”

Jinx: “Yeah! Totally! I only use crayons, actually. Pencils are a government conspiracy.”

You: “Oh? Tell me more.”

She thinks you’re messing with her. But you don’t laugh. You actually listen. And when she rants about whatever nonsense is currently living rent-free in her head, you just nod along like she’s making sense.

She falls in love immediately.

- Jinx is the type of loser who spends all her time online, plays obscure indie games, and has a concerning amount of conspiracy theories about random things (like why the school vending machine is always out of strawberry soda).

- She is hopelessly, painfully, pathetically in love with you. Like, full-blown kicking her feet and giggling into her pillow kind of crush. She doesn’t even try to be normal about it.

- If you so much as glance in her direction, her brain short-circuits. Immediate blue screen of death. Malfunctioning Jinx noises.

- She swears she’s being subtle, but the entire school knows she’s down horrendously bad for you. Like, it’s embarrassing. Vi has tried to stage an intervention. Sevika has bet money on how long it’ll take before she faints in front of you.

- If you actually talk to her? Oh, she’s done for. Stammering, tripping over her words, probably dropping whatever she’s holding. You could ask her the simplest question, and she’d be like:

You: “Hey, do you have a pencil?”

Jinx, sweating bullets: “Uh—uh—uh—uh—I—pen—yes—no—I mean—I do? Maybe? What’s a pencil?”

- She definitely stalks your social media. She has your entire posting schedule memorized, knows all your interests, and tries to bring them up in conversation to impress you—but it just makes her sound insane.

Jinx: “Soooo… I heard you like frogs.”

You: “What?”

Jinx: “Uh. Frogs. Y’know. Ribbit.”

- If you compliment her, even as a joke, she will take it to her grave. Like, you could say, “Hey, cool jacket,” and she’ll wear that same jacket every day for a month straight.

- One time you called her cute. She has not recovered.

- She tries to act cool around you, but she’s the type of loser who fumbles everything. Drops her phone. Walks into doors. Trips over air. It’s a miracle she hasn’t spontaneously combusted yet.

- If you so much as smile at her, she’s writing about it in her diary like it’s the most life-changing event to ever happen.

“FEBRUARY 8TH, 2025. 3:47 PM. Y/N SMILED AT ME. I CAN DIE HAPPY NOW.”

“February 8th, 2025. 3:47 PM. Y/N TOUCHED MY ARM. I CAN NEVER WASH IT AGAIN.”

- Jinx, in her head, planning out all the ways she could confess to you: Writing you a love letter? Making a mixtape? A grand, romantic gesture?

- Jinx, in reality: “I like your face.”

- If you start liking her back? Oh, she’s doomed. Malfunctioning. Exploding. Game over.

People still don’t understand how you two work, but at this point, it doesn’t even matter. You and Jinx are in your own little world, and honestly? It’s kind of perfect.

- You keep hanging out with her. At first, just in class, but then at lunch, after school, texting late at night. She stops feeling like a loser when she’s with you. She starts hoping.

- The first time you realize you like her back, it’s because of something dumb.

You’re at lunch, sitting with her, Vi, and Sevika. Jinx, being a disaster, spills her drink all over herself. Instead of being embarrassed, she just goes, “Guess I’m drinking it the hard way.”

And something about the way she owns her weirdness makes your heart do a stupid little flip.

- The first time you flirt with her, she malfunctions.

- The first time she realizes you like her back, it breaks her brain.

It happens after school. You’re both walking home together when you grab her hand, lacing your fingers through hers like it’s nothing.

She nearly trips over her own feet. You just laugh and squeeze her hand tighter.

Oh no, she thinks. Oh no, oh no, oh no.

She’s never going to recover from this.

(She doesn’t want to.)

Random Cute Couple Things:

- Jinx is the kind of girlfriend who will 100% steal your clothes.

Not just hoodies—everything. She once showed up wearing your jacket, your socks, and your backpack, and when you pointed it out, she just went, “Yeah, and?”

The worst part? She looks stupidly cute in your clothes, so you can’t even be mad.

(You started “accidentally” leaving extra hoodies at her place just so she’d always have one of yours to wear.)

- She gets insanely clingy when she’s sleepy.

Jinx isn’t really a cuddler during the day—she’s always bouncing off the walls, getting into trouble, dragging you into her weird ideas. But the second she gets tired?

Good luck getting up.

She’ll wrap herself around you like a human koala, mumbling something about how “you’re warm and smell good” and refusing to let go.

(You’ve accepted your fate. You live here now.)

- She makes the dumbest bets just to get kisses.

• “Bet you can’t solve this riddle. If you lose, I get a kiss.

• “If I make this paper ball into the trash can, you have to kiss me.”

• “Okay, rock-paper-scissors, best out of three—winner gets a kiss.”

You caught on pretty quickly and just started kissing her before she could suggest a bet. It completely breaks her brain every time.

(She still tries, though.)

- She doodles all over your stuff.

If you lend Jinx a pen, it’s over—your notebooks, your arms, even your homework will be covered in little scribbles.

Sometimes they’re just random sketches. Other times, you’ll find little hearts with your name inside them.

(She denies drawing them. But the blush on her face says otherwise.)

- She absolutely loves when you play with her hair.

She pretends she doesn’t care at first—shrugs it off, acts like it’s whatever. But the second you start running your fingers through her hair, she literally melts.

(If you braid it, she’ll leave it in all day, even if it looks ridiculous.)

- She’s always touching you.

• Holding your hand? Obviously.

• Leaning against you when you’re sitting together? Yup.

• Linking pinkies just because she can? Of course.

It’s like she needs to be physically connected to you at all times.

(If you ever pull away too soon, she’ll dramatically gasp and go, “What, you don’t love me anymore?!”)

- She makes up the dumbest excuses just to hang out with you.

“Babe, I need your help with something.”

“What is it?”

“I dunno, I just wanted to see you.”

And honestly? You wouldn’t have it any other way.

I love Jinx

I want sleep

#arcane x reader #arcane x y/n #x reader #arcane x you #jinx lol #jinx league of legends #jinx arcane #x you #x y/n #jinx #jinx x reader #jinx fluff #jinx angst #jinx smut #jinx season 2 #jinx supremacy

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greengoblinswifey · 3 days ago

Text

Possession

pairing— fratboy!nicholas chavez x fem!reader

summary— After a week of ignoring Nicholas due to jealousy over his newfound attention on campus, you finally confront him at his frat’s party when another girl flirts with him, leading you step in and assert your claim over him making his dominant side come out to reassert control. Based on this request.

warnings— jealously, possessiveness, choking, praise kink, degradation, fingering, marking/hickey, oral(m), begging, edging, rough unprotected sex, creampie, aftercare, L bombs.

The first time you told Nick his glasses made him look hot, he was apprehensive. That being said, you fucked the confidence into him and made sure he knew exactly how attractive he was with those frames and lenses. Smug thing that he was, he wore them more often after that—especially around you.

What you didn’t expect, though, was for half the girls on campus to suddenly start noticing too.

At first, it was harmless. A passing compliment here, a doe eyed glance there. But then it was giggles from girls in his lectures, flirty comments from sorority girls you barely knew, and one too many whispers about how “Nick Chavez looks so good in those frames.”

And yeah, he was yours, but your brain needed a second (or ten) to reboot before you ended up saying something that would get you labeled as crazy.

It got worse when you were walking across campus with him one afternoon, his hand resting low on your back, when some girl you vaguely recognized from class slowed as she passed.

“I love your glasses, Nicholas,” she said, all sweet and flirty, her eyes lingering just a little too long.

He barely glanced at her, his arm tightening around you. “Thanks,” he said flatly, his attention never leaving you. But it didn’t matter. The damage was done.

Your jaw clenched as you stared straight ahead, anger prickling beneath your skin.

He must have noticed the shift in your mood because his fingers pressed a little firmer into your back. “You good?”

“Fine,” you muttered.

Nick hummed like he didn’t believe you, but he didn’t press it. Instead, he just pulled you in closer, his grip possessive as he continued walking.

You, on the other hand, weren’t fine. At all.

So you avoided him. Not in a dramatic, block his number way—but in a I need to cool off before I lose it way. You skipped out on dinners and lunches, ignored his texts, and kept your distance for a few days until the jealousy simmered down.

Or at least, that was the plan.

Your friends had other ideas. They dragged you to his frat’s party, insisting you “needed a distraction” completely ignoring the fact that the last place you wanted to be was his place, his party, where he was undoubtedly the center of attention.

And sure enough, the second you spotted him across the room, your mood soured all over again.

Nicholas stood by the bar area, laughing at something some random girl was saying, his stupid glasses perched on his stupidly handsome face, and the final straw? Her hand on his arm.

Fuck that.

Before you even realized you were moving, you crossed the room, slapping the girl’s hand away without so much as a second thought.

“Nah,” you said, voice sharp as you inserted yourself between them. “Hands off.”

Nicholas barely had time to react before you turned to him, arms crossing over your chest as you shot him a look.

“What?” he asked, eyes flicking between you and the girl, clearly trying to figure out what just happened.

You rolled your eyes. Big mistake.

His jaw ticked, and the next thing you knew, his hand wrapped around your wrist—not rough, not aggressive, but firm enough to let you know who was calling the shots

“Come here.”

You barely had time to protest before he was pulling you upstairs, weaving through the crowd until you were in his room, the bass from the party thrumming through the walls.

He shut the door behind you, arms crossing as he leveled you with a look. “Alright, what’s going on with you?”

You scoffed, folding your arms right back. “Nothing.”

“Yeah?” He stepped closer, eyes narrowing slightly. “So you just went full mine mode downstairs for nothing?”

Heat rose to your face. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Nick let out a slow breath, like he was trying to be patient. “You’ve been avoiding me all week, and now you’re out here swatting hands and rolling your eyes at me? Just tell me what’s up.”

You huffed, looking anywhere but at him. “It’s dumb.”

“Doesn’t matter.” He took another step forward. “Tell me.”

You swallowed, shifting on your feet before finally mumbling, “I don’t like all the attention you’ve been getting.”

A slow smirk tugged at the corner of his lips. “You jealous?”

Your head snapped up. “No.”

He clicked his tongue, shaking his head. “Lying to me now?”

“M’not lying.”

His eyes darkened just a bit, and before you could react, his fingers tilted your chin up, forcing your gaze to meet his. Not rough, not harsh, just firm.

“Look at me,” he said, voice lower now.

You did.

His thumb brushed over your jaw, and for a moment, all you could focus on was the way his touch sent a shiver down your spine.

“You have nothing to worry about,” he murmured, eyes searching yours. “No one else matters. Got it?”

Your breath hitched. You wanted to stay mad, to hold on to the attitude that had fueled you all week, but it was slipping through your fingers fast.

Especially when his lips ghosted over yours, teasing, waiting for you to close the distance.

And just like that, you forgot why you were mad in the first place.

After he took your breath away in an all consuming kiss, his grip on your chin tightened just slightly, his thumb dragged slowly over your jaw.

“You think ignoring me for days and rolling your eyes at me is cute, huh?” he murmured. “Think you can walk around with all that attitude and not deal with me?”

Your breath hitched, but you refused to back down, tilting your chin up in defiance. “Maybe.”

He huffed a laugh, shaking his head like you were testing every bit of his patience. Then, in one swift motion, his hand slid from your jaw to your throat, firm, thumb pressing lightly against the pulse point beneath your skin.

Your knees nearly buckled.

His eyes darkened, gaze flickering between yours as he took in your reaction. “Yeah?” he asked, voice dangerously low. “Still got something smart to say?”

You swallowed hard, but your throat barely moved under the weight of his palm. His grip wasn’t rough, he didn’t need to be. The sheer authority in his hold, the way he commanded your attention with nothing more than his touch, was enough to leave you breathless.

“Nothing?” he pressed.

Your lips parted, but nothing came out.

Nick smirked. “That’s what I fucking thought.”

His mouth was on yours before you could even process it, slow and consuming, like he was reminding you exactly who he was. His fingers flexed slightly against your throat as his tongue traced your lips, and when you opened for him, he took his time, deepening the kiss until your head was spinning.

You clutched at his shoulders, needing something to hold onto as he took you apart piece by piece.

When he finally pulled back, his lips hovered over yours, his breath warm against your skin. “You done acting up now?”

You didn’t answer, too caught up in the way his fingers were still resting against your throat, his thumb pressing teasing pressure just beneath your jaw.

He hummed, dragging his nose along your cheek before whispering, “You know you’re mine, yeah?”

Your breath came short, chest rising and falling against his.

“And you know I’m yours,” he continued, voice smooth and steady. “Always.”

The words settled deep in your chest, grounding you in a way you didn’t realize you needed. But before you could respond, he was guiding you backward until the backs of your knees hit the bed, and you had no choice but to sit.

He stayed standing, towering over you, his fingers tracing lightly down your throat before trailing along your tits, then lower. His touch was slow, a deliberate reminder that he was the one fully in control now.

“You been walking around with all this attitude for days,” he mused, tilting his head. “Ignoring me, rolling your eyes, swatting hands.” His fingers skimmed over your thigh, just under the hem of your skirt. “For what, baby?”

Your breath caught in your throat.

He clicked his tongue, eyes flickering back to yours. “You already know no one else gets to touch me. You already know no one else matters.”

His fingers slid higher to make your stomach tighten, but not enough to satisfy. His control was infuriating.

“You got all in your head over nothing.” He leaned in, lips grazing your ear. “And now you don’t even remember why you were mad, do you?”

You clenched your jaw, refusing to let him be right, but he saw straight through you.

Nick chuckled, fingers caressing your inner thigh. “That’s what I thought.”

His other hand still rested lightly at your throat, keeping you exactly where he wanted you.

“Keep your eyes on me,” he murmured.

Your breathing was uneven, your body tense with anticipation, but you did as he said, your gaze locked onto his. The intensity in his stare sent a shiver down your spine, his dominance leaving you dizzy.

His fingers dragged the softest touch along your inner thigh, making your breath hitch.

“Tell me what you want,” he murmured.

You swallowed hard, pride keeping your lips pressed together.

He just chuckled. “C'mon, baby. You had plenty to say before. Now’s not the time to get shy.”

Your fingers curled into the fabric of his shirt, grip tightening as his fingers traced circles on your clothed clit—but still, still, he wasn’t giving you enough.

“Nick,” you breathed.

He raised a brow. “That’s not asking, sweetheart.”

You clenched your jaw, the ache inside you growing unbearable.

“Please,” you whispered.

His grip on your throat flexed just slightly. “Louder.”

You bit your lip, eyes flickering away for just a second, but his fingers pressed to bring your gaze snapping back to his.

“Eyes on me,” he warned, voice firm.

Your breath came short, chest rising and falling fast. “Please, Nick,” you said again, this time stronger, your body practically begging for relief.

He smirked, satisfied. “Good girl.”

And then he gave you what you wanted.

Your head tipped back against the mattress, a gasp slipping past your lips as he ripped your underwear and dipped two fingers into your pussy but his grip at your throat guided you back to him. “No,” he murmured. “Keep fucking looking at me, baby. Wanna see that pretty face while I take care of you.”

His fingers thrusted slowly, deeply, curling and finding that sweet spot inside you that made you writhe and moan. His thumb focused on your clit adding even more pleasure that made your breathing quicken. Your fingers dug into his wrist, body tensing, pleasure coiling tighter and tighter until you were right on the edge. But he wasn’t done with you yet.

"You want me to make you cum?” His voice was all control, all power.

Your breath hitched, body trembling. “Yes,” you choked out.

He hummed, dragging his lips over your cheek, his fingers never stopping, only thrusting faster. “Ask me nicely.”

You whimpered, your pride long gone, your only thought was him—his fingers, his mouth, his voice. “Please, Nicholas. Please make me cum,” you pleaded, your voice breaking.

His fingers pressed just right, flexing against the spot he knew all too well, and he murmured against your skin, “That’s my girl.”

Your body gave in, pleasure crashing over you as he fingered you through every second of it keeping you right where he wanted you.

As the high faded, your breath came in ragged gasps, your body melting against his. He finally loosened his grip, letting his fingers trail from your throat to your jaw, his touch now soft, soothing.

“See?” he murmured, brushing his lips over yours. “No reason to be jealous, baby.” His fingers traced up your thigh before pulling away, but his smirk remained. “These fingers?” He lifted them between you, wiggling his fingers just a little. “They're yours. They’ve only ever been inside you.”

You let out a shaky breath, still recovering, but Nick just grinned, pressing a slow, deep kiss to your lips.

“And next time,” he added, “you wanna act up? Just remember who I belong to.”

He didn’t give you a moment to catch your breath. Before you could even blink, he had your white top in his fists, fabric stretching, then—rip.

A gasp slipped from your lips, your naked tits exposed to the cool air for two seconds before his mouth was on you, hot and starved. His lips dragged down, his tongue tracing on your nipples.

Your fingers tangled in his hair, a whimper escaping as he sucked a mark against your tits. Red. He smirked against you. “Needy little whore, aren’t you?”

You squirmed, hands gripping at his shoulders as he trailed even lower, his fingers hooking into your skirt and hiking it up with ease.

“Nick,” you breathed, your whole body thrumming with anticipation.

“What do you want, baby?”

Your face burned, the words getting stuck in your throat, but you were too far gone, too desperate to care. “I- I need your mouth,” you admitted, voice barely above a whisper.

Nick chuckled, his hand squeezing your thigh. “Not tonight, sweetheart,” he murmured, pulling back to meet your eyes. “Not after ignoring me all week.” His grip tightened just slightly, keeping you grounded beneath him. “You wanna act like you don’t need me? Like you can walk around rolling your eyes, pouting, staying away from me?” He tilted his head. “Gotta make it up to me first.”

Your breath hitched. “How?”

He leaned in, lips grazing your ear. “Get on your knees.”

A shiver ran down your spine, heat curling low in your stomach.

His voice dropped even lower, coaxing. “C’mon, baby. Be good for me.”

There wasn’t a single ounce of hesitation in your body. You slid off the bed, sinking down before him, eager, desperate to please.

He smirked, watching you, eyes dark with satisfaction. He cupped your jaw, tilting your chin up so you had to look at him.

“Yeah,” he murmured, dragging his thumb over your bottom lip. “That’s my girl.”

You did exactly what he asked, eager, desperate to please, your hands gripping his thighs as pulled his sweats and boxers down. He was hard leaking from the tip and you immediately you worked him over, taking in every sound he tried to suppress.

You took him deep into your throat, moving your head while you stroked what couldn’t fit. You looked up at him all teary eyed, your mascara ruined.

Nick’s jaw was clenched, his head tipped back against the wall, and even though he was doing his best to hold back, you could feel the way his cock throbbed, how his fingers flexed in your curls, the way his breath came short and sharp.

“Fuck,” he hissed, his grip tightening. “You—” His voice broke, and that alone sent a surge of pride through you.

You knew he was close. You could feel it in the way his cock twitched in your mouth, in the way he fought to keep control, how he tried—tried—not to let go of his control completely.

But then, just as he was about to cum, his hands tightened in your curls and pulled you up.

A breathless gasp left your lips as you stumbled to your feet, but before you could even process it, his hand wrapped around your wrist, and his voice came low and firm.

“Get on the fucking bed.”

Your stomach dropped. You did as you were told, barely able to breathe as you crawled backward onto the mattress, your pulse hammering in your ears.

Nick followed, his presence overwhelming as he caged you in, hands bracketing either side of your hips. His eyes flickered over your face, sharp and knowing, drinking in your confusion, the lingering desperation in your expression.

“B-but,” Your voice was shaky, words laced with uncertainty. “Why didn’t you cum?”

He cut you off with a smirk, his hand dragging slowly up your thigh. “You don’t deserve my cum.”

Your breath hitched.

He tilted his head, his fingers tracing mindless patterns against your bare skin. His grip then tightened, making you gasp. “You really think you should rewarded?”

His other hand came up, fingers gripping your chin, forcing your gaze to stay on his.

“You wanna act like a brat?” His lips brushed against yours. “Then you’ll be treated like one.”

You swallowed hard, your breath unsteady, pussy aching for more—but he just smirked, brushing a soft kiss to your mouth before pulling away, leaving you needy and wanting.

“Next time,” he murmured, “maybe you’ll think twice before ignoring me.”

He didn’t give you a second to whine. His hands were firm as he grabbed your thighs, pressing them back, spreading you out beneath him with ease. Your breath caught in your throat, the position leaving you feeling exposed, but there wasn’t a single part of you that wanted to stop him.

“Look at you,” he murmured, his grip tightening to make you squirm. “All needy and wet now, huh?” Acted like you didn’t want me all week, and now look where you are.”

Heat flushed through your body, embarrassment mixing with the undeniable ache he’d built inside you. You needed him so bad. This side of him had you desperate.

He chuckled, dragging a slow hand up your thigh. “So much attitude. So much back talk.” His fingers gripped harder, making you gasp. “But now? Now you’re just a sweet little whore, waiting for me to touch you.”

A whimper slipped from your lips, your hands curling into the sheets, and he smirked. “That’s what I thought.”

He moved slow at first, almost teasing, dragging his cock slowly inside your walls, before his grip tightened, and he set a pace that had your breath stuttering. His hands held your legs back firmly, keeping you in place, his focus locked onto your face, watching every reaction like he was committing it to memory. The way you trembled, the way you bit your lip, the way your fingers fisted the sheets, he took it all in, a satisfied smirk tugging at his lips.

“Where’s all that attitude now, huh?” he murmured,. “Not so tough anymore, are you?”

A moan tore from your lips, your back arching as your pussy fluttered around his thick cock, but Nick just tsked, his hand sliding up your body, fingers wrapping gently but firmly around your throat, tilting your chin up to keep your eyes on him.

“Nuh-uh,” he murmured. “Keep your eyes on me.”

It built fast, the pleasure curling in your stomach, your breaths growing shallow, your pussy clenching around his shaft as you reached the edge. As it gripped him, you could feel the veins on his cock pulsating, teasing you, just begging you to cum. Your fingers dug into his arms, back arching as you felt yourself teeter—

And then he stopped.

A strangled whimper caught in your throat as your eyes snapped open, your head lifting in disbelief.

He just sat back, smug, his breathing even as he watched you, his fingers dragging over your jaw with amusement.

Your chest rose and fell rapidly, your brain struggling to catch up. “Wh—why did you stop?”

He tilted his head, a slow smirk tugging at his lips. “Because you don’t deserve to fucking cum”

Your stomach dropped. Nicholas leaned in, his grip tightening. “You really thought I was gonna let you cum on my dick just like that after the way you acted?” He ran his thumb across your bottom lip, watching you closely. “Nah, sweetheart.”

Your breath hitched, frustration and need clawing at your insides, but he just pressed a soft kiss to your pouty lips before pulling away entirely, leaving you wrecked, wanting, and desperate for more.

“Maybe next time,” he murmured, smirking as he sat back. “If I feel like making you cum.”

Then, he moved you, positioning you on your stomach, his hands firm as he guided you to arch your back. His breath was warm against your ear as he whispered, “You’re mine, and I’m not gonna be gentle.”

Despite his words, there was an undeniable tenderness in the way he held you, in the way he guided you slowly onto his awaiting cock, as if he wanted to remind you that he would never hurt you, no matter how intense things got.

He moved fast, pounding into your pussy with a steady rhythm that had your mind foggy. Each stroke was harsh, his body pressing into yours, pinning you down onto the bed, making your pussy feel every inch of his dick. He was determined, focused on making both of you feel everything.

He moaned softly as he felt your pussy tighten around him, each thrust pushing you closer to the edge. He could feel you getting close, the way your pussy twitched, your body shaking beneath him.

“Beg for it,” he whispered, his voice commanding, but the affection in his tone was still there. “Beg me, and I’ll let you cum.”

You could barely form words, your body craving release and only focused on his cock moving in and out of you from behind but all you could manage was an urgent, breathless plea. “Please, Nick, p-please.”

His grip on your waist tightened, his voice full of authority. “Apologize for the way you acted earlier. Tell me you’re sorry for ignoring me.”

You nodded quickly, your voice shaking as you whispered, “I’m sorry, Nick. I didn’t mean to be like that. Please make me cum.”

At your words, his pace quickened, a groan escaping his lips as he pressed his cock deeper, harder. If it wasn’t for the faint music, the whole frat party would’ve heard and wondered if he was murdering you. You could feel the tension building, everything inside you tightening, and with his final thrust, he made you cum, just as you felt the release you were desperate for.

A week of no contact in every aspect. A week of not having his dick inside you came crashing down and you cried out. Your pussy clamped around him, soaking him with your cream and juices as your entire body convulsed from the pure intensity of it all. Your fists grabbed the sheets, holding on to something—anything, as your release washed over you.

And then, moments later, he followed, his own moan escaping as he spilled inside you, every drop, not a single going to waste and he collapsed beside you, pulling you close into his arms.

“I’m yours, always,” he murmured, brushing a strand of hair from your face as he held you, gently tracing his fingers over your skin.

In that moment, everything was calm, the tension between you two finally dissolving.

He softly kissed your forehead, his breath still a little heavy, but there was a warmth to his touch, a reassurance that made you feel safe and cared for after everything.

“I’m sorry, baby,” he murmured, his voice sincere as he gently stroked your hair. “I didn’t mean to make you feel like you weren’t important or that those compliments mattered. I know I kinda messed up, but I care about you too much to hurt you.”

You melted into his embrace, your own voice shaking as you responded, “I’m sorry too, I shouldn’t have let my jealousy get the best of me. I know you’re mine, but I just—I couldn’t help how I felt.”

He smiled softly, his hand brushing your cheek, his thumb caressing your skin gently. “I understand, baby. I get it now. I should’ve reassured you sooner, I just didn’t want to make things awkward. You’re everything to me.”

You nodded, feeling the weight of his words sink in. You hadn’t realized how much you needed to hear him say it, but now that he had, you could breathe again.

“I love you so much,” he whispered, a little breathless, his forehead resting against yours.

You smiled, feeling that knot in your chest loosen. “I love you too, Nick.”

You kissed again, slow and deep this time, savoring the closeness and the quiet understanding between you. There was just the comfort of knowing you were both in this together, learning and growing with each other.

After everything, the bond you shared only felt stronger, and in that moment, it was all that mattered.

‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵‿

Tags: @blackynsupremacy @hoffmansgirl @emluvsuxo @hopefully-saturn @chavezhoe @jennieonline @girldisrupted @nicholaschavezslut69

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m4rv3l-girl · 2 days ago

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Bucky x reader in a relationship but noone knows👀

After Bucky Caught up with this year's technology thanks to you and Tony, he mastered the selfie and taking random photos of alpine, whether it's with you or him sending you updates throughout the day! After a few months of keeping your relationship hidden, bucky uploads a photo of him getting ready for one of Tony's parties, and in the bed behind him there's a pair of women's legs(reader) and everyone is trying to figure out who it is! And when you&bucky turn up to tonys party fashionably late, they slowly start to figure it out and everyone starts asking questions about you both but bucky just says that he wants to spend the night dancing away with his doll! And spends the night with you in his arms dancing and when he isn't dancing wirh you he always has his eyes on you, admiring you🥹

Based on this photo: https://www.instagram.com/share/p/_qa-csZfu

Evidence

Bucky x Y/N

Warnings: None, just fluff!

Bucky Barnes had long mastered the art of keeping secrets. A lifetime of espionage, coded messages and covert operations had trained him well.

But nothing at all compared to the delicate art of keeping you a secret.

It had started off as a mutual agreement. With the team’s habit of meddling, Tony’s ever-pressing need for gossip, and Sam’s endless teasing, you and Bucky had decided to keep your relationship under wraps - for a little while, at least. It was a game at first, slipping past the team unnoticed, brushing hands under the table, and sharing stolen kisses behind closed doors. But then, as the months passed, the secret became something precious, something just for the two of you.

The relationship had formed in the quiet moments, the ones no one else was around to witness. Late nights in the kitchen, when you’d both found yourselves restless and unable to sleep, standing side by side as you made tea and whispered about everything and nothing at all. Afternoons in the training room, where teasing jabs turned into full-blown sparring matches, and Bucky - though more than capable of winning - let you pin him down, just to see the victorious look in your eye.

Then there were the mornings. The ones where Bucky woke before the sun, only to stay in bed a little longer, watching the steady rise and fall of your chest. He still had nightmares, but waking up with you beside him made them feel less suffocating. The warmth of your body against his was enough to ground him, to remind him that he was here, now, and not lost in a past he couldn’t change.

You had a way of making things feel lighter, easier. You made him laugh - really laugh, the kind of deep, rumbling sound that felt foreign to him for so long. You made him feel human, whole, wanted.

And in return, Bucky adored you in ways he didn’t know he was capable of. He was careful with you, always aware of how much strength he held, but he also indulged you in the little things - the way you liked your coffee, the books you loved to reread, the songs you hummed absentmindedly while cooking. He paid attention, memorized it all, stored it away in the part of his mind he refused to let Hydra steal from him.

Maybe that’s why the secret lasted as long as it did - because it wasn’t just a secret, it was your secret.

Bucky had come a long way since stepping into this new world. Thanks to Tony’s tech lessons and your patient guidance, he had fully embraced modern-day conveniences. His biggest triumph? The front-facing camera. Selfies had become his thing. Not the social-media-influencer kind, but the ‘random snapshots of Alpine’ kind. Photos of her curled up beside him, stretching in the sun, or the occasional picture of you next to him when you weren’t looking, often followed by a cheeky text: stunning, doll.

But tonight, completely by accident, he blew your cover.

The selfie wasn’t supposed to be evidence. It was just Bucky being Bucky. He had suited up for one of Tony’s extravagant parties, wearing one of those sleek, dark suits that made him look like he belonged in a black-and-white film

He’d snapped a quick photo in the mirror of his bedroom, looking sharp and effortless, hair neatly tucked back, the metal of his vibranium arm catching the light just right. It was a rare moment of vanity, and he thought ‘why not?’

So he uploaded it.

Within minutes, the Stark Tower group chat was in chaos.

Bucky stared at his phone, his face frozen in something between amusement and horror.

He had been so focused on checking the lighting, the angle, and the damn tie that he hadn’t noticed the very obvious evidence of you in his bed. The blanket had slipped just enough to reveal a pair of very recognizable bare legs—the unmistakable confirmation that Bucky Barnes was, indeed, not sleeping alone.

He glanced over his shoulder where you were still stretched out on the bed, scrolling through your phone. “Uh… we might have a problem.”

You looked up and frowned. “What kind of problem?”

Wordlessly, he turned the screen to you.

You blinked. Then, you gasped. Then, you laughed - a full, delighted, eyes-sparkling kind of laugh that made his chest ache in the best way.

“Oh, Hun,” you grinned, taking his phone to read the messages, “you really did it this time.”

A flurry of frantic thoughts raced through Bucky’s mind as he raked his fingers through his hair. He wasn’t ashamed of your relationship, not in the slightest. If anything, he was proud of the way you made him feel human again, proud that you had chosen him of all people. But after months of keeping things low-key, this wasn’t how he had planned for the world - or rather, the most nosy people in the world - to find out.

“What do we do?” he muttered, pacing the room as you continued laughing, sprawled lazily on the bed.

“Well,” you mused, tapping your chin in mock thoughtfulness, “we could deny, deny, deny.”

Bucky gave you a look. “Doll.”

“Or,” you continued, grinning at his exasperation, “we could own it. Show up to the party like we planned, act completely unbothered, and let them squirm.”

He stopped pacing, considering. The idea of watching Tony and Sam try to pry information out of him while he coolly deflected every attempt? That was tempting.

“I like the way you think,” he admitted, sitting on the edge of the bed beside you.

You sat up, curling your legs underneath you. “Besides, it’s not like we’re doing anything wrong.”

Bucky smiled, reaching out to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear. “Nope. Just keeping what’s ours, ours.”

You leaned into his touch, your voice softer now. “Exactly.”

With that, you stood, stretching before grabbing his tie and fixing it properly. Bucky watched you, admiring the way you fit so seamlessly into his life. Maybe the secret had been fun while it lasted, but deep down, a part of him was relieved. The world would know now. And that was okay because you weren’t just anyone.

You were his.

He pressed a kiss to your forehead, murmuring, “Let’s go give ‘em something to talk about.”

By the time you both arrived at the party, fashionably late, as planned. The curiosity in the air was palpable. Conversations hushed the second Bucky stepped into the grand Stark Tower ballroom, all eyes scanning him for clues. But it was when you followed him inside, your hand effortlessly slipping into his, that everything clicked.

Sam, holding a drink, nearly choked on it. Steve, ever the gentleman, tried to hide his smirk. Natasha only raised an eyebrow in amusement, while Tony clapped his hands together with a ‘Finally!’ that made half the room turn.

“Oh, this is rich,” Sam announced, pointing at you both. “Barnes, you sneaky bastard.”

Bucky, completely unfazed, only pulled you closer. “Took you long enough to figure it out.”

“Not my fault you decided to upload evidence.”

Tony was already pouring champagne, grinning from ear to ear. “This calls for a toast. To Bucky and his very, very poorly hidden romance!”

You rolled your eyes, leaning into Bucky’s side. “Well, we hid it for long enough, didn’t we?”

He kissed your temple, whispering, “You okay, doll?”

You smiled up at him, squeezing his hand. “More than okay.”

And then, Bucky made a decision. He could entertain the team’s interrogation, let them pry into the little details of how this all started or he could do what he truly wanted to do tonight.

With a smirk, he turned to the crowd. “I’d love to stay and chat,” he announced smoothly, “but I have plans.”

Tony raised an eyebrow. “And what plans might those be, Tin Man?”

Bucky pulled you toward the dance floor, his grip firm yet gentle. “Spending the night dancing with my girl.”

And just like that, the world faded away.

The music swelled around you both, a slow, romantic tune that set the perfect rhythm for the way Bucky held you in his arms. His hand rested at the small of your back, his vibranium fingers tracing delicate patterns against the fabric of your dress. You melted into him, your head resting against his shoulder as he swayed you across the dance floor.

“You really don’t care that they know now?” you asked softly, looking up at him.

Bucky shook his head, a rare, carefree smile gracing his lips. “Nah. Kinda nice, actually. No more sneaking around. Just you and me, doll.”

Warmth bloomed in your chest, an undeniable swell of love for this man who had once hidden in the shadows, and now stood in the light - completely, unapologetically yours.

For the rest of the night, Bucky barely let you go. When you weren’t dancing, he had an arm around you, his fingers playing with the ends of your hair, his gaze never drifting far from you. And when the party eventually calmed down and Tony, drunk on champagne, grumbled about needing more drama in his life. Bucky only pulled you in for one last dance, his lips ghosting over your ear as he murmured,

“Best night ever.”

——————————————————————————————————

Hope you enjoyed the fluff, My Dear! 🫶

#bucky x reader #bucky x y/n #bucky barnes #marvel #bucky fluff #secret relationship #james bucky barnes

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holyhaech · 2 days ago

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hiiiiii!!! can i request Jisung with the 3rd prompt please

stupid cupid

f!reader x park jisung (fluff, secret admirer)

you wake up on a random monday, normal as ever. everything following your regularly scheduled programming. well, until you get a text. it’s probably just your friends, asking you to join them at the party on friday, it’s valentine’s day after all! you already told them you’d go, but maybe they were just double-checking?

you open the text to see that it’s from a random number with the contact labeled “smu cupid”. what kind of stupid prank was this? i mean sure, you had no valentine. but this was just ridiculous. one of your friends must’ve signed you up for this.

you sigh as you read the text.

“you are beautiful, i love your smile. i see you smile from the back row of prof. lee’s lectures, usually when you talk to your friends. god, i wish i could be the one to make you smile like that one day. - andy.”

odd. i mean, it’s sweet and all, but it has to be written by a bot. there’s no one in your lectures named andy. not to mention the whole back row is usually too busy playing roblox to notice anything in front of them.

so you make it your mission for the next 2 days to track down this andy guy. you look back during your lectures, glancing at the back row, which confirms your suspicions. no one in the back row does anything but play video games.

little do you know, there’s a guy directly behind you 2 rows back. he looks at you every lecture, then hides behind his macbook once you turn around. he wishes he wasn’t so shy. but alas, that’s who park jisung was. the quiet nerd in the back of the lecture hall.

you gave up on the third day, thursday the 13th. there’s no chance that someone was going to as you to be their valentine. you convinced yourself that you were okay with that. the messages didn’t stop though, one per day.

tuesday: “i love the way you did your hair today, if i was yours i’d braid your hair every day if i could.”

wednesday: “you’re so smart it boggles my mind! how did you know the answer when no one else did? you amaze me everyday.”

and now, thursday: “this sounds weird but could you go to the big lawn at 4pm? i get out of my last class at 3:30, so i want to ask you something.”

well here you are, 3:58, standing in the middle of the big lawn, looking like a loser. the clock keeps ticking down, with you doubting this whole thing more and more every second.

at 4:02 he shows up, out of breath with flowers in his hand. your secret admirer was none other than park jisung? the boy you had a crush on for all of freshman year? this had to be a joke.

“you’re…andy?” you ask, suspicious.

“uhh yes! it’s my english name. my korean name is park jisung.” you extend his hand holding the flowers, handing them to you.

“i can’t believe this.” you say incredulously.

“did i do something wrong? ireadthatflowersaregoodforconfessionsandtheseremindedmeofyouand.” he rushes through his words, panicking

you cut him off with a kiss on the cheek. “it’s perfect jisung, thank you.”

his cheeks turn crimson. “oh, you’re welcome.” he responds meekly.

“i just wanted to say that i’ve had a crush on you since two years ago, in english 101. and at first i thought it was just a fleeting thing, i don’t know i’ve never been in love before. but my feelings just kept growing the more and more i saw you. i was just wondering if you would like to be my valentine? sorry that all sounded really creepy.” he stops himself to find you making eye contact with him with a bright smile on your face.

“i like you too, jisung or should i say…andy.”

he looks back at you with wide eyes, obviously not expecting this reaction.

you pull him in for a soft kiss. he melts into your lips, sinking into you with every passing second. you pull back to take a breath, with him panting in front of you.

“i love you, yn.”

“i love you too.”

you come together in an embrace, slowly rocking back and forth, enjoying the sunset behind you both.

a/n: title is inspired by nct dream's stupid cupid. hope you like this anon! i feel like it kinda sucks but oh well! we're our harshest critics ig. made this bc i'm tired of the fuckboy jisung allegations!!! that man is a capital L LOSER. he would cream his pants from just a kiss, its true!

#nct fanfic #nct au #nct dream #nct x reader #nct dream x you #nct dream x reader #nct dream fluff #nct fluff #park jisung #jisung nct #jisung x reader #nct jisung x reader

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lovetaroandtaemin · 1 day ago

Text

Don't Run Away

Lee Seokmin x Reader

Word Count: 4,498

Genre: Angst, Fluff

Rating: Some adult themes, MINORS DNI!

Summary: When unexpected circumstances lead to Y/N sharing an apartment with her best friend's older brother, the transition from acquaintances to roommates is anything but smooth. Over time, however, the two realize that they truly care about each other. Will a drunk confession bring them together, or will Y/N continue to run away from her feelings?

Content Warnings: Mentions of cheating/toxic relationships but no details, food, alcohol, misunderstandings. If you think I missed a warning, please let me know!

A/N: This fic is part of the Lonely Hearts Cafe collab, hosted by the incredible @camandemstudios! If you like this fic and want to check out the other incredible fics in this collab, the masterlist can be found here! Make sure to show all the other writers involved in this collab some love!

Taglist: @xomakara, @notyourjaem, @heechwe, @shadowkoo

Fic is under the cut.

When your best friend called you at 10 PM on a random Friday, you knew that your life was going to be turned upside down. The only thing that you didn’t know yet was exactly how. Well, you couldn’t really know until you answered the phone, so that’s exactly what you did.

“What’s up?” you asked.

“Hi, bestie!” Chaewon began. “You know how I did that thing for you that one time?”

“What do you want, Chae?”

“So, you remember Seokmin, right?”

“Yeah,” you said, suspicious of where the conversation was going. “Is he ok?”

“Jihyo dumped him and kicked him out of their apartment. Is there any possibility that he could stay with you until he finds his own place?”

You sighed, unsure of how to answer. On one hand, Seokmin was the bane of your existence. Every time he was around you and Chaewon, he did everything in his power to annoy the two of you. Your best friend never paid him any attention, citing typical sibling dynamics as an explanation for his determination to pester you two, but you just couldn’t let it slide. Everything he did got under your skin, and you really didn’t know if you wanted to be stuck in the same apartment with him for who knows how long.

On the other hand, however, you knew firsthand just how much breakups sucked when you lived with the person that broke up with you, and that made you want to help. Despite how much Seokmin got on your nerves, he was in a bad spot, and you were able to help him out of said bad spot. Plus, your old roommate had recently moved into her fiancé’s apartment, and you really couldn’t afford your apartment on your own.

Reluctantly, you said, “Yeah, he can stay here.”

“Thank you so much, (Y/N). We both owe you one.”

“Don’t worry about it. I need help with rent anyway.”

“Can he start moving in tomorrow?”

“Yeah, that works.”

“Thank you so much. I told him he could sleep on my couch tonight, but I don’t have room in my apartment for him to stay here long-term.”

“I understand. I’ll see you tomorrow, I guess.”

“See you tomorrow!”

You hung up the phone with a defeated sigh. Sure, you liked to help people, and you loved Chaewon dearly, but you were not looking forward to living with Seokmin. Still, you were determined to try to make the best of the situation. After all, you hadn’t seen Seokmin in years. Maybe he was different now that you weren’t kids anymore.

When Seokmin moved into your apartment the next morning, your hopes were shattered. The moment he saw you, he started making snarky comments.

“Wow, (Y/N). I wasn’t expecting you to still be such a loser,” he said, gesturing to the band tee you threw on after waking up.

“Do you really wanna talk that way to the woman whose apartment you’re moving into?” you asked, already tired of his shit. Seokmin immediately shut up after that, and you couldn’t help but smile. You knew that you were being an asshole, but sometimes that was necessary to get other people to stop being assholes to you.

Your hopes that Seokmin wouldn’t be as insufferable as he was when you were kids were ruined once again after all of his things were moved into your apartment. The two of you were standing in your living room, and with a shit-eating grin on his face and a voice that could piss off even the kindest of souls, he looked right at you and commented, “You look like shit today. Is everything ok?”

“Yeah, I’m fine,” you spat. “I look like shit because I woke up at six in the morning so that I could help you move all of your shit into my apartment. I’m really not in the mood for this today. If you’ll excuse me, I have things to do.”

Before Seokmin could say another word, you stormed off to your room and got to work reorganizing your bookshelf. You’d planned to start earlier in the day, but when Chaewon and Seokmin showed up at your apartment with more boxes than you thought humanly possible shoved into the back of Seokmin’s truck, you knew that your day would not go according to plan.

You spent the rest of your afternoon reorganizing your books while Seokmin unpacked, and for the most part, he left you alone. Occasionally, he would come into your room to ask for help moving something heavy, but for the most part, he kept to himself. You started to wonder if you’d been too harsh earlier, but in the end, you didn’t particularly care if you were. After all, Seokmin was rude, loud, and exactly the type of person that you didn’t want to be around

After that first day, however, living with Seokmin went much smoother than you thought that it would. Sure, he still had his annoying moments, like when he made jokes about the music you liked or the way you dressed, but for the most part, the two of you got along fine. You even started to enjoy his company, something that you never expected to happen

You also never thought that you would say that Seokmin was incredibly attractive, yet here you were, admiring every little thing about the way he looked while he told you about his favorite video games over dinner. You hated to admit it, but he looked good now that he was out of the awkward phase you’d witnessed in high school.

Seokmin also found himself enjoying your company far more than he thought he would. When he was younger, you were just his little sister’s annoying best friend. Actually living with you, however, introduced him to a different side of your personality that made you seem significantly less annoying. He was embarrassed to admit it, but he also thought you were absolutely gorgeous, and he occasionally found himself wondering if you thought about him the same way that he thought about you.

A few months after Seokmin moved in with you, Chaewon’s birthday arrived, and everything went to shit as you started planning her party. You’d planned parties before, and they’d gone well, but this time, every single thing went wrong, and it was overwhelming, to say the least. The decorations took far longer than usual to set up because all of your friends that had previously agreed to help bailed on you at the last possible second. The restaurant that you’d hired to cater the party called you to tell you that they couldn’t complete your order because of an ingredient shortage. And to top it all off, the morning of the party, Chaewon called you in tears because she’d caught her boyfriend cheating on her with his best friend. You were happy to be a shoulder for your best friend to cry on, but you couldn’t help but get angry at Heeseung for deciding that his girlfriend’s birthday was the right time to try to fuck someone else.

The last straw was when you asked Seokmin to pick up the cake that you’d ordered from Chaewon’s favorite bakery. He happily agreed to pick up the cake, but when he came home, he was empty-handed and angry. Confused and slightly annoyed, you asked, “Where’s the cake?”

“Nonexistent,” he spat, clearly frustrated but also clearly trying not to take it out on you.

“What do you mean?”

“I mean that the cake doesn’t exist, it-”

“I know what nonexistent means, Seokmin. Why the fuck isn’t there a cake?”

“They said that it isn’t ready, and they won’t have it ready until tomorrow.”

“But the party is tonight.”

“I know that!” Seokmin snapped.

“You didn’t have to yell at me,” you mumbled, tears starting to form in your eyes.

“God damn it. I’m sorry, (Y/N). I just-”

“No, it’s ok. I’ll be right back,” you responded, abruptly leaving the kitchen to go to your room.

You knew that Seokmin didn’t mean to lash out at you, and you knew that you would have to explain to him that he wasn’t the reason that you broke down, but you weren’t thinking about that as you collapsed onto your bed and sobbed. Everything that could have gone wrong went wrong, and you were just tired. You really wanted your best friend to have a fun birthday party, but every mishap shook your faith in your ability to pull it off just a little bit more.

Once you weren’t crying anymore and felt like you could breathe again, you decided to look for Seokmin and apologize. He was nowhere in your apartment, however, and you started to worry. Where the fuck could he possibly have gone? And why didn’t he tell you where he was going or even that he was leaving? You didn’t know, so you decided to text him.

Y/N: Where are you?

Seokmin: Out.

Y/N: I mean I figured, but where did you go?

Seokmin: I just needed to take care of something. I’ll be back in about an hour.

Y/N: Ok, see you then.

Slightly more than an hour after you texted him, Seokmin walked through the door with one of the most beautifully decorated cakes you’d ever seen. The frosting was Chaewon’s favorite shade of blue, and darker blue fondant roses surrounded the words “Happy birthday, Chaewon!” You immediately started to tear up again, and Seokmin promptly set the cake down and pulled you into a hug before he asked, “What’s going on?”

That was when the floodgates opened once again. In between sobs, you explained, “I’m so sorry; I didn’t mean to snap at you. Trying to plan this party has just been too much, and I-”

“Hey, it’s ok,” Seokmin interrupted, rubbing your back as you cried. “I know you didn’t mean it. I was just worried about you. I figured you might be a bit overwhelmed, so I handled the cake. Seungkwan helped me add some more decorations after I got the cake from the supermarket.”

“Thank you. That means a lot.”

“Don’t mention it.”

The room went silent after that, and you found yourself finally starting to relax in Seokmin’s arms. As you realized just how calm he made you feel, however, you started to get a little bit frustrated as well. You appreciated the fact that he took the time to comfort you, of course, but the way his arms felt around you and the soft way that he’d spoken to you as he comforted you made your crush on him even more intense, and you were not in the mood to deal with that. Still, you did briefly consider ripping the bandage off and just telling him how much you liked him and how you felt when he hugged you, but you knew that it probably wouldn’t go over well. After all, you had a pretty strong feeling that he’d never see you the way you’d started to see him since he’d moved into your apartment.

Seokmin was happier holding you than he had been in a long time. Even Jihyo never made him as happy as he was in that moment, which was far from what he expected, but he didn’t really mind the feeling. He wanted to tell you exactly how he felt, but he knew that Chaewon’s birthday was not the ideal time to do that, especially when he considered how overwhelmed you’d been all day. On top of that, he was fairly certain that there was no way you could ever like him the same way he liked you. Regardless of his certainty of how you felt about him, he still let himself have the slightest bit of hope that your feelings would change one day.

At some point, the time for guests to start arriving at your apartment arrived, and you felt like a nervous wreck. Through it all, though, Seokmin was right by your side, and you greatly appreciated it. Not many people had been invited to Chaewon’s party, but that didn’t change the fact that the party would probably still be complete and utter chaos. After all, your friends tended to be very loud and very messy, especially when alcohol was involved.

The first person to arrive was Seungkwan, Seokmin’s friend that helped him decorate the cake. When you saw him, you greeted him with a smile and a hug and said, “Seokmin told me what you did. Thank you so much.”

“It’s no problem,” Seungkwan said. “Seokmin mentioned how upset you were when he told you about the bakery being run by idiots, and I’m always happy to help a friend out of a jam.”

“You have no idea how much I appreciate that.”

You let go of Seungkwan and waited for the other guests to arrive, which didn’t take long. As Chaewon’s closest friends filed into your apartment, you couldn’t help but smile and think about just how loved your best friend was by pretty much everyone that she met.

The birthday girl herself arrived last, and that was when the fun really began as people started dancing, drinking, and partaking in other activities that you had no real interest in. You loved Chaewon dearly, but she was much more of an extrovert than you were, and it showed as the party went on. While she was in the middle of the dance floor with a guy that you barely knew, you were off to the side enjoying your third glass of wine of the evening. Or your fourth, you weren’t really sure anymore. All you really knew was that at some point, Seokmin came up to you and asked, “Why aren’t you dancing?”

“Not really interested,” you answered. “Besides, I’ve never really found the right partner.”

“Fair enough.”

“Why aren’t you dancing?” you asked, hoping to get the attention back onto him instead of you.

“Haven’t found the right partner yet,” he answered.

The way he opened his mouth again made you think that there was something else he wanted to say, but nothing else was said. So, you didn’t press. Instead, without really thinking about it, you blurted out, “Maybe I could be the right partner.”

Seokmin’s eyes widened at your comment, and that was when you actually processed what you said. Before you could apologize or defend yourself, however, he smiled and said, “Maybe you could be.”

“Wanna find out?”

“I thought you said you weren’t interested,” he replied with a soft laugh.

“I wasn’t until you showed up.”

The expression on Seokmin’s face shifted to something that you couldn’t quite identify, but he still reached his hand out for you to take and led you to where everyone else was dancing. As your body moved in time with his, you thought about whether it would be a good idea to finally tell him how you really felt. On the one hand, he’d been incredibly receptive to your initial attempt at flirting, as evidenced by the fact that you were even on the dance floor with him at all. On the other hand, you had no way of knowing if he actually wanted a relationship like you did or if he was just trying to have a bit of fun while he was at a party.

Despite your concerns, the chemistry between you and Seokmin was undeniable. So, against your better judgement, you leaned closer to him and whispered, “You know, I have a huge crush on you.”

Seokmin didn’t respond verbally, but he didn’t need to. The expression of shock on his face and the way he abruptly stopped dancing told you all that you needed to know. So, wanting to avoid any further embarrassment, you went to your room.

When you finally made your way through the crowd of people in your apartment and got to your bedroom, you shut the door and collapsed onto your bed, crying over everything that had gone wrong over the course of the day yet again. During the first half of the party, you actually started to feel better about all of the mishaps that had occurred before the guests arrived. Once you saw the way Seokmin reacted to your confession, however, the emotions that you’d so carefully hidden away came right back to the surface.

You cried for what felt like hours before there was a gentle knock on your door. You quickly sat up and stopped yourself from crying just long enough to choke out, “Who is it?”

“It’s Seungkwan. Seokmin asked me to come get you, since we’re getting ready to have cake.”

God, he didn’t even want to talk to you himself. He had to send Seungkwan to get you instead. The thought hurt you, but after a deep breath, you managed to say, “I’ll be out in just a minute!”

You quickly collected yourself, pushing your tears away until you could cry uninterrupted and plastering a fake smile on your face. When you opened the door, you said, “Thanks for letting me know.”

You carefully walked back to your living room, where Chaewon was standing, a plate of cake in her hand and a smile on her face. The rest of the guests had just finished singing “Happy Birthday,” and she looked happier than she’d been in weeks. You had a strong feeling that it was because Heeseung was finally gone, but you didn’t want to ask and ruin the party by bringing him up if that wasn’t the case. So, you chalked it up to the party that you planned being far more successful than you’d expected.

As Seokmin and Seungkwan served everyone else at the party a slice of cake, you felt like you were going to start crying again. So, you slipped out of the room and onto your balcony for some fresh air.

You knew that you were probably overreacting, but your frustrations with the events of the day and your drunkenness were a perfect storm for an overreaction. So, while you hated yourself for crying over a guy not liking you back, you didn’t let the self-hatred stop you from feeling the way that you needed to feel, at least while you were outside alone.

You never went back to the party, so you had no idea what time it ended. When you went back inside, however, you figured that it had been over for a while, considering the fact that your apartment was spotless, and the only people still in your living room were Seokmin, Seungkwan, and Chaewon.

“Hi, bestie!” Chaewon began. “Where were you?”

“Outside,” you answered halfheartedly.

“But why?” Seokmin asked. You chose not to answer him, however. If you didn’t know better, you would have said he looked hurt, but you couldn’t wrap your head around why. After all, he’d made it clear that he didn’t want to be around you.

“Is everything ok?” Chaewon asked.

“Yeah. I’m fine, Chae,” you replied. “I’m just tired. I think I’m gonna go to bed. Good night, guys.”

Seokmin, Seungkwan, and Chaewon all said good night, and you trudged to your room. You’d thought that you were over what had happened during the party, but the tears that streamed down your face as you thought about the rejection again proved you wrong.

The next morning, you woke up to Seokmin’s voice calling your name from another room. You really didn’t want to go out there and see what was going on, but you knew that ignoring him would only make the situation worse. So, you hesitantly walked out to your kitchen and asked, “What’s up?”

“I just finished making pancakes,” he answered, his signature grin on his face as he held a spatula in his hand. “Do you want some?”

“No thanks. I’m not hungry,” you replied flatly.

“Oh, ok. Well, I’ll leave them on the counter in case you change your mind,” he said, the smile disappearing from his face as he spoke.

You felt bad for upsetting Seokmin, but you really couldn’t bring yourself to act like you were ok ater all of the embarrassment of the night before. He didn’t even speak after you told him that you liked him, and that hurt you more than it would have if he’d just told you that he wasn’t interested. So, you avoided him unless speaking was absolutely necessary.

Weeks went by with you avoiding Seokmin, and it killed him inside. All he wanted was to talk to you, but unless it was absolutely necessary or he spoke to you first, you just refused to give him the time of day. He desperately wanted to know if he’d done something wrong, but you wouldn’t even talk to him long enough for him to find out. So, he started to think about other ways to figure out what had happened.

It was Valentine’s Day when Seokmin decided to try talking to Chaewon and asking her if something was going on with you. He knew that he probably wouldn’t get much information from her, considering the fact that he wasn’t particularly close to his sister, but he really didn’t know what else to do. So, he sent Chaewon a text. Hopefully, he could find out what happened and actually get you to spend time with him to celebrate the holiday together.

Seokmin: Hey. Did something happen with (Y/N)?

Chaewon: Why do you wanna know?

Seokmin: Come on, Chae. She hasn’t been acting like herself lately. I just wanna make sure she’s ok.

Chaewon: She’s fine. Have you ever considered that she just doesn’t wanna talk to you?

Seokmin: It’s the only explanation I can think of. I just can’t figure out why.

Chaewon: Well, I can’t tell you.

Seokmin: God damn it. Fine.

When the conversation with his sister proved to be a wasted effort, he decided to try something else. He really didn’t like the idea of tricking you into telling him what was wrong, but he was at a loss for what else to do. So, when you came home from work, he approached you and asked, “Can I talk to you about something?”

“Sure,” you replied, hesitant but curious. “What’s going on?”

“Something is wrong with your room.

“What do you mean? I haven’t noticed any problems.”

“The problem is that you’ve been spending more time in there than usual and avoiding talking to me unless you have to. What’s going on?”

Your eyes went wide at his question, but you quickly regained your composure and deadpanned, “I’m not avoiding you.”

“Yes, you are. Did I do something wrong?”

“No, you didn’t.”

“Then why don’t you talk to me anymore?”

You didn’t want to answer at first, but when you saw the hurt in Seokmin’s eyes, you sighed and said, “I didn’t want to make you uncomfortable.”

“(Y/N), I mean this with the utmost respect. What the actual fuck are you talking about?”

“I’m talking about what happened at Chaewon’s party a few weeks ago.”

“What the hell happened at Chaewon’s party? I thought we got along great until you disappeared.”

“Do you seriously not remember it?”

“Remember what?”

“That I told you that I liked you.”

“Yeah, I remember that, but why would that make me-”

Oh.

“You didn’t even say anything after I said it. The way you reacted made me think that you were uncomfortable, and I wanted to deal with the way I felt about your reaction in private, so I left.”

“I wasn’t uncomfortable. I was just surprised. I’ve liked you for a while, so I really didn’t know what to say when I found out that you felt the same way.”

“So, I’ve been avoiding you for no reason this entire time?” you asked, shocked at how badly you’d misinterpreted his actions.

“Pretty much,” he answered with a laugh. “I’m sorry about how I reacted. I didn’t mean to make you think I was upset with you.”

“No, it’s ok. I just feel like an idiot for not talking to you about the whole thing sooner.”

“Hey, you’re not an idiot. You panicked, and that’s perfectly understandable.”

“So, you don’t hate me?”

“I never could. Actually, I think that I might love you.”

Your eyes went wide once again at the admission, and with a smile, you said, “I think that I might love you too.”

After you admitted that you felt the same way about him that he felt about you, Seokmin took the opportunity to pull you closer and kiss you. With a soft sigh, you relaxed into his hold, wrapping your arms around his neck. When he finally pulled away, he smiled and said, “So, how do you wanna celebrate Valentine’s Day, baby?”

You giggled when you heard the nickname and asked, “Can we just watch a movie and cuddle? I think that going out would be a little much for me right now.”

“Of course,” he answered as he led you to your couch and sat down.

You took a seat on your couch next to Seokmin and leaned closer to him, and he wrapped his arm around your shoulder and pulled you close.

There were no words that could possibly describe the amount of relief that coursed through Seokmin’s body now that you were actually talking to him again. Not only that, but you actually liked him the same way that he liked you, and he couldn’t have been happier as he held you close while the two of you watched a movie.

As the end credits rolled across your screen, you felt like you were about to fall asleep any second. Despite your exhaustion, however, you needed to ask Seokmin something. Hesitantly, you looked up at him and asked, “So, does this mean that we’re together?”

“I mean I would hope it does,” he answered with a soft laugh. “Otherwise, I think things might get awkward.”

You laughed at his response and said, “I love you so much.”

“I love you too, baby.”

“Can we go to bed, honey? Please?”

“Of course.”

Seokmin smiled and took your hand, leading you to his bedroom. You were so tired that you didn’t even realize it until you saw the blanket covering his bed that was a different color from the one covering yours. Even when you did notice, though, you didn’t really care. All you cared about was the fact that you’d patched things up with Seokmin, and he was now your boyfriend.

After Seokmin moved the blankets out of the way, he carefully got into bed and reached his arms out toward you, a silent request for you to join him. You happily obliged, snuggling closer to him as he covered both of you with the blanket. Once you were both comfortable, he whispered sweet nothings into your ear until you fell asleep thinking about the best Valentine’s Day you’d ever had and how sometimes, a random call at 10 PM wasn’t that bad.

Thank you for reading! This collab has been so much fun! If you liked this, please like and reblog! If you wanna be tagged in future works, fill out the taglist form here! If you want to check out my other works, check out my main masterlist. If you want to see what else is in the works, you can check my upcoming works list! If none of that interests you, or there's something specific you want to see, feel free to send a request via my asks or dms!

Thank you again for reading! I hope you all have a lovely Valentine's Day tomorrow!

#kvanity #keopihausnet #lonelyheartscafecollab #kpop fanfic #kpop imagines #kpop angst #kpop fluff #seventeen x reader #seventeen imagine #seventeen fanfic #seventeen fic #svt x reader #svt angst #svt fluff #svt dk x reader #dk x reader #dk angst #dk fluff

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w2soneshots · 6 hours ago

Text

Valentine -W2S

words: 1.0k+

warnings: none, just fluff!

summary: you and Harry spend a wholesome valentines day together.

notes: hello my loves! I’m single af so here’s a cute little fic I wrote with my fav British boy to make me feel better😌🫶🏼. Enjoy!!✨

Liked by wroetoshaw, taliamar and others

y/username: happy Valentine's Day💌

-comments-

wroetoshaw: sneaky

-> y/username: took my chance while you were distracted by the sweets🤗

faithloisak: gorgeous as always

-> y/username: I 💗 U

y/nfanpage21: balloons AND flowers! my girls living the dream🥹🤍

user: ugh, they're disgustingly cute

I opened my eyes and the first thing I saw was red heart shaped balloons. I looked around for Harry but he was nowhere to be found. I was extremely confused for a second before I remembered that it was valentine's day.

Just a few minutes later Harry walked into our bedroom holding a tray. "Good morning love," he greeted with a bright smile before placing it in my lap. The tray had pancakes covered in fresh fruit, a coffee and a card tucked into the side.

I looked up at him. "Thank you. Happy valentines day baby." Harry smiled then leaned down and we shared a quick kiss.

After eating the food, which was delicious, I opened the card. On the front it read, "you're a bit of a twat, but you're my twat." with read hearts surrounding the letters. "Very funny," I mumbled through laughter.

Inside the card was a different story. He wrote, "to y/n. I love you so much I don't think I could live without you (so you better not leave me!)," I giggled as he sat patiently waiting for me to read. I continued, "we have a special dinner at 7 so be ready to get your hands dirty. Love Harry."

"That was so sweet." I set the card on my nightstand and moved over to hug him. "Okay, wait there. Lemme go get your card from me!" I called as I cheerfully made my way into our wardrobe where I'd hidden everything.

I returned just a minute later with a gift bag. "Ooo, what's this...?" Harry inquired as I plonked myself down next to him and passed him the bag. "Open it and see!"

Harry was quick to fling the tissue paper across the room and look inside. "Ah! This is sick!" He looked at me with the cutest and brightest smile. He pulled out the special addition supreme jumper that he's had his eye on.

It wasn't super cute or wholesome like most valentines gifts but he's impossible to buy for so I didn't have many options.

"How the fuck did you manage to get this?" He asked, "it's been sold out everywhere!" I chuckled as he admired it. "I have my ways..."

A few hours later we decided it'd be fun to go and see the movie we've been wanting to watch in the cinema. We both got dressed into some comfy clothes and headed out.

On our way we stopped off at a shop to get some snacks since they're always extremely overpriced in the cinema and Harry loves a bargain. "Which one do you want? Actually... I'll just get all of 'em," he said as he looked at the selection of sweets. I giggled when he stood up with an excessive amount of them in the basket.

After watching the movie we stopped off for some lunch and then spontaneously decided to go bowling since we walked past the place on our way home.

wroetoshaw posted a new story!

"Beat ya!" I smiled when the final scores registered on the board. "By like... two points," Harry huffed. "Don't be a sore loser baby," I teased with a smirk then leaned into him to press a kiss to his lips. "Alright alright," he chuckled, "let's go home."

We walked back to our apartment building, hand in hand. The sun was setting and the air was surprisingly warm for February, in London. I breathed out a content sigh and leaned my head on his shoulder when we finally got into the lift.

"Hungry?" Harry asked me a little while later, while we sat on our couch with a random show playing on the tv, that we definitely weren't paying attention to.

"Mhm," I hummed. He jumped up. "Well, we're makin' pizza!" he said excitedly, "you coming petal?" I cocked my head to the side in surprise. "Oh, Haz. How romantic," I replied with a smile and followed him into the kitchen.

He took his time making the dough while I prepared the sauce and grated the cheese. Just as I was pouring the sauce into a pot I felt a puff of flour cover my shirt.

"Ah! Absolutely not!" I giggled before quickly gathering some in the palm of my hand and blowing it straight into his face. He coughed out a laugh. "Jesus Christ woman!"

He rolled out his pizza into a misshapen circle while I made mine into a cute little heart. We then covered it in tomato sauce, sprinkled on the cheese and added any last toppings.

y/username posted a new story!

After popping our masterpieces into the oven we sat back on the sofa with our drinks of choice and waited patiently for them to finish cooking.

"Mmm... this was one of the best ideas you've ever had," I murmured happily with a mouth full of pizza. "I know. I'm a genius, what can I say." I shook my head as I giggled at his sarcastic cockiness.

"You ready for bed love?" He asked as I yawned. I nodded slowly. I closed my eyes for just a second and before I could even process what was happening I was being lifted into the air, fireman style.

I leaned into my boyfriend's chest and exhaled deeply. He set me down on our bed gently. "I'm just gonna go take a shower. I'll be back in a minute to get into bed with you. Good night, I love you and happy Valentine's Day," he whispered with a kiss to my forehead before I drifted off with a soft smile on my lips.

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ssentimentals · 1 day ago

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it was always you - fernando alonso/lance stroll, 6k, rated T, completed!

Lance takes a sip and lets warm liquid settle his anxiety and mentally prepare him for the beginning of this week. He decides to think of this cup as one-time thing, mismatched coffee that somehow ended up on his desk; he’s sure that there will be no more gifts.

He is wrong. So, so wrong.

or, secret admirer!AU. It gets worse before it gets better.

(Read on AO3) or read below the cut!

a/n: this work is a part of Lance Love Fest collection by @no00000000. thank you so much for creating this wonderful fest of the most wonderful boy ever :') 💜

One.

It starts with coffee on his desk on a random Monday morning. Cappuccino on oat milk with vanilla syrup in a fancy takeaway cup. It’s not from Starbucks on the first floor and nor is it from their cafeteria; Lance immediately recognizes small and pretty logo from his favorite little Italian place not far from the office. It’s horrifically overpriced, but what’s the point of making money if not to spend it on stuff that makes work a little more bearable? Coffee is amazing and their butter tarts are to die for – Lance is ready to close his eyes at the cash register for this goodness; sue him for being picky and particular with his food. Lance places his laptop on the desk and gingerly takes the cup in his hands, smiling a little – it’s still warm.

‘Thanks, Este.’ Lance turns to his friend, who is the only other person in their open space at the moment. Esteban looks up from his laptop, giving Lance a little wave for the greeting. ‘I thought you hated the place though.’

‘Which place?’ Esteban asks and when Lance points at his cup, he only shrugs. ‘Still hate it. I’m not posh enough to close my eyes on their ridiculous prices for the coffee.’

Lance’s heart warms up at the thought of his friend hating it and yet still going there to grab him a cup of coffee. ‘Thanks for the coffee, then.’

Esteban frowns. ‘I didn’t buy it.’ And then, because it’s Esteban and there’s no way he’s not interested in someone else’s business, he instantly is up on his feet, coming closer to Lance. ‘You just found it on the desk? Was there a note?’

Lance turns to look but his desk is spotless save for his laptop and whatever disaster he’s got going on with six different cables. There’s nothing on the cup as well, which makes Lance frown. ‘It’s just us here, no?’

Esteban and Lance always come the earliest, turning on their laptop at six thirty – both leave too far from the office to have the luxury of waking up at seven and not being late. Lance takes the cursory glance at their open space, but there’s no one here and it will stay like that for at least thirty minutes – then little by little this place will become lively and full of people.

‘Just you and me,’ Esteban confirms and then turns to the side, squinting. ‘And probably some higher ups from director’s board. You know, the usuals.’

The ‘usuals’ being Mark who is CFO and Fernando who is COO. Lance glances at the cup in his hands. Crazy thought comes to his mind, and he instantly squashes it down, not letting himself even think about it – there’s simply no way.

‘Oh my god,’ Esteban is whispering but he’s too excited to actually hold his voice down, ‘I think that you, my friend, got yourself a secret admirer!’

Lance blinks. He looks at the cup and then back at Este, arching his eyebrow. ‘Sounds unlikely.’

It’s not like Lance finds himself unworthy of such attention, it’s more that Lance is a very self-aware guy. He knows how he looks, knows what kind of impression he makes, knows his pluses and minuses. He’s not self-conscious, but he is also not the guy who is at the top of anyone’s rating and it’s- fine. It is absolutely fine.

‘Let’s wait,’ Esteban says, ever the wise one. ‘If there will be more gifts then it is a secret admirer!’

‘Uh-huh.’

He is wrong. So, so wrong.

Two.

It doesn’t stop with the coffee. There’s a special thing for his cables waiting on the desk and a box of chocolates. Third day starts from another cup of coffee but this time with butter tarts and a small note with ‘they finally had them today, enjoy!’ written in a neat handwriting. On a fourth day Lance finally admits to insistent Esteban that yes, he indeed has a secret admirer. On a fourth day Lance finally lets himself feel the giddiness that rushes through his veins at the sight of something waiting for him on his desk. On a fourth day Lance lets himself hope. He first thought it’d be silly to let this somehow affect him, but what makes life worth living if not those little moments of joy? So, Lance lets himself feel it. Lets smile curl corners of his lips upwards, lets excitement start a fire in the pit of his stomach, lets joy creep in every single corner of his heart. The box that greets him on the fourth day is rather big and Lance hesitates a little before opening it. Esteban, who finds the whole ordeal extremely amusing and now eagerly waits for Lance at his desk every morning, is right next to him, smiling widely with hands clasped in front of him. ‘Lancey, think. Mon couer, you really gotta think, cause if you have someone fancying you enough to gift you something from Hugo Boss then it’s gotta be someone who makes it obvious that they like you. Think. Also, whoever it is, what if they have single friends? I’d also like to receive some presents.’

Lance snorts unattractively. He doesn’t have many friends and none of them would ever pretend to be his secret admirer, and he also doesn’t know anyone who’d be interested in him romantically; Lance kind of forgot how dates look like, at this point. Which is tragic, according to his mother. ‘I have no idea who this might be,’ he replies honestly, opening the box. ‘I think if someone was hitting on me, I’d definitely noti-‘ Lance pauses right when Esteban gasps. ‘Oh.’

It's a scarf. Black one with no logos or any kind of patterns on it. Rather wide but not very long. Cashmere is so soft in his hands and Lance takes his time to appreciate the quality, while Esteban rambles on and on, channeling his inner detective: ‘If it’s not anyone from the outside then it’s someone from the company, one of our co-workers. You and I rarely have meetings with people from other departments, right? So it’s someone from finance. We have around twenty people here, give or take.’

‘Half of the people here are married.’

Esteban nods with a thoughtful look on his face: ‘True. Have you recently told anyone apart from me that you need a new scarf?’

Lance is not exactly a chatterbox; he is also not someone who prefers to stay silent, but he doesn’t often talk about non-work-related things with his co-workers. Unfortunately (or fortunately) working in finance department is very true to all stereotypes in most of the cases: people are not the friendliest bunch, no one is overly excited or loud, closeness between colleagues is a not a common thing here. So, no, Lance doesn’t just go around talking about his shopping needs to anyone who’s willing to listen.

‘Yesterday after the meeting!’ Esteban lights up like a lightbulb. ‘Remember? You and I stayed together with Mark and Fernando, Nico and Kev were there too to go over timings again. We all started talking about snowboarding and stuff. You started the whole conversation about Switzerland, Lancey.’

Lance remembers. He remembers sitting in front of Fernando, trying his hardest to stay concentrated on his laptop screen even when he could feel the older man’s gaze on him. He remembers accidentally bumping their feet together and looking up to find Fernando’s soft smile and ‘no worries, Lance’ thrown at him with a wink. He remembers biting his lower lip to prevent himself from smiling like an idiot but quickly putting his neutral mask on after hearing Mark’s loud sigh. He remembers feeling a slight commotion underneath the table and then Mark’s pained groan. Lance started talking about Switzerland only because Mark suddenly turned to him with a frown, clipping out: ‘Where do you like to snowboard, Lance?’ question at him like he’s being forced to ask this.

‘Yeah, I remember. Talked about Alps… Then I said that I bought gloves recently and that I needed to look for a scarf.’

Esteban looks like he’ll vibrate out of his skin. ‘Let’s see: Nico and Kevin are married. Mark is single, right? Fernando too. And me but I am obviously not gonna gift you a fucking Hugo Boss scarf-‘

‘Obviously,’ Lance mutters, smiling when Esteban slaps his shoulder.

‘Dick. You know I love you, I don’t have to spend that much money on you.’

Lance shrugs. ‘I don’t know, would’ve been nice to receive something expensive from you as well.’

Esteban ignores him completely, too lost in his thoughts. ‘Can it be Mark? Cause it definitely can’t be Fernando. Holy shit, Lance, did you manage to pull a freaking CFO-‘

‘Shh!’ Lance hisses, looking around frantically. There’s no one around but Esteban never fully grasped the concept of ‘whispering’, so Lance still worries. ‘Este, fuck, do you even hear yourself?’

Esteban shrugs like he didn’t just say the most ridiculous thing ever. ‘Mark always kinda favored you, no?’

And that’s – well, Lance has nothing to say about this. Mark did sort of favor him from the start, gave Lance much more trust than someone in his position deserved, but Lance never let him down, always delivered everything in the best way, so he guesses it’s all fair. But just the thought of Mark being his secret admirer makes his stomach churn. Lance tries to sound uninterested as he questions: ‘Why so sure that it’s not Fernando?’

Esteban raises his eyebrow and looks at Lance like he suddenly grew two heads. ‘Are you kidding?’

It shouldn’t sting. It shouldn’t, shouldn’t, shouldn’t – but it does. Lance puts the scarf away and almost wants to laugh at what an idiotic thought crossed his mind, what an idiotic hope flared in his chest. Of course it’s not Fernando. It can never be Fernando, never for Lance. Really, who is he kidding?

Three.

The thing is – Lance has a very silly crush on Fernando. Not the ‘he is hot and I want him’ kind, although Lance can readily admit that Fernando is hot and that he does want him in a sexual way. Actually, if his crush stayed solely on that territory it would’ve made everything easier, but Lance never wanted easy, so his heart chose to get involved as well and complicated everything.

On his very first day when he came to this company as an intern, he met Fernando in the cafeteria, bumping into his back on accident and spilling his coffee all over both of them. He still remembers freezing, remembers feeling like his heart is in his throat, remembers mumbling apologies and looking distraught. He also remembers warm hands on his forearms, amused but kind smile, chocolate eyes looking at him with curiosity. He remembers strong voice with a distinct accent and cheeky wink thrown with ‘you’re good at first impressions’ comment, which made his cheeks burn. For the three years Fernando worked mostly from Spain, so to Lance he stayed as a distant figure on the important meetings with whom he has no correlation. Everything changed when Fernando moved back here from Spain; he started coming to the office almost every day and given Lance’s promotions, number of meetings where both of them were present increased. And with that… Lance can’t exactly point the time when he developed this crush. Maybe it happened when Fernando asked in the middle of the meeting: ‘And you? What do you think, Lance?’ and stared at him like his opinion mattered. Or maybe it happened during their late-night talks, when Fernando would come over to Lance who was hunched on his chair, frantically finalizing his report, with a coffee in hand, asking softly if he needed any help. Fernando was never Lance’s mentor (that role went to Mark), but he somehow always made sure Lance knew for a fact that he’d support him and back him up in anything. From an unreachable big boss in two years Fernando turned into a constant presence by his side – never overwhelming, only supporting. And Lance is not strong enough to resist the pull of his heart, crush developed against his will, and he fell hard. There were times when Lance thought that his feelings might be reciprocated – he knew Fernando didn’t really engage with anyone other high-level seniors and yet he always made time for Lance, a simple mid-level employee. He felt Fernando’s intense gaze at him too many times, but nothing followed this, no action and… well. Lance is not stupid. If Fernando wanted him, he’d show, he’d do something; men like Fernando never hesitate. Realizing this crushed his hopes and he thought it hurt then, but the way it hurts now is incomparable. Wrapped in the scarf that is most likely gifted from Mark and not from Fernando, Lance feels sluggish and downright miserable, not wanting to see what waits for him on the fifth day. Now that he is pretty sure that it’s Mark, these presents have no meaning, zero excitement – it’s a pity and sad. He doesn’t even try to look happy in front of Esteban, who is leaning on the wall next to his desk, waiting for him.

‘Coffee and brand-new notebook,’ Esteban announces. He looks at his friend and frowns, stepping closer. ‘What is it? You look shitty.’

Lance scoffs at this. He regards the new notebook with disdain, and it pains him to admit how actually nice it looks. He finished his old one yesterday on the meeting, receiving many chuckles on how ‘hardworking’ he is; part of him expected this gift.

‘Mark has always been very attentive.’ Esteban comments, handing Lance his coffee. ‘But to be honest I am surprised; he doesn’t look like someone who has balls to start flirting with someone right at work. Especially with him being the big boss and all that jazz.’

Lance hates how Esteban is sure that Mark is his secret admirer and hates how much sense it makes. Mark is the one who spends most time with Lance at work, Mark is attentive, Mark is- not Fernando. Lance looks at the coffee and feels that he’s going to throw up. Mark is not Fernando, and these presents are not from Fernando and Lance now has a fucking CFO courting him. Oh, he is going to throw up. Barely swallowing, Lance puts coffee cup back on the desk and rushes towards the bathrooms still in his coat and all. He didn’t have breakfast, but he swears he is going to vomit-

‘Whoa, careful,’ strong hands catch him when he collides with someone at the turn. Lance blinks, looks up and freezes at the sight of one and only, Fernando Alonso. COO of their company first smiles at him and then frowns, catching wild look on Lance’s face. ‘Lance? Is everything okay?’

Lance forces his mind to restart. ‘Uh- yeah, yeah. Just um. Bathroom. Yeah.’

Fernando looks unconvinced but then his gaze drops to the scarf wrapped around Lance’s neck. Something passes on his face and his eyes stay locked on the scarf so intently that Lance momentarily forgets about his churning stomach and instead also looks down – did he manage to leave a stain there? He’s about to ask this, when Fernando’s hand moves from his forearm and gently touches the scarf, smiling softly. ‘You like it?’ He asks in that smooth voice of his that never fails to make Lance’s heart beat a bit faster.

‘I do,’ Lance replies sincerely. Even if it’s from Mark, he still likes it.

Fernando nods, looking pleased. His hand drops and he takes a step back, regarding Lance with a fond look that makes him warm all over. ‘Good. It suits you very well.’

Lance is lucky enough to be at the receiving end of many, many compliments throughout his life but this one makes his cheeks burn. It’s ridiculous. ‘Thank you.’

He manages not to combust in the bathroom and stays sane throughout the whole day until him and Este enter the meeting room for the short project timings check and Mark is there, looking grim as death itself. He smiles at both of them tiredly and only smiles when he notices Lance’s new notebook. Esteban, of course, notices this and nudges Lance briefly with a knowing gleam in his eyes before quickly starting to present his updates. He’s out once he’s done and Lance feels dread settling in him, once he realizes that he’s left alone with Mark. Under normal circumstances he’d absolutely fine with this, but now he’s uncomfortable and full of desire to get out of here. Mark smiles warmly at him, gesturing to start. Lance tries his best not to make any eye contact and gives his updates in a curt manner, squeezing his legs together to stop them from shaking.

‘Thank you, Lance. Very clear, as always.’ Mark praises and then his phone pings with incoming message. He looks at it and his eyes first grow wider and then he squints at the screen like it personally offended him. He quickly looks up at Lance and then back at the screen before sighing so deeply that Lance for a second fears for his own life. ‘Um. Lance. I have a question.’

Lance tenses up. God, please no. ‘About?’

Mark looks very uncomfortable, and it only unsettles Lance even more. ‘Do you…’ Mark starts and then coughs like any word out hurts him. ‘Fuck- I mean, sorry, sorry for the cursing.’ Mark shakes his head, glancing briefly at his phone before turning back to Lance. ‘Do you have plans for tomorrow?’

Lance hopes the ground will break and swallow him whole. ‘Why?’ He croaks out, hoping his voice doesn’t betray how he feels.

Mark grimaces like he’s eating a lemon. ‘Tomorrow is a big day, no?’ Seeing Lance’s confusion, he elaborates: ‘It’s Valentine’s Day tomorrow.’

Oh. Oh. Lance’s pretty sure all colors drown out from his face. Now it all makes sense – all these gifts and this question. Everything was leading up to this, to Valentine’s Day. His heart is at his throat with how nervous he is at this realization – Mark is about to ask him out. For Valentine’s Day. Lance fears that this time he actually might throw up for real. Before he can come up with something along the lines of ‘this is a rather personal question’, Mark saves him by groaning loudly and hiding his face in his hands. He groans something about being friends with an idiot and Lance has an inkling that he is watching his boss lose his mind right in front of him.

‘I’m sorry, Lance, god, I’m sorry.’ Mark sounds sincere as he looks at him. ‘I’m just cursed for being friends with an idiot. Forget I asked that. I- just- let me rephrase it, yeah? Don’t freak out, please.’

It’s kind of too late for that, but Lance nods. He trusts Mark – after five years working together, he likes to think that he knows his boss well; Mark will never do anything to hurt him. He nods, showing Mark that he can go on. CFO chews on his bottom lip for a few moments before finally settling on: ‘What would you like on Valentine’s Day? To do, to get as a present. I’m asking for a friend.’

A friend. Lance knows it’s a lie, but he pretends to be unaware of this and breathes out, calming himself. He can do this. He’s a mature adult, he can answer the question and then rush back home and forget this ever happened. ‘Flowers,’ he responses, hoping he sounds friendly enough. ‘I think flowers are very nice.’

Mark solemnly nods, listening to him attentively like Lance is telling him something related to work. ‘Flowers, got it. Anything else?’

Lance shrugs. He thinks of what he’d like to receive and doesn’t even stop himself from imagining Fernando giving it all to him. With a dreamy small smile on his face, Lance adds: ‘I would love to receive some jewelry piece. Something unique, maybe. With a special engraving, something very personal.’ He blinks out of his reverie, blushing a little. ‘Um, yeah.’

Mark watches him for a while and then smiles, leaning back. ‘Thank you, Lance. Sorry for keeping you – thanks for the updates. See you tomorrow.’

Lance nods and does what he wanted to do the same second he entered this room – he gets out of it with a relieved sigh.

Four.

It’s a bit sad how life gets so hectic that Valentine’s Day would’ve gone completely unnoticed by Lance if not for yesterday's talk with Mark. He dreads going to work today, but they do not have flexible working hours and Lance drags himself out of bed with reluctance that can rival Esteban’s hatred for Pierre. Despite everything Lance does his best in cleaning up for today, knowing that he has two separate sessions with senior management (and yes, one of them is with Fernando) and comes to the office a bit later than usual but with combed hair and a nice suit. Esteban whistles at the sight of him once he enters, wiggling his eyebrows suggestively: ‘Excited for the secret admirer reveal?’

Lance rolls his eyes, taking off his coat. ‘Excited for two sessions with leaders. It’s the first time I’ll talk to Oliver.’

Esteban steps closer, sliding his arm easily around Lance’s waist with a wide smile on his face. ‘You’re getting that promotion, mon ami. Don’t worry about it. You know that no one meets Ollie unless it’s about promotions.’

Lance tries not to let negative thoughts win; logically, he knows Esteban is right. When Mark first commented that Oliver wanted to speak with him, Lance almost spilled coffee on himself and Mark only smiled softly and told him that he had nothing to worry about. Lance is not sure that meeting CEO of the company for the first time in a 1-1 meeting is a casual affair, but he is not going to mess it up by being a jumble of nerves. ‘Fingers crossed.’

Esteban squeezes him in a tight hug before letting go. ‘You deserve it more than anyone else, Lance. Just like you deserve some rich man showering you with gifts.’

‘Oh fucking hell,’ Lance mutters, ignoring loud cackle of his friend. They both move towards their places, and he notes with a sigh of relief that there’s nothing on his desk. ‘See? Nothing.’

Esteban looks surprised and almost disappointed by the whole ordeal. He even checks under the desk, coming back up with a pout. ‘Weird. It’s Valentine’s! If you’re free tonight then lets go to the new Marvel movie?’ At Lance’s raised eyebrow, he elaborates: ‘I assumed you’d have a date tonight, so I didn’t ask, but..’

‘Lets go,’ Lance easily agrees.

Not having a gift from Mark on the desk instantly lightened up his mood. The first half of the day passes quickly, and his mood elevates even more when Henry lets him know that Mark won’t come today. His hope that maybe it’s not Mark behind all of his presents reignites, but it’s all forgotten when he finally meets Oliver face to face. It’s hard to describe the crushing disappointment he feels, when he realizes that this talk is not about promotion; Oliver kindly asks Lance to cover Marta’s role, who will be leaving soon on her maternity leave. While Oliver explains the full reimbursement package, Lance focuses on dealing with a tight knot in his chest that refuses to let him breathe properly. Even genuine compliments from CEO do not help with the overwhelming weight on his chest; Lance’s face doesn’t a single emotion by a sheer power of will. He manages a tight-lipped smile at the end, promising to give his answer by the end of next week. He exists on shaky legs, trying to calm himself down with breathing techniques. This is nothing, he knows. This is such a small thing to get upset about, he knows. But the hope he had had never been crushed this cruelly, Lance leans on the wall for support. The promotion served as the best motivation for the whole year and now that it’s taken away, he feels stripped bare of everything no matter how dramatic it sounds. Groaning in frustration at his own emotional turbulence Lance scrubs furiously at his face, moving away from the corridor to the lavatories side. Stupid, stupid, stupid. He should’ve known. He should’ve known that promotion is not in line for him despite all the efforts. He should’ve worked harder. He should’ve tried better, he should’ve-

‘Lance?’

Lance is not going to cry. He blinks and comes back to reality, facing Fernando. His warm hands as always are on his forearms, his chocolate orbs are gazing at him with unhidden worry. Lance opens his mouth to say something, anything, but what comes off is a choked whimper. Embarrassment coils hot in his stomach and he’s ready to apologize and move on but those words die on his tongue as Fernando grips the back of his neck strongly but lovingly, forcing Lance to lean closer.

‘Lancito,’ Fernando breathes out, frown etched deep on his forehead. ‘What’s wrong? Tell me.’

Lance is not going to cry. His throat constricts with unspoken words, but his pride is stronger, so he shakes his head, taking a deep breath. The affectionate Lancito colors his cheeks and without meaning to, his gaze drops to Fernando’s mouth before he looks away. ‘Nothing,’ Lance mutters, clearing his throat. He doesn’t want to be snappy with Fernando, but he can’t bear anyone seeing him in this state. ‘I’m fine, I-‘

The way Fernando’s grip tightens up on his neck shuts him up. Fernando’s eyes are looking into his soul and Lance lets Fernando see all the despair he’s feeling – his walls crumble in front of this man. ‘Come,’ Fernando says and it clearly is an order, not a request. ‘Come with me, Lance.’

Lance has a feeling that the world in which he stays strong and says ‘no’ to Fernando simply doesn’t exist. He follows him, trying to regulate his emotions but when they enter Fernando’s own room and the door closes behind him, Lance has to clench his hands into fists and bite his lower lip hard to prevent himself from crying. Fernando locks the door and gently guides Lance to the plush sofa, sitting him down like a child. Lance supposes he is a child with how he’s overreacting, and this thought sends him into the spiral of shame.

‘What is it, Lance?’ Fernando asks softly, gingerly reaching out and uncurling his hands. He carefully takes them into his and slow swipe of his thumb over Lance’s wrist makes him a bit crazy. ‘What happened? You were with Oliver, no? Did he upset you? Is this about your promotion?’

Lance freezes. God, of course Fernando knows. He is a member of director board, he is Mark’s closest friend, of course he knows about Lance and promotion. Hot shame rushes through his body and Lance swallows. Does Fernando find him stupid? Childish for being upset over this? Incompetent? Lance will fucking change companies, he swears. ‘Yes,’ he breathes out because there’s no point in lying. ‘It’s just- a lot.’

Fernando nods in understanding. He lets go of his hand and Lance supposes that this is it, he’s going to get thrown out, when the same hand gently brushes away teardrops from his cheek. The action stuns him into silence, renders him immobile – Lance blinks stupidly, looking up at Fernando. The expression older man wears is… Lance doesn’t dare to hope. That’s not how one looks at a co-worker. That’s not how one looks at a co-worker for who he doesn’t have any feelings for.

‘Everyone acknowledges your contribution to the team, Lance. We believe-‘

‘Don’t give me that,’ Lance hastily cuts him off. The last thing he wants to hear right now is a lame excuse. ‘I don’t- I don’t want to hear it.’

Fernando doesn’t seem to be shaken with how brazen Lance acted, he simply nods and drops his hand from Lance’s face, covering his knee with it instead. They sit in a silence for a while, which lets Lance finally get his emotions under control. He lets them simmer in the background, coming back down as a tidal wave. Fernando doesn’t rush him, just holds his hands and his caresses calm Lance down more than he cares to admit. It’s almost disturbingly comfortable to stay like this with Fernando, he realizes. To have this man sit close to him, to have him hold his hands, have his attention – it’s addicting. Lance doesn’t miss how Fernando stares at their joined hands lovingly, almost wistfully, with a small smile on his face. Could it be that he’s also picturing them holding hands outside of the office? Could it be that in his dreams he sees Lance next to him, walking side by side? Hope is such a scary thing; after one disappointment, bearing another one almost immediately is too harsh for Lance.

‘Okay,’ Fernando finally says, noting how Lance looks much more relaxed. ‘If you don’t want to hear anything about the promotion then perhaps, you’d like to hear about your final present, then?’

‘What?’ Lance asks, confused. ‘Final present?’

Fernando nods and moves to stand up. Lance, in an anxious spur, tightens his hold on their hands before realizing what he’s doing and letting Fernando’s hands go like he’s burned. With red cheeks, he glances at the COO of the company, who only chuckles softly and taps twice on Lance’s knee. ‘I’ll be right back.’

Lance nods, too afraid to speak up. God, what was that? Why did he just- his train of thoughts stops at the sight of the bouquet that Fernando pulls out somewhere from behind the desk. Red roses, at least thirty of them, glare at Lance mockingly, stunning him. Wrapped in a crafted paper, their smell wafts in the air, reminding him suddenly that it’s Valentine’s. It’s Valentine’s Day today and Fernando bought someone roses. Lance’s throat suddenly is drier than any desert. His heart falls somewhere down, down, down –

‘Do you like them?’ Fernando asks, coming closer.

Lance, in fact, hates them. Also irrationally hates whoever these flowers are meant for. ‘They are very beautiful,’ he answers dutifully in a shaky voice. The worst thing is that they are beautiful, goddammit. And because jealousy is an ugly green monster that apparently leaves in his heart, he can’t stop himself from asking: ‘For who?’

Flowers are moved out of his sight and instead he sees Fernando’s amused expression. ‘For who?’ He repeats, eyes twinkling with mirth. ‘For who do you think, Lance?’

This is pure torture. Lance doesn’t want to think of any other love interest Fernando might have, he can’t bear imagining someone else on the receiving end of this. God, why can’t it be him? When will luck be on his side? ‘For your partner, I presume.’

Fernando quirks an eyebrow. ‘Not yet. But hopefully, yes.’ He looks at the flowers and then back at Lance. ‘Do you think this would sway them in the right direction? Make them say ‘yes’ to me, maybe?’

How can anyone say ‘no’ to Fernando? Lance bites the inside of his cheek to keep his expression in check and not show how devastated he is. He looks at the flowers and just the image of Fernando giving them to someone precious, someone he regards highly, someone like him – ‘Mhm, yes. I think so, yes.’

Fernando’s face breaks into a breathtaking smile. He hands the bouquet to Lance, never breaking their eye contact. ‘Then is it a ‘yes’, Lance? From you?’

Hope is such a scary thing. Lance can feel it bloom full force in his chest, making his heart beat twice as fast. His fingers tremble as he carefully reaches out, afraid that Fernando might pull back and call this all a joke. But man of his dreams stands steady and only watches Lance with unhidden adoration. Fernando looks at Lance like he might grab him the moon if he asks for it – it kind of drives Lance wild.

‘Happy Valentine’s Day, Lance.’ Fernando says softly, not moving. He keeps a respectable distance, watching as Lance’s entire face brightens when he sniffs the flowers. ‘Hope you liked the flowers.’

‘They are beautiful,’ Lance whispers, holding them gently. The reality is not fully registered in his brain, so he doesn’t look up at Fernando. ‘Very pretty.’

‘Not as pretty as you,’ Fernando instantly says and it doesn’t sound cringy at all when his voice is filled with sincerity that echoes back in Lance’s heart. ‘Did you like all other presents?’

At this Lance looks up. With wide eyes, he gasps: ‘It was you?’

Fernando blinks. ‘Yes?’

‘I thought they were from Mark Webber.’ Lance admits and now it’s Fernando’s turn to go wide-eyed.

‘Wha- no! Mark was helping me with presents, that’s all. I wanted it all to be secret, so I asked Mark to learn what you like and etc.’ Fernando frowns: ‘Did you want them to be from Mark?’

‘No!’ Lance yells out probably louder than needed. Suddenly all Mark’s weird behavior makes sense in Lance’s head: all the looking at his phone, eyes rolling, general ‘I am tired of this bullshit’ face. ‘No, no, I wanted them to be from you!’

Ah. Lance knows he confessed too much, when Fernando’s frown melts into a cheshire grin. He looks too smug and Lance hates how all he wants to do is just kiss that smirk off his face. ‘You wanted them to be from me?’ Fernando steps closer, finally breaching the distance between them. ‘Good.’

Lance doesn’t dare to breathe. He clenches crafted paper between his fingers, licking his lips nervously. Fernando’s eyes follow the movement, and he leans just a tad bit closer, enough for Lance’s heart to break the ribcage and fall into his arms. ‘Why?’ Lance asks breathlessly.

Fernando meets his eyes and smile so fondly that Lance has a hard time standing still. His hand is back on Lance’s face, this time cupping it gently, eyes shining bright with affection. ‘Why? How can I not, Lance?’ Fernando’s hushed voice brushes over him like a soothing balm. ‘Have you seen yourself? You’re so good, Lance, too good. I wanted to do this for a long time.’

‘Give me presents?’

Fernando chuckles. ‘That as well. But mostly this, being able to touch you like this.’ His thumb strokes tender skin under Lance’s eye. ‘I was scared at first. But then I thought if not now then when? I don’t want to leave this place and I don’t want you to leave it. Corporate politics are important, of course, but…’ Fernando takes Lance’s hand and brings it to his mouth, kissing his knuckles. ‘But you and me, and what we might have – nothing is more important than that.’

If Fernando is not going to stop then Lance will do something extremely reckless. Like kiss him senseless and drop on his knees or ask him to marry him. Taking a deep breath, he wills himself to be normal about this man at least for one fucking second. ‘Fernando,’ he calls. ‘I- I don’t know what to say. Thank you so much for the gifts. I loved every single one of them.’

‘There’s one more.’ Fernando smiles at the way Lance instantly perks up at this. A beautiful silver bracelet with 'F' letter and en emerald pendant. It would look so pretty on Lance. ‘But you will get it only if you go out with me tonight. For dinner.’

Lance gulps. He doesn’t want to assume, but- ‘Dinner on the Valentine’s Day? Is this a date?’

Fernando looks at the bouquet in his hands and then back at him. ‘I’d hope so, yes. Or do you have just friends who send you bouquets on this day and ask you out?’

It’s meant as a joke, obviously, but there’s something underneath it. A tiny spark of possessiveness that has Lance shivering in delight. ‘A date, then.’

Fernando smiles at him with eyes full of love. ‘A date. We’ll go straight from work if you don’t mind.’

Lance shakes his head. ‘I don’t mind.’

Fernando looks at him with such a pleased smile that Lance can’t help but giggle a little, ducking his head down shyly. Fernando’s hands move to his waist, squeezing gently but firmly. He leans in slightly, brushing their noses together. Lance’s breath hitches. Could it be..?

‘Later,’ Fernando promises.

Lance gulps. With his eyes trained on Fernando’s lips, he clarifies: ‘Tonight?’

‘Tonight.’

Lance nods. He lets himself bask I the closeness for few more moments before slowly extracting himself from Fernando’s grip. Holding flowers close, he moves to the door, smiling at the feeling of a warm hand on his back. He turns – he can’t not turn, not glance one more time – Fernando meets his gaze with adoration mirrored back to him. Only it’s there tenfold, mixed with fondness and something hot – Lance can’t really be blamed for his self-control fraying. He turns fully and boldly brings their mouths together, moaning appreciatively when Fernando instantly kisses him back with so much fervor that it steals his breath away. This kiss is everything Lance ever wanted: it makes his knees weak, melts his heart, turns him into a maniac with how much he doesn’t want this to ever stop. Fernando kisses him like he’s making a point, proving something, claiming – Lance kisses back like he won’t ever let go, like he wants to blend them into one.

‘Precioso,’ Fernando mutters, when Lance pulls back with a gasp. He leans in, peppering his face with kisses. ‘Ah, Lance. The things you make me do.’

Lance giggles – a tiny, happy sound that makes Fernando smile affectionately. ‘I’ll see you at dinner,’ he whispers, licking his lips once more just to be a tease. ‘Bye, Fernando.’

‘See you,’ Fernando echoes, eyes blazing with heat that makes Lance want to forget about the work and just stay here forever.

Lance closes the door behind him and takes a deep breath. It’s Fernando. His secret admirer, the one responsible for all the gifts. It’s Fernando, Lance’s crush. Lance takes a steadying breath and clutches the flowers closer to his chest. Yes, he may have lost the promotion, but it feels like he won something much, much bigger in the end.

#strollonso #lance stroll imagine #lance stroll #fernando alonso #fernando alonso imagine #fernando alonso x lance stroll #formula 1 imagine #formula 1 #aston martin f1 #f1 imagine #f1 fic #f1 fluff #formula 1 fic #formula 1 fluff #HAPPY VALENTINE’S DAY YAY

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luzyuvu · 2 days ago

Text

Amphoreus worse romcom. Ch 1.

Thinking about Anaxa.

First time writing in a long time! Also I did this because I couldn't sleep, tell me if is trash, thank you and maybe should I do a part 2?

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Everyone knows how Anaxa is. Logical, calculative, rational.

Just even thinking about it is redundant. Extremely. Maybe to an offensive extent. And you know it, he knows you do, and even if you didn't he would still treat you like anybody else. Because you are. A random girl that somehow and some way got involved with the Chrysos heirs, by mere chance, luck, or like you like to call it, destiny.

One thing let to another and you two regularly talk, mostly because of how people use you as a messenger when it comes to tell things to Anaxa. You are easy going, quiet, and don't get offended easily. Or at least, you don't seem to show it when it comes to him. Silently dealing with his judging gazes and all the list of reasons why people don't like him in the first place.

You don't mind. Well, maybe you do. It's not like you liked having to deal with someone like him, but you felt bad for the people who asked you to talk with him for them, so you would do them the favor.

After so many times and talks, you tried to get closer. Key word, tried, but it always ends with uncomfortable silences, cold words, emotionless or in best case, judgmental gazes... It's not like you didn't try, you did. Kind words, patience, even trying to crack a joke, but after you tried the latter a few times, only to receive the most awkward silence you ever had, you gave up. It's not like you wanted to, but you weren't dumb. You can't beg someone to befriend you, you just can't. That's why, if Anaxa doesn't like you, you won't push it any further. There's more people in the world, after all.

Anaxa didn't think much about, too focused on his own research and problems. Something someone like you couldn't understand, so he thought.

You don't know how much you treasure something until you lose it, typical, so typical he wants to puke.

He doesn't mind when you start to slowly make more distance, somehow even more than there already was, he tells himself. He curses the humanity on his heart, and he also curses the destiny for making him feel this way.

It's so cliche, so, so cliche it feels disgusting. Is this the karma for all the times he dissmised this kind of behavior? For how brutally he rejected this part of himself and everybody else? He doesn't believe in karma, but this is what comes to his mind right now.

He doesn't understand why he feels this way, and the more he thinks about it, the more reasons pop up of why he does feel this way. Much to his disgust.

Was the way you looked at him? With so much patience and kindness even with his sharp tone and glares?

Maybe how much he got used to you after seeing you over and over for such a long time? The possibilities are endless, and the more he finds, the more he gets angry at himself.

Soon enough, his mind start to wonder, and he thinks of the endless ways he could lose you.

You are a hopeless romantic, he knows it, it's probably one if the first things he noticed. How you daydream about finding the perfect husband, about a romance out of the most cheesiest fairytales that could ever be made, how you fell in love with this fictional characters, dreaming about how happy would you be with them, about finding your knight in shining armor, how you seem to have a new crush every now and then...

It makes him feel sick. Because as soon as he thinks about it, his mind starts to wander.

Aglaea is out of the list of people you would date. She is your idol, your goddess. The way you look at her reminds him of a young child looking at their hero, their patents. With so much admiration and care, as if they were the most perfect and incredible person in the world.

You had looked at him with admiration in your eyes, but it never matched the way you did when it came to her. And it makes his fists clench.

Castorice is out too, she is your best friend, your sworn sister. So much, people often find themselves mistaking you for real sisters. Even when you don't share blood or the same physical features like biological ones do, the bond you have and the way you know each other is undeniable. You even sew, with Aglaea's help, clothes and another accessories to match her in special occasions, or maybe when you feel like. You even have a matching bracelet that you never take off. The only day you lost it, he never saw you sadder, and when you found it, he never saw you happier.

He is not as special as Castorice is to you, not even remotely, will he ever be?

Phainon... He is a particular case. He is kind and the perfect man, in the eyes of the people. The man of your dreams. Only thinking it makes him sick. But he has a lot secrets behind his kind and charming smile. Things no one knows, hiding his own loneliness and revenge. He doesn't think Phainon has in mind love and relationships right now, or if he is willing to expose the secrets he so much dearly keeps to himself.

Anaxa feels relief.

But then... Mydei. He is probably the one you'd least be into a relationship... at first glance. He doesn't have the most approachable personality, and is in general more grumpy and angry than Anaxa. But, he has something Anaxa doesn't, a softer side that can be seen if you reed between the lines and pay enough attention. Something Anaxagoras never showed you, something your sharp eye could notice, and you definitely did.

That's why you were closer to Mydei than you were with him. You are not best friends like you are with Castorice, don't see him as a god like you did with Aglaea, nor appreciate him the way you do with Phainon, but you are in good terms. Anaxa also knows that his softer side defenetly gained a special spot in your heart.

He also noticed the sneaky glances, according to you, that you couldn't help but give Mydei. Sometimes to his chest, others to his arms and others to his back. You were at least a little attracted to him, it was obvious. But now is when Anaxa cares.

You were also aware that he trained kids, and that he had a sweet tooth, it makes you more drawn to him that you ever were to Anaxa, and now, he never felt more jealous.

As he thought about it, his mind started to think more and more about you and Mydei.

It would certainly be difficult and a slow burn but, what if Mydei developed feelings for you? What if you also had a crush on him? The scenario starts to develop.

Out of the two of you, Mydei would h ave to do the first move, you are shy, and probably wouldn't notice Mydei's affection. In this hypothetical case, unless Mydei properly decided to court you. Then, it would be over.

He can see it so clearly, the two of you, slowly getting closer and closer. How even with Mydei's straightforward nature, he would definitely conquer your heart, like he did many battles. How he could hold your smaller frame so easily, how you would burry your face in the chest you already like so much, hearing his heartbeat, looking for comfort in his warmth. How even if he is a warrior, he would hold you with such tenderness, look at you with so much passion. His love would definitely out burn the sun, and consume you until yours burn as bright as his.

You would be his queen, and him, your king and world.

He doesn't know what love is, but he knows what it's heartbreak.

He thinks of another possibility, and then, his thoughts go back to Phainon.

If you somehow got Phainon to open up, and he decided to be genuine with you... As he thinks about it, Anaxa notices, if thinking about you and Mydei was a slow torture, like a knife in his stomach, slowly sinking in and twisting as he gets more and more immersed, then, thinking about you and Phainon it's like and entire mountain fell over him.

The thought disgusts him.

At least, Mydei is kind of like him, and the possibilities of him falling in love with you and actually doing something are low, so low it makes Anaxa feel better, but if Phainon were to do so... By the time Anaxa tried to reach you, you'd already be in Phainon's arms, whispering sweet nothings into each other's ears and kissing in a way only in dreams could ever happen.

He is helpless.

Phainon is perfect, so perfect it's insulting. He got everything, the appearance, the personality... All Anaxa doesn't have, all that you love and ever could dream of. He is a knight in shining armor, a prince, a golden retriever kind of guy, he can't compare.

You'd be so perfect for each other, like a match made in heaven. You are so sweet, so caring, yet with a little twist of sassynes and dark humor. If you ended together, he knows people would think how lucky you would be for being with Phainon, Okhema's hero. But all Anaxa can think is how lucky Phainon would be for being the one who has you, and it offends him how people wouldn't see it, even if it's in front of their faces.

He can even picture a wedding, how beautiful you'd be, in a dress made by Aglaea herself, with Castorice as your maid of honor and Tribios giving you your rings.

He wouldn't even bother to attend it, as much as he doesn't even bother to imagine how Phainon would propose you, it would be as disgustingly sweet as this what if wedding he is imaging right now. And if somehow someone, Aglaea, got him to go to the wedding, he would be sitting in the very end, watching with a gaze that could kill, never leaving Phainon's frame.

He wishes his mind stopped there, but he imagined how he could lose you to every one else and every single person in Okhema, because love is a war where everyone is your enemy.

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Phainon noticed how someone was watching him, it was not like the usual gazes he receives when he is walking around or saving someone. No. This one is deadly, and sinister in a way that makes his whole body shiver. He wonders if he did anything to get Anaxa so angry, he never saw him this way, not even with the people he despises. But he chooses to ignore it, even when your happy face can't eliminate completely the hole that Anaxa's eye is leaving on the back of his head.

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Mydei has to resist the urge to comfort Anaxa right there and then. It's getting annoying, but he knows you don't like fights and that you'd rather not have to interact with Anaxa if not needed, at least recently. He respects your decision, not asking why or if anything happened between you two. Instead, he just rolls his eyes and enjoys the sweets you baked. It was a new recipe you were trying and you thought he was a good test subject, it's not like he was going to die or get sick if it was bad anyway.

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Aglaea is aware of the way Anaxa is behaving, it's painfully obvious, at least for someone with the Titan of romance's coreflame. Besides, the others already told her that Anaxa was acting weird and his sharp gazes were more deadly than usual, specially since you started recently to avoid favors to talk to him in behalf of other people.

Maybe he could use a little of help to conquer his beloved, even if he wouldn't admit it.

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Anaxa is not having it.

It's not like he is surprised that Aglaea herself noticed, he would actually be surprised if she didn't. But at the same time, he doesn't like when people get into his business, especially as personal as... Whatever is this.

He reluctantly listens to her, he still hates the idea of help or even recognize his problem, even in his mind, but he can't help to be slightly curious. He curses his curiosity.

Aglaea really cares about you, more than he thought. It kind of annoys him. She cares so much, that knowing your dream is to get married and have a family, besides your own carrier, of course, she personally would help out into getting the relationship you so much desire.

You are so shy and coward, and also, so oblivious, most people would give up trying to court you. And that gives him relief. A part of himself wants you to stay single for him. And realizing this makes him want to shoot himself with his gun. If he doesn't have you, it's fine, as long as no one else does.

He is possessive, he is jealous and selfish. You don't want a lover to own you, you want one to take care of you and cherish you. It makes him feel guilty of his own feelings, he notices. He feels stupid, he doesn't know if it's because of having the feeling in the first place, or because how much he cares about you in this moment.

Love is stupid.

He just admitted he loves you for the first time.

He never felt dummer.

At half of Aglaea's speech his mind starts to wander again.

In the hypothetical case you could fall in love with Aglaea and she was also in love with you, he doesn't know if it would be worse than trying to fight with Phainon for your affection.

She is mature, elegant and romantic, she has the coreflame of romance for a reason. He imagines, she would make you fell in love with her in such a perfect way, it would be slow, caring and breathtaking, such as herself. He stops himself halfway through, thinking of how superior she would be compared to him in terms of courting you it's humiliating and it feels pathetic.

And she notices his jealousy and tries to talk about it.

Even Castorice crosses his mind as they speak, and thinking of how pure your love for each other already is without being it romantic makes it even worse thinking how much you'd love each other if you were lovers.

So, he decides to indulge Aglaea. Because he wants to love you, and make you love him. And if for that he has to change and follow Aglaea's guidance to gain your heart so it be.

Even though he cringes a little of how cheesy it sounded on his head.

#hsr x reader #anaxa x reader #hsr imagines #hsr anaxa #x reader

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