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#music as a substitute for words
neverendingford · 9 months
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#m afraid of things#surely there's no other aspects here at all at play#they always either jump on the depression or the anxiety train and they ride it into the sunset#and I“m sitting here like yeah sure explain this to me not like I've heard it before not like I”ve read fucking academic papers about it#therapists sitting at their desk typing with a single finger going “today I taught the patient that her anxiety is anxiety”#congrats I'm glad you're getting paid for this I'm not getting anything out of it though#also a half hour isn't long enough to talk about fucking alnything at all#an hour is barely enough time to explore a topic with any sort of thoroughness so a half hour? miss me with that shit#I'm over here like “hey I've never wanted to fuck someone more than twice and I move friend groups like I”m playing musical chairs#and I block five year friends with no emotional hesitation at all. maybe there's something wrong?#and the therapist perks up like “oooo maybe it's anxiety? or it might be your depression but it's anxiety I think”#if I had an autism diagnosis they would be just substituting the word anxiety for the word autism#useless useless useless#I know how to fix most of my problems I#m here to learn calculus cause I've already learned algebra don't fucking try and teach me arithmetic#ughhhhhhhhhhhhhh I'm so annoyed#“wow you type so fast” yeah yeah can we get back to talking about things?#was gonna talk about the year it's been since I tried to kill myself and she's like “now I know talking about your feelings can be scary”#I'm not fuc king scared of being open I'm usedto being open and easily read stop projecting and assuming ughhh hh foaming at the mouth rn#if anything it's a problem that talking about emotions isn't scary cause I'm so fucking detached from them they're happening to someone els#someone else not me it's not me who feels emotions its whoever else is in here I'm at the keyboard but I can't see the screen#life is just co-op gaming with myself and we share functions and we're so in sync we don't recognize the other as separate usually#but he's got the emotions today actually that's not true I've got the rage I've got the anger I'm going into self defense mode I can feel i#I#tag talk#vent#iteration- *checks notes* 5 of feeling smarter than the therapist I got assigned#today we spend thirty minutes going over how anxiety is actually a kind of fear. wow so amazing and cool#I'm really learning so much here about how Im here because I recognize I have patterns of behavior that I can't find the root cause of#Im going to leave before I just start ranting. anyway. I'm annoyed nobody fucking understands us when we're talking
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reinemichele · 9 months
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Just like that, ah Wait for me From now on, ah I'll come pick you up More than anyone else, you're my heaven Definitely, every time... This love story is getting tiring Spinning without making any progress A racing game to catch you A burning love story Don't stop, it's not over yet You're the energy that fills me up If I wanna, I can run away, without a trace Break down the wall and just overcome it Just keep moving and moving forward A resounding roar Like I'm trying to steal your body I'll hold on and won't let go I'll make it right now
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seospicybin · 21 days
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I DARE YOU.
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Felix x reader. (s)
Synopsis: The shy you meet the charming stranger, Felix, through a dare that leads you both into a whirlwind of a night filled with new, unexpected things. (17,6k words)
Author's note: It’s a late bday fic for Felix. I had soooooo much fun writing the smut in this one and I rarely said that so I hope you had fun too reading it x
Not this—being in a loud, dark club with Rex and her friends, a group of people you barely know, and the alcohol in your glass isn't any less foreign, a poor substitute for your usual chamomile tea.
A typical Friday night for you usually means snuggling on the sofa with your favorite blanket, a book in hand, and a cup of tea.
The music is thumping, the strobing lights flickering incessantly, and the sheer chaos of it all overwhelms your senses. It's overstimulating, like stepping into a world where you don't quite belong.
But here you are, trying to push past your comfort zone for one night, specifically for your best friend, Rex. You make the exception because it's her birthday.
You've known Rex since high school, and to this second, you're still not entirely sure how you two became best friends.
Rex is everything you aren’t—fierce, vibrant, and unapologetically confident—while you are introverted, shy, and awkward. Yet somehow, in that contrast, you found something that clicked. Maybe it's the way she effortlessly pulls you out of your shell or the way she always has your back without needing to say much.
For almost eight years now, this unlikely bond has stood the test of time, bridging the gap between your quiet, dull world and her wild, colorful one.
However, at times, the stark contrast between you and Rex pushes you to the edge. She thrives on excitement, constantly seeking new experiences, while you cling to routine. You like the comfort of predictability—having the same breakfast every day, enjoying the calm of your familiar surroundings. Rex, on the other hand, is always nudging you, sometimes even shoving you, to break free from that comfort zone. She wants you to explore, to live a little, and while you appreciate her intentions, it can feel overwhelming. She never seems to understand that trying new, exciting things isn’t natural for you the way it is for her.
Just like tonight. Rex has convinced everyone to play Never Have I Ever, and it quickly becomes apparent how out of place you are.
Every statement, every confession, is about wild, reckless things—everything you’ve never done. With each round, your glass remains untouched while everyone else takes shots, laughing as they reveal their mischievous pasts.
By the time the group is tipsy and lightheaded from confessing their wild and naughty escapades, you are still as sober as ever, quietly sitting there, feeling even more like a fish out of water.
Rex eventually notices your lack of participation. She puts down her glass and says, “Alright, this is getting boring. Let’s change the game!”
You notice her eyes flicking to you, and you feel your heart sink. “But I’m having fun,” you assure her, forcing an awkward laugh.
Your words are not entirely false. It isn’t like you aren’t having fun—it just isn’t your kind of fun.
Rex smirks, knowing you too well. She can see through your calm façade. “Sure you are. Alright, Never Have I Ever cheated on a test?"
Everyone else laughs, raising their glasses to take a shot, but your glass stays put.
“Guys, you shouldn’t cheat on...” your words trail off as you notice the looks they give you.
“See?” Rex says, turning back to you. “It’s not fun if you’re not participating.”
You scoff, but you can't really argue. It's true. The game isn’t exactly designed for someone like you.
“I’m still having fun,” you insist with a faint smile, but even you can hear how fake that sounds.
Rex lets out a sigh and scoots closer to you. “It’s my birthday, and I want my best friend to have fun on my birthday.”
One of her friends groans, putting her glass down with an exaggerated eye roll. “Whatever, I’m hitting the dance floor.” She slides out of the booth, and the rest follow, leaving you and Rex alone.
Maybe Rex’s birthday has become a bit boring because of you, but you told her before that you would’ve preferred a small gathering at your apartment, maybe just the two of you.
“I’m sorry I’m ruining your birthday,” you mumble, feeling guilty for being a party pooper and aware that it's unfair to her.
However, Rex’s attention has already drifted elsewhere—on someone, to be exact. She turns her head back at you with her eyes twinkling with mischief.
“He’s been checking you out,” she whispers against the loud music.
You snort and shake your head in disbelief, glancing in the direction she subtly nods toward, checking if she's telling the truth.
Across the room, a guy with bleached blond hair and tattooed hands sits casually, dressed in a leather jacket. His fair skin and delicate features are striking, but you can’t help but laugh to yourself. There is no way he is checking you out—not when Rex, your stunning, lively best friend, is sitting right next to you.
Before you can argue, Rex turns your head toward him. Your eyes lock with his instantly, and your heart skips a beat. You tell yourself it's just the loud, thumping music making your chest pound like that. He smiles faintly at you, and you quickly look away, feeling heat rise in your cheeks.
“Okay, new game!” Rex suddenly announces, clapping her hands.
You blink in shock. “Wait, what?”
“Don’t worry, it’s just between you and me,” Rex says with a mischievous grin, taking a second to sip her drink.
You raise an eyebrow, wary of what she has in mind. “Okay...?” you respond nervously.
“Truth or dare,” Rex finally reveals, her eyes gleaming with trouble. “But here’s the twist—there’s no truth.”
“Rex, I don’t—” you begin, but she cuts you off by covering your mouth with her hand.
“It’s my birthday,” she says, her voice low yet commanding. “You’re obliged to do whatever I ask.”
You sigh, nodding reluctantly. Rex removes her hand and holds yours instead, her fingers cool and reassuring despite her devious smile.
“My dear best friend,” she says, that mischievous grin lingering on her red-painted lips, “I dare you to kiss that guy.”
Your eyes follow her finger, and it's pointing at the bleached blond guy with the tattooed hands across the room.
“What? No way!” You blurt out, eyes widening in shock.
“Come on! It’s just a kiss. You can do it," Rex says casually, showing how different the two of you view this dare. She then squeezes your hand and adds, "Besides, he’s been staring at you all night.”
Your heart pounds, not from the music but from the sheer terror of Rex’s dare. Kiss a stranger? In a club? You aren’t Rex—confident and fearless. You’re the girl who barely participated in Never Have I Ever because the wildest thing you’ve ever done is stay up late to study for finals.
“But I… I don’t know him,” you stammer, your palms getting sweaty on your lap.
“That’s the point of the game!" Rex says lightly. "And it’s not like he hasn’t noticed you. He smiled, didn’t he?”
The idea terrifies you, but there is also a small part of you—buried deep under all the shyness and caution—that is curious. What if you step out of your comfort zone for once? What if you do something wild, something you’d never do on your own?
As if she hears your thoughts, Rex leans closer and softly says, “You’ve spent your whole life playing it safe. It’s just one kiss. What’s the worst that could happen?”
You glance back toward the guy. He’s still sitting there, calm and collected, his long bleached-blonde hair falling effortlessly around his face. He hasn’t looked away since your brief, flustered glance earlier. Instead, he seems… unfazed, but there’s something curious in his eyes, like he’s still watching, waiting.
“I can’t,” you mutter again, shaking your head, feeling that familiar wave of discomfort rise in your chest.
Rex leans in closer, holding your hand gently. “Look, I’m not trying to make you uncomfortable. I just want you to have fun for once, not think about everything so much. You trust me, right?”
Of course you trust her. Rex has been by your side for eight years, through thick and thin. As wild as she is, she always has your back, no matter what.
The logical part of your brain screams at you to refuse, to stay in your lane. But there’s another voice, quieter but growing louder with each passing second, telling you to just do it, to be bold, even if just for one night.
You inhale deeply, your hand still in hers, and with a shaky voice, you say, “Fine. But if I make a fool of myself, I'll kill you and leave your body in a ditch.”
Rex bursts out laughing, not finding your words threatening at all. “Deal! Now go get him, tiger!” she says, giving you a playful slap on the butt.
“I can’t believe I’m about to do this,” you mutter under your breath, standing up on legs already turning to jelly.
You look over your shoulder and find Rex grinning, clearly delighted. As encouragement, she gives you a nudge in the guy's direction.
As you walk toward him, each step feels surreal, heavier than the last. It doesn’t take long before the guy notices you, and to your surprise, his faint smile grows.
When you finally stop in front of him, you don’t know what to say. Your throat tightens, and for a moment, you regret even considering the dare. But despite everything, you hear your own voice ask, “Do you mind if I kiss you?”
There's no turning back now, and it’s not like he's the type to say no, not with the way he's looking at you—intrigued. And despite the panic in your chest, there’s something thrilling about the way he watches you.
He looks at you with a mix of surprise and amusement, then his smile turns soft. “How could I say no to that?” he says, his voice surprisingly low and deep.
Not giving yourself time to overthink, you close the gap between you and him, leaning in as he does the same until your lips and his meet in the middle.
The kiss isn’t wild or reckless like you imagined it would be. It’s gentle, slow, and—much to your surprise—perfectly in tune with the moment. It feels like the first time you’ve ever kissed anyone, full of nerves, fluttering excitement, and the kind of tenderness you hadn’t expected from a stranger.
When you pull back, your hand flies to your lips, barely believing you’ve just done that. Your heart is still racing, but this time, it isn’t just from fear. You feel the thrill and rush of stepping out of your comfort zone, and you think... maybe you can push yourself a little more, just a little bit.
Absentmindedly, you open your mouth and ask, “Do you want to get out of here?”
-
It's a typical Friday night for Felix—hanging at the club with his friends, having a few drinks, casually watching the scene. The same kind of night he's had countless times. His eyes wander across the room, drifting from one group of people to another, and then… he sees you.
You're completely out of place, dressed in something someone would wear to church on Sunday, your glasses slightly sliding down your nose, sitting with your hands clasped tightly in your lap. The glass you're holding? He's pretty sure it's just an accessory for your idle hand. Then he observes the people you're with—they're clearly here to let loose and have fun, his usual type—the kind of girls who are bold and uninhibited. But you? You're different, and that’s what intrigues him.
Felix isn’t being judgmental. He knows everyone needs to blow off some steam once in a while, but there's something about seeing you in this environment that captivates him. You don’t belong here, not really, and yet here you are. The juxtaposition of your quiet presence amidst the chaos of the club fascinates him. He finds himself watching you without meaning to, drawn to how out of place you are.
Then, your eyes meet. You look right at him from across the room, and he doesn't look away. He holds your gaze, wondering if you’ll hold it too, but you drop your eyes almost immediately.
The shyness in that simple act is oddly cute because most girls he meets in places like this are bold, forward. They don't shy away from eye contact, but you? There is something sweet in your hesitance.
The second time you glance over, Felix notices a change. You're a little braver, and this time, you don’t just look—you stand up. Your steps are hesitant but purposeful as you cross the room, and before he can think too much about it, you're right in front of him.
“Do you mind if I kissed you?” you ask, your voice soft, small yet determined.
Felix raises an eyebrow, surprised but amused. He can’t help but smile at the way you asked for permission. Most girls don’t ask—they just do. But your politeness, your shyness, the way you're so out of place in this club yet standing in front of him, asking so sweetly—it's irresistible.
He looks at you, his smile widening. “How could I say no to that?”
A kiss has always just been a kiss for Felix—a simple way to satisfy some biological need, with no deeper meaning behind it. But this? This kiss doesn’t feel like that.
The kiss takes him back to something he hasn’t felt in years—the thrill of a first kiss. The kind that's innocent, pure, and full of nervous excitement. He can’t remember the last time he had a kiss that made him feel like this—something chaste but electrifying all at once.
As you pull away, Felix almost groans in protest. He wants more, needs more of that flutter, that spark. His lips tingle, and he can tell yours do too, as your hand flies up to your mouth as if you can’t believe what just happened.
"Do you want to get out of here?" you ask, your voice shy, but with a daring edge that Felix hadn’t expected.
Your charm is something else—shy and demure one moment, then bold and forward the next, endlessly fascinating him. There's just something about you that makes this feel less like a random encounter and more like something worth exploring.
Consider his curiosity piqued, eager to see where this unlikely encounter will take him next. He meets your gaze, a playful smile tugging at his lips, then he says, "Lead the way!"
You turn, feeling the heat of his presence close behind you as you make your way through the packed club. The noise slowly recedes, replaced by a focused, almost intimate atmosphere between you.
As you reach the exit, Felix places a hand on the small of your back, guiding you through the crowd. Once outside, the cool night air hits you, a refreshing contrast to the club’s stuffy heat.
Felix glances at you, his smile still in place, and asks, “So, what’s the plan?”
-
To be honest, you have no idea why you asked him out. You acted spontaneously, which is unlike you, but you know what you want. You crave the thrill and the excitement, and ultimately, more of that explosive kiss. 
Without thinking, you reach for Felix’s arm, pulling him toward the dimly lit alley next to the club. The urgency between you both is palpable, the energy from that brief kiss still simmering just beneath the surface. 
As soon as you're out of sight from the street, Felix pins you against a stack of old crates filled with empty beer bottles. His hands find your waist and pull you close. Your lips collide again, this time more passionate, more intense. Your heart is beating out of your chest as your fingers tangle in his long hair. 
In the intensity of the moment, you lean back slightly, misjudging the proximity of the crate. Your head strikes the edge with a sharp thud, and the sudden pain makes you wince. 
You gasp and accidentally break the kiss for a second, but you decide to laugh it off—you don’t want to ruin the moment. 
“Are you okay?” he asks, his voice tinted with concern. 
“I’m fine," you say, half-laughing. 
Felix smiles, though concern fills his eyes as he leans in close. “Are you sure?” 
“Yeah, I’m okay, I’m—” you begin to blabber, wanting to resume the heated moment by leaning in for another kiss, but you immediately stop when you notice the shift in his expression. 
His hand reaches up to the side of your head, and that’s when you feel it too—the warm, sticky sensation spreading through your hair. Then, he shows you his fingers, coated with your blood. 
“I don’t think you're okay,” he mutters, his voice suddenly serious. “You’re bleeding.” 
You can feel the adrenaline and embarrassment mingling as the pain begins to set in. 
Felix gently touches your shoulder, trying to comfort you as he guides you away from the alley. “We need to get this checked out. We need to go to the hospital.” 
Oh, no! This was supposed to be your night of finally breaking out of your shell, not a night where you make a fool of yourself in front of a hot guy. 
“It’s not a big deal. I don’t need to go to the hospital,” you insist, trying to brush off the situation. 
He shakes his head firmly, but his hand remains gentle on the small of your back. “We’re getting this checked out. You can’t just ignore it.” 
Without taking any of your excuses, Felix hails a taxi until one stops and pulls to the side of the road. He helps you get in, and on the ride to the nearest hospital, he checks on you every once in a while, asking if you're okay. His tatted hands and rough exterior are such a contrast to his gentle, attentive demeanor. 
That only makes you hate how the night has taken a turn. The two of you could have done more than just kiss by now if it weren’t for you bumping your head on a stupid crate. 
“Come back if you feel dizzy, nauseous, or if there’s a ringing in your ears,” the doctor says as she takes off her latex gloves, leaving the nurse to finish the rest. 
Despite the night’s earlier excitement, you feel a tinge of embarrassment about the whole incident. You're thinking of faking a concussion just to stay the night in the emergency room, but you're aware that would only make him worry more about you. 
Guess there's no other option but to push your way through this humiliation. 
As you step out of the emergency room, you see him standing against the wall, looking impossibly cool in his rough leather jacket. With his striking features, he could’ve been doing a photo shoot for a magazine. 
“Hi,” you nervously greet him. 
The adrenaline has drained from your body, leaving you feeling deflated. It's like the girl who kissed a stranger in a dark alley has vanished, replaced by your usual shy, awkward self—plus, you now have a bandage on your forehead. 
The magic of the night has faded, and you wouldn't blame Felix if he decided to leave now that he’s met the real you. He glances up from his phone, a soft smile stretching across his lips. 
“Hey. You okay?” he asks, putting his phone back into the pocket of his leather jacket. 
“Three stitches, no concussion,” you say, trying to sound casual. 
“Oh, that’s a relief,” Felix sighs, visibly relaxing. 
“You know, you don’t have to wait for me. I can deal with this myself,” you say, feeling a little guilty. He’s already done enough by helping you get to the hospital. 
“I can’t do that,” Felix says, his voice steady. 
“Why not?” you ask, genuinely curious. 
“I can’t just leave when you’re hurt,” he answers simply, as if it were the most natural thing in the world. 
That's such an unexpected answer from an unexpected man. He barely knows you, yet here he is, waiting outside an emergency room just to make sure you're okay. That thought warms you—but then it hits you: you don’t even know his name. 
“Unless I’m actually concussed… do I know your name?” you ask with a shy laugh. “Or did we skip introductions?” 
Felix chuckles, holding out his hand to you. “Felix,” he says, his deep voice sending a pleasant shiver through you. 
You take his hand, offering your name in return. “Nice to meet you, Felix.” 
It's about to get awkward from here, you can feel it. The momentum of the night has stalled, and now you aren’t sure what to say or do. You like him, but it feels like the window to continue this spontaneous night has closed. Maybe it’s better to retreat. 
“I’d better head home,” you mutter in defeat, but deep down, you hope the end of the night won’t feel as anticlimactic as it seems. 
To your surprise, Felix straightens up from the wall and turns toward the exit. With a warm and genuine smile, he offers, “Let me take you home.”
-
As Felix stands outside the emergency room, leaning against the wall, he notices you stepping out, looking more like yourself again—shy, awkward, but also kind of endearing. He can see the hint of embarrassment in your eyes, like you're expecting him to vanish now that things aren't as wild as they were earlier. But you have no idea he isn’t that kind of guy, not when it comes to this. 
You walk over, your voice soft and uncertain as you greet him, “Hi.” 
“Hey. You’re okay?” he puts on a smile, relieved that you're okay. 
“Three stitches, no concussion,” you answer, trying to play it down. 
“That’s a relief,” he sighs. 
Honestly, if anything worse had happened to you, he would’ve felt responsible, and he can’t live with that. Sure, his appearance might have given off the wrong vibe, but that doesn’t mean he doesn’t care. You need help, so he helps you. 
“You know, you don’t even have to wait for me. I can just deal with it myself," you awkwardly clasp your hands in front of you and keep avoiding his eyes as you speak. 
“I can’t do that,” he says; there’s no way he leaves you alone after everything. 
“Why not?” you ask, genuinely confused. 
Felix doesn’t really have an answer to that, so he slowly shrugs and says, “I can’t just leave when you’re hurt.” 
You give him this look, like you're trying to figure him out. He guesses you don't expect him to care, but he does, and that is that. 
A moment passes in silence, and you shift awkwardly in front of him. “Unless I’m actually concussed... do I know your name, or did we skip the introduction?” 
It only hits him now that you both indeed haven't introduced each other. He chuckles and holds out his hand. “Felix.” 
You take it, and your hand feels warm and delicate in his. “Nice to meet you, Felix.” 
You seem like you're about to wrap up the night, but he can see it in the way you're fidgeting, like you're ready to go but also unsure about how to end things. 
“I’d better head home,” you mutter, your voice almost apologetic. 
But Felix isn’t ready to end the night, and he can tell you don’t want to, either—you just don’t have the nerve to ask. And honestly, he doesn’t want the moment to slip away, so he decides to give you an out. 
“Let me take you home,” he offers, and when your eyes meet his, he can see the relief flicker across your face. 
When the taxi pulls up outside your apartment building, he watches you try to act cool, but he can tell you’re hesitating. You don’t want the night to end any more than he does, but you aren’t going to say it. 
Felix has been with enough people to know when someone is too shy to speak up, and you are definitely in that space. He leans in slightly and asks, “Do you mind if I come in for a bit? I’m afraid I need to use your bathroom.” 
Your face lights up with a smile you can’t hide, and he has to hold back a grin of his own. 
“I don’t mind at all," you say, trying so hard to conceal the excitement in your voice. 
The two of you head inside. You lead the way to your apartment, climbing the stairs, giving him a view of your back as the hem of your dress sways while you walk until you reach the fourth floor.
Thank God for that! If you climbed another flight of stairs, he would have followed his intrusive thoughts and dropped to his knees to peek under your skirt to see what kind of underwear you’re wearing. 
Felix bets it's white, cotton, probably with cute floral prints. He shakes the thought away when you abruptly stop walking as you arrive at the front door of your apartment. 
Once you unlock the door, you open it and step aside to let Felix in. He flashes you a smile as he steps in the small yet cozy apartment. He glances around and sees the pictures on the wall, mostly of you and a tall girl with curly brown hair. He remembers her as one of the girls you’ve been with at the club. 
“The bathroom is that way,” you tell him, and Felix makes his way down the hall. 
Once inside, he wastes a bit of time washing his hands, fixing his hair, checking the hair products, all the while giving you a moment to settle. 
When he comes out, you’re in the kitchen, your hair now tied back into a low bun, exposing your neck and the soft tendrils of hair on the nape of your neck. You look… different, but still really cute. 
“Would you like a drink?” you ask, sauntering your way to the fridge. 
“Anything cold would be nice,” he answers. 
You take two cans of soda out of the fridge, bringing them with you to the living room and sitting on the small sofa. 
“Sit down, please,” you say, permitting him to sit in the space next to you since there’s no other place to sit. 
“This is a nice apartment,” he comments, his eyes glancing around while his hand works the tab on his soda can. 
“Thanks,” you mutter with a smile, holding the can of soda in both hands. It has been opened, but you're not drinking it. 
"I can safely assume you live with a roommate?" he asks, then takes a gulp of his soda, which instantly refreshes him. 
"Yes," you answer. "Rex, she’s one of the girls... back in the club," you awkwardly explain, confirming that he's right—she's the same girl from the club. 
"Is it short for Tyrannosaurus—" he pauses for dramatic effect, "—Rex?" 
You let out a chuckle and push your glasses up your nose. "Her real name is Rebecca, but she insisted on being called Rex because it's..." 
"Sounds cooler?" he easily guesses. 
"Yeah," you nod in confirmation, "and it's her birthday today, so..." 
"That's why you were at the club?" he asks, slowly getting his curiosity answered. 
"I think it's obvious that I wasn't there because of my own volition," you openly admit. 
Felix can see it now—the way you seemed out of place back at the club. It isn’t your scene, and it makes sense now that you explained it is Rex’s thing. He hesitates, feeling a question burning in his mind, one that he needs an answer to, regardless of what it might reveal. 
"And the kiss?"
-
Oh, no! Not this again. 
Please don't say that Felix is actually interested in Rex and that he was checking her out instead of you. This wouldn't be your first time, but what a pity! What a pity it would be if that turned out to be true. 
Until Felix asked about the kiss and whether it was Rex’s idea or not. 
Your throat tightens, but you know you have to be honest. “Rex dared me to do it,” you admit, your words tumbling out faster than you wanted. 
He nods, but you can see a flash of disappointment in his eyes—brief but noticeable. Before he can respond, you rush to explain the rest of the truth. 
“But the one we shared in the alley? That was me. I wanted that,” you add. 
Felix gives you the chance to explain more, so you continue, determined to make him understand. You put your can of soda on the table and inhale before speaking. 
“Earlier, during this game Rex and her friends played, they were talking about all these wild things they’d done, and I just sat there... realizing how much I’ve missed out on.” You pause to let out a sigh as the weight of your confession settles between you. “I’ve spent so much time focused on studying, hitting all my academic goals, that I never gave myself the chance to live. And I don’t want to wake up one day full of regret for not taking chances.” 
You look up from your lap at him—not necessarily meeting his eyes, or else you'll be a nervous wreck. “So tonight, I decided to push myself for once. The kiss might’ve started as a dare, but when I pulled you into that alley… that was real. For the first time in my life, I felt so alive.” 
Felix remains quiet for a moment, his eyes searching yours, taking in every word. You can feel his hesitation, though—a cautious distance. His concern isn’t just about your head injury; it's something more. 
“You don’t have to do all that just because your friends have done it,” he says, his voice gentle but firm. “You do it when you’re ready.” 
His words hit home, and you feel a wave of realization. The thrill and the pressure you’ve felt earlier are starting to clash with a deeper understanding of what you really want. 
You may be naïve and know little about this intimate stuff, but you're also the one who knows you best, and you know what you want—you want this. 
“I’m doing this for me. I want it. I'm ready," you unequivocally say, full of conviction. 
Felix’s expression softens, but doubts linger in his eyes. “I think you know what kind of guy I am. I don’t do relationships. I… casually date. I’m not a good guy.” 
You can’t help but smile at that, shaking your head in disagreement at his last statement. “You insisted on taking me to the hospital, waited until I got treated, and then made sure I got home safely. If that’s not a good guy, I don’t know what is,” you lay out all the facts on why he isn't what he says he is. 
He sighs, clearly conflicted, running his hand through his long, bleached hair. “I’m just not sure if you really want to do this… with me.” 
“I want to do this with you," you say without the slightest doubt. 
There's a reason why he's here when he had his chances to walk out of this situation. He could have ditched you back there in the club, in the dark alley, or at the hospital. He could have gotten into that taxi and gone home, but instead, he chose to come in here. 
Felix is quiet again, his eyes locked on yours as he considers what you said. Then, after what feels like an eternity, he lets out a sigh, letting the last bit of hesitation slip away from him. 
"We should go to your bedroom," he says, his voice low but confident. 
The excitement flares up in your chest, your heart racing as you rise from the sofa. This is it. The feeling you’ve been chasing all night—the sense of truly living, of stepping out of your comfort zone. You lead him to your bedroom, each step heavy with anticipation. 
When you open the door to your bedroom, you pause for a moment, suddenly feeling vulnerable. It’s strange—no one ever warns you how personal it feels to show someone your bedroom. It’s not just a room; it’s a reflection of you, of your habits, your life. You close the door behind you, your breath catching as Felix steps in and takes a quick look around. 
He glances over the shelves, where countless books are crammed into every available space. A small smile tugs at his lips, a look of slight amusement crossing his face as he takes it all in. It’s like he doesn’t expect this—your quiet, introverted world clashing with the chaotic energy of the night. 
But then his eyes land back on you, and your pulse quickens. You’re alone now, really alone, in the privacy of your bedroom, and the reality of it all settles over you. You can feel the weight of the moment, not knowing how to begin but wanting to. You step closer to him, hoping he’ll take the lead. 
Felix sits down on the edge of your bed, his eyes still on you. He pats the space beside him, an invitation, and you sit down next to him, nerves tingling under your skin. 
"You have a very interesting room," he says with a playful smile, but there’s no mockery in his tone—only genuine surprise. 
You shyly chuckle, your hands fidgeting in your lap. "Yeah, I’m… very aware." 
He turns to you, his gaze softening. He’s studying you, taking you in, and when he looks into your eyes, you feel like he’s seeing something deeper. Then, as if realizing something, his brow furrows slightly. 
“Can I take them off?" he asks, nodding toward your glasses. "Will you still be able to see without them?” 
“I’m nearsighted, so yeah,” you confirm, your hand halfway to your face to take them off, but Felix gets ahead, gently removing them for you. Then he places them carefully on your bedside table. 
The world around you becomes a soft blur, but Felix… Felix is in perfect focus. He’s all you can see. His delicate features stand out, his warm brown eyes locking onto yours, his freckles like tiny constellations dusting his cheeks and nose. It’s like he’s become the center of your universe, and nothing else matters in that moment. 
You get a little overwhelmed as you take him in—his beauty so striking, so close, making your heart beat out of your chest. You wonder if he can hear it too. 
"Can I take your hair down?" Felix asks, his voice soft but deliberate. 
Unable to provide a verbal answer, you nod. His hand is quick to reach behind your head, releasing your hair from the tie, and you feel an unexpected wave of relaxation wash over you, like the tension you’d been carrying all night had been held there, in your hair. 
Felix’s fingers move through the strands gently, combing through them, letting the ends slip through his fingers. The tattoos on his hand catch your attention, and as his sleeve rides up, you notice even more ink snaking up his arm. 
"How many tattoos do you have?" you ask, unable to hide your curiosity. 
"I stopped counting a long time ago," Felix chuckles, a lightness in his voice that makes you smile. 
He notices your lingering gaze on his tattoos, and without hesitation, he starts unbuttoning the cuff of his shirt. He lets the fabric fall back, giving you a clearer view of the designs that cover his skin. The sight of his muscles beneath the inked patterns, the veins trailing down his arm, captivates you. 
"Is it okay if I touch you?" you ask, your voice quiet, unsure if it’s too bold. 
"You can touch me," he says with an encouraging smile, "anywhere." 
The last word unexpectedly provokes you; it was just a word until Felix gives it a new meaning now, and it's been echoing in the back of your mind in his deep, low voice. Anywhere. 
With a tentative hand, you reach out, slowly rolling his sleeve up higher. The tattoos become more detailed—the lines and shading intricate—but what holds your attention is the warmth of his skin beneath your fingertips. The combination of the ink and the physicality of him makes you feel a strange sense of intimacy. Afraid that you're overstepping, you let the sleeve fall back and flash him a smile of gratitude.
“You know this will be easier if you sit closer,” Felix says, his tone suggestive but gentle. 
You shift closer, trying to keep your breath steady. The space between you shrinks, but the heat from his body seems to rise, making your heart race. 
"Closer," Felix murmurs, his eyes twinkling with amusement. 
You move another inch. 
"More," he says, his voice a bit firmer this time. 
You scoot a little more until finally, there’s no space left between you. Your body is pressed against his, and the warmth from him feels overwhelming, your skin tingling from the proximity. 
"I think you should put your hand around my neck," Felix suggests, his voice a low rumble. 
"Are you sure?" you ask, still worried about overstepping. 
"Of course," he reassures you, guiding your hand up to his shoulder. 
From there, you let it drift to the back of his neck, feeling the strong line of muscle beneath your palm. 
The two of you are incredibly close; you can feel his breath brushing against your cheek. As if the proximity isn't enough, his hand cups your jaw, his thumb softly rubbing your cheek, sending a shiver down your spine. 
It doesn't take a genius to know what comes next; you can feel it coming as the tension intensifies with each passing second. 
"I'm not a good kisser," you blurt out, your insecurities successfully breaking through the haze of the moment. 
"You did just fine earlier," he says, watching as his thumb swipes across your lower lip. 
You try to argue, but before you can say another word, Felix presses a soft kiss to your cheek, leaving a searing warmth behind. 
"Stop thinking and just..." he trails off, kissing just beneath your eye, sending a shock of sensation through you, "… do it." 
Before you can process his words, his lips find yours. The kiss is electric and powerful, wiping away every doubt and insecurity. The world narrows down to the feeling of his mouth on yours, the sound of your breath mingling in the quiet of your bedroom. 
Felix pulls away just enough for you to catch your breath, his hand moving to brush your hair to the side. He does it carefully to avoid accidentally touching the bandaged wound on your forehead. 
"Now," he says, voice deep with desire, "we’re going to put in a little tongue." 
Dazed and a little disoriented from the kiss, you nod, your brain unable to compute a word. 
He kisses you again, this time slower, more deliberate, teasing you with his tongue as it slides across your lips. It’s sensual and intimate, and when you let him in, the kiss deepens, and you try your best to move in sync with him. 
When Felix pulls away, he’s grinning, looking impressed. "See? You’re a natural." 
Flustered, you look down, but he isn’t having it. He wants your eyes, your full attention on him, so he puts his hand under your chin, gently angling your face back toward his. 
Not giving you a moment to think, he plants a kiss on your lips again—gently, but there’s intensity to it, a sense of hunger that needs to be satisfied. 
At the same time, his other hand travels down to your back, tracing down your spine before he withdraws it back to your front, reaching for the button of your dress. 
You've been handling it well so far, but when he touches you there, it triggers the alarm bells in your head. You try to convince yourself that it's okay; you trust Felix, and he's not going to harm you, but your body abruptly freezes, and you stiffen against him. 
Felix notices immediately and takes his hands off of you, concern painted on his small face. 
"Did I do something wrong?" he asks softly, not wanting to alarm you further. 
First, it was Rex’s birthday party, and not long after that, you did it again by bumping your head during a makeout session in the dark alley, and now this. You sigh and look down at your lap, wondering why you keep sabotaging your life like this. 
"I’m sorry, I just... I–I wasn’t ready for that," you meekly say, looking down at your lap, feeling embarrassed. 
"That’s okay," he says with a soothing voice. "I’d rather you tell me when you’re uncomfortable." 
Anyone else might have been annoyed or disappointed, but Felix—he’s patient, gentle, and very understanding. You feel a rush of gratitude for him. 
"Okay," you murmur, nodding. 
"Or you can just slap me next time," he jokes, trying to lighten the mood. 
Slapping his face would feel like vandalizing the Mona Lisa, so you shake your head in strong disagreement while softly laughing, "No. I wouldn’t do that." 
Thanks to you freaking out without reason, you have to start all over again, and you can only hope that Felix has some patience left for you. 
You watch as he glances toward your bedside table, eyeing the small stack of books. "Are these the ones you’re reading?" 
"Yeah," you reply, your smile returning. 
"You’re telling me you’re reading five books at once?" he asks. His tattooed fingers trail along the spines as he reads the titles under his breath. 
"Three are for school," you say, chuckling, "but the other two are for fun." 
"Oh, so you do know how to have fun," he teases you with a charming smile that makes his eyes lively. 
You know he's trying to lighten the mood, and you feel thankful that he indeed still has some patience left in him. 
Felix picks up the smallest one from the top of the stack and flips through the pages. "Poetry," he remarks. 
"Yeah," you nod, feeling a bit shy. 
He looks at you with something new in his eyes. "Would you read me one?" 
"A poem?" you stammer. 
"No, the index page," he teases you yet again. 
You laugh, feeling a bit silly for asking, and then take the book from him. You open it, easily finding the page you marked as your favorite poem. 
"Okay... I’ll try," you say as you clear your throat.
Your fingers nervously brush the edges of the page, eyes glancing at the words, but you’re aware of Felix’s gaze on you. His presence is overwhelming—his closeness, the subtle intensity in his expression. 
Despite everything, you begin reading, your voice low and a little shaky. 
"Somewhere I have never travelled, gladly beyond any experience, your eyes have their silence: in your most frail gesture are things which enclose me, or which I cannot touch because they are too near." 
Felix leans in closer, his breath warm against your cheek. His hand moves to the back of your neck, brushing the loose strands of your hair away. 
You pause, feeling the pressure of his nearness, but he nudges you gently. 
"Keep reading," he whispers against your skin, the warmth of his voice sending a shiver down your spine. 
You swallow, forcing yourself to focus. Your voice is a little shaky as you continue. 
"Your slightest look easily will unclose me though I have closed myself as fingers; you open always petal by petal myself as Spring opens—" 
Felix’s lips press softly against the corner of your mouth just as your voice falters. You draw in a breath, trying to steady yourself, but his kiss lingers, feather-light and teasing. 
You glance at him, the lines of the poem slipping from your mind. 
"Go on," he murmurs, his mouth now brushing your jawline. His hand slips to your waist, holding you in place as if keeping you tethered to the moment. 
"I... I—" you stammer, your focus crumbling under his touch, his lips trailing a path down to your neck. You grip the book tighter, trying to maintain the thread of the poem, your voice coming out as a breathy whisper: "you open always petal by petal myself as Spring opens (touching skilfully, mysteriously) her first rose—" 
Felix presses another kiss just below your ear, making your breath hitch. He’s being gentle but deliberate, his lips grazing your skin with an intention that makes it almost impossible to concentrate. 
Your heart bursts, the words on the page becoming blurry. "Felix..." you murmur, caught between the poem and the sensation of his kisses. 
"Don’t stop," he whispers again, this time against the curve of your neck, sending a rush of warmth through you. "I want to hear the rest." 
Your voice quivers as you try to continue, the lines of the poem mixing with the feeling of his lips. 
"Or if your wish be to close me, I and my life will shut very beautifully, suddenly, as when the heart of this flower imagines the snow carefully everywhere descending—" 
His kisses grow slower, more languid, as if savoring every inch of your skin. Each one draws you further away from the poem, your pulse quickening under his touch. He pulls back just slightly, and his eyes meet yours, his gaze heavy with desire, but still, he urges you on. 
"Finish it," he says softly, his thumb tracing your lower lip as he holds your gaze. 
You exhale shakily, barely able to focus anymore, but you try.
"Nothing which we are to perceive in this world equals the power of your intense fragility..." 
Before you can finish the last line, Felix’s lips capture yours, cutting off the rest of the poem. His kiss is deeper this time, not asking for permission but claiming the moment as his own. The book slips from your hand, forgotten, as you lean into him, your breath mingling with his. 
The poetry becomes a distant memory as his kisses consume you, every touch drawing you further into him. And for the first time, you don’t feel the need to pull back or hesitate. You melt into the moment, into him, as the poem fades into the background, replaced by the quiet intensity of Felix’s lips on yours. 
The poem may be incomplete, but the moment is whole. 
-
Felix watches as you fumble with the edges of the poetry book, your nervousness plain in the way your fingers tremble. He can sense how hard you’re trying to focus, trying to find your voice in the moment.
There’s a certain charm in how unsure you are, the way your eyes keep darting up to him, like you’re looking for some kind of permission. But he knows you don’t need it. You want this—he can feel it in the air between you.
When you finally start to read, your voice is soft, hesitant.
“Somewhere I have never travelled, gladly beyond any experience, your eyes have their silence...”
Felix can barely concentrate on the words. It’s your voice—that shaky, uncertain quality—that pulls him in, and you’re so close. He leans in, pressing the warmth of his lips against your cheek, testing, teasing. He feels the way you stiffen, your breath catching. He doesn’t want to overwhelm you, but the urge to touch you, to close that gap, is too strong.
"Keep reading," he murmurs, his lips brushing your skin, barely above a whisper. He feels your pulse quicken beneath his touch.
You take a deep breath and continue, your voice even softer now, trying to hold it together.
"Your slightest look easily will unclose me though I have closed myself as fingers..."
As your voice trails off again, Felix can't resist. His lips graze the corner of your mouth, light and fleeting. He watches your eyes flutter, sees the way you're barely hanging onto the thread of the poem, and it makes him smile inwardly. He pulls back just enough to see the heat in your cheeks, the uncertainty fighting with desire in your eyes.
"Go on," he urges, this time pressing his lips to the soft skin just beneath your jawline. His hand slips to your waist, fingers curling lightly around you, holding you steady, grounding you as he teases.
"I–I..." Your voice falters completely as his lips trail lower, brushing the sensitive spot near your neck.
He loves the way you stammer, the way your breath comes in shallow gasps.
"You open always petal by petal myself as Spring opens—"
Felix hears your voice waver again, and he chuckles softly against your neck. He knows exactly what he’s doing. The poem doesn’t stand a chance against his kisses, but he likes this game, this slow unraveling of your composure.
"Felix..." you murmur, barely able to hold onto the words.
He pulls back just enough to speak, his breath warm against your ear. "Don’t stop." His voice is low, coaxing, as he brushes another kiss just below your ear. "I want to hear the rest."
You try—he can see you trying—but the way you tremble beneath his touch makes it almost impossible for you to concentrate. He watches you struggle, a mix of amusement and desire in his gaze as you fight to continue.
"...Or if your wish be to close me, I and my life will shut very beautifully..."
Felix’s lips move slowly across your skin, savoring every inch. He can feel the tension in you, the way you’re holding onto control by a thread. But then, something shifts. He presses one last kiss to your neck, soft and lingering, and watches as your resolve crumbles. The book slips from your hands, your breath hitching in your chest.
“Finish it,” Felix whispers, his thumb grazing your lower lip. He can see the words have all but left you, but he waits, eyes fixed on your trembling lips.
"...The power of your intense fragility..."
Before you can finish the line, Felix presses his lips to yours. The words are lost as he kisses you, claiming the moment. There’s no hesitation in the way your body responds, melting into him as if you’ve been waiting for this all night. The book falls from your hands, forgotten, as his hands move to pull you closer.
He feels the way you surrender to the kiss, how every bit of uncertainty you held before dissolves. His kiss deepens, slow but deliberate, until he pulls back just enough to look at you, lips still close, your breaths mingling.
Felix takes a quick check to see if you're comfortable enough to continue, his thumb brushing across your cheek as he leans his forehead against yours. He can feel the way you’re still caught in the moment, still wanting more.
His hand slides down to your shoulder, tracing the curve of your spine. He brushes your hair to the side, kissing you again—slower this time, deeper. The way you respond, your lips meeting his with growing confidence, only pulls him in more.
Felix takes your hand and gently places it on his chest. He feels the way your hand stays immobile for a moment, but then it starts to move, roaming curiously over his body. Your touch is tentative but warm, and soon enough, your fingers tug at the opening of his shirt, revealing a peek of inked skin underneath. Felix notices the way your curiosity lights up your face. “Do you want to see the rest of my tattoos?”
You hesitate, biting your lip as you think about it, unsure if you should say yes. To avoid letting him hear how eager you are, you nod instead.
“But you have to help me with the buttons,” he says, glancing down at his shirt.
It’s a subtle invitation, but the way he says it makes you feel like you’re in control. You start undoing the buttons, one by one, your fingers working carefully, as if each button is a gateway to something unknown. When you finish, you stop, leaving the fabric still draped across his chest. There’s a moment of hesitation, as if parting the shirt will reveal something too intimate, something more than just skin.
Felix senses your nerves, so he does the rest; he shrugs the shirt off his shoulders, revealing the ink that covers his chest and arms. Normally, he’s confident about his body, but under your gaze, he feels a flicker of vulnerability. You’re studying him, and he can feel the weight of it, like you’re looking past the surface.
“It’s all over you,” you mutter in awe.
One, in particular, seems to draw your attention—the dragon on his ribcage. Felix notices the way your hand lingers there, eyes fixed on the intricate design. He smiles softly, taking your hand and pressing it gently against the dragon.
“Here... feel it,” he says, guiding your touch.
Your fingers trace the lines of the tattoo, feather-light and full of wonder. Every slight graze of your fingertips sends a rush through him, and the way you’re touching him so delicately is like you’re trying to memorize the feel of each tattoo.
“Do you like it?” he asks, his voice soft but laced with curiosity.
“I had no idea I liked tattoos until now,” you innocently answer.
There's something so honest in your words, and Felix can’t help but smile, feeling the tension between you shift into something deeper, more intimate. He watches you as your fingers continue to explore, and for the first time in a long while, he feels a kind of peace in this closeness, like it’s more than just physical. There’s something in the way you touch him, like you’re seeing him for the first time—not just his body, but all the stories inked into his skin.
Then you take your hand back and fidget in your seat. You open your mouth, but no words come out. After a while, you ask, “Should I undress?”
“Only if you want to,” he says, not wanting to pressure you and also trying to make it clear that this is on your terms.
With a shy nod, you start moving, fingers flying to the buttons of your dress, fumbling a little in your nervousness. Felix notices and, sensing your discomfort, turns his head away, giving you the privacy you need. He helps by dimming the lights on your bedside lamp, knowing that a girl like you prefers the softer glow to ease the tension. Now, the room is bathed in a quiet, warm light, making everything feel more intimate, more comfortable.
“Do you need help?” he offers after a moment, his back still to you.
“I’m done anyway,” you respond, your voice softer now.
Felix hears the faint sound of your dress hitting the floor, and he inhales, preparing himself for what he's going to see. He turns his head slowly, careful not to look directly at you until he’s sure you’re comfortable. His eyes first meet yours, searching for any sign that you’re nervous, that you want him to stop, but you hold his gaze, and that’s all the permission he needs. His eyes travel down, finally taking in the sight of you.
The first thing that catches his attention is the unexpected—the matching silk and lace set you’re wearing, soft and delicate against your skin. It’s a contrast to the image he had in mind, and it takes his breath away. The colors, the fabric—it all highlights your natural beauty in a way that almost overwhelms him.
Beautiful. That’s the only word that comes to mind, but even that feels like it doesn’t do you justice. You’re beyond that. You’re captivating in a way that makes him hesitant to even touch you, as if the act itself would somehow break the spell between you.
“I want to touch you,” he admits, his voice trembling with restraint, overwhelmed by how much he desires you but not wanting to rush.
“Okay,” you say, so simply, so openly.
-
The intimacy of the moment is overwhelming. Felix is sitting there, shirtless, and the way he’s looking at you makes your skin tingle. The silence stretches between you, heavy with unspoken questions.
After a while, you finally manage to speak. “Should I undress?”
Felix’s gaze is soft, his voice gentle when he responds, “Only if you want to.”
His words reassure you, but still, your hands tremble as you reach for the buttons on your dress. You fumble with them, nervous fingers struggling to move faster. Felix, sensing your discomfort, turns away, giving you a moment to compose yourself. It’s a small gesture, but it makes you feel better, like he understands without needing to be told.
You manage to undo the last button, letting the dress slip down your shoulders and fall to the floor with a soft thud. You glance at Felix, and he still isn’t looking. He’s turned the light down, creating a softer, warmer atmosphere that eases some of the tension in your chest. It’s as if he knows that you’d rather not be fully exposed in the harsh glow of bright light.
“Do you need help?” he asks, his voice careful, like he’s afraid of pushing you too far.
“I’m done anyway,” you reply, your voice shaky but steady enough.
Felix exhales, turning back to face you slowly, almost cautiously. He looks into your eyes first, making sure you’re okay before letting his gaze travel down. When his eyes finally take in the sight of you, you see something shift in him. His expression softens, and you feel your heart pounding in your chest, almost painfully so.
You weren’t sure what he’d expect to see, but the look on his face—like he’s in awe—makes you feel beautiful in a way you’ve never felt before. You're wearing your favorite matching set, silk and lace, in a color that contrasts perfectly with your skin. You chose it thinking you might need something that makes you feel confident, but now, under Felix’s gaze, you wonder if it was the right choice. But then you see the way he looks at you, like you’re something precious, and all your doubts melt away.
“I want to touch you,” Felix says softly, his voice trembling, almost as if he’s afraid to break the moment.
“Okay,” you answer, trying to sound calm even though your heart feels like it’s about to explode.
Felix doesn’t rush. His movements are slow, deliberate. He brushes your hair aside, his fingertips barely grazing your skin, but it’s enough to send a shiver down your spine. His knuckles trace down your chest, stopping at the center, right between your breasts. His hand rests flat there, and you feel the warmth of his palm seeping into your skin, the beat of your heart thudding loudly under his touch.
“You're so beautiful,” he softly murmurs as he looks into your eyes.
You can feel heat spreading across your face. You want to say something, but the words get stuck in your throat. Instead, you just look down, overwhelmed by the intensity of the moment, by how gentle and caring he’s being.
Felix leans in, and when he kisses you, it’s not rushed. His lips are soft, and the kiss is gentle, as though he’s trying to coax you out of your shell. You kiss him back, a little more confidently this time, the warmth of his body pressing against yours making everything feel more natural.
The more time you spend with Felix, the more certain you feel that you’re in the right place, with the right person. His presence is calming, his touch patient and careful. Every kiss, every gentle brush of his hand against your skin reminds you that he’s giving you all the time in the world. He doesn’t rush, doesn’t push you beyond what you’re ready for, and that thought alone is enough to make your heart swell.
Felix holds back so much—it’s evident in the way he slows his movements, adjusting to your hesitance, waiting for you to catch up, to feel comfortable. You notice how he looks at you, always checking, always making sure you’re okay with what’s happening. He’s so understanding that you can feel your insecurities start to melt away, one by one, like the weight of them no longer matters in this space you’ve created together.
As the kissing becomes more intense, your breathing picks up, and the room feels warmer. You feel his strong yet gentle hand resting on your shoulder, his fingers playing with the strap of your bra, and you know what comes next.
This time, you decide to take the initiative and ask, “Do you want me to take these off?”
“If you allow me to,” he answers with a soft smile.
You’ve always known your body isn't the kind men fantasize about, or at least, that’s what you tell yourself. “They’re not—They’re not my best features,” you meekly admit.
Felix’s eyes don’t waver, and his smile turns into a playful smirk, one that both teases and comforts at the same time. “How can I know for sure when I haven’t seen them?”
You feel a smile tugging at your lips; he has a fair point, and you can’t argue with him when he looks at you like that—like he sees you, not just the parts you want to hide.
You nod, giving him permission, and lean forward slightly to make it easier for him to reach behind you. His fingers find the clasp of your bra almost immediately, without hassle.
The sound of it unclasping makes your breath hitch, anticipation swirling in the air between you, and then he pulls back just enough to let the bra fall away, his fingers gently sliding the straps down your shoulders. His movements are slow, with excitement simmering underneath, as if he’s unwrapping a precious gift.
And then, you’re bare in front of him, vulnerable in a way that sends a nervous thrill through you.
Felix doesn’t rush to fill the silence. He doesn’t gawk or make you feel exposed. Instead, he looks at you with a soft, quiet admiration that makes your heart flutter.
“They're perfect,” he says, and the sincerity in his praise makes your insecurities seem small, insignificant.
-
Felix's breath catches in his throat at the sight of you, bare in front of him. The soft curves of your chest stir something deep inside him, and for a moment, he has to hold back from letting his hands act purely on impulse. He swallows hard, trying to keep his cool, even though the urge to touch you is overwhelming.
“They’re perfect,” he says softly, his voice rougher than he intended. He means it. It’s not about size or shape—he just likes seeing you, just like this.
If he's being honest, you’re not what Felix thought he always wanted. But now, with you in front of him, he finds himself thinking that you’re more than enough—perfect, in fact.
He lets himself lose a bit of that self-control, his hand reaching out, grazing your skin before cupping your breast, his gentle yet curious fingers exploring the softness of your chest. They fit perfectly in his tattooed hands, and he feels heat rising in him.
“See? They’re perfect,” he murmurs, his thumb brushing lightly over your skin as if to prove the point.
You remain quiet as he touches you, but your eyes go wide, lips parting slightly, and then, unexpectedly, you run your palms over your own breasts, fingers grazing your nipples with a restless, almost nervous motion.
The sight of you touching yourself, so innocently but also with that hidden desire, nearly drives him over the edge. He has to clench his jaw to stop himself from groaning aloud.
"Why are you looking at them like that?" you curiously ask in a shy voice.
“Like what?” he asks, his voice deep and low, almost a growl as he leans in closer, needing to hear you say it.
“Like you want t-to…” You hesitate, stumbling over your words.
“Lick them? Suck them?” he finishes the sentence for you, the words falling from his lips with an intensity that makes you look down at your lap, cheeks heated.
You nod, too shy to say it aloud.
Felix exhales slowly, his restraint hanging by a thread. “Come here!” his voice is rough, almost commanding as he gestures for you to sit on his lap.
Biting your lip, you crawl onto him and sit right on his lap.. You freeze for a moment, probably feeling his hard flesh prodding under you.
"You can ignore that," he tells you, at least for now, but he knows both of you can’t ignore that for long.
Somehow, that thought worries him, and he expected you to sit stiff as a board on his lap, but you immediately settle in close, and when he puts his arm around you, you let out a ragged sigh, instantly melting into him.
Fuck, you're so close, especially that part of you, hanging so close to his mouth. He gulps air and reminds himself to take things slowly. This is about you, not him.
You put your hand under his arm and grasp at his back, your hard nipples grazing his chest in the process, and Felix can’t resist cupping your breasts and rubbing his fingers over them.
Soon, your body softens around him, but his hands grow rough as he touches you, molding you to him as he claims your mouth. The kiss is a savage thing of teeth and tongues, but there’s no hint of protest from you. Instead, you match his roughness for roughness, kissing him back until you run out of breath.
As you come up for air, he covers your nipple with his mouth and sucks hard. He pulls you close so he can do the same with the other one; this time, he has your nipple rolling on his tongue. Oh, he can do it all night, just playing with your soft mounds.
Your fingers make their way through his hair, tugging at it as you arch your back with unconscious demand. It's apparent that you love this, losing your mind over his touches.
Felix lets go of your breast, then drags his lips upward, climbing the column of your throat until they find yours, kissing your mouth with such intensity that it causes you to sharply inhale air.
As he's kissing you, his hands refuse to remain idle. He cups your breasts, stroking the buds until they ache and pinches them, sending a burst of sensation straight to your core. With caution, he takes it to the next level, shifting his focus to another sensitive part of you. He's smoothing a hand over your stomach, and he can feel your muscles clench. Cautiously, he slides a hand up your inner thigh.
“I want to touch you here,” he says while gently palming your sex with a bold grasp, and the heat of his touch spreads through the fabric of your panties, searing hot.
Your hand immediately flies to grip his wrist, intending to pull him away, but your hand stays there; if anything, you pull it back and let it rest on his inked forearm.
“Is that permission?” he whispers into your ear.
He sees the conflict in your eyes. He guesses the reason you hesitate is that this is new to you, and you don't know how to handle this side of yourself. After a while, your body wins over your hesitant mind as your hips arch against his hand, asking him to continue, asking him for more.
He pushes your underwear to the side, and as he kisses your neck, his fingers trace your bundle of nerves, circling it, then applying the gentlest of pressure to test whether you like it or not.
A low moan slips out of you, and he can feel you tugging at his hair, hard.
"Do you want me to keep my hand there?" he asks as he looks into your dazed eyes.
You innocently nod.
"All right. I'll do that," he says with a hasty kiss on your lips. He continues by tracing your slick entrance with his fingertips, touching you there lightly, trailing around and around in dizzying circles.
"Does that feel good?" he asks, barely audible.
Still unable to give him a verbal answer, you nod again.
He aims his parted mouth toward your neck and purposely scrapes his teeth against your skin before he licks and kisses you there, causing goosebumps to spread over your skin.
"Will you let me get inside?" he asks for permission as his fingers tease your entrance.
It's obvious that you want it from the way you're arching your hips against his hand, but he doesn't want to risk losing you to the nerves again; he needs to hear you say it this time.
"Yes," you breathlessly say with a small nod.
With your consent given, his fingers search through your folds, coating them with your essence, and he lingers around your entrance for a little while before pushing one finger into you.
He feels your sharp intake of air as your head rests so close to his, your teeth faintly biting your lower lip to muffle the noises you make.
Felix gives you time to adjust before adding another digit. Two fingers are inside you now, pumping them, and he curls them, finding that spot that makes you...
"Oh!" you gasp, your hand grasping at the end of his hair like it gives you a lifeline. Your legs tremble, causing you to lose your balance, and you almost topple back, but Felix is quick to grip your waist to keep you steady.
The whole thing is so cute. Felix rubs his lips to hide a grin as you steady yourself on his lap and fold your hands in your lap. He knows that if he continues, you’d likely fall to the floor. You're the kind of girl who gets weak when you get hot, and don’t get him wrong; he loves that. If anything, it makes every bit of effort it has taken to get past your guard worth it.
"It's better if we lay down," he suggests as he removes the strand of hair caught between your lips.
"Okay," you say, your voice small and filled with obedience.
Once you get off his lap, Felix takes the lead again. He stretches out near the center of the bed, propping himself up on an elbow, and pats the space next to him. No moment of hesitation this time, you crawl across the bed and lay down next to him.
Felix leans over you and kisses you, starting right back at the beginning with innocent brushes of both of your lips and teasing licks before taking your mouth once again. He wouldn't say you're that great of a kisser, but it's entertaining feeling you learn. You may lack in skill, but you make up for it with your eagerness.
He puts your hand on his bare chest, letting you roam free from there; he needs you to feel him too, how his body heats all over from his desire for you. You drag your hand down his chest, fingers trailing the hard ridges of his abs, and then you keep heading down south, meeting the waistband of his jeans.
Felix is unprepared when your hand suddenly goes to his crotch and strokes over the fly of his pants. Pleasure courses through him, and his cock jumps in excitement, a hoarse groan slipping out of his parted mouth.
He remains calm even though you've just awakened a part of him that he wants to keep tamed, for now. He notices the curious hand and then the curious eyes.
"Want to touch it?" he offers, his eyes half shut, heavy with lust.
"Can I?" you ask back instead of answering.
It's about time to set it free anyway; his jeans have been tightening around the crotch for quite some time. He unzips the fly open, then tugs at the waistband of his jeans and pulls it low enough to let his swollen member out of its confines.
Your hand lingers on his abdomen, hesitating to put your hand on the thing you're curious about.
He takes your hand, puts it on his cock, and then makes you close your fingers around it. The sight of your soft, delicate hand wrapped around his cock makes his heart thrumming inside his chest.
"This is my cock," he says, trying to keep his voice calm.
He guides you to stroke your hand on it, pumping it up and down his length, showing you the pace he prefers: slow but steady. "I want you to tell me when you want it."
You swallow air and look down to see that he's no longer guiding you; you're stroking his cock on your own, and he must say, you're doing so good at it.
He returns the favor by reaching down between your legs, touching you there again. His fingers meet your wetness, hot and slippery, tantalizing him.
After a moment, he decides to hover above you, letting go of your lips to start making a trail of kisses down your front. Your chest is heaving as he gets closer to your core, but he does the unexpected by detaching his mouth.
"Do you mind if I take this off?" he asks, fingers tugging at the elastic band of your underwear.
You lick your swollen lips and lowly mutter, "No."
He flashes you a soft smile before doing what he asked. His palm scrapes up the outside of your leg as he pulls your underwear down. You help by lifting your hips to make it easier for him to take it off.
Felix stands at the end of the bed with your underwear in his hand. He lets you watch as he takes a long sniff of it; you smell so heavenly that he wants this smell all over him. But first, he has to make it fair. He takes his jeans off along with his underwear, exposing his naked body in all its glory for you—just for you.
In return, he gets to see all of you, your body wrapped in miles and miles of soft skin. His eyes feast on every part of you, but you cross your thighs together, blocking him from seeing the thing that tantalized him all night.
He runs his tattooed hands down your legs, offering you his warmth and comfort as a way to assure you that he wants nothing but to make you feel good. When he deems you're relaxed enough, he parts your legs open, and his eyes widen as if he sees something that goes beyond what his brain can comprehend.
"You're so wet for me," he says, swallowing air as the sight suddenly makes his throat dry.
Felix satisfies his need by taking a closer look at it, his eyes darkened and fixated on the thing that endlessly tantalizes him. He licks his lips in reaction to the overwhelming urge to taste you.
He uses his thumb to circle your clit, which engorges with every motion. "It wants my mouth so badly," he tells you, his eyes dark and heavy with lust.
Felix presses his cheek to your inner thigh and, ever so softly, places a long kiss on the skin. It's close to where he wants to be but not enough. His need grows desperate.
"Put us both out of our misery and let me taste you."
-
Felix is perfect. He stands there like carved stone, but his skin is smooth and hot to the touch, firm but giving, alive. His muscles hunch and shift as he moves, and the dragon tattoo winks at you as he steps out of his pants; the motion alone is so sexy. 
This is Felix in all of his naked glory. He is perfection, even that part of him—gosh, especially that part of him. His erection demands your full attention, hard and veiny, in flawless proportion to the rest of his beautiful body. You have never given a man oral sex before, but your mouth waters at the sight of it. You want it. 
You can’t remember how to breathe as he puts his tattooed hands on you, rubbing them up and down the outside of your legs, making you tingle down there. You see how he quietly inhales air before parting your legs open and lets all the air out of his mouth as he shifts his eyes to see what's between your legs. 
It's the most private part of you, and you expect him to see it in disgust, but the way he looks at it... you see nothing but pure admiration. He puts his focus there, needing more time to process what he's seeing. 
"You're so wet for me," he says, barely audible as he holds his breath. 
He bends down close to your wet flesh, making your nervousness spike to heart-pounding levels, and his eyes never stray away from what he wants. Then his thumb meets the peak of your sex, gently rubbing it, and you quietly moan under your breath. 
"It wants my mouth so badly," he says, receiving your body's signals too well. 
The little kisses he places on your inner thighs feel soft, but you can see that it's not quite what he wants; he's so close to it, yet he handles his self-control really well. 
He closes his eyes for a second, and when he opens them, they immediately find yours. Then he murmurs, "Put us both out of misery and let me taste you." 
It hits you now that he truly wants this, you. He likes what he sees, and his craving for your most private parts is real. It's dirty but highly erotic and exciting. You want to give it to him; you do, but you doubt that the reality will meet his expectations. 
“Will you be disappointed if I don’t like it and I don’t respond like other women?” you ask, feeling a little anxious, thinking that you’re about to ruin the moment. Again. 
“If you don’t like it, then we’ll move on,” he simply says, spreading your legs wider and then landing a gentle, closed-mouth kiss on your clit, catching you off guard. 
Your body stiffens for a second, not expecting that sensuous jolt, and then you relax in the next second. 
"Hate that?" he asks with wistful, downturned eyes. 
"I..." You still can't decide if you like it or not; you need more— 
Felix lands another kiss, followed by a slow tasting of his tongue on it. He hums his approval and covers your sex with his mouth, sucking with slight pressure as his tongue laps over your clit, repeatedly. 
Your mind shuts down; your body slowly goes limp as heat blooms inside you, and your face buries in the blanket as the pleasure intensifies. This feeling is new to you; your body is in a state of shock from the immense sensations, and you feel like you're about to cry when he abruptly stops. 
"You don't like it?" he asks after getting no answer from you. "Let me try it another way..." 
Felix pushes two fingers into you, and your eyes roll to the back as he begins a steady pace, combining it with his tongue flickering over your cunt, and somehow, you can’t stop your hips from rising to meet his thrusts. 
Oh God! You're riding his hand and smothering his face with your wet cunt. You tell yourself to stop, but you can't; you find your hands tangled in his long, bleached-blond hair instead. You're tightening around him, so wet now you can hear the slippery sounds every time he pumps his fingers into you. 
"I'll stop," Felix says as he licks his glistening wet lips, then rubs his tongue over you fast and hard, making you clench helplessly around his fingers. 
"Felix..." you breathlessly call his name. You can't believe how needy you sound—almost pathetic even. 
"One last taste..." Felix says before planting his mouth on you again. He sucks with perfect pressure, his tongue cleverly dragging out the pleasure to keep your release out of reach. He presses a parting kiss to your sex and lifts his head, stopping for real this time. 
"Yeah, you look ready now," he says it so low it's almost like a whisper. 
Truthfully, you've been ready for a while now, and you love the idea of demanding his... cock and him providing it; you just can’t get those words past your lips. 
Apparently, the look on your face tells it all. As he props a hand next to your waist, he looks at you and asks, "Do you want it?" 
You stifle a nod, and you're aware that's not enough to convey how much you want it. 
His hand reaches for the strand of hair covering your face and asks again, "Do you want it now?" 
Want, want, want. You eagerly respond in your head, but you force yourself to remain calm and say, "Yes." 
Felix nods and lands a kiss along your jaw, then drags his lips close to your ear. With a hoarse voice, he whispers, "I'll give it to you." 
His warm, soft yet firm body blankets yours as his lips bombard you with kisses, each kiss peeling away your senses along with your worries and insecurities; you eventually stop thinking altogether. 
"Excuse me for a second," he says with a kiss on your lips, getting off the bed to look for something on the bedroom floor. 
As Felix picks up his jeans from the floor, you watch the muscles on his back bunch and shift as he moves, admiring the twin indentations at the base of his spine. The view is nothing compared to when he turns around, showcasing his ethereal visuals and a godly figure of chiseled abs, not forgetting his cock in a size that demands your attention. 
He gets onto the bed, kneeling and using his teeth to tear through the foil packet to extract the condom. 
"Want to help me with it?" he offers, his eyes sparkling in the dimly lit room. 
You swallow air and say, "Yes." 
Your hands aren't steady, so you and he end up doing it together, and once you’re both done with it, he pulls you close. You shiver at the feel of your skin coming into contact; your nipples graze his chest, and his length burns against your lower belly. You suddenly feel very self-conscious. 
Felix runs his hands up and down your back as he angles his head, trying to catch your gaze but keeps failing. 
“Why won’t you look at me?” 
You look at the hollow in his collarbone and hunch your shoulders forward. "I feel—I feel naked." 
“We’re both naked," he states the obvious with a light smile. 
You don’t know how to explain that you’re not only feeling naked on the outside but also from the inside, and that if he looks into your eyes, he’d see all of you. No one wants to see that. This is supposed to be fun and educational, not soul-baring.
Felix flashes you a smile as he tilts your head by your chin, and you catch a glimpse of tender eyes before you close yours, knowing that he's about to kiss you. 
Soon, his warm lips brush over yours, tasting of him, you, and sex. His hands caress you, gently kneading the flesh of your waist before grabbing you by the thighs and hooking them around him. 
Slowly, he lowers you onto the bed and then covers your body with his. He places sweet little kisses on your jaw, your neck, your cheek, the corner of your mouth, and eventually, your lips. 
“If you don’t like it, if something hurts... I want you to talk to me, okay?" 
As always, you give him a nod before saying the words, "Okay." 
"Okay," he repeats, then sweetly kisses your lips. "Now, can you turn over for me?" 
You obey him, turning over on the bed and lying on your stomach, taking in the sight of the rumpled pillows and wooden headboard. 
"Lift your waist for me, please?" he politely demands, and you do what he asks, lifting your waist off the bed as he slips a pillow underneath. 
It takes you a moment to understand what he's doing. In this position, he chooses not to let him see you, and at the same time, it makes you less self-conscious. 
"Is this better?" he asks as he places a hot kiss on the skin behind your ear. 
"Yes," you say, feeling comfortable already, but you don't think about how you can't see him and what he's going to do to you. 
A low sigh escapes your lips as his rough hand glides down your back and massages the flesh in voluptuous motions. His firm chest brushes against your shoulder blades as he props an arm on the bed next to you. 
You take a deep inhale as his hand reaches between your thighs, his fingers searching through your folds and sinking deep, pumping fresh essence out of you until it drips around them. As if that isn't enough, he teases your clitoris with gentle touches. 
"Felix..." you desperately call his name. 
"You're ready, mmh?" he asks, planting a soft kiss on the nape of your neck. 
Soon, his hard length prods at your entrance and pushes its way inside, painstakingly slow, as if he wants you to feel every inch of that delicious cock stretching you out. 
All this time, you thought sex was repulsive, uncomfortable and painful—something you kept avoiding because your past experiences validated those thoughts—until now. With Felix, you feel nothing but intensifying pleasure even after he is fully sheathed inside you. 
"Oh, you feel too good," he whispers into your ear with a low growl. 
His words make you feel all sorts of things, and you should say something about him too—how good he feels inside you, how he fills you perfectly. You try to speak like he’s asked you to, but all that comes out are gasps and sighs of pleasure. Instead, you try to communicate with your body, spreading your thighs wider for him and trying to match him thrust for thrust. 
His tattooed hand propped against the mattress captures yours, and he interlaces both of your fingers together. 
“Now, it's perfect," he whispers. 
For a timeless moment, you're hovering on the brink until orgasm crashes over you. He knows, but he relentlessly drives into you. You try to meet his thrusts, but you can’t quite match his strength and intensity. 
With your eyes closed, you dare to look over your shoulder, and he immediately captures your mouth, stroking his tongue deep into you. Before the last orgasm has finished, you feel another building. You're clenching hard, the tiny muscles fluttering around his cock. 
With a hoarse groan, Felix surges into you one last time, hard and shallow, sending you both to your highs. He rubs his lips against your jaw and neck, then lowers your shaking body to the bed. He holds you, wrapping his tattooed arms around you and drawing you even closer, holding you like his. 
With your eyes still shut, your fingers trail his forearm, feeling the defined muscle and the smooth skin—a combination that is utterly distracting. His scent, his warmth, and his solidness surround you, slowly lulling you into a dreamless sleep. 
Now, it's perfect, you say in your head.
-
Felix breathes in deeply, letting the warm, comforting scent of your space envelop him as he burrows into the sheets, a happy sigh escaping his lips.
Slowly, he pushes himself up from the bed, and your room looks slightly different basked in the morning sunlight. Like this, he can see the colors of the books on the shelf, the hats and scarves hanging on the bedroom door, and the succulents you keep on your windowsill. Under a different light, your room looks a lot more alive.
It's also illuminating the memories of last night—your shared laughter, the sweet sounds of pleasure that echoed around him, the rustles of the sheets as your naked bodies tangled under the duvet. A rush of warmth fills him at the recollection, but as he looks around, reality settles in: he is in your room, in your apartment, and he shouldn’t overstay his welcome.
Collecting his clothes from the floor, he dresses methodically, and once in a while, he can't help but glance back at the bed where you shared such an intimate night.
Once he's decent, he steps out of the bedroom, finding you right away in the kitchen. Your hair is in a messy bun, glasses perched slightly askew on your nose, and you're dressed in a simple white t-shirt and pajama pants. You are focused on reading something on your phone while quietly eating from a bowl.
“Morning,” he greets, his voice deeper in the morning air, startling you slightly.
“Morning,” you reply, a soft smile lighting up your face.
As he continues buttoning his shirt, he slides onto a vacant stool at the small dining table.
“Orange juice?” you offer, “or do you prefer coffee?”
“Not a coffee person,” he honestly replies, and you immediately pour him a glass of orange juice, your movements easy and familiar.
You turn around to put the carton of juice back into the fridge and come back with a plate of breakfast for him, serving it in front of him.
“I don’t know what you like for breakfast, but this is what I usually cook for my roommate,” you say, sliding a plate of scrambled eggs and toast toward him.
“Wow! Thank you,” he says in utter gratitude.
Felix can’t recall the last time he enjoyed a nice breakfast with the person he had a one-night stand with; usually, he’d be gone before his partner even woke.
He glances toward the door of your roommate’s bedroom, wondering if she's inside.
“The birthday girl isn’t home yet?” he asks as he lifts his fork.
“She’s probably staying over at one of her friends,” you reply, your tone casual, suggesting you are used to this arrangement.
Felix finds it convenient this way. He enjoys the intimacy of just the two of you in the calm of the morning. The presence of another person would only ruin that.
“Is that what you usually have for breakfast?” he asks, peeking into your bowl, which contains slices of fruit, granola, and yogurt.
“Yes,” you answer with a small smile.
“Ah, that explains…” he absentmindedly says, not realizing the implications of his words until you catch his gaze.
“Explain what?” you ask, your curiosity piqued.
“Uh... that explains why you’re so smart,” he lies with a casual smile, hoping to brush off any suspicion.
The truth is, your diet explains why you smell and taste so good; the thought makes him bite back a smile, recalling the events of last night.
"Oh..." your reaction is a mix of surprise and gratitude, but he's still unsure if you understand the meaning behind his words. If you do, just know that it's a compliment.
After breakfast, Felix uses your bathroom for a quick wash-up and retrieves his jacket from the sofa. He adjusts his shirt before putting it on, realizing the time has come to leave, even though he wants to stay longer.
With heavy steps, he approaches you as you stand by the door, sensing the moment is drawing to a close.
Your eyes are on him, but your hands are clasped behind your back, your eyes shimmering with a different kind of light than when he first met you. They seem more alive now, filled with warmth.
“I want to thank you for last night,” you say, a smile creeping onto your face as the memory flashes through your head as it does for him.
“No need to thank me,” he replies. He refuses to accept your thanks when you're not the only one gaining something from last night.
“We had fun last night,” he remarks, not fully realizing he is speaking for both of you.
“I mean, I don’t know about you, but I had fun last night,” he corrects himself with an awkward laugh, pressing a hand to the pulse point on his neck out of nervousness.
“I had— I had fun last night,” you shyly remark, looking away for a second to compose yourself before looking back at him, a shy smile still lingering.
“That's good to know,” he replies, catching your shyness as it creeps into his demeanor.
A moment passes in silence as you look at each other. He has so many things to say, but no words are spoken. He can see that you're struggling to fathom your thoughts into words too.
“Felix,” you call in a different tone from the way you called him last night, yet it makes his heart flutter the same.
“Yes?” he answers, his heart beating in anticipation.
You open your mouth, but no words come out, then close it again, thinking hard about whether to say it or not.
“You can talk to me,” he assures you, his hand flying to your elbow and gently holding it.
Taking a deep breath, you finally close the distance between you, pressing your lips against his in a quick, unexpected kiss.
The surprise electrifies him, but the briefness leaves him wanting more. He quickly decides it's best to ask for forgiveness later rather than permission. He cups your jaw and leans in for a proper kiss; eventually, his lips meet yours in a kiss that means so much more than that: it's a tender connection that feels just right.
As much as he likes it, he knows he has to let go eventually. He slowly pulls away, only to see a smile blooming on your face, and his lips reflexively follow suit, smiling back at you.
“I hope that’s okay,” he murmurs, but he knows he's not sorry at all for what he did.
You nod, your smile shy yet genuine. "That’s—”
Suddenly, the door swings open, and Rex stumbles in, making a ruckus with her arrival as the keys jangle in her hand and her shoes drop onto the floor, oblivious to the intimate moment unfolding between you two.
“Oh?” she gasps, stopping in her tracks when she finally notices the two of you. Her eyes glance between you and Felix.
“Oh!!!” she exclaims again when she recognizes Felix as the guy you kissed for a dare last night.
Realizing she's interrupted something private, she hurriedly clutches her purse close to her chest and dashes into her bedroom, shouting, “I’m not here!”
The moment is shattered nonetheless, and Felix knows he can't stay here for as long as he wants, not when your roommate is now present.
“I'd better go,” he says, even though he hasn’t planned anything beyond that.
“Okay,” you say in a way that makes you sound defeated.
“Okay,” Felix repeats, hoping you would say something to extend the moment just a bit longer.
But good things often come to an end. Felix shoves his hands into the pockets of his leather jacket and takes a good look at you one last time, imprinting it in the back of his mind.
“It was nice to meet you,” he earnestly says with one hand on the doorknob.
“Me too,” you reply, your smile soft and genuine, lingering in his thoughts even as he steps out of your life.
At least, for now.
-
Here you are again, surrounded by the pulsing energy of the club with Rex and her friends. You’re still the same shy, nerdy girl, yet somehow, you handle the scene better now. It's a familiar chaos, except that tonight, it's harder to ignore Felix’s absence.
Noticing that you're not having fun like everyone else, Rex leans in closer to talk against the loud music playing in the club.
“Are you disappointed that he’s not here?” she asks, her alcohol-tinted breath brushing your ear.
“Why should I be disappointed?” You scoff, trying to mask the truth. But deep down, you are counting every second since you walked in without seeing him.
“You think I didn't know that you’ve been secretly watching the door?" Rex chuckles, almost spitting her drink. "Or the way you get a little excited whenever you spot a blonde guy?"
Guilty as charged. You are caught, but admitting it feels like opening a wound. You tried not to dwell on it, convincing yourself it was just a one-night stand and these feelings... they'll eventually fade, right?
“Don’t worry,” Rex says as she gently squeezes your knee. “He’s probably still on the way.”
“He didn’t even ask for my number, Rex,” you confess, finally voicing the disappointment that has been gnawing at you ever since that day.
“Then fuck him!” she exclaims, fierce as always. “There are plenty of cute guys, and I'm sure we can find one tonight.”
"No, thank you," you flatly reject the offer.
"Why not?" Rex asks, her eyes studying you.
You scoff again, but inside, the truth lingers: you're still hung up on him.
“Because you’ve already drunk too much," you choose to lie instead, taking her drink from her hand.
Suddenly, someone enters the booth, and you recognize him instantly, even with his bleached hair slicked back. Your heart leaps at the sight of Felix. He looks just as perfect as you remember, but doubt creeps in. Does he remember that night as vividly as you do?
He stands across the table, drink in hand, smiling at you, but you manage a polite smile back, not wanting to set yourself up for another disappointment.
“How about a round of ‘Never Have I Ever’?” he suggests out of the blue, his deep voice drawing everyone’s attention.
"Yes, let's do that!" Rex enthusiastically responds while raising her drink higher in front of her.
Felix trails the rim of his glass with his tattooed finger as he thinks of something, and a while later, his eyes fiercely stare at you with a sly smile dancing on his face.
“Never have I ever... made out with a guy in a dark alley, bumped my head on a crate, gotten three stitches, and still proceeded to give him a night he can’t forget?”
A rush of warmth washes over you, either from his eyes that don’t stray away from yours even for a second or the fact that he still remembers everything. You smile nonetheless, feeling the flutter in your chest returning.
Everyone goes silent, glancing around, unsure who might have done that, except for Rex, who squeals next to you like a giddy child.
“I have,” you confidently say, out loud with a proud smile.
You take the drink from Rex’s hand and drink it in one go, wincing at the bitter aftertaste but recovering quickly.
You daringly stare back into his eyes as you take the next turn. “Never have I ever regretted not asking someone for their number?”
“I have,” he replies without missing a beat and downs his shot in one gulp.
Felix places the empty glass on the table, walks over to you, and holds his hand out to you. “Now, I dare you to come with me.”
It isn't a dare when it's exactly what you want; it's a wish come true. You take his inked hand, feeling the warmth radiate from his skin, and let him lead you away from the table and into the night.
In the dark alley where it all started, Felix pulls you close until your bodies collide, wrapping his arms around you. Impatiently, he kisses you hard and deep, full of longing.
The kiss is intoxicating, even better than you remember, and as he steers you away from the crates lining the alley to avoid any mishaps, you softly laugh.
Felix leans his back against the brick wall and holds you close, his face lingering only inches away from yours, breath mingling in the cool night air.
“Let’s avoid visiting the hospital tonight,” he playfully says.
In that dark alley, with the world falling away around you, you realize you don’t want this to ever end. You lean in, capturing his lips once more, and you melt into the kiss, bracing yourself for what you're about to ask and the answer you'll get.
“So, what now?” you ask, your fingers caressing his cheek, tracing the contours of his face.
“We can start by finishing the poem,” he says, a playful glint filling his eyes, reminding you of the lines you have barely gotten through that night.
You grin as the weight of the time you spent worrying about not seeing him again lifts off your shoulders. “Okay, but I think I need a new beginning for this one.”
This time, you know what you want, and what you want is more nights like this, more moments, and more of whatever this is between you and him, and that’s the only dare you're doing tonight: to find out what that is.
-
“(i do not know what it is about you that closes and opens; only something in me understands the voice of your eyes is deeper than all roses) nobody, not even the rain, has such small hands.”
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celestiamour · 10 days
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‧₊˚✧ ❛[ to have & to hold ]❜
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ft. logan howlett x f! reader — xmen, marvel
╰₊✧ you allow him to possess you entirely, body & soul┊1.2k words
kinktober 2024: oct 8. virginity loss
setting: logan (2017) old man! logan contains: fluffy smut!! dom logan & sub reader┊age gap, virginity loss, receiving oral & fingering, unprotected piv, abrupt ending
➤ author's note: i’m sorry for this being short and the abrupt ending, i’m just so tired from college because my substitute professor is a bitch and i have to work twice as hard just to get a 70% T-T the single mother reader is ending up to have three parts so look forward to that when kinktober is over teeheehee
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your old man isn’t sure what kind of small deed of goodwill he must have done decades ago to deserve you, but it makes him perform more of them in his day-to-day life thanks to the existence of the biggest blessing of his miserable life. every time he comes back after a long day of work and dealing with customers of varying irritation levels, there you are patiently waiting for him no matter how late into the night it was. you help take off his suit jacket and tie in well-rehearsed moments, whistling a little old-timey tune on your lips and asking him how his day was.
he’s never really been a talkative guy, so most of the time he’ll just say it was fine and leave it at that, but occasionally, he’s willing to complain and vent about something that happened that got on his nerves. all the while, you’re finishing off a freshly cooked meal with garnish and serving it to him with a smile, listening to everything he has to say and massaging his weary muscles. 
usually, however, you’re the one doing all of the talking, telling him about what happened today at work with that annoying co-worker and how you got invited to the wedding of an old friend from high school. he settles himself in the worn leather recliner and feels himself relax with your voice almost acting like a form of meditative music, and even if he doesn’t look like it, he listens to every word— you can tell because he doesn’t turn the newspaper page once and asks little questions like “who?” “when did that happen?” “is that so?” instead of just humming deafly.
he doesn’t even remember how you ended up moving in with him and acting like his housewife, giving him a taste of domestic life he didn’t realize he was yearning for. you’re just a stubborn little lady, he guesses, remaining persistent about how much you liked him despite his claims that you should steer clear of a bad man like him. he’s glad it ended up that way though, he couldn’t imagine where he would be without you by his side if you listened to him and went off with a human your own age who didn’t have the shackles he did. 
there’s always a bit of lingering guilt regarding the last part, worried that he’s holding you back from fully experiencing life like a ball and chain bound to your ankle, but you were an adult who was mature enough to make your own decisions. if you didn’t want this, you wouldn’t have spent over a year trying to pursue it with someone as headstrong as him. 
sometimes logan dozes off in that armchair, allowing you to drape a blanket over him and place a kiss on his forehead with a whisper of sweet dreams for the cherry on top. sometimes you coax him to join you in bed where it’s more comfortable, tangling your legs with his and clinging onto his frame like he was a giant living teddy bear. maybe he’ll do the same if he’s feeling particularly soft tonight instead of sleeping on his back like a soldier on active duty would. both of you always get a night of better sleep in the presence of the other, holding onto the dead weight of the other’s still body, feeling the slow rise and fall of their chest, and listening to their steady heartbeat.
yet your relationship had never gone past heated makeout sessions, not until tonight when you pleaded with him so sweetly to help you relieve the ache between your legs that you couldn’t fix yourself.
he’s hesitant at first, surprised at the slight and unfamiliar feeling of fear tugging at his consciousness. is this really okay? is a lovely angel like you really asking a dirty old man like him with the blood of dozens on his hands to be your first experience of something so intimate? he’s profoundly aware that he’s never been a good man, but maybe he would start now and let you go in your own direction…
before he could say anything, you reach out to kiss him, so tender and full of adoration to ease his worries. the way you look at him while gasping his name and making pleas for him is almost overwhelming with how blown-out your pupils are from need, looking at him like he was the only other soul in the world— like he was the only other soul in the universe who was meant to complete you.
he asks you one more time if you’re sure, absolutely sure, before taking the opportunity to 
taste the sweetness of your arousal and quickly realize that he doesn’t know if he’ll ever get enough anymore, scraping at the soft skin of your inner thighs with his beard although the pressure in your core overpowered the feeling of friction. your hands find their way into his graying hair and tug on them whenever he swirls his tongue around your engorged clit, making him groan and repeat the motion until you gush all over his mouth.
then he drags a calloused finger along your folds, collecting your slick and instinctively licking his lips at the sight of it despite just eating you out seconds before. his eyes aren’t really what they used to be, he briefly wishes he had his glasses on so that he could watch your virgin pussy take his index followed by his middle. even if he can’t quite see it clearly, he can certainly feel your walls pulsating at the intrusion as you let out a breathy whine.
you feel a bit dizzy already from your first proper orgasm, much less from the pleasurable stretch of his fingers starting to move in a scissoring motion as your cheeks burned in embarrassment from how intently he was staring like a man hypnotized. if you were in your right mind, you would have asked him to quit it, but all you were focused on was the unfamiliar feeling of tension in your torso while he praised how tight you were.
logan is exhibiting more gentleness with you than he’s ever been with anything in all his two hundred years, scared of hurting you and treating you like a fragile porcelain doll. you basically need to beg him to fuck you right because you worry you’ll be far too exhausted to continue if he continues like this, already reaching peak at least three times now and needing to pull at his belt to free his throbbing erection.
kiss him when he lines himself up with you and slowly pushes in, allowing you to feel every inch of him and taste yourself on his lips. claw long scratches into his back as you take him, allowing his regenerative powers slowly take effect yet still being able to leave lasting marks in his skin for him to admire the next day. tell him you love him when he finally bottoms out in you, watching him through teary eyes as he rests his forehead on yours, and listen to his beating heart open up to you as he tells you he does too.
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steelycunt · 2 years
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what have i done
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thealtoduck · 4 months
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Dally
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Jason Todd x Male Reader
Warnings: Smut, anal sex, bottom!Reader, top!Jason, rough sex, unprotected sex, blowjob, fingering, doggy style, porn with plot, size kink, you and Jason are both kinda tipsy, Jason is aftercare king, you and Jason are unkowingly filmed, angst ending…
N/n = Nickname
The Socialite and The Vigilante | Masterlist
Summary: You and Jason get tipsy at an event and go back to your place…
(A/n: No. 1 Hoe Anthem)
——
One of the mayoral candidates, Mr Stone, had invited the Gotham Elite for what he called ”a celebration of Gotham’s greatest”. But from what you’d heard his campaign was running low on funds and he wanted to sweet talk all the people with deep pockets.
Whatever the reason may be you were now stuck there amongst the crowd of ”Gotham’s greatest”. You’d preferred to not go but according to your mother it’d be improper to ditch such an event and in her own words ”You have to go cause I don’t want to, I can’t stand that man”.
So you sacrificed yourself to spend the evening at the party… plus Jason had been forced to go along with his family and you promised you’d keep him company.
You watched as Jason entered in the company of his family, he was dressed in a black suit, giving him a dark and luxurious look. He and his family were greeted by Mr Stone.
While Bruce spoke to Mr Stone, Jason looked around the crowd of black suits and evening dresses until his eyes met yours and a soft smile appeared on his face. Once Mr Stone left them to enjoy the party Jason made his way to you.
You were stood in a corner looking at nice sculpture when Jason approached you. ”No tie?” he asked noticing you substituted a tie with a thin sliver chain necklace. ”Never been the biggest fan of ties, Jay, you know that” you stated in a your more upper class tone that tended to come out at these types of events.
”Well, you look great” Jason said grazing his hand against yours slightly. ”You too” you said adjusting his hair slightly. ”I’ll go get us some drinks” Jason said, soon coming back with two glasses of champagne, handing you one.
He then lowered his hand in his pocket bringing out a hip flask, pouring some of the contents in his own glass before offering ”Whiskey?”. Making you let out a small laugh before holding your glass out to him, saying ”If you insist”.
You and Jason mostly kept to yourselves through the party. You listened to Mr Stone’s speech talking about how good his campaign was going but made sure to add that it does take it’s toll on him, his workers and his family. But most of all to his wallet, he had joked making light polite laughs sound out in the room.
You and Jason found a table to relax at, sipping your drinks. The event was quite the bore, the music was dull, the decorations were plain, even the champagne on it’s own felt tasteless. You were lucky Jason had brought the flask.
Soon you and Jason were joined by Mr Stone himself. ”Mr Todd, Mr St. Cloud, enjoying yourselves?” he asked, you put on a polite smile and said ”Of course, it’s quite the event you’ve put together, Mr Stone”.
”Thank you, what a shame your mother couldn’t come” Mr Stone said. ”Yeah, she really wanted to but she wasn’t feeling well, but she wishes you luck with the mayoral campaign” you lied, your mother had said nothing of the sort, you were just being polite.
”You boys are old enough to vote now, right?” Mr Stone mentioned, you and Jason shared a look, you’d both been waiting for the topic to come up. ”Yes, we are” Jason answered and you nodded. ”Well, I hope this party has helped convince you who to vote for” he suggested followed by a lighthearted chuckle.
You did your best to not roll your eyes and said with a smile ”Of course, Mr Stone, you have our support”. ”You bet, Mr Stone” Jason said in a fake cheery tone. Mr Stone then said goodbye leaving you and Jason, your expression immediately turned to disgust as Mr Stone was out of sight.
”I hate him” Jason stated, followed by you saying ”Me too”. ”Let’s get some more champagne and then get out of here” you told him, he nodded in agreement and the two of you went to the drink table. Jason emptied the last of his whiskey in to your glasses and you drank.
Once you’d both finished 2 more glasses each you made your way towards the exit, you called your chauffeur to pick the two of you up. As soon as the two of you came out on sidewalk Jason loosened his tie and you took off your suit jacket.
Soon a familiar car pulled up in front of you and you and Jason climbed in the backseat. ”You wanna come back to my place or do you need a ride elsewhere?” you offered him, Jason smiled. ”Think I’ll join you” he said placing a hand on your thigh.
You leaned in against Jason’s shoulder, as the chauffeur started driving towards your apartment building.
Luckily for you the traffic was good enough for you to be home in a short while, you and Jason stepped out of the car and you thanked your chauffeur before making your way up to your apartment on the top floor.
As you stood in the elevator, Jason’s hand once more grazed against yours, this time your fingers intertwined. When you reached the top floor, you stepped out of the elavator to your door and you unlocked it.
You and Jason entered the penthouse, taking of your shoes. You threw your suit jacket aside and led the way towards the stairs, closely followed by Jason.
You started unbuttoning your shirt as you entered your bedroom, turning to Jason who looked curious where this was going. You threw your button up aside and stepped closer to him, you unbuttoned his suit jacket and pushed it off his shoulders letting it drop to the floor.
You then pushed your lips to Jason’s, while he snaked his arms around your waist as you started to hungrily make out. You then started unbuttoning Jason’s shirt revealing his athletic chest. You started lowering yourself to your knees as you placed kisses down his abs.
Until you were on your knees in front of him, you undid Jason’s belt and pulled down his pants letting them fall to his ankles. Jason had grown hard, his bulge noticable in his tight white briefs. You pulled down his underwear setting his big legth free.
His hard dick pointed to your face. When Jason looked down the sight gave him a sense of satisfaction, you half naked ready to suck his cock. You started taking Jason’s member in to your mouth, teasing the tip with your tongue.
Jason let out a small breath as you started taking more of him in to your warm mouth. You soon started moving your head back and forth on his cock. Jason’s mouth hung open as you went down on him.
”Fuck, you’re perfect” he said holding the sides of your head, using every bit of restraint to not start thrusting in to you. You worked your tougue on his dick, licking up and down his shaft.
When Jason looked down the sight alone could make him spill his load. You with his thick cock stuffed in your mouth, shining with your saliva on it. Before you could make him cum he pulled out of your mouth.
”Your turn, rich boy” Jason said teasingly, you raised an amused eye brow at him.
He then helped you up from the floor. He let his unbuttoned shirt fall to the floor and stepped out of his pants and underwear that were pooled around his ankles. He then undid your belt before pushing you backwards on to your bed.
You spread your arm out on the silk white sheets feeling as if you were laying down on a cloud. Jason then started pulling your pants down your legs. You seductively pulled off your own white briefs before throwing them at Jason, hitting him in the chest.
Now you were left wearing nothing but your silver necklace and a pair of white socks. Jason took a moment to take in the pornographic sight in front of him and then climbed on to the bed and your naked bodies tangled together as you made out lustfully.
Jason’s hand trailed all the way down your back to your butt. He didn’t waste any time bringing his finger between your cheeks and pushing it inside you making you moan while your mouth was pressed to his.
He used his fingers to work you loose and open so you’d be ready to take all off him. Once he was done he pulled out a bottle of lube from you nightstand pouring a generous amount on his huge shaft.
You positioned yourself face down - ass up wanting Jason to take you like a bitch. Jason stood on his knees in front of your awaiting hole as he rubbed the lube along his length. He teased your hole with the thick tip of his cock as you whined in to the sheets impatiently.
And who was Jason to say no to a slut in need of filling.
He started working his in to your tightness as you gasped at the intrusion. He pushed himself deeper and deeper into your warmth feeling you clench around his cock. ”That’s nice” he whispered at the feeling of you tightly around his manhood.
Jason wasn’t a small man, he was hung like a horse. You let out heavy breaths as Jason slowly sunk himself in to you, streching you out even further than he’d done with his fingers. He said praises to you, watching you beneath him as his cock entered you inch by inch.
Once he had sheathed himself inside you he waited for you to adjust to the size of him. You gripped the soft sheets of the bed as you were streched out to accept Jason’s hung cock. ”Fuck” you swore.
Soon you were ready to take all of him. Jason started moving slowly as pushed himself in and out of your tightness. His hands were placed on the globes of your ass squeezing them softly in his strong hands.
You were starting to get the feeling of bliss everytime Jason was fully stuffed inside you, making you moan as he worked your ass perfectly. ”Harder Jay” you said wanting him to take you to ecstasy.
”That’s all I needed to hear, baby” Jason said with an audible smirk as he willfully obliged and sped up his thrusts, rolling his hips like a machine. He put a hand on your back pressing you in to the matress as he took you. The sound of his thrusts starting to sound out through out the room.
You gripped the sheets as Jason thrust deeper in to you, his dick jabbing at your prostate making you let out a delighted scream of pleasure. ”That’s right, N/n, scream for everybody to hear me fucking you” he said cockily.
Jason hadn’t realised until now how much he had been longing to fuck you again after your first one night stand during the party at Wayne Manor.
Jason moved his hand to your hips pulling you to meet his harsh thruts into you. Beads of sweat started forming on his forehead. He wanted you to feel all the pleasures sex could bring.
Jason made you feel as if you were seeing all the stars in the heaven, as his hung cock was shoved deep in your heat. ”So- ugh! Big!” you said through your loud moans. A cocky smile spread on Jason’s lips. He was fucking you so good you could barely talk.
As Jason roughly pounded himself deeply in to you felt yourself getting close to orgasm. ”Jay, I’m gonna cum” you whined as Jason showed no sign of slowing down his rolling thrusts.
Your shot your load and it splashed on to the silk sheets below as Jason continued plowing his cock in to you. ”You’re so fucking good around my cock” Jason said through his rapid breaths as he fully lost control and fucked you like there was no tommorow.
”I’m gonna cum” he soon told you.
”Fill me, Jay” you begged and that was all it took for Jason to plant himself deep in you ass and let his cock explode inside you, filling you with his warm sticky seed. He breathed heavily as he let all of his orgasm spill inside you.
Once he was done he slowly pulled out of you leaving your hole gaping from his cock. His seed soon started pouring out of you, running from your used warmth down your legs. Jason looked proudly at the mess he had made of you before he walked to the bathroom.
Coming back with a wet towel and started cleaning his seed off of your body. Once he was done he threw the towel aside on the floor. You turned around and laid down on your back. Jason sat down by your side and stroked your thigh, asking sweetly ”Can I get you anything? N/n”.
”Could you get my night shirt from the closet?” you asked and Jason immediately stood up looking through your closet until he brought out a glossy white silk night shirt. ”Why is everything you own white silk?” he questioned amused as he helped you put it on.
”Why not?” you simply asked back. You took off your necklace putting it on your bedside table. You and Jason both laid down side by side on your bed. Jason was on his back and you laid your head resting against his pec.
”You were amazing” Jason said placing a kiss on your head. ”You too” you said stroking his abs lovingly.
You both soon drifted off too sleep…
——
2 days later…
You sat with your laptop on your couch checking your emails. Some adds, some social stuff, nothing too intresting. You took a sip of your coffee and as you swallowed a new mail appeared on the screen.
The sender was not listed.
You opened the mail and read ”We have something you might not want to reach the media, Mr St. Cloud” which was all it said. Then you noticed there was a video attached to the mail. You pressed the file and it loaded until a video started playing.
Your eyes widend the video showed a boy getting plowed roughly by his by another guy, but you soon realised this was your bedroom. ”Harder, Jay” your voice came from the video making you gasp in shock. Then came Jason’s voice ”That’s all I needed to hear, baby”.
Someone had hidden a camera in your room filming you and Jason that night. You slammed your laptop shut and rushed upstairs in to your room. Judging by the angle of the video the video had been taken from your bedside table.
You were confused you only had your alarm clock and a bottle of water on the table… Then you noticed it, on the side of the alarm clock was a black spot - no, not a spot a small round camera lens.
You picked up the alarm clock taking a closer look at it to it to make sure. Definetely a lens. Enraged you threw the alarm clock in to the ground making it smash on impact. You stormed out of the room bringing out your phone knowing who you needed to call.
”Hey St. Cloud” Jason answered a flirty tone in his voice.
You could only find one phrase to tell him ”Jay… we’re completely fucked”.
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gothamite-rambler · 17 days
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Nightwing Substitute
I found out Bruce substituted as Nightwing and I know there's an explanation in the comics and I've seen the picture and yes, it looks like when your mom to dad tries on one of your outfits to prove they can fit whatever size they wore at your age, but Christ I love to imagine the a different scenario as to how this happened. Now I did learn about the canon reason and it was actually a wholesome explanation, but this is my version with a comedic side.
Dick Grayson while chasing a crook in his home, Bludhaven, one bad flip and a slip off a ramp led to one leg and one arm broken. He doesn't want to sit out crime fighting, but makes the decision for a replacement, right as the morphine hit him:
HOSPITAL ROOM - NIGHT
Dick Grayson lies in a hospital bed, his right leg and left arm in casts. The morphine drip in his arm enters his blood stream slow.y and is starting to take effect.
Tim Drake: I can be Nightwing, let me do it! Please!
Dick Grayson: Could you not yell in my ear right now.
Damain Wayne yanks Tim away from a groggy Dick Grayson.
Dick (groggy, slightly slurred): I have to patrol… I can do this… No replacement needed… I’m Nightwing, the protector of Bludhaven and, uh… whoa—
He squints at Tim, tilting his head.
Dick Grayson: Tim, when did you get a twin?
Tim: What? Where?
Tim glances at Damian, who shrugs. Dick laughs, fixated on his uninjured hand.
Dick: I have two hands?! That’s… that’s amazing! And oh my God… the wall is blue!
Jason: Those pain meds kicked in fast.
Dick: I feel fantastic… I could just… float away… You know… I love you guys so much. I’m sorry I yelled at you.
Damian : Um, it’s fine. You won’t try to sneak out of the hospital at least. 
Dick chuckles, sinking further into the bed as Bruce enters.
Dick: I want to just lay in my bed… so soft.
Bruce: The morphine is working, that’s good. Glad he’s not making a stupid decision like rushing into danger.
Jason: Yeah, that’d be dumb, right Bruce?
Bruce (annoyed): I'm different, okay? Now Dick, who do you want to patrol while you're in the hospital?
Dick (giggling): What’s a patrol?
Bruce sighed.
Dick (loopy): Patrol… haha… funny word. Patrol… Paw Patrol! Oh I want to watch that!
Tim: We’ll set that up for you later, right now who do you pick as your substitute. I’m available, can start this second.
Damian: You’re such a fanboy.
Tim elbows Damian in the arm. Dick grabs Tim’s arm and yanks him close to his body.
Dick: Do you hear the music? Do you hear the beeps and boops? It’s like the room is dancing.
Tim’s eyes shifted confused. Damian and Jason chuckled. Damian, stopping when Bruce glared at him. 
Tim: Um… yeah that heart monitor is making some good music.
Dick goes silent for a second and then snorts-laughs.
Bruce: Not to interrupt… whatever is going on with him, but Dick can you say who you want to patrol?
Dick Grayson
Paw patrol! Paw patrol! Paw patrol! Heroes on the double!
Jason raises his hand, smirking.
Jason Todd I can be Nightwing again. I mean, I did it once—no big deal.
Tim (quickly, shaking his head): No.
Bruce (firmly): Absolutely not.
Damian I would have suggested it, but they're both stubborn.
Dick: No, no, no, no, not after the last time…
Jason (defending himself): Oh come on, the guy I killed was a freaking rapist and the second only needed a few months of physical therapy.
Dick: Nope! My substitute will beeee... Eenie, meenie… minie… moooo…
Tim steps closer to Dick's bed, hopeful.
Dick: Tim, can you move my hand up?
Tim: Sure! To point at me?
Dick: No, to point at that man! Batman!
He points at Bruce with exaggerated excitement.
Bruce: Aww, Richard, you flatter me, but I -
Jason bursts into uncontrollable laughter angering Bruce.
Jason: Absolutely fucking not! That's so stupid! He thinks you can be Nightwing… Hahahahaha! The geriatric six-foot doofus with anger issues... that is the most hilarious image. He is loopy if thinks that can work!
Tim chuckled, and Damian hid a smile behind his hand.
Dick (distracted by Tim's hand): Whoa… five fingers…
Bruce (glaring at Jason, determined): You know what? I will do it. I’ll prove you all wrong! I’ll be the hero of Bludhaven for my oldest son!
Bruce stormed out. Tim and Damian exchange worried looks and follow him.
Tim: Bruce, wait! We were just kidding! He’s hopped up on pain meds—he has no idea what he’s saying!
Damian: Father, there’s nothing to prove if you’re making a fool of yourself!
Jason chuckles, satisfied he tricked his father into doing something embarrassing.
Jason (grinning): Well, kiddo, you got yourself a replacement. This is going to be amazing to witness… for us. 
Dick: Thank you, Flying Spaghetti Monster… I’m gonna… sleep now…
Dick drifts off to sleep. Jason pats his head and pulls out his phone.
Jason: Roy, you are not going to believe this.
A few hours later, after the morphine had worn off, Dick woke up and frantically called Barbara. Babs answered while listening to Britney spears.
Barbara:  What’s up Bluebird?
Dick: Oh God, please tell me that when I picked Bruce to be Nightwing, it was just a dream.
Barbara Gordon paused for a second, clearly enjoying this as she took a long sip from her water bottle.
Barbara: Nope. All real.
Dick (panicked): Oh God!
Barbara: Relax, Bluebird. Criminals in Bludhaven are about to deal with a six-foot-two, muscle-bound guy in a skin-tight suit that will beat them to an inch of their lives especially when they inevitably start laughing. They’ll be begging for your return.
Dick: Well… that’s… somewhat comforting… Just, uh, make sure he doesn’t mess with Rodney. That guy hooks me up with good tires at the auto shop. And please, don’t tell Bruce about that.
Barbara:  And risk him discovering how I’m still watching movies that are technically still in theaters? Absolutely fucking not. Hang in there, Dickard. We’ve got your back.
Dick rolls his eyes, groaning.
Dick Grayson Thanks, Barbie…
As usual, Barbara Gordon wasn’t wrong and although the Wayne family had a good laugh at Bruce in his own version of Nightwing’s suit, he did manage to take down numerous criminals and… put the fear of God in them. Nightwing did have to resew that suit after he was healed up, but all's well that ends well. Oh, and Rodney was left unscratched.
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koolaidoverwriting · 3 months
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GENERAL DATING HEADCANONS
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CHARACTERS: Eyeless Jack, Jeff the Killer, Gender Neutral Reader
Request. I wasn't sure if you meant Jack x Jeff. I stuck to separate SFW and NSFW headcanons. But you can send another ask to clarify! :)
CW: Explicit Sexual Content, But Also Romantic Fluffy Stuff, Blood, Self-Harm, Cannibalism, Biting, Not Graphic
NSFW UNDER CUT! MINORS DNI!
EYELESS JACK
SFW:
Jack doesn't feel as much empathy or sympathy as other people. It definitely takes a long time for him to warm up to you, let alone get comfortable enough to date you.
Jack is an outlier in the mansion. He likes being alone, doing his own thing. Plus, a lot of people don't like his bluntness and sarcasm.
His tar spills faster when he's upset, but it's pretty much gone when he's happy. That's why he hardly cries tar around you.
He has a hard time showing affection through his words, but you know he loves you. Sometimes, he just pops up and holds your hand, or wraps his arms around you.
When you're hurt, he tends to your wounds, cooks you warm meals, and stays by your side. It's a mutual silence where you're just enjoying each others' presence.
Jack is a bookworm. You spot the books he reads and you check them out. Jack is over the moon when you randomly reference his favourite book. "Did you really read that for me?"
Surprisingly, Jack talks a lot. He rants about his interests in gardening and science.
Speaking of gardening, he'll most definitely grow your favourite flowers for you. He'd give you handmade bouquets and flower crowns, as well as perfumes and scented candles.
Jack isn't against light–hearted teasing. He says flirty things just to catch you off guard since you aren't used to it. Most of these "flirty things" are phrases he heard from TV shows.
He does try to get you to try kidneys. If you refuse it because it's raw, he'll cook it for you. If you refuse it because it's gross, he'll shrug a shoulder and eat it himself.
NSFW:
Jack is gentle with you. He knows how much smaller you are in comparison, so he makes sure he doesn't bruise you.
If you allow it, he'll bite you enough to draw blood, but nothing more.
His ears are sensitive! Licking or biting them gets him all worked up.
Jack has three tongues that overlap in his mouth, meaning he's a fucking demon with oral sex. His tongues squirm inside of you, hitting all the right spots. He could eat you out for hours before substituting his tongues for his cock.
When he sees you're close, he only fucks you harder.
Jack's cock doesn't fit inside you all the way. Your senses leave you, and you're a drooling, blubbering mess as he rams into your entrance.
After you're done, he'll clean up any blood that spilled and kiss your bite marks. While cuddling, he asks you what you want to eat. He'll cook anything for you.
JEFF THE KILLER
SFW:
Jeff lives in the mansion and has been living there since he was 17. Before that, he lived with a blind old woman who thought he was her grandson.
Dating him means you're going to have to get used to his angry outbursts until he learns how to control them better. He tends to lash out and then apologise later. You're sure with enough patience, things might get better. Especially because you know he's trying his best.
He loves emo music. In fact, he collects merchandise from the concerts he sneaks into. At night, you get to cuddle with Jeff while some emo song blasts on his speaker.
He also plays the electric guitar and would love to teach you how to play. And if you already know how to play, he'll get really excited about duetting with you.
Jeff has had self-esteem issues since the incident. He tries everything to make himself "beautiful", taking extensive care of his skin, hair and clothes.
He believes the scar makes him look better, maybe because it distracts from other parts of his face he's insecure about. He refreshes his cut every month.
You have to remind him that he's beautiful just the way he is. There are nights where you argue over it, but you try everything you can to help him overcome his insecurities — or at least accept his flaws.
He has a knife collection. He paints the handles of his knives all different colours. Some days, you could sit and talk with Jeff while you paint knife handles together.
"Can I test the sharpness on you?" "What?" "...I'm joking."
Jeff isn't a good cook. He never put time into learning how to cook. You, knowing he has to learn at some point, convince him you're on a "cooking date" whenever you want to teach him how to make a meal.
NSFW:
I already have a NSFW post for Jeff, but these are softer alternatives for when he's in a relationship.
Known fact: Jeff will use his knife during sex. He enjoys grazing it across your skin, smiling at your "cute" reactions.
The tip of the knife scratches your thighs. Your legs twitch as he looks into your eyes with a needy look.
Jeff likes seeing your desperation. He loves it when you grind against him, begging for his cock. He'll keep his hands off you, forcing you to grind helplessly. "Horny little bitch... Yeah, tell me how much you want me."
He fucks you at a rough, unstable rhythm as he tries to reach his peak. When he's in the zone, it's only his orgasm that matters to him.
Jeff mutters profanities under his breath with almost every thrust. It's a mixture of praise and degradation. "Fuck... D–Damn slut... You feel so fucking good..."
For aftercare, he doesn't do much. Just small things like giving you water and cuddling with you in bed. It's simple and it's nice.
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!!! i'm very sorry if you meant "jack x jeff"! feel free to let me know in another ask, though!
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leclercsredhelmet · 1 month
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Enchanted ✧ Franco Colapinto
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A/N: Hello! Back with another blurb for you all, this time it’s Franco themed because I’m just so happy that one of my f2 faves is on the f1 grid! (I’m still so sad about Logan) anyways here’s Enchanted with a Hispanic reader! I hope you all enjoy reading this one <3
“These are the words I held back as I was leaving too soon, I was enchanted to meet you”
Being back in Italy has you buzzing with happiness, it’s been quite a few years since you’ve been back in the country. Yesterday you’d spent the day sightseeing and doing light shopping in Milan. This is your first big job opportunity fresh out of university and you’re extremely excited for what lies ahead. Once your alarm rang you leapt out of bed and opened the curtains. Music plays from the phone that sits atop the dresser, as you pass by the window you smile at the crowd of Tifosi chanting and you notice Charles signing their things. Smiling, you walk towards your suitcase and take out the outfit you had laid out last night.
Heading to the bathroom you change into a pair of jeans, a white tee, and a white and blue embroidered vest paired with your usual gold jewelry and white sneakers. Applying the last touch-ups to your makeup you grab your brown Longchamp bag and check that all the contents are there before grabbing your passes and the room key from the dresser. Locking the door you head towards the elevator. Looking around the hotel lobby you notice the flurry of staff getting ready to head out. You spot some drivers heading out and want to ask for pictures but you’re nervous and want to remain professional.
Briefly, you catch a glance of Franco Colapinto as he passes by in front of you and he offers a small smile once you lock eyes. Shyly you smile and tuck a strand of hair behind your ear. Noticing your phone is starting to ring, you pick it up. Your mother’s face greets you on the other line with a proud smile. Smiling you lift the phone to an appropriate angle so she can see your face.
“Hola mi amor, ¿qué tal te va el primer día de trabajo?” she asks and you smile.
(Hi my love, how is your first day of work going?) “Hola ma, muy bien hasta ahora, estoy esperando a mis compañeros para tomar la guagua al circuito” you reply.
(Hi mom, very good so far, I’m waiting for my coworkers to take the car to the circuit)
“Bueno espero que todo te vaya muy bien y voy a estar al pendiente de las redes a ver si te veo entrevistando a alguien!” she beams and you giggle.
(I hope it goes very well and I’ll be tuning into social media to see if you interview someone!)
“Oye y no has visto al chico de Argentina que sustituye a Sargeant? (Oh, have you seen the young man from Argentina that’s substituting Sargeant?)
“Acabo de ver a Franco hace algunos segundos, no hablamos pero me sonrió ,” you reply. (I just saw Franco a few seconds ago, we didn’t talk but he smiled at me)
“Esperemos que te toque entrevistar a Franco, se ve como un chico adorable y se que es de tus favoritos,” she says. (Let’s hope that you get to interview him, he seems like a charming young man and I know he’s one of your favorites)
Smiling you reply, “Eso espero mamá bueno te voy a dejar porque ya vienen los compañeros de trabajo, hablamos luego. Te amo!” you say. (I hope so, mom. I’ll have to leave you because my coworkers are arriving, we’ll talk later. I love you!) “Yo tambien amor, exito hoy!” (I love you too, good luck today!)
Putting your phone away you stand up and introduce yourself to the rest of the crew that hasn’t met you yet. Smiling, they start chatting with you as you walk towards the van that’s already waiting for everyone. Climbing in you take a seat by the window and adjust the passes around your neck, you run your thumb over the black and purple media pass supplied by Formula One and look at your picture and credentials before smiling. “The first day on the job is a little overwhelming but you’ll be fine,” one of your coworkers says. You smile, “Yeah it’s starting to feel like it,” you say with a little chuckle. Everyone smiles, “Lucky for you, we’re not leaving you to your own devices on the first day so the nerves will ease,” someone else reassures.
“It’s more like anxiety but thank you. I just want to be great at the job and have fun. It’s a little hard to believe this is happening and it’s not a dream,” you add with a little chuckle. “It’s pretty surreal but you’re going to enjoy it,” the woman says. “I’m Christine by the way,” she says, outstretching her hand for you to shake. Smiling, you shake it, “Y/N it’s a pleasure to meet you, I’ve seen you race in Dakar,” you reply. Quickly you fall into conversation with everyone and get to know them. Fans line the sides with merch and excitedly wave to every car that passes, there’s a lot of Tifosi and you smile.
“Are you hoping to meet any specific driver?” Roldán asks you. “Honestly mostly everyone but especially Charles, Lewis, and Franco,” you answer. “You should ask them for a signature or picture once you can, they’ll be happy to do it,” he says and you smile. Once the car parks you gather your things and leave the car. Adjusting your passes you walk with them and greet the workers in Italian.
Deciding to film such an important moment for you, you put an Airpod on and open Tiktok. Filming your feet heading towards the paddock, you pan up, show the entrance, and film the moment you scan your pass and walk in before capturing your reaction. Quickly you save the video and press play on one of your playlists. There’s press so of course some pictures of you are taken and you smile at the cameras. The nerves have eased significantly and now you’re just happy to be here. Picking up your pace you join Christine and Melissa and resume the previous conversation.
The paddock is quite busy but it’s all team staff, drivers, media, and other personnel. Given the news that broke earlier this week about Franco replacing Logan in Williams, everyone wants a shot at interviewing the young driver from Argentina. Making it into the media room you sit next to your coworkers and immediately begin to work. Sipping some water from your bottle you review your notes and wait for the assignments to be handed out. “And this next one is for Y/N, you have Franco in the media pen,” Melissa says. Feeling your cheeks flush, you smile and nod, “My very first interview with and it’s with one of my favorites this is crazy,” you comment and everyone chuckles.
Quickly you start to prepare by jotting down a few questions and getting into the work mode headspace. When it’s time to start heading to the paddock everyone filters out towards the media pen. At the media pen, you get settled with the in-ear monitors and microphone. Christine decides to film the moment which makes you chuckle and wave at the camera. “You got this, you look great” she encourages and you thank her. The drivers start to come out and you ask questions to a few such as Max Verstappen, Alex Albon, and George Russell. You spot Franco approaching you and you discreetly adjust your shirt.
“¡Hola, ¿qué tal Franco?” ”Soy Y/N y estoy con DAZN!” you say in your native language and he smiles. (Hi Franco, how are you? I’m Y/N and I'm with DAZN) “Hola, muy bien ¿y vos?” he replies smiling. (Hi, I’m very good and you?) You smile back, “Todo bien,” you reply. “Es un gusto conocerte, tenés un acento bonito, ¿de donde sos?” he asks. (It’s a pleasure to meet you, you have a pretty accent, where are you from?)
The question makes you blush a little and you chuckle, Franco smiles. “¡Puerto Rico!” you reply. “Ah! Muero por visitar, es un país muy bonito,” he replies. (I'm dying to visit, its' a pretty country)
“Lo es, bueno primero que nada ¿cómo te sientes al debutar en la fórmula uno?” you ask. (It is, first of all, how do you feel about your formula one debut?) “Gracias por la pregunta, estoy en una nube todavía, es una gran oportunidad y estoy muy feliz y emocionado” you smile at him and continue to ask questions. (Thank you for the question, I’m still on a cloud, it’s a great opportunity and I’m very happy and excited)
He’s been a little flirty but you chalk it up to be the Argentinian charm and once the interview ends you thank him again and he chats with you off-camera before going off. Being busy with work makes the day roll by and when it’s time to get some lunch you decide to go off on your own and join everyone else later. Heading out of the media room you walk around and pass the Ferrari motorhome, smiling you decide to take a picture of it and marvel at how amazing and fulfilling it feels to finally see all your hard work pay off.
The years away from home, while you studied to chase your dream, are finally paying off. It happens to be your lucky day because you spot Charles and Lewis walking. Politely you go over to them and ask for pictures and signatures, “You must be new, I haven’t seen you before,” Lewis comments. Smiling you nod, “Actually, I’m fresh out of university!” You beam and they smile kindly. “In that case welcome to the paddock Y/N,” Charles says. “Hopefully we see more of you in the media pen,” Lewis adds and you smile and nod. “Thank you both for the pictures, I can’t wait to see you both in red next year,” you say. Grinning, they bid goodbye to you and you head in search of food.
Spotting a stand making pasta you stand in line and once it’s your turn you order and pay. With your food in one hand and phone in the other you reply to some messages from friends. As you reply to the messages you lose sense of direction and collide against someone’s chest. Your phone, bag, and sadly your food all fall to the ground, and embarrassment floods over you since a few passersby witness the incident.
“Disculpame, no me di cuenta,” a familiar voice says. (Sorry, I wasn't aware) You lock eyes with Franco, “No, discúlpame tú, fue culpa mía. Estaba en el celular y no estaba al pendiente” you apologetically say. (No, I’m sorry, it was my fault. I was using my cellphone and wasn’t aware)
The young driver chuckles and bends down to help you pick up your things. His fingers brush yours as he hands you back your phone, “Escuchás a Taylor Swift?” he asks. (Do you listen to Taylor Swift?)
Smiling you nod, “Si, soy swiftie,” you say. (Yes, I’m a swiftie!)“¡Yo también! ¿Pudiste ir a algún recital?” he asks you. (Me too! Did you manage to go to a concert?)
“¡Si, fui a la última noche de Londres!” you reply. (Yes, I went to the last London show!) ¿Cómo te sentiste sin tener el anuncio de Reputation?” he asks with a laugh. (How did you feel about not getting the Reputation announcement?) Giggling, you adjust your bag, “Me sentí como toda una payasa,” you reply and he laughs. (I felt like a total clown)
Fran walks with you to a nearby bin and you toss the pasta and napkins. “Me siento re mal que perdiste toda tu comida por mi culpa, dejame comprarte otra,” he offers. (I feel so bad that you lost all your food because of me. Let me buy you another one.) “No, está bien no te preocupes,” you reply. (No it’s fine don’t worry)
“Por favor déjame hacerlo, me siento mal que ya en mi primer día acá accidentalmente le he tirado la comida a alguien al suelo,” he says. (Please let me do it, I feel bad that on my first day, I already dropped someone’s food by accident) You giggle, “Ay no te sientas mal, son los nervios del primer día,” you say. (Oh no, don’t feel bad, it’s the first-day jitters)
Franco chuckles in agreement, “Es tu primer día también?” he asks. (Is it your first day too?)“Ajá, me gradué hace unos meses,” you reply. (Mhm, I graduated a few months ago) “Felicitaciones, con más razón tengo que pagarte la comida,” he says and you laugh. (Congratulations, with all the more reason I should pay for your food)
Franco looks over at you and smiles, you smile back and tuck a rogue curl behind your ear. As you stand in line you chat and your stomach flutters every time you catch him looking at you. Both of you order food and he pays for your meals, walking back you’re careful to not drop it or bump into each other again. “Gracias por la comida pero probablemente debo ir a sala de medios,” you say as you start to walk away. (Thanks for the food, but I should probably head towards the media room)
Franco reaches for your hand and stops you, “Quizás esto es muy atrevido pero podés conmigo acá en el motorhome de Williams,” he pauses and looks at you. (Maybe this is a little too bold but you can eat with me at the Williams motorhome)
“Solo si quieres, si no pues esta bien,” he quickly adds. (But only if you want to) You smile at his sweet demeanor and he nods, “Okay, acepto la invitacion Colapinto,” you say and he laughs. (Okay, I accept the invitation Colapinto) “Franco por favor,” he sweetly says. (Franco, please) “Acepto la invitación, Franco,” you add and he laughs. (I accept the invitation, Franco)
Franco leads the way and you go up to the floor in the motorhome reserved for the staff and into his driver's room. “Bueno, almuerzo de primerizos entonces,” he says and you laugh. (Well then this is the lunch of first-timers) “Primerizos que se tropezaron en el paddock,” you joke and he laughs. (First-timers that stumbled upon each other in the paddock) You eat in comfortable silence and after you finish you talk and joke around. He’s made you laugh so much you started to cry and your stomach hurts.
“Me di cuenta de que tenés buen italiano, ¿viviste en Italia?” he asks. (I noticed that you have great Italian, did you live in Italy?) “Solo unos meses, hice un internado en Italia y regresé a España,” you say. (Just for a few months, I did an internship in Italy and returned to Spain) “También lo estudié un poco en secundaria y seguí practicando por mi propia cuenta,” you answer. (I also studied it in high school and kept practicing it)
“¿Cómo es que ambos somos tan parecidos ya?” he comments and you nod in agreement. (How is it that we already have so many similarities?) “Lastima que España es tan grande, si te hubiera conociera antes, habríamos salido o algo,” he adds and you blush. (It’s a shame that it’s so big, if we had met before we would’ve gone out or something) “Quizás hubiese sido una probabilidad,” you say with a little laugh. (Perhaps it could’ve been a probability)
You continue talking and decide to exchange numbers, Franco insists on walking you to the media room. Once you reach it he stops and turns to you, “Fue un placer Y/N, espero no volver a tirarte la comida,” he comments and you laugh. (It was a pleasure Y/N, I hope to not be the cause of you losing your food again)
“Bueno, pero si no pasaba entonces no hubiésemos tenido el almuerzo de primerizos juntos,” you reply attempting your best to flirt back. (But if it hadn’t happened we wouldn’t have eaten lunch together) He smiles, “Tenés razón, esperemos que no sea la última,” he says. (You’re right, let’s hope that it’s not our last time) “Hagamos algo, yo pago el almuerzo en la próxima semana de carrera,” you propose while stretching out your hand. (Let’s do something, I’ll pay for our lunch on the next race week)
Franco shakes it and little jolts run up your body, “Trato hecho, nos vemos pronto Y/N” he says. (It’s a deal, we’ll see each other soon Y/N) Hearing him say your name delicately makes you smile and blush, “Buena suerte mañana, se que vas a demostrar lo bueno que eres en pista,” you say. Franco blushes and gives you a friendly wink and hug before walking away. (Good luck tomorrow, I know you’re gonna prove just how good you are on track)
Blushing, you head inside and greet your coworkers, they notice your blush but don’t ask anything until Melissa points it out. You tell them a little about the encounter and continue to work until it’s time to go.
Once in the hotel room, you call your mom to debrief before showering and after you come out you find a text from Franco and decide to reply. This leads to you two talking for a few hours until you have to call it a night and get some much-needed rest for the hectic weekend that awaits you both.
You were absolutely enchanted to have met him after a slight mishap but it proved to be quite a turnaround.
(all photo credits go to the respective owners)
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population9973 · 6 months
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secret - luke danes
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luke danes x fem!reader
summary: lorelai oversteps and luke reveals your relationship
warnings: secret relationship, reader is younger than luke but no specific age is given, tiny bit of angst perhaps?
word count: 1.4k
“coffee?” luke asked, and you pushed your mug towards him with a smile.
“thanks.”
you were sitting at a table at luke’s diner when you overheard lorelai and rory talking about him,
the man oblivious as he went to fetch their order.
“do you think he’s dated anyone since rachel? lorelai said to her daughter in a hushed voice.
“I don’t know,” rory shrugged. “where would he meet anyone? he’s either here or in his apartment.”
“maybe he has a secret life. maybe he’s got a little chippy stowed away in mount pilot,” lorelai suggested, and rory laughed through her nose. “well we’ll know eventually.”
“i think he’s a bachelor for life.”
“and i think there’s someone for everyone,” the younger gilmore disagreed, before they began talking about music.
you tuned out the rest of their conversation, as it no longer pertained to your boyfriend. you and luke had been dating for about three months, and by some miracle had managed to keep it a secret; not an easy task in stars hollow. you couldn’t change the channel on the television in this town without someone finding out about it.
you were keeping the relationship hidden while it was new, since you were new to town and you were also a bit younger than luke. you had only moved here a little under six months ago; you didn’t need the added attention of a relationship while you were still settling into town, and luke respected that.
once the gilmore girls left, you went over to the counter to get another coffee to go, and luke smiled as he turned around and noticed it was you.
“hey, another coffee?” he asked.
“to go please,” you nodded, and he handed it to you, exchanging it for the mug you’d had. “call me later?” you whispered, though the diner was pretty empty, and he nodded, before you walked out of the store.
it was a few days later, and you were walking into the diner to grab a bite to eat. you put your headphones on but didn’t turn on your walkman so you could still hear as you walked inside and sat in the corner, luke holding up a finger to let you know he would be with you in a minute. you heard the door open and watched lorelai walk in and sit at the counter across from luke. you felt guilty for eavesdropping, but soon realized what the conversation was about and decided it did (slightly) pertain to you.
“hey, good party yesterday,” he greeted her, and you remembered him mentioning last night that he’d gone to help her fix something at a party her club was hosting.
“yeah, not bad”, she agreed with a smile.
“i like the new look it was very high class substitute teacher.”
“exactly what i was going for.”
“coffee?” he asked.
“oh, to go,” she answered, and luke switched the mug he’d placed in front of her for a paper cup. “hey luke, i feel a little weird even mentioning this to you-“ she began.
“what?”
“well yesterday i saw you talking to ava you know she’s in my booster club?”
“yeah i know who she is,” he replied, and you wondered what she was getting at.
“so anyhow, i saw you guys talking alone and it seemed kind of private and she mentioned earlier that you didn’t make her you know - gag,” she emphasized the word before continuing. “so I just figured you guys were making some sort of plans to hang out and see the thing is i just think it would be a little weird if you started dating a chilton mom.” you sat dumbfounded on the other side of the diner and luke raised his eyebrows slightly as she rambled on. “i know i have no right to say anything to you, but it’s just if you did date her - well i’m in the booster club with her which means i’ll hear things and i don’t know it’s just- i’d like to keep that chilton life separate from my stars hollow life so if there’s anyway that you could not date her, that would be really great,” she finished with a smile and a tap of her fingers on the counter top.
you sat in disbelief in your seat, still not daring to look their way as you wondered if it might have been better to not listen to the conversation after all.
“boy i tell you, you’ve got nerve,” he replied, sounding less than impressed with her speech.
“okay, uh w-“ she stuttered. “well i know this is your private business-“
“it is my private business.”
“you don’t see any validity to my side at all?” she asked.
“i am a grown man. you cannot tell me who to date to date,” he insisted.
“i’m not telling you who to date, i’m telling you who not to date,” she argued.
“you can’t tell me that either!”
“look-“ she began but he interrupted her.
“i will date who i like and if that screws with your plans, then i’m sorry - and if you don’t wanna hear things then don’t listen.”
“but-“
“if you don’t like it, you can just deal with it!” he said, and you weren’t sure you had ever heard him use that tone before.
“okay! i’ll just deal with it!,” she replied.
“good.”
“i just thought that if something was going to affect our friendship in some way that you might care about that because if the situation was reversed then i would care about that but that’s me! so go ahead date her!” she said, standing up, obviously offended. “marry her! make her mrs.backwards baseball cap - live happily ever after. see if i care!” lorelai flapped her arm around as she began walking out of the diner. “and by the way, I wasn’t asking her out,” luke informed her. “i was giving her directions for the quickest way back to hartford. it was very romantic. i said you take a right at deerfield and you catch the I-5 and you take it south. oh man, hot stuff!” he explained.
“that is so typical of you!”
“what?” he said, and you could recognize by his voice that he was rolling his eyes.
“that is not the quickest way back to hartford. everybody knows that you take main to cherry to linwood and then grab the 11. everybody knows that luke - everybody apparently but you!” she said, and her voice wavered as if she was getting emotional.
“and just for the record, not that it’s any of your business at all, i’m seeing someone. don’t worry she’s not one of the snobs in your chilton club so you won’t have to hear about it!”
you were glad you didn’t have a coffee yet or you probably would spat it out in surprise, and you wished more than anything that you had been able to see the look or lorelais face. you had nothing against her, but you did agree she had severely overstepped here.
“well that’s great! i’m so happy for you!” she spat angrily, and stormed out of the diner. thankfully there hadn’t been many people inside eating to hear the conversation, or luke’s confession of having a girlfriend. you decided you weren’t as concerned with people finding out anymore. you were happy with luke and that’s what was most important.
“hey,” luke greeted quietly as he appeared next to your table with a mug and coffee pot.
“hey,” you smiled up at him.
“how much did you hear?” he asked sheepishly, pouring you drink.
“all of it,” you admitted. “i’m sorry.”
“you don’t have to apologize. i’m sorry i told her without asking i just-“
“hey,” you put your hand on his softly. “i’m not mad. i guess the cats kinda out of the bag though.”
“no one knows it’s you,” he pointed out.
“it’s a small town - how long do you think it’ll take them to figure it out?” you laughed.
“yeah i guess so.”
“so, this chilton mom-“ you teased.
“don’t start,” he rolled his eyes, but smiled. “you’re really okay with people knowing about us?” he asked, and you nodded.
“yeah, i am,” you decided. “are you?”
“yeah, i guess i am,” he agreed, and you smiled.
“good.”
“good,” you beamed, and luke walked back behind the counter. you thought he had gone back to work, but he returned with another mug of coffee and sat down across from you.
“mind if i join you?” he teased, and you were surprised.
“are you…taking a break?”
“yeah,” he agreed.
“you? luke danes? are taking a break-“
“shut up before i change my mind?” he said playfully and you smiled, sipping your coffee.
“deal.”
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clairdelunelove · 9 months
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heart on the court
basketballplayer!itadori yuuji x reader
genre: fluff! (basketball drabble!)
warnings: slight cursing, slightly suggestive?, mentions of injury (not graphic tho!)
synopsis: yuuji's the best on the court. athletic, reliable, and great sportsmanship. unfortunately for you, though, is that he's from the rival school. but suddenly he's spotting you in the crowd and you're patching up his injury. so of course he's getting your number.
a.n. noticed I missed writing about fics surrounding school so I went back to my roots lol. I stumbled across a pic of yuuji in a basketball jersey and felt COMPELLED to write this. so enjoy :3
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literally drooling at the thought of how itadori yuuji, who's on the rival school's basketball team, manages to get your number after the game.
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animated chatter buzzed throughout mobs of students at the promise of this evening’s basketball game. it was supposed to be a friendly match— doubling as a scrimmage so the players had some practice before the strict season games. a time where coaches put in their substitutes to introduce them into the team's dynamic. try out a couple skills, run some drills, and build up morale. but you, along with everyone else, knew what this game ensued when your rival school’s name was posted on the campus’ bulletin board. it wasn’t just your school that was hypervigilant either. word quickly spread that the other school’s roster had their infamous ace on it. known to sway the game’s outcome just by his presence on the court. you had missed the last game, caught up in a club meeting and the fear of missing out tugged at you to attend this time. the game was an event that the entire student population eagerly looked forward to. banners were made, glittery pieces that had some sort of motivational quote plastered on it, confetti was cut, and balloons were blown up to decorate the school’s gymnasium. and, of course, girls’ crafted signs to cheer their boyfriends on during the match. the game was a huge, notable affair that deviated from the school's mundane schedule– and you wouldn’t miss it even if you had to scurry right after film class ended. 
basketballplayer!yuuji who audibly gasps as he steps into your school’s gymnasium. the building is enormous– clean– and students are already occupying a majority of the bleachers. he’s clad in his team’s warm-up gear; branded sports jacket and baggy sweatpants that are ideal for practicing. the male would’ve blended in well if it wasn’t for the sleek headphones around his neck and how he expresses an impressed, “woah.” hand reaching up to push down the hood over his head, he shakes off the remnants of rain that cling onto him and does his best to rub the bottom of his sodden shoes on the entrance’s mat. he expected it to rain. packed an umbrella in the red gym bag slung over his shoulder but couldn’t be bothered to take it out. his teammates weren’t so prepared, however. raising their bags over their heads to stay dry and patting themselves off from the heavy sprinkle. just a small disadvantage from not being the school’s home team. unfortunate that the weather was gloomy for such an anticipated game. though, it doesn’t dim the team’s enthusiasm and the gymnasium’s atmosphere. just encourages the crowd’s ovation when the rival team saunters into the place. “they’re all fired up,” one of yuuji’s teammates remarked with a pleased smirk. 
basketballplayer!yuuji who warms-up with heavy music blasting through his headphones and a basketball in his hand. dropped his bag off near the sidelines before rummaging for the sweatband he usually wears. it’s a plain black fabric that helps keep his unruly hair away from his face. but really, the girls’ can’t help but notice how the sweatband emphasizes his dark undercut when he pushes it through his blushy hair. attractive in a way that captivates not only his school’s following but also the home team’s admirers. compensation, as some would call it, for watching the game. yet, yuuji never views it that way. puts himself in the zone while the rest of the team idle around; they’re likely found chatting with friends or winking at the girls on the bleachers. he strides on the court, politely waves to his school’s traveling fans before habitually dribbling the ball beside him. practices a couple layups and free throws to get the blood pumping. isn’t a huge fanatic of the attention that he gains from how precise his movements are but he’s aware that’s the price of being the team’s ace. 
basketballplayer!yuuji who, from the corner of his eye, spots you scrambling into the building. you freeze immediately. eyes widening at the sheer amount of people that crowded around the doors; most were dawdling while waiting for friends in order to grab a seat together. you pressed the stack of film books closer to your chest to endure the feverish pushing that came with the thrill of the evening game. wasn’t anything worth panicking about. just a couple elbows and shoulder nudging until a figure parts the loud crowd. “need some help?” unbeknownst to you, the rival school’s ace separated the sea of students to reach you and provide some assistance. well-mannered, polite, or considerate ought to be his middle name. you blink, speechless because you’re face to face with the attractive male. even has a pretty voice to match. yuuji allows you to blatantly stare– forever the patient person he is while grinning abashedly. “‘gonna take that as a yes,” he chuckles and raises his voice so you can hear him over the noise, “follow me!” ends up walking you to the slot of empty space where his duffel bag resides. his teammates toss a sleazy whistle over their shoulder which compels yuuji to mutter, “shut up, man,” before ushering you along. he’s still in a good mood by default. while accompanying him, you’re unable to refrain yourself from gawking. he’s all sharp features that melt into boyish charm when he interacts with you. “good movie, by the way,” he points to the book in your hand. “oh!” you glance at the film’s cover before smiling, “right? I finished it over the weekend and really liked it.” upon noticing that you’re chatting with him, he promptly slides off his headphones so he can hear you clearer. it’s a seemingly insignificant gesture but it warms your heart nonetheless. having genuine courtesy to others was utterly irresistible to you. the guys at your school didn’t hold a candle to him. begs you to wonder; who was he?
basketballplayer!yuuji who waits until you’re situated before hollering out a quick, “later!” dribbles back on court to join the team’s practice drills before the match and only shoots you a grin when he notices you’re staring. doesn’t bank on gaining anything from you– he’s authentically chivalrous. you, on the other hand, are absolutely intrigued by the blushy haired male from the rival school. wide, glimmering eyes on him as he’s zeroed in on passing the ball. the crowd’s clamor is only heightened when the warning whistle shrieks to indicate that– finally– it’s game time. yuuji shuffles over to pack his headphones and sweatband. ends up slicking his spiky hair behind his ears and earns a couple squeals of delight. he sheds off his jacket and sweatpants next; so he’s clad in the team’s official dark uniform. his sleeveless jersey cuts into a deep v-neck to unveil pretty collarbones that have you squinting to admire. even his baggy shorts can’t conceal the strength of his physique. as expected, he’s all lean muscle that overshadows anyone else on the court. yuuji shoots a good-natured thumbs up to your school’s players, places his hands on his thighs, and does a couple stagnant stretches before tip off. and gosh– can he play. remarkably, he’s everywhere on the court. rebounding shots, gaining points from layups, and taking the responsibility of every free throw. it’s impressive because he’s deemed as average height for a basketball player. yet, he’s the power forward that teams fantasize about. zips up and down the court without a hint of fatigue. the audience is glued to his every move too, becoming uncontrolled whenever he has possession of the ball. whistles and cheers whenever he manages his infamous dunk. hangs off the rim with a single hand while grinning gleefully at the crowd. bright eyes blazing with the kind of adrenaline a person only experiences from being unrivaled in their expertise. you’re even reveling in the ambience. cheering wholeheartedly for him (a player that’s not from your school) but sheepishly dialing back your enthusiasm when yuuji glances in your direction. 
basketballplayer!yuuji who’s unstoppable on the court. so unstoppable, in fact, that the only time he’s subbed out is when he’s on the receiving end of an offensive foul. catches a solid body-slam while he’s turned around so he scrapes his knee as an attempt to steady himself. the audience buzzes with distress when yuuji slowly picks himself back up. a teammate claps him on the back as he limps to the sideline bench at the next opportunity. he doesn’t seem like he’s in pain, though. cheerily waves and says, “hey!” when he recognizes you in the crowd. fortunately, the seat he found for you was perfect because now he’s situated a bleacher row below you. the coach hands him a damp towel which he uses to apply pressure on his bleeding knee. pressing the rag down to control the minor injury, he whirls around to ask you, “enjoying the game?” a gleam in his stare conveys a hope of praise that you’ll offer him. “I am!” you cup your mouth with a hand so you’re audible over the crowd, “you’re great!” lifting an arm to wipe off the sweat on his forehead, he smiles broadly, “am I?” and the tone in his voice reveals genuine curiosity. he’s not attempting to coax more compliments out of you, no, yuuji’s real intent is to keep conversing with you. you’re nodding right away, head bobbing so vigorously that he ends up chuckling. “how’s your knee? that was a nasty fall.” you point to where the rag has splotches of crimson on it. “fine,” he smoothly replies with a casual shrug to ease the worry written on your face, “I’ve dealt with worse.” then, you reach into your backpack to hand him a bandaid while sheepishly avoiding his gaze, “I have this if you want to use it.” the patch is a soft-hued color and has an animated character cheering on it. yuuji decides it’s cute– like you. his cheeks are set aflame as his slender fingers work to press it over his scraped knee. pats it for good measure to demonstrate that it’s better. you made it better. “thanks!” ill-timed, his coach advises him that he’ll be back on the court soon so he extends his legs to stretch the muscles. he’s guided to the substitution area but before he hops back on the court, he turns to call out to you, “will I see you after the game?”
basketballplayer!yuuji who’s reduced to clumsy pauses and splutters when he finds you waiting for him after his game. it was a formidable match but his flawless performance just gave his team the upper-hand. the crowd was satisfied, though. buzzing with compliments for yuuji and his athleticism– the usual revelation that causes his supporters to steadily grow. slinging a towel over his shoulder, he grabs his duffel bag, takes out his umbrella, and tosses in a couple praising remarks to his teammates before ambling over to the gymnasium’s exit. he’s in a grand mood; the crowd was wild, his teammates/coach were pleased with him, and the endorphins consuming him after the spectacular game were pumping through him. yet, the rival school’s star player literally stumbles on his feet when he finds you patiently waiting for him. you’re all soft, delicate features that are only enhanced in the building’s fluorescence. a beauty that he’d be damned to remember if he saw you passing through his school’s hallways. although, his favorite part of you was the sparkling smile on your glossy lips when you caught a glimpse of him. blindly, he makes his way over to you. and boy is he a stuttering mess. red-faced and sweaty, yuuji manages to get your name and immediately mentions that it matches you. “it’s pretty,” he clarifies when you tilt your head in skepticism. overall, the two of you are interrupted multiple times (with students asking for pictures or chatting post-game with him) and he’s hastily apologizing for the inconvenience each time. dark brows shooting up, he’s the epitome of panic as his gaze darts to the line of people waiting for his regard. “sorry!” yuuji sheepishly bows his head while explaining, “it’s usually not, uh, like this after games–” and his hand reaches out to guide you to a spot that’s less crowded but you’re giggling at how ruffled he is about the whole ordeal. “they seem to like you a lot,” you bring up as his hand gently closes over your wrist after leading you to a place outside of the building. it's sprinkling, droplets catching on your lashes and he hastily opens his umbrella for you. slowly, you’re drawn closer to him and the warmth he exudes. your fingertips move to graze over his calloused knuckles, a spellbound guise in your gaze. he chokes on his breath. “how about you?” he inquires, unexpectedly meek and tender now that the two of you are alone, “I mean, how do you feel about me?” and it’s safe to say that when you slip your number into his hand, the adoration is mutual. 
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nayedoll · 3 months
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Joost request where it’s there meetcute and reader is a tattoo artist and she’s tatting him up and he’s trying to flirt within the small talking without trying to embarrass himself and she finds it cute, idk just an idea, change whatever you like
like a tattoo; part 1
joost klein x reader
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read part 2 here 🫐
a/n: pretend that joost has a “t’ komt goed” tattoo for the sake of this.
word count: 1.5k ☁️
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A light drizzle was falling as Joost quickly got off the bus and picked up his pace so as to avoid being late. His earphones hung from his ears as he reached the tattoo studio, catching his breath for a moment and fixing his hood before opening the glass door to the building.
The place was relatively small, though beautifully decorated with plants and low lighting. Joost looked around confused, noticing how there was no one there as he took a seat on the couch.
“Hallo?” he yelled out but got no response, the jazz music coming from the record player filling the silence of the rather empty room. His phone rang in his pocket and he picked it up, relieved to see that it was his tattoo artist, Alex, calling.
The call was brief as the man on the other line apologized for not being able to make it to the appointment and explained that a friend of his would substitute for him. Joost was skeptical, expressing his fear of trusting a complete stranger to ink his skin for life but his friend was quick to calm him down.
“Don’t worry man, she’s really good. She might be even better than me,” he laughed and that helped Joost relax a bit. “She’s also really pretty. And into blondes. This could be your lucky day, Klein.”
“You think?” Joost joked around some more before hanging up. As he did so, a door that he hadn’t noticed, opened and you came out smiling at him.
“Oh hi! Have you been waiting for a while?” you asked him, internally cursing yourself for losing track of time. Joost stayed silent for a second, taking in the sight of you. His friend wasn’t lying, you were beautiful and that caught him off guard.
“No, no I haven’t,” he replied, nervously averting his gaze from you, “I just got here, actually,” he added, smiling.
“Good, so should we start?” you suggested motioning for him to come inside the room. He got closer, your height difference becoming more noticeable with each step and extended his hand for a handshake.
“I’m Joost by the way,” he said and you scoffed, shaking hands with him.
“I know who you are,” you looked up at him as he puckered his lips fighting back a smile and nodded. His cold hand lingered on yours before you pulled away and headed inside the room.
Joost quickly followed you, taking a seat at the big black chair surrounded by plants and some posters on the wall. The room carried the smell of vanilla and citruses which he assumed was from your perfume.
“Soooo are you gonna tell me your name?” Joost furrowed his brows and looked at you while you were preparing the equipment, admiring how cute you looked when focused. You smiled, still not looking at him and gave him your name. “I like that name,” he said with an awkward laugh, “it’s pretty.”
You thanked him, laughing quietly to yourself. You had been to a few of Joost’s concerts before, from which you had formed the impression that he was more of the flirty and cocky type. However, his awkwardness —which you found cute nonetheless—proved you wrong a thousand times.
You turned your back to him for an instant to grab something from the cluttered shelves behind you. Joost took the opportunity to check himself in the mirror next to him, slightly fixing his hair and chunky glasses. He then quickly turned to you again as you walked up to him, grinning softly.
You put your hair in a ponytail, revealing your neck to him and he gazed at the little heart tattoo behind your ear. “Cute tattoo,” he remarked, pointing at the area behind your ear, then asking if you had more tattoos. You smiled, always excited to show them off.
“Here,” you pulled your sleeves up and got closer to Joost, showing him your fingers that were inked with various little tattoos. Joost lightly grabbed your hand to examine every inch of your tattooed digits, caressing them with his thumb every now and then.
“I have some on my fingers too,” he grinned as he lifted his right hand, showcasing the numbers tattooed separately on four of his fingers.
“Shit, you’re born in 1983?” you said shocked, initially expecting him to be around your age. “No, no, no,” he repeated, laughing and shaking his head. You nodded, feeling a strange relief at his denial.
“1997.” he smiled.
“We’re the same age.” you noted, watching as he raised his eyebrows.
“Lucky me,” he said with a cute laugh. You rolled your eyes, a big smile beaming on your face.
“Any more tattoos you wanna show me?” he suggested, changing the subject.
“Let’s get done with your tattoo first and then you can see mine all you want.” you responded, your words sounding flirtier than you intended them to be.
“Alright, alright.” he playfully put his hands up, getting another laugh out of you.
Joost gazed at you, charmed by your presence alone. This moment felt like heaven to him, your smile as pleasant as the warm sun on an early morning. He could swear he had never seen another girl as pretty as you, already mourning the moment he would have to leave and say goodbye.
“Where do you want the tattoo again?” you asked him, breaking his intense stare. He pulled the sleeves of his hoodie up, exposing his forearm adorned by numerous tattoos and little blonde hairs. “Here,” he pointed at the side of his forearm near his wrist. You nodded and gently grabbed his hand, cleaning the area with some rubbing alcohol.
You didn’t talk much for the next hour, seeing as you were too focused on perfecting his tattoo. Joost didn’t mind as he got to study your face, noticing the way your lips slightly parted while concentrating or how you tightened your grip on his hand as you held it down in place. You caught him staring a few times to which he responded by smiling softly, the pinkish blush on his cheeks becoming more visible each time.
“Aaaand we’re done” you backed away, carefully looking at Joost to see his reaction. His face lit up at the sight of the tattooed phrase on his hand, ‘t komt goed.
“Do you like it?” you asked, biting your lip anxiously.
“Are you kidding? It’s perfect,” Joost scoffed. “You’re really good.” he praised you.
“It was an easy one,” you humbly stated, rolling your eyes as a form of sarcasm which earned a cute laugh from him.
“Maybe next time I’ll challenge you with a harder one,” Joost replied and you raised your eyebrows at him. Next time? you thought, feeling a jolt of excitement in your stomach at the impression that he’d be coming back.
“Who said I’ll do your tattoo next time?” you joked as you enveloped the tattoo with a plastic wrap, your warm touch making Joost’s heart pound faster than ever.
“Don’t worry I’ll make sure of it. You’re better company than Alex,” he chuckled as you furrowed your brows, turning to face him briefly.
“You think?” you asked, he nodded with a sweet expression, his stare painting your cheeks with a discreet blush.
Some minutes passed, in which Joost waited for you to finish putting everything in its place like you were tasked to do, seeing as his appointment was the last one of the day. The closeness between you grew stronger by the minute, what started as a random encounter slowly turning into a precious friendship—or more.
“We should hang out normally, you know, without a tattoo getting in the way,” Joost said, nervously playing with his hair as he walked with you to the bus stop. The weather was sultry with raindrops drizzling over you, in classic Amsterdam fashion.
“I agree,” you looked at him, watching as a shy but satisfied smile played at the corners of his mouth. The dim street lights highlighted his face angles perfectly and you couldn’t help but stare as he talked about his interests with so much excitement.
“Ladies first,” he stepped to the side, urging you to get in the bus first. You scoffed, hurried in and Joost followed with a sly smile. You rested your hand against the metallic bar of the bus since it was too crowded to sit. Joost slightly towered over you, leaning against the window to stabilize himself. His fingers lightly brushed against yours as he touched his hand on the bar as well, sending a rush of electricity through you.
“Where do you live?” he asked and quickly shook his head, “That didn’t sound creepy at all”. You laughed, answering his question.
“That’s a pity,” he replied, “I have to get off at the next stop.” You made a sad face, a tiny pout forming on your lips. Neither of you wanted the night to end, feeling like you had hardly gotten to know each other in those three hours.
“Give me your phone” you said and he handed you his phone with curious eyes. You saved your phone number in his contacts before giving him the phone back with a satisfied expression. “Text me when you get home.”
“Sure will.” Joost responded as he hesitantly got off the bus and you waved at him shyly. You gazed out the window, smiling every now and then as you recalled the past evening with Joost. You didn’t exactly know where this was going but you were excited to find out.
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arcanesea · 7 months
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colors
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PAIRING: hwang hyunjin x reader GENRE: fluff, established relationship WC: 558 WARNINGS: none
"There are only 3 primary colors, right?" you ask mindlessly as you watch Hyunjin's brush glide across the canvas. You heard a low hum from him before asking, "Who named the colors?"
he rolls his eyes, and a thin smile creeps on his face.
"What's on your mind pretty?" he asks softly, still focusing on the canvas in front of him. You had agreed to be his muse today. Though a very basic muse, you must say. He doesn't even let you hold any props, so you just sit there with a flower slipped in your ear.
"Well, orange comes from mixing red and yellow, so why not call it yed?" you propose.
Hyunjin stops to look at you with his confused face. "Yed?"
"Yes? well, you mix yellow and red? Yed? Or should it be redow?"
"You're absurd," he laughs, continuing his sweep of brush. You're cute, was what he was actually thinking. Since you sat on that chair, you hadn't stopped talking about everything, from the workplace stress you're currently experiencing, to stories of stray cats in your apartment complex. Your voice was a better substitute for the music he put on every time he started painting.
"Green should be called yellue," you push forward. Laughing when the words repeated itself in your head. "Isn't that cute, Hyune, yellue?" you ask.
"Sure, my love," he answered. "Tell me everything on that pretty head of yours."
"I think, you don't need me to sit here," you said softly. Hyunjin laughs again. If he's being honest, it's his first time drawing the muse directly. He could have snapped a picture of you and used it as a reference, that's what he always does. But who he is to say no when you're the one offering to be his muse for a day?
"Weren't you the one offering yourself?" He asks, not paying much attention to you who had started to stand. You stopped in your tracks, thinking to yourself.
"Right..." you shyly said. You walked behind him, leaning down to rest your chin on his left shoulder. You are the muse, but you're certain that the scene doesn't look anything like his painting. Not in a bad way, just in a very hyperbole way that the background colors seem to be muted while he gives you the spotlight with all the vibrant colors.
Hyunjin turned his head, pressing a kiss on your cheek. "What do you think?"
"I don't think there's any word that can describe the elegance of that painting, Hyune," you answered. "I think you're a great artist, I'm pretty sure I'm not as beautiful as the person in the canvas."
Hyunjin puts down his palette on the little table next to the canvas before standing up. He grabs your shoulder, just looking at you. No matter how many times he memorized your features, he can't stop admiring your angelic nature.
It's true that an artist's eyes see colors in a spectrum that's never existed before, but you're different. Hyunjin had always thought that he already saw all the colors of life, but your existence in his life gives him a taste of a new kind of rainbow. And he wished for nothing more than you to see yourself from his point of view.
"Believe me, my love, no colors can do justice to paint you."
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a/n. Ramadhan Kareem everyone! We're well fed this month by the amount of skz record the kids released and some said we're getting cb announcement at fanmeeting😃 can't wait!!!!!!
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moriwood · 5 months
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Speakeasy Serenade — s.jy
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sim jaeyun x male reader fluff 1k words
As the token gay guy in your circle of friends, going out drinking just means your friends talking about their boyfriends and you pouring out advice. Tonight you meet Jake, who seems to find you prettier than anyone he has met before.
includes: supportive friends (from ive) :D, fluffy college gaes, art guy meets math guy warning: n/a
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You casually take a panoramic video for the mandatory social media post, swiftly scrolling through the tables of students your age to the blinding neon signage flaunting the swanky bar you’re currently lounging at. The discordant yet inviting noise of the people chattering and the unrecognizable generic house music coax you to saunter into the beat of the crowd, to melt into its blur and comfort, to lose your inhibitions along your fading sobriety.
The girls are once again enumerating their recent trysts, Wonyoung’s sophomore athlete, Yujin’s substitute instructor, and another childhood friend of Gaeul somehow suddenly coming back. They seek your counsel, begging for romantic advice as if you have any experience under your belt. You don’t, and all you have for reference is your BLs and fan fiction.
“Let’s talk about you now, got anything going on?” Gaeul drawls towards you with a mischievous glint in her eyes, cheek leaning on the back of her hand.
“You should be the one with the most stories here,” Yujin jests, roughly grabbing both of your hands. “You know, Wonyoung’s boyfriend says there’s a gay guy in their team,” she slurs, “she can make him set you two up."
You chortle, “I’m not interested, I’m already satisfied with seeing you all find your guys.”
They teasingly coo at you, patting your head and such. Wonyoung sternly looks at you though, muttering, “but we’d also be happy with you finding your man, okay?” 
You respond with a weak smile. As you inhale the temporary comfort from Wonyoung, your eyes meet a man a couple tables over, in his early 20s you presume, probably a senior from your university. For a second, the man seems to be caught off-guard, yet he quickly recovers with a blinding smile that could only compare to the sweltering of your summer breaks. 
The warmth of the bar could only get so much warmer for a usually cold man like you.
Your palms feel clammy as you fail to immediately break off eye contact, and now the man’s walking towards your friends’ table. The man is handsome, really handsome, and about the same height as you, maybe a little taller. Some less alcohol could have probably given you a wider vocabulary to describe the scene. He blends so well with everyone else, yet he just stands out. 
“Hey, have we met before?” he boldly asks, the conversations on your table abruptly stopping. All eyes are now on the man, and you hear your friends murmuring behind you. His gaze burns you.
“I don’t think our friend here remembers,” Gaeul butts in, noticing you struggling to find your words. Yujin cackles, gripping on Wonyoung’s thigh.
“No, I don’t think so,” you stammer, finding a familiar seal stamped on the guy’s varsity jacket. “Although it’d be safe to assume you’re also from…”
The man deeply chuckles, head tilting back as he holds onto your shoulder, veins running along his arm, Adam's apple bobbing… Damn. “You don’t know how happy I am to find out we go to the same university,” he chimes. “Ladies,” he glances at your friends, “would it be alright for me to borrow your friend?”
“You can even take him home!” Yujin cheers. “We’ll be here waiting for you,” Wonyoung looks at the man up and down, then whispers, “or maybe not.”
“Oh, uh, sorry, they tend to get rowdy when they get tipsy-”
You lose your lousy apology as he pulls you away into the parking lot, where the bar’s house music is instead replaced by the live music from the open lounge across the alley. The new vibe sobers you up, the silence being filled by the strumming of an acoustic guitar and the late night hustle and bustle. Your gut says that the man was about to do something foxy but then you see the man clumsily sit on a curb.
“Uh, I’m not kidnapping you or anything,” he awkwardly clarifies out of nowhere.
You furrow your brows in amusement, “I didn’t think of that-”
“And I forgot my name! Jake. Hi, I’m Jake,” he swiftly puts out his hand, withdraws it, then puts it back out like a malfunctioning robot.
You couldn’t stop yourself from giving a hearty laugh as you told him your name. “Nice to meet you, Jake,” you chuckle, giving him an uncoordinated handshake. As opposed to his confident and suave demeanor from earlier, he now gives off a more tame, and in fact, quite nervous, aura.
“So, you’ve got a habit of leaving your friends and pulling strangers out of bars?” you tease, sitting down on the curb beside him. A gust of night wind hits the both of you, tousling Jake’s hair to a fluffy mess. He looks like a puppy, you thought.
Jake grins, running a hand through his hair. “Not usually, uh, no. I just… I saw you and knew I had to take the chance. My friends won’t notice I’m gone.” He earnestly looks at you, and flutters bubble deep in your chest. “So, uh… What’s your major?”
“Creative writing,” you reply, “it’s a small community. And you?”
“Math,” he hesitantly replies, almost ashamed. “Kinda boring for you, huh?”
“Hey, there’s beauty in math too,” you contemplate, searching across the theorems and concepts you’ve heard in your mandatory math classes the past few years. The conversation flows as the two of you share the intricacies of your majors, as if you were already plotting a shared future together in your careers.
“Like the golden ratio,” you remember, eyes on Jake’s finger mindlessly drawing circles on the back of your hand. “Turns out there’s a mathematical reason why I find some artworks more pleasing than others.”
Jake’s eyes light up. “And I’m looking at a breathtaking work of art right now.”
You find yourself at a loss for words, looking back at Jake. “That was smooth.”
“Sorry, I couldn’t stop myself,” Jake smiles, tilting his head like an apologetic puppy. You just want to pat his head so bad. “Gotta use all my pick up lines now before I regret it.”
“You’ve got a lot more opportunities to use them,” you reply, belatedly realizing what your response implies. “If you wanna go out with me sometime,” you add. You don’t want to say goodbye yet, and Jake seemed to feel the same thing.
Jake eagerly nods as he fishes his phone out his pocket. “I’d like that. In the daytime, on campus, with no alcohol?”
Your heart skips a beat. “I’d like that too.”
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author’s note: hi hello to myself, imma pretend i didn’t go away for six months 😚😚 here’s a nothingburger of a fic as a comeback HEHRTHDHGFHA 🎉 shitty thumbnail i made exposes when i started writing this 💀 also realized i always got my peeps in a college age setting, rly need to broaden my horizons for d next fic wuhnuweuwhheuw
— moriwood.
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keyotos · 1 year
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kiss the girl
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summary ⎯ five times dan heng has thought about kissing you, and the one time he actually does.
tana's words ⎯ i've been recently listening to kiss the girl (ashley tisdale version) and its cute and made me think of dan heng. and idk if this follows canon story or not bc im not at xianzhou yet lolz.
also ik the title says 'kiss the girl' but that's only bc i was listening to the song. reader is gender neutral.
tags ⎯ friends to lovers. pining i think. hurt and comfort (at the end). flustered dan heng. fluff i think.
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THE FIRST TIME dan heng thinks about kissing you, he immediately pushes away the thought. it was out of character; it was outrageous for him to think of a friend that way. it made him feel perverted for even thinking of the action.
it was a sunny day. you two (plus march and stelle) were in belobog at the time and you guys were witnessing bronya's speech. all of you agreed the speech was marvelous, and you all felt a sense of pride for bronya.
your eyes were sparkling in the sun as you watched bronya speak, and dan heng couldn't help but become enamoured by your face. he looked away from his paper to peek at your awed expression.
at that moment, dan heng thought you were the most beautiful person he's ever seen. but he can't think that. he cannot. not only were you a fellow trailblazer, but you were also his friend. he couldn't risk one of his greatest friendships over something as minimal as this.
so, he pushed the thought out of his brain. he thought that it would be gone forever, but he was deeply wrong.
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THE SECOND TIME dan heng wanted to kiss you occured while you two were gazing in the astral express. by this time, you two have left belobog, and are awaiting your next journey.
you chose to pass the time by 'star-watching,' a new term you created as a substitute to cloud watching. the activity is similar to cloud watching as you point out shapes that make beings.
dan heng told you that you were just pointing out constellations, you said that you wanted to pass on the technicalities.
so now, you two were star-watching. you kept pointing out absurd patterns, such as, "this one looks like svarog," (it did not) and, "this one looks like balls." of course, none of the constellations looked like either of the comparisons (dan heng was thinking about taking you to the eye doctor), but dan heng played along anyway. anything to make you smile.
at one point, the absurdities stopped, and you began pointing out real constellations. so many beautiful creations in the sky, yet the real beautiful thing was right next to him, continuously pointing out constellations.
you rested your head on your hand, mindlessly gazing out at the empty field of stars in front of you, "it's beautiful."
"yeah," dan heng mindlessly replies, not even realizing what he's just said, "it is," he finally says, looking at you.
maybe it's the light from the stars hitting your face, or maybe it was just your radiant beauty, but the urge to kiss you came up once again. subconsciously, dan heng knew the feeling would arise sooner or later. but that didn't mean he liked the feeling.
he wants to preserve your friendship so bad; but sometimes, the line drawn alongside friendship and love begins to thin. sometimes, the line gets so thin that dan heng fears that he'll trip and fall into you.
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THE THIRD TIME dan heng wanted to kiss you was when you two were hanging out in his room. over the span of months, dan heng has learned to appreciate your being, and sometimes (he will never admit this) he feels calmer around you.
usually, dan heng didn't let other people be in his room, but it was different with you. for some reason, he liked it when you were in his room. sometimes, he finds himself wanting you to be in his room.
he was quietly sorting through his data bank while you were reading. it was such a calm and quiet moment; dan heng felt peace for once. there was music playing softly in the back, the room was silent, and the air was just right. it felt nice.
dan heng was too tuned into his data bank that he didn't hear footsteps coming up closer to him. it was only when he turned his head to check on you, that dan heng noticed you were right next to him.
you were right next to him, head nearly leaning on his shoulder, and you were so close to him. dan heng's heart was about to beat out of his chest, and he began to worry about the warmth that was rapidly spreading to his neck.
when you noticed dan heng's reaction, you thought you'd surprised him. you moved a little bit back, "sorry, did i scare you?"
"no, not at all. i was just a little startled," dan heng replied while rubbing the back of his (reddening) neck.
"that's like, the same thing as scared," you gave a low chuckle and moved closer to him once again, "you would know this."
"dunno," dan heng paused, "maybe i was too frightened to remember." when you laughed at that, dan heng swore he blushed all the way up to his ears.
"you are not funny," you gave him a slight shove that didn't really affect him. you leaned closer into the database, "what are you doing?"
you didn't realize how close you were to dan heng, your faces nearly touching. you were scrolling around his data bank while dan heng was trying to hide his rampant blush from your eyes.
dan heng stared at you while you browsed, taking in your close presence. you didn't seem nearly as tense as he did. you were relaxed, comfortable, you leaned into him. dan heng found himself staring longer than normal.
then, the thought, came in. the same recurring thought he'd been having for a long time: the thought to kiss you. he wanted to take you by the hands and pull you closer to him. he wanted to feel your palms and he wanted to feel you closer to him.
and this is the moment were dan heng realizes that he wants to be more than friends. dan heng realizes that he likes you; he wants you to be with him, he wants to feel you by his side. he wants endless star-watching nights; he wants to see you constantly.
and that is dangerous. not only would that ruin your friendship, but it would also endanger you. there's so much that would put you at risk.
"you should go back to your room," dan heng puts a gentle hand on your shoulder, causing you to look back up at him. your confused expression almost shatters dan heng's resilience, but he goes on, "it's late. go get some rest."
you keep the hand on your shoulder, "you too. don't stay up too late, okay?" the soft tone of your voice makes dan heng melt, and he almost wants to pull you back and ask you to stay. almost.
dan heng nods and you leave. he leans back on his desk and puts his head in his hands. what is he going to do?
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THE FOURTH TIME dan heng wanted to kiss you was the night you arrived in the xianzhou. you (and march and stelle) were exploring the city and it's wonders while dan heng was treading carefully behind you.
you haven't had a full conversation with dan heng for days. you assume it was probably because you were snooping around his data bank, but he has never minded that before. you haven't got an actual chance to apologize either, because for some reason, dan heng is now constantly busy.
the four of you decided that you would split up to look around. march immediately went to stelle, so that left you with dan heng.
dan heng knew this would happen. he couldn't avoid you for too long anyway, even if he tried. he would always end up gravitating back towards you.
it pained him to not talk to you. he missed your voice, your jokes, your little touches. he missed your book talks, he missed the way you'd always be in his room, he even missed your nosiness.
you and dan heng were aimlessly strolling around the streets until you found a lively street parlor. they were selling food, and the aroma was absolutely divine. dan heng knew you immediately caught your mind on something when he saw your beaming face.
you still haven't found a correct time to apologize to dan heng, but that can wait for later. you just wanted to talk to him. "dan heng! we should try some," you beamed.
"okay. i'll wait over here," dan heng monotonously replied. your smile slightly faltered, dan heng thought the sight to be excruciating.
he couldn't still be mad at you, right? you had to apologize soon, because this silent is agonizing. you couldn't help the fact that you missed dan heng. you missed late nights and his warm touch. you missed his sarcasm and his gentle nature.
when you returned, you brought back one giant kebab that dan heng knew you couldn't finish. you'd probably have enough to share with the entire express.
when you took a bite of the kebab, you moaned with delight, and dan heng forgot how much he missed your smile. it all came rushing back to him, all the things he missed about you. you are right here, in his grasp, yet he still cannot have you.
after your first bite, you offered a second bite to dan heng. etiquette was all out of the picture when you were there.
originally, dan heng wasn't planning to eat. there were lots of problems at hand, and dan heng could not relax now. but you were an obstacle in his equation. how could he refuse you when you were practically bouncing on your toes, smiling, and looking at him with such mirthful eyes. saying no to you was like refusing a blessing from the aeons.
he took a bite out of the kebab, to which he nodded in delight. dan heng finished chewing with a delighted expression on his face, and your smile appeared once again. dan heng felt his lips creep up, and sooner or later, he was smiling as well.
he looked down at your happy expression, and he noticed that you had food on the corner of your mouth. dan heng usually scolded you for being slightly messy, but in this tender moment, there was no need.
dan hen grabbed a napkin from a nearby table and wiped the corner off your mouth off. he wiped the food off so tenderly that you would think he was tending to something delicate and fragile. and the gaze he gave you after. you nearly passed out. dan heng looked at you with such fondness and love that you gripped the kebab harder.
his mind hadn't registered what he just did before you quietly said, "thank you."
dan heng nearly malfunctioned. what he just did was criminal. it was a simple thing, however it was most criminal to dan heng. during that moment, all he could think of was your lips on his. the tenderness of his touch was his mind projecting how he would cup your face when you two kissed. all of it felt so wrong, but so right.
"no problem," dan heng blushed and avoided your eyes. "do you... do you think we should meet back up with march and stelle?"
"yeah," you looked down at the ground, slightly flustered, "yeah. let's go."
things were awkward. but at least things were okay. and that was all that mattered to you.
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MARCH 7TH HAD speculations. you and dan heng were like a pair. you two were a dynamic duo, second to march and stelle, of course. you would always be seen with each other. when march "accidentally" stumbles into dan heng's room, you'd be somewhere in there as well.
so, why is it that whenever march barges into dan heng's room, you aren't there? why are you not with him? why is he "constantly busy" when he there is nothing to store in the data bank? something was up, and march was determined to find out what was happening.
"don't you think it's weird that we never see dan heng and yn together anymore?" march asked stelle while sipping on juice.
stelle huffed, "i mean, it's a little weird. but maybe they're both exhausted. we just got out of belobog and now we're facing more conflict in another world."
"yeah, but," march paused for dramatic effect, "i saw them together in dan heng's room a few days ago."
stelle furrowed her eyebrows, "are you stalking them or something?"
"what?!" march exclaimed, nearly jumping out of her seat. the scene caused stelle to laugh, "no. of course not, i can't believe you accused me of that!"
"so... you don't think it's weird that we never see them together anymore?" march continued.
"okay. i'll answer. it's a little weird. but whatever it is i'm sure they have a reasonable explanation for it," stelle said. "why are you asking about them anyway?"
"because," march drew out the syllables, "they're cute. i've been shipping them. and plus, dan heng hasn't really been acting like himself recently."
"yeah, but what are we gonna do about it? he hasn't really opened up to us about his problems... like... ever..." stelle trailed off, as if she tried to remember how many times dan heng has ever spoken about himself.
"don't worry stelle," march grinned, "i have a plan."
"i can't believe we fell for this," you grimaced in the closet you were stuck in.
march and stelle split up and told both of you that there was a group meeting in march's room. obviously, because the both of you thought there was something urgent, you rushed in there. you were prepared, only to be ambushed and pushed in a closet by march and stelle as a ploy to "make up."
alas, you knew you needed to talk things out sooner or later.
dan heng, on the other hand, was freaking out. you're close. you're so close that he can feel every time you exhale out of your nose. this closet had no space, so you were practically pressed up on dan heng.
the one thing he couldn't see though, was your face. dan heng wanted to see your face. he wanted to study you up close: he wanted to your skin with his hands, wanted to pull you closer so he can observe the way your mouth lifts when you smile. he wants so much, but he can have none of it.
"i think i can break us out," dan heng offered.
"do you think they're guarding the doors?" you chuckled. dan heng gave a small smile after hearing your laugh. it's ironic that you're laughing in this situation while dan heng's heart is about to burst.
"i think the both of us can take them," dan heng answered.
this is the most you two have ever spoken to each other in days. you missed his voice and you missed being so close to him. unconsciously, you leaned closer to dan heng. you would know his warmth from anywhere.
as you two try to find a good point to hit, your hands brush against dan heng's. the way his hand feels on top of yours just feels right. the way his touch is still so gentle; oh how badly you missed his touch against yours.
"i'm sorry!" dan heng quickly removed his hands from yours. he moved away from you as well. you wanted so badly to chase him: you wanted to come closer, to place your hands with his one more time.
but you didn't. you doubted the fact that dan heng wanted to be near you. with his recent actions, you were wondering if the two of you were still on good terms or not. you could mess everything up with one action; dan heng was the very last thing you wanted to lose.
when you two finally found a good breaking point, you both put all your body strength into prying the doors open. it took a few tries, but the doors finally opened. however, there were consequences. the closet fell down with the combined force of both your bodies shaking it.
before you two fell to the floor, dan heng grabbed your arm and pulled you underneath him in a quick motion. your heart raced against your chest; you were so close that you could feel dan heng's heartbeat as well. and to your surprise, his heart was beating just as fast as yours.
the closet fell on top of you, and dan heng shoved it off of the two of you in one motion. seeing him do that just made your heart beat faster, and you were sure that you were breathing faster as well.
dan heng looked down to check on you, but doing so brought him much closer to you. closer than he had ever been. if dan heng moved down a little bit more, he would be able to close the distance between your lips. the urge was tempting: he was on top of you, your faces were both so close to each other, and your breathing was rampant and quick.
"are you alright?" dan heng asked. his breath fanned your face and you stared right into his eyes.
"i should be asking you that," you breathlessly whispered. he was so close and you were about to burst.
"i'm alright," he leaned down closer, "don't worry about me."
you two were both in a daze when you found yourselves leaning closer to each other. dan heng cupped your face; he couldn't wait any longer. all resilience went out the window, because right here, right now, you were here. you were in front of him, looking as radiant as ever, and dan heng could close the distance right now.
his hands treaded carefully across your face, as if you were one-of-a-kind. finally, his hands rested against your cheeks, and he leaned closer. dan heng was so close to kissing you before a commotion entered the room.
"OH MY GOD!" march exclaimed before running out of the room.
you startled, and accidentally pushed dan heng off of you. you frantically apologized while dan heng brushed himself off and helped you up. you were shaking at what almost just happened. you almost kissed your best friend.
the distance between you and dan heng was wide. he made sure to stand exactly five feet away from you. his hands were crossed and he refused to look at you. dan heng was worried that if he got even the slightest glance at you, he wouldn't be able to stop himself from what would happen next.
you both quickly left the room with racing hearts, confused thoughts, and a realization that whatever just happened was a mistake.
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WHENEVER DAN HENG NEEDS SOMEONE to help him with his wounds, you are always that person.
at first, it was for team bonding. before stelle came, you all would take turns patching wounds to build team trust. however, with dan heng, the only person that he'd let patch up his wounds was you. you used to tease him and tell him that he was like a dog in that way, but he always brushed it off.
you were always gentle with him; carefully touching up on cuts and bruises with bandages or rubbing alcohol. by no means were you any doctor, but you were tender and calm.
dan heng was wounded again. there was no reason for him to be wounded. the fight was tame; the enemies weren't extremely powerful or anything. but for some reason, dan heng surpassed the rest of the team with more cuts.
now, you two were in a small room together. luckily, it's more spacious than the closet, but it wasn't as big as dan heng's room. you and dan heng were both sitting on a table; you sitting criss-cross-applesauce while dan heng was sitting properly.
the both of you haven't talked ever since the closet incident. instead, you two have been sharing gazes, brushing past each other in halls, and staying five feet away from each other.
this was the closest you have been in a while.
you are focused on banadaging dan heng's cuts. your eyes are glued to his arms and torso; you refused to look up at dan heng. you couldn't look at him for two reasons: you were slightly mad at him for obtaining so many injuries and you still couldn't look him in the eye after the past situation.
dan heng sat in silence as you tended to him. he knew you were mad at him, and he felt awful. dan heng knew that he didn't need to sustain as many injuries has he had. the only reason why he had so many injuries was that he was trying to distract himself from his feelings. the closet situation had him questioning himself. given the chance, would he hold himself back or would he let his urges win?
"i'm done," you let go of his arms and started putting bandages away. dan heng didn't know you'd be done so quickly. he wanted to bask in your grace for a little longer. dan heng thought about pulling a stitch in order to get you to stay longer, but that just seemed weird.
dan heng knew he couldn't let you leave like this. there was too many unspoken words between you two; most of them, partially his.
during this, dan heng realized something. he realized that, even though you are still mad at him, you stayed with him. you didn't ask for march or stelle to help him, but you did it yourself. dan heng could be reading too much into it, but dan heng is tired. he's tired of longing for you.
and maybe, just maybe, if you'll stay when it gets difficult (like right now), maybe you'll stay when it gets hard as well.
dan heng decides to leave all resilience behind. for once, he doesn't calculate the consequences nor does he hold himself back.
you're about to slide off the table until dan heng pleads, "wait." he grabs your arm and holds you there with a gentle grip. you could slip out of it if you wanted to, but this may be the first actual conversation the two of you will have in a while.
dan heng takes your silence as an answer. "thank you," he says. he curses at himself at the simple response. it was anti-climatic. "i appreciate you," he adds on.
the compliment made you blush, even though it was very simplistic. you avoid looking at him and rather focus on tapping your fingers on the table. "no problem. it was nothing anyway."
you two remain silent for a few moments; you didn't want to leave in fear that this may be one of your few conversations. dan heng was trying to find the right words to say.
"i really do appreciate you. for being here. for always being here," he continues. dan heng realizes he sounds redundant, and he wants to slap his palm across his face. with you, he couldn't find the right words to convey his actions. saying, "i'm sorry," wasn't enough and saying, "i miss you," was too little.
"i told you. it's nothing. i'd do the same for everyone else," and you wanted to chide yourself for saying the last sentence. not true, because the only person who'd you really do all of this for was only dan heng.
"i think this is the longest conversation we've had in a while," you murmur to yourself.
"i know," dan heng replies. you jump back on the table, almost falling off. if it wasn't for dan heng catching you (yet again), you would've fell off. his touch sends electricity through your veins; his touch brings warmth to your body.
"hey! you need to watch your stitches," you automatically scolded him. your nagging was a normal occurrence, but this time, it felt rare. dan heng hasn't heard you nag at him for years (days), and he feels as though he can breath normally now.
"sorry," he pulls back. you're left shuffling closer to dan heng, not that you notice, due to your almost fall. you two were facing each other now; the distance was a lot closer than before.
you let out a small laugh at the situation. practically falling of a table was not a laughing matter, but you always found joy in those situations. sometimes, dan heng thought it was a bit strange, but he always valued your optimism.
"i'm sorry dan heng," you look back down on the table, "i didn't know going through your data bank would make you ignore me for days," you let out dry chuckle.
dan heng furrows his eyebrows in shock, "don't apologize. i don't mind you looking through the data bank."
you looked up after his reply, expression shadowed with confusion, "wait? really? so... why the radio silence? did i have something to do with it?"
"no! no, it wasn't you," dan heng quickly reassured. "it was me. i was the problem."
"don't have to tell me that," you smiled and bit the inside of your cheek to keep yourself from laughing.
"i'm gonna let that slide," dan heng smirked. it was nice, the way you two fell back into your normal routines once again. it was like all the tension that was previously there, simply dissipated.
"i missed you," you crossed your legs on the table, moving back to the criss-cross applesauce position.
"me too," dan heng replied. "i missed you a lot." he looked straight into your eyes.
you flustered underneath his gaze, "i probably missed you more. sometimes i dunno if i can survive without you," you joked. it was a joke, but occasionally, you find it to be true.
"for me, it's the other way around," dan heng mumbled beneath his breath. "i really missed you. and our late nights. and star-watching."
"you missed star-watching?" you astonishly asked. dan heng wished he could take a picture of your grin when he told you that he missed star-watching.
"i missed a lot of things," dan heng paused, "but i missed you the most."
"i'm sorry for pushing you away yn. i was just⎯ scared," time to rip off the band-aid, "when i'm around you, i just get so messed up. you're the only thing on my mind sometimes. everything about you just makes me⎯ breathless? speechless? you amaze me to the point where i can't even think of a word to describe you."
dan heng pauses and his heart is racing. you're looking at him as if you want him to continue, as if you want him to finally say what he wants. dan heng doesn't know that you want it too.
"yn," dan heng looks straight at you, "i have feelings for you. feelings that i think will overwhelm me at one point if i keep it all together. i never stop thinking about you, longing for you. i want you and i think i really want to kiss you," dan heng finishes. he fumbled on his words back there, because he doesn't think he wants to kiss you, he wants to.
"dan heng..." your face is hot. your body is hot. your breathing is fast-paced and you feel like you are about to be on fire. adrenaline rushes through your veins and you are sure you are not thinking straight.
you pull him in for a kiss, tugging him closer by his chin and kissing him passionately. you take that fire from your body and you pour it all into this kiss. dan heng is surprised at first, but then reciprocates your actions. while your hand is on his face, his hands slide to your hips, tugging you closer and holding you tighter.
you two kiss until you have to stop for air. when you breathe, the whole world feels like it's on fire as well.
"i feel the same. i can't stop thinking about you," you lean in for another kiss, "i miss you," another kiss, "i missed being with you," another, "i missed being close to you," another, this time a little longer, "but i really hope i don't miss this."
"don't worry," dan heng pauses, "you won't. i promise."
and after all of that, dan heng finally got to kiss you.
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therealcocoshady · 8 months
Note
Are you accepting requests if not by past this .
: Marshall/ em x fem reader
Y/N and Marshall have a baby girl together (Lilly around 4 or 5 ) and when there around the dinner table she happens to mention that she wants a new sibling so her parents (Y/N and Marshall) talk her into an animal in substitution of a child . But that brings on the topic of having another baby between Marshall and Y/N
Sorry this is really bad . Never done this before
If you don’t do it it’s fine lol
I still love u
One last baby ? - One Shot
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Eminem x FemReader
Author’s not : thanks for the request ❤️. I really enjoyed writing it. I hope you enjoy it. I added a little twist of my own, I hope you don’t’ mind. 👀
Words : 4027
Tags : Fluff
You sighed as you rummaged through the pile of clothes that you needed to donate to Goodwill. Your daughter had grown up so much in the past few months that she almost needed a new wardrobe. It wasn’t an issue in and of itself, but you had a hard time parting ways with the clothes that no longer fit her. Your baby girl was growing up and even though it was amazing to see her blossom, it broke your heart. It seemed like yesterday, you were bringing her home from the hospital, starting your journey as a mom. And now, she was about to turn five. She was no longer your little baby : she was becoming more and more independent, she didn’t need you to do everything for her anymore. Soon, she would no longer need you to hold your hand or cut her food. If you’d known how fast time would go by, you would have cherished these moments even more than you had. 
Your little Lily was a dream come true : you had spent so many nights wishing for a baby, praying that you would be a mom someday, waiting for the right man to come along. But after you had turned thirty-five, you had grown tired of waiting for Prince Charming and you had taken matters into your own hands. Thanks to science, you didn’t need to be in a relationship to have a baby, and you’d rather have one on your own and be a single mom than settle for anyone, just for the sake of starting a family. You had been told countless times that your standards were too high and that you were selfish for wanting to have a baby on your own, but it didn’t matter. You knew it was the right time to be a mom so you decided to become one. It wasn’t easy, but with the help of a fertility clinic and after two rounds of IVF and nine months of sickness, you had welcomed your beautiful baby girl. She was your biggest blessing and you were incredibly happy that you hadn’t decided to wait for Mister Right. 
Ironically, you had ended up meeting him merely four months after you had Lily. You had moved from New York to Michigan after being hired by Paul Rosenberg. You were already involved in the music industry, working in A&R, but you were looking for a higher position and a better salary, and you had been told there was an opportunity at Shady Records. You had always thought you wanted to work for a bigger, more prestigious label, but as soon as you had been told about the job, you knew you had to apply : everything in the job description was right up your alley, the money was good and it offered you enough flexibility to be able to raise your daughter as a single mother. Applying turned out to be one of your best decisions, right after deciding to have your daughter : you loved your job and, through it, you met Marshall. At first, your relationship was strictly professional, but you quickly became friends. Technically speaking, he was your boss, but even though the job could be demanding, he was extremely understanding and supportive of your role as a single mom. Whenever Lily was sick or there was a problem at daycare, you were allowed to leave early, work from home or even have your baby with you. It probably helped that your daughter was adorable and that the whole team had fallen in love with her. She had also fallen in love with them, especially Marshall, who had a way with children. She had quickly become obsessed with him, which was not really surprising, since he was always making faces at her, tickling her and playing with her. She loved sitting on his lap and playing with him. Especially when he let her push the buttons on the mixing desk. She loved being at the studio, and every time you took her, she was having a blast. At first, you didn’t want to take her too often, as you were here to work and that little kids could be a nuisance, but Marshall assured you it was fine. At some point, you ended up taking Lily to work a bit more. He was working on a new album and you had to put in more hours, which you didn’t mind, the only issue being that daycare closed too early. However, Marshall had come through and set up a small space for Lily with a crib, some toys and a playpen, so that you could have her with you and still work. Small gestures like this were what led you to fall for him in the first place. He was the kindest man you had ever met. Still, at first, you were a bit reluctant to accept when he asked you on a date. He was your boss and your daughter was your absolute priority. Nonetheless, he managed to win you over after months of flirting. In the beginning, you didn’t think it was going to be too serious and you weren’t too sure about letting a man into your and your daughter’s life, but your relationship ended up moving pretty quickly. From the start, he let you know that he was serious about your relationship and that he wanted to include Lily in your plans. Being a father himself, he understood that she was your priority. So he became a staple in your life and Lily’s and they formed a bond of their own. He became one of her favorite people and she even graced him with her first steps, one late night in the studio. She wanted to go and hug him and you expected her to crawl as usual, but she walked from the couch to his chair. You were jealous, but also really happy that she loved him so much. The feeling was mutual. In fact, the day he proposed to you, he also proposed to her ! You had been dating for over a year at this point and were practically living together. 
I don’t remember you telling me about Lily’s full name, he said one night at dinner. Does she have a middle name ? 
No, you said. I wanted to keep it simple. 
And she was born in New York, right ? He asked. 
Yes, you confirmed with a smile. Why ? 
Nothing, he said. My lawyer just wanted the information. 
Your lawyer ? You asked confused. 
Yeah, I was considering updating my will, he said casually. To include Lily, you know ? 
You stared at him in shock. 
Wait… Why would you do that ? You asked. 
Just in case something happens to me, he explained. I want her to be taken care of. I would also like to set up a small trust for her. That way, she can pay for college, that kind of thing. 
You don’t have to do that, you said. I’ll pay for her studies myself. She’s my daughter, my responsibility, not yours. 
What if we changed that ? He asked with a smile. What if she was our daughter ? 
You want to… adopt her ? You asked in shock. You don’t have to -
I know I don’t have to, he chuckled. But I want to. I love her as much as I love my daughters. I change her diapers, I read to her, I tuck her in… I do all of that Dad stuff already, and I love it. I want to care for her as much as I can. 
You were moved, seeing how much he cared about her. They had a great bond and he was right, he was already a father figure to her. He was there everyday and took care of her as if she was his. Still, you were nervous. It was a big step and you didn’t want him to regret his decision. 
What if we break up ? You asked nervously. Have you thought about it ? 
I have, he smiled. And it wouldn’t change anything to how I feel about Lily. 
Ok, you said emotionally. I guess we could do that. 
He got up and took you in his arms before kissing both of your hands. Then, he took Lily from her high chair and gave her a kiss, making her giggle. She leaned and rested her head against his. 
What do you say, princess ? Do you want me to be your Daddy? He asked softly. 
She cooed and brought her little hand to his face. She wasn’t too talkative yet. She was very active, but when it came to talking, she didn’t seem too keen. It didn’t matter much, because she was very good at making sure everyone understood her. He kissed her again before putting her back so she could keep on eating her finger food. He kissed you tenderly and stroked your cheek. 
Before we make it official, I do have something to tell you, though, he said. 
Yes ? You asked nervously. 
I didn’t actually take Lily to the park today, he confessed with a smile. 
Where were you then? You asked confused. You were gone all afternoon. 
Running errands, he said with a smile. I needed Lily’s help to pick up something. 
You stared at him and waited for him to elaborate, but he didn’t say more. Instead, he reached in his pocket and took out a small box. Understanding where this was going, you covered your hand with your mouth, tears starting to well in your eyes as he got down on one knee. 
You had been married for almost three years now and you couldn’t ask for more. You were about to turn forty and you felt incredibly lucky : you had an amazing husband, with whom you had a beautiful blended, tight-knit family. Even if Lily was not his biological child, she took a lot after Marshall. They had the same way of pursing their lips when they were frustrated and you could swear she was his when she gave a side-eye whenever she found something annoying. The looks were all yours, but the sassiness was all his. You loved that she took a bit after him. In hindsight, it wasn’t too surprising : he had been in her life for so long, she didn’t have any memory of life without him. She knew he wasn’t her biological dad, but it didn’t matter. She was definitely a Daddy’s girl. You had a special bond of your own with Lily, but she had him wrapped around her finger. It was the sweetest thing ever, although you sometimes worried that if he kept on indulging her in everything, she would turn into a brat. Although, whenever you touched on the subject, he shrugged it off. Still, you were afraid that if she asked for a pony, you would end up with one in the living room. Or worse, with Marshall actually purchasing stables and turning into a farmer. When it came to his princess, your husband seemed virtually unable to say no. He often used the excuse that his other kids were grown up and that Lily wouldn’t be his baby for too long. 
You heard the front door as Marshall brought Lily home from preschool. You left your pile of clothing and went to greet the loves of your life. She was on his shoulders as you walked down the stairs. 
Look Mommy, I’m tall, she giggled. 
I see that, baby, you chuckled. Didn’t we say that you had to walk on your own and that Daddy had to stop carrying you on his shoulders all the time, though ? 
It’s fine, he said. I only carried her for half of the way. 
See ? Your daughter asked. Daddy says it’s ok. 
You rolled your eyes and stared at your husband who was beaming. He gently let her down and she went to play in the living room. 
You’re turning her into a lazy person, you chuckled. 
Come on, let me enjoy this, he said with a smile. She’s starting elementary school next year and I’m not ready yet. I can’t believe my baby is turning five… 
We still have to see what we’re getting her, you reminded him. 
How about a puppy ? 
You stared at him in disbelief. She had been talking about getting a puppy for ages but you weren’t so sure. A puppy was a lot of work and she was still too young to help around with it. Plus, Marshall would soon go on tour and you would be busy enough. 
We’re not getting her a puppy, you said. No way. 
She’s been talking about it for a while, he pointed out. And you see how crazy she is about the neighbor's corgi. 
Well she can keep on playing with him, you chuckled. But my hands will already be full while you’re on tour, with Lily, the house, work… I don’t need a puppy on top of that. 
We’ll see, he said. 
He seemed pretty sure that you would change your mind, but there was no way. At dinner, you decided to quiz your daughter about what she would like for her birthday. Hopefully, she had her eye set on a Barbie. 
Tell me, baby, what do you want for your birthday ? You asked. 
A sister ! She said giddily. 
You already have three sisters, you reminded her. You have Lainey, Hailie and Stevie. 
I want a little sister ! She corrected. 
You and Marshall stared at each other for a second. That was new. Lily was surrounded by adults and had never shown too much interest in other children. 
A little sister ? Marshall asked. Where does that come from ? 
My friend Emma is going to have a little sister, she said. I want one too. And I can play with her all the time. 
You were about to turn forty and you had never really thought about having another baby after Lily. With Marshall having three daughters of his own, your family felt complete. Plus, you didn’t keep a fond memory of your pregnancy. The successive rounds of IVF had been testing, so had been the next nine months. 
You know what would be great to play with ? You asked nervously. 
What ? She asked with a huge smile. 
A puppy, you said. 
Marshall looked at you with a shit-eating grin. Your daughter shrieked in excitement. 
Can we get one like Elton ? She asked, referring to the neighbor’s dog. 
Of course, baby, Marshall said with a huge smile. 
And then, the baby can play with it too ! 
You looked sheepishly at Marshall who shrugged. You figured that it was best not to say anything and focus on the puppy. After all, it was probably her age. All kids wanted younger siblings, right ? When Lily was finally in bed, you went to your bedroom with your husband. 
So… You agreed to the dog, he grinned. 
I deflected, you admitted. It was either that or a baby, so… 
It’ll be great, he reassured you. Plus, when I’m on tour, she won’t miss me as much if she has a dog to come home to. 
You’re right, you said. I must say I’m a bit anxious though. She’ll miss you a lot. 
I will miss her too, he said. I will miss both of you, actually. The offer for you to come still stands, you know ? 
I have work and she has school, you reminded him. 
Preschool, he chuckled. 
That’s important, you said. 
Nothing we can’t teach her on our own, he said. I would love to have you with me. And Lily could see the world a little bit. That’s just as important as school. 
How about work ? You mused.
Let me check with your boss… Oh wait, that's me, he chuckled. He says it’s fine. Plus, you can get work done from anywhere. 
What about the dog ? 
One of the girls can take care of it, he shrugged. I mean, Stevie has three big dogs, so I doubt a small one would be a problem. 
We’ll see, you said. 
You started getting ready for bed. The pile of Lily’s clothes you were sorting earlier was still on the bed. 
What’s that ? Marshall asked as he rummaged through them. 
Some of Lily’s old clothes, for Goodwill, you said. I’d keep them, but there’s no room in her closet. 
You’re getting rid of all of that ? he asked sheepishly. 
You knew him well enough to know he would get sentimental. Getting rid of your daughter’s baby clothes was emotional for you too, but on a practical level, it didn’t make much sense to hoard them. 
Come on, Y/N, he said. You can’t get rid of this dress. Or those PJs. She was so cute in them.
She outgrew them long ago, you pointed out. It would be better if someone had a use for them, don’t you think ? 
We could have a use for them, he said before kissing you seductively. 
Oh really ? You asked as you raised an eyebrow. 
He nodded with a grin and kissed you passionately. You kissed him back as he pushed you on the bed, attempting to undress you. 
Wait, seriously ? You asked confused. You’d like another child ? 
I mean… I’m not against the idea, he said with a smile. 
At our age ? I mean, you just turned fifty and I’m turning forty soon. Isn’t that a little late ? 
You know, I didn’t expect to have another child in my forties, he said referring to Lily, but it’s the best thing that ever happened to me. And when I see Lily, I’m thinking I wouldn’t mind having another one just like her. It helps that you seem to make beautiful babies, too. I’d enjoy having one last baby with you. Maybe have a boy ? 
He was smiling, staring lovingly at you. You had never talked about having another child together. As he had told you in the past, after his divorce, he had been pretty adamant about being done with the whole marriage and baby-making thing. Obviously, he hadn’t planned on you and Lily walking into his life but still, knowing how views, you never tried to push anything on him. To be fair, you had never even considered the possibility of having a child together. He definitely took you by surprise, but you weren’t fully against the idea either. He was an amazing father to all four kids and you knew a fifth one wouldn’t be an exception. 
What do you think, beautiful ? He asked as he stroked your cheek. 
I don’t know, you admitted. That’s a little tempting, I must admit. But I never saw us trying for a baby. Like, do we want to be that couple, planning intercourse, counting cycles and everything ? Also, what if it doesn’t work ? I don’t want to do IVF again. That shit is trying. And pregnancy is no picnic either. For Lily, I struggled a lot, I was sick all the time. 
First of all, if we decide to do this, I’ll be here every step of the way, he reassured you. You were on your own when you had her, but this time, it would be different. And if it doesn’t work… Well, it doesn’t. We already have four amazing kids, I’ll survive without a fifth one. I don’t want to put pressure on it. Let’s put it this way : if we had an unplanned pregnancy, I’d welcome it with open arms. It doesn’t have to be more complicated than that. If you don’t want to, that’s cool. But if you’re up for it, so am I. 
Ok, you said softly. One last baby. 
He beamed at you and kissed you. He seemed truly overjoyed by the possibility of welcoming another baby. One last one. 
I’ve never tried for a baby, he chuckled. This is going to be fun. 
Cut the BS, Mathers, you giggled. You’re the most experienced man I know, when it comes to babymaking. 
No I’m serious, he explained. I’ve never had one on purpose. They all came my way. Hailie was definitely a surprise, obviously we didn’t plan on taking Alaina in, I definitely wasn’t expecting Kim to be pregnant with Steve when I got back with her, same with Lily… I’ve never actively tried for a baby. 
Still, by the looks of it, I’d say it was fate, you said. You ended up with four daughters. 
And maybe fate has another one in store for me, he chuckled. Regardless, I think I will have a lot of fun trying for baby number five. 
I still have to get off birth control, you giggled. 
Good thing you’re taking the pill and you can just skip it, he grinned as he playfully grabbed your ass. 
So we’re really doing this ? You beamed. 
We are, he said as he kissed you. And now you have no choice but to come on tour with me. For the sake of trying. You know I don’t half-ass it. 
What if I get pregnant before then ? You asked playfully, although you knew it was unlikely. 
All the more reason, he said. That way I can take care of you. That would be awesome, actually. How great would it be if you were pregnant by Lily’s birthday ? She’d be overjoyed. 
You chuckled and stared at him. Lily’s birthday was just around the corner and there was no way you’d be pregnant by then, or at least not far along enough for you to announce it. 
Are you trying to convince me to have a child just because she wants a sibling ? You joked with a falsely offended face. 
I’m not, he chuckled. But what Lily wants, she gets, I guess ? 
What’s next then ? You wondered as you rolled your eyes. A pony ? 
I’m saving the idea for Christmas, actually, he said in a serious voice although you seriously hope he was joking. 
Shut up and put a baby in me, you ordered him. 
He pushed you on the bed again and wasted no time before undressing you. That night, the lovemaking was even better than usual. He was right : trying for that baby would be a lot of fun indeed, whether or not it ended up working. 
Epilogue 
The two of you tried for a few months, without bothering to plan intercourse or doing impossible math to try and figure out when you were ovulating and, eventually, you became pregnant for the second time. Marshall was over the moon when you told him and, as promised, he was here every step of the way. He was ecstatic when the two of you went for your first ultrasound appointment. 
I get to see my son, he said with a smile. 
It’s too early to know the gender, Marshall, you giggled. 
I know it’s a boy, he said. Fate, remember ? It’s all part of the plan, I’m telling you. 
Right. Because that’s usually how it works out for you and children, you joked. 
You were pretty sure you were having a girl. You didn’t really care about the gender, but it was just a gut feeling that you had. As long as the baby was healthy, it didn’t matter anyway. 
Here it is, the doctor said as she pointed at the screen. Your baby. 
Oh my God, Marshall said as he held your hand, visibly overcome with emotion. 
Is everything alright ? You asked. 
From the looks of it, yes, she said with a smile as she moved the probe on your belly. Wait… 
You felt your heart strain and Marshall held your hand a little tighter as both of you tensed up. You were silently praying, hoping that your baby was healthy. After a minute, the doctor turned to you. 
Congratulations, she said. You’re expecting twins. And they’re perfectly healthy. 
Marshall almost fell off his chair. If the pregnancy was no surprise, that turn of event was unexpected. As far as you knew, neither of you had twins in the family. You were a little shocked but really happy. 
So even when it’s planned, it’s really not, your husband chuckled as he kissed your hand. 
I think you're doomed for surprises, my love.
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