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ghoulbrain · 5 months

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Saddle Up, Sweetheart

18+ 3k ghoul x f!reader. cunnilingus/face sitting, overstim, pet names, clothed/naked sex, creampie. gif credit. prompt list. written for this ask. thank you! 🖤

The Ghoul—Cooper, as you know him now—does not make himself an easy man to get to know. He was harsh with you from the start, one of the crankiest old bastards you’ve ever met. An accomplishment, given your life in the slums. He’s dismissive, angry that you even want to know him, and downright mean most days.

And yet you became fascinated with him.

It was ages before you were able to hold decent conversations, and longer than that before you had a name for him. Still, you keep digging. He intrigues you more than anyone else ever has, and despite his sour attitude, he keeps coming back.

"You won't like what y'find," he told you one day. You knew then you were wearing him down with your persistence.

"What scares you more: the idea that I won't, or the possibility that I will?" You'd asked.

He laughed. "Y'don't scare me, sugar."

You smiled. "Maybe I should."

Cooper started to look at you differently from then on. There had been a sense before that he was observing you as something ephemeral, a flower bud he was waiting to see bloom and die away as quickly as you'd appeared.

Once you made it clear you weren't going anywhere, the invisible walls between you began to fall away. You feel his gaze lingering on you when he thinks you aren't paying attention. You watch him in turn, holding his gaze whenever he catches you.

"Eye contact like that'll get'cha killed someday. Predators take it as a challenge," he tells you, adjusting the holster on his thigh.

"Is that what you are?" You ask from where you’re leaning against the wall, arms crossed. You raise your brow, inured to his broody one-liners. "A predator?"

To your surprise, he's the one who closes the distance this time. His footfalls are heavy, his swagger loose. He looms over you, bracing his forearm on the wall behind you. Your heart skips a beat. He rarely ever gets so close.

"I'm the worst kind there is," he says gravely, but you clock his tone for what it is. He's toying with you.

Undeterred, you square your shoulders. "And what kind is that?"

He leans in closer, smelling of oil and gunpowder. "A hungry one," he says, the heat of his breath ghosting your cheek.

Pushing you away hasn't turned you against him. Cornering you won't either. Despite his insistence to the contrary, you're no prey animal. "Well then... I s'pose you ought to have something to eat."

His radiation scarred lips spread slowly into a wicked smile. "Y'offering, sweetcheeks?" He asks, his yellowed teeth parted, poised to take a bite.

You swallow dryly, so keenly aware of the thundering of your own heart, you wonder if he can hear it, too. You tip your head back, jutting your chin out and bringing your lips closer to his.

"You don't scare me, Coop," you whisper, wielding his name like a secret weapon.

He hums, head tilting slowly while his gaze moves down your body in a leisurely calculating sweep. "Well..." He drawls, voice a low rumble from his chest. "Maybe I should."

You're ready for him to do as he's always done and leave you like that, to rile you up and then act as though it was all in your head. You've accepted that Cooper is a man on the run, and he hasn't seen anything in you worth stopping for.

The press of his lips against yours shocks you to your core.

Your arms uncross, hands fumbling to catch hold of his jacket, grabbing him before he can vanish. He responds in kind, cupping your face in the soft worn down leather of his gloves. Your pulse is all the way up in your throat, so wild you’re sure he can taste it when he slips his tongue into your mouth.

His touch isn’t a gradual thing. He’s upon you all at once, forcing your thighs apart with his knee and slotting his thigh between yours, pressing into you until you start to sing for him, those breathy little noises muffled by his devouring kiss. At your hip, you feel the press of his cock gradually filling out beneath the layers of clothing between you.

After so long without meaningful touch, the onslaught is dizzying. You roll your hips, grinding down on his thigh until you feel your underwear clinging wetly to your skin, an exquisite shiver trilling up and down your spine. His lips feel textured and hardened by his condition, but his tongue is hot and smooth, persistently licking into your mouth, determined to feel, to taste.

That hunger drives him from your lips to your jaw, your throat, peppering rough kisses that are as much lips as they are teeth along your neck. “S’your last chance, darlin’. Point of no return,” he tells you, voice coarse. His hand slips between your bodies and starts working your pants open. “Won’t be no comin’ back from this. I’ll ruin you.”

That he would have the audacity to warn you away from the door like this after you’ve been knocking and knocking and knocking is almost laughable. You would laugh if you had enough air in your lungs, but he’s kissed it out of you.

“So ruin me,” you tell him breathlessly. He grazes his teeth over your pulse-point in a way that makes your voice hitch. “I want you.”

The rim of his hat brushes your cheek as he buries his face in the crook of your neck, making a raw noise against your skin. “God damn it,” he says, yanking you from the wall so sharply you gasp. He whirls you around, hands fisted in your shirt, kissing you hard while he walks you backwards, towards the noisy heap of springs and fabric you call a bed.

“Y’outta your fuckin’ mind for that,” he grouses, shoving your pants down off your hips. You don’t disagree, You know how terrifying he should be, what his affliction does to him, to his hunger, but you don’t care. Not when he’s kissing life back into your dull dusty life at the end of the world.

You’re naked by the time he pushes you down onto the bed, standing above you, sunken eyes black with fervor. He unclips the bullet belt strapped across his chest and shrugs out of his coat, tosses his hat up somewhere high on the bed. You start to crawl backwards, but he snatches your ankle and drags you right back to the very edge of the bed.

“Unbuckle me,” he orders, the words all throaty feverish heat that makes your clit throb. You do, eyes flipping back and forth from him to his belt. He watches you all the while, pulling off his gloves with his teeth, dropping them to the ground. You unbutton his pants next, hands so eager they fumble briefly before you make it to his zipper, the hiss of it coming undone drowned out by the thunder of your pulse in your own ears.

Before you get any further, Cooper catches your wrists and hauls you up to your feet, spinning you around and pulling you down over top of him on the bed. He keeps you steady while you straddle his waist, moving his hands from your wrists to your hips. You start to move back, but he cups your ass and pulls you in the opposite direction.

“Saddle up, sweetheart,” he says, licking his lips. “Y’said for me to have somethin’ t’eat. I intend to.”

Oh fuck.

Nodding hazily, you follow his lead until your knees are on either side of his head, your hands braced on the wall behind your bed.

“C’mon now, relax,” he coaxes, urging you down with his grip on your thighs. You settle most of the way down before he yanks you the rest of it, startling a noise out of you that transitions into a low moan at the molten wet slide of his tongue dragging from the bottom of your pussy to your clit, upon which his lips close down and suck.

The sensation is leagues beyond the amateurish grinding, but that session still left you sensitized. The heat of his mouth is so intense it almost burns. His tongue feels just as unreal, thick and dexterous in the way it works you, swirling repetitive patterns on your clit. He drinks from you like you’re an oasis in the desert, swallowing greedy gulps before sinking his tongue into you, fucking it in and out, coaxing more and more thirst quenching wetness from you.

“Ffffuck, oh my God,” you moan, your hands curling into fists on the wall, sliding until your forearms are braced against it instead, your head hanging between them. You wish you had something to grip, something to dig your nails into as his devil’s tongue builds hot pressure inside of you, swelling sensation toward an inevitable explosion.

Cooper is shameless beneath you, devouring without care for mess or noise. Every so often you feel the graze of his teeth and you buck away from him, but you’re no match for his strength and he keeps you held firmly down, wholly at his mercy despite your positions.

Once he’s satisfied that you’re not going to try and escape anymore, he relinquishes his hold on your hip and brings his fingers between your thighs, teasing where you’re wettest with the tip of his finger. With the way he’s sucking your clit you barely notice the initial touch, but he quickly wrings a gasp out of you by sinking his finger in all the way to the knuckle, crooking it wickedly while he rocks it in and out.

It’s simultaneously too much and not enough. He walks you on the knife’s edge of your climax, deftly toeing the line with every slow stroke of his finger and swipe of his tongue. Your stomach clenches up with it, breath catching. He pushes in a second finger, and by the time you feel the third working you open, your legs are shaking uncontrollably. He is feasting on you, humming appreciative little noises between the wet sounds of him eating you out.

A sudden jarring slap to your ass makes your quivering thighs tense up and startles a loud moan out of you. He most definitely smiles against you, fucking you steadily with his fingers.

“You son of a bitch,” you manage to choke out, tears prickling at your eyes from the sheer overwhelm of it all, your breaths growing sharper, more shallow. “I should smother you,” you say, the threat dulled by the thinness of your voice.

He smacks your ass again, harder this time. You decide that’s encouragement to do just that and grind down against his mouth, eagerly meeting every thrust of his fingers until one last good slap tips you over the edge, your orgasm striking you like a bolt of lightning. Your whole body goes tense, and Cooper ruthlessly fucks and licks you through it, sucking on your clit as it pulses and pulses and pulses through what feels like the longest climax of your life.

“Enough,” you moan weakly, pushing yourself from the wall on trembling arms. His fingers have slipped free, but he’s still drinking you down, holding your thighs in a vice grip. You can’t stop shaking, the burn of pleasure beginning to feel like the most exquisite pain. “C-Coop, enough, I can’t–you fucker,” you gasp, jolting in his grip when he nips at your clit.

He finally lets you up, easing you down with two hands firmly on your ass. You slide back until you’re straddling his waist, hands braced on his chest while you catch your breath. He doesn’t give you much time, knocking you down into his lap as he sits up. He takes your face in his hands and kisses your own taste into your mouth, giving a throaty little rumble.

“I decide when you’ve had enough,” he says, dropping one hand to work his cock free from his undone pants. “And you’ll remember that you asked for it.”

Each word feels like a spark of electricity. You lift yourself on trembling knees, hands on his shoulders, and he puts his arm around you, drawing you in while you sink down until you feel the thick head of his cock–wet with his own precum–nudging against your spit-soaked pussy.

“That’s it, pretty girl. Show me how good you can take me.” You can hear the restraint in his voice, feel it in the thrum of his touch. You hold his gaze while his cock forces you open in one smooth, frictionless slide, the stretch a dull ache that rapidly ascends into pleasure. He lets you adjust a moment or so before he begins to move, holding your hips steady while he rocks his own, reclining down onto his back.

“Don’t you hold out on me,” you tell him through a shuddered breath, hands behind you, braced on his thighs. “You promised me ruin.”

As sharply as he’d slapped your ass, Cooper gives a hard thrust up, his dull nails biting crescents into your skin, his grip all that keeps you from losing your balance. “One taste and y’already damn spoiled,” he says, planting his boots on your bed–you’ll give him shit for that later–and picking up a brutal pace almost immediately. “C’mon then, sweetheart. Ride me.”

You have no choice but to comply, grabbing hold of what you can of his shirt while he bucks hard under you. Every thrust sparks inside you like the strike of a match, your cunt still sensitive. You can already feel yourself climbing towards another peak. You arch your back, watching him through the haze of your own pleasure. His eyes are dark, his teeth bared. He looks like something wild, like something ready to bite.

“Goddamn, that’s it, y’squeezin’ me fuckin’ good now,” he groans, tipping his head back, watching you bounce on his cock through heavily lidded eyes. “Give it up for me, pretty girl. Show me this is really what you want,” he rambles, his accent growing thicker the closer he gets. You nod along, panting wordlessly, his thrusts knocking sweet little keening noises from your throat. “Go on now, that’s it. Show me how it feels when I make you cum.”

The world around you goes black just before an eruption of white explodes behind your eyelids like stars, your whole body stilling to endure the overwhelming crash of your release, the shock of it rolling out in waves throughout your entire body. You don’t speak, you don’t even breathe, too struck by the magnitude of it.

Cooper fucks you through every second of it, slurring a litany of feverish nonsense–your name sprinkled within it–until he breaks off into a choked off noise, and in the middle of your euphoria you feel a the rush of his release spilling deep inside you, his body finally stilling under yours.

You sink down onto his chest, panting against the collar of his shirt. He moves his hand along your back, and a distant part of you is caught off guard by how tenderly he sweeps his fingers up the back of your neck. You answer in kind by slipping your fingers just under his collar, fingertips brushing bare skin that’s as gnarled as the rest of him.

The two of you sit in silence for a long while, neither of you willing to break the spell of your afterglow. The entire world feels softer in it, the dull sepia of it tinged with hints of gold. The dust particles floating around you almost seem to sparkle. In any other moment, you’d scold yourself for romanticizing the rotten remains of a dead world that has been so cruel to you, but for just this moment, you let yourself believe that things can be beautiful, too.

You lose yourself to the warmth of his body beneath yours, and the gentle way he traces the slopes of your body with his fingertips. Eventually, Cooper cleans his throat. You ignore it, reluctant to acknowledge him. You know once you do, the moment will be over.

“Y’might wanna get situated with a pack of Radaway soon,” he murmurs, the twang of his voice still heavier than usual.

Tucked into the crook of his neck, you smile while he still can’t see you, endeared. “I’ve had worse exposures.”

“I find that hard t’believe,” he says, cupping the back of your neck in his palm. His thumb strokes absently back and forth. You can almost believe he’s dragging out these last few moments together, too.

Lifting yourself, you brace your forearms on his chest, staring down at him. His expression is difficult to parse–while there is most definitely a sense of ease you don’t normally associate with him, there’s also a profound sadness.

Your brows furrow. “What?”

He doesn’t answer right away. Instead, he moves his hand from your neck to your cheek, swiping his thumb along the ridge of it. You lean into his touch, ready to ask again, when he makes a grab for his hat and places it firmly on your head, obscuring your vision.

“That was some fine ridin’, sweetheart,” he says, voice as coarse and sweet as raw sugar.

You push the brim up until you can see him again, failing to bite back a smile. “Guess I’m the sheriff ‘round these parts now.”

“I ain’t a sheriff," he says flatly, though the slight tic at the corner of his mouth gives away his amusement.

“That’s right, y’ain’t. ‘Cause I am,” you say in your best impression of him, tipping his hat at him.

He blows out a breath and tugs the rim back down over your eyes. “Whatever you say, sweetcheeks,” he says, and though you can’t see him, you’re certain you can hear the smile in his voice.

Today may never happen again. The world could end tomorrow–again–or Cooper could walk off into the Wastes for the very last time. If you’ve learned anything in this world, it’s that nothing lasts forever. So, you drop your head back down and listen to the beat of his heart, using it to count the moments as they pass.

If they’re gonna be the best you get, you’d like to know how many of them you have.

#the ghoul x reader #the ghoul x you #cooper howard #the ghoul #cooper howard x you #cooper howard x reader #fallout fanfic #fallout #x reader #x reader smut #my writing #smut

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battlekidx2 · 8 months

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Alastor Episodes 7 and 8 Thoughts

These two episodes really gave us a lot in regards to Alastor and I cannot wait to see where they go with him in season 2. What I find most fascinating about what they established with him in these episodes is how I think this perfectly sets up Alastor to directly challenge the show’s main themes of redemption.

Alastor is the only character in the main cast that I think could effectively challenge Charlie’s idea of redemption by making her face the question of “where the line for who can be redeemed and who is too far gone is?”

Even Vaggie and her past as an exorcist couldn’t challenge Charlie’s ideals in the same way because Vaggie so clearly wants to be better and is trying to be better. She could only challenge Charlie’s idea of who could be redeemed. She couldn’t truly challenge the line of when someone is too far gone unlike Alastor.

And to explain this I'll just jump right in.

It’s clear these two episodes were meant to show a shift in Alastor and Charlie’s relationship in some capacity. It’s a bit more of a subtle shift than with the other characters, but I think it’s setting up this future conflict well for the limited time the show has.

At the start Charlie doesn’t think Alastor cares and calls him out on this. She directly states that she believes he enjoys the suffering. He refutes her idea of him by stating she doesn’t know what he feels. He purposefully hides his feelings behind a smile as a sign of control. (The first shift. It tells her there’s more beneath the surface)

Then Alastor helps Charlie enlist cannibal town and says he wants to mentor her in the song. This is more than the initial indifference and humor he got out of Charlie at the beginning. There’s an interest in seeing Charlie grow and being a part of it that wasn't there before. And, with Alastor helping Charlie here, trust is being built (at least on Charlie's end).

Then Alastor talks to Niffty (who he is clearly fond of) and admits he finds the group enjoyable to be around. He says he could grow accustomed to them after Niffty says she really likes them almost in agreement with her. He's very candid with Niffty and doesn't seem to feel the need to hide his emotions around her. They appear to be on the same wavelength.

And finally, Charlie is upset when she thinks that Alastor died against Adam and hugs him happily when he returns. In Charlie’s eyes Alastor has been helpful and risked himself and his power to protect the hotel. This is a true shift in their relationship on Charlie's end.

This bond is necessary because if (at the very least) Charlie doesn't care about Alastor then he won't be able to truly challenge her idea of redemption and the show implies it doesn't just go one way. It's just obscured.

To explain what I mean I want to look at Alastor's role in the final battle and that moment when he is alone after he escapes.

At the beginning of the battle he felt like the trump card he should have been. He makes the exorcists, before Adam destroys his shield, look like a joke. And he gives Adam a run for his money before he becomes overconfident and lets his guard down. He didn’t expect Adam to bounce back and have that much power left to show. He was caught completely off guard and paid the price.

And instead of staying to face the end with the rest of the people in the hotel Alastor opts to save himself. He places himself first. When he leaves he seems almost smug, spouting off a one liner and smiling as he sinks into the shadows. It seems calculated and calm, but alone is a completely different story. This moment shakes Alastor and that moment alone puts his fight against Adam and decision to flee in a different light.

In this moment when he's alone he starts to lose it, saying there has to be a way out. This isn’t where things end. He will come out on top.

He can feel his control over the situation slipping. His power and notoriety has been challenged left and right this season. First Vox, then Lucifer, then the loan sharks, now Adam. It’s one right after the other. And Adam almost killed him.

He’s struggling to grasp onto what little control he has left by forcing himself to keep on his smile and it calls back to the beginning of episode 7 when he says to Charlie that just because she sees a smile doesn't mean she knows how he really feels. His smile is a sign of control. And even in this moment you can see that last bit of control slipping. And it’s left him even more desperate for his freedom than before.

The Radio Demon was introduced almost as if he was an all powerful entity and now he is being brought back down to earth and he’s raging against it, barely keeping it just below the surface.

But there’s even more to his breakdown than just his pride. The lines “Great Alastor, altruist, died for his friends. Sorry to disappoint that is not where this ends. I’m hungry for freedom like never before. The constraints of my deal surely have a backdoor.” strongly imply that he really does care for the residents of the hotel more than he wants to admit even to himself.

He is freaking out because he got too close to dying trying to protect and help people that he never thought he would care at all about and he’s doubling down on his plans from before.

His immediate desperation to be free implies he is at the hotel because he is forced to be there, but he’s desperate to get out of the contract because he doesn’t like how it’s changing him. Alastor has always put himself first and here he is almost dying trying to protect this hotel and it's rattled him even more deeply than the blow to his pride.

I feel like they know exactly what Alastor can mean thematically and they want you to know he’s a villain while seeding hints there could be change under the surface (ones that Alastor himself is afraid of and wants to double down against). There’s a balancing act going on with him and it seems they really do want to challenge the idea of redemption with him. Not just Charlie’s, but his own as well.

Alastor is still in my opinion the best written character in the series. There’s just so much to unravel with him and he’s the most fun to try and dissect to me. I can’t wait to see what they have planned for him in season 2.

#hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel alastor #alastor #the show must go on #hello rosie #charlie #netflix #Alastor is such a fascinating character #he has the potential to really challenge Charlie's views of redemption #By either showing her when someone is too far gone #because he doubled down on his original plans #or actually accepting that he's changing #and finding “redemption”#thus proving that anyone can change #even a sadistic prideful overlord

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sommerbueckers · 28 days

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BYEE imagine a little blurb of paige x gf reader where reader is wearing THAT ONE urban outfitter top w the titties out and she’s just going ferallll

𝘨𝘶𝘺𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘳𝘦𝘲𝘶𝘦𝘴𝘵 𝘪𝘴 𝘴𝘰 𝘰𝘭𝘥 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘪 𝘧𝘦𝘦𝘭 𝘩𝘰𝘳𝘳𝘪𝘣𝘭𝘦 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘯𝘰𝘵 𝘱𝘶𝘵𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘪𝘵 𝘰𝘶𝘵…𝘴𝘰 𝘪𝘧 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘳𝘦𝘲𝘶𝘦𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘦𝘯𝘥 𝘶𝘱 𝘴𝘦𝘦𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘪𝘵, 𝘪𝘮 𝘴𝘰𝘳𝘳𝘺 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘪 𝘭𝘰𝘷𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶

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YOU WERE STANDING IN the mirror applying the last of your makeup— a little blush here, a little lipgloss there— when your girlfriend barged into the bathroom. She was already dressed, her makeup was done, hair was flawless, her phone charged and ready to go. She stared at you with narrow eyes.

"This is why we're late everywhere," she groaned, gesturing to the curling iron that was still hot and plugged in, and the makeup that was scattered around the sink.

"Well sorry not everyone wakes up as sexy as you," you mumbled absently, carefully lining your lips. "I need time."

"You need time management," she corrected.

You frowned and stood up straight, capping the liner and slipping it into your makeup bag. "Y'know you're one to talk, you get ready on time once and all of a sudden we're behind schedule because of me, you've got some nerve girl." When you were met with silence, you glanced at her to find her eyes on your chest. "Hello?"

Her eyes snapped up to yours, "Hm?"

"You're not even listening! You're just staring at my boobs," you accused her, gently poking her chest with your pointer finger.

"Can you blame me? I mean— they jus' sit so good in that shirt."

You playfully rolled your eyes, shutting off the bathroom light and leaving her alone in the darkness. She followed after you.

"You're gonna wear it outside?" she asked, now looking at your ass as you walked into the kitchen.

"Yes? Is that a problem for you?" you challenged.

"No," she scoffed, "Hell no. Would it look better in the house with some lil panties on? Probably. But, I can't stop you."

"You're right, you can't. So, let's go."

"I'LL TAKE THE PULLED PORK SANDWICH."

Paige had suggested taking a break in your errands and going to lunch. It didn't take much convincing, you hadn't eaten all day. You had had an odd craving for barbecue and ended up at a popular spot not too far from your apartment.

The waiter nodded at you, and then turned to Paige. "And for you?"

Paige didn't answer, her eyes glued to your cleavage as you shifted around in your seat. She had been unapologetically staring at day, lips parted, breathing heavy, an absolute wreck. Even now, with the waiter standing patiently as he waited for her to order, she couldn't bring herself to focus. He cleared his throat to no avail.

Finally noticing the way her attention was clearly on the wrong thing, you snapped your fingers in front of her face. "Paige."

"What?" she frowned, leaning back.

"Order your food."

"Shit, yeah." She quickly scanned the menu, "I'll take what she got, and you could bring out another shirley temple?"

"Sure thing," the guy nodded, flipping his notepad closed, taking the menus, and walking away.

"Dude you're a mess," you whispered, "Get yourself together, we're in public."

"So I can't admire my girlfriend in public?"

"I didn't say that, but you could at least pretend to be respectful about it," you said, laughing as you went to take a sip of your drink.

Paige shook her head, "Just wait 'till we get back home."

"YOU LOOK SO FUCKIN' GOOD RIGHT NOW," Paige murmured, hands behind her head as she leaned back on the couch. You had slowly pulled down your pants, taking your panties with them. Left in nothing but your urban outfitter top, you climbed on top of Paige's lap. Her hands instinctively went to your hips, sensually rubbing up and down. "Want you on my thigh."

"Oh!" you laughed out as you effortlessly moved you onto one of her legs, you bit your lip at the contact her thigh made with your core. "Take your sweatpants off..."

"Nuh uh," she smirked, "wanna see the mess you make." She glanced down at the wet spot on her light gray sweats from where she had just moved you. "C'mon mama, ride it."

___________________________________________________________

𝘸𝘢𝘪𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘪𝘴 𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘥𝘢 𝘣𝘢𝘥..𝘣𝘶𝘵 𝘪 𝘸𝘢𝘯𝘵𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘰 𝘨𝘦𝘵 𝘴𝘮𝘵𝘩 𝘰𝘶𝘵

#paige bueckers #wlw post #sommer bueckers #so says sommer #uconn wbb #gay as fuck #paige bueckers x reader #lesbian #request

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flowerfreya · 2 months

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The Office AU

This is part 3

Part 1 / Part 2

Just getting some more backstory for the reader and the boys as well. I’m trying to make it interesting but if it feels like to much filler let me know pleaseee

Poly!141 x reader

Content: reader backstory , and they have a girlfriend???!!!

He sees you before you see him and that is because you're taking a nap at your desk, your head down with sunglasses on, at least that's what he thinks. All the lights are off because they are motion sensored and when Simon comes in because of course he is the first one here the lights turn on. You shoot straight up sunglasses askew.

“Morning”

“Good morning Simon” You smile nervously. “ I got here at 6 am so I just took a quick cat nap before everyone came in and I had an alarm set for 7:30 before everyone came in but it looks like we have an early worm”. You’ve changed from the sunglasses to your regularly prescribed glasses, standing up with your makeup bag.

“Why did you get here at 6 am?”

“Oh, my boyfriend gets here at 6am and you know only one car”, you shrug like it's a normal occurrence. He just lets out a hum and just sits at his desk and you walk to the bathroom to get ready for the day.

By the time everyone comes in, you're ready for the day. You greet everyone with a smile and wave.

Simon stands up, which you don’t normally see, “Need to talk to you”, as he walk to John. Simon shuts the door after entering and you're a bit nervous that he's going to tell you about sleeping and you're trying not to stare but you can’t help it, you really need this job. Soap comes up to your desk and peaks over, “Did you get anything from TJ Maxx, Hen?”.

“You know about that?”

“Aye”

“Ha, well I never got a chance to go, but maybe this weekend”, you don’t say because when you got home you had to do all the chores that didn’t happen when you were at work and then you were so tired, you did your skincare and knocked out. He questions why you didn’t go and respond with a basic one liner, you know life. You look up at him and smile , he opens his mouth and looks like he’s about to say something and John’s door opens back up , only Simon leaving and John's voice carrying out in the office building calling your name, “Let me see you in here” . You move quickly half thinking your going to get fired and take a seat and instead of word vomiting like you did before you just sit there and wait.

John sighs and shakes his head like he can’t believe what he’s about to ask,“Love, why are here so early” .

Your so embarrassed about your car situation and how it’s already affecting your new job, “Me and boyfriend, only have one car so I have to ride with him and his shift starts at 6am so that’s why”

“One of the guys are me can pick you up on the way to work, if you want”

“Oh no , I don’t mind getting up early unless you mind me being here early…..” you trail off , hoping that this won’t be such a big deal.

“It’s fine, bird. Just don’t want you to go sleep on us waking up that early and working is hard”

“Oh no, I’m good. I just take a nap before everyone gets here, if that's okay, I don’t charge it on my time card”.

“That's not what I'm worried about”. You look away , not sure what to say and your eyes fall to his desk. He has around 20 challenge coins that look like from his time in the military. You see pictures with all the boys , some in uniform , some in just civvies, but they all look happy and so close it makes your heart hurt. You decide to change the subject.

“How long have you known the boys?”, you ask, gesturing toward the pictures.

He cocked his head to the side and smiled,”I feel like I’ve known them forever”. He sounds so fond of them and you can see the connection between them from the few days you’ve worked there. You're about to ask another follow up question but then you are interrupted by a knock and then the door opening.

“John”, a woman exclaims loudly and hops around the desk and gives him a kiss. It's a giant kiss. Somehow also…wet. Unprofessional. You know your mouth is open and you are staring but like what else are you supposed to do.

“Kelly, the door was shut, that means I was in a meeting. You know that.” ,he says in a low voice.

“Honey, I didn’t see her the-” , you cut her off ,” Oh,no I was just leaving“. You stand up and attempt to push in the chair but it doesn’t fit under the desk, so now everyone is looking at you attempt to push in a chair that you actually can’t. “Okay, I’m just going to go, do you want it open or shut?”, you ask.

They both say the opposite answers at the same time. You look between the both of them. “Uhhh”, you don’t even know who this woman is and what she is to tell and how much pull she has in the office.

“Open.”, John states matter of factly.

You’ve been sitting at your desk for around 20 minutes. You haven’t done that much work because the door is shut , the blinds are closed and you wonder what they are doing in there and its distracting you. You message Soap.

>>come here.

Soap looks up at you with eyebrows raised. You motion your head in a come here motion. He leans against your desk, “Aye, hen” , you try to make sure your tone doesn’t sound like a crazy lady, “who is Kelly”, and maybe you shouldn’t have ask because he stiffens up and avoids eye contact with you and hmmms.

“Oh, nevermind you don’t have to answer”, you add a chuckle to end as to not be awkward and look down at your keyboard.

Speak of the devil and she will appear , Kelly steps out of the office and see’s Soap and gives him an intimate hug, she knows his body she’s done this before. “I’m going to go to the annex and say hi to Gaz”, Kelly mentions as she moves toward the back of the office.

You see it for what it is, they share. Which is fine you do not judge on relationships but you don’t know what you thought was going happen between Soap or Johnny or even Simon like you have a boyfriend for christ sake.

Your boyfriend comes in, hes in a good mood. He wants to go out for dinner , he of course picks the place. Your just happy you don’t have to cook. Your shutting down your computer, putting on your jacket and getting you lunch box. You wish them a goodnight. John comes out of his office, “Everything, okay”, you nod your head and smile. It doesn’t matter anyway. Your happy. Your so fucking happy so it doesn’t matter anyway.

They “break up” with Kelly that night. They do it at a nice restaurant and do it immediately so she won’t get any other ideas. Simon doesn’t say anything, he knows Kelly only put up for him because they are a package deal. She of course ask why and John take points and lets her down gently but firmly. Then they get up and brainstorm how to get their Hen.

#task force 141 #simon riley x reader #simon x reader #captain john price #soap x reader #gaz x reader #johh price x reader #poly!141

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luvyeni · 7 months

Text

𐙚 : WEAR A VIBRATOR W/ DREAMIES 00' LINERS ֶָ֢ !

request: wearing a vibrator with nct dream , if you're comfortable plzz.

authors note. i hope you like it , i know you probably wanted all the members but my brain wasn't fully working😭🩷

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

𐙚 : RENJUN ֶָ֢ !

this was a punishment to him , you wanna wear that tiny ass skirt to lunch, giving his friends a look at your pretty ass that was only his to see — fine , now try to not moan like a slut in front of them , pray they dont hear the buzzing of the vibrator that was stuffed inside your messy cunt. he's relentless , never letting you cum , turning it off as soon as you were about to cum , you slammed your hand on the table out of frustration , making everything turn to you. "you okay?" mark asked concerned, you nodded , biting the inside of your cheek as he once again turned the vibrator back on. once everyone turned back to their conversations , he turned to you scowl on his face , leaning over to your ear.

"keep being a fucking brat , i'll make sure you won't cum at all slut."

𐙚 : JENO ֶָ֢ !

gaming with jeno was a fun activity for you — gaming with jeno with a vibrator stuffed inside you while you wore his head set trying not to moan was a fun activity for jeno; watching you struggle to play , not moan and curse at haechan made his cock chub in his shorts. "keep them on." he used your body, grinding his cock against yours. "why aren't you saying anything yn , you scared." he chuckled , if only haechan knew. "fu-fuck off." he hissed , hitting your thigh. "language baby." he lifted you up , pulling his cock to the side , stuffing his cock inside your cunt with the vibrator still inside , throwing his back as he turned it up. "why are you huffing so much?" you couldn't take it anymore and neither could jeno , taking the headphones from you. "fuck, we'll log back on later." he groaned , the last thing you heard was haechan yelling gross into the mic before he was picking you up, holding you.

"shit ,im about to ruin this pretty pussy."

𐙚 : HAECHAN ֶָ֢ !

not only are you wearing wearing a vibrator, but he's wearing vibrating cock ring— now it's a challenge on who could make the other cum first without your friends catching on to what you were doing. haechan saw how nonchalant you were being , meanwhile he was losing his mind trying not moan your name, and end up being embarrassed by the boys, turning the setting up , watch your legs twitch, hands gripping the table , he knew you were about to cum , he just had to hold it out a little longer. he swore he had it— until you squeezed his cock , he bit his tongue as he came , his thighs shaking making you smirk. "fuck we gotta go." he said. "yn has work in the morning." he quickly dragged you out of the building to his car. "why'd you want to leave?" you smirked.

"don't play dumb, you know i came , and im gonna fucking cum again if you don't turn that stupid thing off."

𐙚 : JAEMIN ֶָ֢ !

you gave him the remote — this was your doing; you were the one who gave him this freedom to do what he wanted to you , so of course he was gonna use it to his advantage. smirking as you struggled to keep still in your seat as you talked to marks girlfriend , your eyes locking with his with a pleading look , he pouted , tilting his head in faux sympathy as he raised the number , you body jolted , making marks girlfriend concerned. "you okay?" you hummed , nodding softly excusing yourself as you ran to the bathroom. jaemin stood up , tucking the remote away before telling everyone he was gonna go check on you , following behind you knocking on the bathroom door. "princess?" he heard you whining, pushing the door open. "pl-please turn it off." he chuckled , reaching in his pocket handing it too you , quickly snatching it away. "silly girl."

"why would i do that princess , do you really not want to cum that bad?"

©️LUVYENI

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merlucide · 6 months

Text

Eyeliner with Shidou <3

Notes: IM ACTUALLY PROUD OF THIS?? I ACTUALLY DID SOMETHING GOOD???

Words: 723

warnings: cursing, suggestiveness, shidou

In the walls of Ryusei’s bathroom, you were perched on the edge of the counter, watching your boyfriend struggle with his eyeliner. He’s wiped it off about 3 times now, normally he can get it in one quick swipe. His usual confidence seemed to falter with each failed attempt, his frustration growing.

"Fuck!’ He yelled, his hands uncharacteristically shaky as he tried once more to get the perfect line. His gaze met yours in the mirror as you try not to burst out laughing. Who would’ve thought that Ryusei couldn’t do his own eyeliner?

"need help?" you offered, your voice laced with amusement. Ryusei slitted his eyes and held up the liner to try again. You scoffed at his actions and watched he failed again.

After two more attempts, Shidou finally gave up, waddled over and stepped between your legs.

A smirk playing on his lips, his usual boldness returning. "Can't resist getting your hands on me, huh babe?" he teased, locking eyes with you, a challenge in his gaze. You couldn't help but laugh, shaking your head at his antics. "Keep dreaming you roach" you shot back, a smile adorning your lips.

As you leaned in closer, positioning the tip of the eyeliner at the corner of his eye. His smirk grew wider as you wrapped your legs around his waist, securing him in place. His hands travel down to your lower back. "Steady now." you whispered, your focus unwavering as you traced the eyeliner underneath his eye, perfectly recreating his daily look.

Ryusei's response was a low chuckle, his fuchsia eyes staring into yours. "Y’know baby, I could get used to this.~" he said, his voice a soft rumble. "You dolling me up, I mean." You rolled your eyes, hoping he wouldn’t realize the effect his words have on you. You focused on his other eye, dragging the liner. "Don't get too comfortable, this is a one time thing." you replied, though the playful tone of your voice suggested otherwise.

Once done, you pulled back to inspect your work, very satisfied at your perfect execution. Ryusei turned his gaze to the mirror, a grin spreading across his face as he saw the result.

"Damn, boo,! you've got skills!" he praised, giving you a quick deep kiss. As you capped the eyeliner, Ryusei leaned back to inspect your work in the mirror, a satisfied smirk playing on his lips.

"I look good enough to pull Sae, don't cha think?" he said, the playfulness in his voice designed to nudge at your patience. You rolled your eyes, smirking, unable to resist the bait he dangled. "Maybe,- Sae has a brother right? Rin? Oh, he doesn’t wear eyeliner cause y’know, he just has that natural charm." You quipped, a cat-like grin stretched across your lips.

Ryusei's playful demeanor faltered for a split second, a hint of competitiveness peeking through when you mentioned Rin.

But rather than the expected retort, his comeback caught you off guard.

"Rin, huh?" he mused, a sly grin replacing any feigned hurt. "Well, let him keep his charm. I've got something better." Before you could ask what that 'something better' was, Ryusei's arms wrapped around you, lifting you effortlessly. You squealed at the sudden movement, his strength and speed never ceasing to amaze.

He carried you to the bed, your laughter echoing off the walls, a perfect melody to his ears. With a soft hard toss, you found yourself lying on his bed, the air knocked slightly out of you, only for Ryusei to immediately follow, collapsing on top of you, officially having the air knocked out of you.

His face hovered inches from yours, his breath mingling with your own.

"And what's that?" you finally managed to say. Ryusei's eyes peered down at your waiting ones. "You~" he whispered. You smiled, how cheesy could he possibly get? The playful yet sincere tone of his voice couldn’t help but tug at your heartstrings."You're my secret weapon! Rin can keep his charm. Cause I've got something sooooo much better." He finished, pressing a quick kiss to your lips.

The room fell into a comfortable silence, filled only with your intertwined breaths and the soft sound of you running your fingers through his hair.

It was okay if he messed up his eyeliner, if it meant you’d do it for him.

WAS IT GOOD OR AM I PROUD OF DOGSHIT??

made April 5th 2024

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tosomeonessomeone · 8 months

Text

Intertwined.

words・3.2k /pairings・Bang Chan x reader / genres・fluff, humor, little angst/ warnings・ none

You’ve been working with Stray Kids for a long time as an artist and visual creator for the group, you and Bang Chan are really close due to being both 97’s liners.

The dance studio pulsated with tension as Chan grappled with intricate moves, each step echoing his mounting frustration. Minho's concerned gaze caught Chan's eye, "Hey, Chan, something's off. You seem distracted."

Chan let out a heavy sigh, "Yeah, it's been one of those days. Everything feels like it's falling apart."

As they retreated to the break area, the atmosphere grew more strained with the members bickering over trivial matters. Felix raised his voice, "Can we just focus, guys? This isn't helping anyone."

Chan, feeling the weight of the day pressing down on him, rubbed his temples. "I need a break," he muttered, escaping the heated exchange.

Silently, Chan sought refuge in your studio, a sanctuary amidst the chaos. As he entered, you looked up from your work, sensing the distress in his eyes. "Rough day?" you asked.

Chan slumped onto a chair, "You have no idea. Dance practice was a disaster, and the members are at each other's throats. I just needed some peace."

You nodded sympathetically, "Take your time. I'm here if you need to talk."

The frustration lingered as Chan paced around the studio. "This song is just not coming together! We're running out of time, and it's driving me crazy," he vented, frustration evident in every word.

Approaching cautiously, you offered, "Chan, take a deep breath. We'll figure it out, like we always do."

He shot you a sharp look, "It's not that simple! Do you even understand the pressure we're under?"

"I do, Chan. But snapping won't help. Let's talk it through," you urged, attempting to diffuse the tension.

He scoffed, "Talking won't magically make the song perfect! We need results, not empty words."

Remaining calm, you said, "I'm not trying to provide empty words. I'm here to support you, but yelling won't change anything."

Frustration boiling over, Chan exclaimed, "Support? I need more than support! I need solutions, and it feels like you're not getting it!"

Taking a deep breath, you carefully responded, "I'm on your side, Chan. We're a team, and we'll find a way together. But lashing out won't solve anything. Let's step back and rethink our approach."

He sighed, a mix of anger and exhaustion in his eyes, "I know, I just… I'm sorry. This is so much pressure, and I didn't mean to snap."

You nodded, "It's okay. We all have our moments. Let's take a break, clear our heads, and come back to it with a fresh perspective. We've got this, Chan."

As the tension gradually subsided, you both understood the challenges you faced but also the strength of your partnership to overcome them.

You extended your hand towards Chan, offering a silent gesture of reconciliation. He hesitated for a moment, then slowly lifted his hand to hold yours. The touch, though tentative, spoke volumes about the unspoken bond between you.

You guided him towards the couch, and as you both sat down, a heavy silence hung in the air. "Chan, I know it's tough," you began softly, "but we can navigate through this. We always do."

He sighed, his shoulders slumping, "I just get overwhelmed sometimes, you know? It feels like the weight of everything is on my shoulders."

You nodded, squeezing his hand gently, "You don't have to carry it all alone. We're a team, remember?"

A small smile tugged at the corners of his lips, "Yeah, a team. I forget that sometimes."

"It happens," you reassured, "but we're in this together." The room was filled with a comforting silence as you both absorbed the shared understanding.

Chan finally broke the quietude, "Thank you for being patient with me. I don't say it enough, but I appreciate you."

"I know," you replied with a soft smile, "and I appreciate you too, Chan. Let's tackle this challenge together, one step at a time."

As the weight of the argument lifted, you both leaned back on the couch, finding solace in the shared space. The connection between you spoke of a partnership resilient enough to weather storms, and the quiet moments that followed were a testament to the strength you found in each other.

Feeling the need for a break, you suggested, "How about we take the rest of the night off, Chan? We could use a breather."

He nodded in agreement, "Yeah, a break sounds good. My head's been spinning with the music."

You both settled on the couch, legs stretched out on a large puff in front of you. "What do you feel like eating?" you asked.

Chan thought for a moment, "Let's go with something comforting. How about ramen and dumplings?"

"Perfect choice," you grinned, reaching for your phone to place an order.

While waiting for the food, Chan scrolled through the movie options. "How about this one?" he suggested, showing you the screen.

You nodded in approval, "Sounds good to me. Anything to take our minds off things for a while."

As the food arrived, you both dug into the delicious spread of ramen and dumplings. The tension from earlier slowly dissipated, replaced by the warmth of shared comfort food. The movie played, casting a soft glow in the room.

Chan stole a glance at you, "Thanks for this. I needed a break more than I realized."

"You're welcome," you replied, "Sometimes stepping back is the best way to find a new perspective."

*your pov*

As the movie played on the screen, my thoughts swirled like a whirlwind. The atmosphere was relaxed, the air tinged with the comforting scent of the food we just enjoyed. Yet, there was a subtle undercurrent of unspoken emotions.

Feeling the weight of the day's events, I contemplated our journey together. Chan's dedication and passion were evident in every note he crafted, yet the toll of creative struggles was undeniable. The realization dawned that sometimes, in the silence between shared glances, words weren't necessary.

In a moment of unspoken connection, I decided to lean my head on Chan's shoulder. It was a subtle move, a gesture seeking solace and understanding. The soft fabric of his shirt provided a tangible reassurance, a quiet acknowledgment of the bond we shared.

As my head rested against him, I could almost feel the tension dissipate. The movie continued to play, but my attention was drawn to the rhythm of his heartbeat. There was an unexpected intimacy in this simple act, as if the proximity ignited a flutter within both of us.

I stole a glance at Chan, and our eyes met briefly. In that moment, it felt like our hearts were engaged in a silent conversation, exchanging sentiments that words struggled to convey. I sensed a subtle shift, a recognition of vulnerability and strength entwined.

For Chan, my head on his shoulder seemed to unleash a cascade of emotions. The rise and fall of his chest quickened, a heartbeat echoing the unspoken understanding that enveloped us. It was a moment frozen in time, where the complexities of the day faded into the background, leaving room for an uncharted connection that pulsed between us.

*Chan pov*

As her head gently found its place on my shoulder, a mix of emotions stirred within me. The weight of the day's frustrations lingered, but her silent gesture offered an unexpected balm. I could feel the subtle warmth radiating from her, a connection transcending words.

My mind raced, contemplating the intricacies of our partnership. Her support was unwavering, a pillar that held me steady amidst the creative storms. In that moment, as the soft fabric of my shirt cradled her head, I couldn't help but acknowledge the depth of our bond.

Her presence felt like a lifeline, a silent reassurance that we were navigating the challenges together. The movie played on, but my focus shifted to the rhythm of our shared heartbeat. The vulnerability of the day seemed to dissolve in the quiet intimacy of this simple act.

As I stole a glance at her, our eyes met briefly, and a surge of warmth pulsed through me. It wasn't just the weight of the day that quickened my heartbeat; it was the realization that our connection ran deeper than the melodies we created. It was a shared journey, marked by unspoken understanding.

Her head on my shoulder seemed to unlock a reservoir of emotions. The uncharted territory of vulnerability and strength interwoven echoed in the accelerated beats of my heart. In this unassuming moment, I found solace and a silent promise that, no matter the challenges, we faced them united, and that, perhaps, there was more to our connection than even I had realized.

*end of povs*

As the movie wove its story on the screen, a quiet tranquility settled between you. The weight of the day gave way to a shared moment of solace, and the air held a delicate sense of connection.

In a subtle shift, Chan's fingers brushed against yours, and without a word, he reached out to intertwine your hands together. It was a gesture both gentle and firm, a silent agreement that spoke volumes. The warmth of his touch sent a reassuring current through you, a reminder that, despite the challenges, you were navigating this journey hand in hand.

The intertwining of your fingers became a dance of unspoken understanding—a language that surpassed the need for words, a silent promise echoing the depth of your connection. In that shared grasp, the complexities of the day seemed to fade, leaving behind a sense of unity resonating between your intertwined hands.

As your fingers found their natural fit, you stole a glance at Chan. His expression mirrored a subtle mix of reassurance and vulnerability—a moment frozen in time, a bridge between the challenges you faced and the uncharted territories that lay ahead.

The movie continued to play, but the real narrative unfolded in the intertwining of your fingers—a quiet acknowledgment that, no matter the twists and turns, your hands would navigate the journey together.

As your intertwined fingers created a connection, a comfortable silence enveloped you. The movie played in the background, providing a soothing soundtrack to your unspoken conversation.

The soft glow of the studio lights created an intimate atmosphere as you gazed into Chan’s deep brown eyes, a gentle smile on your face. "You know, one of the things I love most is seeing you feel loved by your members. Despite the hardships, the way you guys support each other is truly heartwarming."

Chan's eyes reflected gratitude, "Yeah, they mean everything to me. Their support has been my anchor."

You nodded, "And now, it's made me realize something important."

Curiosity flickered in Chan's gaze, "What is it?"

"I want you to feel loved and cherished by me too," you confessed, "just like you do with your members. You deserve that, Chan, and I want to be the one to give it to you."

A warmth spread across Chan's face, a mix of surprise and appreciation. "You'd do that for me?"

"Absolutely," you assured, "you've shown me your vulnerabilities, and I want you to know that I'm here for you, just as you've been for your members. You deserve all the love and support, and I'm ready to be a part of that for you."

As the weight of your words settled in the air, Chan's expression shifted from surprise to a profound sense of gratitude. It was a moment of mutual understanding, a bridge between the support he received from his members and the love he was now willing to accept from you.

You couldn't help but glance at Chan, a soft smile playing on your lips. "You know," you began, "seeing you well, in your element, it just… makes my heart flutter."

He turned to you, a hint of surprise in his eyes, "Really? I thought I was a bit of a mess today."

You chuckled, "Everyone has those days. But the way you handle it, your dedication, it's inspiring. And being here for you, supporting you, it just feels right."

Chan's gaze held a warmth that mirrored your sentiments, "You have this way of making everything feel a bit lighter. I appreciate that more than you know."

You grinned, "Well, if you ever need someone to share the weight, I'm here. Always."

His expression softened, "That means a lot. It's reassuring to know you're by my side through all of this."

You nodded, "Absolutely. We're a team, right?"

He squeezed your hand gently, "Right. A team." The acknowledgment lingered in the air, and in that moment, the unspoken promise of always being there for each other became a quiet foundation beneath the surface of your connection.

As the movie's glow painted the room, Chan took a deep breath, his eyes reflecting a mix of vulnerability and determination. "I need to be honest with you," he began, his words measured yet sincere.

You turned your attention fully to him, a sense of curiosity and anticipation in the air. "What's on your mind, Chan?"

He ran his free hand through his hair, a subtle nervous gesture. "Over the past few months of working together, I've come to realize that just being part of a team with you might not be enough for me."

A quiet intensity settled between you, and you searched his eyes for understanding. "What do you mean?"

Chan met your gaze, "I've been feeling… more. More than just collaboration. It's like, every shared moment, every challenge we overcome, it's been building up. And I can't ignore it anymore."

Your heart skipped a beat as the weight of his words sank in. "Chan, what are you trying to say?"

He took a moment before confessing, "I think I've developed feelings for you, more than just professional admiration. I care about you deeply, and I can't help but imagine a future where it's not just about the music, but about us, together."

A blend of surprise and warmth enveloped you. "Chan, I never saw this coming."

He nodded, "I know it's unexpected, but I needed to be honest with you. I've been grappling with these feelings, and it felt like the right time to share them."

The room hung in a delicate silence, the weight of Chan's revelation echoing in the air. It was a turning point, an acknowledgment that the dynamics between you had shifted beyond the realm of collaboration, and the uncharted territory you now faced held the potential for something deeper.

Chan chuckled, breaking the emotional tension, "You know what made me realize it even more? It's those moments when you're just… you. Like when you decide it's a good idea to get me all dirty with paint, or when you declare a spa day because you can't deal with your artwork anymore."

You couldn't help but laugh at the memories. "Guilty as charged. I might be a bit unconventional with stress relief."

He grinned, "And that's what I love. Those silly moments, the laughter – it's when I feel closest to you. Like that time we had face masks and painted each other's nails."

You chuckled, "I didn't think you'd enjoy that."

Chan shrugged, "Honestly, it was one of the best days. It made me realize how much I appreciate not just the artist in you, but the person. The one who's not afraid to be a bit goofy, to let loose."

The sincerity in his voice melted away any lingering uncertainty. "Chan, I appreciate your honesty. These feelings, they're not one-sided," you admitted, "Those moments we share, they mean a lot to me too."

As the weight of his confession and your shared laughter lingered in the air, it became clear that your connection had transcended the professional realm. The acknowledgment of deeper feelings was met with a warmth that extended beyond the art studio, painting a canvas of possibilities for the journey ahead.

Chan's laughter filled the room, a contagious sound that lightened the atmosphere. "And you know what really got to me?" he continued, "When you started recreating all those memes from the group. Like that time you screamed 'Ice cream!' just like Minho."

You grinned, "Well, Minho's enthusiasm is contagious. I couldn't resist."

Chan chuckled, "You nailed it. I couldn't stop laughing. And then there was the moment you sang 'Listen to my heart beat' just like Chanbin. I think that's when I realized, I love seeing you be a part of our craziness."

You blushed, "I never expected my attempts at humor to have such an impact."

"It's not just the humor," Chan explained, "It's the fact that you're willing to dive into our world, to be a part of it. It's endearing, and I can't help but be drawn to it."

As your laughter echoed through the room, it became another layer of your connection—one that transcended the challenges of music and embraced the joyous, silly moments that brought you closer. The acknowledgment of these shared experiences added a touch of lightheartedness to the depth of emotions already present in the room.

As the glow of the TV casting a soft ambiance. Your eyes met Chan's gaze, there was an unspoken understanding, a connection that transcended words. A subtle shift occurred as your fingers brushed against each other's arms. The touch was gentle, tentative, yet filled with a mutual yearning for the uncharted.

Chan leaned in slowly, his eyes shifting from yours to your lips. The anticipation hung in the air, a sweet tension building. You found yourself doing the same, drawn to the magnetic pull of this unexplored territory.

In that moment of suspended time, your lips met in a sweet, lingering kiss. It was a delicate fusion of emotions—affection, longing, and the acknowledgment of something new and beautiful. Chan's hand cradled your cheek, his thumb brushing against it softly, deepening the connection between you.

The kiss unfolded in a slow dance, a merging of two souls discovering a shared melody. The studio, once filled with the echoes of music, now held the harmonious rhythm of your intertwined emotions.

Time seemed to melt away, forgotten in the tender exchange between you and Chan. The once-muted movie now a distant hum, overshadowed by the quiet symphony of shared emotions. As you shifted, Chan's hands found your hips beneath the oversized t-shirt, a subtle reassurance that echoed the newfound connection.

With a gentle motion, Chan helped you transition, and you found yourself straddling his lap. The warmth of his touch lingered through the fabric, creating a cocoon of intimacy. The shared gaze spoke volumes, revealing a depth of understanding that transcended spoken words.

Your arm circled around his neck, fingers gently tangling in his soft, curly hair. The texture was a testament to the authenticity of the moment, the tangible connection grounding you both in the reality of this shared space.

As your bodies intertwined, the studio became a canvas for a different kind of art—one painted with shared glances, lingering touches, and the quiet melody of your breaths. The oversized t-shirt draped loosely, a symbol of the vulnerability and ease that enveloped you.

Chan's hands on your hips and the soft strands of his hair entwined with your fingers created an unspoken language—a dance of intimacy that deepened with each passing moment. The movie, now a mere backdrop, faded into the periphery as your shared connection took center stage.

hey guys, this is my first time posting my writing here! hope you enjoy it.

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