#man you're so right I know why I love you so much

[suiana]

yandere! golden boy who is your loving boyfriend and... surprisingly loves listening to you talk about your interests! yes darling, talk about your games and novels and silly plushies! he loves seeing how interested you can get about things you're passionate about and it just makes him feel so warm on the inside.

you might even go as far to say he ENCOURAGES your interests. buying you plushies, taking you to exhibitions/places you want... you don't even have to ask, just one look with your eyes and he's taking out his card. yeah, it doesn't matter if you have an unhealthy attachment to that fat cat pusheen or whatever. you seem to really like it so he's buying that 400 dollar plushie for you.

on the same note... he can't help but get jealous when you're gushing over attractive fictional characters. SPECIFICALLY that ONE dude that you seem to have EVERYWHERE. on the wall, on your phone cover, lock screen, profile picture, fuck, even on your bed as a plushie! and all he gets is a meager nickname on his contact?!

"sweetie, must you... really have all these... THINGs of HIM?"

"he's my first husband, you're my second. of course i have merch of him. plus I'm not gonna just throw all these away, i spent big money on these ya know 💀"

he knows it's petty! he knows that it's just a fictional character and that he shouldn't be jealous but dude! you don't even have him in your wallet! it's that freaking guy!

so he does what evey sane boyfriend does and replaces some (not all just some!) of your merchandise with pictures of him and you. how adorable, right?

no.

"bro where is the portrait of my MAN🤬🤬🤬"

"i replaced it with a nice picture of us together darling☺️ look at how cute-"

oh. and you...you just put another photo of that guy again... oh... and you're ranting on reddit/instagram about how he's being mean... you also removed him from your close friends list... oh you... you also decided to kick him off the bed and onto the sofa... oh...

well no biggie! he has lots of patience and he will sneak in his presence into your stuff. he's determined.

"best friend I'm going to need you to cosplay as my favorite character please ☺️"

damn!

why didn't he think of that sooner? if you can't win the normal way, you should do it another way, right? he can just get you to see how much better he is and you'll eventually replace that fictional man for HIM!

...

yeah, that didn't work out as planned. now you're even more in love with that character and you're asking him to cosplay every other day. erm... at least.. your wallpaper is a picture of him cosplaying the character??? he'll take what he can get.

"lol best friend, did you see that video i sent you. it's so stupid."

"for the last time, sweetie. we're dating, call me boyfriend. and which one? I can't watch every single one of the 99+ reels you send me."

"a real best friend would watch them all..."

being with you has singlehandedly changed this man. for the worse or for the better, he doesn't know. but what he does know is that you DON'T know how to dress.

"sweetie, no. you can't just go out in a shirt and shorts! you look like adam sandler!"

"clothes are clothes 🤬"

at least he has a fun time dressing you up. you're like, his cute little rat! his very own personal dress up rat! oh how he wants to just keep you in his pocket and pick out pretty clothes for you, making you look like the cutest thing ever! sure you might take them off and just wear what you want but... at least he's got the photos and the sight of you in a pretty outfit ingrained into the folds of his brain already ☺️ and he'll take every chance he can get to put you into another pretty outfit again. that i assure you.

he... has ALSO found out that you are living on instant noodles, sandwiches, and the occasional takeout. you don't even open the curtains! how can you see in such a dark home? and why are you sleeping until midday?! dear oh dear. you really are a rat, huh?

"darling get up! it's 12 in the afternoon already!"

"i slept at 3 just let me sleep more..."

that simply won't do. he will not be allowing you to lead such a horrid lifestyle! not if he can help it! especially because... well, he's also your boss. from part 1, remember! yeah, you guys didn't break up at the end haha! you were just joking, obviously! not like you'll ever be able to break up. it's in the contract, silly.

"come on, get up. you need to have a healthy lifestyle. I've already gotten my personal chef to cook up a healthy meal for you."

"who's gonna stop me from living like this? you? 😂😂😂"

"yes, me. in our contract, remember? i will be responsible for your health from now till we die."

don't worry. he'll be by your side every step of the way. and hey, who knows? maybe you can even teach him a thing or two about gaming or something else you like! he's open to learning about the things you like.

and he won't even have to worry about you finding another REAL person to like because... well, let's just say you don't even like going out for dinner. we'll keep it at that ☺️

[filthygalli]

When I met you: Chapter 1 “Package”

Fem! Reader x Neighbor! Hwang In-Ho

Main Master list

Squid Game Master list

Genre/Tags: Grumpy x Sunshine, Light smut, Fluff, Angst, Slow burn, Age gap (Reader is in her early 30’s, While In-Ho is in his late 40’s.) Rude In-Ho (but will eventually be soft with the reader Soon!) Literature Professor! In-Ho (Not specified what kind of literature) More Tags to come soon!

Warnings: Rude In-Ho, Some mild cursing, In-Ho’s stubborn cat Lmao, Not proof read so please bear with me.

Word Count: 1989

Author's Note: I've been writing this since earlier this morning, I was so intrigued about the song and I can't help but think 'Why not do a fiction story about In-Ho using this song as an inspiration?' then here am I, publishing the first chapter of the said fiction, I'll try to make this a long series! 🖤

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You worked as a graphic designer for some big company, even though you worked from home—you enjoyed what you were doing; you're a person who doesn't like to interact with so many people, except your friends, family, or someone who's close to you.

You've been working as a graphic designer for 3 years. You've gained enough money to buy a house—it's perfect for you, 2 bedrooms with one bathroom each—a cozy living room, kitchen, and a backyard that you turned into a garden. But honestly, it's too much for what you do for a living, but again, you're more than grateful.

You visit your hometown once in a while to spend some time with your parents and friends; you're more than happy to have them support you in the path that you chose. Whenever you visit, your mom always cooks your favorite dishes, while your dad, well…he always teases you about settling down. Honestly, seeing yourself being in a relationship is crazy; you're a busy person, and you're afraid that you might end up with someone who's not fit for your job and likings.

“Sweetheart, it's just…you're too devoted to your job. I know you hate it every time I tell you about this, but there's someone out there for you—who’s going to understand your busy days.” Your dad gave you a comforting look. It's true, you're too devoted to what you're doing, and you can't even go out on a date without making an ‘excuse’ that you're busy and something has come up, but the truth is…you're just afraid. Afraid that no one will love you for being a busy person, and it sucks.

You gave your dad a shy smile. “I know... I just think that it's not the right time; he'll come when the time is right.”

And that's where your grumpy neighbor showed up. He's tall; he looked old and surprisingly handsome for someone his age. He knocked on your door one night. You were reading a book called ‘Inferno' by Dante Alighieri. You're so intrigued by what you're reading that you didn't even hear that someone was knocking at your door. You hurriedly put down your book and ran towards the door. You swung the door open, seeing a middle-aged man who's wearing a black button-up shirt and black chino pants. He pushed up his glasses. 

“Are you deaf or something? I've been knocking since forever.” He annoyingly said, “Good evening to you too.” You said giving him your best fake smile, “I think we switched packages, These aren't mine.” He said, bringing up the two packages in his hand, “Oh…I didn't know–” he cuts you off before even finishing your sentence “of course you don't.” He whispered under his breath, “I'll…I'll go get yours I'll be back in a sec.” You said as you took your package in his hand as you slammed your door shut right at his face.

You sigh as you close the door, feeling embarrassed by your actions. ‘He deserves it,’ you thought. You went to your room and grabbed the unopened package; you checked the name, making sure it's not really yours.

“Hwang In-Ho…” you read the name on the parcel, liking how his name sounds. 

You went downstairs and opened the door, seeing the man leaning against your porch railing. “Thank God, what took you so long?” he groans. He leans forward as he slowly walks towards you; he looks down on you and rudely takes the package from your grasp. You're stunned at his action but manage to say something: “I'm sorry, Mr. Hwang, it won't happen again. Have a good evening.” You said, giving him a shy smile; his eyes softened upon hearing his name. “Right, good evening to you too,” he said as he turned around and walked towards his home.

You noticed his reaction when you said his name; was he expecting you to say it?

Did you catch him off guard? You just chuckled to yourself and closed the door behind you as you walked to your bedroom to continue reading your book.

Meanwhile, In-Ho sat on his couch, staring at the package that he set down on his coffee table, ‘Hwang In-Ho,’ he read in his mind. He scoffed; of course you would know his name; it's written on the damn parcel. He groans as he palms his face, “Fuck,” he grumbles. He quickly gets his mind off of you, on how good your voice sounds saying his name, the way you would give him a shy and innocent glance even though he's being rude to you. He finds it cute. But at the same time, he feels bad—but deep down he doesn't care; you're just another annoying neighbor that would give him nothing but pure hatred. 

The next day

You woke up holding a book in your hand. Great, you fell asleep again. You sigh as you sit up, lightly scratching your eyes as you yawn, making you stretch your arms in the air, groaning in response. You went to the bathroom and took a warm shower, getting ready for today.

In-Ho groans in his sleep, and as his alarm clock goes on, making him reach for his phone to turn it off, he sits up, grabbing his glasses as he goes to the bathroom to brush his teeth. He went to the kitchen to make his morning coffee, a classic Americano. The aroma of the coffee beans filled the air; it made him feel alive. He sighed as he poured his fresh brewed coffee into his mug. 

You went out from the shower, drying yourself off before putting on comfortable shorts and a t-shirt. You went to the kitchen to make your morning coffee. You and In-Ho brew your coffees the same; you both like black coffee. Some may hate it because of the bitter taste, but the difference between you and In-Ho is that In-Ho doesn't put sweetener in his coffee; he just likes pure black coffee, while you… you drink your coffee with 2 tablespoons of sugar in it.

You went outside to sit on the bench on your porch while you drank your coffee as you held your book in your right hand. You like doing this every morning; it's calm and peaceful. Not until In-Ho walks by your house do you watch him walk by; it looks like he just woke up too. He's wearing a dark blue t-shirt and comfortable pants—a pair of loafers too. You can't help but notice how fit he is, how his biceps fit on the sleeve of his shirt, how broad his shoulder is. Before you could think of anything, you snapped yourself out of it as you noticed that he's holding a leash... of a cat? You smiled as you saw In-Ho’s black cat. The fur of his cat is gorgeous. It was unexpected to see In-Ho with a pet cat. After your interaction with him last night, you somewhat thought of him as a person who doesn't care about anyone except himself…and, well, his cat too. 

You didn't notice that you've been looking at In-Ho for a while, he looks at your direction as he adjusts his glasses, god he looks so good with those glasses…you blushed and felt a little embarrassed, you pretend to read and quickly drink your coffee, Meanwhile, In-Ho chuckled at your reaction—He somewhat finds himself admiring you, the way you had your hair into a messy bun, the way your t-shirt hugged all your curves, your soft skin…he wondered how would your skin feels like under his touch, he imagined you lightly shivering upon his touch, he snapped himself from thinking something else as his cat, Yu-jin, leading him to your porch, he tried to pull his cat away but Yu-jin decided to be stubborn and ran towards your porch making your eyes widen, you smiled at In-Ho’s reaction—he’s shocked and decided to let his cat Yu-Jin walks towards you, usually his cat doesn't really care about people, just like him. 

“Aren't you a cute little one—!” You crouched in front of In-Ho's cat, who seemed happy to see a new person besides his dad, In-Ho. The cat purred and circled around your legs. “That's odd,” In-Ho mumbled. “Odd? ” You looked up at In-Ho, who's looking at his cat still circling around your legs. “He never does that to other people,” he said coldly, not even bothering to look at you. “Oh—maybe he likes me! ” You said, ruffling the cat's fur as he lay on his back, making you rub its belly, “He's so precious—what’s his name? ” You again looked at In-Ho, who was looking at you but quickly glanced away and said, “Yu-jin.” “Yu-jin…” you tested the cat's name on your lips, “It's cute—Hi, Yu-Jin! ” You cupped the cat's face. “He's so adorable, In-Ho—” You looked at In-Ho, who gave you a look as he looked down on you, still crouching in front of him. ‘Fuck,’ he thought. “How did you know my name? ” He mumbled, so low it almost sounded like a whisper, “What?” “Forget it.” He said as he crouched down, picking up Yu-Jin in his arms, making his hands slightly brush yours. You took a glance at his hands; they're so beautiful. The veins in his hands looked attractive; it felt so smooth against yours… He also smells like coffee, your favorite coffee.

And just like that he left without even saying anything, leaving you crouching down on your porch. You sighed as you stood up, grabbing your book and your coffee before going inside the house.

In-Ho puts down Yu-Jin far enough from your house. “That's new…you've never been like that to anyone,” he said as if Yu-Jin could understand what he was saying. They went to a vet, to check up on Yu-Jin, In-Ho treats his cat like his own child, Going to a vet at least once a week, vet means new toy for Yu-Jin, And let's not forget the treats that Yu-Jin would get on the way home, But not that he doesn't want a kid or whatever, he just never really thought of falling in love, he thinks that being in love with someone takes so much time and energy, He also thinks that no one would put up with his attitude and stubbornness—he’s also a professor, a busy one, he doesn't even bother to flirt back with his colleagues at the University who's been hitting on him since he stepped foot in that university, perhaps Yu-Jin is the only one who he needs to go through with everyday. 

While waiting for Yu-Jin and his vet, he thought of you, “Damn it.” He whispered to himself. He remembered how your face looked when you were crouching down. In front of him while playing with Yu-Jin. How beautiful your smile is; he wonders how old you are, what you do for a living, but he also remembered having a book on the bench on your porch. He tried to remember what book it is, but the book cover looks familiar. He grabbed his phone and searched for something: Dante Alighieri’s book. He pressed the search button, and multiple books of the said author showed up, but he managed to find that book that you're reading earlier. ‘Inferno,’ he thought; he couldn't help but smile to himself. It's his favorite book; it's one of the reasons that he teaches as a literature professor. He's not expecting someone like you would be reading a book like this; it surprised him. He can't help but regret being rude to you; you're such a kind and gentle person. He thought of at least being nice with you—just enough for you and him to have a good relationship with each other as neighbors.

Author's Note: Omg I wasn't expecting to publish a fiction regardless of me panicking about my first semester school works—But please let me know what you think, I would really like to make this a big series. I love In-Ho/Byung Hun so much he's way too precious! Let me know if you want to be in my taglist. 🖤

[sanni276]

*Tim and Kon sitting on one of the couches in Titan's Tower*

*Kon suddenly turning to Tim*: Tim my best bro, you need to help me.

Tim: Sure. What's going on?

Kon: There is this guy I really really like but I just don't know how to tell him because everytime I flirt with him he thinks I am just joking and whenever I ask him to go out, just the two of us he answers me with: "Oh! This and this friend will love that! We should totally all go together.".

Tim internally freaking out: He likes guys? He likes a specific guy? Wait, does this mean I could have a chance with him? No, that's stupid he already said he likes someone else. Does this mean that I'm not even an option when Kon likes guys? No why am I only thinking about what this means for me? I am a horrible friend and-

Tim externally: Well what exactly do you like about him?

Kon *with a soft smile*: Everything. He's smart, somehow handsome and pretty at the same time, he is strong and good at fighting and sometimes he does things that just infuriate me and we argue but he is probably the best thing that ever happend to me and if he asked me to become supervillains and take over the world with him I would so without a seond thought.

Tim *literally crying on the inside because he's pretty sure he could be all of these things if he tried*: Then tell him that. After that say something like "I really like you and wanted to ask if you would like to go on a date with me sometime" If he still doesn't get it after all that then he is probably just not interested in you but too nice to outright say it.

Kon suddenly seriously looking Tim in the eyes: Tim, you are smart, somehow the most handsome and prettiest man i have laid my eyes upon at the same time, you are strong and and so good at everything you do and Rao you infuriate me sometimes but I wouldn't change anything about you for the world because you were there every single time I needed someone and I'm afraid ou are my favourite person and that I would sacrifice everything for you. You are my biggest weakness. My Kryptonite. I really really like you, and wanted to ask if you would like to go on a date with me sometime.

Tim: Yeah. Just like that. I'm sure whoever this mystery guy is will instantly fold. Sorry Kon, I think you're gonna have to excuse me now because Bruce wants me back in Gotham.

*Tim runs away to cry in his room and then mope about his crush for the next 2-17 buisness days*

Kon left behind head in his hands: Dude...Just tell me if you don't like me.

Kon is completly convinced that Tim knows how he feels since he is literally the best detective in the world (Yes. Even better than Batman) and there is absolutely no way he didn't get Kon's confession. Tim does infact not know.

Much to the infuriation and pain of everyone that somehow knows them it takes them another three weeks to realize their feelings are mutual and in fat not unrequited.

Except Cassandra: She had guessed the date excactly right and she won a lot of money. (there was a betting pool)

[meadowfics]

boredom got a new bestfriend

kang dae-ho x pregnant!reader

pregnancy has been exhausting, but luckily your partner is here for you.

warnings: post-squid game au. ptsd themes included but this is mainly comfort I swear

it felt like you were feeling postpartum depression before you even gave birth to the baby.

your daughter is the best thing to be happening for you right now, a human-being sharing the dna of you and your sunshine of a husband.. but you hate the discomfort.

your belly is a little bit bigger for someone who is 34 weeks along.

the doctor predicts that your girl will come out a little bit more developed than the average infant.. great.

growing up for all of your life, you slept on your stomach.

sleeping on your side and/or back during this pregnancy makes you wake up each hour, ready to throw up or cramped due to the uncomfortable position.

the lack of sleep has been killing you, and you know it will not get any better once the girl arrives.

don't worry, dae-ho has been the best partner ever, doing as much as he can to help you!

he doesn't know how it feels to carry a baby for nine months, especially a baby thats in a bigger percentile (thanks to his genetics), but he can see how much its affecting you mentally.

the man will cuddle you to sleep, give you foot massages, head massages too.. but it seems like his daughter wants to give you hell.

you're bored throughout the day as well.

its all of the time.

before your pregnancy, you used to go on walks and do chores and run errands for other people for money.

well, you had to before you joined the games.

the games are apart of the reason as to why you barely get any sleep, scared that you will wake up to someone killing you with a fork to add money to the pile.

however, you remind yourself that you are safe.

the baby is safe, you are with dae-ho, and you're all alive and safe.

even if you aren't comfortable due to your belly..

now, you cannot do a simple task like going to the grocery store without getting tired.

you've had enough, you cannot wait for the six weeks until your daughter is born.

one night, it reached its point when you went to sleep beside dae-ho.

the man's arm was wrapped around your fully developed belly, he loved to hold his daughter that you carried.

you laid on your back, your head laid down on the pillow looking up at the ceiling.

it was 12:02am when you fell asleep.

a big kick caused by your daughter made you jump awake.

dae-ho didn't wake up after you moved his arm from your stomach.

thankfully since you want him to get his sleep at least.

when you checked the time, tears immediately poured out of your eyes.

its 12:12am..

you couldn't even get ten minutes of good sleep without your body, or your daughter, stopping that.

walking out of the bedroom into the living room, you decided to turn on an old sitcom rerun that played on the overnight channels.

that did not entertain you.. nothing seemed to.

you tried to romanticize the moment, going to quickly grab some water and a fruit bowl so you could eat and relax.. but nothing worked.

sleeping was the best option, but waking up every ten minutes is driving you insane.. so why sleep at all?

"baby?"

you saw dae-ho enter the living room, wiping his tried eyes with his hands.

he is just wearing his plaid pajamas and no shirt. sexy.

sex could help the boredom, since intimacy with dae-ho is never boring, but you were too exhausted to even move at all.

"why are you awake?"

you softly ask, unaware that he could ask you the same thing.

which he is..

"I was going to ask you the same thing, since you're watching a sitcom marathon at one in the morning.."

dae ho mumbles, his big hand resting on your thigh as he looks ahead at the show on the television.

"your daughter is not letting me sleep, so I figured that watching television could pass time.. but that is not helping."

you frown.

dae-ho frowns too, moving his hand from your thigh and gently rubbing your belly.

he moves his head down towards your belly as well, going to talk to your daughter through your nightgown.

"awh, sweetheart, why are you being so mean to your mommy?"

you smile at this gesture, knowing your daughter will go right back to kicking your organs all over the place.

"I can't sleep and I am very bored.. I don't know how I am going to last these six weeks, dae."

you plead.

the man looks up at you, guilt in his eyes, as he tried to think of a solution.

"well, I can offer besides cuddles and physical affection to help you sleep comfortably.. but maybe I could stay up with you so you are not so bored as well?"

the tired man speaks through his raspy voice.

"no, dae-ho, you need your sleep."

"you need it a lot more than I do.."

dae-ho smiles,

"you will need to gain enough energy when its time to push next month!"

he's right.

how were you supposed to birth your daughter if you were too tired to push?

the man sees worry flash before your eyes and retracts his words,

"wait I was kidding, I--"

"dae-ho, I know, don't worry!"

you giggle.

you relax into your man's arms while watching the boring show on the television.

it feels like your daughter stopped her soccer/football game happening inside of your uterus.

so you close your eyes to see if your mind will take you to sleep.

you focus on dae-ho's scent since your nose is against his chest.

the first thing you notice is that dae-ho used your body wash while he showered at some point.. your vanilla body wash.. wow!

suddenly, you couldn't process anything else as you fell asleep with dae-ho.. since he already fell asleep before you.

when you wake up, the sun is shining through the curtains and you were back in your bed.

you were... comfortable.. woah.

something you haven't felt since before your belly starting growing with your baby.

the soft ivory blanket was warm against your cool skin, the pillow soft underneath your ears.

dae-ho is still asleep, his back facing towards you.

you move yourself to get behind him, big spooning him as your belly pokes his lower back.

"goodmornin', my baby."

dae-ho's raspy voice speaks, taking your small hand and kissing your knuckle lightly.

"good morning, handsome."

you smile, feeling refreshed.

looking over at the alarm clock, the time reads 10:38am

taking a huge sigh of relief, you cuddled into dae-ho more, happy to finally get some good rest after months of failure.

"how did you sleep?"

dae-ho mumbles against your soft hands.

"I slept good, for once."

you giggle.

"see, I knew my little talk to (daughter's name) would work!"

dae-ho smiles and you giggle.

"thank you, love."

masterlist

[harryhighkey]

don't let go

hi! this is a part three to my Frontman series.

thanks for all the love on this series so far!!! I've been loving writing it so I'm super happy that people are loving reading it!

here is a link to part one and part two if you haven't read them yet!

"(Y/N)," Player 001 quietly called your name, he'd awoken twenty minutes ago and had been enjoying the serenity of having you sleeping in his arms.

At some point in the night, you'd rolled over and were now facing him, your face nuzzled into his neck. Your slow breaths tickling his skin in the best way. He hadn't felt such a profound sense of peace around him in such a long time. This was a bad idea, because now he couldn't stand the thought of losing it. Hope was something he'd let go of, but there you were, right beside him with the face of an angel, you'd quickly become his ray of light at the end of the dark tunnel he'd been stuck in for years.

Last night after he had helped you calm down and knew you were fast asleep, he'd fallen asleep in your little bed too. He hadn't intended to, he knew if people saw - whether it be the other contestants or his guards - the two of you would become a talking point. Luckily you'd managed to find a bunk that was pretty hidden away, but he didn't want to draw more attention to you. Over his time of being the Frontman he'd come to learn that attention in this place usually meant you were more of a target.

It was very early, most people were still asleep, he wanted to get up before everyone started to wake up. But he just had to talk to you first, today's game was going to be the most brutal yet. He knew that, because he planned it. He knew it was going to be tough to get through, physically and emotionally. He was terrified of what it would do to you.

He moved his head, his cheek grazing yours so he could whisper right into your ear. "(Y/N)," he repeated your name, you mumbled in response, still very much closer to still sleeping than waking up. "You need to wake up, angel." He moved his face back and brought a hand up to caress your cheek, he dared to rub his nose against yours, hoping to rouse you more from your slumber.

"Hmm.." You briefly opened your eyes, only to wince and shut them tight at the sudden onslaught of light. In-ho laughed, fighting the urge to lean in and kiss you at the sight of your bottom lip pouting. "I'm sleepy." Your voice came out whiney.

"I know, (Y/N), but I need you to listen to me."

"I can listen and sleep. I can multitask."

He sighed, rubbing his thumb over your cheek. How badly he wanted to give you whatever you wanted. Soon he would be able to let you rest for as long as you desired, he just had to get you to survive this hard part first.

"This is serious, come on pretty girl, open your eyes for me."

Butterflies. You felt them explode in your stomach. He had your attention. You listened and opened your eyes, it took you a few long blinks to be able to leave them open, and a stretch that had you arching your back more into him. He had to fight off the way that movement turned him on.

"There she is, good morning." Player 001 greeted you.

"Good morning." You smiled so sweetly at him, he was so warm beside you, so comforting. You could get used to being his little spoon. There was already minimal room in the bunks but with how close the two of you were right now, it seemed you didn't need much room, anyway.

"May I ask, why did you come here?" This question hadn't left the front of his mind. He had to get this answer before bringing up the game.

"Well, I was told I could play some games for money, I won Ddajki right away. I thought it would all be that easy." You paused and took a breath. "I have a big debt I need to pay."

"But you're so young, how could you owe so much money?"

Yours eyes danced back and forth between his. You hadn't told anyone why you were here, you hadn't really planned on doing so, either. But you trusted this man, he looked at you so sincerely, he held you so tenderly, he looked out for you. "My mother, she had been sick since I was 11. There were so many medical bills building up, she couldn't pay them because she was too sick to work. I worked odd jobs when I was old enough around school, but never earned no where near enough to pay them all back." Tears started to well in your eyes. "She died when I was 19."

"(Y/N), I'm sorry." He pressed a kiss to your forehead. You shut your eyes, enjoying the intimacy in his comfort. "What about your dad?"

You clenched your jaw and spoke with venom. "He left when I was 14. He met another woman. We never heard from him since."

In-ho was piecing you together. The twisted side of him had just discovered the reason you felt drawn to him - an older man. The dark side wanted to kill your father for abandoning you during such a tumultuous time, causing you to be here right now. The gentle side you'd brought forward was going to immediately pay off all those debts for you the second these games were over.

"You had to look after her?"

"Yeah."

"That's a lot for a young girl to go through. You didn't deserve that."

You shrugged. "I can't change it now. Death is a part of life." You said so simply. "Not in the way people are dying here, though."

That guilt he hadn't felt over any other player consumed him again.

"Anyway, I've been trying to pay the debts back since, I just can't. It's so hard. I've worked full time since graduating school and still, there's so much left to pay."

"You've been on your own since she passed?"

"For the most part." You answered honestly. He started to realise you had been living with the same loneliness he had.

He shouldn't have been surprised to find out you weren't here for greed. It wasn't even your own debt to pay back, just one that had unfortunately been left to you. Of course his good girl wouldn't be like the rest of the selfish people who compete in this contest. He wanted to scoop you up and get you out of these games now, but people would see.

Holding your eye contact, his gaze was serious. "I need you to stay by my side in the next game, okay?"

You frowned. "What if I can't?" You questioned, remembering how you got split up playing the six-legged game, luckily both your teams survived.

"You must," He paused, moving his hand that was on your face to grab one of your hands instead. "I won't drop your hand, don't drop mine."

You looked down to where his hand engulfed yours, squeezing your fingers around his, he mimicked the action. "It could be a solo game, right? What will we do then?"

How could he tell you he knew what was coming? How could he tell you he designed this next game to be so deadly? How could he tell you he knew that carnage would take place? How could he without ruining what amazing thing was forming between you both that he so desperately wanted to hold onto?

"We'll just have to see when we get in the arena."

You nodded and suddenly your mind was whirring. You were trying your hardest to think of what was to come today, your breathing got shallower. In-ho noticed your overthinking kick in, and he once again squeezed his fingers around yours.

"Hey, I will keep you safe."

"What if you can't even keep yourself safe?"

"I will be fine."

"How do you know?" Your eyes shot back to his, worry was written all over your face. You were worried for yourself, but now you were worried for him, for the people you'd grown closer to over the past few days here.

He didn't have an answer for you, at least one he couldn't admit to you. Not yet. So you spoke again. "I don't want to compete anymore, Young-il."

"I know. I don't either." That was honesty, he really didn't want to, especially not anymore now that he had you to think of.

"I wish we could escape." You sighed.

It was his turn for his mind to whir. He started having an internal battle then, over if he should confess who he was and get you out right now before too many people woke up.

"We just need to get through this next game and then surely we'll win the vote to leave." He decided against confessing. You still knew him as Young-il, not even his real name - In-ho - how could you handle everything else there was to learn about him?

"You really think we'll make it through?"

"Yes, I won't let anything happen to you."

---

The curtains opened to a colourful room, a big round platform stood in the middle of the room. As your eyes darted around the room, anxiety started to fill you.

That was when Player 001 grabbed your hand, giving it a squeeze.

"Remember?" He said, you turned to look at him, nodding quickly. Knowing he was talking about not dropping each others hands. He could already see the terror written across your face. Guilt started to fill him.

As you were all walking towards the platform, the announcement was made over what the game would be. Mingle.

255 was displayed. The amount of players currently. "If they're displaying the contestant count, that must mean a lot of us are going to die, right? They want us to see that number go down." You said out loud, the group of players you'd grown closer to who were all standing around you, turned towards you. They knew you were right, it was a dark truth.

"No matter what happens, we must stay calm." In-ho spoke up, directing it to the whole group but he gave your hand a slight tug.

The platform began spinning. Your chest went tight, so did your grip around In-ho's hand.

Ten.

Everyone started forming groups, the lights were flashing. You knew you needed four more in your team to make the count. "Player 120!" You found your voice, spotting that they were a group of four.

"Run! Green door!"

It all happened so fast, but it also felt so slow. Your heart was thundering. But you were inside and the door was locked, you'd made it, you were safe.

At the sound of gunshots you jumped and turned towards the direction the noise had come in, only to met with the horrifying sight of all the contestants who hadn't made it into a room being shot to death through the little gap in the door. The colour started to drain from your face.

"Don't look." In-ho's commanding voice sounded out as he pulled you into him, placing his hands over your ears to block out the noise of the gunshots for you as much as he could. You squeezed your eyes shut.

Time seemed to move extra slow being in that room, and you knew it was because they had to move all the dead bodies away. There was enough that it was taking so long.

That was when the announcer started listing off the players that had been eliminated, the door was unlocked and you all started to exit.

You froze as a squelch noise sounded out under your shoe as you took a step. You made an audible gasp at the giant pool of blood on the floor underneath you. It was enough that you could see your own reflection in it. "Young-il." You squeezed his hand, he still hadn't let go of you.

"Look at me." You lifted your head at the sound of his voice. "You made it through, you're safe. We'll make it through again." He was so calm for you, you were so grateful.

Four. Was the next round.

168 was the amount of players left. Almost 100 people had died only after two rounds.

Three. Was the next round. This was when people really started to turn on one another, pushing, kicking, punching each other to form groups to survive. Pulling people out of rooms so they could have it, leaving the others to die. Player 001 and Player 456 made sure you got into a room with them.

You weren't doing well by this point. You couldn't take in a full breath, you were so overwhelmed. You'd never heard so many gun shots, you'd never seen so much blood, so much death. You were trying your hardest to keep a clear mind but it was feeling nearly impossible.

"I can't do this anymore." You said out loud.

In-ho and Gi-hun turned to look at you.

"I know it's hard, but you have to, (Y/N)." Player 456 said as he placed his hand on your shoulder.

"There's only likely to be a couple more rounds." Player 001 spoke this time, he knew exactly how many more were coming. "We've made it this far, we'll get through the next rounds. Remember, just keep hold of my hand." He spoke very clearly wanting to make sure you heard him, it was visible on your face that you were struggling to remain present.

Six.

There was seven of you. Everyone frantically looked around the circle.

"Should we split up?" Player 390 suggested.

"Is there enough players left to do that?" You questioned.

"I'll go." Player 001, spoke, you turned to look at him so fast your neck made a crack.

"No."

"I'll be okay." He assured you, placing your hand into Dae-ho's despite the jealous monster inside him wanting to snatch it back right away. You didn't know it but he was putting you first, he would be okay sneaking off and hiding in a room on his own, the Frontman wouldn't get killed. You wouldn't make it trying to form a new group now. "Don't let go of her." In-ho commanded him.

"Of course, sir." Dae-ho responded, quickly grabbing your hand tight.

Before you had a chance to protest, he was gone. He'd left you.

"Young-il!" You called out, but you'd already lost him.

"We have to hurry!" Player 456 yelled out, all of you moving quick towards a free room.

You turned your head over your shoulder to see if you could spot Player 001. That was when you were lifted up, your hand being ripped from Dae-ho's as you got dragged away.

"Sorry, we need her more!" Thanos held you tight in his arms, pulling you to a different room.

"No!" Dae-ho yelled out, but he was already being pulled by Jung-bae.

"Let me go!" You tried to fight against Thanos, but he was stronger.

You were pulled into a room at the last second and the door was locked behind you. As the men you were in the room with cheered, you cowered into the back corner.

You didn't know if any of your friends had made it, what if the five you were supposed to be with didn't find their sixth?

What if Player 001 hadn't found a group to go with?

What if you were truly on your own here.

You slid down the wall, you felt like you wanted to pass out. Your body trembled, your face went white, your head felt heavy and your body felt light. You were having a panic attack.

---

"Gi-hun!" In-ho called out upon seeing him exit a room. He had a smile on his face.

Gi-hun didn't return it.

Player 001 watched as everyone else left the room. When the sixth person wasn't you, he panicked, but his panic showed with rage.

"Where is she?!" Instantly he lunged at Dae-ho, grabbing him by the collar.

"I don't know! I'm sorry! I had her hand but someone just grabbed her and took her so fast. Time was running out, I'm sorry Young-il!"

"I told you not to let go of her!" He shook Player 388. What he really wanted to do was snap his neck.

“Looking for your girl?" Thanos interrupted, bouncing over to the group like he was having the time of his life. "She's in that room over there. She’s having a full mental breakdown. Baby girl can’t handle it!”

Just as In-ho began to make a move towards the room, an announcement was made.

“All remaining players must return to the platform, immediately.”

Guards moved to usher the players towards the platform, one stepped into the room that you were in, In-ho surged forward. A guard stepped directly in front of him.

“Let me help her! I’ll get her out here with the rest of us!” He yelled, his calm demeanour completely shattered at the thought of losing you.

“Just kill her! She won’t make it through the next round anyway.” Someone from the platform yelled out. In-ho turned to see who it was, knowing he'd want to remember that face. He was going to pay.

“It’ll be more money for all of us.” Player 100. The eldest man here joined in. If In-ho didn't have you as his top priority, he would have grabbed the guards gun and shot them both dead. These were the disgusting, evil, selfish displays of humans that made him keep the games running.

"Let me get her, she doesn't deserve to die for being scared." He commanded, his voice strong, still angry but more balanced. Finally the guard stepped to the side.

As In-ho approached the room he heard you begging the guard, “Just kill me, please kill me.” His heart broke.

Instantly he dropped to his knees before you. "(Y/N)," He cradled your face in his hands, angling your head up to look at him. It pained him to see the state you were in. So much horror showed on your face, he knew today was going to leave with permanent emotional scars. He'd spend his lifetime trying to heal them.

"Young-il," Your eyes went wide, you looked at him in disbelief for a few moments before you leapt forward, swinging your arms around his neck. "I thought you died."

He wrapped his arms around you so tightly, holding you against him. "I'm here, I'm sorry for not staying with you."

"Don't leave me again. You let go of my hand. Don't let me go again."

"I won't, baby. I promise I won't." He could feel your body shake, he could feel your quick and uneven breaths. He'd never second guessed being the Frontman until this moment. How could he have put you through this? "You're okay, you're alive. We're almost done, then I'm getting you out of here."

You nodded against him, your face buried in his neck.

"Put your legs around me, okay?" His hands landed on your thighs and he aided in wrapping them around his hips. "I'm going to hold you through the next round. Keep your limbs gripped strong, can you do that?" You nodded. "I need to hear you, (Y/N), I need to know you understand."

"Yes."

"Good girl. Alright, one, two, three-" He grunted as he stood up, taking you with him, his arms were wrapped tight around you, holding you in place. Your had your arms locked his neck and your legs locked around his hips, clinging to him out of pure terror.

Running to a room was going to be hard like this. He turned his head away from you, whispering directly to the guard.

“I’m going to run towards the yellow door, make sure it is locked until I'm right by it, then unlock it." His voice was very quiet, but the coldness in his tone was unmissable.

“But-“ The guard began to respond.

“Do it. Nothing happens to her.” The Frontman cut off his guard. This was a demand that was non-negotiable. Once he was walking back towards the platform, he could feel the eyes of the other contestants locked onto the two of you. A few gasps sounded out, a few muttered comments. He blocked them all out. You were his top priority in this current moment.

“Young-il, are you alright holding her? I can take her from you if you need.” Dae-ho asked once you were back on the platform, in Player 001's arms. You dared to peek your eyes open, spotting Dae-ho and everyone else, relieved they were alive.

“I’ve got her. I’m not letting her go.” In-ho kept his gaze forward, fighting the urge to call him an idiot for suggesting such a thing when he couldn't even keep ahold of your hand last round.

Two.

Chaos started, this was the worst people had acted yet. As In-ho immediately took off in a sprint, you watched over his shoulder in horror as people turned on one another. You tightened your grip around him, and he did on you in response.

Player 001 managed to dodge most of the frenzy taking place, it was almost a clean run right to the yellow room. He reached out his arm towards the door handle, his hand was almost touching it when someone slammed into the two of you. You flung out of his arms and crashed into the floor with a thud.

In-ho watched in rage as the same player then tripped over you, kicking you in your side as he fell over. If he didn't have to get you in the room so quickly, he would have killed him.

"Come here." Adrenaline surged through him as he swooped down to pick you up again. You groaned, your ribs in so much pain from the fall and kick. Tears filled his eyes, a range of emotions swirled through him. Rage for what you were going through, guilt that he was the reason this was happening to you, frustration that he couldn't just free you from it right now.

Finally, he carried you into the room, he placed you down on your feet, and turned to shut and lock the door.

"Young-il," Immediately he snapped his head around to see what had caught your attention. It was him, the man who first said to kill you. He must have snuck in when you fell to the floor.

Rage. Rage. Rage. It was all the Frontman felt as he neared the man.

"(Y/N), close your eyes and cover your ears."

You did as he said, part of you knew what he was going to do already, but part of you wanted to act like it wasn't real. With your eyes squeezed shut and your hands clasped over your ears, your tried your hardest to ignore the snapping sound, but it still made you flinch.

You flinched again at the feeling of bigger hands being placed over yours that were still pressing down on your ears. "It's me." Player 001 assured you. "Keep your eyes closed for a little longer, I'll tell you when to open them, but you made it, you're okay. The game is over now."

"Young-il, did you..." You let your voice trail off, afraid of an answer you already knew anyway.

"I did what I had to do to keep you alive."

[aralezinspace]

Cuckoo you absolutely hit the nail on the head here. Adding my two cents which is mostly reiterating what you've already said with my own thoughts.

General disclaimer, I'm just a rando on the internet so take this all with a grain of salt and no I do not condone anything Neil has done and I hope he reaps every consequence he deserves.

It's definitely not like JKR. It's more like Stephen King. Everyone knows and acknowledges Stephen King is a fucked up person and has done bad things in his past, but damn if his books aren't good. He's also not using his money to actively campaign against minorities. Stephen King (and Mr. G) are flawed, fucked up humans like the rest of us, likely even more so. Now if you look at Stephen King as a person and decide not to engage with his works, awesome! You're allowed to do that, have fun storming the castle. If you decide to do the same with Mr. G, awesome, go nuts.

However, what seems more disturbing to me is the sort of parasocial relationship a lot of people have with him, and other celebrities too. Believe me, I understand the 'oh shit that could have easily been me' and feeling like this is a gross betrayal of trust. Believe me, I get that. However, for those of you/us who have never had personal contact with Mr. G (like me), or have never even been in the same room as him, some food for thought: why does this feel so personal?

I understand the hurt, the disappointment, the outrage, the massive ick feeling. Personally I thought he was better than this, and it's very disappointing to learn that he's not. But for those who feel personally betrayed, why? In the grand scheme of things, Neil doesn't owe you/us anything, leaving out the universal 'don't be a shit human.' He doesn't know that 99% of us exist, other than as icons on a screen, as numbers under a follower count. In the grand scheme of things, you burning his books isn't going to affect him, it's only going to affect you.

I guess what I"m saying is, don't be hasty. Let the strong feelings pass before making any emotionally charged decisions (not telling y'all what to do, just my two cents). But especially to those who get so much joy from his works, and feel like they now have to renounce everything he's done and that just doesn't feel right, take a minute before doing that. Think of who you're doing it for- your own conscience? The faceless mob on the internet? To spite Neil? Because if it's for the latter two reasons, I'm willing to bet the only person you'll be hurting or sticking it to is yourself.

Nothing in this world is 100% unproblematic, and letting the internet's ever shifting standards of what is 'okay' to enjoy dictate your life just sounds like a very miserable way to live. Letting the actions of celebrities who don't even know you exist dictate what you're allowed to enjoy also sounds like a very miserable way to live.

At the end of the day, I refuse to let the shitty decisions of one shitty man who doesn't even know I exist rule my life, and limit the things I derive joy from. I've been subjected to too many shitty decisions by too many shitty people that I actually know to have room for the shitty decisions of someone I don't know. There are so many ways to engage with his properties that don't give him money- engage in fandom, pirate stuff, borrow his stuff from your local library (we love supporting libraries!), buy unlicensed merch from Etsy, Redbubble, etc. Personally, I’m going to continue to write fic and watch the new season and engage with the fandom- there are too many stories I want to tell and too many awesome people I’ve met through fandom and to give all that up for one schmuck’s bad decision seems like a huge waste. Fan creators are not Mr. G, don't throw the fandom under the bus to spite the creator.

It is possible, and actually very achievable, to condemn the bad things he's done as a person, without setting a torch to everything good his works have done.

"Appropriate" responses to the Gaiman issue

TLDR: This isn't a Rowling situation, be wary of internalized purity culture.

He's a predator. I'm glad a proper journalist followed up where police have failed (and possibly given victims a better footing for future charges).

But I have a problem with the knee-jerk responses targeting the fandom.

Just to clarify, I'm not talking about insulting The Predator. This is about how you treat people who have/do/will enjoy the stories that unfortunately came into the world through his keyboard.

Fans aren't intrinsically evil/uncaring for continuing to participate in associated fandoms.

This is not another Rowling situation. Why? Let me clarify. The consequences of consumption are very different. Rowling is ACTIVELY using her popularity and income as a creative to target one of the most vulnerable minorities in the world. Buying official merch/books/movie tickets prove to the powers that be that she remains a good investment, so they'll give her even more money. This perpetuates the cycle - new movie/book deals, more income, more hate, rinse and repeat.

The push to avoid Rowling's work in full is driven by the fact that she has FACED NO CONSEQUENCES and is still powered by her creative properties. It's fandom/consumers trying to bring justice.

Gaiman, on the other hand, knew he was doing bad shit on some level because he kept his abuse hidden. His status and reputation let him get close to vulnerable fans and essentially intimidate authorities from going after a celebrity. He is FACING CONSEQUENCES. I would personally like to see criminal charges brought against him, but that's out of the fandom's hands. Things we could've influenced (his Disney deal appears to have gone to shit, he's been booted from the truncated final season of GO, and there's no news on Sandman 3) are already in motion. If his publisher doesn't drop him, I'd say avoiding his future works is beyond valid (I certainly wouldn't buy them). But I'm going to watch the new season of Sandman. And once I've taken time away, I'll probably finish my active fics.

"Judging" people who still enjoy his work stems from good intentions that grew out of the fetid ground of purity culture rhetoric.

Writing fanfic and enjoying shows that are already made do not make people soulless accomplices. The idea that unproblematic stories by saintly creators are the only things you're allowed to enjoy is not only flirting with censorship, but it's also impossible.

If you think people should have nothing to do with Gaiman's works, you better throw out anything Weinstein touched. That includes Jackson's LOTR trilogy, FYI. Also, anything his company officially produced (which still gives him money in some cases) should never, ever grace your screen. That includes some of the better Stephen King adaptations, The Orphanage (which was a breakthrough Spanish-language film in Western markets), The King's Speech, The Imitation Game, Woman in Gold, Paddington, and It Follows.

If you aren't willing to publicly announce your "disappointment" in anyone who continues to enjoy any of those films, then kicking up a fuss over how other people process and interact with problematic content from a fallen celebrity who is in the process of getting his dues is pure hypocrisy.

Personally, I'm maliciously complying with Gaiman's famous quote about how once a story is out there, it doesn't belong to the author anymore. Well said, Predator, these are mine now, and I shall fuck about with them as I see fit.

Attacking or snobbishly looking down your nose at the fandom also erases YEARS of beautiful critique and thoughtful exploration of existing, acknowledged problems in works like The Sandman.

People in these parts already know how to handle complex issues in complex pieces of media. Gaiman isn't our god. His canon is not our bible. He didn't teach us morality, as is apparently the case for a lot of people who grew up reading Rowling's works as a child.

If you have a problem with the censorship comment I made, I'd like to point out at least one writer friend is LEANING INTO the fandom as a way to process their own trauma. Suffice it to say they survived a very similar situation. They see it as empowering to take the stories away from the abuser and use the characters/settings to make something new.

I get the ick. I have it right now. But I'm not burning every copy of his work I own (full disclosure I have... *checks shelves* a copy of Neverwhere and The Sandman series). Doing so is totally valid, and if that helps you process and feel better - go for it!

But this is not the same as Rowling and the only ones you hurt by declaring your "judgement" is a complex group of individuals who are able to enjoy fiction, remain aware of potential social consequences, and found a place that doesn't align with your black/white morality.

With that said, judge away! I better not see any stories from Charles Dickens, anything in anyway associated with the Weinsteins, Nickelodeon shows, Charlie Chaplin references, or Francis Ford Coppola films touch your feed. If you scratch the surface, you'll find more things to judge others for enjoying, and they will inevitably find something to judge you for, too.

[sizzlingcloudmentality]

fuckboy

unnamed ppu character x f!reader | wc: 3.5 k | explicit, mdni

summary: you meet this guy at a bar, drink too much and he shows you his questionable definition of making out aka storage room sex. spoiler: it's never just the tip.

warnings: filth, very dubious dub-con, drunk reader, her consent is questionable, gaslighting, manipulating, he's an insufferable fuckboy and needs to go to hell actually, he's a bad lay, unspecified but legal age gap, fingering, rough-ish unprotected PinV, creampie, petnames (baby, cockslut), dick+pussy pronouns, two ass smacks, no use of y/n, reader is able-bodied

a/n: this bitch was supposed to be a tiny drabble. oops. inspired by this post. @iamasaddie, you wanted me to elaborate, here you go, i hope this tingles in adult ways, at least a little bit. thank you for your help with the header <3 and thank you @guiltyasdave for the same as always: everything (aka beta and unlimited support and love 💕)

The bar is brimming, buzzing, the bass vibrates through every single person in the room, raw dogging each one of them, one after another and all at the same time.

He looks ridiculous. Too old for a place like this, hideous but somehow sexy Hawaiian shirt, of course only buttoned up halfway to show off his toned chest and a gold chain necklace, and he wears sunglasses, indoors. Big violet mirrors, aviator shaped, hiding behind them. Hiding his intentions but they are oh so clear.

The guy purses his lips, eyebrows dancing, hips moving side to side and back to front, obviously a preview of what’s to be expected if someone hooks up with him.

It was the blondish-white strand in the otherwise dark hair that made you weak for him. You don't even know why. While the rest of the man screams ‘fuckboy’ the blonde strand purrs ‘baby boy’.

The strand looks so pretty, whenever the color of the lights changes, always tinted in red or orange or blue. The strand looks really pretty in the storage room, too. It begs to be touched and tugged.

So you do. You touch it and gently tug it while he touches your thighs and tugs on your panties. Then he tugs them aside and you whimper when he runs his thumb through your slit without a warning.

“How old are you exactly?” he rasps against your neck, licking your skin while his thumb searches for something. Your clit probably, you think and moan when he finds it for a moment.

“Old enough to drink alcohol,” you mutter and let your head fall back against the tiled wall. The turned over crates bite into the flesh of your ass, empty bottles rattle when he pulls you closer towards him.

“So you're old enough for this bad boy.” He grins at you, a stupid proud grin, and takes your hand away from his hair and guides it to the bulge in his jeans. When you don't start moving your hand, he does it for you, over the whole length and back. “You want him? Wanna see him? You do, right?”

His damp breath brushing your ear adds to the dizziness in your head. Your head is spinning a little from the music and the drinks. Spinning, just like his thumb, that is now circling close enough around your clit to finally feel good.

“I dunno,” you murmur and try to get your swimming mind to focus.

“That's not a no, baby. So you want him. I knew it.” His free hand fumbles with his zipper. The crates you're sitting on quake when he pulls down his jeans. And before you know it, you feel something in your palm. Smooth and hard and hot, heavy, jumping in your hand.

It’s not exactly what you signed up for earlier, when he paid for two of your drinks and sucked on your earlobe. When he said something about you being so cute and making out with him. Just kissing. I promise, baby. I know a place. And then he dragged you along with him into this crammed storage room that smells like booze and sweat.

You kissed, for a minute or so. But now you have his cock in your hand. You look down and his thumb swipes over your clit, making you moan and him twitch. Why do you have his cock in your hand? He feels so heavy and warm. He feels a bit good, actually.

His hand moves to cup your cunt, the ball of his thumb pressing against your sensitive nub and a nimble finger -or two?- is slipping into you and immediately back out. At least that's what it felt like, you're not sure. But you feel yourself clamp down on nothing, chasing what was there just a second ago. His tongue moves over your pulse and a whine escapes you.

“Oh, I know, baby, you like him, right?” He moves closer, trapping you between the cold wall and his warm body, between the plastic crate and his dick. A finger dips into your heat again, deeper now, deep enough for you to be sure about feeling him inside of you. This is definitely not just kissing, but it somehow feels good.

“Baby, she wants me. You feel it, too, right?” His tongue runs along your neck and to your ear, his hips buck and your fingers tighten around his cock. He’s so hard beneath all the hot smoothness.

His fingers are pushing in deeper now and you clench around him. “See? You want me. You're so wet, baby. You know that it means you want me.” He pulls his fingers out and presses them back in, matching his thrusts in your palm with the rhythm of fingering you.

You groan out a curse and start accepting your fate. Fine, then you're getting fingered in exchange for a few drinks. That's okay, he's not too bad at it. The thickness of his fingers is half the battle.

The small blonde strand is catching your attention and lures your hazy mind in. Baby boy. Your body already surrenders to his ministrations and you roll your hips, moaning when he slips in another fraction of an inch.

“Mhmm, jus' what I thought. Desperate, that's what you are. You want more? You feel good?”

You dumbly nod your head because all you're able to think about is the throbbing ache in your pussy and the smooth movement of his cock in your hand. Yeah, he makes you feel good. With a wet sound he pulls his fingers out again.

“I'll give you more then, if that's what you want.” He nudges your hand off his dick and grips himself at the base. “Baby, look. He's excited for you.”

You look between your bodies again and squint to get a clearer vision. Precum. He's leaking. There's a clear drop forming over his slit. No, this definitely is not just kissing. Your eyes meet his again and when you open your mouth to speak he shifts forward and wedges the fat head of his cock between your folds.

You're whining again, your hips bucking into the sensation. A moment of clarity forms between your dazed mind and your nudged clit: Fuck. Shit. No. You don't even know his name.

When you start squirming he grabs you by your waist, firmly but not painfully. He hums, sounding a bit strained now. Slowly, slowly his dick glides back and forth through your slit, pushing at your nub whenever he reaches it.

“Baby, what's the problem? It feels good, doesn't it?” His eyebrows dance and he looks at you like a kicked puppy. “God, you're so messy, listen.”

It's true, you can hear the squelching over the soft clinking of bottles in the crate whenever he guides himself all the way to your entrance, rubbing his shaft against you.

“Yeah, but…” You groan quietly when he moves his hips back and drag himself along your clit. “A condom. You have one?”

He just laughs and continues his movements through your slick folds.

“What would we need a condom for, hm, silly girl? They're just cuddling. She hugs him, baby, hugs him real tight.” He pushes his cock forward to your clenching hole, but never makes the final move, never dips in. Your mind tells you no, yet your body clearly wants it, to be fucked.

“And he likes her. Look, they're kissing.” He draws his hips back, cock in hand, and starts dabbing and tapping and burrowing the thick, plush tip against you. “Just making out, like us. That's okay, right? Kissing?”

He pushes deeper again, only to move back immediately. Back and forth, just his tip rubbing you, just the fat rim teasing and teasing and teasing your aching clit. It looks good, the way he appears and disappears again, all glistening.

“That's okay, yes,” you mutter breathily, trying to suppress another moan. He doesn't let up, keeps the slow rhythm of back and forth. God, you need his fingers again, he needs to numb the pulse inside of you.

“I know it's okay. Feels good, hm?” he whispers sweetly against your lips before flicking his tongue against your top lip. “She feels so good, baby… You like how he feels? Like how my cock feels?”

You nod your head again and meet his movements halfway, tilting your hips so you can feel him prod your entrance a little more. The emptiness inside starts hurting and you whimper with his lips ghosting yours. He smells of beer and body spray, all mixing together with a whiff of arousal.

“I need… I need…” you gasp out and try to grind against him as good as you can.

“You want me to stop? Is it too much?” His movements come to a halt and he pulls away slightly, grinning and hiding it behind a sweet little peck.

You squirm again, this time closer instead of away. One hand clutches his, the one he pumps himself with. You swallow, your tongue darting out to wet your lips. They taste like booze and beer.

“No, no, god, please. I need a lil' more?” You tug on him, trying to guide his hand back right up against your core.

“Oh, I'm not sure, baby…” He gives in a little bit and lets his leaking cock rest against your sensitive nub again. “You really want more of me? Of him?”

You tug more on his hand, frustrated with his hesitation. “Need you inside,” you groan and pull on his fingers, wanting them back in your aching cunt.

“Inside? Are you sure?” He lets you squeeze his fingers into the wetness of your slit, carefully letting his dick follow.

“Yes! Please,” you whine and let go of his hand when he prods you with a single digit. Thank fuck, you think.

“But jus’ the tip,” he murmurs almost apologetically.

Your question about what the hell he is talking about is knocked out of your brain the moment you feel a stretch that’s not coming from his fingers. He presses inside of you. Just the tip, like he said. Like you never meant it. But he stretches you so perfectly on the first inches that you can’t even protest. Until he withdraws himself again.

“That good, baby? That what you want? Say yes,” he pleas, his breath hot against your ear and you feel him shift again. His dick slides all the way through your slit to your clit and back, slowly pressing back into you again.

“Fuck, yes.” It feels good. Better than the aching. You just want to feel stuffed. Your forehead drops onto his shoulder and you whimper when he continues to sluggishly fuck you with his fat tip. “But… a condom?”

He sighs and when he pulls out he stops moving again, leaving you hanging and you pussy clenching desperately.

“This isn't even sex, baby. It's just. The. Tip.” He tilts your head up and looks at you over his stupid aviators. “Listen, we can stop if you don't want this. I'm doing this just for you. Because you asked me to. You wanted more, right? Wanted to feel good?”

Your head nods, maybe a little prompted by his fingers under your chin.

“See, there we have it. You want this and they're just making out. Tongue kissing.” He pushes back in and it feels better than before. But you can't really say if he’s in deeper? You don't care too much. Tongue kissing. It makes sense. “I'm just doing this for you, baby. Because you seem to need it so badly.”

He smiles a friendly and seemingly sincere smile while pulling out and pushing back into you, painfully slow. Like scratching an itch with nothing but a tickle.

“I really care about you, hm?” His whisper fleets to your ear when he drops your face back to his shoulder. The next shallow thrust makes him grunt and your pussy clamps down on him. He slips past the tight spot -accidentally probably?- and you feel full for a second. Filled and good and you want it again.

But he draws back again, moaning into the crook of your neck. “Sorry ‘bout that, baby. But you're so wet. Got a slip and slide pussy there.”

His hips roll and his tip nudges back into you. Again and again, until your fingers are clutching him and your body writhes towards him, desperate for more depth. The edge of the crate cuts into the meat of your ass, the bottles rattling with every small thrust.

There isn't much to it. In your hazy mind this thought appears like a beacon. He's been inside already. The damage is already done, nothing you could take back now. He could fuck you stupid instead of feeding you this sample sized version of sex.

He wedges his hard cock back into your hole and slips out again, leaving your cunt sopping and clenching and empty. You can feel your slick slowly running down your thighs. You rarely ever felt this horny, this desperate for a dick. It’s almost like he teases you on purpose.

“Fuck me,” you whine and command at the same time. “God, just fuck me.”

“You sure? I don't have a condom. Are you clean?”

You manage to scoff at his audacity but… maybe he wouldn't ask this if he wasn't clean himself? That's good. It's safe, somewhat safe.

“Of course I'm clean.” You want to sound confident and pissed off but your voice is whiny and morphs into a moan when he thrusts into you halfway.

“I'm trusting you then. Don't lead me on.” He sounds strained now, strangled, with your snug cunt squeezing him.

A handful more slow strokes and he's buried balls deep. Both of you pant, you because your aching gets soothed and he because you pulse around him. Your body tries to egg him on to fucking move, but he just stays still.

“Shit. She tight.” He lets out a single hoarse laughter before his hips buck just a little deeper into you and you swear he must be somewhere in your guts. “Christ, she’s gripping him.”

He pulls out, almost completely, and fills you back up with one harsh thrust.

“Fuck,” you moan and hook your legs behind his ass when the tower of crates beneath you starts shaking from the impact. And then he starts fucking you, hard. Fast. The bottles rattle rhythmically in time with his thrusts.

His hands dig into your hips when he grabs hard enough to feel your bones. He pulls you onto him, fucking himself with you.

He's not good per se, just slamming into you over and over again, his balls slapping against your ass with every harsh pump. But he has a good sized cock, just an inch too long and a little too girthy. The stretching is never ending, the slight sting hurts just right, and his pelvis hitting your poor, swollen, teased clit is going to finish you sooner or later. You just feel so full. The way he stretches you out on his cock makes you dumb.

“You always do this?” He snarls, using the wobbling crate tower for more leverage. “Getting a guy to fuck you in the backrooms? You just need it that bad?” His thumb somehow finds your pulsing nub and he starts to rub it roughly until your legs quake around his waist from the stimulation.

“Oh… oh fuck…” Your nerve endings are on fire and your muscles twitch and clench. You clutch his arm, nails digging into his bicep when he won’t stop to harshly flick and rasp over your clit. Despite it all, you feel the familiar tug behind your navel. The heat is not building slowly, it’s approaching you violently.

“Don’t tell me you're close already, baby?” You see him grin before your eyes roll back, your vision turning black. “I thought I would be special. But you're just using me. Just want my cock.” He lets his hips snap into you, thrusting in too deep but in a good way. “Little cockslut.”

You whine, wanting to protest but you’re pinned down on the tilting crates, spread over this guy’s girth with your toes curling in your shoes. Complaining is the last thing on your mind.

“You gotta pull out.” Probably the only coherent thought you have left. You’re on birth control, but having this stranger’s cum dripping down your legs later when you're back with your friend?

“For real? A cockslut but not a cum dump? Such a rare breed, aren’t you?” His laughter sounds choked, breathless, the wet slapping of his slicked balls against your ass just as loud as his words. “I’ll pull out, don't worry, baby.”

He shifts his weight from one foot to the other and plucks your leg off of his waist. Even though your muscles are already tense and twitching he straightens it out over his chest. “But first I’ll make you come on him.” Another hard hip snap and the changed angle makes you see twinkling stars on your retina when he hits you deeper. He grins down at you when you cry out your pleasure. “That's right, baby, let me hear you. Let the people hear that you're my little cockslut.”

His lips latch to your ankle that's resting on his shoulder and sucks on your skin as if he wants to brand you. And while he somehow manages to fuck you harder you wonder how many women in this bar have a hickey on their ankles.

And then you stop thinking. His thrusts turn sloppy, sweat forms on his forehead and runs down your leg and adds to your slick. “I’ll make you come so hard. You can feel it, right? Make you gonna black out on my cock, baby.” A nip to your ankle and then a smack on the side of your ass and your pussy starts clenching and choking on his girth. Still he keeps on fucking into you, struggling with how hard your muscles tighten around him.

“I’m… I’m gonna…”

Your yelp makes him grip you tighter and with a last thrust you fall right over the edge. His moans ring in your ears when his hips stutter, but he keeps fucking you through it. Your spasming body is held securely in his arms, preventing you to hurt yourself on the wobbly crates.

“Fuck, that's it, baby. Best pussy I ever fucked, I swear,” he hisses when his hips start stuttering. “Gonna make me fucking come. Gonna come for you. You want that?” He slams into you and somehow prolongs your orgasm with how he spreads your quaking cunt open over and over again. More of that, you want more of this orgasm.

So you nod your head and moan, trembling like the stacked bottles beneath your body. “Yes, I want that, please. Jus’ don’t stop.”

Another smack lands on your ass and he gives you a few last pumps before he pushes into and against you so hard that it makes you wince. Through the pulsing of your walls you feel him throbs and twitch, spitting out his cum so deep into you that you feel stuffed, really fucking stuffed. And it feels so good.

After a second he starts rolling his hips, letting himself be milked by your pussy until he finally and unceremoniously pulls out. He tilts his head, looking at his handiwork over the rim of his aviators. “Fuck yes. She’s so pretty like that, all wrecked.” The tip of his cock squeezes through your swollen and ruined slit once more, slipping into your gaping hole to draw another moan out of you. When he pulls out again some of his cum gets pushed out and starts running down to your ass.

“You… you didn’t pull out?” Despite your anger your body still vibrates and twitches.

“Couldn't. She gripped me too tight. It’s her fault,” he smirks and pets your mound. “But don't worry, I'm snipped, baby.”

He wipes himself dry with his hand, doing a poor job but he doesn't seem to care. Still half hard and sticky he stuffs his dick back into his boxers. “You want my number, baby?”

“Fuck you,” you hiss and search the storage room for some tissues.

“I knew you'd break my heart, baby,” he chuckles and watches you clean yourself. “But I really like you. You're special. Got a perfect pussy, too. Here, if you wanna use me again, I'm all yours.”

He pulls out something off his pocket, like a business card. No name or number printed on it. He puts it on a crate next to you before kissing your forehead. “God, baby, I think I’m in love with you,” he croons with a shit eating grin.

“Sure you are, fuck off.”

He lifts his hands and walks backwards until he reaches the door. “Gonna miss you.” He purses his lips, making a little kiss noise and disappears back into the bar.

You look over your own appearance and see the blank business card. When you turn it around you see it. A fucking QR code. A fuckboy with a QR code. Some more cum leaks into your pulled back panties and you bite the inside of your cheeks.

“Fuck it.” You put his card into your bra. Stupid cockslut.

you liked this? that's alright, we are all filthy little animals here. commenting or reblogging is appreciated, thank you! <3

want more dub-con? maybe you like this short Dave York fic: tainted heart

find my general masterlist here

dividers: as always @/saradika-graphics

[diamonddaze01]

oh, baby!

pairing: husband!seungcheol x fem!reader, bestfriend!jeonghan x fem!reader wc: 5.4k genre: fluff, crack | au: non-idol!au | rating: pg warnings: mentions of pregnancy, mentions of alcohol consumption a/n: based on an ask by an anon! i love writing miscommunication LMAO. i'm not the best with stuff regarding pregnancy though, so if this reads bad...im sorry // big thanks to @tusswrites for beta-ing and giving me ideas for the scenes! and thank yoj to @wongyuseokie for the lovely banner!

summary: in which jeonghan knows he's the bestest of friends, so why can't you tell him your secret? read as: jeonghan knows you're pregnant. you have to be, right?

Jeonghan prides himself on being a really good friend. The best, even, if you asked him. He’s the kind of friend who remembers everyone’s favorite coffee order, who diffuses arguments with that easy smile (just ask Seungkwan and Seokmin about the infamous Jeju incident), and who somehow manages to be exactly where you need him, exactly when you need him.

He’s the one who introduced you to Seungcheol, and later, he turned down Seungcheol’s offer of being best man just so he could stand by your side during the wedding. He held back tears as he watched his two best friends exchange vows, hands trembling with how much he cared for both of you. Jeonghan even caught the bouquet afterward— everyone relentlessly teases him about it—and he keeps some of the petals in his wallet, pressed flat like they’re part of his heart.

So, yeah. Jeonghan considers himself the ultimate best friend—which is why he’s feeling a little miffed that you didn’t tell him. You’re pregnant, and he had to overhear it like some nosy bystander. Granted, it’s not like you’re obligated to share every detail right away, but he can’t help the small sting of hurt, the sense that he’s been left out of something monumental. And if there’s one thing Jeonghan’s always wanted, it’s to be the cool uncle— the one your kid would adore, the one they could go to for all kinds of secrets and stories.

Jeonghan knows he shouldn’t have eavesdropped (he knows, truly), but he couldn’t resist when he saw the two of you murmuring in a corner outside the bar, expressions far too serious for a simple night out. He presses himself against the door of his car, praying he’s hidden in the shadow, and watches as you drop your head against Seungcheol’s shoulder, your hand gripping his tightly.

“It’s okay, baby,” Seungcheol’s voice is soft, his hand gently circling your back. The quiet reassurance sounds so intimate, so tender, it tugs at something in Jeonghan’s chest.

“What are we gonna do?” you whisper, your words muffled as you press your nose into Seungcheol’s neck.

Jeonghan holds his breath as he watches Seungcheol pull back, his hands moving to your hips, fingers splayed protectively. His thumbs start tracing soothing circles at the bottom of your stomach, eyes locked onto yours with an intensity Jeonghan has rarely seen. “We’ll do whatever you want, my love,” Seungcheol says, voice steady. “It’s your choice.”

And that’s when it hits Jeonghan, right there in the cold. His heart skips a beat. Pregnant. You’re pregnant.

A thrill courses through him, excitement mingling with nerves. You’re going to be parents—something he’d always imagined would happen one day, but he never expected it to feel this real, this soon. He’s already picturing himself as the “cool uncle,” the one your kid would adore, the one they could go to for all kinds of secrets and stories.

But why hadn’t you told him? The sting of hurt starts to creep in, subtle yet unshakable. He’s your best friend—shouldn’t he have been one of the first to know? He sighs, leaning back against the car, the chilly metal pressing into his back, anchoring him. Maybe it’s early; maybe you’re waiting to process this as a couple. The thought soothes him slightly. And while he’d love nothing more than to rush over and demand answers, he knows he’ll have to wait until you’re ready.

His phone buzzes, startling him. Joshua.

joshuji: u coming in or what

joshuji: we want alc hurry UP

Jeonghan glances up, heart still racing, as he spots you and Seungcheol walking toward the bar’s entrance. He straightens his jacket, quickly pasting on his most nonchalant smile. Nothing happened, he tells himself. Just a regular night out.

Inside, the bar is alive with the hum of laughter and music, dim lights casting warm shadows across the wooden tables. Usually, Jeonghan would soak in the energy, but tonight he’s got a mission. He spots Joshua waving him over to the booth, where you, Seungcheol, and the rest of the group are already seated, laughter spilling out as Seungkwan finishes a story. Jeonghan can see the happiness on your face, the ease in the way you lean against Seungcheol—and it grounds him, if only a little.

Sliding into the booth, Jeonghan flashes a quick grin. “Alright, what did I miss?”

“Just in time!” you say brightly, reaching for the menu with a casualness that Jeonghan can’t help but find a little too… normal. “We haven’t ordered yet, but I’m thinking something fruity. Maybe a cocktail?”

His heart skips a beat. Cocktail? Oh, absolutely not. The protective instinct kicks in faster than his thoughts.

“Actually…” He reaches across the table, plucking the menu from your hands before he can even think twice. “Maybe tonight’s not a cocktail night for you?”

You blink, confused. “Huh? Since when are you my personal bartender?”

His laugh is quick, covering his nervousness. “Oh, I just… well, you’ve been looking kind of tired lately. Right, Seungcheol?” He tosses a hopeful glance in Seungcheol’s direction.

Seungcheol, clearly not expecting the cue, fumbles slightly before nodding. “Uh, yeah, babe, now that he mentions it… maybe.”

Your gaze sharpens, suspicion creeping in as you study Jeonghan’s face. “Tired? I’m not tired. I’m fine!”

Jeonghan quickly backpedals, his mind racing. “Of course you are! It’s just, well, you know, the cocktails here are pretty strong. Maybe a soda or a nice glass of water, just to keep things… chill?”

Joshua’s eyebrow arches in amusement. “Since when do you care about people drinking, Jeonghan?”

“Just looking out for my friends!” Jeonghan insists, pulling you close and throwing his arm around your shoulders in a playful half-hug. “Only the best for you, buddy! Besides, wouldn’t want you, uh… getting woozy on us.”

You narrow your eyes, a smirk playing at the corner of your lips. “I think I can handle one cocktail, Jeonghan.”

He glances around, desperate. “Right, right, but you know, Seungkwan was just saying how amazing the mocktails are here. No… risks. All the flavor. Right, Seungkwan?”

Seungkwan’s mouth opens, clearly taken by surprise, but he gives a quick nod. “Yeah! Mocktails. They’re, uh… very safe. Delicious, too.”

You fold your arms, your amusement turning into a mix of suspicion and annoyance. “What’s going on with you tonight, Jeonghan?”

Jeonghan stammers, adjusting his posture but keeping his smile intact, though his face flushes under the dim lights. “Nothing! Just… just looking out for you. That’s what friends are for, right?”

Your expression softens, the suspicion melting into exasperated affection. With a sigh, you shrug. “Fine. I’ll try the mocktail, I guess.”

Relief washes over him, his shoulders relaxing as he shoots a quick grin at Seungcheol, who shakes his head, clearly amused but in on the act. For the rest of the evening, Jeonghan doesn’t let his guard down for a second. Every time the waiter brings over a drink, he discreetly “taste-tests” yours with an exaggerated nod before passing it along.

“Just making sure it’s up to your high standards,” he says with a smirk each time you raise an eyebrow at him.

You laugh, shaking your head, your hand instinctively slipping into Seungcheol’s under the table, your thumb stroking his knuckles.  “You’re acting so weird tonight, Jeonghan.”

If only you knew.

Jeonghan wasn’t trying to eavesdrop. He swears. He’s just standing by the kitchen counter, the crinkling bag of chips in his hand an innocent alibi, while scanning the room for something—or someone—interesting. The dinner is in full swing, music humming softly in the background, conversations buzzing like white noise, and he’s basking in the satisfying quiet of being a wallflower in a room full of social butterflies.

He pops another chip into his mouth, savoring the salty crunch, when Mingyu’s voice cuts through the atmosphere like a spotlight snapping on.

“Seungcheol, man, we’re so proud of you!” Mingyu says, loud enough to turn heads.

Jeonghan tilts his own head slightly, his chip midair. He wasn’t expecting that.

“Yeah, seriously,” Seungkwan pipes up, clapping Seungcheol on the back hard enough to make him stumble. “It’s about time!”

Jeonghan’s hand hovers, chip forgotten as he shifts his attention. A small crowd is forming around Seungcheol now, congratulatory pats and cheers echoing through the room. Seungcheol, as always, wears the kind of bashful grin that makes it clear he’s soaking in the attention, even if he pretends he doesn’t like it.

“It really did take years,” Seungcheol admits, rubbing the back of his neck in that way he always does when he’s being humble.

And there you are, standing right beside him, smiling so warmly that Jeonghan swears the room tilts a little. “But he didn’t give up. I’ve seen him work so hard, day and night,” you say, the pride in your voice impossible to miss.

Jeonghan’s brow furrows as he slowly lowers the chip to the bag. Pride. Hard work. Years. What’s this about?

The murmurs of approval spread through the group like wildfire. Jeonghan catches Mingyu and Seungkwan clinking their beers in silent celebration.

“It’s not easy breaking into this industry,” Mingyu says sagely, though Jeonghan knows for a fact the most Mingyu’s ever ‘broken into’ is a tub of ice cream after a long day.

Jeonghan frowns. Industry? His mind races as he flicks his gaze between you and Seungcheol. What industry?

“Man,” Seungcheol begins, shaking his head with a small, nostalgic laugh, “those years in the bedroom and basements—”

Jeonghan chokes on his chip.

Heads whip around to look at him. He coughs, hand over his mouth, scrambling to recover.

“Bedroom?” Jeonghan croaks, louder than he intended.

A few people snicker, but Seungcheol looks more confused than anything, one brow arching as he crosses his arms. “Uh… yeah?”

Jeonghan blinks rapidly, his mind running laps. Years in the bedroom? With you? And basements? What does that even mean?

“That’s where I started making music,” Seungcheol continues, his voice steady but tinged with the slightest bit of defensiveness.

“Oh,” Jeonghan mutters, the word barely audible over the thudding of his pulse. “Music.” He forces his face to remain neutral, though his brain is screaming. He takes another chip, if only to have something to do with his hands.

Seungcheol doesn’t stop, his voice gaining momentum like a runaway train. “It was rough, honestly. I spent hours in there, pouring everything into it, over and over again—”

Jeonghan’s hand freezes in the bag, his eyes going wide as unbidden images flicker through his mind. Images that have nothing to do with music. He fights the urge to slap himself.

“And you supported me through all of it,” Seungcheol says, his voice softening as he turns to you. His eyes practically glow with sincerity.

You smile at him, your expression so warm, so open, that Jeonghan feels a twinge of secondhand emotion. There’s something private in the way you look at Seungcheol, something that feels too big for a moment like this.

And yet, Jeonghan can’t help but tighten his grip on the chip bag.

Mingyu breaks the moment with a hearty clap on Seungcheol’s shoulder. “It’s inspiring, really. You just kept going, even when it got hard.”

Jeonghan’s chip crumbles in his hand. Did no one else hear that?

“Well,” you say with a laugh that’s just shy of teasing, “he never does things halfway. When he’s passionate, he’s all in.”

Jeonghan presses his lips together tightly, his shoulders shaking as he stifles a laugh. He risks a glance around the room, but no one else seems fazed.

Seungcheol chuckles, rubbing the back of his neck again. “What can I say? It’s worth it when it’s something you love.”

Jeonghan is two seconds away from either bursting into laughter or leaving this dinner altogether. He doesn’t know which option will save his sanity faster.

“Man,” Seungkwan says, grinning broadly, “and now you’re a producer at that studio! You really made it, Cheol.”

Jeonghan freezes mid-breath. Producer?

“Oh,” he blurts out before he can stop himself. “Music.”

Seungcheol’s brow furrows as he turns toward Jeonghan. “Yeah? What else would it be?”

“Nothing,” Jeonghan replies quickly, brushing off the crumbs from his hands as nonchalantly as possible. “Congrats, man. Really proud of you.”

Seungcheol eyes him for a beat longer before Mingyu distracts him with another round of enthusiastic pats.

As the conversation flows back to lighter topics, Jeonghan sneaks another glance at you and Seungcheol. You’re laughing at something he’s said, your hand swatting his arm playfully, and Seungcheol leans down to whisper something in your ear. The way you nudge him back, your smile soft, makes Jeonghan’s chest feel oddly heavy.

He shakes his head, letting out a quiet laugh to himself. I’m definitely overthinking this.

But no matter how many chips he eats, the phrase “years in the bedroom and basements” echoes in his mind, refusing to leave.

Sunday brunch has been a sacred tradition ever since you and Jeonghan were broke, hungover, and shamelessly nosy college kids. It used to be a chance to pick apart every terrible decision from the night before—who ended up with who, which of your friends was blacklisted from your favorite bar this time, and whether that one prof actually knew how to teach or was just winging it. Now it’s all slightly more respectable, though the core vibe is the same: hungover, nosy, a little too loud for public, and still hung up on the drama of the week.

When Jeonghan strolls in, spotting you at your usual table with an iced Americano in hand, he stops short. For a second, he feels a wave of pride—he’s got his act together, and you’re clueless as ever—but it’s quickly followed by a flash of concern. So he switches gears, zeroes in on your coffee cup, and slides into the booth with what he hopes looks like an easy grin.

He prides himself on subtlety, Jeonghan does. He’s sure he can manage this without causing alarm, without making you feel pressured or spied on. Just a small adjustment to the routine. Easy.

“Hey, what’s that you’re drinking?” he asks as he slides into the seat across from you, keeping his tone light but shooting you a grin that’s maybe a little too tight. He plucks the coffee cup from your hand before you can react, inspecting it like he’s never seen iced coffee before.

“Uh… an iced Americano?” You raise an eyebrow, more amused than anything, but he can already tell you’re getting suspicious. You take in his tight smile and his sudden interest in your drink. “Why?”

He takes a quick sip and barely stifles a grimace. “Iced Americano. Really? You drink this every Sunday?”

You shrug. “Yeah, since forever. What’s your deal?”

“Oh, nothing,” he says, shrugging it off as he slides the coffee back. “Just thought you’d want something herbal, maybe? Like… chamomile? Peppermint?” he offers, trying to sound casual. “Soothing stuff, you know? Maybe something decaf?”

“Herbal?” You narrow your eyes. “When did you get all wholesome on me? Since when do you care about herbal tea?”

You stare at him, an eyebrow quirking, skepticism starting to creep into your eyes. “Herbal? Are you okay? Since when do you care about, like, chamomile tea?”

He gives a quick shrug, faking his usual breeziness. “I’m just saying! Caffeine’s not all it’s cracked up to be, you know? All the jitters, the heartburn…” He trails off, flashing a strained smile. He’s proud of how smoothly he’s handling this, trying to steer you away from the iced coffee without raising any red flags.

You give him a look, deadpan. “Han, I have one coffee, once a week. And half of it’s in your stomach now, so don’t lecture me.”

He barks out a laugh, forcing himself to look casual as hell as he raises his hands in mock surrender. “Right, right. My bad. But you should try water instead—hydration is key, y’know.” Without giving you a chance to argue, he pops out of the booth and heads to the counter for a bottle of water.

He keeps an eye on you from the counter, grinning to himself like he’s just scored a major win. This is step one, and he figures if he plays his cards right, you won’t even notice his sudden caffeine-sabotage campaign. He grabs a bottle, quickly sidling back over to the booth.

He plunks it down in front of you with a wide smile, as if he’s doing you the world’s biggest favor. “Stay hydrated. That shit is better than any iced Americano.”

You just stare at him, bewildered. “What the hell is going on with you today?”

“Nothing!” Jeonghan insists, a bit too enthusiastically. But then, maybe he overplays his hand. The next thing he knows, he’s sliding the bottle over to you and muttering, “Gotta stay hydrated, buddy.”

“Buddy?” You shoot him a look that could drill holes. You’re not buying it, not even a little. Jeonghan practically flinches because, yeah, he never calls you “buddy.” Normally, it’s just your name—or a well-timed “ho” when he’s feeling especially feisty. He can tell the second he says it that he’s tipped you off, just a bit.

And now, you’re watching him, that too-sharp glint in your eyes. “Since when am I your buddy?” you ask, voice laced with suspicion.

Jeonghan keeps his grin intact, waving it off like he’s got nothing to hide. “What? Aren’t we buddies?” He goes for his water glass and takes a long, slow sip, playing up the nonchalance. “Just looking out for you. You need a buddy to make sure you stay hydrated, that’s all.”

But he’s starting to see it in your eyes—that look you get when you know he’s up to something. He can feel his casual act slipping, so he pulls back, deciding to ease up on the hints. “Anyway,” he says, tone lightening, “I’m just messing with you,” He leans back, stretching with a lazy grin that he hopes comes off as relaxed, not calculated. “So, anyway. Tell me about what that idiot boss of yours pulled this week.”

You’re still squinting at him, but he can see you filing his “buddy” slip-up away for later. Probably already figuring out ways to make him squirm next time he tries to pull something over on you. The thought almost makes him laugh.

Despite the coffee swiping, you settle back, leaning into the usual rhythm of your weekly debrief, losing yourself in the vent session as you pick at your food and Jeonghan eggs you on. He throws in his own commentary—“I swear, that guy’s one bad review from a lawsuit”—while giving you sideways glances, watching to make sure you’re sipping the water. And every now and then, he slides your plate a little closer, pushing you to take another bite.

But in between the jokes, he’s already plotting his next move. Subtlety is the name of the game, after all. He just has to keep you guessing long enough to make sure you’re taking care of yourself… without letting on that he’s keeping watch over two of you now.

Seungkwan has chosen a sports park for the monthly hangout, a classic Seungkwan move—something energetic, competitive, and likely to end in some hilarious disaster. Everyone’s in high spirits as they gather under the bright sun, ready to kick off the day with some casual sports. It's the perfect opportunity for some fun, but as usual, Jeonghan’s on a different wavelength.

Jeonghan prides himself on being subtle—too subtle, probably. He doesn’t want to overstep, doesn’t want to make you feel pressured, but his instincts are... well, Jeonghan instincts. And right now, they’re telling him something’s off.

There’s been too much of you skipping out on things, and while he would normally chalk it up to your “weird habits” or just you being you, today it’s starting to feel... different. You’ve been playing it off, pretending everything’s normal, but he can feel the change. And he's not about to let this slip by.

First, there was the iced Americano incident. The way you looked at him when he tried to take it away—it wasn’t just you rolling your eyes. You were trying to hide something. Then last night, at dinner, you hardly touched your drink, instead opting for water—water, for god’s sake. And now... here you are, standing way too still in the middle of a busy sports park, looking like you’d rather be anywhere else. Jeonghan is practically scanning your every move.

Seungkwan’s already yapping about his plan for a “friendly” soccer match, while the others are warming up on the sidelines. You’re laughing with the girls, joking about who’s going to be the first to get a goal past Seungkwan’s notoriously awful defense. It’s all very chill, very normal, but Jeonghan’s eyes keep darting to you. It’s subtle—he’ll give you that—but there’s a difference in the way you’re standing. 

Yeah. This is definitely it. You’re pregnant.

Jeonghan doesn’t even need to say it out loud. He knows. He knows in his gut. You're keeping it from him. The way you’ve been acting—it's obvious. You’re pregnant, and you’re hiding it. But he’s not about to make a scene. No. He’ll be subtle about this. He’ll protect you without you knowing he’s doing it. He’s not going to make you feel uncomfortable or pressured. He’ll just... look out for you.

He watches you take a sip from your water bottle, and the sight of you not reaching for something more exciting (like your usual iced Americano or even a bloody beer) sends alarm bells ringing in his head. No way. You’ve been on a healthy streak all day. Something’s wrong.

Slipping into the conversation as casually as he can manage, he leans on the edge of the table, giving you his most easygoing smile. "Hey, buddy," he says, eyes flicking to yours, a little too sharp.

Shit. There it is. “Buddy”—again. He’s almost positive you’ve caught him red-handed. His instincts are getting worse, and it’s almost like he can feel the sweat forming at the back of his neck.

You blink, confused, and he feels a little too caught off guard. Shit. Did he just say that out loud?

“What?”

“Just checking in,” Jeonghan continues smoothly, his tone dropping an octave. “You sure you’re alright to just... watch today? You know, I’ve been thinking, soccer is a little intense, don’t you think? It could be a lot on your body...”

You look at him, a little puzzled, probably trying to figure out what the hell he’s talking about. "It’s just a game, Jeonghan."

“Yeah,” he shrugs, trying to mask the panic that’s bubbling up. He needs to keep this light, keep it casual. "But still, with your... situation.” He trails off, forcing himself to look like he’s just making a suggestion.

You frown now, clearly starting to get suspicious.

Without waiting for you to question him further, he quickly slides into a new tactic. “You know, hydration’s important,” he says, snatching the water bottle from your hands and taking it upon himself to force it into your grip. "I think you should drink more water. It’s the best thing for you right now." He gives you an exaggerated smile, all teeth. “You’ll be just fine if you stay hydrated.”

You’re about to protest—he knows you are—but before you can get the words out, he quickly walks off, telling himself it’s fine, just fine. Keep it cool, Jeonghan. You’re fine.

But his mind is still working overtime, running through all the signs he’s seen—skipping drinks, staying still, not participating. And every single one of them is screaming the same thing.

You’re pregnant.

He glances back over his shoulder to check on you—thankfully, you’re still sitting, still sipping the water like the good little soldier he’s turning you into.

Suddenly, Seungcheol appears out of nowhere, grinning like a fool, pulling you away from the picnic table. “C’mon, babe, time to stretch those legs. Don’t tell me you’re already done being the cheerleader?”

Relief washes over Jeonghan, and he feels a knot in his chest loosen. There you go, Seungcheol, swooping in to save the day—taking you away from all the chaos he’s cooked up in his head. You’re in good hands. For now, at least.

Jeonghan watches as Seungcheol sweeps you into the crowd, joining the others on the field. He’s grateful—so grateful—that you haven’t caught on yet. Not yet.

The party is buzzing, the clinking of glasses and laughter filling the room as Seungcheol’s birthday kicks into high gear. It’s the usual mix of their close-knit friend group—Seungkwan, Mingyu, Vernon, Jihoon, and all the others—each in their own little bubble of conversation, but you? You’re standing off to the side with that damn glass of champagne in your hand, eyes glancing around, and there’s something about the way you’re holding it that has Jeonghan’s mind spinning.

You’re standing there like you belong to no one, not even yourself, but something about the way you keep looking at your glass makes him uneasy. Maybe it’s the way your fingers are wrapped around it too carefully, almost like you’re avoiding drinking. Or maybe it’s the way you keep glancing at Seungcheol, who’s busy chatting away with Mingyu and Vernon, like he’s not giving you enough attention. It’s hard to tell, but Jeonghan can’t shake the feeling something’s off.

Then it happens. The moment he’s been waiting for.

You raise the glass, like you’re about to toast. The sound of laughter and clinking glasses grows louder, and it’s like the whole room pauses. Jeonghan’s mind clicks into overdrive, his instincts kicking in, and before he even realizes what he’s doing, his hand is moving.

One smooth motion, and the champagne is in his hand, your glass no longer where it was just a second ago.

He doesn’t look at you when he does it. He doesn’t need to. He just takes it, like it’s nothing. Because, in his mind, it’s something. He’s doing you a favor, right? He’s looking out for you, protecting you from something—something you don’t even realize you need protection from.

Your frown is immediate. Your eyes narrow, and you turn to face him, the glass now mysteriously missing from your grasp.

“Jeonghan, what the hell?” Your voice is sharp, confused, but there’s an undertone of concern. And for a split second, Jeonghan feels his stomach tighten. He’s not sure if it’s nerves or guilt, but damn if it doesn’t feel like something.

He keeps his cool, though. It’s Jeonghan, after all. He doesn’t panic, doesn’t falter. He smiles, giving a shrug like this is no big deal. “I’m just trying to protect you,” he says, voice light, playful, even though there’s a certain tension in his shoulders that he can’t quite shake.

“Protect me?” You stare at him, eyes widening in disbelief. “From what?”

His heart beats a little faster now, because this—this is the moment. He knows he’s been right. He’s sure he’s been right. It’s been building up, the signs have been obvious, and if he doesn’t stop you now, he could be too late.

“Pregnant people can’t have alcohol,” Jeonghan says, his tone turning a little more serious, but he’s still keeping it light. Too light. He barely catches the way your brow furrows as you process his words.

You blink at him, the confusion settling into something far more incredulous. “Okay, thank you for that little factoid,” you say, your voice laced with sarcasm. “Who’s pregnant?”

Jeonghan can feel his pulse picking up, his gaze darting nervously from you to the champagne in his hand. Maybe he’s just being paranoid, but you look like you know. You’ve caught him. You’ve noticed the signs, and this is it. He’s been caught red-handed.

“You are?” Jeonghan’s voice comes out in a high-pitched squeak, the words tumbling out of him before he can stop them. He doesn’t even recognize the tone of his own voice—he just knows that this is the moment he’s been dreading and, somehow, waiting for.

And then you start laughing. Laughing.

It’s loud, it’s spontaneous, and it fills the entire room. Your shoulders shake with it, your face turning pink with the force of your amusement. And for the first time since he walked in, Jeonghan feels like a damn idiot. A total idiot.

“WHAT?” Jeonghan can barely get the word out before he realizes what he’s said, and now, you’re laughing even harder, clutching your stomach like it’s the funniest thing that’s ever happened to you.

Seungcheol’s head whips around from where he’s talking to Mingyu and Vernon, his curiosity piqued by the sound of your laughter. You’re still giggling, though, and Jeonghan watches in utter confusion as Seungcheol’s grin slowly spreads across his face.

“What are we laughing about?” Seungcheol asks, his voice thick with amusement, his arm sliding around your waist as he walks over to you.

Your laughter is still uncontrollable, and you’re leaning into Seungcheol as if this is the funniest thing that’s ever happened. “Jeonghan over here thinks I’m pregnant,” you say between laughs, and Jeonghan feels a lump form in his throat.

It doesn’t make sense. It doesn’t make sense.

Seungcheol starts laughing too, looking from you to Jeonghan like he’s just stumbled across some inside joke. His arm around your waist tightens, and he pulls you onto his lap with that effortless strength of his. You’re still giggling, though now, you’re half sitting on Seungcheol’s lap, your face buried in his neck, clearly enjoying the chaos you’ve unleashed.

Jeonghan is standing there like he’s been hit by a truck. His brain’s scrambling to catch up. Wait, this isn’t what he thought was happening, is it?

“You’re not...?” Jeonghan stammers. His voice is a little too high, like he’s a kid who just learned that Santa isn’t real. You're not pregnant?

You wipe the tears from your eyes, finally able to speak. “Pregnant? No, Jeonghan, why would you think that?”

Jeonghan’s hand tightens around the champagne glass, his mind replaying every little thing he’d witnessed over the last week. The water at dinner, the soccer game, the way you were avoiding alcohol— it all clicks into place, and he can feel the weight of his mistake crushing down on him. “But at the bar—the whole ‘it’s your choice, you can do whatever you want’ thing?” Jeonghan’s voice cracks slightly, but he keeps going. “And the drinking water at dinner last week instead of wine? And the not playing soccer?”

You just stare at him, eyes wide with disbelief, but this time, there’s a trace of sympathy in them. “Jeonghan,” you say, a little quieter now, “our lease is up. We were stressed about finding a new place to live. That’s why I didn’t drink, and the whole soccer thing? I had a cold that day.”

Seungcheol, still holding you on his lap, leans in with a grin. “Dude, she had to drive us home,” he adds, voice full of playful exasperation. “And she was sick that day. You seriously thought she was pregnant?”

Jeonghan blinks a couple of times, like the whole world has just shifted. The understanding starts to dawn on him, slow and painful. Oh. He almost wants to bury his face in his hands. “Right. Oh.”

“Yeah, OH,” you say, still chuckling. “Now, give me back my drink so I can drink to my beautiful, spectacular husband, whose baby I am NOT carrying.”

Seungcheol laughs and presses a quick kiss to your temple, his arms tightening around you as he looks over at Jeonghan with a smirk. “Don’t worry, Jeonghan. She’s not pregnant. But I’ll take the champagne now. You can go ahead and get her some water, though. She might still need it after all that laughing.”

Jeonghan lets out a long breath, his face a mix of embarrassment and relief, and finally hands your champagne back to you, though he looks like he wants to sink into the floor. “Right. Right. You’re welcome. No baby. Got it.”

You raise your glass toward Seungcheol with a grin, finally able to focus on the toast you’ve been trying to make all evening. “To my incredible, perfect husband—who, I assure you, I’m not pregnant with.”

Jeonghan, though, is standing off to the side, looking like he just got hit with a truck. He rubs his temples, muttering to himself. He’s definitely not going to live this one down. Not today, not ever.

[jd-loves-fiction]

Hello hello :3

I'm not sure if you take platonic requests so if you get to mine and you don't, pls lmk <3

Anyway. I would like to request platonic Boothill, Sampo, Mydei (if you can't write him yet then it's okay) and the Astral Express crew (you can leave out characters if it's too much) with a reader who is a former slave like Aventurine but they escaped by force and now respond to certain gestures with violence. Think about it like a wounded animal you're trying to approach. They lash out, bite, scratch, attack, anything.

🌑hello dear welcome!! I do take platonic requests 🫡and you can request as many characters as you want just know the more there are the longer I'll take😅 also I love love this idea 👀👀

✦ 𝐁𝐨𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐥𝐥 ✦

Ooh he gets it

You can't exactly hurt him, given the metal body, but even if you try he won't hold it against you

The circumstances might not be the same but he undoubtedly became a different, not violent, man after what the IPC did to his planet

Plus being a galaxy ranger is a lonely existence by design

He respects your need to distance yourself from people

But I feel there's a nurturing side to Boothill he doesn't get to tap into very often

So there's a part of him that will try to comfort you? Relate to you? He doesn't know what he's doing himself but something in his heart breaks for you and pulls him towards you

One stubborn fella about helping you but quite sturdy, let's say he's the guy letting the dog bite him to get its anger out and know that he can be trusted 🥺

✦ 𝐒𝐚𝐦𝐩𝐨 ✦

Menace I love him

Sampo is a con-man salesman - he wants to know everyone's secrets so that he can exploit them for his benefit

But there's some lines even he won't cross

He's got a soft heart somewhere in there (deep in there) so you can expect that he'll go easy on you when he comes to his scheming

Plus he knows how to calculate risk, so if messing with you is highly likely to get him fucked up, he won't try you... Too much

Another man whose life wasn't exactly easy (which is why he's the way he is) and with a soft spot for people with a similarly difficult past

I think he'd find his own way of showing companionship, implying that you can talk to him about stuff if you want (tho he won't blame you for thinking he's just trying to get to your secrets) and stuff like that. He'll just be very subtle about how honest he's being

Let's say he's the guy slowly leaving treats for the dog and pretending like he doesn't care if it likes him or not (he really does, he's incredibly intrigued)

✦ 𝐌𝐲𝐝𝐞𝐢 ✦

New character so bear with me

I feel like you're very similar in this way

He's got a heart of gold under all that aggression, specially when it comes to his people

He's just bad at expressing it in a gentle way😅

His childhood was... Traumatic to say the least, violence is all he knows

Another sturdy guy, he's literally immortal and seems to enjoy a good fight so hitting him in any way might just start a sparring session💀

If he doesn't know you, he wouldn't engage, he's got better things to worry about

But if he does, you might get to see a gentleness from him no one thought him capable of

He's a patient man but he genuinely wants to see you learn to live with your trauma like him

I don't think he's done healing, mind you, but you might be able to learn something from each other about living with your demons

✦ 𝐖𝐞𝐥𝐭 ✦

So much father energy LORD

The way he just immediately takes Sunday under his wing? Guiding him gently and patiently? That's a dad right there

He's deeply altruistic so he will try to help you please don't fight it😭

He's canonically one of the strongest characters so don't worry about hurting him. The fact that you even had to live through what you did, hurts him much more

Gentle but insistent, is how I'd describe him

He will not give up on you no matter what and that is a promise

When and if you decide to open up, he's a great listener

But even if you don't, he'll be there always🫡 because he genuinely just wants to see you be happy

✦ 𝐇𝐢𝐦𝐞𝐤𝐨 ✦

A fearless woman if I ever saw one

On the express she mostly keeps to herself, y'know navigating

But she undoubtedly cares deeply about the team so if you're part of it (let's say you are) you're included in that sentiment

She's not exactly... Motherly, per say, but she does care. She's just a bit... Awkward about it?

The type to do things like invite you to have coffee with her (don't drink it), or offer to teach you about navigating and stuff like that, just try to make you feel included

Not the type to outright ask about what happened but will listen if you tell her and will not judge - she doesn't see anything wrong with the way you handled things (Sunday train flashbacks)

Knows you're capable of protecting yourself, but will become somewhat protective of you

Tries to avoid setting you off as much as possible, she can hold her own no problem but she'd feel terrible if she hurt you in some way

✦ 𝐌𝐚𝐫𝐜𝐡 𝟕𝐭𝐡 ✦

Sunshine incarnate

Might come off as overly friendly upon first meeting so if that sets you off well... she'll learn her lesson... maybe

Doesn't remember her past so if you don't wanna talk about yours it's all good with her

But if you do, she's a surprisingly good listener

Tho if you decide to be rude or aggressive to push her away, she'll definitely take it to heart, at first

She'll mope about it for a bit before her determination takes over

She wants to be your friend damnit 😡

She'll call you out for being rude but stick around regardless

She's got thicker skin than expected and she's hard to shake off (like a puppy...) if she decides she wants to be your friend, that's what she's gonna do

Plus after that first time, being rude to push her away won't work, she'll just talk right over you

In the end, she might just win you over through sheer determination 😭

✦ 𝐃𝐚𝐧 𝐇��𝐧𝐠 ✦

Oh he cares so much bless him

Dan Heng is extremely protective of those he's close to

If you're in the express, you're immediately included in that

Quiet comfort is his thing

Like sitting together quietly because you just need some company while he reads or even offering a game of chess as a distraction

Doesn't blame you for how you react, but if you become physically dangerous to be around he will be the first to restrain you

Just because he gets it doesn't mean he likes seeing the people around him get hurt

I feel like he's got some words of wisdom regarding how to make peace with your past

But beyond that he's good to have around because he doesn't push for answers at all

Nobody knew about his past when he came onto the express so he'd be kind of a hypocrite if he cared

It's inevitable that he becomes attached and when he does he becomes just as protective with you as with any other member of the express, regardless of your past

[sdmnpact]

Late Night Antics

wroetoshaw x reader fluff, suggestive

~~~

You were laying in your boyfriend's bed scrolling through your Instagram feed. Nothing new, nothing entertaining. It was quite late already and you were waiting for Harry to finish playing Among us with the boys. You always loved watching him play because he was always got so passionate about it. You loved listening to his cute laugh whenever they caught someone in the act or even his frustration when he gets voted out for no reason. You were bored right now though because he was the first to die so this whole time was just him as a ghost.

"Alright boys, I'll talk to you tomorrow." He said as he left the call, taking out his earphones. "All done baby?" You asked as he stood up to stretch. You watched as he stretched his arms flexing his muscles and you couldn't help but stare at them.

"What." He smiled giving a breathy little laugh. "Nothing just admiring your beauty." You giggled. He walked over to the bed and tackled you lightly wrapping his arms around you. He began kissing your face all over making you laugh. You cupped his cheeks making him stop and took in his features. His soft clear eyes staring into yours, his messy blonde hair falling slightly over his forehead. You loved this man so much and you knew he deeply loved you. It was a sweet moment, the warmth of being in each others company. Just you two and no one else.

"Are you tired yet?" He asked as he began standing up. You felt sadden by the loss of his warmth.

"Not really, why?"

"Me neither, maybe we can do something like watch netflix?"

"Nah I don't wanna watch anything... how about we bake?"

"Bake? It's 2:23!" Harry shriek. You gave him your famous puppy dog eyes that you know he can't resist.

"Okay fine." He gave in going back to the bed to hug you.

~~~

You two made your way towards the kitchen in Harry's flat. It was small but big enough for two people. You aren't the best baker but you do enjoy it from time to time. You had previously bought supplies and ingredients so they could stay in his flat on the whim that you decided to bake something. Sometimes it's almost like you live with him. You two have been dating for about three years now so you're very comfortable with each other, spending most of your days at either your place or his.

You took out all the ingredients to make homemade cookies. You didn't know how to make many recipes but you knew how to make your favorite cookies. Everyone always raved about them and you know Harry absolutely loves them. He doesn't really enjoy cooking but he loves spending time with you, so much so that he even bought matching aprons for when you decide to spontaneously bake something like tonight. You watched as he took the aprons from the rack, walking over to you and putting it around your neck. You looked up at him with a goofy little smile on his face as he went around you to tie the apron. Not too tight but just enough for it to fit snuggly on your waist.

He put his on, tying it on his own. You put your hair up in a pony tail and Harry took this opportunity to wrap his arms around your waist. You put your hands on his as he squeezed you from behind. "You know I adore you, right?" he said in a deep voice giving you goosebumps at the vibration running though your body.

You turned around to face him wrapping your arms around his neck giving him a soft kiss. "I know." you said kissing his lips again. He wanted to continue but you pulled away leaving a small frown on his face.

"First we bake!" You said excitedly going over to the sink to wash your hands. He came over and began washing his as well giving you a little hip bump. You scoff in playful annoyance as you bumped him back harder causing him to stumble back a bit. He looked at you faking a hurt expression splashing some water in your face. You gasped as the semi cold water droplets hit your face. You soaked your hands then placed them on both sides of his face making him wince at the cold touch.

"Okay okay, truce." He let out a breathy laugh. You nodded as you began drying your hands on the hand towel. "Okay so first we mix the wet ingredients and dry ingredients separately." You began listing off directions as he gave all his attention to you, staring at you lovingly.

You two got to work making the dough. Harry managed to drop a couple of eggs, and you two ended up covered in flour, but other than that, things ended up quite successful. Harry watched intensely as you rolled the dough out. You seemed so concentrated in what you were doing that you didn't notice him pull out his phone and snap a few pictures of you.

"Harry stop!!" You whined as you didn't feel your prettiest at the moment.

"Aw don't worry baby, you look adorable, I want to save this memory." He smiled snapping a million more photos. "Okay, well what if I want to remember this moment of you standing there not helping?" You snickered as you began pulling out your phone. He took your phone from you and held both of them, aiming both cameras towards you.

"What now?" He said with a smug look on his face. You frowned but walked over to him kissing his lips then his jaw, leading down to his neck. He let out a soft moan as you left small kisses all over his neck taking this moment to snag your phone back.

"What! That's not fair."

"Life's not fair." You giggled, taking pictures of him. He tried reaching, but you placed your phone in the air as if he wasn't taller than you and was unable to reach it.

"Oh so we're playing that game." He quickly grabbed your waist, making you yelp at the sudden touch and placed you onto the counter. He stood between both of your legs causing you to wrap them around him. With one hand on your waist, he used the other to hold your jaw. He began kissing your neck like you had done to him earlier. His kisses were rougher, more hungry that your soft ones. You let out a moan and he began sucking on your neck causing you to melt at the sense of his warm mouth on your skin.

He hands now exploring your body while your hands made their way towards his hair, tugging on it lightly allowing a soft moan to escape his lips.

Suddenly you pushed him away.

"Not yet." You said once again leaving him with a yearn for more of you and your body.

You placed the now shaped cookies in the oven and waited for them to bake. Harry made his advances as the two of you waited but each time you rejected him causing him to whine while you just laughed.

Finally the ding of the oven and the smell of freshly baked cookies filled the room. You carefully took them out and placed them on the cooling rack. Harry helped you transfer the cookies from the rack to the plate after they cooled down a bit.

You both grabbed a cookie and took a big bite finally being able to indulge in the sweet creation you two were brewing up for the last hour. "Oh my god." Harry said as he took another bite. "They're incredible, all thanks to me." He chuckled as you shot him a glare. "Okay, mostly you but they seriously are amazing." You smiled in content as you watched your boyfriend scarf down two more cookies.

You wrapped your hands around his waist, giving him a peck on his lips, the sweetness of the cookies still lingering.

"Now."

---

A/n

Sorry for the spam of imagines. I used to have a miniminter imagines book and they were so much fun to write. Pls lmk if you have any ideas for one, my chat's always open! And as always I hope you enjoyed!!

[broareweabouttoviberightnow]

"I dunno. A car it's like... like I dunno I guess like," Steve bites his lip, leans back over the hood of his glorious beater he's been lovingly, 'n often painstakingly, fixin' up. There's a hotness burnin' up the back of his throat that pisses him off to no end. He shuts his eyes, runs a hand over his face, tries again.

"Like, when you work with a car there's just- like- there's kinda these-ugh!" Steve scowls. There are tears of frustration burnin' up behind his eyes 'n that just pisses him off more. He knows what he's trying to say so why can't he just say it.

"Take your time, man." Soda tilts his head to the side, absentmindedly pulls a thread out of his DX shirt. He's not like most guys Steve knows. The kind that make him feel like there was somethin' fuckin' wrong with him for needin' a minute to put his words in order. Or the kind that politely looked away when hot tears stacked up behind his eyes. No, Soda looked right at him like he had all the time in the world 'n he was spendin' it on purpose with Steve. Just waitin' on him to say what he meant.

God. Sometimes Steve felt like the luckiest guy alive. But then Soda leans over 'n steals the last bite of Steve's hotdog 'n the effect is mildy ruined.

Steve pulls his knees up across the hood 'n rests his head back on the windshield. He can feel the Tusla sun beatin' down even through his DX shirt. It had been a slow day. A Thursday in the middle of August when the end of summer clung to everythin' 'n hung heavy 'n slow in the air.

"When you're workin' on a car, only half of it is knowin'. You gotta be able to sorta sense some of it." Steve wrinkles his nose, shakes his head. "Does that make any sense?"

He peeks around his leg to see Soda. He's layin' flat on his back on the car parked beside Steve's. A beetle bug that they were supposed to be replacing the oil valve gasket in. But it would be a quick job 'n even Soda wasn't immune to the way August made you want to just sit still for a moment. The hood on Soda's was significantly more sloped 'n he kept almost slidin' off. But when Steve looks over Soda's got his head to the side, blinkin' at Steve, blonde hair fallin' in waves around his eyes.

"Oh. Like a horse." Soda nods to himself, almost slides right off onto his ass again.

"Huh?" Steve sits up, raises an eyebrow 'n Soda slips off the front, clambers onto Steve's beater.

"Like a horse." Soda's grinnin' wide with all his teeth like only Soda can.

"Ok. Wanna elaborate?" Steve have never gotten into the rodeo thing as much as Soda had. He'd go, sure. Hell, he'd ridden once or twice but he was never like Soda. He had loved those things. Well. Until.

"When you're ridin' a horse, right? You can't think about it like you 'n the horse are two separate things. The second you do that, that horse is gonna realize it don't want you on it one bit. You gotta sense what it wants. What it needs. 'Cause the horse sure as hell ain't gonna tell you. I figure, it's the same with a car, right? Like, sure, you can teach someone how to ride but they gotta have that extra somethin' that makes you good at it. You can teach any loser to fix a part but it takes somethin' to be a mechanic. Right?"

Steve blinks at Soda. Once, twice. Soda's eyes are bright 'n focused like they always are when he talks about ridin'.

"Yeah, somethin' like that."

"Well, that makes sense. You put that real good Stevie." And Steve snorts 'n doesn't remind him one bit that it was him that put it all together.

Soda grins at him, worries his lip, 'n slouches back down. "I miss it. Y'know?"

And Steve does know. 'Cause whatever you needed to go all the way? Soda had it. Soda absently runs his thumb around his kneecap, frowns.

That was the problem with these slow August days. They were fit for rememberin' even when you didn't want to.

"Hey, Steve?" Soda folds legs up under him, pushes his bangs from his eyes.

"Yeah, Sodapop?"

"I think you got it. Whatever it is. You're gonna make it big time. One day I'm gonna turn around 'n you're gonna be on the front of one of them car magazines." Steve's heart does a sudden, violent ache.

"Yeah, I'll be the girlie in the bikini, draped over some hot rod." Steve leans back on the windshield again, drops a hand to his forehead.

"Nah, that's my job. Lemme be the arm candy, it's all I'm good for." 'N Soda's grinnin' 'n laughin' but it's not funny. Really.

A car pulls into the DX 'n Soda slides off the hood 'n goes to take their gas. Two kids clamber out, hay clingin' to their clothes, wreakin' like a stable 'n huge grins plastered on their faces. Soda pulls up short, mid-step.

Steve hurries to catch up with him. Soda's got this kind of, longin' in his eyes, his smile waverin'. Steve puts a hand between his shoulder blades 'n Soda's grin pulls right back up at the corners like a puppet.

"Shame they ain't girlies, could have gotten a real sweet tip." Soda starts back up again, takin' long lopin' steps.

"Hey Soda!" Soda stops, spins halfway around. "Some people get it for one thing. Cars or horses or writin' or whatever. Whatever you got Soda? It's better than all that shit. 'Cause you don't fix up cars. You fix up people."

Soda blinks at him. "You didn't stutter or nothin'."

"I didn't." Soda tilts his head, the boys in the car hit their horn, a song blasts from a passin' truck, the sun beats down.

"Like horses?" Soda's hair is like a halo in the light, his eyes big 'n waitin'.

"Like horses."

[samanthacastano02]

Seungmin - Christmas Love (18+)

Seungmin x FemReader

Warnings: Smut, PnV, Unprotected sex (Don’t do(Use protection)), Breeding Kink, Oral (fem rec), Making love, Fingering, talks of pregnancy, reader is pregnant in epilogue (epilogue isn't important to the story so you don't have to read it, you wont miss anything important, just some banter between all the members), Cursing, probably more, MDNI 18+

Photos not mine, credits go to the photographers

Word Count: 4845

Summary: Seungmin comes home from doing his Chanel photoshoot, his outfit turns you on to no end. You decide to take things to the bedroom, having fun with each other. Things take a romantic turn and you and Seungmin forgo the condom. (I have no idea to write a summary for this) 

Minors Do Not Interact

It was late but I knew that Seungmin would be home soon from his Chanel photoshoot. He had said that I could go with him but my week had been busy and I wanted to stay home and relax for a little while. I knew that he was slightly disappointed but would never hold that against me, and there was always next time. I was lounging on the couch watching a random k-drama when he walked through the front door, slipping off the nice dress shoes he had on and slipping on his house slippers. When he walked into the living room he stopped in shock when he saw that I was still awake, I was so engrossed into the show that I hadn’t even heard him come home. 

“Love what are you still doing awake?”

“Jesus Seungminnie, you scared me, warn a girl.”

“Sorry love. Must be a good show if you’re that into it.” he said as he walked over to the couch, lifting me up gently while sitting down, cuddling me into him. He may seem off standish with his band members but this man hates to not have some type of skinship with me.

“It’s very good, how was the shoot? I love the outfit that they have you in.”

“It was good, I knew that you would love it.” he said while kissing my forehead.

“Stay’s going to go crazy when they see it, you know that right?” “Oh, I know that. The stylist and I were joking about that while we were leaving. Did I tell you that her boyfriend finally proposed?” “Finally?! After what, seven years?” 

“Yep, she said that she was going to send us a wedding invite whenever they get the wedding date set.”

“I’m excited and happy for her. She deserves to have the best day ever, she's been a godsend for dealing with your dumbass for the last four years.”

“My wife must hate me.” he feigned dramatically

“Minnie, you are so dramatic.” I kissed his cheek, he feigned being upset by shoving his face into my neck. 

“Why must you hate me?”

“You’re a dork.” ‘But I’m your dork.” he kissed my neck repeatedly.

“Minnie stop that tickles.” “Never, I'm gonna do it even more now.” he continues to kiss my neck, I try to wiggle out of his arms to escape but in the process he tightens his arms around me.

“Minnie.” I sigh on accident when he kisses my sweet spot.

“You're a tease, wiggling.”

“You’re the one who was kissing me, I was just trying to escape.” I try to defend myself as he slowly continues kissing my neck, no longer in a teasing manner. I tilt my head back, giving him better access.

“Mhm, sure.” he begins to kiss my neck to my jaw. Slowly my body was getting more and more heated. 

“Seungmin please.”

“Please what, my love.” “I want more.” “More what?”

“You're going to make me say it aren’t you.”

“Always.” “I want you. Can we please move this to the bedroom?” I whine into his chest, trying to hide my face from him.

“Of course my love.” He grabs my chin gently, tilting my head up towards him. He kisses my lips softly. Before I can even respond he’s standing up with me in his arms and walking us towards our bedroom. I lean my head on his shoulder, pressing soft kisses to the exposed skin as his shirt moves. 

When we enter the bedroom he gently lays me on the bed, he stares down at me with so much love and compassion that it brings tears to my eyes because I know that this man would do anything for me and I would do anything for him. He gently crawls onto the bed over top of me, looking at me deep in the eyes. 

“You are so beautiful Jagi.”

“Minnie, I love you.” I blush brightly at his words. 

“I love you, beautiful. Can I take this off?” He tugs at my sweatshirt, that happened to actually be his, that I had been wearing.

“Yes, please.” I respond quickly, he soon wastes no time in dragging the sweatshirt over my head and throwing it somewhere across the room, knowing that we’ll find it in the morning. 

“God I can never get enough of your body, do you see what you do to me?” he asks me, he pushes his hips into me to prove his point even more. I grab onto the sides of his shirt, hinting that I want it off. With quick work he drags it over his head, leaving him in his black dress pants and me in my sweats. 

“If stays were in my position, they’d lose their ever loving mind. I don’t think they’d be able to handle how hot you are.” I say while tugging on the necklaces that he still had on, wanting to kiss him. He was blushing fiercely, hiding his face in my neck again, leaving open mouthed kisses. 

“No one but you gets to see me this way, this is a privilege only meant for you my love.” he begins leaving kisses down my body. Starting at my cheek and working his way down to my neck and ending at my sweatpants right above my pantie line. 

“My love, can I take these off?” he gently tugged at the hem of my sweats.

“Yes, please baby please.”

With quick work he tugged them off, quickly throwing them behind him. They disappeared so quickly that I couldn’t help but laugh a little. Seungmin looked up at me while I was laughing, he didn’t know what I was laughing at but he started laughing with me. 

“My love, what are we laughing at?”

“Just at how eager you were to take off my pants.”

“I mean can you blame me, you have on my favorite pair of your panites. Your lacie black pair, it’s like you wanted me to ruin you tonight.” “I mean maybe I wanted to get lucky tonight, but not necessarily ruined.”

“Love, you know that any time you wear these, you're getting ruined.” I look at him, laugh and roll my eyes at him. He just smirks at me and begins to leave kisses up the sides of my thighs. 

“You know, it’s not fair that I’m pantsless while you still have pants on.”

“If you wanted me to take my pants off all you had to do was ask.” He smirked at me while standing up to take off his dress pants. When he slid them off, his arousal became much more prominent. 

“Shut up and come here.” I make grabby hands at him, he just chuckles at me and climbs back over me, nudging my legs apart so that he can slot his hips between them. He gently rests his hips at the apex of my thighs, allowing me to actually feel just how turned on he is. 

He leans down and begins to kiss me, wrapping his arms around me. I feel him unclip my bra with one hand, so I arch my back so that he can remove it which leaves me only in my panties. As we continue to kiss he begins to grind himself into me, causing both of us to moan out in pleasure.

“Seungmin please, I want more.”

“What do you want?”

“I want you.” “You gotta be specific, love.”

“Anything, just please do something.” he seems to get an idea, as he begins to kiss down to my panties. Soon he reaches my panty line but skips over them and begins kissing my thighs, starting at my knee and kissing up until he's almost at where I want him before stopping and then he switches over to the other leg, kissing up that leg until he stops just shy of where I want him.

“What do you want my love?”

“I want your mouth, please.” “Can I take these off?” he tugs at my panties.

“Yes, god please.”

I think he’s gonna take them off with his hands but he shocks me by biting the top of them with his teeth and dragging them down before finally pulling them off and spreading me wide for him. He looks at me like I’m his next meal and I begin to shake with excitement because I know what’s to come. He throws my panties across the room to where the rest of our clothes are and then looks up at me for permission, I give him a quick nod. That’s all he needs before he dives in, his mouth immediately attaches to my clit. He sucks it into his mouth, licking at it and prodding at my entrance before moving back to my clit. He eats me out like it’s his last meal, he knows all of the right places and it feels so good that I can’t keep quiet even if I tried, not that I want to. I soon feel fingers prodding at my entrance, before they push into me. He angles his fingers just right that it’s hitting my sweet spot, making me see stars. I moan loudly at the pleasure that he’s bringing me, he never gives me his cock before making me finish on his fingers and tongue, both he and I don’t enjoy quickies so we don’t do anything unless we have time for it. That doesn’t mean that we don’t tease each other though. Soon I hear him moaning along with me and I muster up enough strength to look down at him between my legs and see that he is grinding himself down on the bed while eating me out, I moan out loudly at that. He has always gotten off on bringing pleasure, he always said that my pleasure was his pleasure. He could always finish just by making me finish. He repeatedly hit my sweet spot and soon I could feel the pressure in my stomach building to its peak, I knew that I was close.

“Oh god Seugnmin. I’m close, please don’t stop.” at that he seemed to suck harder but kept his fingers going at the same pace. There was a new feeling and I felt like I had to pee, I tried to push his head away but he wouldn’t budge. 

“Seungmin!” I moan his name loudly as I finish, squirting all over his mouth and chin. He pulls away from me with a lazy smile. 

“Minnie, I’m so sorry.”

“Baby, why are you sorry?” “I don’t know what my body just did.”

“Baby, you just squirted.”

“What!”

“It’s ok, it was hot as fuck.” I didn’t have a response for him, so I just leaned up, kissing him on the lips. Tasting myself as he deepened the kiss, pushing me back so that I was laying down again. He came to hover over me again, he looked like a god over me. 

“Do you want to continue?” “Yes, please.”

With my response he got off of the bed and took off his underwear, his cock sprang free and smacked his lower stomach. No matter how many times we have sex, I always get excited by how big he is. He’s big and he knew how to use it, and he had the stamina of a dancer and could go for hours if he wanted to. He began to walk over to the nightstand, reaching for the box of condoms that we kept there but I grabbed his wrist before he could pull the drawer open. 

“Love?” “What if we maybe didn’t use a condom tonight?” “But you aren’t on any form of birth control?” He asked, confused.

“I know, I was sort of thinking. We’ve been married for two years, it might be nice to have a little you or me.” “Are you saying what I think your saying?” “I want to start trying for a family Seungmin.” I say hopeful. “Really?” “Yes, I know it’s a big decision. I know we haven’t talked about it much, it’s ok if you don’t want to or aren’t ready. Forget I mentioned anything.” I panicked, reaching for the drawer with the condoms and began to pull one out but he grabbed my wrist stopping me.

“My love, if you are sure, I would love nothing more than to have a family with you.” he looked into my eyes to see if there was any doubt, but he didn’t find any.

“I’m sure Seungmin, I want this with you. I know that you are still touring but Chan has offered time and time again for me to join you guys and the guys would probably be over the moon to have me on tour, and when the baby got here they’d be the best uncles.” “”If you’re sure, then so am I.” He got onto the bed, kissing me sweetly. 

“I’m sure Seungmin.”

With that he slowly positioned his cock head at my entrance, he locked eyes with me as he pushed himself into me. The stretch of him shocked me everytime, he still went slow, going inch by inch until his hips were flush with mine. He dropped down to his elbows, sliding his hands under my head but keeping his arms out to support himself, it was soon obvious that this wasn’t going to be fast and rough like our usually fucking. It was going to be sweet and slow, not fucking but love making. He was looking into my eyes with so much love that it took my breath away. 

“God, y/n I love you so much.”

“I love you Seungmin. You can move.” With that he slowly began to pull out, pulling out until only the tip of him was left, before he slowly thrust back into me. He thrust hard enough that it felt good but not hard enough that it would be considered hard fucking

“You feel so good, so tight.” “You're so deep.” 

“You take me so we.” He pressed down on my stomach, intensifying the pleasure for both of us. At the same time we both moaned when he thrust into me.

“Seungmin!” I moan out loudly. He picks up the pace a little, but not by much enough that the bed is rocking into the wall.

He continues to thrust into me, focusing on making me finish before he finishes. He sucks love bites into the side of my neck and top of my chest. The pleasure was so intense that I could barely keep my eyes open but I wanted to see everything that he was doing to me, but soon it became too much and my head fell back. 

“You are so beautiful like this y/n, you’ll look so beautiful with my baby.”

“Seungminnie you can’t talk like that.”

“Why, you gonna finish too fast?” He snaps his hips hard into me, teasingly.

“Minnie.” I moan into his ear. “I’m going to pump you so full of cum it’ll have no choice but to stick.”

“Please! Please Minnie, I want it.”

“Yeah? You wanna be my good girl, wanna be my baby mama?”

“Yes! I’ll be so good for you.” “I know you will baby, I want to go slow but I’m so close. Are you close, baby?”

“I’m so close, please Seungmin.” I beg him, wanting him to finish. 

“Can I go hard, just for the last bit?” “Please baby!”

With my permission he snaps his hips even harder into me, picking up the pace even more. He is thrusting so hard into me now that my body is being forced up the bed, not that either of us care at this point in time. We are both so close that the only thing that either of us can care about is reaching that finish line together. I want to reach it with him, so I reach my hand between our bodies and begin to rub my clit, bringing myself closer to finishing. My body begins to shake and that's my tell tale sign that I’m close so I remove my hand and grab both of Sungmin's, which he pins above my head. He thrusts hard into me, rapid and frantic, but oh so good. It takes three more thrusts before we finish together, with a cry of each other's names. As he comes down from his high, he stays inside of me but flips me so that I am laying on top of him, he is worried that I might enter subdrop, he scoots us over to the side of the bed and reaches for the glass of water I randomly had there left over from last night. He sits me up and has me slowly drink from it, before slowly pulling out of me. After seeing that i’m not going to enter a sub drop he lays me down on the bed and walks into the bathroom, as my eyes sleepily close I can hear the bath water running. 

When I next wake up, I’m cuddled in Seungmins arms in bed while he’s scrolling aimlessly on his phone. I must have fallen asleep and he must have bathed me and gotten me into a new set of pajamas before changing himself. When he notices that I’m awake he puts his phone down and smiles at me, giggling to himself.

“Going raw for the first time must have done a number on you baby.” “Why do you say that?”

“You fell asleep before I could even get you into the bath.” He chuckled quietly.

“I mean, it was a new feeling. Which felt amazing by the way.” “It did, I don’t know how we’ve gone this long without trying it.” “Me either, but we don’t have to worry about going back to condoms for a while, right?” I ask him, hopeful.

“If you were serious about wanting a baby, then so was I. I want what you want, baby.” “I want a baby with you Seungmin. I think you would make such a great father.” “And I think that you would make such a great mother.” With that he tugs me down under the covers more, and I can feel myself get tired again. We both drift off into dreamland holding each other and dreaming of the future. 

Epilogue 

It’s been two months of trying and after last month's negative test, it was hard to want to keep trying, the excitement of it all was now scary. What if you couldn’t get pregnant, what if there was something wrong with me. Seungmin sat on the couch with Me while you cried and voiced my worries, but he kept reassuring me that you would keep trying until it happened, and if it didn’t happen, then we could always talk about other options. 

I was hopeful but I didn’t want to be because I had been feeling sick and my period was a week late. I hadn’t mentioned anything to Seungmin yet because I knew that he was preparing for a comeback and I didn’t want him to also worry about me even if he said that was his job as my husband. I knew that with my period being a week late I needed to take a test but I wanted to wait until he was home. As soon as he walked in the door, I mentioned it to him.

“Minnie, I think I need to take another test.” I said to Seungmin once he got settled in from coming home from the studio for the day.

“Why do you say that, my love?”

“My period is a week late.”

“It is?” He asks me with a hopeful gleam in his eye.

“Yes. I wanted to wait until you were home though, to take the test.”

“Well, I’m here now my love.” he kissed my head.

“I’ll go take it.” I said nervously 

I walked past him into our bedroom, ready to take the test, having to use the restroom for the better half of the day but not wanting to take the test without him and scared that if I went I wouldn’t be able to go again when he got home even though logically I would be able to. I quickly peed into a cup, wanting to be able to take more than one test. I know the web said it’s better to wait until the morning to take the test but I couldn’t wait that long, nerves and excitement were getting the better of me. After I dipped the plethora of tests into the cup, I dumped the rest out and washed my hands, before calling Seungmin into the bathroom. I didn’t want to wait for the results alone. He heard me call him and rushed into the bathroom, he obviously didn’t quite know how pregnancy tests worked. 

“Do you have the results?” He asked me excitedly.

“Not yet baby, I just didn’t want to wait alone, I’m nervous.” I wrapped my arms around his waist.

“Ah, it’s ok my love. Whatever the results are, we will get through it, ok?” He wrapped his arms around me tightly, kissing my head. He led me over to the side of the bathtub, sitting on the edge before pulling me onto his lap. He knew that I had set a timer already.

“I know, I just want this so badly.” “I know, so do I. It’ll happen when it’s meant to happen.” “I know, I just hope that it’s meant to happen now.”

“I do too, my love.”

“I love you Seungmin.” “And I love you y/n.” he kissed me gently. 

As we wait for the timer to go off we sit together in silence and hold each other. The silence isn’t awkward, it’s peaceful and comforting because we both know that no matter what happens we will both be there for each other. Before we both knew it the five minutes were up, the box said three but I set the timer for five to give Seungmin and I an extra two minutes to prepare ourselves for whatever the outcome may be. Seungmin gently taps my bottom to signal me to stand up so that he can check the test for me, knowing that I’m too nervous to do it, I quickly stand up and walk with him over to the counter where the tests are. He stops in front of them, turning towards me, hugging me tightly before grabbing one of the tests. He looks at me for confirmation to see if I’m ready or not, when he sees that I nod at him he flips the test over. 

I watch his face for any reaction, I see his eyes tear up, I can’t tell if they are happy tears or if they are sad tears. I take a step towards him before lifting a shaky hand towards him. He turns the test towards me, and when I look at it, I can clearly see it say, pregnant. I immediately burst into tears, wrapping my arms around Seungmin. He drops the test and wraps both of his arms around me, crying into my neck, while also kissing my neck. 

“I can’t believe it baby, we’re gonna be parent’s.” I say excitedly to him. “I can’t either, this is the best news ever.” he kisses my face repeatedly

Later that night:

Seungmin and I lay in bed, his hand laying on my stomach, drawing lazy circles. I’m in and out of sleep drained from the emotional excitement of the day, but I would take this excitement over the heartache of not being pregnant any day. Seungmin taps me awake when he notices that I’m drifting off, I look up at him sleepily, wondering why he won't let me sleep.

“What’s up baby?”

“I want you to come with me to practice tomorrow.” “Why?”

“I want you to be there with me when I tell the boys.” “Shouldn't we wait to tell them?” “You know that I can’t keep a secret from them.” “You're right. You really can’t.” I sigh

“It would only be the boys.” “Only the boys? No one else?”

“Only the boys.” “Ok, I’ll go with you tomorrow then.” “Perfect. Sleep now my love.”

The next morning:

Seungmin tried to let me sleep for as long as possible before waking me to come with him to go to practice. I knew that once we told the boys I could either crash on the couch in the practice room like old times or their driver would take me home. He didn’t tell the boys that I would be joining him today, so they were pleasantly surprised when both Seungmin and I walked into the practice room hand in hand. 

“Hey pup, y/n.” Chan said as he looked up from where he was stretching on the floor. Felix and Hyunjin stopped messing around across the room and made their way over, Han and Lee Know got up from the couch, standing nearby now. Changbin and I.N. came into the room behind us, Changbin rustled SeungMin's hair but he couldn’t find it in himself to be annoyed. 

“What are you doing here y/nnie?” I.n asked, giving me a hug. 

“There’s something that Seungmin wanted to tell you guys, but he wanted me here for it.”

“What’s that?” Felix asked, curious now.

“You aren’t leaving the group are you?” Lee Know asked nervously. 

“Yah, don’t ask that. We don’t need that negative energy.” Chan jumped up quickly, smacking Lee Know upside the head. 

“God no, why would you ever even ask that. I would only ever leave this group in a body bag or the military service. Sorry baby.” Seungmin responded.

“I know how much you love being in this group babe, I’d never ask you to leave it.” “Gah, you two are sickenly cute.” Hyunjin dramatically exclaims.

“Nice to see you too Hyunjin.” I wave to him.

“You too y/nnie.” he waves back smiling at me.

“So what is it that you wanted to tell us?” Han asks, getting us back on track.

“Oh yea. Y/n’s pregnant.” “No way! That’s amazing, congratulations y/nnie.” Chan walks up to me, giving me a hug. The rest of the boys follow suit, giving similar congratulations. 

“You know, I always thought that it would be Channie who would have kids first out of all of us.” I.n pips up first. 

“Honestly same.” Seungmin says from next to me.

“What can I say, the Mrs isn’t ready yet. She just wants it to be the two of us for right now.” Chan replies.

“I just know that Stays are going to lose their shit when they find out that not only are you not single but you're married.” I tell him teasingly 

“It’ll be funny when they figure out it’s her that I wrote Railways about.”

“And Drive and Connected and Red Lights.” Hyunjin calls from across the room where he continues to stretch. 

“Yea yea. Call me out all you want.” Chan calls back to him.

“It’s ok Chan, she loves it. And so do Stays.” I tease him 

“But seriously, congrats guys. I’m really happy for you.” Chan gives both Seungmin and I hugs.

“Seungmin, does this mean you're going to go on hiatus?” Felix asks.

“No, I know Chan has offered it before in the past when we’ve gone on tour, and I assume the offer still stands but y/n plans to travel with us. During her pregnancy and after. The only time I’ll go on hiatus is right before the baby is born until the baby is around six months, then y/n and the baby will travel with us. As long as that's still ok with Chan?” Seungmin explains.

“That should be fine, the fans know that you have a wife. It might make it a little more tricky traveling wise but we can make it work.” Chan responds.

“I actually wanted to talk to both you and Seungmin about that.” I respond before Seungmin gets the chance.

“What’s up babe?” Seungmin asks.

“With me being pregnant now, I think it’s time that your fans know what I look like. They’ve always been supportive of the fact that you’ve been married, and now that we’re expecting, if they know what I look like it’ll make it easier to get through the airport if I can walk with you guys and your security.”

“That's a good point actually, y/n.”

“I agree, my love.” “Then it’s settled, we will talk to staff and on the next scheduled live stream for you, we will have y/nnie join you.”

“Sounds like a plan.”

I spend the rest of the day watching the boys practice for their upcoming comeback and dosing on the couch. Seungmin asks me multiple times throughout the day if I want to go home but I’d rather stay here with him and be surrounded by the people that I love most. I know that everything will be ok.

[lamentationsofalonelypotato]

@zepskies

Jumping right back in to part 3!

Accurate depiction of me knowing what's about to happen to the readers dad. 👆🏻👆🏻👆🏻👆🏻👆🏻👆🏻

And:

“Go, get out of here!” he shouts and waves you off. “What? What is it?!” you yell. He shakes his head, like he’s unable to answer your question. “Run! Run and don’t stop!”

“So there’s a chance he could still be alive,” you say, in a brighter voice. Dean gives you a measured look, dragging a hand over his mouth. “Look, I’m gonna be straight with you,” he says. “It’s been months, right?” You nod, though you realize what he’s saying. Don’t get your hopes up.

I won't get my hopes up. I will be just as devastated now as when I find out that he is gone for good. 😭

Also I love that you said her mother refused to "entertain anything else" because Dean's job description is literally "anything else" lol. And it really is a wonderful thing (not wonderful like good but you know what I mean) that Dean and the reader can further connect on. Her knowing what Dean really did for a living and him being brave enough to risk his life on the possibility of "a chance."

“I appreciate the thought, but trust me. I’d rather you look out for you,” he says.

It's too late for that kind of talk sexy mountain man. You're stuck with her and she is not going to let you go that easy.

Am I trying to hide my emotions over Dean going into the wilderness alone to face a wendigo with humor? Yes, yes I am.

You try to fill up your time in other ways, like attempting, and failing, and trying again more successfully to make bread from scratch. You haven’t binge-watched every season of The Great British Bake-Off for nothing.

It's a whole vibe 🍞

Side note: I did have to look up what nesting was in the A/B/O universe, but that is so cute. 😭

After you manage to clamber back onto your feet using the crutches, you put together some supplies, including the extra med kit in case he’s hurt. (Or in case something happens to you while you’re out there.) This is a bad idea, you think, even as you heave on your jacket. Then, you hear the sound of a lock turning, before the front door shoves open. 

Oh goodness, yes it was a bad idea and I am so happy that Dean showed up when he did, because my anxiety for this reader was THROUGH THE ROOF. I mean yes, go get your man, but gurl please it's snowing and you've got a broken ankle. At least catch a bear or something to pull you on a sleigh lol. 🤣

Your lips tremble. As that horrible realization dawns, you break down into tears. You already know from his tone that your father was dead when he found him.  Dean guides you down to him by your shoulder and wraps his arms around you. You bury your face into his neck, and your body shakes with quiet sobs.

See this is why I don't get my hopes up because OH MY SWEET GOODNESS I'M CRYING 😭 But at least Dean is there now to wipe away her tears. AND my tears will soon be dried with the fires of their passion so... LOL 😂

He finally drags you to him in a kiss.  It’s heady and passionate, and also comforting. Your fingers wind into his hair, your nails scraping along his scalp. He growls as his arm tightens around your waist. You shiver in delight.

See I feel better already 🥰

“Do you know what your scent is to me?” you ask, in a voice slightly trembling. You glance at the fireplace that has dimmed to embers. “It’s better than that fire at full blaze. Every time I went camping with my dad, that’s what I loved the most. Sitting by that fire, talking, laughing, and for the millionth time, telling the story of when I gave my sister micro bangs in her sleep when I was ten.”

This is such a wonderful comparison to what it's like being around him for the reader. It holds the warmth and the feeling of home whenever you read it. I love it.

And also you know how much I love the continuing idea of Dean thinking that he's not enough and that the reader would never like him. I know that I always point it out when I read something of yours, but it really always fits him and you write it so well my friend 💚

“Look…even if that’s true, you don’t want this with me,” he says. His handsome face becomes marred by a frown, his brows knitting together. “I don’t even own this place. Besides my car, I ain’t got much of anything to give.”

I also love this bit, because Dean reduces himself to physical wealth here rather than seeing all the wonderful qualities of himself that we all love being something that he can give the reader. It really makes their connection all the more loving and real, because the reader isn't asking for Dean to give her things or to be rich, she's just asking FOR Dean. And I think it will be a beautiful and wonderful thing when he realizes that.

This chapter was so wonderful Alex! I loved every heart wrenching bit and I can't wait to read the next one my wonderful friend! ❤️

Against the Wind - Part 3

Pairing: Alpha!Dean Winchester x F. Omega!Reader 

Summary: You wake up in a strange alpha’s cabin in the middle of a snowstorm, all with a busted ankle. He holds shadows in his eyes, even though his hands are gentle. There are iron shutters around his heart, even though he saved you. You might just save him in return.

AN: Merry Christmas! I'm dropping this chapter a day early for you guys. Now, here's the full story, and what Dean is going to do about it…

Jacklesverse Bingo24 Prompt: True Mates @jacklesversebingo

Song Inspo: “Against the Wind” by Bob Seger

Word Count: 3.8K

Tags/Warnings: 18+ only. Angst, mentions of blood, hint of spice.~

Series Masterlist || Bingo Masterlist

Part 3: Nothing Left to Burn

“We should start heading back,” you say, looking up at the mid-afternoon sky. It was starting to dip toward the top of the trees in the distance. “It’s going to take a couple of hours to get back before nightfall.”

“Yep, it’s about that time.” Your dad groans as he starts to haul himself back to his feet, where you two had been taking a rest against a tree. “Jesus, I need a new pair of knees. Help your old man, would ya?”

You smirk as you help the middle-aged alpha to his feet. His joints pop and his back cracks as he stretches his arms high.

“Damn, Dad. You’re creakier than the trees,” you quip.

He tosses you a wry look. “Just you wait. In a few years, after wrangling a couple of pups, you’re gonna feel my pain.”

“A few years?” you laugh. “Did I miss the part where I actually met a decent guy, let alone one worth mating?”

“Oh, you’ll find him,” your dad nods, slinging his rifle back over his shoulder. “Or he’ll find you, like your mother did with me.”

You follow his lead with your own rifle, falling into step with him through the forest clearing. It’s a beautiful day in late November. Already you can see the edge of frost on the shrubs and half-barren trees. The ground is littered with dead leaves painted in browns, oranges, and dappled with reds.

“You met her in college. It’s not like you guys defied fate,” you say.

“Yeah, but if she hadn’t walked into my psychology class by mistake, and stolen my latte at the campus café, maybe you wouldn’t be here,” he teases. 

You huff and roll your eyes. Yes, your parents are a walking cliché. And by far, your dad’s the bigger sap.

“I’m telling you. Sometimes, the universe does us a solid,” he says, reinforcing his point with a literal pointed finger your way. You push it away from your face in exasperation.

“You might wanna watch where you’re going,” you say, “before you roll your ankle on another pebble.”

“You kidding me?” he exclaims. “That thing was the size of my fist! You’re lucky I didn’t break an ankle. Make you carry me all the way back to the car.”

You snort. “Right. Think I’ll just leave you for the bears…”

You trail off when a sound reaches you and your father. The sound of leaves crunching in the underbrush, quick and light. Your father’s shoulders straighten with alertness, the alpha’s head cocking toward the sound.

“Maybe I spoke too soon about the bears,” you whisper. He shakes his head.

“Nah, too light. It’s probably an elk.” He tosses you a smile. “We’ll have one hell of a haul to bring home, plus a good story to tell your mom.”

Your mother, the vegan veterinarian?

“Yeah, because she loves elk meat.”

“Would you quit being a smartass for two minutes? You go a little west. I’ll see where it’s at,” he says.

He quietly wracks his rifle and steps away from the clearing, farther into the woods. You do what he says, veering west. You don’t see the elk, and soon enough, you don’t see your dad either. You do hear a whistling on the wind, and the cold of it cuts right through your coat.

Unease prickles down your spine, though you don’t know why.

“Dad?” you whisper-yell, trying not to spook whatever animal might be out there.

A gunshot rings out, along with your dad’s voice in a shout. Your eyes widen in alarm, and you call his name, taking off in a run to find him.

You end up rising over a hill you hadn’t crossed before, but you see your dad below; you recognize his bright blue puffer jacket that Mom got him for his birthday. You call his name, and he looks up at you with fear in his eyes.

Not for himself, but for you.

“Go, get out of here!” he shouts and waves you off.

“What? What is it?!” you yell.

He shakes his head, like he’s unable to answer your question. “Run! Run and don’t stop!”

He moves further into the denser trees until you can no longer make him out. With a frustrated huff, you sprint down the hill and try to follow his tracks with your gun at the ready. On the wind, in the distance, you still hear his voice.

Until it cuts off abruptly, along with the terrible cracking of bone.

You gasp and halt in your steps. What the fuck was that?

Tears fill your eyes and blur your vision. Despite what you heard, you realize just how very alone you are in the clearing. Fear and adrenaline make your breath tremulous and shallow, but you can’t just give up. You search for a while longer, making yourself hoarse calling out to your father.

No matter what direction you take, you never find him.

“I ran back to town to get the rangers,” you say, brushing a couple of stray tears from your cheeks. You sniff, licking your lips and swallowing a hard lump of emotion in your throat.

Dean continues to listen intently with his brows furrowed.

“It was too late,” you sigh. “He disappeared. They explained it away, thought a grizzly bear got him, but I know it wasn’t a damn bear.” 

You shake your head as the tears come harder and faster, all over again. Dean’s jaw clenches in sympathy.

“No one believed me about what I heard, not even my mom,” you confess. Your mother had been too distraught to entertain “anything else.” No matter how strongly you’d felt about your suspicions, you understood that she just wanted to put your father’s death behind her after his funeral. Part of you had stopped believing yourself. 

A stronger part of you hadn’t been able to let it go, however. So you had to come back here and try to find any trace of your father. 

When you finally run out of words, you see the proverbial gears turning in Dean’s eyes. 

“What’re you thinking?” you hazard to ask. You can’t help but reach out and grab at his wrist. “Do you…do you believe me?”

Dean’s gaze softens a fraction. He lays his larger hand over yours.

“Yeah, I do,” he says. “I’m willing to bet on what took him too.”

He squeezes your hand before he lets you go and gets up from his seat. He soon returns with his father’s journal in hand. He reclaims his spot across from you, sitting close to your thigh on the end of the chaise. His gaze falls away from your face to the journal in hand, and he flips it open to a page he knows from memory. You suck in a subtle breath to steel yourself when he turns it toward you—to the very page that had given you nightmares the first night you read it. 

Wendigo. 

“Nasty son of a bitch,” he says. “It hibernates for decades at a time, but when it surfaces, it knows how to get through long winters like this. It takes a handful of people at a time, feeding on its victims slow.”

You feel sick at that, but still, his words elicit a sliver of hope.

“So there’s a chance he could still be alive,” you say, in a brighter voice. Dean gives you a measured look, dragging a hand over his mouth.

“Look, I’m gonna be straight with you,” he says. “It’s been months, right?”

You nod, though you realize what he’s saying. Don’t get your hopes up.

“But there’s a chance,” you insist, with tears in your eyes. Dean holds your gaze for a moment, and he nods. He squeezes your knee this time, then shuts the journal with one hand as he moves to stand.

You follow him on your crutches over to the kitchen. He pulls out a drawer and retrieves a folded-up map. Tossing the journal on the kitchen counter, he opens up the map and lays it out flat next to the sink. It’s a map of the mountain, and the entire forest surrounding the mountain of Big Sky. Dean’s eyes flick up to yours.

“Where did it happen?”

Dean has packed up his supplies and put on his winter gear. You watch him from the living room sofa, trying to hide your unease. You know he’s doing this for you, but there’s part of you that doesn’t want to see him leave, for his own sake, and selfishly for yours.

“Try not to go outside again unless you absolutely friggin’ have to,” he warns. “And if you do, don’t go too far. Make sure you take a weapon, preferably a gun and a knife.”

“Dean, I know,” you reply. You get up and hover by the couch while he finishes lacing his snowshoes and hooks his backpack on. You’re unable to hide your concern.

“You shouldn’t be going out there alone,” you say. 

Dean tosses you a grin. It has the shade of how he was with you before the “journal” incident—self-assured, a hint teasing.

“Don’t worry. This isn’t exactly my first solo mission,” he says, though his devil-may-care attitude soon subsides into something more serious. “If I’m not back inside a week, you need to ration out the supplies here as best you can. That new meat in the fridge should last you a while.”

By new meat, you have to assume he means the bear.

“When you’re healed up, you can make your way down the mountain and back to town with that map I left for you. Kitchen counter,” he says.

Your frown worsens. You step closer to him with the pretense of closing and locking the front door for him after he leaves.

“Dean,” you say, stopping him at the door. He turns to look at you over his shoulder. You hesitate, fidgeting slightly, but you gain your courage.

“If you don’t come back, I’m going to find you,” you warn him.

Dean frowns. He turns to you fully and tilts his head as if to say, come again?

“No, you’re not, Omega. You understand me?”

His terseness doesn’t scare you anymore. You glare up at him, quite literally standing your ground.

“You didn’t leave me out there when you didn’t even know me. You think I’d do that to you?” you counter.

At that, Dean has to pause, tilting his head slightly. He almost smiles at your stubbornness, and just like that, his annoyance dissipates. It softens him, making him reach for your arm in an assuring squeeze.

“I appreciate the thought, but trust me. I’d rather you look out for you,” he says.

Right now, you don’t really give a shit about what he’d rather, but you don’t say so. It’s written across your face anyway. Dean’s mouth tugs at a smile.

“All right, I’m out,” he says. “Save me some of Yogi in there.”

You huff, but you shut the door behind him after he steps out onto the porch, down the steps, and beyond. You move to the living room window and watch him get farther and farther away from the cabin. 

Despite the crackling fireplace, you begin to feel cold inside. 

After the first three days, you’ve managed to clean the entire cabin, top to bottom. With the “new meat,” you make a large batch of soup to last you throughout the week. You freeze a couple of servings for Dean.

For when he gets back. 

You try to fill up your time in other ways, like attempting, and failing, and trying again more successfully to make bread from scratch. You haven’t binge-watched every season of The Great British Bake-Off for nothing.

Then you organize all of the alpha’s books by author. You wash all the laundry you can find and fold everything neatly on his bed, and you put away the couple of sweaters you’ve borrowed from him into your own dresser. 

On Day Four, you create a nest of pillows and blankets in the middle of the living room floor. In your anxiety, it’s a reflex you can’t help. Your initial instinct was to nest in his room, but you thought that was too invasive of his privacy, so the living room was your next best option. At least his scent is still somewhat imbued into his favorite chair, and around his records. (You do steal another shirt of his to sleep with though.)

On Day 8, your worry becomes a living thing. You pace the living room and the kitchen on your crutches, probably wearing down the wooden ends of them while you debate what to do. Despite what Dean told you to do if he didn’t get back, you know you’re not just going to leave him out there. But the reality is, you have a problem of mobility.

With a frustrated huff, you decide to try setting your problem foot down normally. Your ankle hurts, a sharp pain shooting up your calf and nearly sending you to the floor.

“Fuck!” you gasp, both in shock and aggravation.

You know this isn’t just a sprain. At best it could be a fracture, since no bone is protruding under the skin. It still means you shouldn’t go after him either. 

But you’ll have to try. 

After you manage to clamber back onto your feet using the crutches, you put together some supplies, including the extra med kit in case he’s hurt. (Or in case something happens to you while you’re out there.) This is a bad idea, you think, even as you heave on your jacket.

Then, you hear the sound of a lock turning, before the front door shoves open. 

A yelp of surprise escapes you, though you soon realize that it’s Dean, looking worn down and ragged, but alive. 

“Home, sweet home,” he says wryly, but he looks relieved to see you too.

You help him sink down onto the chaise, where he stretches out with a groan. He tips his head back on the cushion. His jacket is torn in a few places. Blood has dried on his cheek, his neck, and near his hairline, and you worry about where else he might be hurt. 

You quickly go to the kitchen and pour a bowl of warm water and grab a hand towel. You bring it all back to Dean, where you set your supplies on the floor and sit down beside him on the cushion.

“Are you okay?” You try to calm down your racing heart (and the nauseous feeling in your stomach) as you help him work open his jacket, followed by his shirt. Discreetly, your eyes take in the expanse of his tanned skin and pebbling nipples exposed to the cool air, even with the fire roaring nearby.

“Yeah, just peachy,” he says. 

You smile a little. You take the towel, dampen it, and begin to clear the blood from his cheek, his neck, and the upper part of his torso—even his scuffed hands. Then you squeegee out the blood in the bowl and continue your task. Dean subtly watches you, his gaze a bit softer than usual.

He eventually looks you over with a frown as he takes in the way you’re dressed, and then the backpack by the door. 

“What, about to go for a little afternoon stroll?” His sarcasm turns to annoyance. “Didn’t I tell you to stay put until you can actually walk?”

Your mouth flattens into a line, but any anger you might’ve felt is waylaid by your relief. It brings tears to your eyes. 

“I thought something happened to you,” you say.

Dean hesitates. Your hand has stilled on his chest. He softens a little more, grasping your hand in his larger one. 

“I’m fine,” he says. “The job’s done.”

Your eyes widen. “You found the…thing? The wendigo?”

His mouth pulls at a cocky grin, tempered only by his tiredness, and the way he’s looking at you. “Sure did. Tried to take a chunk outta my ass, but a little aerosol deodorant and a lighter’s all you need to barbecue that ugly son of a bitch.”

You smile in amusement, but all too soon, it fades.

“Did you find my dad?” you ask.

Dean’s expression sobers as well.

“Yeah, I think so.” His face gentles. “Was he wearing a blue puffer jacket?”

Your lips tremble. As that horrible realization dawns, you break down into tears. You already know from his tone that your father was dead when he found him. 

Dean guides you down to him by your shoulder and wraps his arms around you. You bury your face into his neck, and your body shakes with quiet sobs.

“I’m sorry, sweetheart,” he murmurs into your hair. “Believe me, I am.”

He holds you close, warm and secure. He allows you to stay there as long as you need, where you feel safe, even if this world has become a colder, darker place. 

After a few minutes longer, your intense sobs begin to subside. You don’t mean to, but you turn your nose into Dean’s neck, scenting him on reflex. It calms you down, but it has the unintended effect of arousing him. The alpha rumbles in pleasure. 

You blink in surprise and lean back enough to see his face. Dean’s lips press together as he looks down on you; he seems embarrassed, but you also see the heat reflected in his gaze, so intense in those forest greens. Your face begins to warm in a blush.

He brushes your cheek with his thumb, collecting your tears there. You glance down at his plush lips again, your own parting with a breath. His hand moves to cup your cheek, framing the side of your face. Please…

He finally drags you to him in a kiss. 

It’s heady and passionate, and also comforting. Your fingers wind into his hair, your nails scraping along his scalp. He growls as his arm tightens around your waist. You shiver in delight.

You press a hand to the center of his chest, giving you leverage to rise up and slide your thigh over his legs. There you sink into his lap. Your breasts pillow against his chest when you lay on top of him, your elbows digging into the cushion on either side of his head. His hands move down your body, feeling down your sides, squeezing your hips, and then your ass. You hum into his mouth and roll your hips into his. Already you feel him hardening through his jeans.  

But somehow he breaks away from your kiss, even though your hands are still in his hair. 

“Sorry…we can’t do this,” he says, with difficulty.

He sits upright and nearly makes you fall over in the process. He grabs your arm before you tip over, but he keeps himself at arm’s length from you after you’re forced to slide off his lap, sitting on the end of the chaise instead. Your eyes glisten with hurt and confusion. 

“Why?” is all you can ask.

He doesn’t want to answer. 

“Dean?” you ask, inching towards him. He raises a hand to keep you at bay.

“Just…it’s not a good idea, okay?” he says, with the clenching of his jaw.

That cuts into you even more. Your heart pulses with pain.

“Do you know what your scent is to me?” you ask, in a voice slightly trembling. You glance at the fireplace that has dimmed to embers. “It’s better than that fire at full blaze. Every time I went camping with my dad, that’s what I loved the most. Sitting by that fire, talking, laughing, and for the millionth time, telling the story of when I gave my sister micro bangs in her sleep when I was ten.”

You wipe a stray tear from your eye, but you respect the distance he’s put between you two.

“The second I met you, I knew what this was,” you say. “I think you know it too.”

Dean shakes his head. His face betrays his wariness, his desire, and his obstinance. 

“Look…even if that’s true, you don’t want this with me,” he says. His handsome face becomes marred by a frown, his brows knitting together. “I don’t even own this place. Besides my car, I ain’t got much of anything to give.”

You shake your head in dismay. “I know that’s not true.”

“I’m not bullshitting,” he says. “Listen…I’ve never had much. And what I did have, I found a way to lose. I’ve let my people down. Just about everyone I’ve ever…”

You can’t help but reach out a hand for him, your heart hurting, but he leans away, pressing himself back against the seat. It cuts even deeper into you; now though, you wonder if it’s because he feels the same gut feeling you do when he’s this close—close enough to touch, but almost afraid of the burn.

“They’ve been hurt, almost always because of me.” His voice shakes imperceptibly, with a wry, humorless turn of his lips. “So take it from me, sweetheart. You’ll wanna steer clear.”  

“Dean,” you say. You expel a breath, digesting his words, while thinking of what you want to say.

“I’ve never not felt safe with you,” you confess. “Even when I screwed up and drove you crazy, I’m sure, I knew you’d never hurt me. The same way I know…”

You reach out a tentative hand to lay in the center of his chest, over his heart. Your thumb brushes the edge of his strange tattoo, over the dark ink in his skin. 

“You’re my mate. My one, true mate in this world,” you say, meeting his eyes. “And I want to know you.”

You see inner conflict in the depths of Dean’s eyes, dark green and troubled. You take a chance and lean in, brushing your cheek against his, nuzzling, laying a soft kiss to his cheek. 

“Omega,” he warns, but the grit in his voice has little heat.

Or at least, it’s heat of a different kind, as his strong hands once again find your waist. They hold you still, but also hold you to him. Your gentle affection is making him ache, deep in the shadowy cavern of his chest. He’d never admit it, but loneliness had set in there, burrowed deep with a stronghold on his heart. Without knowing, you’ve been carving it out with those gentle hands. 

You now slide your hands up his chest and over his shoulders, warm palms on his skin. 

“Alpha, I want to know you,” you insist. Quiet, but steady, your voice is a mere brush of words near his ear, against his cheek. “Please.” 

Dean’s brows furrow as he briefly shuts his eyes tight. With your whispered plea, the brittle chain of his restraint finally snaps free. 

He cradles the back of your head and guides you back into a feverish kiss.

AN: Sorry to cut it off there lol, but the big (steamy) finale is coming up next week! Perhaps a little earlier than Friday. 😘

Next Time:

“Were you nesting, Omega?” he teases, between the sinful meetings of his lips with yours. You hum your affirmation before his tongue swipes across your lower lip, seeking entrance.

You open yourself to him in more ways than one; you slip your hands across his naked shoulders and explore the smooth planes of muscle, the dips and softness in between. You encourage him to lower down, to cover you with the length and broadness of his frame. His weight is a welcome one between your thighs and against the softness of your body.

“Was worried about you,” you whisper a confession against his lips. Dean briefly pauses, meeting your eyes.

“Thanks for waiting up,” he says, with a hint of a smile.

Your lips curve upwards in return.

▶️ Keep reading: Part 4 (Finale!)

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[thezombieprostitute]

Just spreading the love over here

That's definitely the look of someone who's angry. But who is he mad at and why?

Warnings: Implied violence, Kidnapping, Talk of cheating. Please let me know if I missed any!

Even before he's fully awake, Andy knows he's in trouble. His head is throbbing and the last thing he remembers is leaving your apartment and putting his wedding ring back on before you woke up. He was glad to have found a way out of spending more time with you. But then there was a thump on the back of his head.

His eyes aren't open but he feels the restraints around his arms and ankles, fastening him to a chair. He isn't gagged, though, so they clearly expect a conversation. This isn't a ransom situation, it's an interrogation. Well he's not an assistant DA for nothing. He can talk himself out of this easily enough.

"We know you're awake, Barber. Open your eyes and let's get this conversation started."

Andy complies and sees two of Fowler's top lieutenants glaring at him. Curtis "The Axe" Everett and James "Winter Soldier" Barnes. Two of the most dangerous men in the city.

"What is this about?" he sneers. "You know your boss doesn't allow you to touch government officials without good cause. And I know you don't have that."

"Does Laurie know about your girlfriend?" Barnes' tone is as icy as his nickname.

"And before you try to say you don't have one," Everett interjects. "Remember who you're talking to."

Andy bites back a rude comment. Fowler's gang wasn't the biggest but it was the strongest and the richest because they invested in information. Where other mobs would resort to violence as a first choice, Fowler saw the wisdom in blackmail and bribery instead.

"So what if I have a sidepiece?" he argues. "What's that got to do with your boss? You know his rules. I'm off limits!"

"We have Nick's blessing," Barnes tells him. "Because if you can't trust a man to keep his promises to his wife, how can you trust him to keep his promises to you?"

"Business is different," Andy tries to argue but his voice is dry.

"Not when it comes to family," Everett counters.

"And definitely not when it comes to the court of public opinion," Barnes adds. "What would the public think if their DA---"

"Assistant DA," Curtis interjects, eyes never leaving Andy. They all know it's a sore spot for Andy that he's not the District Attorney.

"Right, what would the public think if their assistant DA was cheating on his wife? How could such a man properly represent them in court? Your political career would go up in smoke."

Andy is fuming but he can't think of a way out of this. Fowler's backing was his only chance but now that he knows that's gone, he's grasping at straws.

"What's the cost?" he finally grumbles.

"You and your wife are moving to a lovely little town on the opposite side of the country," Barnes starts. "That program she works for is opening a new branch there and you, being a good, loving husband, are going to support her and move with her to the new location."

"I'll be starting over!"

"But with a good record," Barnes counters. "That's the final gift from Fowler for your years of help."

"If you refuse, or if you ever step foot in this city again, though," Everett growls, "and you'll find yourself physically, financially, and politically ruined."

"I understand," Andy scowls. "Now let me go so I can get the good news from my wife about our move."

"Glad to see that jackass gone," Curtis says.

"Can you believe he didn't even ask if he could say goodbye to our girl?" Bucky adds.

"I know. She deserves so much better than him."

"And she'll get it."

"She's gonna be hurting for awhile, but we'll help her through it."

"And treat her like the angel she is."

Tagging: @alicedopey; @darsynia; @delicatebarness; @icefrozendeadlyqueen; @irishhappiness; @jaqui-has-a-conspiracy-theory; @lokislady82; @ronearoundblindly; @stellar-solar-flare; @thiquefunlover63

[lsunstreakerl]

I'm not sure if this is because I have a lot of sympathy for Lewis, want him to hurt, get a hug (or all of the above) but I could absolutely see him tempted to go on a bender after he learns.

Like right after Max leaves, the silence he leaves in his wake. How does he even move on from that? Maybe I'm not a well-adjusted person but I would go on a bender from hell after that.

uhhhh I think I checked all of the above here :)

Nico clears his throat behind him.

Lewis is standing in the hallway still, feet rooted to the floor, Roscoe in his arms.

"Lew- I think you should come back inside."

Nico's voice is soft, gentle behind him. Nico hasn't been gentle with him in years. Decades, even.

Lewis wonders what it says that he's doing it now.

He swallows, a lump in his throat as he turns, letting Roscoe back down to the floor as he steps inside the flat.

Everything feels like it's underwater, through layers of muffled noise. Nothing like the actual race day, when he thought his eardrums would burst from the cheers, because he won Silverstone, his home, took the cocky brat down a few pegs-

Lewis feels like he's splintering. Not a cocky brat-

Max.

Not down a few pegs-

Slammed into his car, slammed into the walls, rattled inside his helmet at 51g, snapped so hard his eyes are damaged and his brain is damaged and he's out, out for good-

"Lewis, you're shaking."

Nico's hand rests softly onto Lewis' shoulder, and he recoils from the touch, because he has no right, none, to get soft things right now, not when he's-

When he's-

"Nico,"

His voice wavers, slightly wet, and Lewis hasn't felt like this in a long time, where everything is quiet and still, where he feels like he's teetering on the edge of... something.

He feels like a balloon, like everything inside him is expanding and won't stop, and the pressure is almost too much-

"What if I'd killed him."

His voice cracks, and it's- it's fucking eating away at him, started splintering inside as Max had walked away.

His sweater is still damp where Max had cried into his shoulder.

Seeking comfort, comfort from Lewis, even though it was Lewis who hit him, Lewis who lost himself in adoring hands-

He feels his nails digging into his palms.

Every pat on the shoulder, every adoring fan, and Max had probably received the same amount of hands on him, but it wasn't love, it was medical gloves and equipment, it was monitors and medicine, because-

Because of Lewis.

Max could have died, and Lewis wouldn't have known, and still he'd wanted Lewis to forgive him, like there was anything there Max needed to be forgiven for.

He blinks rapidly, and suddenly Nico is in front of him, arms wrapping around his waist.

"It's okay, Lew. Let it out."

Lewis doesn't want to let it out, Lewis wants to shove it in a box and let it fester, wants to never touch it again.

When he breathes out it's a sob, and he's gripping Nico as he squeezes his eyes shut, because for the second time tonight someone is going to cry about this accident.

"Fuck, Nico."

He takes another rattling inhale, and then he's stepping away, slams his closed fist onto the marble countertop.

"Fuck!"

He turns back, and he's sure his eyes are wild based on the way Nico is watching him warily, but he doesn't care.

"What is with this damn sport, huh? What is it about these fucking cars and these teams, why does it just- just eliminate the humanity in any of us?"

"Lewis-"

"I never once checked on him, and it's not because it was water under the bridge, it's because I didn't fucking want to know, because I'm not stupid, none of us are, we all should've known there would be serious consequences from that kind of crash-"

He hits the countertop again, feels it all cracking and crumbling to pieces inside of him.

"This sport, man. It turns kids into enemies- he was never- I shouldn't have-"

Nico steps closer, still wary, but his hand is gentle on Lewis' shoulder.

"You're not above it, Lewis. It does that to all of us."

Lewis sinks into the barstool, head in his hands.

"I'm supposed to be better than that, Nico."

"You can't be everything at once."

He laughs, but it's cracked and brittle.

"And whose expense is that at, huh? Certainly not mine."

[sporadicallyanenthusiast]

It's interesting, because I'm reading a Brazilian Portuguese translation and I've been finding some differences from the English one, which I suspect may be truer to the original Greek. For example, in Portuguese, Menelaus is described as a blond instead of a ginger, and Athena is described with green eyes instead of gray. So I think that's the reason there might be a misconception on my part, since in the scene when Menelaus tells Telemachus what he knows about Odysseus, he says Proteus told him so after Menelaus captured him, instead of it being a dream.

I mean, if it had been described as a dream, it'd be very understandable why he wouldn't say anything! That's not trustworthy information you just go sharing out of nowhere, indeed. But since it was a prophet God that told him that (in the book I'm reading, at least), I thought it was a bit jarring he didn't try to warn anyone, you know?

Especially after he told Telemachus he liked Odysseus so much, he'd empty the island of Ithaca and relocate all of its inhabitants to Laconia, make a whole new kingdom for Odysseus there, just so they could rule nearby each other. Which is why I made the gay joke, by the way haha It's my first time reading Ancient Greek mythology and I admit I was caught off guard by such an earnest expression of Menelaus' love for his friend. Honestly, I get it, I would do the same for my best friends! Haha And I agree, I don't ship them either (even tho I haven't read the Iliad yet - yeah, I know 🥲) and I think it should be more normal to express how much we care about our friends the way Menelaus does.

Regardless, you are right the poor man had enough on his plate already.

And when you put it like that, indeed it's an awkward letter lol

Still, maybe I'm projecting too much here, but if I were in Penelope's or Telemachus' place, I'd like to know something, anything. As useless as the information may sound. They knew Odysseus didn't die in the Trojan War, so what happened? I'd find some semblance of comfort in knowing someone heard my loved one is still alive and he wants to get back to me. I can understand where Menelaus would be coming from, if he thought knowing wouldn't help Penelope of Telemachus at all, but if it were my husband or my father, I'd be furious no one told me.

And maybe it's wishful thinking on my part, but who knows, Penelope might have had some leverage to hold the suitors back in that scenario. It would be extremely disrespectful to try for the Queen's hand if there's a chance the King's still alive. And maybe then Telemachus would have had a chance to prove himself earlier, to show he is already a man and capable of taking over the throne, if he had traveled to look for his father sooner. I mean, Athena herself goes to Telemachus and essentially asks him "Why don't you finally kick those men (the suitors) out of your palace? Why don't you go try to get information about your father?". So maybe having a lead earlier on may have had saved them some of the trouble. At least that's what I was thinking when I read that scene.

And yes, you're right! There is a chance Menelaus did try to send a letter and it never arrived. And maybe he thought he ought to "repeat" the whole story to Telemachus, since the poor boy went through the trouble of getting to Sparta and asking him about Odysseus in person.

Well, at the end of the day, you are the scholar here, I'm just reading those myths for the first time hahaha. To be honest, I wrote the og post as a silly joke when I was half asleep, I didn't expect it to get any attention at all. So I apologize for any misinformation I may have spread on accident!

Telemachus is so much stronger than me for real. Cause if I had traveled for days, by sea AND land, arrived at the palace of my father's friend and my mother's cousin to humbly ask if they know anything about my missing father and instead of just fucking telling me already, this mf started a monologue about how gay he is for my dad and about the time he captured a God that granted him wishes three, I'd already be telling him to Hurry The Fuck Up. IT'S BEEN TEN YEARS, I DON'T HAVE ALL DAY.

But if the same motherfucker then turned around and told me that he had known FOR YEARS NOW that my dad is trapped on an island AND THE MOTHERFUCKER DIDN'T TELL ANYONE!!!! NOT A SINGLE LETTER!!! I would have already strangled Menelaus with that fucking blond hair of his in front of his wife and children, unhelpful son of a bitch.