#oh i hope this hit you guys in the heart like it did me

[nameless-jamie]

Hi, I see that you're busy so no pressure. Just wanted to thank you for your ffs and ask if you'd consider continuing Steady Hands? Just wanted to read about Jamie and PA having lunch and him being an absolute himbo trying to distruct her 🥰 thanks 🥰🥰🥰

Steady Heart

Small Drabble (read Steady Hands first!)

Masterlist

Jamie Tartt x fem! PA reader

TW: cursing

A/N: Thank you for the request and the interest in this specific fic! I actually couldn't think of the situation further, as a long chapter, so I turned it into a small drabble I hope that's okay too! But I bet we'll see more of himbo Jamie soon! (Why is spelling soufflé so hard???)

The midday sun bathed the quaint café in a golden glow, casting playful shadows across the rustic wooden table where Y/N and Jamie sat. The remnants of their lunch lay between them, but Jamie's attention was entirely on her, his signature mischievous grin playing on his lips.

"You know," Jamie began, leaning back and stretching his arms, the movement causing his shirt to tighten across his chest, "I once tried to cook a romantic dinner. Thought I'd impress someone special."

Y/N raised an eyebrow, intrigued. "Oh? And how did that turn out?"

"Well," He chuckled, a playful glint in his eye. "let's just say the fire department knows me by name now."

She laughed, the sound light and genuine. "What were you attempting to make?"

"A soufflé," he admitted, leaning in slightly. "Didn't realize you're not supposed to open the oven every five minutes to check on it."

Y/N shook her head, smiling. "That's adorable, Jamie. But we know that cooking isn't your thing."

Jamie smiled, his expression earnest. "Hey, if you ever need a laugh, just remember: I once set cereal on fire. Last Monday actually."

She giggled, the tension from earlier in the day melting away. "How is that even possible? I thought when you set that shelf on fire it was the last time the fire department had to come?!"

"It's a talent, babe. The guys from the fire department are fans by the way..." he said with a wink.

Jamie leaned closer, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. "You know, I have other talents too. Plenty..."

She felt a blush creep up her cheeks but met his gaze steadily. "Oh? Care to elaborate?"

Swear to god if it's something sexual, Jamie Tartt. She might hit him...

"Nah, these talents ya have to discover yourself..." He smirked, eyes twinkling. "Look, I'm also pretty good at making people smile. Like right now. Fuck, got to make a list of me talents now."

Y/N rolled her eyes playfully. "Is that so? Maybe I'm just humoring you."

Jamie placed a hand over his heart in mock offense. "Wounding me, love. Here I am, pouring my heart out, and you're just humoring me."

She laughed again, the earlier tension of the day melting away. "Alright, Mr. Tartt. What else you got, tell me more about your other 'talents'."

He leaned back, a thoughtful expression on his face. "Well, I'm also quite skilled at reading people."

"Oh really?" she challenged. "And what do you read from me, then?"

Jamie met her eyes, his gaze softening. "I see someone who's been carrying a lot on her shoulders. Someone who deserves a break and a bit of fun."

Y/N felt her breath hitch slightly. "And you're the one to provide that fun, I suppose?"

He grinned, leaning in once more. "Absolutely. Starting with dessert. They have this chocolate lava cake here that's to die for. Share it with me?"

She pretended to ponder. "Hmm, I don't know. Sharing dessert is quite intimate."

Jamie winked. "Exactly."

As the waiter brought over the decadent dessert, Jamie grabbed a fork, scooping up a piece of the molten cake. He held it out to her, eyes locked onto hers.

"Open wide," he teased.

Y/N hesitated for a moment before leaning in, accepting the bite. The rich chocolate melted on her tongue, but it was the intensity of Jamie's gaze that truly made her heart race.

"Delicious?" he asked, his voice low.

She nodded, swallowing. "Fuck. Very."

Jamie took a bite himself, then offered her another. "You know, they say sharing food is a way to someone's heart, babe."

Y/N smirked. "Is that your plan? To win my heart with chocolate cake?"

He leaned in so close she could feel his breath. "It's a start."

The air between them seemed to thicken, the playful banter giving way to a deeper connection. Y/N felt a flutter in her chest, a mix of excitement and nervousness.

"Jamie," she began, her voice soft.

"Yes, love?"

"Thank you. For this. I didn't realize how much I needed it."

He reached across the table, taking her hand in his. "Anytime. And I mean that."

As they finished their dessert, the world outside the café continued on, but inside, time seemed to stand still for the two of them, lost in each other's company.

[rocknrolldecadence]

Hi, it's me again! This time i would like to request something smutty for Axl, again. Like Axl blindfolds the reader (preferably with his bandana) and goes down on her till she gets overstimulated and can't think of anything else except from him, and then fucks her. Please include again some soft hand holding, oh and some praise kink. If you don't feel comfortable doing it it's okay, thank you!!

˖⁺‧₊˚ ˚₊‧⁺˖✮-------------------✮˖⁺‧₊˚ ˚₊‧⁺˖

appetite for destruction

after a show, you and axl just can’t get enough of each other.

warnings: smut, sensory deprivation

a/n: sorry it’s been so long guys!!! lack of motivation and writers block is a horrible combo. hope you guys like this!!!!!! (also this is exactly 900 words. isn’t that cool?)

“you looked so good tonight, babe.”

axl’s words penetrated your heart and your mind as you both scrambled to get into your hotel room. guns n roses had just played at saskatchewan place earlier on, and instead of going out to party with the other members of the band, axl only wanted to do one thing. spend some quality time with you.

his skin was still sweaty from the two hour show he had played, but you didn’t care. those two hours had been agonising for you - watching your boyfriend sing and dance just metres in front of you and absorbing his stage presence that just commanded respect and not being able to do anything about it. you had crossed your legs and hoped for the best, but that didn’t do much for you. you prayed that no one noticed the subtle action, as you knew if someone did, you might never hear the end of it.

you kissed axl with fervour, now lost in the heat of the moment. he returned your passion easily. he guided you over to the bed, letting you fall onto it with a soft ‘thump!’. the loss of contact made you whine, and you turned onto your stomach to watch your boyfriend draw the curtains, the minimal light coming in from the moon and city lights now cut off.

“c’mere.” you said, looking at the silhouette just a few steps in front of you.

axl didn’t say anything back, instead moving to turn on one of the bedside lamps. you could see him again now. sure, the light was dim, but you liked that. it provided an intimate ambiance that a brighter light wouldn’t be able to give you. and it made axl look even more incredible. the understated yellow glow made his features look more soft, more warm. he almost looked vulnerable.

he came and sat beside you, his tender gaze stopping your thoughts in their tracks. you sat up and he leaned in to kiss you. this time though, it was a lot more gentle. the desperation of before was now replaced with something more affectionate and slow. the room with was quiet, the smack of his lips meeting yours the only sound.

disappointment hit you again when he pulled away. you looked at him with sad eyes, but those feelings were taken over by curiosity when your boyfriend asked you, “can i try something?”

“what is it?”

axl took off his blue bandana. you quickly realised where this was headed, blush rising to your cheeks. he tied it round the back of your head with ease, your eyes now covered.

“what do you think?” he asked.

“it’s… new. i like it. what are you gonna do now?”

“you’ll see.”

wow. that was hot. then, before you could think, axl was undressing you. you didn’t say anything, looking forward to what was to come. the slow drag of his fingertips on your skin as he removed your underwear was infuriatingly slow, but you continued to be silent with anticipation. you trusted him to make you feel amazing.

it started with small licks taken at the most annoying, leisurely pace you’d ever experienced. the sensation was welcome by you of course, but you couldn’t help but wish for more in your head.

axl continued at the same speed, occasionally breaking to whisper how you ‘taste so damn good’ and ‘are just fucking breathtaking’ - compliments that made you see stars. it was that which caused your first of many orgasms, and as your high crashed down over you, you felt like you’d reached a whole other dimension.

and that carried on for ages. axl, with his tongue, bringing you to worlds you didn’t even know existed. you didn’t remember exactly when he gripped onto your hand, but it helped ground you after so many orgasms. if you could’ve strung together coherent sentences, you probably would’ve begged for mercy, but you were so lost in the feeling to even think about anything but him. and he revelled in it. you couldn’t see his shit-eating grin, but you could feel it, as the corners of his mouth progressed farther and farther upwards on his cheeks the more time he spent between your thighs.

and then he stopped. you felt a mix of relief and disappointment as his lips departed from your skin. he untied the bandana, and as you looked at him for the first time in god knows how long, you were stunned. he was just beautiful. with his little smirk and his lips coated in the aftermath of your overstimulation, and the way he looked at you with both overwhelming lust and complete adoration. he should be photographed and shown in a museum, you thought. that was just how gorgeous he was.

“well?” he asked, his smirk telling you he already knew your answer.

“fuck… that was… jesus, axl, it was brilliant.”

he laughed. a cocky, but endearing laugh. it was just as beautiful as him.

“i’m glad. you ready for more?”

your eyes widened. more? you weren’t sure you could handle even the thought of more, let alone the action.

but the way your boyfriend looked you, the way the dim yellow light shone on him… you couldn’t help but want it.

[softspeirs]

hiya katie! i hope you're having a lovely evening. could i please request "27. — boxes" for....ellie and bucky, please? (or anyone you are feeling!) <3 — @shoshiwrites

A/N: Hiya Sho! I had another person ask for more of Bucky and Ellie as they settle into their relationship, so combining these two prompts if that's ok! This one is another lil interlude. Pals, I'll take more prompts from this list if you've got 'em!

When the box first arrived on Ellie's doorstep courtesy of the mailman, she set it on the kitchen table and refused to look at it for the rest of the day.

She'd stop by the cluttered table and pretend it wasn't there, worrying her thumbnail with her teeth.

"D'ya think it's a bomb?" Her brother whispers in her ear, and she jumps.

"You startled me!" She smacks at his arm, and he laughs as he ducks out of the way.

"What are we looking at? Mail?"

"It's not just mail," she says, exasperated. "It's-- it's from John's--"

Her brother picks it up, an absolutely irritating smile growing on his face. "His mother!" He squawks, shoving it at her like she hadn't already realized where it had come from, seeing the Wisconsin postmark. "Do you think he knows she sent something?"

"I suspect not, or if he did, he was too embarrassed to say anything."

Her brother laughs again, and Ellie flushes. "Don't you dare say anything when he comes for dinner."

"Aren't you going to open it?"

Ellie feels so foolish - she can't explain why she's so nervous. It's just that it's Bucky's mother, and it feels serious in a way that she wasn't prepared for.

(There's also a niggling voice in the back of her mind reminding her that John said he only got one or two letters from his mother while he was in the Stalag, and even though she doesn't know the reasoning behind it, it still makes protectiveness surge up inside her - she wishes Mrs. Egan would have sent a package to her son, instead)

It's hours later when Bucky - and Buck, she's delighted to see - arrive. Bucky has a bouquet of flowers tucked under one arm, and he's laughing as he holds open the front gate for his friend.

She loves seeing him laugh.

She pulls open the door before they can knock. Marvels at how they mirror each other - both pulling off their caps, smoothing their hair.

"Majors," she drawls.

"Ma'am," Buck greets her with an amused half-smile. "Hope you don't mind I'm crashing your dinner."

"Of course not." Ellie steps closer to pull him into a one-armed hug. His arm tightens around her shoulder. "Go on in, Dad and Henry are in the kitchen."

Inside, introductions are made. Henry tries not to look too in awe of the Majors, but at fifteen, it's hard for him to hide it.

Ellie heads to the kitchen to finish up the last of the veggie pie she's been working on - the farmer down the way miraculously still had some butter on hand, and she's been babying a pie crust all afternoon.

She smiles to herself when Bucky's familiar footfalls sound behind her. His arms slide around her waist, and she grins, even as her cheeks warm.

"Behave yourself."

He hums. "Always."

She turns around to get a good look at him. His eyes crinkle at the edges when he smiles, and she hopes to see that look on his face for the rest of both their lives.

"Hello." She whispers.

He closes the distance between them. The kiss is light and chaste but still sets her heart racing. "Hi." He replies when they break apart. "You're sure you've got enough for one more person?" His expression turns concerned. "I don't want to put you out if you were planning on only feeding four."

"I have enough. You both need to eat, anyway."

He kisses her temple. "Too good to me." He mutters. He busies himself setting the table, and she hears the moment he stops short. Her eyes widen when she remembers.

"Oh!" She turns around quickly to find him frowning, the box already in his hand.

"Uh-- this is from..."

"Your mother. I got it today."

He looks at her, confused. "I... I have no idea what this is. How did she--"

Ellie fidgets. "I may have snooped the last time you left me alone in your room for a minute. I wanted your home address so I could write to her."

Bucky doesn't look angry or upset, he just looks so bewildered, Ellie could laugh. "You wrote to my..."

"Everything alright?" God bless Gale Cleven, Ellie thinks.

"Fine!" She says breezily, shoving a serving bowl and cutlery in his hands. "Set these out for me?"

He does as he's asked, but he keeps an eye on his friend. Ellie's heart clenches. She wonders how often he had to do this, had to study Bucky's expression to try to figure out if something was wrong.

"My mother sent El a package." Bucky says.

"Wedding dress?"

John gapes at his friend. Gale, on the other hand, is sporting a shit-eating grin not unlike the one Henry had earlier. "I-- we're-- why would you--"

"Relax, Egan. Just assumed."

"You think I wouldn't have told you--"

"It was a joke." Buck looks at Ellie for help. "That was a joke, Ellie."

"I know." She flaps her hands at her side uselessly. "I haven't opened it yet. I was... I was nervous! I know it's silly."

"Oh, god, Ma..." Bucky mutters, almost to himself. It makes a hysterical laugh bubble up out of Ellie. "You'd better go on then, I won't be able to eat unless I know she didn't send you my most embarrassing childhood photos."

"Neither will I." Gale deadpans.

Bucky hands Ellie the box across the dining room table, and she sets it down with nervous hands, reaching for her kitchen scissors to cut the ties.

Inside are a few bars of chocolate, which she knows Henry will swipe given half the chance, a small framed photo of Bucky in uniform, and a few sheafs of paper tucked into a brand-new leather bound diary.

She unfolds the letter first, muttering to herself about it being too much.

Bucky watches as her eyes well up as she reads, and feels himself practically vibrating as he tries to imagine what Mrs. Frances Egan has said to this woman he's pretty confident is going to be his wife one day. He's nervous and happy all wrapped up in one - he never told Ellie that he had written to his mother when he got back to Thorpe Abbotts to firstly reassure her that he was in one piece, but also to tell her that he thought he had found the woman of his dreams.

Knowing that Ellie had written to her without his knowledge... far from being upset that she kept it from him, he's touched because knowing Ellie, knowing what her own letters to him had been like, he knows she was writing to introduce herself, to tell someone important to him that she was taking care of him. He just knows it, without even having read the words.

"El?" Gale asks, and god if Bucky doesn't love seeing his best friend treat his girl like a sister. The quiet affection they have for each other already is like a balm for his soul after the last year and a half of a cold, gray, unfeeling existence.

"I'm okay," she insists, "It's-- oh, she's so nice." Ellie says, passing the letter off to John. "There's a page addressed to you; I didn't read it."

John still feels as if he's been whacked upside the head. This entire thing is so unexpected.

His mother tells Ellie (Eleanor, she had written) that she was so happy to hear from her, that she hopes Ellie has seen for herself that John was in one piece, and she talks at length about John's sisters. It makes him smile, to see how easily she's bringing Ellie into their lives.

The part, he's pretty sure, that had made Ellie cry was at the end. My son is so lucky to have someone like you to take care of him, though he'll deny he needs help at all. He's stubborn, but it sounds like you are as well. That's good - keep him in line for me. I've enclosed a journal and some stationary. Please keep writing if you'd like. The girls and I will be seeing you in person soon, I'm sure. I hope, anyway.

The page addressed to him is short and sweet. His mother writes in a vaguely threatening tone that he better make an honest woman out of Eleanor Peters soon. His heart rate kicks up when she asks if there's another, smaller box that she should send over soon.

Buck makes himself scarce after the table is set, with a knowing look at Bucky that makes him roll his eyes.

He walks over to Ellie, who is struggling to meet his eyes. He finds it so so endearing. "El." His fingers find her chin, tipping it up until she meets his eyes. "You wrote to my mother."

"'Course I did." She says, embarrassed. "Had to let her know her son was alive and well. You probably sent her half a page. 'Back from Stalag. In the hospital. Don't worry'", she mimics his deeper voice.

That pretty much is what Bucky sent home, but he doesn't admit it.

"Thank you. I hope this isn't-- I hope this didn't scare you off."

"It's too much. I can't accept this--" she says, but he's already shaking his head, hand sliding along her cheek until it threads through her hair, hand massaging her scalp in a way that is always so comforting when she does it to him.

"It's a gift. She wants you to have it, and honestly I'll be offended if you don't put that picture on your bedside table." He bats his lashes rapidly.

"Oh, shut up." She huffs, laughing. "Dinner is going to get cold."

He kisses her forehead, but lets her go, and they call her Dad, Henry, and Gale back into the dining room to sit down. Bucky regales her brother with stories while Buck chimes in once in a while to correct the record, much to his friend's chagrin, and over the rims of his glasses, her father grins at him.

This is the fullest their little house has been in a long time. Her chest tightens at the thought of leaving it behind, even if it is to go home with Bucky.

She tries to leave her worries for another day. In the meantime, she's already started to think of what she can send Mrs. Egan and her daughters in return.

Under the table, Bucky's hand finds hers, and he squeezes, like he can tell her brain is going a thousand miles an hour.

She smiles. She'll start packing a box in the morning.

[skyburger]

WHAT THE HELL NOBODY EVER TOLD ME TWO OF MY FAVE VILLAGERS GOT A LINE STICKER TOGETHER. ive loved tabby for YEARS like since 2019 at LEAST. and these stickers are from 2018 how did i not know !!! i love tabby and boots so much 😭😭😭 TABBY AND BOOTS ANIMAL CROSSING I LOVE YOU SO MUCHHHHH OOMFS FOREVER AND EVER

[hauntingblue]

I have connected two dots... yamato kaido and momo (and kinda shirahoshi with her top) have clouds above their shoulders... and luffy in gear fourth has them also.... I can see the signs

[thedollydiaries]

imagine like simon goes into some sort of surgery and has to be put under anesthesia, and when he gets out hes like still high asf on it 💀 and hes being a lil silly goose

okay this is such a cute idea omg, this is 100% based off that tiktok audio where it's like "my wife wouldn't like you touching me like that" "i AM your wife."

thank you so much for the request nonnie, a forehead kiss for you MWAH MWAH

simon 'ghost' riley x reader

wc: 563

warnings: none really, lots and lots of that good ol fluff, mentions of surgery, goofy simon, maybe a little ooc simon (he's high so it's fine)

a/n: i hope this is okay, i'm feeling a bit rusty with my writing but i've finally got back some motivation and energy to do so after the past two months of low energy and bad mental health. if you guys want to know a bit more about it and my mental health (i don't see why anyone would but lmao) let me know, i don't mind making a post about it if you guys want an explanation of some sort or whatever. anywho, sorry this is so short but i hope you still like it!! <3

a/n 2.0: i recently applied for a part time job at a bookstore so y'all pray for me that i get this job because i want it so bad. i am just gonna decide that i WILL get this job, because why wouldn't i?

simon had been out of surgery for just over an hour now, being a soldier you 'd think perhaps he was going under surgery for some kind of wound he had inflicted upon him on the battlefield but no, he was just getting his tonsils removed after a bad bout of tonsillitis ended up with him developing really bad tonsil stones.

so here you were, waiting by his bedside for him to wake up. the doctor and nurses reminded you just as he had gotten out that he may still be a little, well loopy, off of the meds depending on how quickly he woke up. you waited in a chair at his bedside, reading a book when you heard the blankets of the bed rustling just a little.

looking up from your book you see simon starting to wake up and you reach out to grasp his hand, only for him to rip it away from you when his eyes were fully opened.

"uh, si? you okay, hon?" you ask gently, maybe he just wasn't feeling too well after waking up, or perhaps he wasn't wanting physical touch, that happened quite often and you always respected that space he may want when he wanted it.

"don't call me that." simon said, voice hoarse and scratchy from the surgery, he sounded a little angry.

"what?" you questioned, this wasn't like simon, you couldn't understand why he wouldn't want you speaking like this to him.

"i'm taken."

"i know." you replied with a short laugh.

"you should be touching me like that then."

it hit you then, he was woozy from the meds and didn't recognize you. the realization made you laugh a little more. you decided to have a bit of fun with this high version of your boyfriend.

"sorry about that simon. wanna tell me about your partner?"

"oh, (name)? they're amazing, you know they're so pretty. and they're funny too. they always know how to make me feel better, i miss them." simon replies, ranting and raving on and on to you about his partner, about you.

"you love them a lot, don't you?" you ask him with a smile, it felt so nice to hear all these lovely things about yourself, your boyfriend clearly unfiltered by the effects of the anesthesia he was under.

sure he definitely said sweet things to your face, but something about hearing it when he was basically high as shit made your heart pound a little more.

"i love them with my whole heart." simon replies, a goofy little smile on his face.

you can't help but reach out to gently caress his face at those words, body filling up with some much adoration for the soldier in front of you.

"hey! what did i say about touching me. i have a partner!" simon scolds, trying to dodge your touch.

"simon, love... i am your partner. it's me, (name)." you reply with a laugh.

simon takes a good long look at you when you tell him this, he stares at you, looks you up and down before letting out a soft and quiet "oh."

you begin to hear the beeping of his heart rate monitor speed up, his cheeks turning slightly pink as he stares up at you.

you couldn't help but laugh a little more at this. what a sweet idiot. your sweet idiot.

[gf2bellamy]

tipsy — spencer reid

pairing: spencer reid x fem!reader ( no use of y/n ) summary: you're drunk and talking. a lot. content warnings: reader is drunk, mention of a guy hitting on reader a/n: my crush on spencer is getting out of control

The bar was buzzing with music and conversation, the air thick with the scent of liquor and warm bodies pressed too close together. It was loud, chaotic—everything Spencer didn’t particularly enjoy—but he stayed because the team was celebrating.

And because you were here. 

He sat alone in a corner booth, quietly drinking a soda, watching as his teammates enjoyed the night. Morgan was on the dance floor, Emily and Garcia were deep in conversation with a group of strangers, and JJ had already called it an early night. 

Then, out of nowhere, you slid into the booth beside him. 

You practically collapsed into the seat as you scooted closer—closer than you probably realized. 

“Hi, Spencer,” you mumbled, voice heavy with alcohol, but there was something else there too—a hint of frustration. 

Spencer looked over at you, his heart stuttering in his chest before he forced himself to smile softly. “Hey,” he greeted, his voice gentle. But the way you frowned made his stomach twist. 

“Are you okay?” he asked, concern slipping into his tone. 

You let out a dramatic sigh, your lips pouting just slightly. “No. Pen took away my drink,” you grumbled, sounding genuinely betrayed. 

Spencer huffed out a quiet laugh, though his amusement quickly faded when you scooted even closer, your head suddenly resting against his shoulder. 

His entire body locked up. 

Oh. 

You were close. 

Too close. 

He could feel the warmth of your skin, the soft tickle of your hair brushing against his arm. His heart slammed against his ribs. 

This wasn’t fair. 

Spencer had spent months—maybe even longer—trying to bury his feelings for you. Trying to convince himself that you were just his friend, just his colleague, that what he felt wasn’t real, that he was reading too much into your smiles and lingering touches. 

But now? With you leaning into him like this, drunk and soft and so unbelievably perfect? 

Yeah. He was absolutely screwed. 

Before he could even attempt to gather his thoughts, you mumbled something against his shoulder, voice muffled but heavy with exhaustion. 

“Some guy wouldn’t leave me alone back there.” 

Spencer stiffened. 

His hand twitched against his thigh, resisting the urge to reach for you. “What?” 

Your eyes were fluttering closed now, your breathing slowing. “Some guy,” you repeated, voice hazy. “He kept talking, wouldn’t take a hint.” 

Spencer felt something sharp curl in his chest. 

He swallowed hard, his fingers curling into fists beneath the table. “Are you alright?” His voice was tight with concern now. 

“Mhm,” you hummed, nuzzling your face just a little deeper into his shoulder. “I’m okay now.” 

His breath caught. 

You felt safe with him. 

That realization hit him harder than it should have. 

Spencer barely had time to process it before your voice came again, soft and hazy with sleepiness. 

“I told him I liked someone,” you mumbled, your words slightly slurred. 

Spencer froze. 

His mind stalled for a second before rebooting at double speed. You liked someone? 

His throat suddenly felt dry. 

“You did?” he asked carefully. Then, before he could stop himself, he added, a little more hesitant this time, “…You do?” 

It was almost painful how hopeful he sounded. There was no way you were talking about him. 

No way. 

You nodded, eyes barely open, leaning into him even more. “Mhm,” you hummed, voice low. 

Spencer swallowed hard, trying to ignore the way his heart was pounding against his ribs. 

“Yeah, I told him…” You shifted slightly, and Spencer instinctively steadied you with a hand on your waist, brushing your hair gently out of your face. 

“…I told him that the guy I liked was so much smarter than him,” you continued, your lips curling slightly in amusement. 

Spencer's breath caught in his throat. 

He stared at you, heart racing, every fiber of his being begging him to not read too much into that. 

But then— 

“And taller,” you added with a drunken, sleepy smile, your cheek pressing against his shoulder like it belonged there. 

Spencer let out a breath he didn’t realize he was holding, his lips parting slightly in shock. 

Your fingers curled loosely around his hand, and Spencer swore his entire body short-circuited. 

“You’re warm,” you murmured, lazily tracing the lines of his fingers, running your fingertips over each one like you were memorizing them. 

Spencer watched you, completely and utterly mesmerized. 

He could hardly breathe. 

You were so close, so soft, so effortlessly intoxicating—and you had no idea what you were doing to him. 

And then, suddenly— 

You let go of his hand like it had burned you. 

“Oh no,” you gasped dramatically, blinking up at him with wide, drunken eyes. “I’m sorry, I forgot���hand-holding involves too many germs!”

Spencer huffed out a laugh, shaking his head. Before he could even think about what he was doing, he reached forward and gently took your hand back into his.

“I don’t mind,” he mumbled, his voice softer than he intended.

Your fingers twitched slightly in his grasp before relaxing, a slow, sleepy smile spreading across your lips. Your head was still resting against his shoulder, warm and so unbelievably close, as you started tracing his fingers again.

Spencer swallowed, watching you in quiet fascination—the way your fingertips glided gently over the ridges of his knuckles, the absent-minded way you focused on memorizing the shape of his hand.

Then, out of nowhere, you mumbled, “I also told the guy that you’re so much nicer than him.”

Spencer froze.

His breath hitched in his throat.

Had he just heard that right?

His brain struggled to process the words, replaying them over and over again in an attempt to make sure he wasn’t imagining things.

“I—” He blinked rapidly, his heart thudding in his chest. He didn’t know what to say, didn’t know how to react, but he couldn’t help the way warmth flooded through his body at your words.

So he settled for something simple.

“You did?”

You nodded against his shoulder, your eyelashes fluttering delicately against your cheek.

Then, slowly, you lifted your head, pulling away from him completely.

And Spencer missed you instantly.

But before he could mourn the loss of your warmth, you turned to face him.

And suddenly—his entire world stopped.

Because you were staring at him.

Really staring.

Your eyes, soft and unfocused, locked onto his, studying him with open admiration, with a look he had only ever dreamed about.

And then—

“Yeah,” you mumbled, your lips curling into a small, drunken smile. “You’re also so much more handsome.”

Spencer’s brain completely short-circuited.

His lips parted, but nothing came out.

You had to be joking.

There was no way you actually meant that.

Right?

Right?

But you weren’t laughing. You weren’t teasing. You were just looking at him.

Like he was something special.

Like you actually meant it.

Spencer’s throat felt tight, his pulse pounding violently in his ears. He tried to breathe, tried to tell himself this was just drunk talk, but then—

You reached out.

Your hand lifted slowly, hesitantly, like you were testing some kind of unspoken boundary.

And then—your fingers brushed against his cheek.

Light. Soft. Barely there.

Spencer’s entire body went rigid.

He couldn’t move—couldn’t even think—as you traced your fingertips gently along the sharp angle of his jaw, your thumb grazing his cheekbone with a featherlight touch.

His skin burned beneath your fingers.

And you?

You just smiled, completely oblivious to the way you were shattering him.

“Yeah…” you whispered. “So much more handsome.”

Spencer swallowed hard, his mind a complete mess of emotions.

Because you were drunk.

And he was sober.

And this?

This wasn’t fair.

But God…

He had never wanted to kiss someone so badly in his entire life.

[chaussetteblanche]

and they were roommates pt. 4

pairing : Spencer Reid x fem!student!roommate!reader summary : 2.3k word count : your experience with the unsub warning : canon-typical violence (it gets a bit gory, torture-ish, implied sexual violence), swear words > read at your own risk, you are responsible for the media you consume A/N : thank you all for the support and love on this omggg <333 Emily's a tiny bit of a bitch in this one, whoopsie. y/n cries the whole time, I figured that was what I would do. would you guys like a part 5, maybe Spencer taking care of y/n after such a traumatic experience? some comfort after hurt?

part 1, part 2, part 3

The first thing you noticed when you came to your senses was the throbbing in the back of your head. Your first reflex was to bring your hand up to where you were sure to find blood, but you couldn’t move either of your arms. Opening your eyes wearily, you noticed that your wrists were restrained, binding you to an old wooden chair.  “What the-“ Your heart rate picked up as the memory of being hit over the head came back to you. Frantically looking around, your breathing started getting short and ragged when you realised your surrounding were wholly unfamiliar to you. You jerked your wrists to the sides, hoping that maybe the tight ropes would untie themselves. 

“Don’t tire yourself out,” an icy voice drawled from a dark corner. You could barely hear over the sound of the blood rushing in your ears. You cursed yourself when he stepped out of the shadows, greasy locks pushed behind his ears. You should have told Spencer. You should have known.

His face was barely visible in the dim light. The smell of dust and mold which clung to the room suited him well. His gaze on you made you feel dirty and you hated it. You examined the enclosed space you were in and realised you were in an abandoned art room on campus. You'd discovered it once with your friends by accident, years ago. Art supplies, canvases and desks were strewn about in a careless manner. You tried not to think too much about the blood dotting the floor in multiple places.

"Why did you bring me here?" you asked, doing your best to remain calm. He was clearly unstable and you didn't want to trigger him if you could help it. “Don't worry about that, just know you’re not getting out of here any time soon, honey.” He smiled, a frightening grimace, and licked his lips. Nausea clouded your senses for a second. Tears gathered on your waterline. “Oh yes, I will.” Your voice shook as you spoke and you hated how weak you sounded. His brows raised and he let slip a little, mocking laugh. It made your skin crawl. A tear slipped down your cheek and, humiliatingly, you couldn't wipe it away. “And why do you think that?” he asked, feigning interest. You scowled at him. “The FBI is going to find you, you sick fuck. If they couldn't before this, they definitely will now." 

Your head whipped to the side as he slapped you across the face. He bent down, placing his face mere centimetres from yours. Another tear fell from your eye as you felt your cheek sting and then get uncomfortably warm. “You stupid bitch,” he snarled. “You better watch your tone. You actually think they’ll find you? That's cute." You swallowed, opting to stay silent.

Spencer knew something had happened as soon as Hotch stepped into the room. Over the years, he'd learned how his boss functioned and how to separate all the micro-expressions he used before assembling them back together and interpreting them. Today, he could tell something was seriously wrong.

He hadn't even thought of you at first. In his mind, you were safe. The unsub had been arrested and proof was being searched for. The guy fit the profile and the profile never lied. So why did Hotch ask him to sit down?

"W- what?" "I think you may want to sit down for this." Spencer was getting agitated, he didn't like being kept out of the information loop. "Hotch, just tell us what's going on," pressed Morgan, brows drawn together. "You know how we asked all the professors to contact us immediately if anyone fitting the victimology didn't show up for class?" "Yeah," Emily nodded, urging Hotch on. "We got a call." The Unit Chief's eyes fell on Spencer and the latter knew what he was going to say before the words were uttered. "Spencer, Y/N's professor said she didn't show up to class this morning."

"O-okay, wait, that doesn't mean anything, we arrested a guy, she could just not be feeling well," Emily spoke hastily, concerned about the look on Spencer's face. "No, we must have the wrong-" Spencer was interrupted by Morgan: "Wait a second, the profile says-" "I don't care what the profile says, Morgan! Y/N's first class today is Germanic Ethos and Christian Faith in Medieval Literature, that's her favourite class, she's never missed it in the entire semester! And she was feeling well this morning, we had breakfast together and she would have told me if not! Clearly, we have the wrong guy!"

Silence reigned for a short moment after Spence's outburst. The entire team was left speechless by his behaviour, which was entirely unprecedented. Spencer ran a hand through his hair, letting out a small sigh. "I- Can you try calling her at least? Before we jump to any conclusions." Emily crossed her arms over her chest. Spencer sent her a dark look before whipping out his phone and pressing on the first name in his contact list. He put it on speaker and let it ring.

"No, no, please," you sobbed, "no more! Please! No, stop!"

Your voice was raw from screaming. Judging by the three shallow cuts he left on your right shoulder, the unsub enjoyed seeing your blood pearl and run down your skin. He also revelled in watching you writhe and scream in pain. "What did I tell you? Shut the fu-" He raised his hand in the air and you flinched away by reflex only to find the blow never came. You held your breath.

"I'm breaking dishes up in here all night, uh uh! I ain't gon' stop until I see police and lights, uh uh! I'm a fight a man tonight, I'm a fight a man-"

Oh, the irony. You didn't know whether to bless or curse Rihanna. "What the fuck is this?!" he roared, swivelling sharply on his feet to press the blade of his bloody knife into your cheek. You whimpered quietly. You couldn't help but think of all the infections you would be vulnerable to because of his dirty and rusted weapon. How could someone have so little care for basic hygiene? "It's- It's my ringtone! It's just my ringtone!"

"A man, a man, a ma-a-a-an! A man, a man, a ma-a-a-an!"

"You little bitch," he hissed, quickly untying your hands and grabbing your throat. He lifted you up by the neck and slammed you into the nearest wall, yelling about what a deceiving, conniving whore you were. You cried out in pain, desperately pulling at his hand which was wound tight around your throat. "You think your little friends are going to come and get you?!" he mocked, smushing your cheeks with his other hand. "Tough luck, doll, you're all alone and you're going to-" "Wait!" you spluttered, "Wait!" Your vision had begun going blurry but your mind remained intact. "If- If I don't answer, they'll know something's wrong! And then they'll send everyone out looking for me, for you!"

His grip on your throat lessened and you coughed, forcing air back into your lungs. Your eyes burned with tears. "What does it matter to you?" "Look- I- It doesn't matter, my ringtone is about to stop! And they'll come for sure!" Making a split-second decision, he stomped over to where he'd thrown your bag and sweater carelessly on the ground. You slid down onto the floor, wiping at your eyes. Hastily ruffling through your bag, he pulled your phone out after a second. You lamented all the flyaway papers you'd annotated with bright and lively colours now most likely stained with grime and blood. The unsub answered the call and roughly pressed the phone against your ear. You winced.

"O-Oh, Y/N! It's Spencer, are you alright?!" Big, fat tears rolled down your cheeks at the comforting sound of Spencer's voice. You wanted nothing more than to be near him, away from this living hell. If anyone could understand a message and find you, Spencer could. You were painfully aware of the little time you had left before the unsub got on with his routine and got rid of you. You cleared your throat, wanting to appear natural. "Hey! Yeah, I'm- I'm fine, I'm heading for my Wax Tablet Workshop, we are going to look at how writing on wax is art which has been abandoned by scholars, like universities." "O- Okay, sweets, I'll come get you after class okay? We can go for a coffee together!" "Sounds great, Spence!"

The unsub threw your phone onto the ground next to you and crushed it with his foot. You let your tears fall freely. Spencer had understood. He was coming.

"That was a hidden message, she doesn't have a Wax Tablet Workshop. It's not even a course the university offers." Spencer's brain was working even faster than usual. The BAU team had never seen him like this before. "Garcia, look for all abandoned locations on university campus. Maybe a classroom?" he urged.

The sound of a keyboard typing incredibly fast was heard on the speaker. "I've got one." Penelope's voice was urgent and contained no trace of its usual lightness. "There's an abandoned art studio on the East side of the campus. I'm sending you the address now."

"Let's go," ordered Hotch.

You'd never wear shorts again. Exhausted, beaten, bruised and tied to a chair, you didn't have the energy to do anything more than move your knee when he trailed his finger along it. You were starting to lose hope. There was no clock in sight, but you could guess your time would soon be up. Some part of you wanted to give up. You knew if Spencer were here, he'd tell you to keep fighting, to keep hoping. But you were tired, so, so tired.

You suspected you had a concussion from when he'd knocked out and when he'd slammed you into the wall. Your vision was blurry. Although, maybe that was due to the tears. They hadn't stopped coming since he'd first slapped you. But when his cold hand found your thigh and squeezed it roughly, the kindling fire in you regained strength. No. You would rather die than suffer whatever else he had planned for you. As he started moving his repulsive mouth towards you, you jerked your knee upwards, hard, right into his groin. He roared in pain and doubled over, stumbling backwards.

"Stay the fuck back!" you screamed hysterically. "Don't you dare fucking touch me, you psycho!" He met your eyes with a frenzied look you'd never seen before and pounced on you. The chair you were sitting on shattered with a loud noise and you screamed, finding yourself lying on top of splintery wood pieces. As he brought his arm upwards, knife facing downwards, towards you, you closed your eyes. You didn't want him to be the last thing you saw. You thought of all the good things in your life, your family, Spencer, Geoffrey, Spencer, your friends, Spencer,...

"Put it down!!!" bellowed a familiar voice. "Put it down now!" You opened your eyes. The door behind you had been broken down. FBI agents flooded the room, all aiming their guns at the man on top of you. His eyes darted frantically between Agent Morgan, whose voice you'd recognised, and two other agents you couldn't see.

"I want a deal!" the unsub cried out, "I want a deal!" "No deal," a deeper, more authoritative voice spoke. The unsub raised his arm again, preparing to strike. You closed your eyes.

BAM!

To this day, you didn't think the unsub expected to be shot. You figured he was expecting to be imprisoned. You didn't see the look on his face when he was shot, only felt the dead weight of his body falling on top of you.

Shrieking hysterically, you struggled frantically to move his corpse off you. Someone shoved him off you, promising you in a soothing voice that you were safe.

"Spencer." His name had never been spoke like that before. It was a haunting sob, a cry for help. He was at your side immediately, ridding you of the ropes around your wrists and pulling you away from the broken chair.

It was only when he called your name a third time that you finally found your grasp on reality again. Spencer pulled you into his arms, being careful not to squeeze you too tight. You wrapped your arms around him, burying your face in his shoulder. The comforting smell of him, of home, engulfed and grounded you. "It's okay," he cooed softly, lips brushing your ear, "you're safe now, he can't hurt you anymore." "Call an ambulance," you heard someone order in the distance. Sobbing hard into Spencer's shoulder, you pulled him impossibly closer to you. "I'm so sorry," you bawled, "I had seen him before on c- campus, like- like your boss said but I didn't want to tell you! I thought he was an- an exchange student!" Spencer shushed you, hands still shaking from taking the shot he took with no hesitation. This would be one of the kills he wouldn’t loose any sleep over. "You have nothing to be sorry for, sweetheart, you did everything right, I promise you."

"I- I didn't do what you always say," you hiccuped sadly, mouth moving against the material of his sweater vest, staining it with blood and tears. It was an article of clothing which would be ruined for both of you. Spencer would give it to charity a week later, you wouldn't miss it. "I didn't play into his fantasy, I kept telling him you were going to find me, and he was so angry!" "Baby." This was the first he'd called you that. It stopped you in your tracks. "Listen to me, you did everything right. You may not still be alive if you'd played into his fantasy. You were perfect, I promise. Just breathe, now, alright? You’re okay." "Are- are you sure?" "Yes, baby, I'm sure."

Taglist : (thank you for the support my loves <3) @princess-ofthe-pages @usuck @theylovemelody @empressgraytea @xx-spooky-little-vampire-xx @lillianacristina @venomsvl @user-3113s-blog @pumpkin-cake @redros3y @faunrasthewinterelf @puppykinsthepotato @bookishnerd1132 @bonza-bear @teeshamcbeesha @hades-disappointment-child @princesssparkle2024 @darlingcharling-blog @yasmin12312 @khxna @jamieeboulos @addyyodaddy @lunavelha @scottybitch @rivwritesiguess @lunagalaa @solacestyles @mgg55lovr @salty-sister @angrygalaxyduck @kayybay @arusio @ill-be-okay-soon-enough @perfectmilkshakeruins @pleasantwitchgarden @slutforwordsfr @chicaconfundidaycuriosa @bippityboppityboob1tch @navs-bhat @amethyst0532 @theamuz @gretaandthatsit @digitalhearts

[hanniewho]

⋆˚࿔ You mean it? When you said you love me?𝜗𝜚˚⋆

⋆˚࿔ Summary: Vi is your roommate, and you guys occasionally have sex to release stress, but you guys are not in a romantic relationship. During one of your stress relief sessions, you blurt out what you really feel about her.

𐙚˙✧˖° Words: 2.3k

༘ ⋆｡ ˚ Warnings: Strap, Fingering, Nipple play and fluff

⋆✦ Pairings: Modern Au Vi x Afab reader, and Powder

"Oh fuck, yes, right there," you gasped, your back arching off the bed as the rhythmic thrusts of the strap-on filled you completely. Your eyes clenched shut, a pattern of pleasure resonating through your body.

Vi's breath grew heavy with exertion, her muscles flexing with every pump. She had found your favorite spot and hit it with precision, making you squirm beneath her. The mattress squeaked in protest, a steady beat accompanying the wet sounds of skin slapping against skin. Your legs were wrapped tightly around her waist, nails digging into the firm flesh of her back.

You could feel the heat emanating from her body, the sheen of sweat glistening on her skin under the dim lamp light. Her eyes, a piercing blue, bore into yours, the intensity of her gaze almost too much to handle. The way she moved was like a dance, every motion calculated to push you closer to the edge. And you were so, so close.

Her grip on your hips tightened as she increased the pace, the strap-on sliding in and out of you with a smoothness that made your toes curl. Each time she bottomed out, you felt the head of the toy nudge against your g-spot, sending a jolt of electricity up your spine. You moaned, a needy sound that seemed to spur her on.

The room was thick with the scent of sex, a potent mix of your arousal and the faint smell of leather from the strap-on. Your chest heaved, your breasts bouncing with every thrust, the tips sensitive to the air that kissed them as your shirt had been discarded earlier. Vi's eyes flickered down to them, a wicked smile playing on her lips as she reached between you to tease your clit, her thumb circling the sensitive bud in a way that had you biting your lower lip to stifle a scream.

But as you felt yourself hurtling towards that sweet release, something slipped out of your mouth, raw and unfiltered, "I love you," you chanted, your voice hoarse with passion. The words hung in the air, a sudden stillness descending upon the room. Vi's movements ceased, her eyes wide with shock, the strap-on still buried deep within you.

"What did you just say?" she whispered, her breath hot against your neck. You felt a jolt of panic, realizing what had just slipped out. You didn't mean to say it, not like this, not in the throes of passion. But the truth was there, laid bare, and you couldn't take it back.

"I..." you stuttered, your heart racing as you searched for the right words. But before you could say anything else, Vi leaned in closer, her teeth grazing the sensitive skin of your ear. "Say it again," she demanded, her voice low and gruff, sending a shiver down your spine.

You took a shaky breath, feeling the weight of your confession hanging heavily in the air. "I love you," you repeated, the words now a declaration rather than a slip. The room remained still, the only sound the heavy thump of your heartbeat echoing in your ears.

Vi pulled back slightly, her gaze searching yours, as if trying to gauge the depth of your feelings. "You do?" she asked, her voice a mix of disbelief and hope. The strap-on remained lodged inside you, the sudden pause in movement creating a delicious ache that you craved to be sated once more.

"I do," you affirmed, the words feeling surprisingly right as they left your lips. You reached up, your hand trembling slightly, to cup her cheek. Her skin was warm and slick with sweat, but the touch grounded you, making the moment feel more real than any fantasy you could have conjured.

Vi searched your eyes for a long moment, her own emotions a stormy sea of doubt and hope. Then, with a growl that seemed to come from the very depths of her soul, she crashed her mouth against yours. The kiss was desperate, hungry, a declaration of all the things she hadn't dared to voice herself. Her tongue danced with yours, tasting the truth of your words, and the connection between you grew stronger with every passing second.

Her hips began to move again, the strap-on sliding in and out of you with renewed vigor. You moaned into her mouth, the sudden burst of passion making your body respond in kind. You could feel your orgasm building again, the tension coiling tighter with every stroke. Your nails raked down her back, leaving red lines in their wake, and she groaned in pleasure at the sensation.

Breaking the kiss, Vi whispered against your skin, "Fuck, I love you too," her voice a fervent murmur that sent your heart soaring. She leaned back, her eyes never leaving yours, and began to thrust in earnest, the intensity of her feelings fueling her movements. The room was a cocoon of sensation, the only reality the feel of her inside you and the sound of your mingled breaths.

Your orgasm washed over you, a tsunami of pleasure that left you trembling and gasping for air. You clung to her, your legs tightening around her waist as your body convulsed around the strap-on. Vi watched you with a fierce, possessive gaze, her eyes gleaming with satisfaction as she felt your climax ripple through you.

As the waves of pleasure began to subside, she gently eased the toy out of you, replacing it with her fingers. They slid in with ease, coated in your juices and the evidence of your passion. She curled them in a come-hither motion, stroking that spot deep inside that only she knew how to find. You whimpered, your eyes still closed, lost in the aftershocks of ecstasy.

Vi's touch grew slower, more tender, as she felt your muscles relax. She kissed down your neck, leaving a trail of gentle pecks that sent delightful shivers through your body. You felt a soft smile play on your lips as her hand moved to cup one of your breasts, her thumb brushing over the sensitive peak, eliciting a sigh from you.

"Vi," you murmured, your voice still laced with desire. She paused, looking up at you, her eyes searching for any signs of regret or uncertainty. But all she saw was the same love and passion mirrored in your gaze.

"I mean it," you assured her, your voice stronger now. "I've felt this way for a while, I just didn't know how to tell you."

Vi's eyes searched yours, the vulnerability in her expression making her seem almost unrecognizable from the fierce woman you knew so well. "Why?" she managed to ask, her voice cracking with emotion.

"Because you're... everything," you whispered, your voice trembling with the weight of your words. You reached up to trace the contours of her face, feeling the roughness of her cheek and the softness of her lips. "You're my best friend, my roommate, and now...my lover."

Vi's expression softened, the tension in her body dissipating as she took in your words. She leaned in to kiss you again, this time with a tenderness that made your heart flutter. "I didn't know," she murmured, her thumb continuing to make lazy circles around your areola. "I never thought..."

You reached up to stroke her hair, the strands sticking to your damp palm. "It's okay," you assured her, feeling a warmth spread through your chest. "I didn't either, not at first."

Vi's eyes searched yours, her own feelings a tumultuous storm of emotions. "But now?" she prompted, her voice hopeful.

You nodded, your eyes never leaving hers. "Now, I know for sure. And I want this, with you, Vi." You felt your heart swell as you confessed your feelings, the words feeling like a weight lifted from your chest.

Her eyes searched yours, a mix of disbelief and elation. "Fuck, I want this too," she breathed, the words coming out in a rush as if she had been holding them back for an eternity. She leaned in, her lips capturing yours in a passionate kiss that sent your pulse racing once again. Her tongue danced with yours, her hands roaming your body with a newfound tenderness.

The room was a blur of sensations: the feel of her soft, plush lips against yours, the gentle scrape of her calloused hands as they caressed your skin, and the wetness of your sex, still pulsing from your recent climax. Vi's fingers slid into you again, the intimacy of the act now colored with the depth of your newfound love. She whispered sweet nothings into your ear, her breath hot and ragged, making you shiver with desire.

And then, she leaned in too deep, her hips jolting forward slightly. A gasp escaped your throat as the strap-on went deeper than you were ready for, the suddenness of it making you squirm in discomfort. Vi's eyes widened with alarm, and she immediately pulled back, her expression a mix of concern and fear. "Oh shit, I'm sorry," she murmured, her thumb brushing against your clit to soothe the sting.

Her apology hung in the air as she gently removed the strap-on, her movements careful and tender. You felt the coldness of the room in contrast to the warmth of your bodies. Vi's eyes searched yours, seeking reassurance that she hadn't gone too far, that she hadn't hurt you. You offered her a small smile, your hand reaching down to squeeze hers, letting her know that it was okay, that you were okay.

The silence was comforting, filled with the unspoken words of love and the unanswered questions of what lay ahead. You watched as she unbuckled the harness, her hands trembling slightly with the weight of the moment. The strap-on fell to the side, forgotten in the tangle of sheets, a silent testament to the passion that had just transpired.

Vi's gaze remained locked on yours as she slid the toy from your body, her eyes filled with a warmth that made your cheeks flush. The sudden emptiness made you ache, but the love in her gaze soothed the void. She took a deep breath, her eyes never leaving yours, and whispered, "I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to hurt you."

You reached up to cup her cheek, feeling the stubble against your palm. "You didn't, Vi," you assured her, your voice hoarse from your earlier cries. "It was just a surprise." Your eyes searched hers, a silent promise of understanding passing between you. She leaned in, her forehead resting against yours, her breath warm against your skin.

"I've never felt like this before," she confessed, her voice barely a whisper. "With anyone."

Your heart swelled with love and gratitude. You knew Vi had been hurt in the past, her trust not easily given. The fact that she was sharing this moment with you, opening herself up so completely, was a gift beyond measure. "Me neither," you murmured, your voice thick with emotion.

Vi pulled away slightly, her eyes searching yours. "But you're okay?" she asked, her voice laced with concern. You nodded, smiling softly. "More than okay," you assured her.

With a relieved sigh, she leaned in to kiss you again, this time with a tenderness that made your heart ache. Her hands roamed your body, exploring every curve and valley with a newfound reverence. The kiss deepened, and you felt your body responding despite the intensity of your earlier climax.

Your hands found their way to her shoulders, pulling her closer, feeling the heat of her bare skin against yours. Her touch was like a drug, intoxicating and addictive, leaving you craving more. The room was still, the only sound the ragged breaths escaping your lips.

Powder sat cross-legged on her bed, her thumb gliding across the screen of her phone. The soft glow of the device cast shadows on her cheekbones as she scrolled through the endless feed of Instagram, her eyes flicking from post to post, looking for something to capture her interest. It had been a long, mundane day at work, and she craved the escape that social media so often provided. Her eyes widened as she stumbled upon a picture that was anything but mundane.

The mirror selfie showed you both, arms wrapped around each other's waists, smiles wide and genuine. Your cheeks were flushed with happiness, and the way your eyes sparkled when they met hers in the reflection. The caption beneath the image was simple, yet it spoke volumes: "I have won." It was a declaration of victory, a silent shout to the world that you were together, and it was all she could do to keep her own smile from breaking into a grin.

Her thumb hovered over the screen, the urge to leave a snarky comment growing stronger. Without a second thought, she tapped out the words "she's being held hostage," her heart racing with a mix of excitement and anticipation. It was a playful jab, one she knew would get under Vi's skin in the best possible way. The moment she hit 'post', she couldn't help but chuckle at her own audacity. She knew Vi would see it as nothing more than a challenge, a declaration of war in the never-ending battle of wits that had become a staple of their siblings relationship.

The response was almost immediate. Vi's face appeared on the screen, a scowl etched onto her features. "Oh, it's on," she growled playfully, the corners of her mouth twitching with amusement. The video call was poorly timed; Vi was in the middle of a raid in her favorite online game, surrounded by the chaotic sounds of battle. Despite this, she took a moment to lean closer to the camera, her eyes narrowing as she pointed a finger at Powder. "You're going to regret that, little sis," she teased, the sound of her voice muffled by the headset.

[daisymbin]

for lovers who hesitate - choi seungcheol

warnings: cheating ex, mentions of pregnancy (not reader), shotgun marriage (not reader), some curse words, mentions of blood (seungcheol in a fight), some angst (mostly on seungcheol's part, some of reader's towards the end) + this is a long fic so I'm sure I missed out stuff, my apologies. please let me know what I missed out so I can add them in!

pairings: choi seungcheol x reader

genre: fake dating, resurface of old feelings (reader) & a down bad choi seungcheol

wc: 13k (not sure what happened i was aiming 3500-5000 but oh well.)

a/n: 13k words...my longest fic on here yet..... this took quite awhile, even proofreading was a challenge, so I hope you guys enjoyed this one! but fr, I early respect and admire authors who always belt out 30k word fics, it's really not easy i don't even wanna think about it. it's one thing to get a long fic done and another to proofreading it all oof. ... and no writer really only proofreads it once

check out my masterlist! // cheol's m.list

“you've got mail~” seokmin sings down the hallway of your shared apartment, “it looks like a wedding invite…” his voice trails off, “are any of our friends getting married? why didn't I receive one?”

seokmin's question was reasonable, you did both have the same friend group, you grew up together, having tons and tons of mutual friends, you went almost everywhere together. he's like the brother you never had. but now he's got your interest piqued as well. who could it be?

on your hand sits a wedding invitation, beautifully adorned with gold accents, pink flowers litter the edges of the invite, a bright pop of colour in contrast to the plain white.

seokmin snatches the invite out of your hand, opening the invite as he reads, “you are cordially invited to celebrate the joy of han- what the fuck? is this a joke?” seokmin shuts the invite close and crumples it, “what the hell does that guy want?”

“han minjun?” you asked as curiosity plagues your mind. seokmin’s reaction only amplifies your own confusion, and you reach out to grab the crumpled invitation from his hands, smoothing it out with trembling fingers. his name stares back at you, a name you had once thought you’d never have to see or hear again. but here it is, boldly printed, like a ghost from the past come to haunt you.

“han minjun…” you murmur, your voice quieter now, filled with a mixture of disbelief and absurdity. the memories come rushing back like a tidal wave, each one hitting you harder than the last. you remember the good days first, the laughter, the late-night talks, the way he made you feel like you were the only person in the world. but those sweet memories are soon overshadowed by the darker ones, the ones you had worked so hard to forget.

you remember the way he’d become distant, how the warmth in his eyes had faded, and the excuses he’d given whenever you asked what was wrong. you remember the pit in your stomach when he’d cancel plans at the last minute, claiming he was swamped with work, even though you could hear the laughter of friends in the background whenever he called.

then there was that one night, the night everything shattered. you had gone to his apartment, unannounced, carrying takeout and hoping to surprise him. the sight that greeted you instead was something you’d never forget. minjun had been in his living room, his hand tugging on another girl’s hair, the other on her waist as they makeout heavily. their light giggles echoing through the walls you thought you knew so well. you’d dropped the food in shock, the containers spilling onto the floor, and the way minjun’s face had paled when he saw you… it was a moment forever etched into your heart.

“its not what it looks like,” he’d said, scrambling for an explanation, but all you felt was betrayal, the heartache, the realization that the person you’d trusted had broken you in a way you never thought possible.

you come back to the present as seokmin's voice pulls you back, “oh i dropped a post it, ‘hope to see you there - kim hanna’ who the hell is kim hanna?” seokmin reaches for the invite again, his eyes scanning the words imprinted on the paper, “kim hanna…isnt she the girl he cheated on you with? that little bi- how dare she send this invi- SHE'S MARRYING HIM?” seokmin's mouth ran faster than body allowed, never finishing his sentence, but you heard and understood every word.

you snatch the invite back. the wedding is in 2 weeks.

are you hurt? no. heartbroken? no. sad? no. upset? just a little bit. angry? oh yes, yes you were. all the anger still simmering beneath the surface as you grip the wedding invite tightly. seokmin watches you with concern, his earlier frustration shifting into worry as he notices the way anger starts to consume you.

“you okay?” he asks gently, placing a hand on your shoulder.

you softened, “yeah i just… i can’t believe he’s getting married after everything he did.”

seokmin’s grip tightens, his protective brother instincts kicking in. “you don’t have to go,” he says firmly. “and if you decide to, you won’t go alone. i’ll be right there with you, you know the boys will be too. whatever you need.”

his words bring a small sense of comfort, but the invitation still feels like a dagger, reopening wounds you thought had finally healed. “oh I'm definitely going,”

“why?”

“just because. & I need a date-”

“I can be your date.”

“no you can't.”

“why not?”

“because i need my date to be my fake boyfriend. i cant show up all single to an ex's wedding & everyone knows we grow up together. we're practically siblings we would never ever date each other! that's disgusting."

seokmin's fake dramatic gasp only leaves your laughing, the anger that once resided is now long forgotten. “how can you say that?” he continues, “don't you watch movies? don't you read books? or even better, fanfiction? that's like a really popular trope and it's popular for a reason! why? because it's real, it happens. what if I'm in love with you and you just don't know it? then what? you could have seriously hurt my feelings!”

“yeah could have, that means I didn't. and don't think I forgot about the time we all played truth or dare and chan dared you to kiss me and you literally threw up from how repulsed you were by me. how could you possibly be in love with me? unless...you puked because you were nervous.." you said as you wiggled your eyebrows disturbingly. “also what hell fanfiction do you read? why didnt i know about that?”

“EW!!!" he screams as he steps away from you, "AS IF YOU COULD EVER MAKE ME NERVOUS!"

“& the fanfiction? what do you read? come on, spill!”

“that's none of your business.”

“seok-”

“beyonce x reader.” it was almost as if he was dying to tell you.

the laugh you burst out only brings relief to seokmin, now he knows you're really okay. you've moved on, just angry at the audacity of them. “please beyonce would never pick you.” you joked as you got up from the sofa. “come on, be serious, this is serious stuff. I need a fake boyfriend.”

“ask seungcheol.” seokmin answers easily without missing a beat, as if the answer was obvious.

“why seungcheol?” you heart raced at the mere idea of seungcheol being your date for the night, let alone boyfriend.

“because…he never says no to you. like ever,” he gives a brief, small smile before he turns to walk away. “oh and also, don't you think he'd fit the role perfectly?”

[—]

but that's what happens when seokmin plants the idea in your head, because you now find yourself in seungcheol's apartment.

you sit in seungcheol’s living room, heart pounding as you try to muster the courage to speak. he’s standing in front of you, arms crossed loosely over his broad chest, looking at you with his usual gentle, patient expression. but somehow, today, that patience makes your nerves worse. you’re not sure why you’re suddenly so embarrassed; maybe it’s the way his dark eyes seem to search your face for any hint of what’s coming.

“so… what did you want to ask me?” he prompts, his voice warm and inviting, though there’s a hint of curiosity lurking beneath it.

you swallow, your palms damp. “you can totally say no if you want to, there’s no pressure at all but um-”

seungcheol’s eyebrows furrow at your hesitation, “you’re making me nervous,” he jokes, though there’s a genuine note of concern in his eyes. “what’s going on?”

you inhale deeply, avoiding his gaze as you force the words out. “so, i got this wedding invite. from…my ex.” you don’t have to elaborate for seungcheol to know which ex you mean. his jaw tightens almost imperceptibly, a flash of something dark passing over his expression before he smooths it out.

“han minjun,” he says, and the way he says the name makes it sound like a curse. his hands uncross, one clenching the back of a chair as he leans into it. “are you… are you okay?”

“yeah,” you say quickly, “i’m okay, really. just…it's in two weeks, and he’s marrying the girl he—” you stop yourself before the floodgate of bad memories start flowing. you look up at seungcheol, feeling your face grow warm. “anyway, that’s not the point. the point is…i need a date.”

seungcheol’s eyes soften, his tension melting away just a bit. “oh,” he says, and a smile tugs at his lips in realization, “you want me to be your date?”

“yes. i mean-” you fidget with the hem of your shirt. “only if you’re okay with it. you don’t have to-”

“of course,” he interrupts, his answer immediate, his voice firm. “if it’s for that, there’s no way i’d say no.” his protective instincts flare up at the mere thought of you facing your ex alone, and he wants to be there for you, to shield you from any pain that might resurface.

you feel relief wash over you, but then the real request lodges itself in your throat. you take a deep breath. “but… not just as a date,” you say quietly. “i need… i need a fake boyfriend. i can’t just show up to his wedding…single.”

seungcheol blinks, and for a moment, he thinks you’re joking. you watch as his expression shifts, surprise giving way to something more complicated. his smile falters, and his eyes search yours for any hint of hesitation, or a joke even. any indication that you might realize what this could mean for him.

a fake boyfriend. the words echo in his mind, and his heart aches, even as he tries to keep his face neutral. he’s spent the past 3 years hiding his feelings, protecting your friendship, waiting for a moment that never seemed to come. and now, here you are, asking him to pretend.

“a fake boyfriend,” he repeats, and his voice is steady, but there’s a hint of something broken underneath. he can’t help but imagine what it’ll be like to hold your hand, to smile at you, to pretend to be the one who gets to loves you openly…only to have it all stripped away when the charade is over. he knows he’s setting himself up for heartbreak, but how can he say no to you? how could he ever refuse you when you look at him like that?

“cheol?” you ask hesitantly, noticing his pause. “is that… is that too much to ask? i’m sorry, it’s just-”

he shakes his head quickly, forcing a smile that doesn’t quite reach his eyes. “no, it’s not too much,” he says softly. “if that’s what you need, then… i’ll do it.”

“really?” your eyes light up with hope, and he wishes he could bottle up the way you look at him, keep it forever.

“really,” he confirms, even though his heart is already starting to fracture. he pushes down the longing, the desperate yearning to be more than just a fake. because he knows this is all he’ll get—a bittersweet taste of something he can’t truly have. but for now, he’ll take what he can get. even if it means breaking his own heart for the chance to be close to you.

[—]

“rules. we need rules. oh and boundaries. just to be safe, you know? not make it weird.” you informed as you pick up a piece of blank paper & pen from your desk before jumping onto bed.

seungcheol lies on his stomach on your bed as he waits for you, “what kind of rules and boundaries do you have in mind?” he asks.

“well for one, no falling in love. like, we both have to promise that this stays strictly pretend. we can’t let it mess with our friendship.”

for a moment, silence fills the room. when you glance at seungcheol, his expression is unreadable. “no falling in love,” he repeats quietly, his voice almost too steady. you don’t notice the way his jaw tightens, the way he clenches his fist against the sheets.

you give him a nervous smile. “exactly. we both need to agree to that.”

“right,” he says, his voice softer now. “no falling in love.” he repeats louder this time, his heart aches at the irony, because if only you knew how deeply he’s already fallen. but he forces himself to nod, to play along, to act like he isn’t breaking the very first rule you laid out just by being here. “any other rules?”

“um, yeah,” you continue, scribbling your next point onto the paper. “okay,” you say, oblivious to the turmoil in his chest. “it has to be believable. like, no half-assing it. if we’re going to do this, we have to commit. but, uh, within reason, of course.”

seungcheol chuckles at that, the sound breaking through the tension. “within reason?” he echoes, his smile genuine this time.

“yeah, nothing too….much,”

“& what exactly is too much?”

“kisses,” you answer without missing a beat.

seungcheol smiles, "so, i can’t kiss you, even if it’s just for an act?"

you pause, thinking over his question. the way he says it, so casual yet so heavy, sends a shiver down your spine. “i mean… kisses are too intimate. that crosses the line.” you say, hoping your voice doesn’t betray how nervous the thought of kissing him makes you.

seungcheol watches you closely, a faint smile tugging at his lips. “too intimate?” he repeats, almost teasingly, but there’s something more in his eyes, something you can’t quite place. “but aren’t we supposed to look like we’re really together? won’t people think it’s suspicious if we… don’t at least pretend that we’re comfortable with that?”

“no one’s expecting a porno of us making out,” you argue, your cheeks warming at the implication. what a poor choice of words. “hand-holding, hugs, maybe a forehead or a cheek kiss if we’re feeling bold. but anything beyond that…” you trail off, your mind spinning and butterflies threatening to invade your tummy at the thought of seungcheol’s lips anywhere near yours.

he hums thoughtfully, propping his chin on his hand. “so, kisses are off the table. got it,” he says, though there’s a hint of disappointment in his voice that you dont pick up. “any other rules?”

“that's all i can think of for now, what about you? anything you dont want me to do? anything to add?” you ask.

“no, I'll do whatever you want me to.” he says, a mixture of fondness and longing swirling in his chest.

“okay, i guess we're really doing this huh?” you ask as you feel some tension leave your body.

“yeah,” he murmurs, even as his heart screams at the unfairness of it all. if only you knew just how real it already was for him.

[—]

“did you actually really ask seungcheol to be your fake boyfriend?” seungkwan questions, taking another sip from his iced americano, his eyes narrowing at you suspiciously.

you sigh, pressing your palms to your face. “how did you even find out about that?”

“seokmin told me. now answer me! did you actually?” seungkwan presses, his tone both exasperated and concerned. he’s your best friend. he knows every secret, every late-night confession, and every tear you’ve ever shed over seungcheol.

you glance away, fiddling with the hem of your sleeve. “yeah... i did,” you admit softly.

seungkwan lets out a small groan, leaning back in his seat. he’s silent for a moment, and you can feel the weight of his judgment hanging between you. but there’s something else there, too. something heavier, deeper. regret, maybe.

four years ago, you were a helpless mess, pinning after seungcheol like a lovesick fool. seungkwan remembered the way you’d light up whenever seungcheol was around, the way your laughter sounded a little brighter, your smile a little wider. and he remembered the way seungcheol seemed oblivious, never showing a sign of returning your feelings.

seungkwan had wanted to help you. he’d been desperate to see you happy, to save you from the heartache that came from unrequited love. so he’d done the only thing he could think of at the time: he’d set you up with someone else.

“do you remember when i introduced you to minjun?” seungkwan asks, his voice suddenly quieter, more somber.

you blink, caught off guard by the question. “of course i do,” you reply. how could you forget? you’d been resistant at first, clinging to the faint hope that seungcheol would notice you one day. but seungkwan had been insistent. he’d told you that minjun was a good guy, someone who could make you happy, someone who could help you move on.

“you were so against it,” seungkwan recalls, his lips curving into a wistful smile. “but you finally agreed, and... well, you actually hit it off.”

a small laugh escapes your lips, though it lacks any real humor. “yeah. we did.”

for a while, dating han minjun had felt like a breath of fresh air. he was charming, thoughtful, and everything you thought you needed. for a moment, you’d even believed you’d moved on from seungcheol. but now, years later, here you were again, tangled up in your feelings for him, pretending to date him, no less.

seungkwan’s expression softens as he looks at you. “you know, i really did think minjun was a good guy back then. i just... i didn’t want to see you hurt anymore.” his voice wavers, and you can tell he feels guilty, even if it wasn’t his fault that things turned out this way.

“i know,” you murmur. “you were just trying to help.”

seungkwan sighs, setting his juice box down. “but now you’re back to seungcheol, except this time it’s... fake. and that worries me.”

your throat tightens, and you don’t know how to explain that being with seungcheol, even if it’s just for show, feels better than being with anyone else. even if it hurts a little. or maybe a lot.

“it’s complicated,” you whisper, but seungkwan isn’t satisfied. his eyes bore into yours, filled with worry and protectiveness, like he’s already bracing for the heartbreak he’s sure is coming.

[—]

“do you think we should pick something that matches or just, you know, kind of goes together?” you ask, sifting through rows of dresses, your fingers brushing over various shades of fabric.

seungcheol tries to focus on the suits in front of him, but he’s barely listening, too distracted by the way your voice lilts at the end of your question. “hm?” he clears his throat, hoping you don’t notice how he’s completely lost his train of thought. “yeah, matching is… good.”

you raise an eyebrow at him, a small smile playing on your lips. “that didn’t answer my question, cheol.”

he laughs nervously, scratching the back of his neck. “sorry. what was it again?”

“do you want our outfits to match?” you repeat, holding up a dress. it’s a deep, elegant navy blue, and seungcheol’s heart does a weird little flip. “like this one? it’s the same color as that suit you’re holding.”

seungcheol swallows hard, imagining the two of you side by side, perfectly coordinated, like a couple in a fairytale. he tries to shake the thought away. “yeah, that’s… perfect,” he says, his voice coming out softer than he intended.

you seem satisfied with his answer, disappearing into the dressing room to try it on. seungcheol stands there, shifting his weight from foot to foot, heart pounding for no reason he can justify. he’s known you for years, been by your side for countless moments, but something about this—the idea of the two of you dressed up together, the way you trusted his opinion—feels different, it makes his heart race.

“cheol?” your voice pulls him out of his thoughts, and he looks up, his breath catching in his throat as you step out of the dressing room.

he’s not prepared for the sight. you look… breathtaking, the dress fitting you in a way that leaves him momentarily stunned. his eyes widen, and he opens his mouth to say something, but no words come out. it’s like he’s forgotten how to speak.

you tilt your head, concern flickering in your eyes. “is it bad?”

“no!” he blurts out, voice cracking embarrassingly. he clears his throat again; surprised at his own voice, his cheeks burning. “no, you look—” he stammers, searching for the right words, his mind a complete mess. but then, he smiles his boyish smile, his dimples dipping more than they usually do & says “god, you look… beautiful. really beautiful.”

you blink, taken aback, and seungcheol swears he sees your cheeks flush a little. he’s painfully aware of how warm his own face feels, how his hands are suddenly clammy.

“thank you,” you say, your voice softer now. you look at him, eyes wide and earnest, and seungcheol can’t handle it. he has to look away, but not before he sees the small smile spreading across your face.

he fiddles with the cuff of his suit jacket, trying to regain some semblance of composure. “you… you really think this is the one?” he asks, his voice cracking again. he winces.

you nod, your smile growing. “i think it’s perfect. but… what about your suit?”

he’s still trying to recover from seeing you in that dress, but he manages to nod. “right, my suit,” he says, forcing himself to focus. “i’ll go try it on.”

you sit down on a bench, and seungcheol practically sprints to the fitting room, his heart pounding. he stares at his reflection as he pulls on the navy suit jacket, trying to breathe. he looks like a mess, his hair sticking up from how many times he’s run his hands through it, his face still red.

“come on, cheol,” he mutters to himself. “get it together.”

when he finally steps out, he catches the way your eyes light up, the way you look him over and nod approvingly. “that’s perfect,” you say, and his heart does that stupid flip again. “we’ll look great together.”

he laughs, but it’s a weak attempt to hide how fast his heart is racing. “yeah. we will.” the words come out before he can stop them; even he knows he sounds completely & irrevocably smitten but he can’t help it, not when you’re looking at him like that.

[—]

“so, did you say yes to being her date?” seokmin asked casually, thumbs tapping furiously at the controller in his hands as he and seungcheol tried to hold their ground in the game. “you know, her fake boyfriend and all that?”

seungcheol’s fingers faltered on the buttons for a split second, and he shot seokmin a glare. “yah, focus on the game, we can't lose,” he grumbled, feeling his face heat up. but, of course, seokmin had to bring it up now.

“wait, what?” wonwoo’s attention snapped away from the screen, his character on the verge of getting attacked. he gawked at seungcheol. “when did this happen? and why didn’t you tell us?”

soonyoung’s eyes widened, and his character in the game momentarily stood still. “hold on, hold on,” he said, nearly dropping his controller in shock. “hyung, you’re telling us you agreed to be her date and fake boyfriend, and we’re only hearing about this now?”

“can we not talk about this?” seungcheol muttered, trying to refocus on the game, but his heart was racing. the way his stomach twisted at the mention of you and the fake dating arrangement wasn’t something he wanted to discuss—especially not with his friends teasing him about it.

“absolutely not,” soonyoung protested, his competitive spirit momentarily forgotten. “this is big news, hyung! you have to spill.”

“yeah, seungcheol,” wonwoo added, a sly grin spreading across his face. “why didn’t you tell us? don’t act like it’s not a huge deal.”

seungcheol sighed, his shoulders tensing as he kept his eyes on the screen. “because it’s not a big deal, its only for a day anyway,” he insisted, but even he could hear the strain in his voice.

“you’re so full of it,” wonwoo said, barely holding back a laugh. “you've been in love with her for god knows how long, now you agreed to be her date and pretend to be her boyfriend. how is that not a big deal?”

unfortunately, soonyoung & wonwoo, have possession over seungcheol's not so secret, secret. but really, everyone knows, it's only a secret to you, seungkwan & seokmin although seokmin has been starting to catch on for the past few months. everyone else has miraculously managed to somehow keep their mouth shut around seokmin and seungkwan for 3 years; knowing how close you are with the two of them. I guess in a way you could say the boys are loyal to him? anyways.

seungcheol’s grip on his controller tightened. “can we just focus on winning?” he pleaded, desperate to change the subject, but his friends’ curiosity was palpable.

“fine,” soonyoung said with an exaggerated sigh. “but we’re coming back to this later.”

just as seungcheol was about to let out a breath of relief, the sound of the front door opening made his heart stutter, and he turned his head, unable to help himself. you stepped into the apartment, bags in hand, looking slightly windswept but effortlessly beautiful.

“hey, i’m home!” you greeted, smiling at everyone.

seungcheol’s mind blanked, his focus slipping away entirely as he took you in. he barely registered seokmin’s frantic warning—“hyung, watch out!”—before his character was obliterated in the game.

“yes!” soonyoung cheered, throwing his hands in the air. “we won, wonwoo!”

wonwoo leaned back with a smug smile, “thank you,” he said, looking over at you.

you blinked, confused. “me? what did i do?”

wonwoo’s eyes glinted with mischief. “it’s nothing you need to know… yet,” he replied, his voice teasing, and he shot you a knowing smile. “but thank you anyway.”

you tilted your head, clearly still confused, but you shrugged it off. “okay, if you say so,” you said, heading down the hall. “i’m gonna go take a quick shower.”

seungcheol watched you disappear, his shoulders slumping as he realized just how badly he’d let himself get distracted. he could feel the heat rising to his face, embarrassment and longing twisting in his chest.

seungcheol couldn't let it show. or at least, he thought he didn’t. he tried to play it cool, act normal around you, and pretend that his heart didn’t stutter every time you called his name. but apparently, seokmin noticed.

“you’ve got that look again,” seokmin pointed out, a teasing lilt in his voice.

seungcheol turned to find seokmin leaning against the backrest of the sofa, a grin spreading across his face. he blinked, feigning ignorance. “what look?”

“you know,” seokmin drawled, pushing himself off the backrest to lean closer to seungcheol “that look you get when she’s around.”

seungcheol felt his pulse skip, an uncomfortable warmth creeping up his neck. he avoided seokmin’s eyes, choosing instead to stare at the floor. “i don’t know what you’re talking about,” he muttered, hoping his voice sounded steady.

“sure you don’t.” seokmin plopped down beside him, elbow nudging his ribs. “c’mon, hyung. you’re not exactly subtle.”

seungcheol rubbed the back of his neck, a nervous habit he couldn’t seem to shake. “it’s not like that,” he insisted, though even he knew how unconvincing he sounded.

seokmin raised an eyebrow. “really?” he asked, voice softening. “because the way you look at her…you look at her like you'd burn down the whole world for her.”

seungcheol’s throat tightened, and he pressed his lips together, finally meeting seokmin’s gaze. there was no judgment there, only curiosity and a quiet sort of understanding.

“i didn’t mean to,” seungcheol admitted, voice barely above a whisper. “it just… happened.”

seokmin’s smile was gentle now, the teasing gone. “and what are you gonna do about it?”

seungcheol’s hands fisted the fabric of his shirt, a sense of helplessness washing over him. “nothing,” he said, bitterness seeping into the word. “she’s too important. if i mess this up… i can’t lose her.”

seokmin studied him for a moment, the silence stretching between them. “but what if you don’t lose her?” he said quietly. “what if she feels the same way?”

seungcheol’s heart twisted painfully. the thought had crossed his mind more times than he could count, but he always pushed it away, too afraid to hope. “and what if she doesn’t?” he countered, his voice breaking. “i’d rather be close to her like this than lose everything.”

seokmin sighed, leaning back on his hands. “i get it,” he murmured. “but you can’t live your whole life being afraid. sometimes, you’ve got to take the risk.”

seungcheol let out a humorless laugh. “easy for you to say,” he mumbled, but his chest felt a little lighter, the weight of his secret shared, even if just for a moment.

seokmin’s smile returned, playful once more. “hey, i’m rooting for you,” he said, clapping a hand on seungcheol’s shoulder. “but seriously, the way you look at her… it’s gonna give you away one day.”

seungcheol swallowed, a smile tugging at his lips despite himself. “maybe,” he whispered. “but not today.”

seokmin grinned, standing up and offering a hand to pull seungcheol to his feet. “well, just know i’ll be there to say ‘i told you so’ when it happens.”

seungcheol took his hand, rising to his feet. “yeah, yeah,” he said, but his heart felt a little less heavy & a lot more hopeful.

[—]

seungcheol stood outside your bedroom door with seokmin, heart pounding as he took a steadying breath. it wasn’t the first time he was picking you up, but today felt different. maybe it was the gravity of the wedding you were attending, or maybe it was the fact that this arrangement had slowly become more real for him than he ever dared admit.

“hyung, you okay?” seokmin asked, glancing at him curiously.

seungcheol blinked, snapping out of his reverie. “yeah,” he lied, his voice sounding far more confident than he felt. “let’s just…get this over with.” he lied, it hasn't even started yet but he doesnt want it to end.

seokmin gave him a sorry look but said nothing, and before seungcheol could dwell on it, you opened the door to your room. his breath caught in his throat, and for a moment, he forgot how to speak. you stood there, radiant in a simple yet elegant dress, hair styled perfectly, eyes sparkling with nervous anticipation.

he was so down bad for you, it was almost pathetic.

he couldn't help the boyish smile that adorned his face, “you look… beautiful.” he didn’t trust himself to say more, afraid that if he did, the truth would come spilling out.

a faint blush dusted your cheeks, and you smiled, the kind of smile that made his heart feel like it was doing somersaults. “thanks, cheol,” you said shyly, adjusting your dress. “you clean up pretty well yourself.

he let out a laugh, hoping it masked the way his pulse was racing. “you ready?” he asked, extending his hand to you. “our grand entrance awaits.”

you hesitated for the briefest moment, but then you slipped your hand into his, and he had to fight the urge to hold on tighter, to pull you closer and never let go. he couldn’t, of course. this was all an act. just a performance to keep up appearances, to help you save face in front of your ex and everyone else.

but god, how he wished it were real.

[—]

the car ride was quiet at first, the only sound being the hum of the engine and the soft music playing from the radio. seungcheol couldn’t help but glance at you every few seconds, noting the way your fingers fidgeted with the hem of your dress. he knew you well enough to recognize the signs of your anxiety, and his chest tightened.

“hey,” he said gently, reaching over to take your hand in his. your eyes widened in surprise, but you dont pull away. instead, you stared at your intertwined fingers, and he wondered if you could feel his heart pounding.

“are you okay?” he asked, his voice softer now, more careful. “if you’re not, we can turn around. we don’t have to go.”

you shook your head, a small, determined smile forming on your lips. “i’m fine,” you whispered. “it’s just… weird, you know? seeing him get married.”

seungcheol swallowed, a lump forming in his throat. he hated that minjun hurt you and how he couldn’t do anything but hold your hand and hope it was enough.

“if you want to leave at any point,” he said, squeezing your hand gently, “just say the word. i’ll get you out of there, no questions asked.”

you looked at him then, really looked at him, and he felt like he was being laid bare under your gaze, your eyes boring into his. “thank you, cheol,” you murmured, and your voice cracked just a little. “i don’t know what i’d do without you.”

his chest ached, a mix of longing and fear swirling inside him. he wanted to tell you that he’d always be there, that he’d never leave, but he didn’t. instead, he settled for rubbing soft circles into the back of your hand with his thumb, hoping you couldn’t feel how badly he was trembling.

the silence in the car was comfortable, but electric, charged with something unspoken. the way your shoulders relaxed under his touch, the way your breathing evened out as he held your hand—it was almost enough to make him believe that you felt the same way.

but that was dangerous territory, and seungcheol knew better than to get his hopes up.

“you know,” he said lightly, trying to steer his thoughts away from the ache in his chest, “you’re kind of incredible. not everyone could handle a situation like this with so much grace.”

you laughed, the sound soft and a little self-deprecating. “i don’t know about that or this grace you speak of,” you said. “i’m still trying to convince myself not to run away.”

“if you run,” he said, a teasing grin tugging at his lips, “i’ll run with you. we can both escape and go somewhere far away. just the two of us.”

the joke made you laugh, but there was a wistful note to it, and seungcheol had to look away to keep himself from saying something stupid. his heart was a mess, pounding wildly with every word, every touch, every second he spent in your presence.

“thanks, cheol,” you said again, your voice quieter now. “really. i’m so lucky to have you.”

seungcheol drove on, your hand still in his, hoping that this moment would last a little longer.

[—]

the wedding had gone off without a hitch, at least on the surface. the vows had been exchanged, laughter and applause filling the air, and now the reception was in full swing. seungcheol had been trying his best to stay close to you, to keep you from feeling the weight of the memories this day might bring. but as he returned with your drinks, he froze.

there you were, standing stiffly, looking more tense than he’d seen you all night. and, of course, minjun was in front of you, a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes as he leaned in, saying something seungcheol couldn’t quite hear. your polite smile was brittle, your shoulders tense, and anger flared in his chest.

he forced himself to take a calming breath before approaching, setting your drinks down on a nearby table and stepping in between you & minjun, “hey,” he said smoothly, his voice calm but firm. “everything okay here?”

your eyes darted to him, a flicker of relief crossing your face. you tried to smile, but it wavered. “yeah,” you said, your voice a little too tight. “we were just… talking.”

minjun glanced at seungcheol, an eyebrow arching. “seungcheol?” he asked, a smug smile playing on his lips. “fancy seeing you here, i dont remember including you in the invite?” he quirked an eyebrow.

you opened your mouth, your voice coming out steadier this time. “actually, he's my plus one, since we're dating.”

“dating? as in, he's your boyfriend?” minjun asked as he sneaked a glance at seungcheol.

“yes, actually.” your words sent your stomach doing flips.

the disbelief on minjun’s face was palpable. he snorted, his gaze flicking between the two of you as if you’d just told a joke. “boyfriend? really?” he smirked, clearly unconvinced. “come on. that’s a little desperate, don’t you think?” minjun tries to reach for your hand.

before you could react, seungcheol stepped forward, his hand moving to reach for yours protectively; staking his claim. “i don’t think your wife,” he said, emphasizing the word with a hint of sarcasm, “would appreciate you making my girlfriend uncomfortable.”

minjun’s smile faltered, but he didn’t back down. “prove it,” he challenged, crossing his arms. “you really expect me to believe this… whatever this is?”

seungcheol’s jaw clenched. “we don’t need to prove anything to you,” he said, his voice low and controlled. “& you certainly don't have the right to ask for anything, much less a proof, not after all the shit you’ve done.”

minjun’s expression soured, but before he could respond, seungcheol turned to you, his eyes softening. “come on, pretty,” he murmured, his voice gentle and eyes earnest,. “dance with me?”

you stomach did somersaults, seungcheol watches you intently, he watches the way your expression melts into a grateful smile. you leaned in close and pressed a soft kiss to his cheek. “thank you,” you whispered, so quietly he barely heard it.

his heart stuttered in his chest, warmth flooding through him. but he forced himself to push the feeling away, to remind himself that this was all for show. you were only doing this because minjun was watching, because you needed to keep up the pretense. there was no way you actually meant that kiss, no way you felt the same fluttering in your chest that he did.

but he couldn’t help the way his heart betrayed him, the way his entire body seemed to light up at the simple touch of your lips on his skin. he swallowed, hoping you didn’t notice the way his cheeks flushed, and offered you his hand.

“let’s go,” you said, taking his hand, your smile genuine and warm.

the music had shifted to a slow song, and seungcheol led you onto the dance floor, his fingers still intertwined with yours. his heart was pounding, his mind racing, but he tried to focus on you, on the way you were looking at him now, your eyes so full of trust and something he couldn’t quite place.

“thank you,” you said again, your voice a little steadier this time.

he gave you a small smile, trying to keep his emotions in check. “i’ll always be here for you,” he said, his voice soft. “you know that, right?”

you nodded, your gaze flickering down to where his hand rested on your waist. “i do,” you whispered, and for a moment, he thought he saw something more in your eyes. something he desperately wanted to believe in.

seungcheol tried to ignore the way your body fit so perfectly against his, the way your smile sent his heart racing. he couldn’t let himself read too much into the way you were looking at him.

but it was so, so hard.

“cheol,” you said suddenly, pulling back just enough to look up at him. “can i ask you something?”

he swallowed, his throat dry. “of course.”

“why did you say yes?” you asked, your voice hesitant. “to being my date and… pretending to be my boyfriend?”

his breath caught in his throat. he hadn’t expected that question, and he wasn’t sure how to answer without giving himself away. “because you needed me to,” he said finally, and it was the truth, even if it wasn’t the whole truth. “and i’d do anything for you.”

your eyes softened, and he wondered if you could see right through him, if you knew just how badly he was hurting, just how desperately he wanted this to be real.

“you’re too good to me,” you whispered.

he shook his head, a sad smile tugging at his lips. “no,” he said. “i’m just… selfish.”

you tilted your head, confused. “selfish?”

he opened his mouth, then closed it, the words dying on his tongue. he couldn’t tell you. he couldn’t ruin this. “never mind,” he said, forcing a laugh. “just… ignore me.”

but you didn’t. your gaze lingered on him, searching, and he had to look away before he did something stupid, like confess right then and there.

“cheol,” you said, your voice so soft it made his heart ache. “what are you hiding?”

“nothing,” he lied, pulling you a little closer, trying to focus on the music instead of the way your eyes were looking right into his soul. “i’m not hiding anything.”

but he was. he was hiding everything. the way he loved you, the way he wanted you, the way he’d give anything to be more than…this.

“okay,” you said finally, but he could hear the doubt in your voice. “if you say so.”

“you know,” he said as he let out a small sigh, his voice barely above a whisper, “you didn’t have to kiss my cheek just now. not for minjun’s sake, anyway.”

you tilted your head, looking up at him with wide eyes. “i didn’t do it for him,” you said quietly as seungcheol watches your eyes sparkle and dilate, for a moment, he forgot how to breathe.

“then… why?” he asked, his voice cracking slightly.

your gaze searching his face. “just because.. i wanted to.”

seungcheol’s mind went blank, his heart pounding so loudly he was sure you could hear it. he didn’t know what to say, didn’t know how to process the sudden, overwhelming rush of hope that filled his chest. 

“should we call it a night?” you asked, your voice gentle as you turned to seungcheol, who still seemed lost in thought. you weren’t sure if it was because of the way you had kissed his cheek earlier or if he was still worried about you, but his expression had been hard to read.

seungcheol blinked, snapping out of whatever daze he had been in. “yeah,” he said, nodding slowly. “let’s head home. but, uh, let me hit the bathroom real quick first?”

you nodded, offering him a small smile. “i’ll wait by the entrance.”

he nodded back, his eyes lingering on you a moment longer before he turned and made his way to the restroom. as he walked, he felt his heart racing, the memory of your soft kiss on his cheek replaying in his mind. you’d said it was just because you wanted to, but that couldn’t mean anything... right?

 seungcheol washed his hands, letting the cool water calm him down. he took a deep breath, trying to gather his scattered thoughts. he doesn't really want this night to end, he's not ready for that yet.

but that’s when he heard it: voices coming from one of the stalls, low but loud enough to catch his attention.

“man, i still can’t believe you're actually married,” one voice said, a hint of mockery in his tone. “and only because you got her pregnant. how the hell did you screw up that bad?”

what the hell? seungcheol’s jaw clenched, but he forced himself to stay quiet, listening.

“don’t remind me,” minjun’s familiar voice replied. “i know, okay? it’s not like i love her or anything. but i couldn’t just bail, you know? had to do the right thing, i guess.”

the right thing? seungcheol thinks to himself, yet cheating on you is okay?

the friend laughed, a harsh, grating sound. “still, hanna’s nothing compared to your ex. that girl is so much hotter than your wife. you should’ve stayed with her.”

seungcheol’s grip on the sink tightened, his knuckles going white.

“hey, i made a mistake,” minjun grumbled, clearly defensive. “she really is hot. i was just thinking with my other head back then, okay?”

“yeah, well,” his friend drawled, “i would’ve made a move on her tonight if she hadn’t walked in with that new boyfriend of hers. what’s his name again? seungcheol or something?”

“yeah, well, i tried to,” minjun admitted, and seungcheol could practically hear the smirk in his voice. “but he showed up before i could.”

“did you see the dress she was wearing?” minjun laughed as he added, “she's got such a killer body…bet I could make her cheat on that boyfriend of hers, what do you say? 50 bucks? bet on it?”

that was it. the final straw. anger flared hot and fierce in seungcheol’s chest, and before he knew it, he was storming over to the stall. he yanked the door open, and the look of shock on both men’s faces did nothing to quell his rage.

“what the fuck did you say? you think you can talk about her like that?” seungcheol growled, his voice low and dangerous. “after everything you’ve done?”

minjun barely had time to react before seungcheol’s fist connected with his jaw. the fight was quick, brutal, and messy, with fists flying and the sound of grunts echoing off the bathroom walls. seungcheol didn’t care about the pain in his knuckles or the way his cheek throbbed from a poorly blocked punch. all he cared about was defending your honor, protecting you from these men who had no right to even think about you, let alone look in your direction.

when seungcheol finally left the bathroom, his heart was still racing, adrenaline coursing through his veins. his cheeks were slightly bloodied and his knuckles were bruised.

but before he could reach the entrance to get to you, someone grabbed his arm. he turned, only to see hanna, minjun’s wife, looking at him with wide, concerned eyes. “oh my god,” she gasped, her hands flying to her mouth. “what happened to you?”

at first, she seemed genuinely worried, but then her eyes raked over him, and her concern twisted into something more flirtatious. she reached out, her hands brushing against his arms. “you look so hot like this with all the bruises,” she whispered, her fingers trailing down his biceps.

seungcheol stiffened, every nerve in his body screaming for him to pull away. “don't,” he held a hand up, “i have a girlfriend,” he said firmly, stepping back. he glanced around, hoping you hadn’t seen any of this.

but you had. your eyes had caught sight of the scene, the way hanna's hands lingered on seungcheol’s arms, and your stomach twisted painfully. you didn’t understand why it hurt so much to see it, why your heart felt heavy and your chest ached. this was seungcheol, your good friend. you’d moved on from this heartbreak years ago... right?

you tore your gaze away, your mind spinning. you couldn’t deny the pang of jealousy, the way your pulse quickened at the sight of him with someone else, but it made no sense. seungcheol was just your friend. nothing more.

when seungcheol finally made his way over to you, unaware that you saw him & hanna, was careful not to mention it or the fight that happened. instead, he focused on the gossip he’d overheard in the bathroom. “hey,” he said, his voice gentle, “did you know?”

you barely registered his words, your mind still replaying the image of hanna's hands on his arms. your chest felt tight, and you couldn’t explain why.

“apparently,” seungcheol continued, “this whole wedding is a shotgun marriage. she’s pregnant, and that’s why they’re doing all this.” he paused, searching your face for any reaction, but you weren’t really hearing him.

“huh?” you finally said, blinking as you came back to the present. your eyes widened when you took in his bruised knuckles and the cut on his cheek. “oh my god, seungcheol. what happened to you?”

“did you hear anything of what i just said?” he asked, a mixture of frustration and worry in his voice.

you glared at him, your concern overshadowing everything else. “no, but i’m sure it’s nowhere near as important as this,” you snapped, gesturing to his bruised face and bloodied hands.

seungcheol sighed, his shoulders slumping. “it’s nothing,” he insisted, but he knew you wouldn’t let it go. not when you looked at him with so much worry, so much care, and it made his heart ache.

“nothing?” the depth of your furrowed brows going deeper, “you're bleeding, cheol.” your tone angry.  “come on,” you said, your voice softening. “i’m taking you back to my place. i need to take care of those wounds.”

he tried to protest, but you wouldn’t hear it. “please, cheol,” you whispered, and the way you said his name made his heart stutter. he wanted so badly to believe that you cared, that this wasn’t just about him being your friend.

“fine,” he relented, his voice barely above a whisper. “but only because you’re so stubborn.”

you gave him a small, relieved smile, and he felt his resolve weaken even more.

back at your apartment, you lead seungcheol to the bathroom, rummaging through the first aid kit with a determined focus. he sits on the edge of the bathtub, watching you with a mixture of awe and longing. it’s overwhelming how gentle you are with him, the way your fingers tremble slightly as you gather supplies to tend to his wounds. he wants to believe this moment means something more than simple concern for a friend, that the tenderness in your gaze holds feelings he’s been longing to hear you speak out loud.

“does it hurt?” you ask, your voice barely above a whisper as you dab a damp cloth against the cut on his cheek, your touch feather-light.

“no,” he says, his gaze never wavering from your face. the sting is nothing compared to the ache of wanting you. his heart pounds relentlessly, each beat echoing the longing he’s kept hidden for so long.

you move to bandage his knuckles, your fingers lingering on his for just a moment longer than necessary. “you’re so reckless,” you murmur, but your tone is soft, carrying nothing but worry.

he swallows, throat tight. “i couldn’t stand hearing them talk about you like that,” he admits, the words escaping before he can second-guess them.

your hands freeze. you look up at him, brows furrowing in confusion. “what do you mean?”

he hesitates, regret mingling with vulnerability, wanting to tell you everything but afraid of what might come next. “just... they were saying things they shouldn’t,” he settles on, the explanation falling flat compared to the storm raging inside him. “i couldn’t let it go.”

the bathroom feels smaller, the air thicker. you lean in closer, a wrinkle of worry creasing your forehead. “seungcheol…”

his hand lifts before he can stop it, and his fingers brush your cheek, gentle and unsure. “i just want to keep you safe,” he whispers, voice cracking, heart lodged in his throat. “even if it means getting a little bruised up.”

you’re so close now that your breath mingles with his, warm and intoxicating. your chest tightens, and something inside you shifts. you can’t tell if it’s the tenderness in his voice or the way his eyes seem to hold a secret you’ve always yearned to know. you feel your pulse spike, your mind racing. all the feelings you’ve tried so hard to bury come rushing back with an intensity that scares you.

you kneel in front of him, biting back the realization that you never really moved on, that you never truly stopped loving him. your feelings have been buried, but they resurface now, raw and undeniable, and you can’t pretend anymore.

“tonight was...a lot,” seungcheol says quietly, breaking the heavy silence. his eyes search yours, trying to make sense of the tension thick in the room.

you nod, hands trembling slightly as you pull back, though not far enough to break the spell. “yeah,” you manage, voice unsteady. “it was.”

seungcheol watches you with a gaze so full of longing that it makes your heart ache. he’s proud of you, he’s always been proud of you, but the way he’s looking at you now is different. “you were amazing,” he says, the sincerity in his voice making your breath catch. “the way you handled everything… i’m so proud of you.”

his words break something inside of you, and before you know it, you’re leaning in, closing the distance. it’s an impulse, a mistake, but you just couldn't help yourself. your lips brush against his, and for a heartbeat, time stands still.

seungcheol freezes in shock, but then he responds. his hands fly to your waist, pulling you closer, and he kisses you back with a fervor that leaves you breathless. the tension snaps like a taut wire, replaced by a burst of passion, and everything you’ve both kept buried pours out.

his fingers tighten around your waist, your hands finding their way into his hair, and you lose yourself in him. the way he tastes, the way he holds you, feels like a dream you don’t want to wake from. your heart races as the kiss deepens, desperate and all-consuming.

but then reality crashes over you like a tidal wave. you pull back abruptly, breaking away, your eyes wide with shock and horror. seungcheol looks dazed, lips parted, hair slightly mussed from your hands, and the sight of him so undone because of you only makes the guilt worse.

“i-” you stammer, voice cracking as you scramble to your feet. “oh my god. i’m so sorry.”

“wait-” he begins, but you’re already moving, stumbling backward, cheeks flaming with embarrassment. “i shouldn’t have… we promised we wouldn’t-”

“it’s okay,” he tries to reassure you, his voice gentle yet laced with desperation. he stands, reaching for you, but you take another step back, your emotions spiraling.

“no,” you whisper, shaking your head, overwhelmed and terrified by the feelings that won’t stop crashing over you. “i ruined everything.”

you feel tears prick your eyes, your chest aching with regret and confusion. the kiss shattered the fragile balance between you, and you don’t know how to piece it back together. “you should go,” you manage, voice cracking. “its getting late,” your head starts feeling dizzy, “I'll call you tomorrow.” 

before seungcheol can argue, before he can make sense of the whirlwind between you, you’re gone. you rush out of the bathroom, heart hammering, not sure where to go but needing to escape. the apartment feels suffocating, your feelings too much to handle, and you slam your bedroom door behind you.

you lean against it, sliding down until you’re curled up on the floor, tears spilling down your cheeks. what have you done? you kissed seungcheol, and now everything is a mess. the love you never let yourself acknowledge burns bright, and it terrifies you.

in the bathroom, seungcheol stands frozen, the ghost of your kiss still lingering on his lips. he’s never felt more hopeless, more in love, and more afraid that he’s lost you forever. the echo of your apology rings in his ears, and he clenches his fists, wishing he could take away the hurt and confusion you’re feeling.

he tells himself he’ll wait for you to call, but he’s terrified that this time, waiting might not be enough.

but still, seungcheol waits. 

the days stretched on, each one feeling heavier than the last. it had been a week since the wedding, a week since that kiss had turned his world upside down, and still, there was no call from you. you had promised, but the days passed in silence. he wanted so bad to be the one reaching out, but he knows you well enough to know that it wouldnt end well, and that you needed your own time to process things. but he couldn’t stop thinking about what had happened between you. each morning he woke up with a sliver of hope, a quiet, desperate wish that today would be the day you would reach out. but by every nightfall, the silence was all he had. the silence, and the ache that gnawed at him constantly.

he kept replaying that moment over and over in his mind, the feel of your lips on his, the way your eyes had searched his face afterward. the hope, the confusion, the raw vulnerability—it haunted him, leaving him restless and on edge. there was something about the way you pulled away from him, your apology spilling out in a rush, that made his heart ache. his own feelings were a mess, tangled up in things he hadn’t fully understood until that kiss, much less you, right?

he tried to keep busy, to drown the thoughts that plagued him. the gym became his sanctuary, his second home, a place to work out the frustration, the ache in his chest. he lifted weights until his body screamed for rest, hoping that physical exhaustion would bring some peace. but no matter how much he tried to tire himself out, the ache remained, lurking at the edges of his mind, waiting for the quiet moments when it all came rushing back.

work was just a blur, the hours blending together as he went through the motions. he found himself distracted, staring at his phone more often than usual, his thumb hovering over your contact, only to put it down before he could hit send. what would he even say? what if you weren't ready yet & him reaching out only made things worse? what if you didn’t even want to hear from him? what if his feelings were just a one-sided mess that he’d have to live with forever?

the days bled into one another, each one more unbearable than the last. he couldn’t tell anyone how much he missed you—how much he longed to hear your voice, to see you again, to figure out what all of this meant. so he kept it all inside, bottled up, carrying the weight of his emotions on his own. there were moments when he could feel it, the weight of his longing pressing on his chest, making it hard to breathe. he had tried to be patient, to give you space, but with each passing day, that patience was wearing thin.

he wondered if he’d done something wrong. had he misread the situation? had he pushed too far when he kissed you back? maybe you only kissed him because of the atmosphere or adrenaline or whatever? every time he thought about it, he felt sick. maybe you didn’t feel the same way. maybe he had crossed a line, and now he was paying the price for it. the thought of you slipping further away from him was unbearable.

his phone sat on the coffee table, screen blank, mocking him with its silence. he had told himself he’d wait, that you’d reach out when you were ready, but the longer the silence stretched on, the harder it became to believe that. he wanted to hear your voice, to know that you weren’t angry with him, to know that the kiss hadn’t ruined everything between you. but instead, he sat in his apartment, surrounded by the deafening quiet.

& seungkwan? seungkwan had been on you about it for days.

"seriously, you’re just going to leave things like this?" seungkwan had said one morning, his eyes narrowing at you over his cup of coffee. "you kissed him. you kissed seungcheol hyung. and now you’re acting like it didn’t happen. you think he’s not waiting for you to come around?"

you hadn’t responded at first, unsure of how to even begin to process it. all you could think about was the kiss, and how everything felt so wrong and so right in that moment, and how now, in the aftermath, everything was a mess.

"you’ve been so quiet about this. and it’s obvious to everyone. you’re both miserable. don’t you get it?" seungkwan continued, his voice growing more insistent. "you can’t just let it go, not after that. you owe it to yourself & especially to him to figure out what this is. what he is to you."

you had shaken your head, turning away, not wanting to face the truth. "i don’t even know what it is. i don’t know if i—"

"you’re making it worse by not doing anything," he cut you off, his eyes narrowing. "stop running from it. just talk to him, okay? if you don’t, you’re going to regret it."

you sighed heavily, sinking back into the couch. you had never been good at this kind of thing, especially when it came to feelings. but something in seungkwan’s words made you pause. the last thing you wanted was to regret anything.

"i don’t know if i can," you murmured. "i don’t know if he’ll even want to talk to me after everything."

seungkwan rolled his eyes, crossing his arms. "stop thinking like that. he doesn’t know what to do either, so you’re both stuck, waiting for the other to make a move. just go to him. get your act together."

before you could respond, the door to your apartment unlocks, interrupting your conversation, and there stood seokmin, looking far too cheerful for the somber mood that had settled over you.

"hey, what’s going on in here?" he asked, stepping inside with his usual bright smile.

you shrugged, feeling the weight of seungkwan’s words pressing on your chest. "nothing much. just… thinking."

seungkwan immediately jumped in, as if he couldn’t help himself. "you need to go talk to seungcheol. i’m so done waiting for this mess to sort itself out."

seokmin raised an eyebrow, a knowing look on his face. "ah," he crossed his arms, settling into the couch. "you’re still haven't called huh?"

"no," you admitted, your voice small. "i don’t know what to say to him."

"yeah, well, you’re not the only one," seokmin said with a sigh, his tone softening. "but running away from it won’t solve anything. look, and you know what cheol's like. if you tell him you need space & time & that you'll call him, he's gonna listen & wait for you. he’s not going to make the first move until you do so go talk to him, okay? figure it out. or at least to put that guy out of his misery."

you nodded slowly, trying to take in his words. it wasn’t that simple. it never was. but seokmin had a way of speaking to you that made you feel like maybe, you could take that first step.

seungkwan was still persistent, though. "seriously, i’m not letting you off the hook. you still love him after all these years, don’t you?"

"i don’t know," you said, your voice cracking. "i think i do, but i don’t even know how to deal with even coming to terms that i like him. everything’s so messed up. i kissed him, and now i… i don’t know what to do with all of it."

seokmin looked at you with an almost knowing smile. "sometimes, things don’t have to be figured out all at once. it’s okay to just… see what happens. go to him and talk. take it one step at a time."

seungkwan nodded eagerly, as if the suggestion had finally gotten through to you. "exactly. just go. trust me, you’re both miserable. just fix it."

the decision was made. somehow, someway, you had to go to him. you didn’t know what you were going to say, or how you were going to fix everything that had gone wrong, but you knew you had to try. the thought of never knowing how he felt, or whether you had a chance, was unbearable.

it had been days since you last saw him. days since everything had spiraled. and now here you were, on the verge of either fixing things or making them worse. you stood frozen, unsure of what to do. your hands trembled slightly, and for the first time in a long while, you felt completely out of control.

you knocked softly, but the sound felt too loud in the quiet hallway. a few moments later, you heard the shuffle of footsteps from the other side, and your heart skipped a beat.

the door swung open, and seungcheol stood there, looking absolutely stunned to see you standing there. his eyes widened in confusion, and for a brief second, you both just stared at each other in silence.

he seemed to take a deep breath, as if bracing himself. "you… you’re here," he said quietly, almost as if he couldn’t believe it. "are you… okay?"

you didn’t know how to respond. you wanted to say so many things, but words felt like too much. you stood there, rooted to the spot, unable to form a coherent sentence. the silence stretched, and then he spoke again, his voice breaking the tension.

"come in," he said softly, stepping aside to let you in, but you didn’t move. "did i… did i do something wrong? if i upset you, i’m sorry. i didn’t mean to. i really didn’t." his voice was strained, as if he was holding back something. "i know we agreed on the whole fake dating thing for just 1 night, and maybe i crossed a line. but i didn’t mean to. i didn’t mean to make things complicated. I.. I didnt mean to make you uncomfortable.”

he sounded so genuinely sorry, and that was the moment it hit you—seungcheol was just as lost as you were.

you swallowed, forcing yourself to step over the threshold. you walked inside, every part of you feeling as though you were making a decision you couldn’t take back. the door clicked shut behind you, and you stood in the middle of the living room, unsure of what to do or say next.

he gestured toward the couch, but neither of you sat. there was a tension hanging between you two, something unsaid but felt in the air. you stayed there, frozen, trying to process your thoughts while he watched you, waiting for something.

he cleared his throat, his voice quieter now. "come sit, please," he said. "talk to me, please. is it something i did? i… i can't fix it if i dont know what i did wrong."

you shook your head slowly, still unable to find your words. you felt like a mess, and you could tell by his expression that he felt the same. the weight of everything that had happened—the kiss, the awkward distance between you two after—was hanging over you both.

finally, you spoke, your voice barely above a whisper. "it’s not your fault."

"what do you mean?" he asked, his brows furrowing in confusion, a mix of hope and worry in his gaze. "what’s not my fault?"

"i kissed you," you muttered, the words coming out rushed, almost in a panic. "it was me. i shouldn’t have done it. and i’m sorry."

he seemed taken aback, a flash of guilt crossing his face. "but… why? why did you kiss me?” 

you bit your lip, looking down at the floor, avoiding his eyes for a moment. "i don’t know why," you admitted, the confession escaping before you could stop it. "i wasn't thinking…i just… i was jealous. i saw hanna with you, and i couldn’t stand it. i… i kissed you because of that, but now, i’m not sure if it was jealousy or because i like you."

seungcheol’s face softened, his eyes searching yours as if trying to make sense of it. "you were jealous?" his voice was barely audible, as if the question itself was too much to bear. his eyes were glossy, and his hands trembled slightly at his sides. he took a step closer, his voice breaking as he spoke. "you… you like me?"

you took in a deep breath, feeling the tears prick at the corners of your eyes. "i think so, i don’t know..I'm not sure but i don’t want to lose you over a stupid kiss."

seungcheol exhaled shakily as his heart falters to the pit of his stomach. he felt a mixture of anger, bitterness and heartbreak flare in his chest, his fingers threading through his hair as he took a moment to gather himself. "a stupid kiss," he repeated, “you dont know if you like me?” and there was a bitterness to his voice that made your chest tighten. he looked at you, his eyes shining with something raw, something that made your heart splinter.

"it's not just a stupid kiss to me," he whispered, and your breath caught. "do you know how long i’ve been in love with you? do you have any idea how many times i’ve tried to hold back these feelings because i was terrified you wouldn’t feel the same?"

your eyes widened, your knees nearly giving out at his words. "you… you're in love with me?" you whispered, barely able to believe it.

he let out a bitter laugh, the sound cracking in the air between you. "yeah," he said, his voice breaking on the word. "i’m in love with you. it’s been hell, watching you, waiting for the right moment, praying that maybe, one day, you'd feel the same. and then you kissed me, and god, for a second, i thought it was real. i thought maybe you felt it too."

your hands shook as you tried to process his confession, the weight of his words pressing down on you, leaving you breathless. "cheol…" you started, but he held up a hand, his gaze turning away from you.

"don't," he whispered, pain etched in every line of his face. "if you're not sure, if you don't know what you want, please… don't say anything. because this? this hurts too much."

your chest ached, your heart breaking at the sight of him, of the way he was barely holding himself together. "i’m sorry," you choked out, tears finally spilling down your cheeks. "i didn’t know. i never realized—"

"that’s the thing," he interrupted, his voice strained. "i've always been here, and you never realized." he swallowed hard, his jaw clenching as he tried to hold back his own tears. "i can’t… i can’t keep doing this if you don't feel the same,”

seungcheol softens as he took in a deep breath, “I can accept, no–I can understand if you don’t love me back,” he says, his voice breaking, “but i need you to at least be sure you like me. if you can’t even be sure you like me, then i don’t think i can do this.” his hands curl into fists on his knees, the weight of his words pressing into the air between you.

the tears come without warning, spilling down your cheeks as everything you’ve been holding back crashes over you. “cheol,” you begin to confess, voice trembling, “i was in love with you four years ago. back then, before everything. before my ex.” your confession hangs heavy, and you can see the shock and pain in his eyes.

“four years ago?” he chokes out. he’s crying too, his tears slipping silently down his face. “why didn’t you tell me?”

you wipe at your face, trying to catch your breath. “because i thought it was over. i thought my feelings had become platonic, that they’d evolved into this safe, distant affection. but seeing you... seeing hanna flirt with you... it hurt. it hurt because i realized i never really let you go. i still love you, cheol. and it’s not just this soft, easy love. it’s the kind that makes me want you even when it hurts.”

his sob catches in his throat, and he reaches for you, his hands trembling. “i’ve loved you for so long,” he confesses, his voice cracking under the weight of it all. “i tried to hide it. i tried to hold it back, but i couldn’t. you’ve always been the one, even when i knew i shouldn’t feel that way.”

the two of you sit there, crying together, the years of longing, misunderstandings, and suppressed emotions finally crashing down. he cups your face, thumb brushing away your tears. “so now what?” you ask, voice small and broken.

seungcheol pulls back slightly, looking at you with a playful glint in his eyes, but there's something vulnerable there too. he smiles as he rubs soothing circles on your cheek with his thumb. "now... now i ask you out on a date," he says, his voice softer, but his tone filled with so much emotion. “but—” he pauses, his smile fading slowly as his gaze turns serious now, “i’ll give you…five dates.”

“what? what do you mean?” your eyebrows scrunch in confusion.

seungcheol's smile returns as he takes in your pouty face before clearing his throat, “i'll let you decide if you still want me after that. no pressure. in case you change your mind.” his hand goes to reach for a stray hair near your cheek and tucks it behind your ear as he gives you a soft smile, still holding a certain sadness and uncertainty to it.

you smile softly, shaking your head. “i don’t need five dates to know my answer, cheol. i'm not changing my mind.” bold adrenaline suddenly pumps through your blood, and you hastily pull seungcheol closer to you in a quick motion, grabbing him by the collar of his shirt, and then you place a quick kiss on his lips. it's nothing romantic by any means, neither was it movie-scene-worthy. it's nothing like that, but it is more than enough to soothe your soaring heart, and it's definitely more than enough to send your message across to seungcheol.

seungcheol’s eyes widen in surprise as you pull away. "you’re…sure.” this time, it wasn't a question.

"i'm sure," you repeat anyway for him, stepping into his arms as your heart flutters at the feeling of him finally pulling you in, his embrace as warm as you'd imagined.

his arms wrapping around you with a warmth and desperation that sends a shiver down your spine. It feels like everything you've both been holding back for so long is coming unraveled, like this embrace is the start of something fragile but real. His face buries into the crook of your neck, and you feel his breath, heavy and uneven, as he holds on like he's afraid to let go.

"i've waited so long to hear you say that," he murmurs, voice muffled against your skin. His words are shaky, the tremble betraying the vulnerability he’s still trying to hide. "i’ve wanted this for so long, but i never imagined it would feel this terrifying."

your hand finds his back, holding him just as tightly. "it’s terrifying for me too," you admit softly, your voice trembling. "but... i’m tired of being afraid.”

he pulls back slightly, his forehead pressing against yours as his eyes search your face. “let’s give this a real chance, even if it scares us. even if it’s hard." he whispers, a hint of a smile breaking through the sorrow that had clouded his expression. 

you nod, your eyes locked with his. "i want to," you say, feeling a fragile hope bloom in your chest. "i want us."

a soft, relieved laugh escapes his lips, and he pulls you into a real kiss this time—gentle, slow, and full of everything unspoken. It’s not perfect, but it feels like a promise, like a beginning you both desperately needed. you lose yourself in the moment, your heart pounding as the weight of everything finally starts to lift.

when you both pull away, breathless but smiling, seungcheol rests his forehead against yours. "so, about those five dates, even though you say you dont need them," he teases, his voice a little lighter now, a spark of his usual playful demeanor coming back. "should we count this one, or start fresh?"

you laugh, the sound bringing color back into the space between you. "maybe we should count this one," you say, your heart feeling impossibly full. "but only if it means you have to try extra hard to make the next four unforgettable."

his smile widens, the warmth in his eyes chasing away the lingering shadows of doubt. "deal," he says, his hands still resting on your waist. "i’ll make every single one worth remembering, just you wait."

[formulawolff]

america's princess - t.w.

pairing -> popstar!reader x toto wolff

word count -> 3.1k

warnings -> age gap relationship, cursing, slight angst (mostly online hate), toto is completely down bad and would do anything to make reader content, yadayadayada

a/n -> this fic was inspired by this ask! i hope you enjoy this one babe! <3 if you guys enjoy this one, i may consider expanding the au :p

"it appears that i have one more guest tonight. abel, would you please join me on the stage?"

in that moment, the sound that floods your ears is deafening.

abel tesfaye, also known as the weeknd, strolls onto the stage, bearing a dazzling grin as he approaches you. donning his signature sunnies, he pulls you in close, wrapping you tightly against his chest.

you can barely hear the words as the crowd roars. the flash from the phones is blinding, fans desperate to capture what was to come.

"i am so proud of you, pretty lady."

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

"th-hank you," your voice falters, threatening of tears as your head swivels, surveying the arena.

never in your life would you have predicted that you would be standing here, performing for a sold out crowd of tens of thousands of people.

people who banded together for one sole purpose.

to watch you perform.

and although you were on the verge of completely coming undone, the humility crashing over you like a tidal wave, you were well aware one thing.

the show must go on.

no matter what.

swiveling on your heel, your fingers curl around the microphone, bringing it to your plush lips, "i think you guys will like this one."

shooting a wink, you hold you breath as darkness swaths the stadium. all around, there are hushed murmurs, brimmed with anticipation. there are a few shouts here and there, but you remain still, your chest heaving as the adrenaline pumps in your veins.

a singular spotlight illuminates the stage, showering you with a silvery glow.

almost as if you were bathing in moonlight.

abel lingers to your left, remaining in place. in your peripheral, you catch him dipping his head, flashing a brief thumbs up.

this was it.

now or never.

as the notes begin, fans scream. in the first few rows, you can make out a band of girls of girls jumping in place, jostling with excitement. never in your life had you seen so many phones raised in the air, each of them pointed at the stage.

"i had a vision," your voice, oh so tantalizing, overcomes the stadium, the crowd growing silent. almost if as they were in a hypnosis, completely and utterly entranced by the scene unfolding before them.

"a vision of my nails in the kitchen. scratching counter tops, i was screaming. my back like arched a. my position couldn't stop you were hitting it

and i shouldn't cry, but i love it, star boy. and i shouldn't cry, but i love it, i love it, star boy."

as you move across the stage, twirling about, abel starts in, maintaining eye contact, raising an arm as he points.

"i just want so see you shine 'cause i know you are a star, girl."

inhaling a breath, you join in, the euphoria only growing more and more intense as it builds in the pit of your stomach.

"i just want to see you shine' cause i know you a star, girl."

with each note hit effortlessly, you finish the song, beaming as the stadium erupts. abel strides toward you, bringing you in for one final embrace before the lights dim. you feel his lips press against your cheek, and he murmurs something you can't quite decipher.

you wish you could make out what he said, you really did.

but you were too busy riding that high.

that feeling that left you buzzing, your fingers and toes trembling as you take a step forward, to the center of the stage. clearing your throat, you scramble to formulate a coherent sentence as the crowd chants, begging for just one more song.

"thank you, new york city. thank you for having me! madison square garden, you will forever be my favorite! from the bottom of my heart, thank you! be safe getting home! and remember to pick up after yourselves! goodnight!"

shifting your body, you begin to exit the stage. your crew flies forward, swarming you with congratulations as the stadium lights fill the venue, affirming the end of the show.

shaking your head, you graciously accept a bottle of water from your manager, nearly downing it. furrowing your brow, you can't help but notice the expression plaguing her features.

"come on hun, let's get you to the dressing room."

"what about abel?"

"we'll call him later," your manager waves a hand, almost dismissing the fact that you just performed with one of the largest artists in the world, "he let me know that he was on a tight schedule anyway. i'm sure he'll have some free time later on."

"are you--"

"i'm sure," she interjects, "come on now, let's go."

as she leads you down the maze of hallways, security in tow, you can't help but sense that there something slightly off. the energy all around was bursting with electricity. yet, it wasn't tense.

it was almost as if she was bursting with a secret she could no longer keep the way her cheeks were dusted pink. it didn't help her case that she was swaying slightly, almost fidgeting.

the walk to the dressing room felt like it was an eternity, the hallways never-ending. it was one turn after another, but you finally made it. however, before you can enter the room, your manager darts forward, her hand wrapping around the knob.

"allow me."

"is everything okay?" your heart is racing, thudding against your rib-cage as she nods, a little too fervently.

pushing the door, the two of you enter the room. however, your manager leaves the door propped open, rather than closing it shut. taking your hand, she almost tugs you toward the array of couches.

"okay! now close your eyes."

pursing your lips, you cock your head, "can you please tell me what the fuck is going on? you're acting really weird. are you sure everything is okay?"

"y-yes! there's just one last surprise for you! and i can't contain it anymore! i'msorrybutijust--"

"what is it?" you press, "you can't just say something like that and not--"

there's a tap on your shoulder, a brassy yet familiar voice rumbling from behind.

"some performance you put on tonight, miene liebe."

spinning on your heel, you nearly collapse at the sight before you.

toto wolff, team principal of mercedes amg petronas, and well, your boyfriend towers over you, an exquisite bouquet in his grasp.

a sob rises in your throat, and you can't help but melt into his arms. scooping you up into his embrace, he nearly crushes you against his chest, a hand cupping the back of your skull. nuzzling into his polo, you catch the scent of his cologne, tears streaming as strands of german roll of his tongue.

"h-how did you get here?"

a chuckle rumbles in his throat, "i pulled some strings. let's just say it was a work perk."

"i'll give you two some privacy," your manager clears her throat, "just text me in you need anything, hun. we'll let you know when it's time to board the bus."

as she darts out of the room, you raise your head, ensuring that the door was closed. toto hangs onto you, his hands beginning to roam. blinking, you almost study him, the realization that he was actually there starting to sink in.

tonight, he was clad in a dark leather jacket, a crisp white polo stretching across his toned chest. as always, he left the first two buttons undone, a chain glittering as it rested against his collarbone. khakis stretch down his legs, the team principal opting for a pair of loafers.

his brunette locks were swept up into their typical messy updo. he wore a silver watch on his wrist, the piece screaming luxury and wealth.

god, he always dressed so simple. but it was classy, put together. the look of a man with status yet graced with humility.

and that was the type of man toto was.

there was no elaborate story on how the two of you met.

you were introduced to toto wolff through a mutual friend.

and that mutual friend was none other than lewis hamilton.

it was a warm weekend in austin. a brand had invited you to attend the united states grand prix. at the time, you were on the uphill slope of your fame. you were a household name, an opener for the 1975. well-known but not large enough to sell out stadiums. it was a unique tour at the time, as your sound was a tad bit moodier, teetering on that line separating alternative and pop.

little did you know, that weekend would change the entire trajectory of your life.

at first, you were apprehensive about attending. you did like formula one, as your dad was a lifelong fan. yet, this was the first time in your life you were presented with the opportunity to not only watch a grand prix, but witness it from the paddock.

it was an offer you could not refuse.

so, naturally you accepted. the only stipulation was that the brand had to provide two more passes. one for not only your dad, but your mom too. they deserved to experience the weekend just as much as you did. after all, they were the reason you existed.

they were the ones who ignited your passion for music. they were the ones who supported you when you were just throwing together tracks in your bedroom.

so, the three of you flew out to austin. in the airport, you received a notification, from instagram. it was a message request. but not just any message request.

a message request from lewis hamilton.

in the message, he expressed his excitement that you were attending the grand prix, as he was a "big fan." he shared that he hoped to get a moment to introduce himself and show you around the mercedes paddock.

what sort of twenty-one year old would refuse that?

as fate would have it, you got your opportunity to meet with lewis. he showed you around the paddock, providing a full, in-depth tour of the garage as well. of course, you were a flustered, giggly mess.

never in your life would you have dreamed that you would be on lewis' arm, cracking jokes with the seven-time world champion.

and that is when you met toto wolff.

that weekend, he was a tad stressed. mercedes was not quite performing to their caliber, and the press was churning out headlines left and right. and with max verstappen completely dominating the track, the dream of another constructor's title was slipping away with each passing day.

the team principal was deeply invested in a conversation with his engineers when this giggle filled his ears. it was airy and light, reminiscent of a summer breeze. it only grew louder and louder, toto figuring that lewis was wooing another model.

however, as she came around the corner, toto realized that he was fucked.

completely and utterly fucked.

you were wearing a pair of light denim jeans, paired with a plain black short sleeve shirt. the material was smooth, hugging your frame in all of the right places. it was slightly cropped, as he could see the soft skin of your abdomen whenever you raised an arm or waved.

your hair was put together in a simple do, one for comfort and long-wear. from where he was, he could pick out the gleam of jewelry, with numerous rings on your fingers. you were wearing a plain pair of shoes, opting for comfort.

you were wearing makeup, the tones and hues accentuating your striking features.

and god, when you turned, facing him, toto swore he was done for.

however, it would be weeks before the team principal could even muster up the courage to ask lewis for your number. well, he had to do some eavesdropping at the grand prix to make sure lewis had your number in the first place. once that was knowledge was secured, he decided to act.

at first, the british driver was intrigued, confused on why his boss wanted his new friend's number. it didn't take very long for lewis to register what was happening. well, the way toto was stuttering and blushing did help.

however, across the ocean, you were working on an ep.

not just any ep.

an ep produced by the weeknd.

following austin, lewis was able to provide you with some connections. who knew that a formula one driver had so much access to the industry? regardless, you were extremely grateful for lewis' help.

and from there, the rest was history.

well, at least the fame.

coined america's princess, it was difficult for toto wolff to avoid you. he saw you nearly everywhere. on social media. in advertisements. at the paddock during race weekends.

since you were so close with lewis, you were starting to make more appearances in the mercedes garage.

which worked out in toto's favor.

although he did have your number saved in his phone, he wanted to get to know you first. the real you, in person. not over text. so whenever he was given the chance, he would strike up a conversation with you in the garage. sometimes he would take an early lunch just so he could catch you in hospitality.

then there was the night in brackley.

during a slight break in your tour, lewis invited you over to brackley for a weekend away in the countryside. you were a little burnt out, aching for some change in scenery. the nights on the bus were growing a little too long. the days were starting to blur together.

you ended up booking the quickest flight overseas, ready to just spend some time away from it all. it only took eleven hours and you were at the mercedes headquarters, laughing harder than you imagined possible. lewis introduced you to george, the two of you hitting it off instantly.

who knew that a popstar and two formula one drivers would be such a good mix?

before you knew it, lewis was suggesting drinks. george was on board, goading you to join them for a few rounds at a local pub about twenty minutes from the headquarters. it would just be a few shots, something to take your mind off things.

one thing lead to another, and you somehow ended up in the passenger seat of toto's luxurious coupe.

well, lewis and george were there too. the team principal did not expect to spend his night babysitting, but it was better than waking up to a tabloid headline in the morning. the team principal drove all three of you straight to his sprawling mansion. he ordered the boys to the guest rooms, while he helped you to his bed.

well, it was more like he carried you to his bed.

he maintained his distance, although every fiber of his being desperately wanted to touch you. to finally relish the softness of your skin. to hold you close. to feel you against him.

he maintained his composure. actually, he was quite proud of himself for keeping it together.

that was until you uttered those four words.

"stay with me, please."

it only took two steps until he was right there in that bed with you, burrowing under the covers so that you could nestle into chest. you fell asleep instantly, your lips parted ever so slightly.

and in that moment, toto had never seen anything so beautiful. so ethereal.

and that was how your relationship started. it was not an easy feat, as social media speculated. fans lurked, attempting to snap photos of you with your mystery man. the internet was full of sleuths, and they went to great lengths to puzzle the pieces together.

of course, there were a few moments in which you both slipped up.

every grand prix was excruciating. you couldn't even be in the same room as toto without the fans spreading wildfire. you had to be careful about what photos you posted. you had to dance around questions in interviews, the reporters desperate to divulge the truth. you were constantly hounded by the public on whether or not you were in a relationship.

who was he? what did he look like? how old was he? what did he do for work? was he in the industry? was it abel? or lewis? the two of you were pretty close. maybe it really was him all this time.

yet, you wouldn't share those private details. not until you were ready. there were people who knew, but it was only a select few. only those in your inner circle.

one day, the world would know who america's princess was dating.

sure, you were ready to share. you were chomping at the bit, actually. you wantd the world to know that you were dating toto wolff, team principal of amg petronas.

but were you ready for the storm that would follow? could you handle all of the press? the accusations on social media? the way people would talk about you?

would you lose your crown?

as you lay your head on his chest, toto's fingers dancing along your jawline, down to your neck, you can't help but shake this nagging sensation.

someone had to have seen toto at the show.

you didn't know who, but someone must have spotted him. there was no way you could miss him.

"something on your mind? you're rather quiet."

his voice breaks through the silence, grounding you back to earth. you shake your head, clearing your throat.

"i'm fine. just tired from the show, that's all. i'm not ready to leave you either."

"i know, my love," toto exhales, pressing a tender kiss to your temple, "we'll be together soon. only a few more weeks."

as the words fade in your ear, there's a ding on the table. licking your lips, you sit up, reaching for your phone. it was more than likely a text from your manager, or a message from your mom congratulating you on the concert.

however, as the screen lights up, your jaw goes slack, the phone nearly sliding out of your grasp.

it was a notification from X, several of them actually.

your fingers tremble as your eyes scan over the post. sensing your distress, toto straightens up, wrapping an arm around your shoulder.

"what's going on? tell me what's -- oh fuck."

the post was a photo of the two of them. it was grainy, but it was no use. all of the evidence was there.

it was a photo of the two of you after a night out. a series, actually. you couldn't quite distinguish where you were, but you could make out that it was you. with him.

your bodies intertwined, back against the passenger door of his car. one hand was shoved underneath your shirt, the other wrapped around the base of your neck, the world crumbling away as your mouth found his.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

[lo1k-diamonds]

A woman's best friend 💜

PAIRING: Taehyung x (f)reader

SUMMARY: When you met, you and Taehyung hit it off instantly, becoming the closest of friends. You thought he was off-limits. Meanwhile, he’s been begging for a chance to put an end to your friendship.

WORD COUNT: 7,004 

GENRE: friends to ?, smut

RATING: R (explicit)

WARNINGS: mutual pining, dirty talk, body worship, nipple play, oral (both), rough, sweet, bittersweet, mentions of alcohol, talks about Tae's sexuality

A.N. I heard Fri(end)s and had the idea for this fic... I love this song sooooo much 💜 Thanks to @downbad4yoongi for the beta read! Thank you to @eerieedits for the awesome banner 💜 Edited as I prepare a part 2 😋

Masterlist | Scroll my stories on Tumblr | Schedule and WIPs | AO3 | Wattpad

“Fuck, what I wouldn't give for cock right now.”

Your voice came out in a low groan right before you brought your cold beer bottle to your lips to take a few swigs. The TV was blaring a new episode of Physical:100, and you understood everyone’s obsession with Amotti’s body. For you, it was the lack of sex mixed with alcohol, hormones, and being exposed to hot guys on the TV on a Saturday night. Well, and in real life.

You looked at Taehyung out of the corner of your eye. He had taken off his black leather jacket, but his tight white shirt accentuated his chest and wide shoulders. His dark eyes had jumped to yours at your words, but he was drinking his beer and didn’t stop. He was very handsome, something you noticed the moment you met him during photography class when he asked you for help with a project. Your heart had fluttered hard but had since calmed down — he didn’t look at you that way. He was there to admire Amotti’s abs with you. 

At least you had a friend to share these debaucheries with.

“I mean,” he voiced as soon as his lips were free. “I have one right here.”

You threw your head back, laughing, “I know.” You made sure to tap his chest playfully before reaching for another cherry in a bowl on the coffee table, pulling it from the stem between your teeth. “But you know…”

He was looking at you with his usual nonchalance, with legs spread, beer in his hand, and completely relaxed into your couch, but his eyebrow twitched.

So you nodded, “Alright, let me put it better.” You suddenly realized you could be offending him somehow: it was not because a person with a cock was present that they would want to have anything to do with you. So you corrected yourself, “What I’d give for a good fucking.”

He nodded, seemingly understanding, and you smiled, turning to the TV again. You were happy your friendship was like this; you were used to talking about who you were attracted to and helping each other out, and you could openly comment on your thirst. It was perfect.

“Still applies.”

You turned to look at him so quickly that you almost got whiplash. Your eyes were wide, and your mouth blabbered before you could think, “What? But I helped you get it on with what’s his name a few months back.”

Your head was spinning; you were so confused. That night out had been the proverbial nail in the coffin of your secretly harbored hope. 

“Yeah, so?” His voice was monotone at best. “I’m pansexual.”

Your eyes widened comically as your cheeks flushed red. “Oh… I… I…”

“Assumed?” He raised an eyebrow again, and you were flustered but still noticed him fidgeting, with his knee jumping repeatedly.

“Well… Yeah, kind of,” you admitted, with shame forcing your eyes down. Amotti showed on the TV again, and you glanced. “You only ever talk about guys in front of me.”

You knew it before it was out of your mouth that it was a lame excuse, and he did too because he scoffed, “Yeah, well. What else do you want to talk about?”

“That’s not fair,” you complained, frowning with embarrassment burning your chest.

“Didn’t think you’d be interested in hearing my thoughts on women.”

He was looking away now, and you could hear a tinge of bitterness, and it pricked your heart. 

“Tae, that’s not true,” you insisted, reaching to put a hand on his arm so he’d look at you. Was that resentment? It hurt you deeply. “I want to hear your thoughts about everything,” you admitted with a shy smile, and his eyes softened. “And I wish we could talk about anything. I mean, look at what I just said.”

His lips twitched before he reached to catch your hand in his. He couldn’t see you sad, especially not about something like this. It could be that you had the wrong impression because he never bothered clarifying, and that was on him, too. The reason he was deeper in his feelings for you than he had ever been with anyone else was you saying things like those and treating him like that. It was the reason he had canceled his weekend plans to be with you last minute, it was why he wanted to hold your hand, and at long last, why he was done being just friends with you.

“Fair. You’re right,” he relented, turning on the couch to you more comfortably. “Sorry, that’s not why.”

Your eyebrows furrowed, and you braved through it. “Why, then? Why haven’t we ever discussed this before?”

It would have been so easy to deflect or act offended about his sexuality even being a topic of conversation, but he wasn’t doing that. He was putting the cards on the table tonight.

“I thought… You were so open-minded and welcomed me to join your friends and… I thought that if you knew, you’d treat me differently. Like just any other guy, and then we wouldn’t have become friends.”

“Tae…” You shook your head lightly, disappointment pulling the corners of your lips. He thought that of you?

“I also needed your help with that midterm project, so it was a life-or-death situation.”

He said it sheepishly, caressing your hand in his, and you chuckled, “That was so long ago.”

He nodded, lowering his eyes to your hands, and you kept a sigh from coming out. Maybe you were wrong to presume, but it was easily done when he blended in so easily with your group of girlfriends. Not because he wasn’t manly, but because he acted with grace and care and had no qualms holding your hand or showing affection when most guys wouldn’t be caught dead doing that to a friend.

You nodded. “I thought we became friends…”

“We did,” he agreed, though his voice was an octave lower.

“So can, or can I not, say I’m craving a good fucking?” You squeezed his hand with a grin on your face before bringing your beer to your lips again. You didn’t care about his sexuality, and you’d been friends for so long that you couldn’t read more into his actions, even if you wanted to delude yourself. 

You had hoped to lighten the mood and get back on topic, and you did. Sort of.

“You can always say it,” he mused, eying you with a darker look in his eyes once they locked with yours. “The question is: do you want to do something about it?”

“What can I do about it?” you asked with amusement before taking another swig.

“Fuck me.”

You would have choked if you hadn’t already swallowed. Instead, you gaped at him with eyes like a deer caught in headlights. “What?”

“I’m down if that’s what you want.”

You blinked for a second, taking in his casual demeanor as he sat on your couch, totally chill. Then you grabbed a pillow and swatted him right across the face.

He jumped in place, checking if he hadn’t spilled anything over the couch or himself. “What?!”

“What what?” you asked, pulling the pillow and throwing it away on the floor so he’d check on himself comfortably.

“What was that for?!”

“I’m being serious, and you’re messing around!”

You couldn’t help your blushing cheeks, but you could keep things casual by taking a bit of inspiration from him.

You just didn’t expect him to fidget in his spot with a pout, “I’m not messing around, I’m serious.”

You grimaced, shaking your head in disbelief, not even able to contemplate such an outlandish thought.

But he stayed put looking at you, as laid-back as always, and you sobered up a little. That was him being serious.

“You… You’d—” You swallowed, annoyed by your hesitation. “You’d fuck me?”

“Fuck yeah.”

His reply was instantaneous, and he bit the inside of his bottom lip. Maybe he shouldn’t have said that. Or better yet, said it like that. It wasn’t like that was all he wanted to do. It wasn’t like he was proposing a one-night stand, for you to become fuck buddies, or— What was he even suggesting?

“Well,” you spoke up before he could chastise himself internally. He could only look at you with bated breath. “Even if you’re into women, I never thought you’d… be into me.”

It could have made his head spin, but instead, he sat more upright and frowned. “Why not?”

“I’m not all fit and pretty and shit.”

You were mumbling with your eyes on the floor, and he had to keep himself from scoffing. “Are you serious? There is nothing wrong with how you look.”

“No, just—” You glanced at him and instantly knew you wouldn’t be able to explain it properly. Or, better yet, that he’d never let you have your way. So instead, you huffed and rubbed your face, “Ugh, but… you always see me bare-faced and—”

“Fuck if that matters.” He shook his head, more irritated than you thought he’d be. “You know damn well none of that matters. You look good without makeup, your curves are crazy, and you have other attributes that top it all off.”

You couldn’t help laughing and pulling your legs under you as you got more comfy. The action got you closer to him, but you didn’t mind that. You were pretty convinced he was just messing around. “Like what? My wonderful personality?”

He smiled; he liked seeing you laughing and even more that you were leaning into him, with your arms and his pressed together. “I was going to say a significant chest size, but your personality is wonderful.” You burst out laughing, hiding in his shoulder, and although he liked you being relaxed and touchy with him, he wanted you to truly hear it. “I mean that.”

“Yeah, right!” You managed to say, still laughing. “Did we drink too much?”

You were grinning and shook your nearly empty bottle before putting it on the coffee table. You sat back, still leaning into him, and saw worry on his face for the first time. “Have you? If you have, then this conversation stops here.”

“I only had one bottle…”

“Me too.”

He raised it as if to imply it was that one and took it to his lips to finish it in one go. The gesture gave you a time-off from his gaze and allowed you to try to process what you two were talking about. You knew him well enough to gather he wasn’t pranking you, but you were unsure where that landed the two of you. You couldn’t possibly reevaluate your interactions, talks, and bond under this new light. That wouldn’t be justified, and regardless, you wanted his friendship. You wanted him in your life, by your side, being a part of everything, while you made sure to be a part of his everything.

He leaned to put his empty bottle next to yours before sitting back, “Would you fuck me?”

His tone was neutral, and suddenly, your stomach lurched. Fucking wasn’t the word on the top of your head, but that wasn’t what you two were talking about.

You scoffed. “I’m not fucking blind.”

“What does that matter? I’m asking you seriously.”

His gaze had all the certainty someone as handsome and amazing as he could have. Your instinct was to cover your face before your feelings could be easily read and groan, “Ughhh.”

“What?” He sat closer, facing you, though your legs were already touching.

“I don’t know!”

“You don’t know what?”

“Ughhhh!”

“Yes or no, come on!”

“Ughhhh!”

You couldn’t see how frustrated he was becoming. Why were you groaning into your palms instead of answering his very important question?

He called your name, you groaned, and he almost tried ripping your hands away. Instead, he brushed your arms. “Speak! Come on, use words! Why don’t you just say it? Yes or no? Must be a no if you’re—”

“Shut up!!” You exploded, revealing your wide, glistening eyes and pink cheeks. He was surprised. “Why?? Because it could ruin our friendship!”

“Saying if you’d fuck me or not will not ruin our friendship, even if it’s a no.”

Your face scrunched up in a mix between a plea and worry, but your lips remained sealed. He let his head fall back with a sigh, then faced you again.

“You know what might?” He paused, waiting for you to raise your eyes to him. That was all he needed to spill it out, “Saying that I want to give you the fucking you’re craving.”

You clenched around nothing, with a burn spreading down your chest. You couldn’t even blink away from his stare, locked as you were. Instead, you swallowed, and he continued as if spurred by your silence.

“Fuck you into a slobbering mess, and right now, I can think of like five different ways of doing it.”

You blinked, and that was the extent of your capabilities. He raked his fingers through his dark hair, and your only thought was how easy that would have been — you, a drooling mess in whatever one of those five ways. You only needed one, and it didn’t even need to be that complicated. He could start with his fingers in your mouth and—

“Starting by taking that stupid bra off and licking your n—”

You squealed and reached to cover his mouth with your hand. Your cheeks burned; thinking it and saying it were two very different things!

He grabbed your wrist and pulled it away, uncovering his mouth but choosing silence. And you realized that saying something could only make it worse. You had gotten on your knees and were almost straddling him at this point. He had stayed put and, funnily enough, your deep breaths were raising and lowering your chest closer to him. He seemed to notice this too because his eyes roamed over your legs, your shorts, your white top, your chest, your neck, and finally made it to your eyes. You didn’t just watch him attentively observing you, you felt it in the tingles tracing you under his gaze, as though you needed to feel him somehow.

The tension was climbing up your spine, reminding you to move your neck just a little to release it, making your long hair fall over your chest instead. The simple motion was enough to draw his eyes and tighten your nipples, and your underwear clung further to you. 

His eyes on yours had you shuddering, and his thumb rubbing the skin on your wrist only amplified it. “Just say the word. If that’s what you want, just say the word.”

The last drop was his velvety voice. That wonderful, trust-inducing, hypnotizing, delicious voice that you’d follow to the end of the world.

You were already nodding, and you still managed to hoarsely voice, “Yes.”

His eyes read your lips, but he didn’t move, and you faltered. You were unaware of how you were leaning into him, eyes fixed on his lips, absolutely bewitched. At that moment, all your hesitation melted away as you licked your lips. You were not beyond asking for a taste when he shortened the distance between you in the blink of an eye, making you gasp.

His big, warm hand instantly reached your jaw, supporting your head gently. His lips grazing yours with the utmost softness were what convinced you to close your eyes. Screw the shock trying to freeze you and steal this opportunity from you. You pressed his lips harder, removing any hesitation from what you were doing — you wanted this.

You wanted Taehyung’s kiss. You wanted to feed your curiosity, give sense to the fantasies sprouting in your head when you were lonely and heated, and learn what that forbidden fruit tasted like. 

Truthfully, you thought your lips were the only way to feel and taste him because, at any moment, it would all end. But as he kissed you back, matching your eager curiosity, you sighed. You succumbed to grabbing his dark hair in your fists, breathing in shakily when his hands framed your waist without an ounce of reluctance. You kept fearing you were acting crazy, that he would push you back and laugh this off as being drunk. It was why you couldn’t stop pressing him closer, sighing into his mouth every time his hands moved on your curves, licking against his tongue when it dared teasing you, and nibbling his bottom lip whenever he dared to stray.

You hardly noticed when he moved on the couch because his lips never left yours. And whether he’d pull you to his lap or lay you under him, it mattered little as long as he didn’t stop. All he did was kneel on the couch in front of you, kissing you harder. His fingertips touched the skin just beneath the hem of your top, and you brought them further up your sides under the fabric. You were breathing heavily just at the feel of his wide hands exploring the expanse of your stomach, but when he reached your bra, your breath hitched. His words were still burning inside you, making you clench at the thought.

You opened your eyes and found him looking at you, puffy lips bruising yours as he sneaked his fingertips under the bra, digging gently into the supple skin. His tongue peeked, licking your lips slowly in a tease as his thumbs brushed your hard nipples over the fabric, and you groaned.

You didn’t care anymore; you were irrational. Yes, you had covered his mouth out of embarrassment before — the embarrassment of how much you wanted him to do what he was saying, and now he would. You were a train about to derail, and nothing could stop you.

His dark eyes were still locked with yours as you squirmed to unclasp your bra at your back, trying to get rid of it. As soon as you did and the fabric no longer protected you, he leaned down and licked through your white top, finding a nipple all too easily. You squirmed but pressed his head to your chest, ignoring the bra almost around your neck, looking to feel exactly what he wanted to do to you.

He, on the other hand, found the bra obstructing the view of your face contorting in pleasure annoying and got rid of it quickly by passing one of the strips down your arm. You were so immersed in gripping his hair and feeling him lick and pinch your nipples that you didn’t even notice. Only when he caught your lips again, grabbing and squeezing both breasts hungrily, did you notice there was no bra anymore, only your moan inside his mouth. He was devouring your whimpers, drinking every sigh as you enjoyed his hands on you, unable to hide it.

His lips trailed down your jaw and neck, and you squirmed, disliking what you thought was a growing distance between you two. Instead, it made you realize that he had kneeled on the floor in front of you and that his hands were squeezing your sides before dragging your top up. His open-mouth kisses between your breasts gave you goosebumps, making you eager to roll your hips against him, but it was when his hands cupped your breasts and squeezed them to his face that you moaned, melting between your legs.

“Tae,” you breathed a moan, half in wonder, half in a plea. You wanted him to have you like you never wanted anything else before.

His name on your lips wantonly like that made his dark eyes flick to yours in what you believed was a line being crossed. He pulled the top above your head, parting from your chest only the time needed for this, before finally licking and biting your nipples, squeezing and groping whatever his mouth couldn’t catch. Your moans were shooting pure desire through his veins, especially as you let your head fall back to enjoy. Your nails were holding onto his shirt by his shoulders, not trying to stop him as he traced your hips and played with the hem of your shorts, but quite simply letting his mouth work you up.

You squirmed beneath him to let him drag your clothes off and barely contained a squeal at his mouth trailing lower. You were feverish, wet, hot, absolutely derailed not just with the view but with the anticipation. This was why you almost keened when, feeling him kiss your legs down to your knees, you looked down. Your panties were still on, and he was pecking your skin, feeling the smoothness of your legs with his hands before stopping. His eyes fixed on yours, glistening with just as much desire, but then his eyebrows twitched.

You were already exposed, winded, flushed, dazed, and there was only one thing you wanted. “Are you going to eat me?”

“If you let me.”

“Please,” you breathed, raising your knees to your chest in an offering.

The corners of his mouth curved as though you had promised him candy, and he didn’t hesitate to lean in. His nose rubbed at your clothed center, and just him breathing deeply before nuzzling the skin around your panties made you hold in a shaky sigh. You would fall apart so easily if he kept teasing you like that. Your legs were trembling, you could barely take in enough oxygen, and then he pressed his lips to you. A quiet groan stayed inside your chest as though the very sound could distract you from his kiss. It was both breathtaking and short of a tease to feel him pressing, grazing his lips across your covered slit, nuzzling your core to maddening effects. You couldn’t help your squirm or your hand shooting to his head with your request, and he obliged.

As though he was done with waiting, the same as you, he pulled the fabric aside and dove in. His groan was subtle, covering you with goosebumps right before you lost all sense and fell back. You didn’t know if it was the anticipation, the fantasy becoming reality, or the sheer hunger, but it floored you. His hands pressed your legs harder, almost as if he couldn’t let you get away, and he groaned. You felt it deep inside you, right as his tongue collected your slick on his way to your clit. He licked over it in waves, driving you to squeeze your eyes shut, barely afloat. You bucked your hips to increase the friction, and he pressed his face harder, letting you feel the tip of his nose, tongue, and lips in open-mouthed kisses. 

But whenever you thought the searing burn would snap your coil and you would peak, he drew back. You didn’t realize your push and pull, lulling yourself to his rhythm, until a louder whimper of yours drew him to cup your ass and raise you to his mouth. He latched on, keeping a steel rhythm on your clit that was impossible to deny, regardless of how much you tried to writhe and keen. Your core burned with how tense you were, a sensation so consuming that you stopped breathing. You wanted the moment it sparked and covered you ablaze, and it did.

You melted from that point on, trembling and moaning so hard that you lost touch as you came. Taehyung’s mouth was latched to your core, lavishly mouthing you as you wiggled and squirmed, grabbing onto his hair so crudely, it probably hurt him. Yet he groaned, sucked and breathed you in, and you wanted it even harder. Your peak dissolved despite your wishes, and although you had to pull him away so he wouldn’t hurt you, the vision that met you was shattering.

The sight of him covered in your cum was like nothing you had imagined, quite simply because it was real. He was really kneeling between your legs, kissing your inner thighs, with his hair tucked in your grasp. Your legs were still trembling as you panted, and you wanted only to relax into the pillows with your much-sought release. Yet in an instant, you realized that was not what you wanted after all.

You pulled him to you as you lowered your legs to give him space, wrapping them around his waist. He let you, almost caught off balance, but you left no margin for errors. You grabbed onto his shirt for good measure and crashed his mouth to yours, kissing him with as much hunger as you could muster in your dazed, satisfied haze. You didn’t want to leave it there, and if licking your cum out of his mouth didn’t convey this, then you didn’t know what did.

Taehyung kissed you back, smiling almost tenderly before scrunching up his nose at your tongue tickling him. Yet, despite your glued cores, he wasn’t trying anything else. He wasn’t pushing or exploring you anymore, and you would have cowered if it wasn’t for the bulge pressed to you.

You rolled over him, getting him to sit on the couch before pulling away to kneel between his legs. No way he could eat you like that if he didn’t like it or was turned on, and you weren’t over your curiosity. You wouldn’t stop until you had hit all stops.

“I always wondered,” you started, reaching your hands inside his shirt so you could scratch down his chest. “What it would be like for you to touch me.” You licked your lips as he smiled. “To touch you,” you mused, reaching his flat stomach. “For you to want me.” Your hands cupped the bulge in his pants, and you shuddered at the harness twitching back. “Like I want you.”

You were brimming with desire and knew he was, too, when he reached to grab your hair and crash your mouths together. To your surprise, he didn’t pull or push you in one direction or the other; it was as though he simply wanted to kiss you. If anything, he only hardened under your hand.

You couldn’t think about what that meant, only that you wanted to continue and fulfill all your dreams tonight. You unbuckled his belt and opened his pants, and he helped you get them and the boxers off. Your chin almost fell in awe at the imposing cock before you, so hard and stiff it was pointing at you. So close to your face, it could only have been an invitation.

You touched it tentatively, feeling the soft, warm skin covering lengthy veins from base to top. Its puffy pink tip was the perfect size for you to lick, and you did. There was usually an order to these things, but not tonight. He looked pretty and hungry, and you wanted to eat him too.

Your tongue only took a taste before you sank your mouth on him. There was no way you could take him whole, as he was already poking the back of your throat, but it didn’t matter. You were there for the experience, for his taste, for that fucked out look on his face as he closed his eyes and let his jaw slack. Taehyung was fucking gorgeous, like the peak of human perfection, and it turned out it was even better when his cock was stuffing your mouth.

You couldn’t stop yourself. Your plans escaped your mind; all that mattered was bobbing your head, lapping your tongue, sucking him, and doing all that with your eyes fixed on his expression. It was the sweetest part of all — he liked it. He was breathing heavily, biting his bottom lip, blushing, and finally fluttering his eyes open. They were like candy; all his strength and power surrendered to your mouth, and you drooled. You finally closed your eyes and let your head fall as deep as you could take him, just to keep him there while you braced yourself for what you wanted.

You pulled away, letting him breathe a groan before facing him. “Said you’d fuck me.”

He blinked, almost stupefied, and you got up from your knees. You moved swiftly to the hallway to search his jacket for what you were looking for, and when you turned around, you almost stumbled. 

Physical: 100 was still on the TV with the contestants showing off their physique, and yet they didn’t even come close to that view. Taehyung was tall, towering over your entire living room as he stood there, naked, hard, with dark, glistening eyes set on you. Not even his disheveled hair or the pants at the bottom of his feet made him look any less heavenly. That view was perfect, and you didn’t allow yourself to think too much about it.

Instead, you waved the condom you had just found, and he nodded, getting rid of the clothes by his ankles in the time it took you to reach him. The moment your hands were cupping his cheeks, he was already pulling you by the waist, eager to hold you and kiss you. He didn't hesitate to feel your curves, reaching your ass to pull you to him, and you molded yourself to him, arching your back into him.

You were dizzy with his attention, with his big hand squeezing your ass while the other gripped your hair to keep you in his kiss. But when he meant to sit down, you pulled him to stay put. You grinned, giving him the condom, then got on the couch on all fours.

You didn't see his surprise, only felt a soothing hand on your ass down your leg. “Are you sure?”

“Yes, please,” you sighed.

It wasn't much of a logical thought, but the idea was to have him in as many positions as you had fantasized. You doubted you'd get far — as soon as he was inside you, all ideas would evaporate — but doggy was good to start. You wanted him raw and deep, reaching places inside you no one could. Of course, you couldn’t have him raw, but if he fucked you without holding back, you'd already consider that a win.

Taehyung got on one knee on the couch behind you after covering himself and eyed you. You were vulnerable like that, with your unblemished back arching and long hair falling over your shoulders. He’d like you in any position, but he couldn’t help pursing his lips. He touched your soft skin again, and you wiggled your ass for him, and although he bit it playfully just to make you jump and chuckle, he still second-guessed it.

It felt impersonal. In all of his dreams of you, he rarely pictured being with you like this without at least a mirror so he could see you, so you two could communicate. He wanted to be with you, to feel and watch you writhe in pleasure, in the ways he could make you feel, not to turn your face away so he could use you. If anything, your face was what made it special.

You wiggled your ass again with an impatient sigh, and this time you pleaded, “Please, Tae.”

You looked over your shoulder and saw his expression softening before he got behind you. The feel of his cock brushing your folds had you shaking, but it was his nails scratching down your spine that did it. You fell back on him, unwilling to wait for him, and he let you, groaning. He helped your hips as you wiggled and searched to get him deeper, and as you did, you both sighed.

You could feel him stretching you despite your previous orgasm, and you smiled. In another circumstance, you’d just enjoy the show without thinking much of it, but just the fact that it was Taehyung turned you on again. And when he started moving, he delivered.

It wasn’t just his hips smacking yours, the crown of his cock teasing your cervix and making you groan and curl your nails on the couch armrest. It was the way he held your waist, leaned over you to peck over your spine, and responded to every reaction of yours. You mewled and tried fucking into him? He fucked you harder, adjusting the angle so you’d keen mindlessly. You moaned and hid in the pillows, feeling so tense you didn’t know your name? He reeled back, slowing down his thrusts to let you breathe. You whimpered and called his name? He was instantly all over you, kissing your neck near your ear, asking if you were okay without ever stopping giving you what you wanted.

You looked over your shoulder, meeting his eyes as he kissed your skin there, and you thought that was impossible. You knew Taehyung was attentive, but that bordered on perfection, and you didn't know how to deal with that.

“Harder,” you whispered, glistening eyes boring into his.

“Are you sure?”

You grinned. “Said you’d leave me a slobbering mess.”

“You sure look like it,” he teased, and you laughed. You knew you were drooling onto the couch, but you also knew he was holding back.

“Give everything to me.” You sighed, and your lightness earned you a nod.

The second he pulled away, you wondered if you knew what you asked for, and the second he showed you, you knew you did. He grabbed your hair in a fist to keep your back arched, and your mind melted. The way he rutted into you, holding your waist so you’d stay in position to take every thrust, only made you whimper and moan louder. He felt so good it was unbearable; how did he reach deeper and harder when you thought you were at your limit? His groans, his scent, his nails piercing your skin to hold you in place; you could barely function in the frenzy.

You knew you were tightening because his focus was faltering, but when he stopped, staying buried deep inside you, you were worried. 

“Tae?” you asked, trying to swallow the dizziness and figure out why that stairway to heaven had suddenly halted.

“I can’t—” His voice was a whisper as he tried regaining his breath. “I’ll cum.”

Your eyebrows jumped, and you almost smiled, but you bit your lip to keep it in. “How’s that?”

He was still squishing your flesh in his hands, but he took one hand to brush his sweaty hair out of his eyes, “You’re so tight and warm and—” You clenched involuntarily, and he grabbed and squeezed your ass again. “You fucking tease.”

You stifled a laugh and could swear he’d spank you, but instead, he leaned over you and bit your shoulder. You finally laughed. “Let me ride you.”

He hummed, and instead of answering, he let you take the brunt of his weight as he held your hips. You groaned with the effort, still shuddering at his lips tracing your cheeks to your neck, but then you moaned lavishly. He was pressing himself slowly to you, reaching inside you and twitching, and you thought you’d be too desensitized, but it was the opposite. Your core hugged him, sucking him in with the subtle rolls of your hips, and he groaned into your ear, making you flutter even harder. It was as though he couldn’t help himself, ensuing that small push and pull, enough to get you both crazy.

But you insisted, “Tae.”

And he was off of you in a second. He sat down and helped you turn around and straddle him. You were flushed and covered in sweat, but he didn’t seem to mind. You were so wet you were sliding, and he guided your hips as you grabbed his cock. Just looking at him beneath you, you knew it would feel amazing, but something about staring into his eyes as you sank on him rewired your priorities. Instead of looking to give a show or tease him, you let your chin drop the same as his and reached to hold his head in place. Your nails grazed his skin as you gripped his hair by the back of the nape and rolled your lips to feel him inside you as deeply as possible. His eyebrows knitted as he looked down, and you burned under his gaze, wanting nothing more than for him to feel as good as you did. And by the way that his fingers were digging into your hips and his droopy eyes came back to yours, you knew he did. You knew that every jerk of your hips stole his breath, too, squeezed his tip in your smooth walls, and ground on him in a way that made you hover even though you were sinking.

Your fingers curled around his hair. “I can’t hold— I’ll come—”

If he was surprised at how easily you fell apart, he didn’t let on. You searched for his kiss right before your orgasm swept you away, and he held you, kissing you and receiving your deep moans in his mouth as though it were praise.

You were dizzy when you came down and held onto his shoulders as he grabbed you to lay over you on the couch. A euphoric giggle almost burst out as he pecked and nuzzled every inch of your face — you could swear you were with Taehyung, but that wasn’t—

“Can I finish?” he whispered against your mouth, and you opened your eyes.

Taehyung was really holding you in his arms, balls deep inside you, smiling with a hint of amusement.

You nodded, and he hummed. “Sure you had your fill?”

You shuddered, aware of the state of things. No.

You’d never have a proper fill because you didn’t want it to end. But as reality would have it, Taehyung was just fucking you. Just like you asked.

So you nodded and kissed him, refusing to let those feelings surface right now. You started, you’d finish. The final destination was just ahead; you had to know what he felt like when he came deep inside you.

He kissed you back and restarted the sweet movement of his hips, and you sighed. He held your legs high so you could wrap them around him and grabbed onto your hair to keep your chin up. You could barely breathe without a moan, and looking into his eyes while he fucked you made it all the harder. His lips were parted for soft sighs, and you squirmed under him, adjusting your hips. It was enough for him to falter and let you hide in his chest. You breathed him in, biting down on the soft flesh out of sheer frustration. He felt so good you could lose yourself again, but that wouldn’t happen. He wasn’t yours.

Still, his love felt like heaven. So when he pulled your head up again to face him, you did. You moaned your pleasure so he’d know how amazing he felt, scratched him closer, and looked into his eyes just like he wanted. In an instant, he groaned, and his hips faltered. He crashed into you, kissing you between stifled moans before he nuzzled your neck and stilled.

You hugged him to you with your eyes closed, taking deep breaths. He was breathing down your neck, recovering, and you matched him, feeling deeply every time your nose picked up a mix of his cologne with the sex scent still in the air. For as long as that lasted, you were free of thoughts and worries.

But then he got up, pulling out of you to get rid of the condom. And although he laid back down next to you, pulling you into his arms with a sweet smile, the spell had been broken. 

You started trembling, and he noticed. He took your fingertips to his lips to kiss them, ready to ask you cheekily if he had given you more than you bargained for when you sniffled.

His heart fell through; he looked at you, and you tried to hide in his chest.

He brushed your hair behind your ear. “Hey.”

You couldn’t face him; your eyes stayed shut so you wouldn’t cry.

“What’s wrong?”

His voice was low and laced with worry, and your heart hurt even more. You didn’t want him to worry; he was just doing what he said he would. He just had no idea how you felt.

You shouldn’t have done this. You were terrified to lose him. Nothing was worth that.

“I don’t want this to ruin our friendship,” you managed to say before a sob shook you. “You’re my best friend.”

Taehyung almost smiled; if he had only heard those words, he would have promised you that nothing was lost. That you two together never spelled just friends in his mind, and that he wanted so much more than that. 

But he could feel you and see you: the lines on your face that spelled the unshed tears, the way you were trembling in his arms, and your refusal to face him.

His heart sank. A storm of questions raged inside his mind — was it him, was it the sex, did he hurt you, was it not what you expected, did you never want this to happen, did you regret it — but he asked none of it. The more you tried to stay put and not cry, the sadder and more certain he became that you were distressed. That you wanted him just as a friend and that nothing he had done had convinced you otherwise.

You opened your tearful eyes. “I don’t want things to change.”

He opened his mouth and then closed it, a lopsided smile showing instead. He couldn’t help eying your lips and regret with his whole heart not having stolen one last kiss to remember you by, to settle his heart, but there was nothing to do about it. Instead, he looked up at your teary gaze and brushed your cheek. “Don’t worry about it.”

[kyotosworld]

just confess already!

pairing: steve rogers x fem!reader 

summary: the team is sick of seeing how in love Steve and you are while you both pretend you’re just friends. 

(the office au: moments when the teams talks to the camera, like in the office)

warning: language, very cute confession at the end

word count: 1.3k

—

“..andd they’re doing it again,” bucky smirks at the camera before motioning it towards you and steve who were sitting way too closely for “friends”

you were both giggling and whispering about something he was showing you on his phone, before you noticed the camera and very badly tried to act normal by clearing your throat and refocusing on your computer.

steve’s brows furrowed for a second as he watched you leave, worried that he might have done something to upset you. before also realizing that the cameras were directed toward you both. leading him to return to his work in a similar clumsy manner as you.

steve could only hope that the camera didn’t catch how long and how longingly he looked at you after you left.

meanwhile, bucky was still smirking at the camera, “ you see what i mean?”

bucky of course was referring to the ongoing belief of everyone in the office—but you and steve—that you guys were dating.

—

“they need to confess already. i'm sick of the heart eyes,” natasha says before fake gagging. “but seriously, the only people they’re fooling are themselves.”

while natasha was talking to the camera, you and steve were in the office kitchen proving her exactly right. 

“have you heard the…rumors floating around the office?” you ask nervously, while holding a cold water bottle, and standing beside steve as he looks into the fridge for a snack.

at that, he froze because yeah he had heard them but he was also too scared to talk about it with you. then in an attempt to act normal, he hit the top of his head on the ceiling of the fridge. 

“shit!” he exclaimed.

“omg, are you okay?” you wince before putting down your water bottle and checking his head. 

he has his hands on the spot he hit like that’ll help ease the pain, which of course it doesn’t. so, in an attempt to do something other than just watch him in pain, you pick up your cold water, gently move his hands from his injury, and place the bottle against it. 

“there, that should help.” you say softly while still holding the bottle against his head. you’re too focused on easing his pain to notice the way steve is looking at you.

—

“oh those two? we’re still talking about them?” tony asks, “that’s old news. instead, lets focus on me–”

— 

“aww they’re soo cute i cant wait for them to realize!” wanda says excitedly with the biggest smile on her face. she’s a sweetheart.

—

“what, when did this happen? why did no one tell me?!” thor asked with a frown, being the clueless himbo that he was ♡. 

his smile reforms as an idea forms in head, “i must congratulate them!” he exclaims while getting up.

the camera follows thor out of the room and into the main office where steve and you were actually focused on your work for once. 

“CONGRATULATIONS ON THE RELATIONSHIP DEAR MORTALS!” thor yells as he pulls you two into a tight hug. drawing the attention of the rest of the team.

“what?” you ask, gasping but laughing when thor finally lets you out of the bone crushing hug. 

“you and steve! you know i always suspected, but wasn’t a hundred percent sure. why didn’t you tell me?” he questions, getting a bit sad again.

 this time steve pipes up, “you ‘always suspected’ what?” he asks in confusion.

honestly he was getting a bit nervous. you both were, thinking somehow your crush for the other got out and that’s what thor knew.  

but the truth surprised you guys even more, “that you’re dating of course!”

at this, you and steve look at eachother wide eyed and flushed for a moment before looking back at thor. 

“where did you get that information from, thor?” you ask. 

“well apparently, everyone knew but me.” he looks down, “no one ever tells me anything.” 

you guys look around at the rest of the team with surprised looks on your faces, “really?” steve asks, perplexed.

a collection of nods and “yeah”s spread around the room.

clint speaks up, “i honestly thought you guys were engaged already.”

—

after all of that, you and steve kind of avoided each other for a bit. feeling too awkward after the news you both had heard.

but that only lasted for about an hour before you both ended up in the break room at the same time. 

you walked in, distracted, looking down and counting the coins in your hand to see if you had enough for the chips you were craving. due to this, you failed to notice that someone else was in the room with you.

“oh, hi.” steve spoke up, surprised to see you. 

you jump and look up to find steve sitting at a table across the room.

“hi,” you stop in your tracks, surprised and suddenly nervous at the sight of him.

you both stood there for a bit, staring at each other, not knowing what to say.  

“soo–”

“umm–” 

“you go first!”

“no you!” you insist.

“i was just going to ask if uh we’re okay?” steve asks nervously. 

“yeah.” you reply quickly, “why wouldn't we be?” you ask, trying really hard to act normal and like you weren't affected by today's news in the slightest.

but of course steve saw right through it, right through you as he stared at you for a moment before responding, “i'm sorry that things are weird now, and it's all my fault and i totally understand if you don't wanna be friends anymore–” 

“what?!” you interrupt immediately, “steve, of course i don't want to stop being friends.” you say sincerely looking deep into his eyes. 

“and if anything, it's both our faults for being together all the time, no wonder they thought we were together.” you finish while pulling up a chair next to him. 

steve chuckles and shakes his head at that before getting serious again, “so we're good?”

“yes. we’re good.” you smile, causing him to do the same, “plus their assumption didn’t bother me too much…” you looked down as you said the last part.

“what.” steve’s head turns towards you swiftly, he couldn't have heard you correctly, right?

“what? it's not like you’re the worst guy ever. and i guess it's not the worst thing that they saw us as a couple.” you try to answer nonchalantly but are still avoiding his eyes. 

this time, steve’s lips upturned a little, noticing your nervousness, “so you think i'm ‘not the worst guy ever’ huh?” 

you look up and notice he looks a bit amused. “oh shut up, you know what i mean.” you playfully shove his side with your shoulder. 

“no no, i really don't. please. explain it to me.” he jokingly but also somehow convincingly insisted. 

figuring that you weren’t gonna be able to leave this place if you didn’t just admit it, you very speedily say, “fine. you’re an attractive guy and you’re funny and really kind and anyone would be lucky to have you.” at the end of that you let out a breath you didn't know you were holding in. 

it’s quiet for a moment and when you finally look back at steve he’s smiling softly at you. “i feel the same.”

“you think i’m an attractive guy?” you tease.

“you know what i mean.” he whispers, still smiling.

“i think i do.” you say softly while leaning closer towards him.

but of course thor had to walk by right when steve closed the gap between you two. 

“i knew it! they are dating!!” thor yells as he runs towards the main office. 

[forlix]

𝘀𝘂𝗯𝘁𝗲𝘅𝘁・l.f.

— in which you forget that your hot housemate follows you on twitter.

𝘄𝗼𝗿𝗱𝘀・1.1k 𝗽𝗮𝗶𝗿𝗶𝗻𝗴・roommate!felix x gn!streamer!reader 𝗴𝗲𝗻𝗿𝗲𝘀・fluff, flirting, kind of an smau, implied friends to lovers, humor if u count jeongin being a piece of shit

𝗮/𝗻・saw this tweet the other day and it was so painfully lix coded that i knew i had to write something asap. contains a tiny bit of gaming jargon but is hopefully comprehensible. ENJOY ♡

y/n ꒰ᐢ. .ᐢ꒱₊˚⊹ @ y/nxx

if someone brings you fresh cut fruit to your table when you're gaming, they either like LIKE you or it's your mom

11:23 A.M.・Oct. 2023・220.2K Views

bokkie 🐣 liked your post.

“My tweet?”

You read aloud the newest text in your chatroom, and your face brightens when you remember the one in question.

“Oh, about the fruit—no, it’s so true though. And I love my mom, don't get me wrong, but I have an inkling she did it to guilt trip me." You change your posture and adopt your best motherly tone of voice. "‘This is your tenth consecutive hour wasting your young adulthood in front of that damn screen. I am now going to hand deliver apple slices straight to your mouth.’ That kind of vibe, y'know?"

A slew of messages follows your anecdote, but it is a comment from one of your moderators that catches your eye first:

je0ng1n: what about the other option tho 👀

You groan at the sight of his username. “Man, why are you always here? Don't you have a job?"

je0ng1n: i’m on break je0ng1n: taking a dump je0ng1n: ungrateful bitch

You brandish a middle finger to the camera. “Hope the dump sucks."

je0ng1n: HEY je0ng1n: don’t even joke about that :(

An involuntary cackle precedes your next words. “If you’re actually wondering, though, the only person who’s brought me fruit while I’m playing video games is indeed my mother. Heartbreaking, I know.”

At this, the steady flow of messages morphs into a gallery of depressed cat emoticons; your audience never fails to impress you with their way with words.

“But if someone other than your disappointed parent is bringing you fruit,” you go on, “they might as well get on one knee in the process, honestly. That's such an adorable, loving thing to do.”

Suddenly, the words MATCH FOUND splash across your monitor, and you move your cursor to accept the game invite—only to be met with a pop-up window and a familiar error sound that grates on your ears like screeching tires.

You know how this story ends: the lights in your mouse go dark, and you look on in dejected silence.

je0ng1n: LMFAOOOOO je0ng1n: bro’s mouse definitely just exploded again

“You guessed it," you sigh. “Hang tight for a sec, guys."

Half an hour ago, you could’ve sworn you heard sneakers being kicked off, a set of keys falling against plastic. Now, you pull one side of your headphones off and roll your chair a few feet backward, calling through your half-open door: “Lix, are you home?”

You pick up on a soft clunk that sounds like metal hitting wood—the cutting board, maybe?—and then your housemate's low, accented answer bounces off the walls of your shared hallway.

“Yeah, you alright?”

“The mouse,” you say helplessly.

“Ah.” It’s not the first time you’ve summoned him for this. “Be right there.”

A few seconds later, you remember to tack on a hurried disclaimer: “I’m live, by the way!”

“I know.”

This brings a bashful smile to your face, though the expression quickly turns to one of pure dismay when you return to your desk and witness the disastrous state of your chat.

Felix has become a regular guest on your stream by now, always popping in to show you a TikTok or ask for your opinion on a new pair of jeans or simply give your camera an awkward wave—but he may as well own your channel with how completely and unequivocally he has captured the hearts of your viewers. They’re convinced he’s the sexiest person to ever grace the earth, with his chiseled features and coffee-colored eyes; with a grin that could set entire estates on fire and a voice that could scrape the nadir of the Grand Canyon.

Do you agree? Absolutely.

Do you have any intention of voicing this sentiment, so long as you’re splitting rent with him? Absolutely the hell not.

Another of Jeongin’s messages—GET ME HIS NUMBER OR I GET VIOLENT—inspires you to minimize the stream window before Felix gets here. It’s for the best.

A few moments later, the door opens, and the air shifts inside your room. A hand comes to rest on the top of your head; a familiar silhouette appears in your periphery. There is a fond grin plastered across your face and a bright greeting sitting readily on the tip of your tongue.

But then, Felix places a plate of freshly cut fruit in the empty space to the left of your keyboard—here, he hums, the sound falling against the shell of your ear like a drop of melted chocolate. And the gears of your brain grind to a complete stop.

There is no further acknowledgment; no supplementary explanation for what he's just done. He simply picks up your mouse and gets to work.

The words of your tweet swim dizzyingly before your eyes, not unlike those halos of stars and birds that revolve around disoriented cartoon characters. And you’re suddenly, achingly aware of your roommate's arm nudging against yours as he tinkers away; of the aromas of vanilla and laundry detergent that always come with his proximity; of the heat that’s risen to your face, and the plethora of questions that have surfaced to your mind.

A soft huff of laughter follows a gentle utterance of your name, and you snap out of your trance. Felix’s eyes are glinting with amusement when you meet them.

“It’s been recalibrated,” he says, handing back your mouse. “Just give it a few minutes.”

Your fingertips brush over his palm when you accept the object, and even this blink of contact has your heart performing an elaborate hopscotch routine across the plane of your chest.

It’s either your mom, or…

“Thank you,” you mumble, finally retrieving your larynx from the bottom of the Atlantic.

“Anytime,” Felix returns, and you know he means it. “You need a duo, by the way?"

“Yes, please.”

He gives you a warm smile at this, and there’s a hint of something else—something new—in the curve of his lips. “Give me two.” And he’s gone as quickly as he'd come.

You will never know how Felix slips his phone out of his pocket the second he emerges from your room, his pulse hounding his ears as he turns a nervous gaze upon his screen.

There is now a supersonic blur of messages saturating your chatroom, a colorful cacophony of moving emotes and capital letters, but he is focused wholly on the person in front of the camera and how you slowly lift a hand to your mouth, deathly silent despite your every viewer demanding your comment on the matter, your sanguine cheeks visible even through the gaps of your fingers.

That is all he needs to know.

Felix sinks into the leather of his gaming chair and bends to power on his computer. Only after a deep breath blows past his lips does his smile start to stretch into a grin, every bit as embarrassed as it is relieved.

je0ng1n: no way je0ng1n: no fucking way je0ng1n: my heart fluttered je0ng1n: wtf je0ng1n: how’d you pull HIM??

y/nxx has removed je0ng1n as a moderator of this channel.

𝗹𝗶𝗸𝗲𝗱 𝘁𝗵𝗶𝘀 𝘄𝗼𝗿𝗸? please consider reblogging, commenting, or sending me an ask to let me know; or, read my other works here. thanks so much for the support ♡

© 𝗳𝗼𝗿𝗹𝗶𝘅 (est. 090323) · all works are pieces of original writing and all characters and relationships are purely fictional. please do not repost or reuse for any reason.

[livwritessometimes]

Hello! I love your uni series and I'm so excited to see who's next! Could I request an Alex Albon smau with a baker reader?

: Alex Albon x Baker!Reader

: Main Masterlist

: Author’s Note - omgg tysmm 💕 Hope you enjoy this 🫶🏻

…

liked by alex_albon and 72,393 others

Yourname: Nothing here to see…just a baker rolling through life one dough at a time 🤭

view all 56,921 comments

User56: Noooo queen you’ve been spending way to much time with Alex 😭😭😭😭😭 Your captions have taken a hit 😔

User02: I thought Y/n dating Alex would save us from his corny one lines but I was WRONG!! HE MADE HER JUST LIKE HIM 😩😩😩😩

alex_albon: I CAN SEE ALL YOUR CAPTIONS 😡🔪

-> User66: Oh no we’re so scared 😱

-> User51: Absolutely terrified

-> User09: Deleting this app as we speak! So scared 😦

-> alex_albon: 🤡 You guys are the worst 👎🏻👎🏻

liked by patrickh_coach and 219,627 others

👤: patrickh_coach

alex_albon: Winter break? Never heard of her 🤷🏻‍♂️ 2025 Season, here I come 💨

view all 179,728 comments

patrickh_coach: Keep up with this routine and we’ll be unstoppable 💪🏻 And don’t forget about your meal plan 🍽️

-> alex_albon: 🫡🫡🫡

User51: I-Wow! COVER YOURSELF UP YOU WHORE 🫵🏻

User42: You thought you could show your knees and GET AWAY WITH IT????? That’s IT! YOU’RE GROUNDED!

Yourname: My man! my man! my man! 🤤

-> User23: Queen I get the appeal! I swear I do but please pull yourself together 🙏🏻

-> User49: Another one bites to dust 😞

alex_albon: Why can’t you guys be normal for once? JUST ONCE ☝🏻 THAT’S ALL I’M ASKING 🙏🏻

liked by alex_albon and 92,013 others

👤: alex_albon

Yourname: The best part about winter break is having him all to myself 😈….Might not even give him back 🤭

view all 77,258 comments

User01: @/alex_albon how does it feel to be god’s favourite????

User32: LOVE LOVE LOVE 💕

alex_albon: oh 😳! I see…umm and what do you plan on doing 👀?

-> Yourname: Come back home and you’ll find out 😏

-> alex_albon: 🏃🏻

-> User42: why must I be punished like this??????

Williamsracing: Phew 😮‍💨 thank god! No take backs 🙅🏻‍♂️ He’s all yours now!!! Enjoy 😘

-> Yourname: WAIT NO I WAS JUST KIDDING!!! PLEASE TAKE HIM 🙏🏻

-> alex_albon: I- WOW! MY TEAM AND MY GIRLFRIEND! WOW

-> User52: @/Williamsracing @/Yourname I love you guys 😭😭🫂🫂🫂

liked by Yourname and 104,927 others

👤: Yourname

alex_albon: You know what they say…The way to a women’s heart is through her stomach 😋

view all 98,161 comments

Yourname: 🙈🙈🙈🙈

User07: @/Yourname hand to your heart ✋🏻 tell us, how many times did Alex almost burn the kitchen down????

-> Yourname: Whattt??? No! He actually has become really good at baking. Honestly you’d be shocked at how good he- 7 times and he also dropped the jar of jam, so we had to go and get a new one 😇

-> alex_albon: I KNEW IT!!! I KNEW THIS WAS COMING

-> Yourname: Good for you ig 🫶🏻🫶🏻

User55: I love these 2 so much!!!!!! Please never change you guys 🙏🏻

User03: Umm *gulp* I- *stutters* nice *wipes sweat* nice arms *cardiac arrest*

*liked by Yourname*

User21: hmm so much sweet 🤔 isn’t he supposed to be on a strict diet or something???

-> alex_albon: shhh 🤫 Don’t tell my trainer about this or else 🔪

liked by alex_albon and 99,738 others

👤: alex_albon

Yourname: I could watch him eat all day ☺️ Can’t believe he’ll be half way across the country soon!!! Stay like this forever my hungry boy 💘

view all 90,193 comments

User48: SO CUTE!!!!! 😩😩😩😩

alex_albon: omggg are you like obsessed with me or something???

-> Yourname: It’s okay you can go! I don’t mind anymore. Bye 👋🏻

-> alex_albon: I’m only kidding babe 😝

-> alex_albon: Y/n OPEN THE DOOR PLEASE 😫😫😫

User20: Good Food = Happy Alex

*liked by alex_albon*

patrickh_coach: It’s nice to see you’re eating healthy! I hope you’re following the meal plan as well, right Alex?

-> alex_albon: You know it 😅

-> User93: @/patrickh_coach you should see the post Alex had uploaded a couple of days ago

-> alex_albon: I SAID 🤫🤫🔪🔪🔪

User76: Not Alex fighting for his life, trying to hide the fact that he did not in fact follow his meal plan 😭😭😭😭

-> alex_albon: I don’t know 🤷🏻‍♂️ what your talking about 🗣️

-> User88: @/Yourname Queen 👸🏻 please drop the receipts 🧾

-> alex_albon: Y/n NO 😰😰

-> User32: Y/n YES

-> User11: Y/n YES

-> User02: Y/n YES

-> User78: Y/n YES

-> User50: Y/n YES

-> User64: Y/n YES

liked by alex_albon and 108,972 others

👤: alex_albon

Yourname: TADA!!! Since, so many of you wanted to see the results of Alex’s cooking 🧑🏻‍🍳 BTW, it was very tasty, and Alex & I enjoyed it a lot 🤤

view all 90,193 comments

alex_albon: YES, I ATE ALL OF THIS! I WILL NOT BE SHAMED FOR MY CHOICES! I DEVOURED THE ENTIRE SECOND BATCH OF CHOCOLATE CHIP COOKIES AND ON TOP OF THAT, I ALSO HAD TON OF CHOCOLATE CAKE! THERE I SAID IT AND I’M NOT AFRAID TO SAY IT AGAIN!!!

User32: Umm….I think we broke Alex????

User09: @/Yourname Is it okay???

-> Yourname: I- honestly have no idea. He threw his phone on the sofa and is now rocking himself back and forth muttering about how he’ll be fine 🙂 Please send help 🙏🏻

-> User68: Called 911! They’re on their way 🚨

-> Williamsracing: @/Yourname sending the pit crew for emotional support 🫂

patrickh_coach: Damn @/alex_albon didn’t know you could bake so well. Bring me a batch as well!!!

-> User53: @/alex_albon this the coach you were worried about???

-> alex_albon: @/patrickh_coach you got it!!!

-> patrickh_coach: Also, Alex hope you’re ready for a brutal workout session tomorrow 😊

…

[yenqa]

SO AMERICAN! | where you meet tsukishima and—wow you are so american.

♫ – currently playing… olivia rodrigo

warnings – profanity, reader is learning japanese and is american if u couldnt tell! reader is called pretty

pairing – tsukishima x fem!reader

a/n – hashtag semi hiatus! anyways i was reading an ao3 fic while listening to this song and it sparked smth in me so enjoy! (did my research on culture shocks btw guys!!)

word count – 571

You’re smiling at him like you know him.

Tsukishima doesn’t know you. He’s just seen you for the first time when you walked into the gym–presumably to become the manager for the club next year.

It’s starting to worry him, you haven’t been properly introduced, only your eyes have met a few times, yet you don’t hesitate to smile every time you make contact.

You’re not in the same class. But he can tell by your mannerisms that you’re a foreign student. You talk a little louder than most, and your Japanese is accented but not enough where he can’t understand.

He knows he’s spot on when you go to greet Daichi with a handshake, he can see you firmly grip his hand which catches him off guard.

Y/n. That’s your name.

It’s a pretty name he admits to himself, you’re a pretty girl so it fits. He doesn’t acknowledge that–or tries not to.

You’re standing in front of the whole team being introduced to everyone, waving and smiling like you’re old friends.

He can see from his peripheral vision when they all bow that you’re unsure of what to do. You awkwardly tilt your body down too, and he lets out a quiet chuckle.

It’s cute.

He’s disgusted by himself, he thinks that something is up with him.

Shaking his head, he starts his warmups.

He tries not to keep his eye on you, but he can’t help it.

You’re holding a clipboard now, there's a paper on it he can’t see, but he can tell by your furrowed brows that you’re still struggling a bit with reading.

Making an excuse for himself, he walks up to where his water bottle–luckily right next to where you are, turns around and takes a sip of it. He’s standing right next to you now, reading the same paper as him.

Your eyes scan left to right on the paper, he laughs.

Whipping your head over, you ask, “Is something wrong?”

“Right to left, we read right to left.” He speaks a little slower than his usual pace—hoping you wouldn’t be offended.

You aren’t a smile grows on your face instead. “Oh my gosh–I was wondering what was wrong this whole time!” You laugh at yourself, thanking him quietly before restarting, eyes moving right to left this time.

“You’re so american.” He mutters, a chuckle comes out of him as he says it.

“Is that a compliment?” You ask, the paper is discarded now, your full attention is on him.

“Whatever you want it to be.”

You roll your eyes, hitting his shoulder with no real force behind it, “Whatever Kei.”

He doesn’t miss the fact that you’ve called him Kei instead of his surname. He brushes it off as another mistake, you’re new to the country after all.

Later he hears you complimenting “Kageyama and Hinata”, your voice is still louder than what a normal student speaks, and you’re gushing about their skills, to their faces. But then he looks over at you, and you two make eye contact.

He almost misses how you wink at him, it's a teasing one but it still makes his heart flutter. Then as quickly as you looked over, you looked away, a bright smile present on your face while you talked to his other teammates.

It’s definitely not fair of you to make him feel this much. Because he might just fall in love.

yenqa © please do not copy, steal or translate.