#so he's not in punching mode. yet.

[bmpmp3]

a bit of a mild milgram fan (i adore the music and music videos but i still havent checked out a lot of the dramas but i still vote because i like being involved LOL) and i feel like giving my unsolicited opinions on season 2 so far. even though it makes perfect sense based off what i see from the fanbase that Futa was voted innocent BUT as someone who was largely neutral but uninterested (aside from his awesome song) in his character in season 1, season 2 made me actually really REALLY like him but in particular way where i want to see that little twerp squirm so im SO sad no one else voted him guilty q-q i WANTED to see him suffer for the NARRATIVE

also I think Mu should be voted innocent because she slays

[entirelysein-e]

『 Their hand slips 』

☼ synopsis: Their hand (almost) slips and puts a strain on your relationship

☼ characters: Toji, Yuuta, Inumaki

☼ wc: 4.3k

☼ cw: dark content! fem!reader, Toji being a good husband and almost snapping, getting pushed by Rika and slapped (accidentally during a playfight with Inumaki), Toge using his technique on you, overall sogginess, hurt to comfort

☼ notes: I am by no means glorifying domestic violence - this fic is not about this topic. If you or a loved one experience abuse in a relationship please reach out to the police or a qualified counselor / hotline for help!

ˑ༄ؘ ۪۪۫۫ ▹ Toji:

Being with Toji has always been a rollercoaster of emotions but you never doubted his love for you, despite him being rough around the edges. Yes, he might disappear for days, sometimes weeks after a fight but he never once lifted his hand or indicated that he would physically hurt you. If the fight was over something dumb you would usually end up in the bedroom to get his anger out in a fun way while making up again.

You don't even know what started the fight today, was it the dishes he didn't do? Perhaps he left the laundry in the laundry machine? All you know is that you've been screaming at each other for well over an hour, your throat already sore but you wouldn't stop now. Toji was just beyond annoyed at your little tantrum, at least that's what it was to him. “I said I'll take care of it, didn't I? The day isn't over yet” he tried the calm way at first, his jaw clenching in frustration when you screamed back how tired you are from work.

Things carried on like this for a while, Toji losing his cool after you screamed at him right away and he started to scream back until you were only throwing around profanities. At least until you said something you shouldn't have “No wonder your last two wives left you, you live like a damn pig”. It wasn't too bad but it was a sore topic for him and his hand raised… simply staying up in the air without ever connecting to your face but it was enough for you to flinch away. Toji's jaw tensed up further, his teeth almost cracking from the pure pressure when he realized what he almost did - crossing a boundary that should never be crossed and you looked at him like he's a monster now. Perhaps he was and you were right, make it three wives, it's deserved now that his hand almost struck you.

Ever so slowly he brought his hand down from its spot up in the air, trying not to startle you further when he reached to cup your cheek, the anger in his eyes turning to desperation. Out of reflex you flinched from his touch, your body still in flight mode from almost getting struck by him and Toji recoiled his hand quickly while nodding to himself. The anger flamed up behind his eyes once again upon realizing just how bad he had fucked up. Anger rose up and he couldn't contain himself any longer “FUCK” he roared, making you stumble backwards just to get away from him before he punched a hole into the wall. You barely recognized the man in front of you since he'd never been this violent around you or directed at you. The thought of drawing a single breath of air scared you with him raging around and you simply held your breath, your entire body shaking like a leaf in a heavy storm, but before you found your voice again he stormed out of your shared home, grabbing his coat on the way out of the front door.

Relief was the first thing flooding your mind when you finally felt like you could exhale once again, the air less tense with him out of the room and upon looking around your usually tidy kitchen, you saw the battlefield he'd left behind. The hole in the wall gaping and your favorite candle holder, the one he gifted you simply because you thought the cat warming its paws looked so cute, now on the floor and shattered into hundreds of small pieces. You didn't care much for the cushions laying around or the chairs scattered across the room but you cradled the severed porcelain head of the small cat to your chest as you fell to your knees when the first wave of shock wore off. Toji had left. He's gone now and given how both of you crossed boundaries and he almost hit you, didn't give you much hope for his return. A bitter laugh crossed your sobs when you thought of the small candle holder scattered and how it represented your broken relationship.

After what felt like an eternity on the floor you had the courage to get up once again, slowly putting things back to where they used to stand before picking up each and every piece of Tojis present. You needed to get your mind off of his departure, he sure would return - latest when he had to get his things- you told yourself, trying to calm the mess that was your head. Dedicated you brought he pieces to the living room where his show was running as always, your favorite background noise in your daily life and piece by piece you glued the little candle holder back together until it looked somewhat what it used to and it gave you hope - perhaps you could do the same to your relationship?

Once the distraction wore off you found yourself sitting on the unusually empty couch, sitting on his favorite spot and the silence was deafening, the show stopped playing a while ago, Netflix asking you if you're still watching and the tears started to form in your eyes once again. Perhaps he will be back soon? Your hope wore thinner with every hour that has passed, only hoping that he will come back eventually one day at this point. Sure, you've had worse fights with him but it never got physical, this one felt much more charged and intense than all the others before so perhaps he's sick of the constant fighting, sick of you…

Slowly you sunk your face into the pillow on the couch and brought your knees to your chest as you wept, his show now playing once again to bring you at least a little comfort as you drifted off into a restless slumber, the moment where he almost struck you replaying in your head over and over again.

Toji wandered around the Block at first, contemplating to get drunk out o his mind and simply disappearing out of your life forever since he has nothing to offer to you but his heart and body, but now he wasn't sure if that was enough - if he was enough and he hated these thoughts. He could have any woman he wanted so why is he so damn attached to you? Answers didn't come by as he sat down in the park and gulped down a cheap beer but the longer he sat there the more reasons he found just why he was with you and how you made him feel things no one managed to ignite in so long. It was clear to him that he would need to go back, that he would need to fix things with you, for his own sake because he'd be lost without you once again.

By the time Toji got up from the old bench at the park it was almost morning already, the bird chirping softly in the trees and he took a deep breath in, preparing himself to lose you once and for all since he couldn't force you to forgive him after ever but he would promise to be better, he vowed to be a good partner and later on to be a good husband to you and not once did he make you regret trusting him since he was always nothing but good to you. His posture was slightly slouched when he entered the apartment, ready to find the mess he left behind in the kitchen but it looked as if nothing ever happened here - aside from the hole in the wall that felt like a plow to his guts. That could have been your face, realization setting in once again over what happened and how badly he damaged the trust in this relationship with his cowardly reaction.

Shaking his head at his thought he made his way back to the front door, only to be met by your weak voice somewhere behind him. “Toji?” was all you asked, your voice sounding tired and so fragile from hours of crying and he flinched, dreading your next words. “Don't leave… please,” You continue and sit up now to look at him. “I'm just here to get my thi- you want me to stay?” He sounded rather surprised that you didn't send him out, cussing him and his entire bloodline out as he got his things. Toji was so prepared for rejection he didn't even consider you would want him to stay, but you did, so he dragged himself over to the couch where you sat, waiting to face him. Your bloodshot eyes shocked him, have you been crying all night over him? Over the situation or perhaps the divorce you'd surely want?

“I'm sorry,” was all that he croaked out, his ego crushed and the confidence that usually radiated off of him was entirely gone, he was nothing but a miserable pile in front of you in this moment. It took you a minute or two to fully register his words - his apology and you simply nodded, knowing he wasn't great with words and especially apologies. Silence fell upon both of you once again, unsure how to go on from here, both of you uncomfortable with the situation. You were the first to find your words again, having spent the night thinking about what you wanted and ultimately what you will say to him but right now this was all thrown out of the window when you looked at him and reached out for his hands, trying to show that you're no longer scared.

“Listen to me. If you ever raise a hand to me again, Toji Fushiguru, I will cut out your heart and eat it for breakfast, do you understand me?” You asked with a much more secure voice and it almost scared him because he knew you took that threat seriously, but a smirk tugged at the corner of his lips now. “That's my wife,” he chuckled a little, wondering if he extinguished your flame with fear but you weren't one to crumble, not from him or his foolish actions.

Unasked Toji whisked you up into his strong arms and carried you to the bedroom, refusing to let go of you for even a second as he smothered you between his arms and chest. Things weren't okay and they won't be for a while but at least you knew that he was willing to work on himself and you were willing to stay, so things could be alright again one day.

ˑ༄ؘ ۪۪۫۫ ▹ Yuuta:

You were always Yuuta's first priority and he never failed to make it clear that you knew that there's no one and nothing that's more important to him than you. Yet he had to save the world as usually, exorcizing a curse here, helping out there and more often than not you found yourself alone in your shared home, talks limited to texts and phone calls. He tried his hardest to make sure you're always on his mind even if he's not physically with you, especially then but you slowly felt like this wasn't the case. It felt like he was running away from home, from you to be alone, to be with Rika rather than you for the old days sake.

This gut wrenching thought became especially painful when you ran into him in the grocery store when he claimed to be on the other side of the world and not in fact in the same grocery store or even the same city. You didn't want to cause a scene, not there out of all places so you abandoned your shopping cart and walked out, ignoring the hurt puppy look from your boyfriend. Dropping the chocolates he held previously he charged after you “Wait, please. Let me explain!” he called after you and caught up with your rather fast pace but you didn't pay any attention to him, fearing the worst.

And sometimes your own mind can be the worst enemy as you now convinced yourself that Yuuta was leading some sort of double life, a secret life hidden away from you and you didn't want to see his face for a second longer. When the young man held onto your wrist to get you to stop running from him it felt as if your skin was burning, quickly tugging your hand out of his grasp and glaring at him. “Stop causing a damn scene, Okkotsu” you hissed under your breath and Yuuta knew he was in trouble by the way you only used his last name, so much venom behind your words. All he wanted to do was surprise you with your favorite flowers and some sweets since he was home almost an entire week earlier and he didn't understand the tantrum you were throwing at that moment. Yes, he did lie to you and told you he won't be home for at least another 5 days but he was already on his way back to you, his home. Was he wrong that he wanted to surprise you just to have you jump into his arms five days earlier than initially planned?

The walk home was awkward and silent, the air around you two charged with strong emotions and unspoken words - words none of you dared to speak until the front door to your apartment was closed and you whipped around, facing him with an expression full of anger and hurt. “Why did you lie to me? Am I not good enough for you anymore?” You immediately asked, letting your inner fear take over instead of trying to think rationally but Yuuta immediately shook his head. “It's not like that, I promise!” His voice was rather submissive, hating to have fights with you, especially out of the dumbest reasons but you couldn't contain your anger, your presence alone making him take a step back. He knew you would never lay a hand on him but the air around you was so thick he feared to suffocate if he couldn't keep some distance. “Don't come at me with that bullshit, Yuuta. You promised not to lie to me and here you are… avoiding me despite being back. Do you have someone else? Do you miss Rika so much you can't bear to be with me?” You questioned, taking steps towards your boyfriend despite his silent plea to keep distance. It's unfair of you to bring Rika up in this situation, both of you knew this but you didn't care. The way he was always talking about her started to gnaw at your heart, slowly building a deep insecurity that you're just someone he settled for because he couldn't have the one he wanted. Perhaps he found a better replacement? That was your initial thought when you saw him smiling to himself at the grocery store. Little do you know he was thinking about your gleeful smile when he came home early.

Yuuta barely opened his mouth after what felt like an eternity of silence when he reached for your hands, hoping you let him explain, hoping you calm down enough to start thinking rationally. “Please, just listen, okay?” He started, his voice small since he didn't want things to escalate, fearing to lose you as much as you feared the same. You were his anchor, his safety vest out in the ocean that kept him afloat when everything was against him. He made the mistake of touching you, trying to get closer to you when you were so charged and it made you feel crowded, pushing him off of you so he let go of your wrists. He would have let go if only you asked, showing him he made you uncomfortable but before he could stop it, it was already too late.

Rika pushed you away from him, much harsher than he would have ever allowed and he recoiled, backing away from your curled up body after you were sent flying against the wall, several feet behind you.

The sight of your body on the floor and the little noise you let out upon the collision shattered his heart. Sure, Rika just wanted to protect him from harm but you would have never seriously hurt him and he was in shambles, trying to figure out what to do now that one of his biggest fears became reality. It took you a few seconds to realize what had just happened, just sitting up and blinking at Yuuta who looked paler than usual, his body frozen to the spot as he watched you with wide eyes. The way you looked around made him aware of how dizzy you must feel since your head hit the wall - at least there was no blood on your hands when you checked the back of your head reluctantly.

“Yuuta?” You asked him as you teared up, knowing that it was just an accident. The young man snapped out of his trance-like state upon hearing your voice, softly asking him for comfort but he couldn't give that to you, not if he was the one who hurt you in the first place.

His head snapped around, looking for a way out of there, perhaps he could jump out of the window or would it be too high? The sound of his heartbeat picking up was deafening, the only thing he heard in that moment and it only fueled the anxiety further. But it was your utterly desperate voice calling out to him once again that snapped him out of his fight or flight reaction, panicked eyes finally looking at your teary ones and his body reacted on its own. Without a further moment passing he dropped to his knees beside you and cradled your body in his arms, holding you close. You knew he didn't hurt you and it was just a reaction of Rika so you weren't angry, but your body still hurt as you wept into his embrace, body trembling with each sob that wrecked through it. “I'm so sorry my love” kept falling off his lips like a whispered mantra as he gently rocked you back and forth in his arms in hopes that it's enough to calm both of you down - even if it's just a little bit.

Hours later and neither of you had moved. You were still cradled in Yuuta's lap, arms wrapped securely around you and he still looked at you as if he just broke the most valuable thing he ever owned. “I’m sorry that I made you angry,” you eventually broke the silence that just felt heavy to you but he quickly shook his head “don't… it's not your fault I lost control,” he began and kissed your temple, his lips resting against your delicate skin for a moment before you felt them move as he continued to speak. “I should have told you I'm home earlier, the flowers would have been a surprise regardless, I'm sorry I made you doubt my love for you.” He whispered against your temple, earnest regret in his voice. Yuuta knew he was gone too much lately and if the roles were reversed he would have had doubts as well so he couldn't blame you.

Unsure how to answer, you nod softly and your hands clutch onto him just a little tighter. “We will make things better,” you eventually mumble, reassuring the both of you that despite what has happened, things will be okay again and you can work past this accident.

ˑ༄ؘ ۪۪۫۫ ▹ Inumaki:

You never felt scared or threatened by Inumaki, he was always more than sweet to you and despite his cursed speech you never feared anything. He fell in love with you the day he found out you learned sign language for him and hasn't left your side ever since. You two were inseparable to the point of his friends automatically speaking of the both of you instead of just an individual and it was you who understood his few words better than anyone.

Laughter echoed through his small apartment when he pinned you to the bed with just one hand, the other traveling down to your sides to tickle you. Your laughter was one of his favorite noises, your smile his favorite sight and he wished he could tell you, scream out how much he loves you but he would never dare to say such things out loud, scared it manipulates you somehow and you're with him against your will. That was his worst nightmare, one that often haunted him at night and he woke up distressed while frantically searching for his phone. It's the same over and over again “You're with me because it's what you want, right?” He texts and awaits your answer as he picks the skin on his fingers anxiously. “I’m with you because my heart chose you” you tell him every time before his phone even unlocks - already knowing what plagues his handsome head.

Your sweet giggle brought him back to the little play fight you two just had and the way you were trying so hard to overpower him despite knowing you would never succeed. This thought never scared you, since you knew he would never use it against you or hold you down when you wouldn't want it. It was all just playful banter until he wanted to catch your wrist after you freed it but miscalculated, sending his hand right against your cheek with such strength the slap echoed off the walls followed by your whimper. You didn't need to push him off of your body, Inumaki got up right away, the tears that started to form in your eyes causing him to panic slowly. He frantically tried to sign “I'm sorry it was an accident” over and over but it felt like his hands knotted up by the speed and you didn't look at him, turning away as the tears started rolling down your cheeks. You weren't mad at him, knowing it was an accident but it still hurt you - the tears only a reaction of your body to the stinging pain that traveled through your face.

But the way you refused to even look towards him frustrated the young man and despite his efforts to get your attention you simply rose from the corner of the bed and left the room. Of course he was chasing after you, tapping you, holding your wrist, whining… he tried so hard to get just a sliver of your attention when you clearly didn't want to give that to him right now and he felt wrongfully punished. “Stop crying and come here” these words slipped past his lips with such desperation, he couldn't even stop himself before saying them out loud and his hands slapped over his mouth the second he realized what he'd done.

No matter how hard you tried to stop yourself, your body acted on its own accord as the tears dried and your feet walked over to him. Your face was one of utter shock and betrayal that he would do this to you, accident or not.

Inumaki pulled your body close and held you in a tight embrace despite every fiber in his body screaming not to do it, it felt so wrong to him but he needed you to forgive him, for accidentally hurting you, for putting you through manipulation. When he pulled back he was met with your face full of hurt and anger, which he deserved. “Please hit me back. We can be even” he signed once, twice… but you looked away, pinching the bridge of your nose as you took a step back to put some space between the white haired man and yourself. You wanted to scream, to explode at him but you collected yourself and looked at him with a cold expression. “Can you just stop?! I don't care that you hit me,” you started but lost your cool quickly and it came out more snappy than intended “we were play fighting, it happens. But you can't just crowd me and demand me to do things… and you surely can't fucking manipulate me!” Your voice rose in volume at the last part since this hurt you more than the accidental hit to your face.

Inumaki looked at you like a kicked puppy, eyes big and his face sinking into the collar of his sweater further so he can hide. He was beyond ashamed for his actions and didn't want to speak, the desperation clouding his mind and forgetting for just a split second that his words have immediate consequences and despite his best effort of not speaking, he can mess up.

With trembling hands he started signing apologies, begging for your forgiveness over and over until his shoulders started trembling and in a last effort he signed words unclear but you knew what he meant “please hold me” You whispered as he signed it and sighed. Realizing that he's more affected by this than you were and that he really had no malicious intentions you pulled your lover close, comforting him and yourself as his arms wrapped around you tightly, hands clutching to the fabric of your shirt. “Love” he mumbled out aloud, knowing this one word won't make you do anything but it was the first time you heard him say that he loves you out aloud. “I love you too” you whispered back, cheek still aching from the way his hand slipped but right now your heart needed healing from the betrayal of getting manipulated. Both, you and Toge were sure that this was a cut in your relationship but the bond you shared will act as a bandaid and you will be okay again, especially since he will be more careful now.

Networks: @pixelcafe-network @interstellar-inn @houseofsolisoccasum

[jeonginsleftcheek]

Code to your heart

pairing: lee felix x amab!reader

genre: fluff, smut

word count: 12.5k

description: Felix pines over his oblivious coworker. But a new project at the office becomes a chance for him to get closer to his crush.

warning/s: swearing, time skips, masturbation, lots of mutual pining, mc and felix are both oblivious, oral, handjobs, cum swapping, kinda public sex, protected sex, bulge kink for a moment, dirty talk, praising, light bondage, lots of aftercare (lmk if i missed something)

a/n: i enjoyed imagining and writing this so much and i am so proud of it, i hope y'all enjoy this too!🥹🫶🏻

~check out my: Masterlist

How long has it been since you haven't moved from your desk? Four, five, six hours? You've lost track of time, your brows are furrowed, eyes red from lack of sleep, your bottom lip caught between your teeth, nimble fingers gliding over the keyboard.

You haven't gotten up to get your coffee refilled yet or to eat. You didn't even notice your cup was almost empty. But Felix noticed.

He notices everything about you. Like how you only come to the office Mondays, Thursdays and Fridays. Those are the days he looks forward to the most. Your favorite color must be black because that's mostly what you wear. You have a favorite pair of jeans, black with rips on your thighs. Felix's eyes always linger a little longer on your legs when you wear those.

You take your coffee black too, your eyes always closed when you take the first sip. Felix's face scrunches up when he imagines the bitter taste of it. You run your hand through your hair multiple times whenever you're frustrated, only to have it fall back into your eyes. You bite your lower lip when you concentrate.

Felix could go on and on, and does that make him creepy? No, he is just observant and you're his favorite person to observe.

You're oblivious to this, not even sparing a single glance towards your secret admirer. Somehow, you always turn your brain into work mode, tunnel vision only for the two screens before you as you type out your code.

Felix doesn't mind this dynamic (if you could even call it that), he's too afraid to actually come up and talk to you. Looking at you from afar is kind of comforting. It's safe. It helps him get through the day. Whenever he's stressed about an error or a bug in his program, he can just look up, face almost completely hidden behind his screen as he glances at you, working a few tables away from him.

After all, the two of you do different things so you don't really cross paths or communicate a lot. Felix deals more with clients whereas you just like to put your headphones on and code. It's a safe space, you get to listen to your favorite music, be in your own little world, create from scratch, every word, number, symbol and parentheses typed out with vigor and purpose.

It's lovely to do work that fulfills you but it's also frustrating and lots of times it makes you want to pull your hair out or punch through your screen. But, it's nothing a good cup of strong coffee can't solve.

And Felix knows this. He knows that whenever you start feeling frustrated, you get up to get more coffee. He's at his desk, looking at you losing your mind. You're running your hand through your hair, biting your lip, shaking your leg. Something's got you worked up and Felix has been gathering his courage for three fucking months.

He's gonna do it. He will get up, get your coffee from the machine and he will bring it to you, strike up a conversation, maybe ask you out. His skin starts itching from nervousness and he has to get up right now, before he chickens out again.

Felix shuffles hurriedly to the machine, before you can get up and ruin his plan. He puts his coins into the machine and punches the button for black coffee. He glances back at you, your back now turned to him and he gulps as he looks at the broad expanse of your shoulders.

This really is not the right time to think about your shoulders or your arms, not when he's already so nervous to even come close to you. The machine beeps and Felix grabs the coffee, his heart leaping out his chest.

"Lix, hi!"- he almost bumps into his coworker Jisung as he turns around.

"Oh, hi Jisung."- Felix curses him in his mind. Wrong timing. Jisung is a blabbermouth and now he's going to ruin everything.

"Since when do you drink black coffee? I thought even dark chocolate was too strong for you."- Jisung smirks, poking fun at the poor boy.

"No, this is not for me. It's..."- Felix starts and then you're next to him suddenly. Well, next to the machine. And you drop your coins in and punch the button for the black coffee. Shit.

"It's what?"- Jisung tilts his head.

"Nothing, I gotta get back to my desk."- Felix mumbles, almost skipping back to his designated place, embarassment settling in his bones.

Stupid, stupid, stupid. Stupid Jisung. Why did he have to come in the wrong moment? Stupid Felix. Why can't he just come up and talk to you like a normal person? He groans, hiding his face in his hands, his body shrinking behind his desk. And that stupid cup of black coffee staring at him, mocking his predicament.

He can't even bring himself to look up at you, he feels so embarassed, as if you can read his mind and know what his intentions were. Felix sighs, fingers gliding over his keyboard, you didn't even acknowledge his existence when you came up to the coffee machine. If you were interested in him even a little bit you'd probably strike up a conversation, Felix thinks. He sees you communicating with some of your colleagues, laughing with them and he wishes he was the one causing that laugh and twinkle in your eye.

-

It's been a week since Felix's lame attempt at talking to you and he's contemplating what to do again. Should he try the same thing? Should he just come up to you like a normal grown up and say something like 'hey, I think you're hot, wanna go out?'. No, there's no way he would ever do something so bold. With his luck, he would probably accidentally do or say something embarassing and you'd never talk to him again.

But his luck is about to change.

"Felix, I need to see you in my office."- his boss comes up to his desk.

"Oh, okay."- Felix nods, confused if he did something wrong. He glances at your desk, but you're not sitting there anymore.

He takes a deep breath in, preparing himself mentally for whatever awaits for him in his boss's office. What he least expects is to see you sitting in one of the chairs.

Felix stops in his tracks, legs turning to jelly, his heart beating hard against his chest, hands shaking. How to breathe? Because he feels like he can't remember the basic things his body automatically does.

You turn around and look at him, your eyes traveling from his feet to the top of his head and Felix feels scrutinized. Fuck, is his hair messy? Did he fuck up his eyeliner this morning? Does he have something between his teeth? Did he accidentally forget to change out of his pjs before coming to work?

Felix's feels like his last brain cells have just abandoned him.

"I'm sure you two already made acquaintances, Felix and Y/n."- your boss gestures between the two of you with his hands, smiling like nothing important is happening. Like you aren't just two steps away from him, and he can smell your cologne and it's making him feel dizzy.

"Yeah, sure."- you nod, a small polite smile on your face, your eyes unreadable. Felix's chest vibrates with nerves, excitement rushing through his veins. You've noticed him?

"Yeah!"- he says, a little too enthusiastic and then cringes internally at himself.

"Well that's good because we have a huge project coming up. I've been monitoring both of your work recently, and I've decided that coupled with the skills you two have, the time you put into your work and your results, you'd be my best people for this."- your boss says and is Felix dreaming? Is he dreaming? Because this can't be for real.

"These are the clients files, Felix you will take care of the promotion and marketing, Y/n you will take care of coding and implementing the product. Ofcourse, this isn't something only the two of you can do so I'm also assigning you a team. But I want the two of you to come up with ideas how to implement this because through your creative work, I can see you have a similar thought process."- your boss explains, giving you a folder of documents.

You seem unphased as you flip through the pages while Felix is literally melting into a puddle, he wants to scream, cry or claw at the wall, or possibly all of the above.

"Questions?"- your boss asks.

"When can we start?"- you ask, ready to tackle any task you've been given.

"As soon as possible."

-

Felix follows you as you make your way out of your boss's office.

"Wanna get started right away?"- you ask.

"Yeah, sure, I just finished the last assignment I had."- Felix answers, trying to calm himself down and hoping to all the gods that he looks normal on the outside.

You nod, making your way towards your table where you leave the folder.

"You want some coffee?"- you ask.

"Oh sure. With milk and three sugars."- Felix says and he swears you look disgusted for a moment before you turn around and leave for the coffee machine.

"Thanks!"- Felix calls behind you and you dismiss him with a wave of your hand.

Felix doesn't know what to do with himself. He doesn't know if you wanna work at your desk, his desk, or maybe one of the empty offices. He feels so awkward, scared that he'll embarass himself and look stupid in front of you, and he doesn't want to blow what might be his only chance.

He's startled from his thoughts by you putting the coffee cup on the table.

"Here, your coffee."- you say it pointedly.

"T-thank you."- Felix feels his face heating up as you stand so close to him.

"Maybe we should take one of the empty offices for more privacy."- you say, grabbing the folder and shrugging.

More privacy. Why would you say it like that? Felix starts freaking out as he reads between the lines.

"Y-yeah, sure."- he answers and both of you grab whatever you need from your desks before you walk into one of the empty offices.

As soon as you sit down, you take a sip of your coffee, your eyes closing like always and Felix steals a glance at you. He can't believe you're actually sitting so close to him.

After that first sip, you waste no time, going over the documents and requests of the client with Felix. The boss is proven to be right as the both of you start discussing the best way to approach this project, you agree on everything almost instantly.

For a few moments, Felix forgets how embarassed he is to be next to you as you keep your themes of conversation professional.

This is the first time you've actually taken a good look at Felix. Ofcourse, you'd say a polite 'hello' whenever you ran into him. You'd seen him at his table or walking around, talking to everyone, always wearing pastels, especially baby blue. When you're concentrated on your screen and he walks by, you see a bundle of blue just pass by your peripheral, leaving behind the sweet scent of his cologne.

You've also noticed that there's half eaten chocolate or candy on his desk always. You wonder if he has cavities with the amount of sugar he's eating, internally cringing at the thought of the artificial sugary taste.

You never noticed that he wears makeup, just a bit of eyeshadow, barely noticeable eyeliner and gems under his eyes. You never noticed that his face is full of freckles, reaching even up to his ears. You never noticed how plump his lips are, upper lip in the shape of a heart.

A thought runs through your mind; wow, he's really pretty.

Your heart skips a beat and you shake your head. No, you don't even want to entertain such thoughts. You don't want to start anything with anyone, you enjoy being alone and free, only having to care for your cat. Humans are complicated. You don't do complicated, unless it's a code. And even the most difficult algorithms are easier to you than people.

Business. That's what you're going to concentrate on. The task before you. You dismiss thoughts about Felix, almost ignoring his presence as you start working on a data flow chart.

Felix on the other hand, sweats profusely across from you. He's also working on his laptop but it feels awkward. He's used to yapping away with someone even while he works but you're so zeroed in on your screen that it seems like you don't even care that he's there.

How is it so easy to strike up conversation with anyone except you? Felix swears his brain turns to mush whenever he tries to formulate sentences in front of you.

"Felix? Are you listening?"- you wave your hand in front of his face, and oh my god you said his name. Felix perks up immediately, his neck and face burning up like a fucking forest fire as you stare at him.

"Um, you were saying?"- Felix fake coughs, trying to cover up that he was zoning out.

"I said I'm done with the flow chart. If you wanna look at it?"- you say, turning your laptop towards Felix.

"Oh right, sure."- Felix nods and you get up and sit next to him, sliding your laptop closer. Fuck fuck fuck. He can't do this, Felix has no idea how he'll take being so close to you, yet so far away.

"So, this is what I was thinking..."- you start explaining, and Felix listens, he really does but you smell so nice, your hair looks so soft and your knee bumps into his a few times. His insides turn into jelly but he makes himself listen. He can't afford to make a fool out of himself in front of you. He wants to impress you.

He concentrates and adds his input, and you stare at him as he talks, your eyes roaming all over his face. Just why are you looking at him like that?, Felix thinks as his heart beats out of his chest.

Your eyes fall to his lips as he keeps talking, and Felix sees your tongue dart out shortly and lick your bottom lip. Fuck.

"Anyways, yeah, so what do you think about that?"- Felix finishes.

"Sounds good. We're on the same wavelength. We should have a meeting with the rest of the team tomorrow. Jisung and Minho probably already went home. And I don't think Changbin is here today at all."- you conclude.

"Yeah, I agree."- stupid. 'Ask him out! Do it! Just say it!', Felix's brain screams at him.

"Looking forward to working with you, Felix."- you smile, a genuine smile, your hand reaching towards his.

"Yeah, me too!"- Felix beams at you, shaking your hand.

Something flutters in your stomach. Those damned butterflies! You get up as fast as you can, gathering your things because the office suddenly seems smaller than it did before.

"See you tomorrow."- you say, and turn around, speeding out the door before Felix can even react.

Felix sits there for another five to ten minutes, the smell of your cologne lingering around him, your voice still echoing in his ear, the feeling of your hand holding his still on his skin.

How can he recover from this?

-

The next day, you arrange a meeting with your coworkers. Felix wants to strike up a conversation that doesn't involve work with you. But it seems that being closer to you feels like you're even further away than you usually are, a few desks away from him and not acknowleding his existence.

You're concentrated on your coding, mostly talking to Minho and Changbin since they're programmers too. The three of you keep exchanging ideas and talking about things Felix doesn't understand as deeply as you do.

At the end of the day, you politely greet everyone and slip away like sand slipping away through his fingers.

And that happens every single day of you working together on the project.

Ten days later, Felix is becoming more and more frustrated, and today's been a particularly bad day all together and Felix makes mistakes the whole time.

"Are you even paying attention?! We're gonna be behind because of you."- Jisung rolls his eyes in annoyance.

"Cut him some slack, Jisung."- you chime in before Felix can even open his mouth and hey, what the hell. You stood up for him! Felix feels like he can conquer the world, climb the highest mountain, dive the deepest sea, fly up into the sky and probably land on the Moon.

"Sorry."- Jisung mutters. "I'm just on edge."

"We all are."- Changbin adds and it's true. The client keeps changing and adding requests, and he's too particular about everything, making all of your team want to pull their hair out.

"Next week, I'll be working from home only. So, we can just use Zoom for meetings, okay?"- you announce at the end of the shift.

Felix is disappointed. Now, he's not even gonna see you for a whole damn week. He hasn't been without you for more than 2 days in the last few months and he doesn't know how he'll survive working without getting a dose of you.

-

Felix chooses to work from home that week too. His roommate and friend, Chan, is out of town so he can sit in his living room freely and type away.

He's on his couch, munching on some gummy candy as he works when suddenly he gets a notification to join a zoom meeting. He looks at it and freezes. Your name is on the screen.

He quickly fixes his hair, already embarassed that he's wearing some dumb gaming merch shirt, it's too late to change it right? Is the apartment even clean?, he thinks and looks around. The frame of what you'll see seems fine so he connects to the meeting.

Felix fully expects to see his other three teammates but it's just you. You on his screen. In a plain white shirt, your hair still wet presumably from a shower, posters on the wall behind you, lofi music playing somewhere in the background.

Fuck, you look delicious, Felix almost starts screaming at the screen. How can you be that gorgeous without even giving it any effort?

"Hey, sorry to pull you into a meeting without warning but I just wanted to go through some of the things we talked about on Friday with you."- you say.

"Yeah ofcourse! Don't apologize. I was working anyways."- Felix says, moving his hand and accidentally rustling the bag of gummies next to him.

"Are you munching on candy again?"- you ask, with a knowing smirk and Felix swallows. This is the first time you asked him anything that has nothing to do with work.

"Well yeah. Sugar fuels me."- Felix shrugs, flashing you a bright smile.

"You'll get cavities."- you shake your head.

"That's a problem for tomorrow."- Felix says and you chuckle. His heart hammers in his chest, he can't believe he made you laugh, even if it was just a small chuckle.

"Well then, let's talk about today's problem."- and there it is, back to work again.

Felix deflates a little but there is still a spark within him, a spark of hope for anything blossoming between you, even if it was just a friendship, he would be happy to be by your side.

You work through your ideas together, and Felix sees you're ready to end the meeting so he panics and attempts to make you stay on the call a little more.

"Why did you take a week to work remotely?"- he blurts out. Fucking cringe. Why did he ask something like that?! You probably have your own private reasons and now he's prying into your life like some kind of desperate fool.

You look taken aback by the question and Felix wishes his couch would open up and swallow him, making him disappear forever.

"Oh, well, my cat is sick. So, I have to take him to the vet and be with him while he gets better."- you answer, and Felix absolutely melts.

"You have a cat?"- he smiles at you and you nod, returning a smile.

"Dimples."- you say.

"What?"

"My cat's name. It's Dimples."- you chuckle, your cheeks becoming a little rosy. Felix screams internally. You're not only handsome and intelligent. You're fucking adorable.

"Don't ask."- you wave your hand as Felix opens his mouth.

"Can I see him?"- Felix beams at you.

"Oh, sure. Let me get him."- you say and get up.

Felix catches a glimpse of your sweatpants, his insides churning at the sight. He has some time to look around the room you are in, and he leans in closer to get all the details imprinted in his mind. The posters hung on your wall, a cool lamp in the corner, a bookshelf full of figurines and well books, a guitar case on the floor.

Your bed, slightly unmade, with black covers and a black fluffy blanket.

"Here he is. Mister Dimples."- you appear suddenly, startling Felix as he backs away from his laptop a little.

"Oh my god! He's adorable!"- Felix gasps.

"Isn't he just the prettiest?"- you say, eyes shining as you look at your cat and nuzzle into him. Dimples meows, trying to get out of your grasp, obviously not having it.

Felix doesn't know if he wants to squish you in that moment or if he wants to be squished by you.

"Alright, he's not in the mood right now."- you chuckle, letting Dimples hop out of your arms. "But, I swear he's a friendly cat usually."

"He's not like too sick? I mean, he'll be okay?"

"Oh, yeah he'll be fine."- you smile, some kind of intimate atmosphere settling between you and your coworker. Your stomach does that butterflies thing again and you panic.

"Well, anyways, revise what I sent you in that document and then we can continue tomorrow."- your demeanor changes and Felix straightens his back and nods.

"Sure!"

"Bye, Felix."- you say and end the meeting abruptly.

Felix sits still for a few moments. Did he do something wrong? Did he cross the line somehow? Did he make you uncomfortable?

He sighs as he opens up the document and pops another gummy in his mouth.

So what if he gets cavities.

On the other side of the screen, you're taking a few moments too. Seeing Felix without makeup, dressed casually, with his hair unkempt made you feel some type of way. He looked even prettier than he does at work, if that was even possible.

It's hard enough to resist talking to him every day at work, but now that you've seen him in a relaxed state like that, your mind races.

Images run through your mind and you wonder how his soft lips would feel against yours. How pretty his legs would look all wrapped around your waist. How sweet his moans of pleasure would sound if you had your way with him.

Oh, what the hell is wrong with you?

-

Felix can't sleep that evening. Now he knows what your room and your bed look like. Now he can really imagine one of his many scenarios. One that involves the two of you in your bed.

In his half-asleep state, Felix feels hot as he imagines you on top of him, his hand sliding down to the tent in his boxers. He imagines you taking complete control over him, your kisses demanding, hands bruising and hips unforgiving.

He wants to surrender himself completely, let you touch him however you want, fuck him however you want.

His hand wraps around his leaking cock and he wishes it was your hand squeezing him, demanding sweet release from him.

He lets himself moan loudly, hand speeding up, lost in the thoughts of you, your voice, your smell, your touch. Felix cums hard and as soon as he comes down from his high, shame rushes into his brain. He can't believe he just did that.

-

Monday. That dreadful day. Felix is afraid of facing you, like you'd know what he did. He didn't touch himself to the thought of you only once, not even twice, he did so three times. The things he imagined were getting more visceral every time and when he walks into the building and sees you getting coffee, he is mortified.

He hesitates, almost tripping over his feet as he slowly makes his way to you. You sense a presence and turn around only to be greeted by Felix's shiny eyes and freckled cheeks. Your face heats up and you turn back to the coffee machine again.

"Morning."- you mumble, avoiding to look at him. Fuck, why does he look especially pretty today? His hair is in a half updo, there's little shiny stars around his eyes and lipgloss on his lips. It's all sparkly and sugary but his eyes shine the most as he looks at you. You can't take it.

"Good morning!"- Felix says nervously, why did you turn away like that? Can you actually read minds?, Felix is panicking again. Can you see what he's been thinking about all week? He catches a glimpse of himself in the glass nearby, he put in extra effort today and even wore his favorite baby blue shirt. He hopes you'll notice.

"You're getting coffee too?"- you say, grabbing your cup, still avoiding to look at him, cursing those damn insects buzzing around in your stomach.

"Oh, yeah."- Felix accidentally zoned out again. He gulps when he notices that you're wearing those damn ripped jeans, they're so tight. He can't help his curious eyes as they flit towards the slight bulge in the middle, and he feels something coil in his stomach, his throat dry.

"I'll be in the office."- you break his stare and he gasps quietly, looking up at you. Thankfully, you were staring at your phone with your brows furrowed.

"Okay."- Felix nods as you spin on your heel and hurry across the room.

When he walks into the office, he notices it's just the two of you.

"Where is our team?"- Felix asks, sitting down and opening up his laptop.

"Changbin will be here shortly, around 10 I think. Jisung has a meeting. Minho has to work on another project today."- you say, checking the schedule as Felix admires your organization.

"So it's just the two of us."- you add quietly, and Felix catches a glimpse of a shy smile as you stare at your screen. His heart jumps, almost too hard, like it's leaping out towards you.

"Good. Okay. That's good."- Felix's leg bounces up from nervousness. You're already typing away and his eyes fall down to look at your hands.

That's when he notices it, a hair tye on your wrist. Now, that would be normal if it was a black one like you always wore, but this one is baby blue.

Is Felix imagining things or did you wear it on purpose because you know that that's his favorite color? His heart can't take the thought of that.

"Good morning, suckers!"- Jisung breaks the comfortable atmosphere, as you and Felix work while listening to some lofi hiphop mix.

"Morning, Ji."- Felix greets his coworker.

"Morning."- you say, not looking up from your laptop.

"It's not even 10 and I'm already exhausted."- Jisung rolls his eyes.

"Bad meeting?"- Felix asks, sipping on his sweet coffee.

"Bad client. Was on my ass the whole time. They bombarded me with messages last night! And then they found more shit to complain about this morning. Like I didn't have a whole sleepless week because of their project."- Jisung huffs, his nose scrunched up in disgust.

"Ah, I'm sorry Ji."- Felix says, and Jisung waves his hand.

"Minho's taking me on a little road trip this weekend so we good."- he smirks. "I just had to vent a little."

"Ooh, a road trip? That's so romantic."- Felix sighs, leaning his chin on his hand. You look up at him from your screen, his eyes shiny as he stares into the distance.

"When are you gonna get some?"- Jisung smirks.

Felix's face becomes as red as a tomato in record time when he hears you cough on the left of him.

"Anyways, I revised the last entry our client made. Should be able to upload the numbers into the database now."- you break the conversation and Felix can see your cheeks becoming rosy.

"Great work!"- Felix says, he doesn't want you to feel uncomfortable and he definitely doesn't want Jisung talking about his non-existent sex life in front of you of all people.

"Thank you, Felix."- you smile, and Jisung looks up at the both of you.

Felix looks around, suddenly feeling like he's missing something.

"Oh! I forgot to bring my candy."- Felix whines and your eyes fall on his pouty, glossy lips. Images of you kissing that pout away run through your mind and your heart starts racing faster.

"Um... these are your favorite, right?"- you reach into your backpack and pull out a brand new bag of Felix's favorite candy. You have no idea what prompted you to do this but that damn bag of candy has been in your backpack for two whole weeks.

"Oh!"- Felix gasps, butterflies errupting in his stomach all the way to his chest where they flutter around his heart. "Yes, they are! You got them for me?"

"Well, yeah. I don't exactly have a sweet tooth."- you say, 'except for you', you think but bite your lip.

"That's... that's really nice of you. Thanks, y/n."- Felix is at a loss of words. "By the way, how's Dimples? Is he better?"

"Dimples?"- Jisung raises his eyebrow.

"My cat. Don't ask."- you shake your head and Felix giggles, and then cringes internally at himself.

"He was sick. And to answer your question, yes, he's good now. Back to normal. Zoomies and all."

"That's great news."- Felix smiles, feeling triumphant that he knows something more about you than your coworkers do.

Jisung observes the whole interaction, a knowing smirk on his face.

-

The project is almost done. Just a few more finishing touches. Felix fears that you'll go back to basically being strangers, passing by each other's desk when you go to get coffee.

The last week he's barely seen you, since you had no real need to come to the office. He's bummed and Jisung notices.

"Why so blue?"- he comes up to Felix. "Pun fully intended."- he motions towards Felix's blue sweater.

"I'm just tired."- the usual sparkle in his eyes is dim.

"It's y/n, isn't it? You've been ogling that man ever since the first day he walked into this building."- Jisung smirks. Damn him.

"What? I don't ogle. I... observe... and what's it to you anyways?"- Felix gets defensive, feeling embarassed that someone noticed his crush.

"Woah damn, I'm just worried about you. You don't seem like yourself these last few days."- Jisung points out.

"Sorry. I'm just worried... that we'll go back to being nothing. Not that we're anything special right now. But at least we talk. And I don't know, I- I like him a lot."

"Just like?"- Jisung smirks.

"Don't start, Ji."

"In my humble opinion, both of you are fucking idiots. Why don't you just talk to each other like normal grown-ups? If I never confessed to Minho, we wouldn't be enjoying our wonderful time together right now."

"Thanks, but no thanks."- Felix shakes his head making Jisung laugh. "I don't think he even looks at me that way."

"Oh so you're not just a coward, you're also blind."- Jisung snorts.

"Did you come here to insult me or comfort me?"- Felix smacks Jisung's arm.

"Ow! Both?"- Jisung rubs his arm. "You know what then? There's gonna be a party this weekend, more of a get-together actually. We will celebrate our project well done. That could be your chance to talk to y/n."- Jisung smirks.

"Ugh, I don't want to get intoxicated while trying to talk to him."- Felix cringes.

"Just two little drinks. To boost up your courage. What could go wrong?"

-

Everything. Everything can go wrong.

The evening starts out nicely, Felix put in even more effort to look pretty for you (even though you think he is beautiful always), his make up is sweet and sparkly, lips rosy and glossy. His outfit is cute too, hair in a half updo with a baby blue bow to top it all off.

You almost trip over nothing when you see him all dolled up like that, a bright smile on his face as he approaches you.

The two of you join Changbin, Minho and Jisung at a table. Everyone orders alcohol and everyone clinks their glasses together in the name of success and great teamwork.

There are more drinks sent to your table over and over again, you have no problems with that but Felix does. You're actually talking to him, probably buzzed from the alcohol and Felix tries to keep up with you, but he can't take all the alcohol well.

Pretty soon, the music seems distorted, the room is spinning and Felix's stomach churns.

You're talking about videogames you played in your childhood and as much as Felix enjoys this topic of conversation, he needs to tell you how he feels now.

"Y/n, there's something I have to- to tell you."- he hiccups, and you stop talking as you look at him. Felix swings a little, getting into your personal space and you can hear your heart hammering in your ears.

"Yeah?"- you say and he smiles a big dumb smile, his eyes closing as he starts chuckling.

Felix calms down after a few moments and opens his eyes.

"I'm-" - he starts and then his stomach betrays him as it rises up in his throat. And then everything is black.

-

Black covers. Posters on the wall. Figurines on the bookshelf. A cool lamp in the corner.

Felix squints as he looks around. No fucking way!

"Hey, you awake?"- your voice calls to him and he must be dreaming.

"What the hell?"- he whimpers as his head starts pounding.

You come closer to the bed and Felix looks up at you, still confused.

"You got shitfaced last night. Changbin left early. And then Jisung and Minho said they need to get something done but they never came back. I didn't really want to leave you alone so I brought you here. I hope that's okay."- you explain.

"Oh..."- Felix tries to remember what he did or said but his mind is blank. Then he notices he's wearing your shirt and he gasps.

"Oh my god... Did we...?"- he asks, heart pounding in his chest and your eyes widden, cheeks red in an instant.

"What?! No, no way. I mean not that I wouldn't want to... Just... Not like that... What am I even saying?"- you panic, and Felix can't believe what you just said.

"I'll go make you coffee."- you clear your throat. "Wait, I don't have any milk. Would you like a smoothie?"

"S-sure. Um... Did you change my clothes?"- Felix grips the blanket covering him.

"You puked all over them so..."

Oh that is so embarassing!, Felix curses himself as you disappear into the kitchen. How could he be so stupid and get so drunk that he didn't even remember anything?!

There is a lot he needs to process in this moment and he feels like his brain is not braining at all. He embarassed himself in front of you, he incovenienced you by making you take care of his stupid drunk ass, you literally saw him almost naked and not in the scenario he was imagining and now he's in your room. In your bed.

Everything around him smells like you and he's overwhelmed. Something stirs in his gut. God, please, not now!

"Hey, breakfast is done."- you appear in the doorway.

"Oh, I'll be right there. I just need to use the bathroom first."- you nod and show him where it is.

Your shirt is so big on him and he pulls it down even more, feeling exposed in his boxers. He makes his way to your bathroom and when he's done, he finds you in the kitchen. Your aparment is not too big but it's stylish and full of knick knacks that are just so you.

The sight of Felix in just your shirt makes your brain go haywire. His thighs look so plush and delicious, you just want to squeeze them.

"Um, do you have any pants I can wear?"- he asks as if he knew what you were thinking.

"Oh, right, sorry. I'll go find something."- you say, pushing the smoothie glass towards Felix.

"Thanks."- Felix whispers, he feels so awkward and his brain still can't wrap around the fact that he slept in your bed and that you made breakfast for him.

As he waits for you, he hears rustling to his right and he turns and sees your cat sniffing the air and checking him out.

"Oh, Dimples hello!"- Felix greets the cat, squatting down and beckoning him to come closer. Dimples shuffles towards him and after sniffing his hand, he immediately nuzzles into him.

"He likes you."- you say as you walk back in.

"I like him too."- Felix smiles up at you and you feel your face heat up.

"Here."- you give him some sweats to wear and he puts them on, having to tie them up tightly around his waist.

"So, how shitfaced did I get last night? I mean I don't remember anything, so I wanna know... What'd I say or do?"- Felix asks, already nervous. But it can't be that bad since you took him home and took care of him.

"Um... well..."- your face is beet red as you avoid Felix's eyes. Fuck, what did he do?

"You tried to... to kiss me."- you mumble and Felix freezes.

"Oh my god! Oh my god!"- he panics, his face falling into his hands. Felix wishes he could erase his entire existence in that moment. "I am so sorry! I don't know why I did that!"

"Really? Cause you also kinda told me that you're in love with me."- you deadpan.

Felix can't believe he fucked up this bad.

He feels like he could cry right now. And he probably will, his eyes are already watering and he buries his face as deep as he can into his palms.

"Felix? Are you crying?"- you ask cautiously, trying to look at him.

"No."- he says, his voice muffled. "Yes."- he adds, and looks up at you, a single tear streaming down his freckled cheek.

"Why are you crying?"

"Because I fucked everything up and I feel so embarassed. I literally dumped all my emotions on you and tried to kiss you. I would totally understand if you don't feel comfortable with me anymore."- Felix sniffles.

You stare at him for a few moments before you start chuckling. His eyes widden as he looks at you.

"You didn't fuck anything up. If I wasn't comfortable, I wouldn't bring you here, would I?"

"No?"- Felix shakes his head.

"Look, I turned you down becase you were drunk and I didn't want us to do something only to have you regret it in the morning. If I was ever gonna make a move on you, I'd do it while we're both sober, preferably."- you chuckle, your cheeks rosy again.

"You... what?"

"Even though I tried do deny it, I couldn't. I... like you too Felix."- you say. Felix thinks his hearing has gone bad or he's hallucinating.

"But, I would like for us to be friends first. I- I need time to warm up to people. If that's okay with you."

This is it. Almost seven months of fucking pining for you and daydreaming 24/7, you are the one to confess to Felix.

He can't help the huge smile spreading on his face.

"I'm totally okay with that! More than okay!"

-

As Felix comes to find out, you weren't joking when you said you need time to warm up to people.

It's been almost 6 months since he drunkenly confessed to you, and your relationship hasn't upgraded much since then. At times he feels like your cat likes him more than you do.

Yes, you hang out outside of work now but it is not that different to Felix than hanging out with his other friends.

He feels hopeless again, you never even talk about that day like it didn't even happen. Did you forget about what he said? Did you not like him as he likes you anymore? How does that just come up in a conversation?

Felix doesn't know how to ask you, he sits contemplating at his desk. He catches a glimpse of you, getting up and greeting Minho. He doesn't do it on purpose but he overhears a part of your conversation.

"...you know for our dinner party on Friday. I have a date for you if you don't wanna come alone."- Minho said.

"Oh, I'm kinda seeing someone so that wont be a problem."- you say. What?

"Ooh, I didn't know that! Who's the lucky guy?"- Minho smirks.

"You'll see on Friday."

What the hell? Felix's heart drops to his stomach. That's why you haven't made a move on him. You're seeing someone. He knows it's probably dramatic but at that moment he feels like his whole world is crashing down around him.

His vision blurs and he stands up abruptly, turning around and making his way to the bathroom quickly.

Much to his dismay, the bathroom is occupied and he's not about to cry in front of his coworkers. He runs into the first empty office and closes the door. Tears are already running down his cheeks, and he tries to calm himself down. He can't be caught crying like this at work.

To his horror, the handle turns and the door creaks open.

He slowly turns around, eyes already red from crying and ofcourse it has to be you.

"Felix?! Are you okay?"- your concerned face turns into a face full of confusion as you come closer to him.

"No, I'm not."- he shakes his head.

"What's wrong?"- you reach out to touch his shoulder but he avoids it.

"D-don't. You're seeing someone, I bet they wouldn't like seeing you touching someone else."

"What? What are you talking about?"- your brows furrow.

"I overheard your conversation with Minho. I didn't mean to eavesdrop but it happened."

"Oh that."- you sigh. "I was- I was talking about you."

"Me? Aren't we hanging out as friends?"- Felix asks, sniffling and wiping his tears off.

"Yeah but I thought we were clear with our feelings."- you say and Felix chuckles.

"Oh my god, I am so stupid."- he rolls his eyes in disbelief.

"Were you crying because you thought I was going out with someone else?"

"Maybe."- Felix says, embarassment settling in. "I didn't know if you liked me anymore."

"I guess I have to do something to convince you I do then."- you say, gently laying your hand on his cheek. You slowly lean in closer and Felix's eyes widden.

Is this really happening?

Felix's lips part and yours press your lips into his, they mold together like they were made for each other.

Both of you stay still for a moment, Felix's eyelashes and cheeks are still wet and you bring your other hand to his cheek and gently swipe your thumb over his skin. You start moving your lips against his, and oh my god, you are kissing him.

Felix melts into you, kissing you back with everything he has, hands grabbing at your arms to help him ground himself because at this point he feels like if he doesn't hold on he will float away.

You wanted to give him an innocent kiss just to show him that you do actually see him as more than a friend but the pent up emotions both of you had bubbling inside you started spilling out.

Your mind is racing, Felix's lips are so soft and plump, they taste like the strawberry lipgloss he wears, the candy he loves the most and the sugary coffee he drinks every morning. Under any other circumstances, this much sugar would make you puke but with Felix you couldn't get enough.

Your hand holds the back of his neck, other hand sliding down to his waist. Felix whines, lips parting more and you lick his bottom lip to ask for permission.

He lets you in and your tongues dance together as you keep tasting him, both of you are grabbing at each other desperately, Felix's hands gripping your shirt as you pull him in closer.

"Felix..."- you whisper on his lips before you lean in to kiss his jaw, his breathing gets shaky, fingers digging into the material of your shirt.

You're in a trance, he's intoxicating and you wonder why you haven't kissed him before. Your lips press below his ear and Felix whimpers quietly, head falling back to give you access.

You kiss the soft skin on his neck, his sweet perfume making your pants tighten.

"Y/n..."- Felix moans when you lick at his neck and bite down, sucking on his skin. Your hands grip his hips and you push your middle into his.

"Ahh!"- he moans, grabbing at your arms again.

You lean back and look at him, both of your eyes glazed over with lust.

Felix looks down at the obvious tent in your pants and gulps. You smirk and run your hands to the back of his thighs. He gasps as you lift him up on the table, his legs falling open for you to slot your hips between his.

"I want to make you feel good."- you whisper, leaning your forehead against his.

"Here?"- he swallows, glancing at the door.

"Right here."- you smirk, biting on your lip.

"Okay."- Felix is desperate, his hips are already lifting up towards you, his cock straining in his tight jeans.

You put your hands on his thighs, gently running them up and squeezing occasionally and Felix squirms. You unbutton and unzip his jeans, sliding them down slowly as he lifts his ass up.

His heart is beating so fast and he can't believe this is happening. He's been dreaming about you for so long, dreaming of giving himself to you, belonging to you in every sense of that word. He's more than ready to let you do whatever you want with him.

You hook your fingers in his boxers and slowly slide them down too. His cock springs up from the confines and you wrap your fingers around him, tip already leaking with precum.

Felix keens at the sight of your big hand wrapped around his cock and he ruts up into it.

"Someone's eager."- you smirk, thumbing his slit.

"Ahh- I'm sorry!"- he whimpers.

"Don't be, I think that's sweet."- you say, squeezing him a little.

"Mm..."- Felix grips at the end of the table.

You give his cock a few tugs, your other hand on his inner thigh, squeezing the flesh.

"Please, please, oh my god!"- Felix whines desperately pushing up into your hand. He's touch starved and thirsty for you, he can't take any teasing. You understand and drop down to your knees and he gasps as he looks at you.

"W-what are you doing?"- he whimpers as you gently fondle his balls, your other hand moving on his tip.

"I'm taking care of you. Just relax."- you whisper, leaning in closer and pressing your lips on the soft skin of his inner thigh.

Felix mewls, completely surrendering to your touch, his mind gone from the stimulation you're giving him. You cover his thighs with pretty love bites, hands working on his cock and balls. You think he looks so beautiful in this moment, head thrown back, tongue lolling out of his plump lips, fingers gripping at the table, his legs spread wide and his cock leaking just for you.

You need to taste him so you lean in and wrap your lips around his tip.

"Ah, fuck!"- Felix whimpers loudly, clamping his hand over his lips and glancing at the door.

You smirk around his cock and take more of him in your mouth. Felix's moans are muffled by his hand and you're not having it. You reach up and gently grab his arm tugging it down.

"I want to hear you."- you say, releasing him with a pop.

"B-but people-"

"I don't care. I want to hear how good I'm making you feel."- you look at him, eyes dark with lust and Felix whimpers, his cock twitching.

"Okay."- he nods and you take him in your mouth again, your hands roaming whatever part of his body you can reach. He gives in completely, leaning his body into you, lifting his legs up and pressing his heels into the table so you have full access to him.

You bob your head on him faster, no gag reflex as you practically swallow his smaller cock, the salty taste of his precum sweet on your tongue.

"Ah, y/n, I'm close!"- Felix whines, trying to push you away but you grab his hands, intertwining your fingers with his as you speed up even more.

His legs start shaking, heart beating hard against his chest, his thoughts are swimming with only you as he looks down at you. You may be kneeling in front of him, but to him you look demanding and authoritative as you play with his body.

It's like your eyes full of lust, lips wrapped around him and hands squeezing the flesh of his thighs are ordering him to cum for you. Whines of pleasure keep spilling from his lips, body shaking as he spasms and cums hard down your throat. You swallow almost all of it, savoring the taste of him.

You lift up immediately and grab his head, crashing your lips into his, tongue pushing into his mouth so you can make him taste himself.

Felix moans into your lips, eyes rolling back as he swallows some of his cum mixed with your saliva.

"Fuck."- you lean back, looking at him darkly.

"Fuck indeed."- Felix nods, still breathless.

"What about you?"- he asks, looking down at the bulge in your pants.

"S'okay. Don't worry about me. Next time."- you say as you caress his cheek gently.

"Are you sure? I want to please you."- he says and you just want to eat him up in that moment.

"You already did."- you smile and lean in, capturing his lips, giving him a kiss more gentle than the ones before.

"You free on Friday?"- you ask and Felix nods fervently.

"Great. I'll pick you up."- you say and give him another peck.

-

Felix must be having some sort of out-of-body experience as he gets ready on Friday. He still can't believe what happened in the office two days ago and he can't stop thinking about it.

Every time he remembers the way you looked at him, the way you handled him and the way you made him cum, he wants to giggle and kick his feet. He feels so giddy as he puts his outfit together, thinking how after dinner you'll take it off of him, his face gets red just from the images running through his mind.

You pick him up at 6:30, he sits in the passenger seat of your car and you lean in immediately and peck his lips.

"You look pretty."- you tell him, your stomach swarming with butterflies but by now you've decided to just go with the feeling.

"T-thank you. You look handsome."- Felix smiles sweetly at you, his cheeks rosy.

God, he'll be the death of you.

You arrive at Minho and Jisung's shared apartment on time and as soon as Jisung sees the two of you enter together, he yells.

"Aha! I fucking knew it! You owe me money, Changbin."- Jisung smirks, wiggling his eyebrows at his coworker.

Changbin groans in annoyance at him but smiles at the two of you.

"You two finally pulled your heads out of your asses, huh?"- Minho asks and Felix smacks his arm.

"Please, shut up!"- Felix whines, both of your faces red.

Your coworkers/friends don't stop teasing you throughout dinner anyways but you don't care anymore. Your attention is on Felix only, and he looks so pretty tonight, so delicate and sweet.

There's a growing need in the pit of your stomach, burning a fire inside your heart. You want him so bad.

"Hey, you wanna leave?"- you lean in to whisper in his ear as Jisung talks about some funny mishap that happened on a date with Minho.

"Oh, you wanna go home already?"- Felix looks at you, disappointment flashing in his eyes.

"No, I wanna take you home. To my house, I mean."- you say, pulling your bottom lip between your teeth.

"Oh... Oh! Okay! I want to!"- Felix says, cursing himself for acting so eager like he's desperate (he is).

"Well, this was fun and all but we gotta go. I have somewhere to be in the morning and Felix is sleepy, right?"- you look at him and Felix plays along, faking a yawn.

"Y'all can just say you wanna go home and fuck."- Jisung smirks.

"I'm never coming to your dinner party ever again."- Felix throws a piece of bread at Jisung, face red in embarassment and Jisung just laughs obnoxiously.

-

As soon as the two of you walk into your apartment, Dimples runs towards you meowing loudly and butting his head into yours and Felix's legs.

"He's hungry. As if I didn't feed the little gremlin before I went out tonight."- you shake your head, a fond smile dancing across your lips.

Felix chuckles and follows you into the kitchen.

"You want something to drink?"- you ask, after feeding your cat.

"No, thanks."- Felix says, fiddling with the rings on his fingers. Why does he feel so awkward suddenly? You must be feeling awkward too, as silence settles between the two of you.

Felix screams at himself on the inside, willing himself to make a move but you beat him to it as you step closer to him, cornering his body into the kitchen bar.

"Oh"- he gasps a little as he looks up at you.

"I know I said this before but you look so pretty tonight. I love the sparkles on your eyes. And the bow in your hair. It's very sweet."- you compliment him like it's nothing and Felix melts, his face turning into a tomato.

"T-thank you. I- I dressed up for you."- he says quietly, voice wavering at the end.

"You did, hm?"- you smirk, bringing your hand to his waist, your fingers brushing the exposed skin where his crop top rode up.

"Yeah."- Felix nods, his eyes fluttering as you caress his face and hold his waist. He leans into your hand and you lean closer to his candy lips.

"Can I kiss you?"- you whisper, breath hitting his skin.

"Please."- he says, relief painted in his deep voice.

You crash your lips into his, wasting no time for an intro as you pour all your passion into it. Felix becomes putty in your hands immediately, opening his mouth so you can explore him with your tongue.

You keep kissing, hands roaming all over each other before you hear Dimples meowing on the right. You part, chuckling and looking at the little cockblocker.

"Let's go to my room."- you say and Felix shivers, nodding as you grab his hand.

Dimples makes himself comfy on the couch and you pull Felix into your room, closing the door behind you.

"Now where were we?"- you smirk, hands tangling into Felix's soft hair.

"You were kissing me."- Felix smirks back at you and you chuckle, leaning in to kiss his neck. Felix's arms wrap around your waist as he leans his head back into your hand. You craddle his head and bite down hard on his skin, sucking a love mark into it.

"Mm..."- Felix moans, pushing his hips into you.

Your kisses keep getting more and more heated, your hands sliding down his back to grip his plush ass. You both stumble towards the bed, your back colliding with the shelf next to it, the figurines displayed on it rattling from the impact.

"Let me..."- Felix whispers before he kneels down, hands on your jeans button. You nod and he opens it up, unzipping them and sliding them down.

Felix's hand ghosts over your bulge tentatively and you push your hips towards his face. He can see that you're big and his cock twitches in his pants as he squeezes you through your boxers.

"Take them off."- you say and Felix complies immediately, fingers hooking in your underwear. As soon as he pulls it down your cock springs out slapping his face.

"Sorry."- you chuckle and Felix groans as he feels precum pooling in the panties he wore for you.

Fuck, you're so big! Felix prays to all the gods that he can fit you in his mouth somehow. His small hand wraps around the base of your cock, the tip of his tongue playing with your slit.

You can't wait anymore, you want to fuck his pretty face and see him gag on your dick.

"Open your mouth."- you order and Felix's eyes glaze over with lust as he opens his mouth for you. Your hand holds his head as you slowly push in, just the tip and a little more.

Felix moans around you immediately, eyes fluttering as he starts bobbing his head up and down, taking more and more of you each time.

"Fuck."- you look at him, his plump lips wrapped around you, his lipgloss staining your cock.

You grip his hair and Felix whines around you pushing himself to take more as his hand works the rest of it, he leans towards you and gags, tears gathering in his eyes. He looks so perfect with his mouth full of your cock.

"Ah, fuck. Just like that baby. You're doing so good."- you praise him, and Felix knows he's done for. His cock throbs for attention and he starts moving faster, sucking you off with everything he has, taking as much as he can, gagging and crying as he gives it his all.

You're close but you don't want to cum yet. Not until you've fucked him, so you pull him off of you and he whines, tongue chasing after your cock.

"Patience, baby."- you smirk at the state of him. He looks completely disheveled, his makeup is ruined and his cheeks are red, eyes dark with lust.

"P-please..."- he coughs a little.

"Tell me what you want."- you lean down to look at him, your hand still tangled in his hair.

"Touch me, please."- he begs.

"Get on the bed."- you say, helping him up and he obeys, laying down on your fluffy blanket. You kneel between his legs, hovering over him and Felix is so excited, reality feels so much better than all his imagination.

Your hands slide on his body and you take his top off, fingers play with his sensitive nipples as you kiss each and every freckle you find on his skin.

You take his pants off and your eyes darken with want when you see what he had on under them the whole time.

"Do you like it?"- Felix asks, batting his long eyelashes at you as your finger plays with the lacy hem on his panties.

"I love it."- you lick your lips, hands grabbing his thighs so you can push his legs up and keep them open for you.

"You're so hard and wet just from sucking my cock, hm?"- you ask, palming him hard without warning.

"Ahh!"- Felix moans, hands gripping at the blanket, hips lifting up into you.

"Mm yes, y/n."- he whines and you smirk, gripping at his panties. Felix looks down just in time to see you ripping them in half.

"Oh!"- he gasps and you grab his cock, giving it a few tugs.

"I want full access."- you smirk, grabbing the ruined panties and throwing them somewhere behind you.

"You have it."- Felix whispers, mind racing from the thought that he's finally at your mercy.

His knees are pressed to his shoulders and you grab a bottle of lube from your night stand drawer.

"Stop me at any time, okay? We don't have to do anything you don't want."- you say, caressing the back of his thigh gently.

"Okay."- he nods and you open the lube bottle, coating your fingers in it generously, letting it warm up a little before you press your fingertips on his fluttering hole.

"A-ah, y/n!"- Felix whines as you circle your fingers on his entrance.

You slowly start pushing in, meeting a little resistence as you bury your fingers into him. His eyes roll back and his cock twitches as you keep pushing in.

"You're sucking my fingers in."- you say and Felix whines in embarassment, it's been too long since anyone touched him or talked to him like that.

He covers his face with his hands as you start moving your fingers and curling them to hit the sweet spot inside him.

"You okay?"- you ask, hand coming up to touch his.

"Yeah, just embarassed."- Felix answers, peeking at you from between his fingers.

"Of what?"- you ask, slowing your fingers down.

"Just embarassed for myself in advance because I haven't done this in a long time and I feel like I have no idea what I'm doing."- Felix says as he moves his hands away.

"You don't have to do anything. Just keep your legs open like that and I'll do all the work. Your task is to enjoy and let me hear how much you're enjoying."- you smirk and press into his sweet spot.

"Oh!"- Felix shivers. "O-okay... Ah, whatever you want, y/n."- his head falls to the side as you keep hitting that spot over and over again, moans spilling from his pretty lips.

His legs start shaking and his cock twitches as you add another finger, stretching his tight little hole as you keep pushing deeper and faster.

"Oh my god!"- Felix whines but before he can cum, you pull your fingers out and he fists the blanket in frustration.

"Why'd you stop?"- he almost cries.

"I can't wait any longer. I need to be inside you."- you say, grabbing a condom you took out with the lube.

Felix looks down at your cock and gulps. He hopes he'll be able to take it, he wants to take it. He wants you so bad that he is willing to work extra hard just fo fit your dick inside him.

You roll the condom on, lubing up again because you really don't want to hurt Felix, you want to see him get lost in pleasure.

You rub your tip on his hole and Felix mewls, holding the backs of his thighs and looking down at your tip teasing him.

"You ready?"- you ask.

"Yes."- Felix nods and you slowly start pushing your cock into him.

His eyes roll back as you stretch him and you look down, biting your lip at the sight of his hole sucking your cock in.

Felix's eyes are closed and he lifts his hand up, blindly reaching out for you. You immediately grab his hand, intertwining your fingers with his, your other hand squeezing the back of his thigh.

He's whimpering so you stop and let him adjust for a moment.

"You okay?"- you ask, leaning down to look at his face, his nose scrunched up and brows furrowed.

"Yeah, it's just... I've never taken a cock this big."- he admits sheepishly and your face heats up, and the blood rushes down again making you impossibly hard.

"Oh yeah? You're doing so well, though."- you smirk, pushing the rest of your cock slowly inside him. Felix whines, gripping your hand and the blanket. Fuck, you're even bigger than in his fantasies and his whole body starts shivering with anticipation.

He looks at you, his eyes shining and you start moving slowly.

"Ah, you're so tight baby."- you say, hips moving in a rhythmic motion and Felix whimpers at the way you talk to him.

He feels so warm and tight, stretching just enough to have you fit snuggly into him, his flesh molding around your cock like it was made for you.

"You're taking me so well."- you praise him again, hips moving faster. His cock twitches at the praise and you smirk leaning down to kiss his neck, collarbone and play with his nipples.

"Ah, y/n!"- he moans as you circle one of his nipples with your tongue. Your hand ghosts over his thigh to his neglected cock and you grab him, moving your hand in time with your thrusts.

"F-fuck, oh god!"- Felix stutters out, his hips jerking up into your hand.

"Feels good, huh?"- you ask, fucking him harder, your cock hitting his g-spot.

"So good! So good!"- Felix cries out, holding your hand in a death grip but you don't care about that. All you care about is making him feel good.

"Please, faster!"- he whines.

"Faster?"- you tease, slowing down a little, your hand squeezing his cock, thumb sliding over his slit.

"P-please... please fuck me faster, y/n!"- he begs with tears in his eyes and you comply, hips snapping into his ass faster and harder.

Felix is a mess under you, he can't think anymore, all he can feel is you everywhere around him, above him and inside him. His free hand grabs at your shoulder, he wants to feel you even closer to him. You lean down and kiss him, swallowing the moans that are spilling from his pretty lips.

You release his cock for a moment, pressing down on his stomach where there's a bulge showing.

"Ah, you're in my guts."- Felix whimpers as he looks down at your hand.

"You like that, don't you?"- you grip his thighs and start fucking him harder again.

"Like being filled up with cock, hm?"- you say, watching Felix fall apart when you talk to him like that.

"Yes, yes I do!"- he moans loudly, your hips snapping into his hard again, hand working on his cock.

"Good boy."- you praise and the sound that comes from his lips sounds almost animalistic as his cock twitches in your hand. He's on the edge of his high, you can see that.

"My good boy."- you repeat and that's all it takes for Felix to explode all over himself while moaning your name. The sight of him shaking while you milk his cock dry brings you to your edge and you finish inside the condom, your hips stuttering and cock buried deep inside Felix's ass.

"Oh god."- he whimpers when you slowly pull out, taking off the condom.

Felix's vision is blurred from tears of pleasure and he brings his hands up to wipe them away.

"You okay?"- you hover over him.

"Yeah. Just need a moment."- he smiles at you and you lean down to kiss his forehead, your lips lingering on his hot skin.

"Where are you go-"

"Just relax, I'm gonna bring you some water and clean you up, okay?"- you brush your knuckles on his cheek gently and he nods.

Felix feels blissed out, eyes searching around your room as his legs finally relax. He hears rustling in the kitchen and you talking to Dimples, and he smiles to himself. He could get used to this.

You come back to your room, this time leaving the door ajar. Felix looks at you as you gently clean him up, his hair and makeup is ruined and you chuckle fondly as you take him in.

"What?"- he asks sheepishly.

"You're adorable."- you say and his face heats up.

"Shut up."- Felix whines in embarassment, covering his face with his hands and you laugh, leaning down and kissing his knuckles gently.

Dimples walks into the room, meowing curiously at the two of you right as you slip under the covers with Felix, wrapping your arms around him and pulling him into your chest. He sighs and relaxes into you, his eyelids fluttering.

Dimples jumps up at the foot of the bed and curls up next to you.

"Is that Dimples?"- Felix asks, voice laced with sleep.

"Mhm."- you mutter, moving his hair out of his face and leaning down to kiss his cheek gently.

"Go to sleep, baby."- is the last thing Felix hears before he drifts off into dreamland.

-

The whole next week both you and Felix are walking around the office on cloud 9, and Jisung's constantly teasing the both of you like the annoying little shit that he is.

But nothing can ruin Felix's mood when he comes to the office in the morning and finds his favorite candy waiting for him at his desk. He smiles and sits down, eyes searching for you.

You're at your desk, deep into your screen and Felix wants to get up and greet you but he gets a notification from you.

He clicks on the message and sees a link and next to it: 'download and play this game. it's rlly short, you'll love it (hopefully)'. His eyebrows shoot up in excitement as he clicks on the link.

It downloads fast since it's short and he clicks on the candy icon, realizing it's his favorite candy, the one you leave for him on his desk every day.

When the game opens up, it says 'made by y/n for felix' and his heart leaps out of his chest. He clicks on the play button and is greeted by a little 2D pixelated world bursting with cute pastel colors, and a little character that looks exactly like him. Down to all the details, the bow he sometimes puts in his hair, the sparkly make up, freckles, his favorite blue shirt. He gasps and starts moving with the character, jumping over obstacles.

Huge pieces of his favorite candy start rolling into the screen and he obtains the ability to double jump so he can avoid getting hit by the candy.

He manages to get to the gate at the end and when he clicks on them, the door opens up and a character that looks exactly like you walks out, a cat following behind you.

A bubble pops up and it says: "you've obtained a boyfriend (and a cat)! how do you wish to proceed?" and there are two options under it that say 'keep playing' and 'quit'. Felix clicks on 'keep playing' and the screen fills up with hearts, candy and Mister Dimples, all of it exploding before his eyes until it shows yours and his character holding hands.

Felix is melting and smiling brightly, his face red and you get up, making your way towards his table. Felix looks up at you and you smile at him, leaning down, one hand on his table and the other around the back of his chair.

"That- that was so cute! I don't know what to say!"- Felix almost cries, in disbelief that you actually made a game to ask him to be your boyfriend.

"Just let me kiss you."- you say, your hand coming up to hold his chin, tilting his head up.

"Yes, please!"- Felix whimpers a little and you smirk leaning down to kiss his sweet lips.

"Meet me in the empty office before lunch."- you whisper in his ear and Felix nods, his stomach exploding with butterflies.

-

Felix didn't know what exactly to expect in the empty office but he didn't expect to be bended over the table, hands tied with his own shirt, your cock buried deep inside him.

"Ah fuck! Y/n, oh my god!"- Felix almost yells as you keep hitting his sweet spot repeatedly.

"Shh baby, you don't want anyone to come in and interrupt us."- you say, your big hand splayed on his lower back as you press him down.

"No, I don't."- he quickly shakes his head.

"You want me to keep fucking you, right?"

"Yes, yes please!"- Felix begs desperately as you halt your movements.

"Then just be quiet for me and take it, okay?"- your grip his tied wrists.

"Mm, yes."- Felix moans quietly and you start fucking him hard again, hands grabbing at his plush ass, hips and his pretty waist.

Felix's hands are balled into fists, and he bites his lip, almost drawing blood as he tries hard to keep his moans in.

"I'm close, I'm close!"- he whines.

"You wanna cum for me?"

"Please, let me cum for you!"- Felix whimpers, tears sliding down his cheeks.

"You can cum."- you say and he explodes immediately, cumming untouched as your name spills from his lips like a prayer.

"What a good boy."- you praise him and feel him melt under you as you thrust harder into him, chasing your release and cumming into the condom.

You pull out and lean down, caressing his back.

"Lix? You okay?"- you ask.

"I've been fucked hard."- he says and you chuckle, fingers coming up to play with his hair. "But yeah, I'm okay. More than okay. If you could just untie me now."- he giggles and you smirk.

"Hmm, should I just keep you tied up like this?"- you tease and he whines.

"Alright, alright. I'm just joking."- you say, untying his hands and helping him lift up.

After you both clean up and get dressed, Felix grabs at your shirt and pulls you in closer.

"Wanna eat lunch together?"- you ask, craddling his head in your hands, fingers tangled in his hair.

"Yeah but before we leave the office, I wanna ask something."- Felix says.

"Yeah sure, anything."- you nod, caressing him as he wraps his arms around your waist.

"Did you wear the baby blue hair tye on purpose?"- you didn't expect that question and you didn't expect him to notice that.

"Oh... that... Well, yeah. You always wear baby blue and I liked looking at it while I was working from home or away from you. It was kinda comforting."- you confess and Felix's face morphs into a beautiful smile, his eyes sparkling more than ever.

"I love you."- he blurts out and then gasps as your eyes widden.

Your heart actually hurts from the love bursting inside you in that moment, and you grip Felix tightly.

"I love you."- you say, leaning your forehead on his and Felix visibly melts in your arms. You love him! He can die happy now!

You lean in, kissing the candy lips you became addicted to.

Who cares if you get cavities?

✨Taglist: @moonchild9350 @janepg

(y'all I actually wanna make the game mc makes for felix ahsjslsl)

[violestars]

𝙄 𝙡𝙞𝙠𝙚 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙬𝙖𝙮 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙠𝙞𝙨𝙨 𝙢𝙚

𝙥𝙖𝙞𝙧𝙞𝙣𝙜𝙨: Sunday x male reader

𝙨𝙪𝙢𝙢𝙖𝙧𝙮: childhood friends to lovers AU, so the boy that broke your heart proposed to you— wait what?!

𝙣𝙤𝙩𝙚: part 1 definitely not a wip lol, i got too attached to Sunday to let him go. !!only male readers!!

𝙬𝙖𝙧𝙣𝙞𝙣𝙜𝙨: angst, hurt comfort, mention of homophobia, controlling family, arranged marriage; kinda suggestive, vulgar language.

𝙘𝙝𝙖𝙥𝙩𝙚𝙧𝙨: part 1, part 2.

“Um— Sunday?” 

The owner of that name, who was clinging stubbornly onto your waist, only replied with a soft nuzzle on your stomach before going silent again. 

How the heck did you even get into this position?

A week without talking to Sunday, not even a small glance from him and you felt too awkward to admire those crystal-like eyes from afar.. listen to those soft lips.. ones that rejected your heartfelt confession— 

“Oh shut it!” You mentally screamed. Past you would not believe this. Sunday? As in the guy that could never be separated from you? The same boy that gained you guys the silly ‘’soulmates’ title? Oh please. 

You were a skeptical person, or a fancier way to call it— anxious. Everything is like a stacked cake to you, so polysemous. Each prettily decorated layer tastes like a plain lie, dig enough and you shall find the sweet truth at the very bottom, if you haven't gone crazy from a sugar high that is! But even if you were a mind reader, Sunday's feelings were always a mystery. Must he be so hidden from you? You have been shaking in your boots at the thought of losing these years of beautiful friendship if he hadn't noticed already. 

“It has always been just him and me together.. Why can't you just share your true thoughts?” You signed, directing your frustrations to the little bear that he got you after a small arcane 'date'— well what your delusional self would call it. You smiled fondly at the memories, him being so deadpanned on how childish the place is, only to gamble his whole life away for a plushie you couldn't stop staring at. Honestly, the strangely designed toy was only cute because it looks like him, just with white wings as ears. 

That is also why it was getting punched to oblivion. 

Ding! 

The abuse stopped as you quickly snatched your phone from the bedside table. Thankfully Robin was updating you on Sunday's condition. All she shared throughout the week with her brother's future boyfriend, the dumb nickname reserved for you specially, was his health and little behaviors. Nothing too useful, not too specific for speculation. “I swear Y/N! If I could I would— the guy was made out of stone or something!” You remembered the poor twin sobbed out, only to be glaring at you for replying with “No wonder he looks like an ethereal sculpture..” 

But this time, your phone wasn't buzzing with several messages of either gossip or complaints, there were only one. 

“Brother mumbled your name and ran straight out after I came home! Please don't fight! His face was as crinkly as an old man's!” 

If the circumstances were different, you would have let out a soft chuckle yet you were at a loss for words. Last time he did that, you had to lie to your sleeping parents about such noisy commotion downstairs. 

“Did I lock my windo—” 

“You didn't.” 

Sunday replied. 

And here you were, laying underneath him, being pinned to your own soft bed. You have dreamt of being treated like this before, and if it wasn't for the fact that the guy laying on your stomach has been on incognito mode for days, you would've started blushing. How did he even get onto your window? Last time you prepared a ladder that you painfully struggled with setting up. Did he drag one here himself? 

“Earth to Sunday?” You asked, hesitatingly patting his fluffy baby blue hair. Your touches carried themselves with confidence after its owner let out a sigh of content, to which you could only muster a small 'cute' under your breath. 

“Fuck them..Those selfish deadbeats..” Sunday grumbled, his voice sending vibration to your tender stomach, making you shivered. You were slightly startled by his wordings, Sunday rarely curses, even around you. Did he have a fight with his family again? 

“Whoa..I just heard some strong words from a guy that never works out— Ow!” You grunted, your sides stinging like an army of fire ants has just devoured your flesh. Who said a crush's privilege was freely inflicting pain onto your delicate body?

You were about to start a fight, there were so many bones to pick with this guy, let's not forget how he ignored your presence first. 

As your hands were about to push Sunday off, he lifted his head up. Crystalized eyes challenging the sparkles of precious diamonds, glistening while they silently begged you to comfort their owner. The first time he looked at you in days and it was when he looked like a kicked puppy. You only sigh, gently pulling him up to your level as he buried his face into your neck. 

“They wanted to marry me off— Well I would thank them if they actually left me alone after. But no! It was to strengthen the family relationships or something. I was given the job to take over my supposed spouse's family business and gain more power to ourselves, themselves if we're being brutally honest.” Sunday finally let out, after swallowing back a hiccup. He was slowly breaking down in your arms, you felt useless for just laying there and rubbing his back. Like you haven't been expecting his family to cook up something as unreasonable as that. 

Unsurprisingly, Sunday knew that clearly, his pained grin proved it. What really was he hoping for? A kiss on the cheek? He was glad you hadn't kicked him out after the isolation he put you through. So he continued to spill out his troubles to you. 

“Of course I didn't agree to that. I don't want to be tied to someone I never loved, like they haven't caged me enough. So I suggested your family.” 

H-Huh???

You felt your eyes were bulging out of its sockets, mouth agape as you were about to question his decision. What did you have anything to do with his arranged marriage? 

“Atta boy. Stay there and look pretty, I'm not finished.” You huffed with a light blush dusted across your face as Sunday chuckled between his soft sniffles. Even in times like this, he was joking around with you. This was definitely not the mysterious guy the girls were gushing over.  

“They shamed you, us. Called us homos or whatever, I couldn't care less if they were only aiming at me. I stood my ground though, I told them your family is definitely on a higher status than any lady’s that caught their nasty attention. The public’s views are changing, if they throw away their historical mindset, they would see how we can manipulate this difference and act like the family is filled with open-minded politicians.” 

You could tell Sunday felt relieved after that rant, which was filled with sassy remarks, yet something was holding his breath back. His heart beats were still jogging around, visible through your own chest. You then noticed how close you both were, not like as best friends you two haven't cuddled, it just felt so so close this time. 

You felt naked under his attentive gaze, looking at you like you were the best thing that God has given him, your cheeks increased in color by instinct. You let out a hum after a tight silence, taking your eyes off his only to be gently led back by the hand on your chin, hopeful eyes boring into yours.

“To simply put. I want to marry you.”

His breath was so close to your mouth. When did he lean in so slyly? You gulped, you were definitely shocked at this plot twist and your expressions were all over the place. You must have looked like a fool at that moment.

Are you even supposed to reply? If so, how?? 

You only licked your dry lips, which succeeded in distracting Sunday's focus. It would have helped if he didn't look at them with such hunger, you felt like a weak rabbit in the wolf's den. The said wolf then turned back to your eyes, ones that he missed admiring with such fondness— ensuring their shine like they were priceless pieces of gemstone. Sunday looked at you with an unsure look, he didn't know what you were thinking as he assumed your heart didn't belong to him anymore. He did recognize the little glint in your eyes though, quietly urging him to continue, just like when you guys were sharing ridiculous stories in your secret spot as mischievous kids. So he did, he owed you a sincere apology after all. 

“I understand. The guy that broke my heart proposed to me, what's up his sleeve this time? I was afraid. Y/N, my love, my life. If they knew we were together, they would use you against me. They would hurt you and I would rip them to shreds— But you would still be trapped. You don't deserve that, my prince. If I knew we were gonna have this argument, I would have brought up marrying you. They have called you such disgusting names.. But they all hide behind me, that's how it has always been. I would be the one hurting you, I am the one hurting you. It pains me just thinking about doing such sins.” 

You were awfully silent, Sunday cringed at how he could clearly hear every movement of the rain, slowly hitting your window. Each drop turned harsher — copying the movement of his heart against yours. They all reminded him this was real, this was reality. 

He was finally facing reality. What he was telling you will change the future for the better or worse. But he will take this shot because he couldn't afford to lose you any further. You are his lover, there is no other. 

“I am a monster, it is clear now. After I pulled you into this mess, I know for sure of my kind. I don't know how you even loved me. Am I not obsessed with you? Aren't you weirded out by that? I'm scared I would let you down, I haven't even experienced real love before I met you, I can't provide you with the affections you're expecting, love—” 

You pulled him into a deep kiss, hands wrinkling his neat white shirt, he definitely just got out from a meeting. 

You could taste the metallic from your mouth, Sunday was returning the action with harsh movements like no tomorrow, like this was some sweet dream of his, biting your lips in the process. You couldn't care less, what mattered was how his actions were screaming desire, like an animal finally being freed from its cage— capturing its prized possession. He definitely regretted giving you the cold shoulder, holding onto you like you would run away once you witnessed his true form.

If you did, what would he do? No, he won't hurt you. He would probably cling onto you like child with its mother, crying like a newborn. He wou—

“..Y-You said you're scared of letting me down.” You managed to say, heavy breaths with shaky hands clutching onto his shoulders to balance yourself as you cut off his chain of thoughts. It was a battle trying to take control with him, all you could do was let out small whimpers once you felt like choking. Sunday looked at you with dazed eyes, this was a side he has never seen, one he would kill to reserve for his own feast. But he was focused, he was getting accepted or thrown away for good— the latter being slightly off chance. 

“How about sticking around to find out first?” You asked, your tone assertive and filled with trust in him. You knew Sunday wouldn't back down from a challenge, you knew how possessive he could be. But you didn't mind. You were inviting a monster into your own home, maybe you were the monster all along. 

“Y/N, you know this isn't a silly game—” 

“Don't you want to make me proud?” Sunday paused, whatever insults he was about to throw up to persuade your stubbornness cut off from his script. He has never felt so weak before. Not even with the family, they still need him. But not you, the way you phrased that, how you were looking at him. You looked like a deity, talking to a dumb buffoon of a peasant, giving him orders he oh so carved.

God, you're divine. 

Sunday only lean into your soft luring touch, his eyes never leaving those that got him so weak in the knees. Filled with much adoration but also power. 

“Cause I'm so proud..” You gently breathed out, fanning his thirsty lips. As they crashed into each other once again, this time full of longing and love, you both have sealed your fate. Where you go, he will follow along. Sunday knew he is yours now, you knew you have always belonged to him. 

Baby, I'm so proud of you.

© art by @/sisi19980408 on twt

[certifiedlovergirlsstuff]

Hey could you write a fem!reader x Spencer reid where reader was kidnapped by an unsub?

liaison!reader

all your belongs were left in your bedroom, phone included. there did appear to be a struggle, a chair was knocked over and your purse was slipped onto the floor with the contents scattered about. there was a dent, almost a punched hole in the wall near the door. specks of blood left behind.

“i- i was supposed to meet her. we- we always leave the office together, but she was staying behind and- and insisted i go home. it’s my fault.” spencer was shaking as he recalled seeing you just last night in your office. the two of you were talking for a while and you told spencer to head home, said you needed to finish some paperwork you forgot earlier.

if he just walked you home- “it’s not your fault.” hotch’s stern voice stopped spencer’s racing thoughts. “reid, i need you to focus. has she mentioned anything within the past week about strange occurrences happening? feelings that she was being watched?” jumping into ssa mode, looking for breadcrumbs on your trail.

spencer closed his eyes and shook his head, fingers twitching at his sides. “no- nothing. but maybe they- they were following our route after work. saw the opportunity when she was alone.” again the thoughts were screaming at him.

hotch just nodded and pulled out his phone, “garcia, i need you to pull up the security footage from last night. i need all angles of y/n, she’s currently missing.”

three days. it’s been seventy two hours since you were taken. spencer tried not thinking of the statistics that came with the chances of surviving a disappearance, but everyone knew they dwindled each second the clock hit another hour.

but there hasn’t been a body reported yet, so your chances were still high. the team is assuming that the unsub is planning to keep you hostage for up until a week at most, so they have four days left.

he couldn’t eat, he couldn’t sleep. he didn’t bother leaving the office, just camped out at his desk or in the conference room to lay on the couch as he thought. he wanted to tell you he loves you, that each second you spend together is a new memory he can always look back at clearly and yearn for more.

he can’t say he’ll protect cause that would be a lie now, but he’ll always try his hardest to stop this from happening again. spencer would wrap you tight into his embrace to keep the outside world from ever laying a harmful finger upon you.

“reid,” a call of his last name. he spun in his desk chair to see hotch running from his office. “we found him, now we just gotta get her.” spencer never moved that fast in his life than when him and hotch bolted for the stairs.

“y/n! y/n, it’s reid! y/n!” spencer ran through the houses layout with hotch and swat behind him. he didn’t care about himself in this moment, just finding you alive and breathing was his goal.

“found a basement,” he heard over his inear. he scurried down the stairs just as they bashed the heavy door down. he was about to call your name again when his was called first.

“spence,” a whisper in the dark space. flashlights flickered around the room before landing on you, chained to a brick wall as you sat on a dirty mattress. you were disheveled and bruised, you started to sob when spencer pulled you into his gentle hold.

“i got you. i got you, love.” spoken into your ear as his palm caressed the back of your head. your were a shaking leaf and he held you closer and let his lips press into your temple. “i got you.”

[lovelyhan]

— favorite poison ⟢

pairing: wonwoo x reader

summary: no strings attached sex is easy. catching feelings for a person you supposedly hate is hard. it's in times like this when wonwoo wishes he can set the dial to his life on easy mode forever, but everyone knows he's nothing if not stubbornly competitive.

word count: 15.5k words

tags: fuck buddies, not quite enemies to lovers, streamer!wonwoo, streamer!reader, attempt at humor, in denial!wonwoo, angst, smut

warnings: mentions of twitter porn, brief discussions of past trauma, slut shaming, mild violence (wonwoo punches someone in the face), graphic sexual content (minors dni!!)

notes: this is the sequel to underlying pretense! thank you so much for waiting so so patiently for this second part! big thank you to @playmetheclassics for proofreading this monster sequel for me >< i wouldn't have done this without you, indi UEUEUE

this is part of the game over series!

smut tags: implied semi-public sex, game chair sex? jealousy, clothed sex, use of handcuffs, brief spanking, car sex, unprotected sex, oral (m and f receiving), fingering, degradation, dirty talk, daddy kink, hard and soft dom wonwoo, creampie, cum eating, aftercare

svt taglist: @wonderfulshinee - @misssugarlips - @yourfavoritefreakyhan - @jeanjacketjesus - @just-here-to-read-01 - @hanihans - @venusrae - @taestrwbrry - @minnie-mouser22 - @dreamhannies - @thvhannie - @kkooongie - @gae-uls - @lenireads - @gaebestie - @ryusha-rose - @enhacolor - @ilyvern - @woo8hao - @tommolex

wonwoo taglist: @renjunphile - @acgyu - @potatofrieswithketchup - @pluviophile-xxx - @pretty-trustme

fic taglist: @appachicken - @bekah931215

part one - part two - part three - part four

“So when are you introducing me?” 

The buzz of visitors inside the convention hall is already grating enough as it is, but when Mingyu walks over to Wonwoo’s designated booth, all it does is irritate him further.

He doesn’t exactly have to do anything aside from receive gifts from the viewers coming to pay him a visit and take a few photos with them, but Wonwoo is yet to accustom himself to being the center of attraction in front of so many people. So listening to his roommate-slash-best friend asking him stupid questions isn’t helping his case.

“To who? My family?” Wonwoo scoffs. 

Mingyu rolls his eyes. “No. Your girlfriend, genius.”

“What the hell are you even talking about?”

His best friend pouts, and Wonwoo is having a really tough time taking him seriously because Mingyu is wearing one of those hats with bunny ears that flop around if you press the buttons dangling from the front. “You’re always scampering off with some girl from time to time. The others haven’t noticed, but I’m your roommate, hyung.”

Roughly three months have passed since Wonwoo bit the bullet and agreed to be your…fuck buddy? Not-so-friend with benefits? Whatever this arrangement is called, he’s satisfied with getting to let off steam every once in a while, and you don’t seem to have any complaints as long as he fucked you stupid and helped you make filthy content for all the world to see. 

Honest to god, it’s a miracle how shit hasn’t hit the fan yet. But then again, you and Wonwoo were both careful and extremely selective about what gets posted on your secret Twitter porn account and what stays tucked away in the hidden galleries in your phones. That sort of cautiousness is rewarded with having to get away with everything you’re both daring enough to pull off behind the scenes.

Still, it doesn’t change the fact that, outside his sexual relations with you, Twitch streamers everyone_woo and Koyahngi pretty much hate each other’s guts. Even if yours is the best fucking pussy he’s ever had (something you’ll never catch him dead admitting aloud), he’s not about to do a complete one-eighty and treat you any differently in front of his friends and followers. You don’t seem to have any plans on doing that either.

Wonwoo hasn’t once brought you to their shared apartment, so he’s certain that Mingyu is basing all his hunches on pure intuition alone. And just because that intuition turns out to be somewhat right (PSA: you’re not his girlfriend) doesn’t mean Wonwoo has to come clean about his goings-on.

Besides, they’re at a fucking convention. Why is Mingyu trying to hotseat him now? 

“What gave you the impression that I’m ‘scampering off’ with just one girl?” Wonwoo smirks, shaking his head. 

“Whatever you say, elusive gamer who hasn’t felt the touch of a woman that isn’t his mom.”

“Fuck you. You know that’s not true.”

“Well, obviously, you’re smitten with someone, and once I find out who it is, I’m throwing the biggest party in Seoul,” Mingyu says with a huff of indignance coloring his words. He says it like it’s a threat, and Wonwoo makes a face at him. 

“Why?” he asks with a scowl.

“Because I love you, that’s why.” Mingyu then takes off the stupid hat and places it on top of Wonwoo’s head—even putting the work into making sure it fits and everything. “Anyway, I’m heading to Koyahngi’s booth to say hi. You wanna come with, or do you still have a stick up your ass when it comes to hanging out with her?”

Wonwoo has to keep himself from blurting out how he’s not the one with anything up his ass when it comes to you but realizes that if he wants to get Mingyu off his back, he probably shouldn’t make traumatizing allusions to his sex life. 

“I can’t exactly leave my spot until the main program starts. The same goes for you, idiot,” Wonwoo points out. “Who knows how many of your subscribers are looking for you at your booth? Go away and tend to them first.”

Mingyu pouts again, but since his best friend is a guy that’s literally a six-foot wall of muscle, Wonwoo doesn’t feel even an ounce of sympathy for him. “I haven’t even been gone for ten minutes! I just wanted to see how my friends are doing.”

“Then you shouldn’t have set up a booth at all, Gyu.” 

“Hmph. You’re always so stingy, hyung.” Mingyu crosses his arms before turning on his heel. “Anyway, I’m heading over to Koyahngi’s. I heard she’s cosplaying Sage today. Not that you care, though.”

He sounds so genuinely sulky that Wonwoo would’ve laughed a little as Mingyu stomps away to head to your booth. But the mention of you dressing up as a Valorant agent that Wonwoo has started to despise since meeting you makes a couple of memories from earlier this week resurface in his mind. 

Aside from the catgirl gimmick, your cosplays are but another selling point for your streams. You dubbed it the catgirlification of every playable character I like right after Wonwoo railed you two days ago in that same Sage cosplay that Mingyu just mentioned. 

What a fucking weirdo, Wonwoo mused for a second before blowing your back out again, not five minutes later.

About an hour later, the program on the main stage was in full swing, and Wonwoo had just finished doing a little segment with Soonyoung that one of the fans who won a raffle requested for them to do. It was a Pocky Game that got a little too intense because Soonyoung wouldn’t stop fucking squirming, and they nearly kissed in front of the entire audience. Wonwoo doesn’t entirely mind because PR is PR, after all.

The thing he does end up minding, though, comes a little later—after the convention hall settles into a more relaxed atmosphere and everyone is back to booth-hopping. 

Despite what he told Mingyu earlier, Wonwoo took it upon himself to do some wandering around. It’s kind of nice to see other streamers and content creators he’s only ever got to interact with on Discord or their respective streams.

But while he’s munching on a cherry-shaped cookie that Seungcheol is handing out to his visitors, the bane of his existence swoops down on him just when he thought he could finish this entire event in peace.

“Hey, daddy,” you giggle into his ear before swiping the cookie out of his hands, tossing it into your mouth without a second thought. “Didn’t think I’d get to see you today.”

Wonwoo clicks his tongue before shrugging off the arm you draped around his shoulder. “What do you want?”

“Nothing in particular,” you hum before swallowing the food you just stole from him. “But now that I got a taste of Cheol’s cherry cookies, I kinda want some more. Do you know where he is?” 

“I think I saw him flirting with a bunch of cosplayers near the stage.”

Wonwoo startles at the sound of a third party’s voice intruding in your conversation, and from the looks of it, you’re just as startled as he is. Turning around, though, his apprehension ebbs away when he recognizes who it is.

“Johnny,” he says with a small surprised smile before offering his hand for a casual shake. “It’s been a while.”

The famous streamer returns Wonwoo’s gesture gingerly, but he realizes that Johnny’s gaze isn’t trained on him at all. 

“It has been,” he chuckles before turning to you. “I didn’t know you were friends with Wonwoo, doll. How you got someone as cold as he is to warm up to you is beyond me, but at least you’re expanding your network.”

Wonwoo would’ve rolled his eyes. Johnny is just as frank as he remembers. But before Wonwoo can point out that: 1.) you and him are not friends, and 2.) he is not a cold person and therefore has absolutely no need to warm up to anyone, he quickly picks up on the sudden shift in the air. And it’s not his or Johnny’s discomfort he’s sensing right now. 

“Nah, you’ve got the wrong idea,” you respond to Johnny casually, but Wonwoo doesn’t miss how your fists are clenched at your sides. “Wonwoo would rather get banned from Twitch than call me his friend. I just like pissing him off every now and again, is all~ That, and his friends are pretty cool, so I need to tolerate him.”

Johnny laughs before reaching down to ruffle your carefully styled wig. To others, it would’ve looked like a display of casual affection between friends, but Wonwoo is keen enough to notice how you momentarily flinched from the older streamer’s touch. His brows knit together as he attempts to figure out what was going on.

Actually, how do you even know Johnny in the first place?

“Anyway, I’ll be going now,” he laughs before letting one eye drop into a wink. “It’s good to see both of you. Enjoy the rest of the convention, yeah?”

As Johnny exits, you’re a little too quick to fill in the silence he left.

“You’ve gotta take me to Cheol before he runs out of cookies,” you whine, tugging on his arm with a persistent look on his face—not even breathing a word about Johnny, as if it hasn’t been two minutes since he left. “I’m pretty sure I saw him wearing a Pikachu onesie, so he should be easy to—”

Wonwoo immediately cuts you off with a quick yank of your wrist. As he leads you to one of the unoccupied restrooms near the convention hall, your voice drones in annoyingly repetitive succession in his ears while you struggle to free yourself from his grip, but Wonwoo just won’t budge.

Not when he can’t get the sight of you with genuine fear in your gaze when you first laid your eyes on Johnny out of his head.

“Shit,” you whisper hoarsely the moment Wonwoo slams you against the door—a shit-eating grin resting haughtily on your lips as he nudges your thighs apart. “I knew you were possessive, but not this much. Johnny just gave me a few head pats, daddy. It doesn’t mean a thing.”

Yeah. Wonwoo is totally doing this out of some pathetic, alpha male need to stake his claim after another man got his grubby hands on you. Not because he was bothered by that look on your face and can’t think of any other way to help get your mind off it aside from fucking you senseless in a public bathroom.

“Shut up,” he murmurs before forcing your cheek against the cold door. “Now, take off your leggings before I tear a hole in them myself. Can’t mess up your perfect fucking Sage cosplay now, can we?”

You let out a noise caught between a sigh and a whimper as you do as you're told. From three months ago to now, your general opinion on Jeon Wonwoo as a dom has yet to change. Even if he was about to rail you with a fluffy bunny beanie still resting on top of his head.

He’s fucking perfect.

Right after that unplanned quickie, Wonwoo is at least keen enough to observe his surroundings as both of you discreetly part ways and sneak back into the convention. Since the main events were taking place on the other side of the venue, not a lot of people were milling around, and he thankfully manages to blend into the crowd without rousing everyone’s suspicion. 

Well, almost everyone.

“You’re a pretty shitty actor; you know that?”

Wonwoo doesn’t have to turn around to recognize the smugness in Seungcheol’s tone. The moment he lays his eyes on one of his closest friends—still wearing that silly Pikachu onesie and giving out his cherry cookies—he knows he can’t weasel himself out of this conversation so easily. 

“What do you mean?” Wonwoo says, deciding to play along to gauge what Seungcheol does and doesn’t know.

The older man scoffs. “Come on, Wonwoo-yah. You weren’t being very discreet when you pulled our very good cat girl friend into the restroom. Doesn’t help that you both came out looking dishevelled as fuck. So much for hating each other, huh?” 

Okay. He has nothing left to hide then. Great.

“Were we that obvious?” Wonwoo lowers his voice into a whisper, and the only reason he’s genuinely asking is because Seungcheol isn’t the type to joke around about these kinds of things.

“Only to the eyes of someone who personally knows the both of you,” he snickers. “Don’t worry, your secret’s safe with me.”

Wonwoo’s brows knit together, perplexed, but offers no more smart retorts. His heart is still pounding in his chest at the thought of having been seen with you. Fuck. He isn’t usually this careless. Then and there, he makes a mental note to not let his emotions pull the reins on his decisions next time.

“Thanks, hyung,” is all he tells Seungcheol in return. “I’m heading back. Uh, she was looking for you, by the way. Something about wanting more of your cookies.”

Seungcheol visibly perks up at the news, and Wonwoo has to resist the urge to roll his eyes. What is it with his friends and having some weird soft spot for you? 

As Wonwoo quietly slips back into his booth—greeting a bunch of his fans but not in a sociable mood—he recalls the prickle of heat in his chest when he saw how uncomfortable you were during that short conversation with Johnny. The memory makes his curiosity spike again, and he considers asking you about it the next time you invite him over.

But then he reminds himself that he does not have a soft spot for you unlike his friends. None at all. He’s just being a decent human being for having a modicum of concern because of how you reacted towards someone Wonwoo knows to be completely harmless. 

Aside  from the occasional NSFW spam on Twitter, Johnny’s pretty harmless, right?

“Hyung! Group pic, c’mon!” 

Wonwoo hears Mingyu call out to him several booths over and sighs. He probably shouldn’t put too much thought into something he won’t be able to figure out in the next five minutes anyway.

The next time Wonwoo comes over to your apartment is to try out some new heart-shaped handcuffs you bought online. You wouldn’t stop gushing about it to him over text, and he has half the mind to just cuff you to the bed and leave because of how annoying you’re being.

But for some reason, the handcuffs lay forgotten on your unmade bed as Wonwoo sits right in front of your set-up—begrudgingly listening to your instructions as he attempts to solve an overworld puzzle in that stupid game you and Soonyoung kept pestering him to play. Genshin Impact, yeah, that’s the one. 

“You have to hit the purple towers with Electro attacks, idiot,” you sigh. “Dendro is for green towers. Hydro is for blue towers. Did you happen to skip kindergarten or something?”

“I thought elemental reactions applied to these, too,” he grumbles. “You’re the one who said that Dendro and Hydro are good with Electro.” 

“Yeah, yeah, keep making excuses, color dunce.”

Normally, Wonwoo wouldn’t have taken the insult lying down, but he stubbornly chooses to solve the puzzle until he’s finally unlocked the hidden desert area you claimed to be ‘too lazy to figure out right away’. A hint of smugness crosses his features as he flashes you a triumphant grin. Wonwoo half-expects you to just roll your eyes and blame his progress on dumb luck or something, but to his surprise, you clap your hands gleefully before placing a sloppy kiss on his cheek.

“Who’s my smart little gamer, huh?”

“Fuck off.”

It’s perfectly normal for him to hear you challenge his authority outside the bedroom. After all, you’ve made it your life’s mission to push all of Wonwoo’s buttons until he cracks and manhandles you in a way that leaves no room for your brattiness to slip out. Sometimes he likes to think that you rile him up on purpose because the so-called consequences end up rewarding you sexually tenfold instead. Which, Wonwoo thinks, is fucking sick, but from how much he lets you get away with it anyway, he figures that he’s got a few screws loose himself.

“Anyway, how about we check if you’ve got shit luck on gacha games or not,” you announce before nudging your customized gaming chair with your foot—the same one Wonwoo’s currently sitting on—so you can have better access to your mouse and keyboard. “Soonyoung’s luck is abysmal as hell. The only reason he’s got such a spiffy account is because of all those sponsors.”

Wonwoo scoffs. “Are you saying yours is any better?”

“Hey, I’ve got decent luck, mind you,” you huff before clicking a few times, and a new window pulls up on-screen, which Wonwoo recognizes as the wishing page. Soonyoung has shown it to him and the other guys enough times to remember what it looks like.

“Go on, just click the times ten button,” you urge him before tugging your gaming chair back to its original position. “It’s gonna let you wish for a character ten times, basically.”

“I know how gacha games work,” Wonwoo bites back.

“Of course you do,” you coo as he finally does a full summons.

He swears he’s going to edge you until you’re begging and crying later. It’s the least you could do for being such a pain in—

His vengeful thoughts are interrupted when you gasp out loud—eyes glued to the monitor as the shooting star glows like iridescent gold. Wonwoo doesn’t know shit about Genshin, but he’s pretty sure he just pulled a really rare character.

“I just pulled a five-star yesterday.” You scowl, staring at him disbelievingly. “How on earth—”

To your dismay, Wonwoo accidentally clicks on your mouse—ending the entire animation sequence a bit too early. But just when you’re about to berate him for being impatient, your jaw practically falls to the floor when you see all ten of your (technically Wonwoo’s) wish results.

He managed to bring home the featured five-star character five times. Five fucking times. Holy shit?

As you visibly freak out in your seat, bemoaning the fact that this legendary pull happened off-stream, Wonwoo stares at you bizarrely like he always does. You immediately take a screenshot, explaining that the probability of what just happened was several times less likely than you letting him fuck you while you’re livestreaming, but Wonwoo’s mind wanders a little right after that.

So…you would let him fuck you on stream, then? 

Not that it’s something he’s thought about before. Wonwoo likes the privacy your set-up affords him with, and he’s not about to jeopardize that with by committing such an inexplicable act of exhibitionism. But the mere picture it paints in his head is enough to make him swallow thickly. 

One of your stupidly short skirts bunched up to your waist. His hands kneading your breasts as he snaps his hips from behind you. All those pretty noises you make only for him now being heard by your incel-ridden fanbase. He bets they’d even like seeing their beloved Koyahngi get railed on-cam, but the thought of anyone else seeing you in ways only Wonwoo has had the privilege to makes his blood boil.

“Hm? You’ve gone quiet. What’s up?”

His eyes flicker over to your form��knees pressed against your chest underneath the oversized tee you’re wearing. You like to dress comfortably when you’re off-stream, which is understandable because even if you’re just sitting in front of a computer screen, doing so in full cosplay can be a huge hassle. He’s always wondered how you have it in you to put in all that effort for your viewers.

Curiosity lingers in your gaze when he prolongs the silence, but Wonwoo can’t bring himself to answer—mind too preoccupied with a whirlwind of thoughts to articulate any sort of reply. 

He can excuse those horny assholes on Twitter—your main target audience for the filthier content you make on the side. They have no idea who it is they’re really jacking off to anyway. But if some lesser man deigns to even think he deserves to look at you—the real you—while you’re writhing in the throes of pleasure…

You let out an undignified yelp when Wonwoo abruptly pulls you onto his lap, awkwardly straddling him as he stares at you intensely through the lens of his glasses. He can vaguely hear you muttering something about impatient men under your breath, but Wonwoo knows your irritation with him holds little to no weight with how you fold your legs on either side of his hips so his large hands can have better access to your ass.

“This is what you invited me for, isn’t it?” he murmurs, giving your backside a squeeze that has you mewling in response. 

Wonwoo smirks. What a needy little thing.

You gulp. “Y-Yeah, but—”

“Strip.”

“Wonwoo, I’ve gotta post about the wish results!”

He stares at you, unimpressed, and lets his hands fall onto the arm rests of your gaming chair, making you whimper at the loss of his touch. “Don’t make me repeat myself.”

The effect of his authoritative tone manifests all too quickly. You bite your lower lip as you tug on the hem of your shirt, lifting it up just to tease a sliver of skin underneath. Wonwoo narrows his eyes, fully cognizant of what you’re trying to do, but it seems that you know better than to piss him off even further. 

Your shirt falls to the floor and Wonwoo has to keep himself from groaning at the sight before him. It’s one thing for you to forego a bra, but panties, too?

“Do you like it, daddy?” 

Knowing you, the question is meant to taunt than anything else, but Wonwoo lets it pass anyway.

It always drives him mad, how subtle you are whenever you want to get a rise out of him. The way you roll your hips into Wonwoo’s has a tantalizing feel to it and he has to grit his teeth to keep himself from snapping. He’ll play your games and drag this on for as long as he has to. Because he’s been with you long enough to know how much you love it when Wonwoo lets you have an illusion of authority for a sliver of a second, only to bully you into submission right after. 

“Fuck,” you whisper the moment the outline of his erection grazes your bare pussy. “Missed your cock so much… It’s been a while since I’ve had you inside me.”

Wonwoo scoffs. “And whose fault is that?”

“How was I supposed to know these conventions were scheduled one after the other?” You pout before grinding deliciously against his cock once again. He can practically feel how wet you are through his sweats and it doesn’t help that each forward motion brings your perky breasts closer to his face.

Wonwoo lets out another sigh as he wraps an arm around your waist before leaning down to latch his lips onto one of your nipples. You quickly jolt in response—not expecting him to indulge you with pleasure so quickly—but his actions spur you on. As his tongue expertly flicks across your sensitive bud, you quickly haul his aching cock out of the confines of his sweats, grinding your slit across his thick girth. 

You’re convinced that this is enough to get you off. Though you’ve memorized how the bulging veins on Wonwoo’s cock feels like inside you, having each ridge graze across your clit prickles the back of your head with newfound pleasure. A growl reverberates in his chest as you expertly slide your pussy along his dick, and you brace your hands on his broad shoulders to anchor yourself.

“Daddy,” you whine. “Can I? Please? Want it so bad.”

The words are punctuated with a pained moan when Wonwoo’s mouth trails higher before biting down on the junction between your neck and shoulders. He doesn’t miss the way your cunt momentarily pulses from his aggression, and he gladly guides your hips as you rub yourself all over his cock.

“My good little whore, always asking permission first,” he chuckles. “Go ahead. Fuck yourself on my cock.”

Wonwoo lifts you off his lap for a moment, earning himself a whine in protest, but when you realize he’s going to take off his sweats, you practically salivate once his strong thighs ease back onto your gaming chair. You don’t bother catching his gaze for an implicit confirmation. You simply sink down on his cock like you’ve been craving for days. 

A choked out moan gets caught in the back of your throat when he fills you to the brim—making your brain go blank for a moment before you remember to start doing as he asked. Wonwoo watches you through an intense, hooded gaze. The only indication that he’s even feeling remotely good is the way his fingers grip the arm rests tighter whenever your walls clench around him every now and again.

Despite the pure, unadulterated bliss that surges through you every time you’re mounted on Wonwoo’s length, it pisses you off how put-together he typically looks like when you’re on top.

You want to see him just as depraved as you are—panting and thrusting into you like he’ll die if he doesn’t fuck you deep enough. But you can never get Wonwoo to handle you the way you want to be handled when you’re riding him like this. As much as you like seeing those sharp eyes watching your every move, the only way he’ll truly fuck you like you deserve is…

Wonwoo’s brows are quick to furrow once you promptly lift yourself off his lap—length slipping out of your pussy as you make your way towards the bed. However, when you spread yourself out on the mattress face down, ass up, it definitely sparks his interest.

And like a cherry on top, you place those heart-shaped handcuffs of yours on the swell of your ass, almost like you’re inviting him to play with you.

The next thing he knows, the worn out threads of his self-control have snapped. He’s behind you not a moment later—hissing through his teeth as he throws his shirt somewhere on the floor. 

You moan when Wonwoo continues grinding his cock against your ass while he yanks both of your wrists behind you. The cold bite of the handcuffs alerts you to what you’ve allowed him to do, and when the lock clicks in place, you stifle a shuddering sigh into the sheets.

Suddenly, his breath is right next to your ear. “Where’s the key for this thing?” 

You feel Wonwoo tug against the fake metal to test for sturdiness, and you feel your chest warm at his discretion. Though he’s, by no means, soft with you, he always takes the time to check if you’re comfortable with what you’re about to do together—no matter how subtle.

“On the nightstand,” you tell him all while pushing your ass back to meet his shallow thrusts. “You can go wild with the cuffs, daddy. They’re high quality for a reason.”

A low, devilish laugh escapes him. 

“Be careful what you wish for, slut.”

He’s merciless with the way he slides his length back into your sopping hole, one hand pushing the back of your head further into the mattress as the other yanks at the chain link of the handcuffs. Each powerful stroke sends you forward on the bed, and his name tumbles in broken syllables from your mouth as he fucks the shape of his cock into you.

“That’s not what you’re supposed to call me,” he growls before snapping his hips with a particularly punishing thrust. “We’ve barely even started and I’ve already fucked you stupid? Are you so hungry for cock that you’ve already forgotten who I am?” 

“I-I’m sorry, daddy!” you whimper as he pounds into you relentlessly. “Just feels s-so fucking good. Love your cock so much!” 

“Yeah?” Wonwoo lets out a patronizing laugh before tugging on the handcuffs again—putting a delicious strain on your arms that amplifies your pleasure in some twisted way. “When you were out there dolling yourself up for conventions, did you think about my cock? Did you want me to fill you with my cum in the restroom again? You really fucking liked it when I did that to your Sage cosplay, didn’t you?”

“Yes, yes, yes,” you babble as tears start to cascade down your cheeks. “Want to get split open on your cock forever, daddy! Want your cum dripping down my thighs when there’s tons of people around—ah!” 

The sharp sound of one of Wonwoo’s palms colliding with the meat of your ass rings in your ears, and it leaves a pleasurable sting sizzling across your flesh. You can’t help the surge of pride that fills you as Wonwoo moans out loud the moment your pussy clenched around him in surprise.

“Dirty fucking cockslut,” he rasps. “You just love it when you’re being filthy for everyone to see.”

For a moment, you’re liberated from the steady burn your arms have been sustaining in such a complex position. Wonwoo surrenders his grip on the handcuffs—letting your bound wrists fall uselessly atop the small of your back. His cock doesn’t quite slip out of you, but you feel him move around from behind. You crane your neck to see what he’s up to, but when you see him angling his phone in a shot that would definitely make for good content to post later, you feel your arousal spark tenfold.

“Now be a good fucking girl for daddy, and let him show everyone how filthy you are.”

The moment the telltale sound of the record button being pressed hits your ears, Wonwoo reclaims his grip on your dainty handcuffs before resuming his ministrations. You let out a long-winded moan as you meet his powerful thrusts, hands instinctively straining against your restraints out of the need to rub your throbbing clit for faster release, but you know it’s a futile effort.

Behind you, Wonwoo is practically losing his mind over the sight of your creamy essence coating his cock with each slide of his hips. You’re extra responsive with the handcuffs as expected. You’ve always had a thing for switching things up in the bedroom, but you’re clenching around him even tighter than usual. 

He tells himself to just film a few seconds of you getting railed with your heart-shaped handcuffs adding more spice into the mix. Then he can truly have his way with you. 

When he’s satisfied, Wonwoo quickly discards his phone on your bed—eyes darting towards your nightstand before he spots what he’s looking for. Another needy whine reverberates in the air when his cock slips out of you so he can walk over to retrieve it. 

Like the good whore you are, you don’t even move an inch. You patiently wait for Wonwoo to return and fill you up again even if the fact that he’s making you wait in the first place makes you want to be a brat. But when you feel the handcuffs fall away from your wrists after he unlocks them, you whip your head around to flash him a startled look. 

Wonwoo tosses your newest toy away with little concern for their well-being before grabbing your face—crushing your lips together in an open-mouthed kiss.

“Mine,” he growls before manhandling you so that you’re laying on your back. “This slutty fucking pussy belongs to me, got that?”

You nod, moaning as he presses his tongue deep into your mouth. You would say yours in return, but you’re blindsided by the way Wonwoo throws your legs over his shoulders—plunging his fat dick back into the velvet heat of your cunt.

As he whispers the filthiest things into your ear, you figure that Wonwoo must have been just as pent up as you are. The consistency of his thrusts is starting to falter—sharp, calculated thrusts turning erratic and sloppy as his orgasm starts to catch up to him. 

With your hands free, you’re able to reach between your thighs in a feeble attempt at finding your clit. However, when Wonwoo catches wind of what you’re trying to do, he slaps your hand away—eyes boring into you with so much angry disappointment, you would’ve cried and begged for his forgiveness right then and there.

“Come on my cock or don’t come at all, whore,” he warns. “I’m already generous enough to have you writhing on my dick, and you can’t even be grateful about that?”

“I am, daddy!” You insist, tears threatening to spill again as you lace your arms around his neck. “You’re hitting me so deep. I’m g-gonna come soon, please—”

“Does my pretty cockslut want me to come inside her?” Wonwoo whispers before pressing your knees against your breasts. “Does she want me to fill her slutty pussy with my cum?”

“I want it, daddy. Want you to fill me up,” you beg as you desperately tug him down for a kiss. 

Normally, Wonwoo would’ve denied you simply because he can, and you wouldn’t be able to do a thing about it. But for some reason, he lets himself fall into you—lips latching onto yours like he’s done hundreds of times before. 

It seems like the kiss is what catalyzes your release, and Wonwoo groans into your mouth when he feels your walls clamp down on his cock—desperately milking him for his cum. He isn’t too far behind. All it takes is a few more pistons of his hips before he stills inside you. 

The sensation of being filled with his hot cum makes you pull away from his lips as another long-winded moan sings in his ears. Wonwoo’s shudders from the aftermath of his release, all while slowly fucking his emission deeper into your cunt. From the satisfied purr that escapes you, he thinks you like it just as much as he does.

Wonwoo really didn’t plan on staying over. Really, he didn’t. But the way you tug him back down on the mattress right after he’s finished cleaning you up makes him a bit too hyper-aware of his own aching muscles—both from this morning’s weight training and the several rounds he just shared with you. So he lets you snuggle closer to his clothed chest, the warmth from both of your bodies permeating into each other. He’s never felt more toasty beneath a comforter than he does now.

“This is nice,” you tell him quietly. “I wonder if people will like it if I posted videos of us just cuddling.”

Wonwoo laughs, thumbs absentmindedly caressing the red marks left by your handcuffs. “Doubt it.”

Your silly lo-fi music still plays from your computer's speakers , but neither of you could be assed to get up and turn it off. Wonwoo wouldn’t call himself a professional cuddler—you two have only cuddled a total of three times since you started fucking around, and you often complained about how stiff he always is—but from how comfortably your limbs slot into his, he supposes that he’s doing an okay job.

There’s a hint of intimacy charging the air, one that’s leagues different from the carnal lust that clouds his brain every time he fucks you. His chest twists with each passing moment, and Wonwoo makes the mistake of flickering his eyes on your half-asleep form pressed against him. 

It’s been months since you and him started fooling around, but he knows perfectly well that he isn’t the first to have seen you so vulnerable . While he usually doesn’t give a shit about that, and Wonwoo knows the topic is quite sensitive from the little tells he could pick up on for the past few months…

“Can I ask about your old dom?”

Wonwoo can practically feel you stiffen against his touch, which is one of the main reasons why he hasn’t once tried to broach the topic in the past. Even if you could be a nuisance ninety percent of the time, he isn’t a fan of making people uncomfortable on purpose. He’s about to follow his inquiry up with the reassurance that it isn’t a big deal, and you don’t have to answer if you don’t want to, but—

You squirm away from his embrace, and Wonwoo lets you, albeit hesitantly. His shoulders relax when he realizes you’re just repositioning yourself so that you can face him directly, chewing the inside of your cheek like you don’t have the words just yet. 

“He was…mean,” you whisper, forcing Wonwoo to wrap his arms around you once again. “Even meaner than you are. You’re at least a semi-decent person outside the domspace, but that guy? Piece of shit for real.”

Wonwoo nods. “But you don’t really care about that, do you?”

“Yeah. I can look past him being the meanest dom on the face of the earth. As long as he could satisfy me sexually, then we’re all good.”

“So…what made you part ways?”

Your gaze drifts to Wonwoo for a moment. He looks a lot different when his face isn’t bathed in the deep red of your mood lights. His hair is tousled, eyes squinting a little even if you aren’t that far away from him. And the earnest tone in his voice as he posits the question is something you could get used to hearing every now and again.

“Well, I don’t really do relationships, you know that right?” you say and Wonwoo nods. “My old dom didn’t get that though. He was really possessive of me even outside of our sessions together. It got to a point where he would get really…physical with me just to get the point across.”

Silence dips between the both of you—white noise ringing so loud in Wonwoo’s head, he can barely hear your shitty lo-fi playlist anymore. He’s always had a thing for making you cry during sex, but that’s all it is—some dacryphilia play to scratch both of your kinks. No matter how infuriating you are, he can’t imagine himself ever hurting you outside a pleasurable, sexual context.

Then he remembers the first time you invited him over to film some clips. How you stared at him as he cleaned you up like you aren’t used to the aftercare. Like you aren’t used to being treated delicately.

Is that because of your old shitty dom?

“He’s a fucking asshole,” Wonwoo grumbles before pressing your body closer to his. 

You chuckle. “He is. I’m glad I got out of that before things got even uglier.”

“How’d you even get rid of him?”

“Eh, it’s nothing a little blackmail won’t fix.”

Wonwoo’s brow arches at your response. You’re such an evil little minx, it’s actually admirable.

A little later, the conversation about your previous sexual partners fades away, and you’re back to tracing weird shapes on Wonwoo’s chest for him to guess. He spends half the time convincing you to just shut up and go to sleep, but he finds himself indulging you in your silly whims regardless. 

“Wonwoo, you’re a pretty great fuck buddy, you know that?”

He hums. “Why is that?”

“‘Cause you never go overboard with the stuff you do to me,” you say, eyes drifting away from his as you list off the reasons off your fingers. “You always let me annoy the shit out of you without getting pissed for real. You’re good at keeping secrets, too. Oh, and I never have to worry about you looking for anything more than this since you’re a pretty laid back guy. Def not the commitment type, which is exactly my type.”

Wonwoo scoffs. “If I become someone that isn’t your type, would that get you off my back?”

“I doubt that would ever happen,” you giggle.

For some reason, part of him wishes for the same thing.

But you don’t have to know about that.

On the morning of Soonyoung’s birthday, Wonwoo wakes up irritated.

He had a dream about you—one where you stopped being fuck buddies with him because you wanted to try things out again with your old dom. Someone that Wonwoo doesn’t even know, not even by name. Yet the rage that dream-Wonwoo felt upon seeing you hand-in-hand with some faceless punk as you both left him in the dust is almost too lifelike to ignore. 

So, he does something stupid.

He pulls up his phone—ignoring every message asking if he’s going to show up for Soonyoung’s party later—and pulls up his Twitter app. He doesn’t spend much time there, even if he is co-managing your super secret porn account. In fact, he eventually muted the notifs for that too, when the appeal of having your illicit acts shared to the unknowing public finally fizzled out. 

But he doesn’t log in to check the notifications you’ve amassed, as well as the pathetic DMs asking where your location was so they could fly in to fuck you themselves. No, Wonwoo scrolls past all the content you’ve made with him to unearth things best left in the past.

Like the videos he films with his own camera, the ones you made with your old dom are more than discreet—despite the hyper-possessive tendencies you’ve mentioned. There’s absolutely nothing to be gleaned about his identity, and Wonwoo is left wondering how stupid he’s being for wanting to know who it was that made you feel good before he came into the picture.

Why does it matter anyway, right? 

Even if you did hypothetically leave him to fuck around with your old shitty dom—or anyone else for the matter—why would it matter to Wonwoo? The two of you aren’t even friends. And if you had some other person to bother, that would mean less shit for him to deal with.

But why does the thought of letting someone else have you fill him with so much vitriol that Wonwoo nearly melts his cereal bowl with his glare alone when he comes out for breakfast?

“Hyung,” Mingyu calls out from the seat adjacent to his, rightfully concerned. “You okay? I can always grab a new brand if you hate this one so much.”

The taut muscles on his face soften at the sulking tone to Mingyu’s voice. “Oh, uh. Sorry. It’s not that. I was just thinking.”

“Of your girlfriend?”

“...Of how I’m going to break your PS5 if you don’t cut it out with that girlfriend shit.”

Mingyu whines. “Wonwoo-hyung, I paid good money for that! But fine, I won’t pester you anymore if you’re so intent on keeping her a secret from the world.”

A secret… That’s right. 

What you and Wonwoo have is something that not even his best friend is completely aware of. Sure, Mingyu’s roommate-senses have been tingling for weeks, but Wonwoo knows that he will never really know the full story unless either you or Wonwoo let him in on the secret. 

Which will probably never happen if the two of you want to keep your careers, of course.

“Anyway, the rest of the guys are asking if you’re coming to Soonyoung’s party,” Mingyu says in an attempt to divert the conversation, thank god. “Everyone else has already replied except for you.”

“Who else is invited again?”

“Uh, our usual group, Koyahngi, and I dunno, a bunch of other streamers we know. I think some of Soonyoung’s high school friends are gonna show up as a surprise, though, but that’s just what Jihoon told me.”

Wonwoo considers the information at hand for a moment. 

He doesn’t mind mingling with fellow streamers and probably some of Soonyoung’s other friends, but the last time he’s seen you specifically is the day he bit the bullet and asked about your old dom. A conversation which ended on a pretty agreeable note despite the obvious unease on your face when Wonwoo opened the topic.

The fact that you haven’t texted him since is a little worrisome, too. It’s been about two weeks since that happened, and Wonwoo is beginning to wonder if he unknowingly hit a nerve and this is your way of sending him a message. 

He would’ve taken the initiative and checked up on you during your first week of radio silence, but when he catches you doing pretty fine on your latest streams and when he gets roped into some partnership talks with an entertainment agency that wants to recruit him, Wonwoo decides to put it off for later. 

Besides, the two of you are grown adults—so are the rest of your thirsty audience on Twitter. They can survive two weeks without content.

“Yeah, I’ll come,” he tells Mingyu about five minutes later when he’s already putting away the dishes. “What time are we leaving?”

“Uh, the party starts at seven. Do we go early or fashionably late?”

“Early.”

“Of course. Gotta put the senior citizen to bed early.”

“Mingyu?”

“Yeah?”

“Shut the fuck up.”

🐈‍⬛: Are you coming to Soonyoung’s party tonight?

🐈‍: yea, i just need to sort some stuff out

🐈‍⬛: Wow

🐈‍: ?

🐈‍⬛: I just didn’t think you’d reply

🐈‍: is daddy gonna punish me for ignoring him for so long &lt;3

🐈‍⬛: I’m being serious

🐈‍: well, so am i

🐈‍: anyway, tell soonie i’ll be there soon

🐈‍: i’m just talking to someone

🐈‍⬛: Okay

Wonwoo has been hanging out with his friends long enough to know that only a select few can really handle their liquor. It doesn’t help that today’s celebrant is the worst lightweight of them all. It’s barely thirty minutes past eight, and Soonyoung is already screaming profanities on one of the tables—using an unopened bottle of absinthe that Seungcheol gifted him with as a makeshift microphone as he belts out trashy lyrics from songs Wonwoo vaguely recognizes.

Mingyu films the entire thing on his phone, stifling his laughter while sipping on his own drink. Wonwoo can only roll his eyes at his best friend’s tolerant behavior.

At around nine, Jeonghan and Joshua arrive at the scene with a tiger-themed cake in tow, and half the friend group has to physically restrain Soonyoung just so the birthday boy could blow out his fucking candles properly. After criticizing the baker’s work (“The eyes are uneven! Tiger eyes are perfectly symmetrical!), Jeonghan rounds up the other guests to sing a loud Happy Birthday just to get Soonyoung to finally shut up. When the song comes to a close, though, Seokmin giggles a little too conspiratorially before dunking Soonyoung’s face into the cake.

It’s gatherings like this—no matter how rowdy and unacceptably loud—that make Wonwoo stick around. He might not look the part, but he loves it when he sees his friends be themselves outside of their streamer personas. It’s like high school and college all over again. 

But when the clock on his phone reads ten-thirty, and he realizes you’re still not at the venue, Wonwoo considers shooting you another text asking where you were. It’s an idea he quickly shoots down the next second because first of all, you’re not even friends. It’d be weird if he just asked out of nowhere. 

He supposes he could use wanting a quick fuck as an excuse to get some intel on your whereabouts. But the thought of lying to you doesn’t sit right with Wonwoo for some goddamn reason. 

When Mingyu offers him a drink, he half-considers taking it just to get his mind off you. He’s pretty sure his roommate has picked up on his distracted behavior, and is only attempting to soothe him somewhat with some beer. But Wonwoo reminds him that he’s one of tonight’s designated drivers and decides to pass.

Everyone in attendance is in the middle of a game of truth or dare when Wonwoo’s phone buzzes in his jacket pocket. He’s quick to excuse himself when he sees who it’s from and what message was left for him to read.

🐈‍: help me. please.

Thankfully, you had the foresight to send him your location after shooting him that cryptic text, and Wonwoo is glad to find that you’re just a few blocks away. Still, he decides to take his car since the weather decided to be a bitch, sending in an unexpected downpour in the middle of summer.

He pulls over in front of a closed bookshop once he’s sure you’re in the area—looking around for any signs of you. The streets are deserted, and Wonwoo is trying to figure out what could have possibly brought you to this place at this hour. Why didn’t you just head straight to Soonyoung’s party? 

And why did you call him for help?

Through the rain and the poor lighting, he finally spots you—standing underneath the canopy of a waiting shed next to a man whose back is turned to Wonwoo.

He doesn’t think twice. He just gets out of his car and runs in the rain—chest warming at the sight of your downcast face perking up at the sight of him. Wonwoo would’ve let himself be glad that you're safe and sound, if only your current company didn’t turn around and reveal his identity.

From the looks of it, you seemed to be having a pretty heated conversation before his arrival. Johnny was obviously annoyed when he turned to look at him, but the expression fell away when he realized the newcomer was Wonwoo. 

However, a sinister smile takes its place not a few seconds later.

“Huh, no wonder you were so quick to replace me, doll,” Johnny laughs insincerely, sharp eyes trained on Wonwoo as he stares the younger streamer up and down. “It’s him, huh?”

“This has nothing to fucking do with you, Johnny,” you grit out, but Wonwoo doesn’t miss the way your voice nearly cracks. “Can you just leave me alone? You don’t need me when you’ve got a bunch of other girls who want to suck your dick, right?”

Wonwoo observes the exchange with a stoic face that doesn’t betray his surprise. It doesn’t take a lot to realize at that moment that Johnny is most definitely the asshole dom whose face he wanted to pummel into the ground when he found out what he did to you. But the things he does know about Johnny and the things he’s just now finding out makes a storm brew inside of his head—unable to separate what’s fact from fiction.

Johnny’s a nice guy. Wonwoo knows this very well. But then again, he’s also the same person who blatantly likes Twitter porn on his official account, so where does that leave him?

“I guess you’re right, but your pussy’s a perfect fit,” Johnny chuckles. “Can’t help but want to hit that again and again, right Wonwoo?”

He stares down at him hard. “Don’t talk about her like she’s just some thing you can play with.”

“Oh? No wonder those new vids of yours have been extra livelier. Your new boytoy is a big old softie, huh?” Another mirthless laugh echoes in the empty streets, and Wonwoo feels his own body heat up with rage amidst the cold rain. “I never would’ve imagined it was Wonwoo, of all people, though. That really is a magic pussy you’ve got there, doll. I wouldn’t be surprised if I found out you’re fucking his twelve other friends, too. Fucking whore—”

Before Johnny could get another word out, Wonwoo’s fist had already collided with the side of his face—knocking the older man to the ground with a disgruntled sound. He can vaguely hear you calling his name in shock, pulling him back with your little hands as Wonwoo stares down at a person he used to look up to.

“Call her that one more fucking time,” he rasps—eyes alight with anger, “and I’ll make sure it’s not just a busted eye you’re leaving with tonight.”

“Wonwoo,” you plead, tugging on his arm. “Please. He’s not worth it. Let’s just go.” 

Johnny still has it in him to bark out another laugh, spitting out some blood from his mouth and onto the pavement. “Running away again, princess? That’s what you’ve always been good at anyway.”

When Wonwoo moves to lunge at him again, you lace your fingers with his. For some reason, it makes him falter. Wonwoo stares at where your hands are adjoined, then looks into your eyes—glistening with tears as you beg him to stop.

Sending Johnny one last threatening glare, Wonwoo tightens his grip on your delicate fingers before leading you back to his car.

Wonwoo doesn’t return to the party.

Instead, he shoots Mingyu a quick ‘something came up’ text, and that he won’t be able to play designated driver for the night. His best friend responds in kind, saying he should have fun with his girlfriend and just take a cab home. On normal days, he would’ve given Mingyu another unsolicited threat, but tonight, he’s focused on something else.

You’ve been quiet the entire time Wonwoo has been driving, hands placed on top of your lap as you gazed at the lights flashing by in a blur of colors and raindrops pouring down the window. He doesn’t have a particular destination in mind, but he figures that it’ll do you some good to have some time to mull over everything that happened. 

But when the silence gets too overbearing even for him, Wonwoo asks:

“What do you usually do when you’re upset?”

You turn your head slowly, red eyes shining even in the dark. Wiping the tears away, you say, “Buy a tub of ice cream and stargaze at the rooftop of my apartment building. That’s kinda impossible right now, though, since…”

Yeah. It was still raining. Fuck.

“Well,” Wonwoo starts, “we can still get some ice cream if you’re up for it. I know a supermarket that’s open twenty four-seven.” 

You don’t reply, simply letting your gaze drift back to the window, and Wonwoo takes that as an affirmative. 

The two of you sit in the silence so deafening, it unsettles even Wonwoo the silence connoisseur himself. He doesn’t know what he’s supposed to do in this kind of situation. Should he offer you some verbal comfort? Should he promise to deal with Johnny if he comes after you again?

In the end, Wonwoo chooses to preserve the quiet—thinking it’s what you need most right now.

He pulls into the supermarket’s parking lot in ten minutes. He’s about to tell you that he won’t take long—glancing around at the backseat to check if Mingyu left his umbrella there. But before he can even get a word out, you’ve already leaned across the center console, grabbing Wonwoo’s face with both hands before smashing your lips together. 

Wonwoo grunts, grabbing your shoulders as he gently pries you off him. “Hey—”

You don’t listen. Instead, you climb on top of his lap despite the limited space. He knows that the steering wheel digging into your back can’t be comfortable at all, so despite himself, Wonwoo pushes the driver’s seat all the way back. But then you choose to do something he doesn’t expect at all.

With the newfound legroom, you sink to the floor—puffy eyes looking up at him as you work on the buckle of his belt. Wonwoo gives you a stare that’s two parts disapproving and one part curious. In the end, he does nothing about it when you undo his jeans and take his cock in the warmth of your hand.

When it comes to you, it doesn’t take a lot to get him hard. The need to please shines in your eyes as you give him possibly one of the best handjobs in his life. You’re not even uttering a single sound, but your titillating gaze sends all the blood in his system straight to his dick.

Your mouth is on him the next thing he knows—giving his fat head some experimental kitten licks that make him want to shove your head down to the base of his cock. But he won’t. Wonwoo isn’t Johnny. He wouldn’t dare to be rough with you after what just happened, despite your apparent eagerness to give him head right here, of all places. 

The mere reminder of that asshole has him buzzing with rage again, but whatever frustration is left over gets quickly replaced with toe-curling pleasure when you take his heavy length in the heat of your mouth. Your tongue lathers the underside of his shaft as every inch bypasses your plump lips. What your mouth can’t reach, you compensate with your fingers—fondling both his balls and the base of his cock with tender yet salacious touches.

He has to tell you to knock it off. This probably isn’t how you’re supposed to deal with…whatever shit you have going on with Johnny. But your mouth feels like fucking heaven, and Wonwoo isn’t a good enough person to deny himself the pleasure.

The rain continues to pour outside, but the sound of it is eclipsed by the wet noise of you bobbing up and down his engorged cock. As Wonwoo’s orgasm slowly builds itself from the ground up, his large hand gathers your hair in a single clump—tugging hard enough to have you moaning around his length.

“Good, good girl,” he rasps before thrusting his hips into your mouth. 

 When he finally comes, you swallow every drop he pours down your throat. Even when your eyes start to sting with tears, you take it all while Wonwoo holds your head in place. 

As his high starts to ebb away, Wonwoo realizes this is probably the most breathless he’s been rendered since he started fucking around with you. He could probably blame that on the shitty car ventilation, but there’s just something so fucking enticing about seeing you wedged beneath him on the floor—face streaked with tears with remnants of his release still sticking on your lips.

Wordlessly, you peel yourself away as you scramble back to the passenger seat, making a nonchalant comment about how much you’ve imagined sucking him off in his car, but Wonwoo doesn’t quite process it all.

When he notices that the glass of his car windows have all but fogged up, he leans forward—one hand raised as he starts drawing shapes into the moisture. You stare at him with a bewildered look, wondering what on earth he was up to. But the moment you realize what he’s drawing, your expression twists from confusion to disbelief.

Stars. Wonwoo was drawing stars on his fucking windshield with his entire dick still out and everything. He doesn’t even look fazed while he’s doing it.

“You can’t be serious,” you say.

He shrugs and grabs some tissues from the glove compartment to clean up before putting himself away—handing it to you right after. 

He’s so fucking thoughtful; it still gives you whiplash.

“You said you wanted to see the stars, right?” Wonwoo shrugs. “This is the best I can give you right now, so.”

You stare at him for a couple of seconds longer—like you can’t believe a man like Jeon Wonwoo really exists on this earth. Then, you laugh. It’s one of those obnoxious ones that typically have Wonwoo rolling his eyes at you, but it sounds like music to his ears after seeing you cry your eyes out .

Wonwoo does manage to get enough ice cream for the two of you to feast on back in your apartment as you both watch this food show that Mingyu keeps recommending to him. The tricky part is trying to get your hands off him the entire time. 

For someone who went through something pretty traumatic earlier in the evening, you’re fucking insatiable. But Wonwoo’s resolve can no longer be shaken, and the dirtiest thing that you end up doing in your bedroom is giving him a kiss on the cheek before bidding him good night.

It’s only when you’re dozing softly against his chest—having trusted him enough to fall asleep in his company—that Wonwoo realizes something that might change the trajectory of your set-up for good.

He’s in love. 

The next morning, Mingyu greets Wonwoo at the apartment like a mother would her troublemaking son who got caught sneaking home in the middle of the night.

“It’s Koyahngi, isn’t it?” he says point-blank. 

Wonwoo doesn’t exactly have the energy to play some mental gymnastics with Mingyu right now. The moment it dawned on him how he actually felt about you, he couldn’t get a wink of sleep. Thoughts about what he should do have kept him up all night. Should he come clean about it? Should he just leave it be?

But when he remembers what you said about him during that one visit of his…

I never have to worry about you looking for anything more than this since you’re a pretty laid back guy. Def not the commitment type.

That pretty much leaves him with one option, which is the one he’s been meaning to take all along. The idea of having to confess his love for you like some sort of prepubescent high schooler honestly makes him want to vomit. But at the same time, resorting to…concealing his feelings from plain sight doesn’t sit well with him either.

But no matter what he feels about either option, Wonwoo knows that keeping his mouth shut about it is the best option. Especially when you’re still emotionally high-strung from that encounter with Johnny. 

“So what if it is?” Wonwoo grumbles, plopping himself onto the couch right next to Mingyu.

“For what it’s worth, I’ve always thought the two of you were a good match,” his roommate offers, and Wonwoo appreciates his pep-talk. Really, he does. But he’s pep-talking him for the wrong fucking outcome. “You should totally go for it if you haven’t already.”

You don’t do relationships, and neither does Wonwoo. He knows if he uses this line of reasoning as a rebuttal to Mingyu’s words, his best friend will stubbornly insist that he get the girl anyways. He’s always been the one-track-mind type that gives it his all once he’s finally set on something. 

But Wonwoo is nothing like his enthusiastic roommate. He’s cold, and sharp-tongued, and everything you probably wouldn’t want in a boyfriend. All he’s good for is a quick fuck every now and again, and he’s not about to start deluding himself that he can be anything more to you.

(Yet part of him still hopes anyway.) 

🐈‍: are u free today

🐈‍⬛: Be there in thirty

🐈‍: whoa i haven’t even told you what i had planned

🐈‍: what if i actually wanted to take you on a date to the park huh

🐈‍⬛: Did you?

🐈‍: no, my new raiden shogun cosplay set just arrived

🐈‍: and we kinda have this unspoken tradition 

🐈‍: if you know what i mean

🐈‍⬛: You want me to fuck you in it?

🐈‍: always <3

There’s something off when Wonwoo shows up at your doorstep.

He knows you easily pick up on it from the way your eyes narrow slightly when you scrutinize him. From what he can tell, he’s acting as aloof as he always does, yet you still ask him, “You okay?” as if he’s doing something different.

“Yeah,” he mumbles before quietly closing the door behind him.

As you lead him to your room, you tell him that you haven’t put on your cosplay yet because the stockings that came with your order were itchy as fuck, and how you’re thinking of having them replaced one of these days. Wonwoo hums in reply, eyes trained on the takeout packaging that litters your kitchen counter. He has half the mind to tell you to start eating healthily, but reminds himself that’s the sort of thing boyfriends do—not fuck buddies.

Your dainty lo-fi playlist is streaming in your room like always, and when you see the assorted fabrics of your cosplay crumpled on your desk, you heave a tired sigh.

“I’m too lazy to put it on now,” you whine. “Can you just fuck me normally?”

He doesn’t give you a verbal response. Instead, Wonwoo pulls you by the hip, pressing you impossibly close to him as he rests his forehead on top of yours. You startle a little at his abruptness, but your body language betrays no sign of resistance. If anything, you lean more into his touch as the seconds tick past.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” you whisper like you’re afraid of shattering something delicate. “You seem out of it.”

“I’m fine,” he insists, and before you can say anything else in response, he slots your mouths together in a slow, sensual kiss. 

Wonwoo likes to get things done hard and fast. He’s a man who sticks to his schedules for the day if he can help it, so he typically treats these sessions with you as timed encounters. More often than not, he’ll be out of your door in two hours or less so he can dedicate his time to working out or planning for new content.

Now, it’s a little different. He takes his sweet time with you—mouths moving in voluptuous unison as if he’s finally dedicating each second to truly memorize the curve of your lips against his. You moan into the kiss, fingers threading through his dark hair before he pulls away from you with a breathless sigh. 

Wonwoo stares at you like you’re the center of the universe. He can only hope you see the same thing when you stare back.

You know when Wonwoo takes his glasses off, he means business. One moment he’s placing them on top of your nightstand, and the next, you’re suddenly pinned beneath him on your bed—getting your lips devoured by the insatiable man on top of you. 

There’s something so innately alluring to his kisses that you haven’t felt during the last time you fucked Wonwoo in this same room. Those were less kisses and more of a clash of teeth and tongue. Now, he stokes a kind of desire that almost scares you to have. You’re afraid if you indulge yourself too much in this version of him, you’ll get addicted. 

The two of you are supposed to be filming today. Yet you seem to have forgotten all about your plans as you lose yourselves in the heat of each other’s bodies. But despite the mellow pace that Wonwoo has established, the desperation still lingers in his touch. 

He flips the both of you over so that you’re sitting right on top of him, gasping out loud as you steady yourself across his hips. Wonwoo smiles lazily, drawing circles along the curve of your thigh before teasing the waistband of your shorts with a single finger. You whimper as you grind down against his hardening length, still confused about how soft he’s being with you today, but no complaints are going to be filed.

“You want my cock that badly?” he asks, and you nod a bit too enthusiastically. “Then work for it.”

You bite your lip, not bothering to remove either of your clothes when you haul out Wonwoo’s length from the fabric of his sweats. Just a few pumps from your small fingers has him hot and heavy in your hand—making your mouth water with anticipation. You don’t think you’ll ever get tired of taking him inside your tight little pussy.

Nudging the hem of both your shorts and panties to the side, you quietly sink down on his engorged cock with a strained whimper. The lack of prep definitely isn’t doing you any favors, but the raw stretch of him so deep inside your walls sends a rush of pleasure straight to your skull. In no time, you’re bouncing on top of his lap like a bitch in heat—mind hazy with the feeling of Wonwoo hitting you even deeper than usual. 

You sort of expected him to amp up the dirty talk. You don’t always get to ride him like this, yet Wonwoo stays perfectly quiet as he watches you thrash and moan above him. His hands rest comfortably at the curve of your waist, guiding your movements, all while offering up a few thrusts of his own.

It feels so fucking good whenever he hits that perfect spot inside you, but the pleasure pulls the wool over your eyes because you’re completely oblivious to the way Wonwoo is looking at you right now.

He was a fool to think that if he just had his way with you like he usually does, those delusions of his would go away naturally. That it would serve as an anchor to the reality of your relationship with him. But when Wonwoo has you chasing your high right before him—so devastatingly beautiful in the lowlights of your bedroom—he realizes he’s fucked.

All this does is make him fall even deeper in love with you. 

“S-So close,” you whimper, grinding down on his cock with each downward thrust. “Wonwoo, please, please. Fuck—!” 

He quickly shoots up from his initial position, lying down, fingers tangled in your hair as he forces your head close to meld your lips together once again. Wonwoo fucks up into you relentlessly, his breathing erratic against your mouth, all while he tries his best to keep all of his secrets from coming out of his own lips. 

You’re the most infuriating person he knows, but he can’t help but look after you anyways. He claims to hate you, but the way he’s rolling his hips into yours would tell a different story. You drive him insane each waking day, yet you have no clue of the extent of it.

He would never admit it—not in a million, billion years—but you’re Wonwoo’s favorite poison, and he’d rather watch himself burn from the inside out than find an antidote. 

He hates having to hide you away from the world like this. Hates treating you like some sort of dirty little secret. He’s allowed to share you with the world through anonymous pornography, but not as a bonafide lover, and it drives him up a fucking wall every time he thinks about it. 

But the thing about Wonwoo and sex is that once he finally gets to fuck the frustration out of his system, his clarity of mind is a bit too quick to settle. As he helps clean you up in the bathroom, he tells himself that it’s simply impossible for someone like you to want anything more with someone like him. After all, you said it yourself.

You don’t do relationships. 

Who the hell is Wonwoo to change your mind about that anyway?

“Wonwoo?”

He looks up at you just when he just finished wiping a cool, wet towel across your leg. “What?”

Your eyes shy away from his. “Um, you might call me a sap or something, but I…kinda liked it.”

“Liked what?”

“That,” you say while making some vague hand gestures at him. “When you were all gentle with me and stuff. I wouldn’t mind having soft Wonwoo again next time.”

Next time.

The words echo in Wonwoo’s mind far more than what he expected, and he finds himself frowning at the notion. Can he still keep up this charade, now that he’s aware of his feelings for you? How long can he continue the act until he inevitably slips up, and you find out?

How long does he have left before you drop him because he’s starting to want more from you?

“Wonwoo, where are you…?”

He doesn’t hear the rest of what you have to say because he’s already padding out of the bathroom—heart beating a little too loudly in his chest. Wonwoo fishes his glasses from the nightstand and the keys to his car. He’s more than intent on getting out of here as soon as possible, but it seems you have other plans.

“Hey,” you call out before tugging at his arm. Wonwoo forces himself not to meet your eyes, but he feels the intensity of your stare regardless. “You’re acting really fucking weird today. Is there something wrong? Did I do something you didn’t like?”

“No,” he mumbles, wanting to add, I’m the one who’s done something you won’t like, but opting to keep his silence instead. 

“Then…why are you acting like this?” 

The pleading look in your eyes almost makes him cave in and pour out everything that’s been flooding his heart for the past few days. It’s so easy to just rip the band-aid off and be honest. To risk everything for the abysmal chance of you reciprocating his feelings.

But Wonwoo knows that life isn’t a fucking gacha game, and he’s not about to throw away what he has with you now, especially when he knows what he wants doesn’t coincide with what you want. 

“Just having a shitty day,” he reasons, and the lie tastes like acid on his tongue. “I’ll text you later. Bye.”

Before Wonwoo steps out of your door, he makes another mistake of looking back. Now, he isn’t sure if he’ll ever get the image of you on the verge of tears as you stood all alone in your bedroom for reasons he’ll never know

Wonwoo runs into Saerom in the supermarket one fateful afternoon.

Mingyu is usually the one who does the grocery runs for both of them—being the person who knows which brands are best for both food and apartment maintenance and all. But his best friend happened to land himself a modeling gig recently, and they rescheduled the shoot today on short notice. Wonwoo insisted that they could live another day without eating rice, but Mingyu was having none of it, and gave his roommate a full list of groceries he expects him to buy no later than today.

So here he is in the canned goods aisle, expression mirroring Saerom’s when she recognizes him as well. It’s not often that Wonwoo bumps into a familiar face in this part of town, so he’s rightfully surprised.

When she asks him if he’s free to have lunch with her at a nearby bistro, he sees no reason to decline. Saerom has always been his good friend, and it’s only natural for him to want to catch up. That, and he’s curious about what she’s doing here in the first place.

“I just moved into the neighborhood actually,” she explains once the waiter is done taking their orders. “Anyway, how are you? I haven’t spoken to you since that time I hijacked your stream.”

Wonwoo clearly remembers the day she asked him to look out for you all those months ago. Saerom is quite literally an angel, extending her concern even to the people who probably don’t need nor deserve it. He gulps down his water thickly, wondering if he should tell her the truth. 

But with how his brain seems to be all over the place these days, he ends up coming clean about it anyway.

When the food arrives, Wonwoo tells Saerom about the truth behind the porn videos implicating you in the past—how you’re actually the one being filmed in all of them. He also tells her about how Wonwoo takes part in the creation process of said videos (deciding to leave Johnny out of the story because that’s going to be another can of worms to deal with). Then, he ends the tall tale with the begrudging fact that he may or may not have caught feelings for someone he isn’t supposed to.

Saerom listens intently to each word—chewing on her salad with a contemplative look. She never betrays any sort of expression that would suggest her true opinions on the matter, which makes Wonwoo all too thankful that she’s the one he entrusted this with.

“I see,” she sighs once she’s finished the rest of her food. “I knew something was a bit off about her situation, but I’m glad that she’s safe, at least. Although about that budding romance of yours… Don’t you think it’ll be easier if you just discussed it with her directly? An outsider like me can only offer you so much advice, Wonwoo.”

He sighs, stabbing his food with his fork. “I know, but…what if she doesn’t want anything to do with me when she finds out how I really feel?”

Saerom lets out a wistful sigh—staring directly at Wonwoo like she intends for him to remember her next words for a long time.

“Then that’s your sign to find someone else who can accept the love you’re more than willing to give. If she turns you down, that’s more of her loss than yours, you know.”

Wonwoo wants to tell her she’s giving him too much credit. It almost sounds like Saerom is insisting that he’d actually make a good boyfriend. He half-wonders if he should ask her if she accidentally mistook him for Mingyu, but then Saerom’s phone rings in the middle of their conversation. 

It’s a short call, and Wonwoo doesn’t bother listening in to give her some privacy. When it ends, though, she bows her head in apology, letting him know that her boyfriend’s waiting for her at the parking lot.

“It’s nice meeting you again, Wonwoo.” She smiles before pulling him into a hug. “I hope your girl problems are already sorted out the next time I see you.”

Wonwoo lets out an uneasy laugh as he returns her embrace. 

He really hopes so, too. 

One month.

It takes Wonwoo one entire month to reach out again, right after he left you without a word in your apartment last time. Part of him feels like he should be guilty for ghosting you so suddenly like that, but he swears he didn’t ghost you. 

He’s just…giving both of you some time and space away from each other. God knows his judgment gets clouded whenever he’s near you. 

Still, he doesn’t really expect you to forgive him for it right away. Much like Mingyu, you’re the sulky type. But while he usually deals with Mingyu’s sulking by leaving him alone for a few hours, that solution is counterproductive when it comes to you because…he’s already left you alone for a month. Wonwoo has a feeling that if he prolongs it any further, you might not talk to him ever again.

You were already wrapping up this evening’s stream when he left his own apartment, and he figures you’re getting ready for bed when he gets to yours.

His knuckles rap against the door once, twice, and he waits. 

Not that Wonwoo is counting, but it takes you five minutes to answer the door—already in your comfortable pajamas and your kitten skincare headband resting on top of your head. It seems that you weren’t expecting any late-night visitors when your eyes nearly bug out at the sight of him. 

“Won—” You shake your head as if you can’t even bear to say his name. “What are you doing here?”

He hesitates.

Wonwoo doesn’t have an answer for you. He gave you space for one month, and he still doesn’t know what to say when he finally deigned to show you his face. 

Your posture is rightfully apprehensive. Wonwoo can almost imagine how you’ve branded him as a raging ghoster in your head for the past few weeks. For a moment, he fears that you’ll throw him out of your apartment before he can even set foot in it, but you simply wait for him to respond—affording him some patience he definitely doesn’t deserve.

“I…” Wonwoo starts but his voice falters, forcing him to clear his throat awkwardly. “You’re getting better at using Chamber.”

You scowl at him, and if Mingyu was here, Wonwoo thinks he would’ve face-palmed because of how pathetic he’s being right now. 

Seriously? Bringing up the latest Valorant agent she’s playing when you’re supposed to say you’re in love with her? Wonwoo can practically hear his roommate in his head, along with an added, You’re so fucking mid, hyung. 

“Okay,” you say, still visibly wary of his presence. “Anything else? I’d rather get everything out of the way so you can continue ghosting me in peace.” 

Fuck. He knew it.

“I’m—” 

Sorry. I didn’t mean it. I was too scared of how I felt about you to deal with it like a normal person.

“—starting to think that you’re fine without me after all.”

At this point, Mingyu would’ve pummeled him to the ground.

Jeon Wonwoo, you have the emotional intelligence of a rock, imagination-Mingyu points out, and he couldn’t agree more.

“Well, thanks for pointing out the obvious. I am fine without you, asshole,” you bite back snarkily, making the motions to shut the door in his face, but Wonwoo wedges his foot in between. 

“Wait—fuck. I’m sorry,” he insists, swallowing thickly. “Can I come in? Please?”

The desperation in his tone makes you arch an eyebrow. Wonwoo never says please. It’s almost always the other way around, whether in a sexual context or not. So even if you know you should just leave him there like how he left you a month ago, you breathe out a sigh in defeat before opening the door wider for him.

“Fine.”

You’ve never sat at your dining table with Wonwoo. You never had to. Whenever he comes over, it’s either to have sex or let you teach him about a game he can’t be assed to play on his own. He doesn’t stay long enough to warrant asking him if he wants some takeout or leftovers from the fridge, so seeing him nursing a glass of water across from you still feels surreal. 

“So are you going to explain why you suddenly just ditched me, or are we going to stew in the silence all night?” you ask. 

Wonwoo’s gaze flickers over to you irritably, and you hate to admit that the sight of that expression makes a pang of…something ripple in your chest. It’s been so long since you’ve seen him, much less spoken to him, so even if you should be fucking mad, you can’t help but miss him. 

God fucking damn it.

He doesn’t answer right away. Like he’s carefully choosing which words he’ll allow you to hear and which would be better off unsaid. But if there’s something you’ve come to know about Wonwoo after all these months, it’s that he doesn’t have good intuition when it comes to other people’s emotions. 

Even if it seems like he’s being particularly careful about his words, that doesn’t guarantee that what’s going to come out of his mouth won’t be stupid.  

“I just had to clear my head for a while,” he says, providing no context whatsoever, and that makes you frown even more. 

“Clear your head?” you echo as you cross your legs. “From what?”

Wonwoo’s usually aloof look shifts for a moment. An unreadable expression flits across his face, but it’s gone before you can even make sense of it.

“It’s nothing you should worry about.”

“Nothing I should… Wonwoo, you were already acting strange the last time you were here. Then you went ahead and ignored me for an entire month!” You slam your hands on the table, the Wonwoo’s glass rattling in the process.

“How am I not supposed to worry when all this time, you made me think I was the reason you suddenly just flaked on me like that?”

He narrows his eyes at you, as if he doesn’t quite get why you’re pissed. “Why does it even matter? I’m just your fuck buddy, right? Why should you care if I just come and go whenever I feel like it?”

The apathetic tone that accompanies his words lances straight through your chest. Were you an idiot for believing that the look he wore earlier in front of your apartment was genuine? That he was actually apologetic for leaving you alone with your thoughts as you wondered what you could’ve possibly done to drive him away without a word?

Your fists shake from where you’re pressing them into the polished wood of your dining table. Wonwoo’s indifferent stare doesn’t let up, and as the white noise rings in your ears, it makes you wonder…

“Why’d I have to fall in love with someone like you?”

The words come out so softly, so quietly that you doubt Wonwoo would’ve heard you. But as your vision gets blurry with tears, you don’t see how  surprise begins to eclipse his aloofness.

Wonwoo felt his heart drop to the pit of his stomach when his ears caught what you just said. He couldn’t have heard wrong. It was too quiet in your apartment to mistake what you said for anything else.

You’re…in love with him?

“You know what?” You breathe in deeply, eyes darting up to the ceiling as you wipe off the evidence of your vulnerability. “Just…leave, Wonwoo. I can’t talk to you right now. Please.”

“Say it again.”

When your gaze drifts back to him, it’s accompanied with an expression twisted into disbelief.

“What?”

Before you can even think about what he could even mean by that, Wonwoo gets up from his seat, striding over to your side of the table. You flash him another apprehensive stare, but all of a sudden, he cups your face in both of his hands—delicately, like he’s afraid of breaking something precious.

“Tell me you’re in love with me.”

You immediately bristle at his request. “Are you fucking insane? I know you’re a sadist but—”

Wonwoo presses forward without warning—capturing your lips in an unsolicited kiss that catches you off guard but angers you at the same time. No matter how badly you missed having him pressed up against you in more ways than one, you’re not going to let him trample on your feelings again. 

“I hate you,” you rasp, salty tears breaking their tension across your lashes as they slide down your cheeks in glistening streaks. “I fucking hate you, Jeon Wonwoo.”

Your words carry little weight to them, and Wonwoo is completely aware of this. Almost like he’s trying to placate you, he wipes your tears away with the pads of his thumbs—that hard-eyed gaze weathering into something softer, more sincere with each passing second. 

You abhor how handsome he looks like this.

“Is that your way of telling someone you love them?” he chuckles breathlessly, lips rising to the crown of your head as he presses a soft kiss on top. “If that’s the case, then…”

“I fucking hate you, too.”

Wonwoo isn’t sure how long the two of you have been going at it, but by your fourth orgasm, your newfound lover is yet to be sated.

“Again,” he growls, tugging your limp body closer to his. “Say it again.”

One of the things Wonwoo particularly likes about exploring all sorts of sexual escapades with you is that you teach him things about himself that he never even knew about. 

First was that stupid daddy kink, and now…

“I love you,” you whimper, mindlessly grinding against his still hard cock despite being worn and spent. “I love you, Wonwoo.”

Despite the fact that your honesty drives him to near-insanity, Wonwoo can’t help the relieved sigh that fills his veins every time you utter the words. At first, you stubbornly kept up the act of hating him as he railed you into the mattress, but with every mind-numbing orgasm, your hate slowly bled into love, and Wonwoo finds it fucking cathartic. 

You beat him to what he came over to tell you himself. It was a little embarrassing on his part, he has to admit, but there’s some sort of relief that comes with knowing the same person he’s been vying for also feels the same way.

He’ll tell you the words properly someday.

Maybe not today or tomorrow, but Wonwoo promises that he’ll let you hear how much he adores you soon enough.

For now, he’ll give you one last release.

He’s certain that he can still go one more round, but he can’t really say the same for you. If Wonwoo makes you cream on his cock one more time, he’s afraid you’ll actually pass out from exhaustion. 

So instead, he lays you down on your plush pillows—crawling lower down your body until he finds himself between your legs. He chuckles when you crane your neck weakly to see what he’s trying to do, but Wonwoo is already hooking your thighs over his shoulders before you can say a word.

Your body twitches from oversensitivity as his tongue laves at your ruined cunt—not caring that his own spend has mixed with yours from where the creamy liquid seeps from your hole. Wonwoo groans into your cunt when your thighs squeeze around his head as if meaning to suffocate him with your pussy.

Honestly? If that’s the way he’s gonna go, he’ll accept it with open arms.

“Daddy,” you mewl, fingers tangling in his tousled hair. “I c-can’t anymore…”

Wonwoo suckles at your clit in response, earning himself a high-pitched whine as you roll your hips into his face. For someone who claims she can’t come anymore, you’re awfully eager for him to pinpoint your orgasm again.

“You can, baby,” he insists, peppering your inner thighs with kisses. “You can ‘cause you’re my good girl, aren’t you?” 

He feels your inner muscles clenching at his words, and Wonwoo makes a mental note to praise you more often. You might just like that more than his run-of-the-mill dirty talk after all.

“‘m your good girl,” you babble. “Always daddy’s good girl.”

Fuck. You’re going to be the death of him.

When you’ve recovered from the crest of your final orgasm, Wonwoo carries you to the bathroom and carries you into a bath he’d drawn himself. You complain about how he didn’t set the temperature in the tub right, and Wonwoo promises to do better next time. 

As the two of you soak in the semi-warm water, Wonwoo rests his head against the tiled wall—the fatigue starting to seep into his bones. He doesn’t let himself complain, though, because if he’s feeling spent, he can only imagine how sore you must be feeling. He wonders if he should order some food for the both of you or just let you sleep right away.

“Wonwoo?”

He raises an eyebrow at your meek voice calling out to him. “Yeah?”

You shift a little on his lap, turning around as droopy eyes bore into his. Wonwoo is about to call you out for being weird, but the words evaporate on his tongue when you lean forward to peck his lips. 

“Can I borrow your phone?”

He tilts his head to the side, wondering why you’re asking for his phone. You couldn’t possibly be asking him to film some content here in the tub…right?

Wonwoo watches in complete silence as you open his Twitter app—further feeding into his curiosity. But he doesn’t comment on whatever it is you’re about to do, patiently watching as you maneuver around the accounts logged onto his phone. 

However, when you pull up on the Settings tab of that porn account the two of you have been running for months, scrolling all the way down—

“What are you doing?” he asks as your finger hovers over the ‘Deactivate account’ button.

You glance at him, confused. “I’m getting rid of this account. What else does it look like?”

“Why?”

“What do you mean why? I can’t share my sex tapes with the rest of the world now that I have a boyfriend.”

The bathroom falls silent for about three heartbeats before Wonwoo wraps his arms around you in a tight embrace. You yelp in surprise, struggling against his iron-tight grip in a way that has water splashing all around you. Wonwoo couldn’t care less, though.

“I love you,” he murmurs into the naked skin of your shoulder. 

You don’t respond for a while, like you’re surprised by his easy admission. But the tension in Wonwoo’s spine unravels when you rest your head across his shoulder, chuckling as you caress his face tenderly.

“Don’t you dare think I’ll let you off the hook though,” you chide. “You’ve got several months of dates to make up for. Just because you took the express lane into being my boyfriend, doesn’t mean you get to skip out on the effort that normally comes with it.”

Wonwoo shakes his head, turning your face so his eyes can meet yours. 

He can’t believe he was stupid enough to run away from his own feelings for an entire month. If only he’d been more honest with both you and himself the last time he was here, he could’ve spent all the weeks after with you cradled in his embrace.

But then again, it’s the choices you both made so far that led you to where you are now.

And for now, he’s perfectly content with that.

“Challenge accepted.”

part one - part two - part three - part four

q: is there going to be a third part? a: yes! however, part 3 is literally just in its early stages of creation. i don't even have a serious doc for it, just a few vague plot bunnies gathering dust in my head SJDFHDFG BUT since i'm feeling generous, attached below is a little sneak peek of what you can expect!

This is, by far, the worst day of Mingyu’s life. Okay, maybe he’s exaggerating, but he likes to think that he’s a man of routine. If he doesn’t get to do his morning rituals right before his streams, it feels like the world has been tilted a few degrees off its proper axis. And that’s exactly what’s happening now, when Mingyu realizes that his favorite Twitter porn account is nowhere to be found.  How the hell is he supposed to get his daily dose of relief now?

aaaaaand that's all i have for now! thank you so much for waiting patiently for this installment! it took me an entire month since i posted the teaser, but here it is hehe :3c i hope you all liked it! do stay tuned for that third part, whenever the hell i can get around to writing it T T

this is part of the game over series!

[madridfangirl]

A Weekend in Ibiza - Part 2

(Jude Bellingham blurb)

(Part 1, Part 3, Part 4)

2.6k words. Jude*female reader. Suggestive language.

A/n - When we don't get Jude holiday content, we make shit up

.............................................................................

The cold shower calmed your nerves and cleared your head. The fog lifted from the brain, replaced with fury. 

That fucker, that assholic fucker, really thought he could play you like this? Just waltz into your peaceful space & bend you to his will?

What a sad, little life he lived if that’s the kind of people he was surrounded with. 

Oh, you were gonna show him his place. Real good.

What you did next shocked you. But propriety had gone out of the window the moment he turned this into a battle of wits, dragging you in as an unwilling participant.

Jude was done with Round 2 & was lounging on the deck when he heard his spare phone buzz. He lazily felt around the surface for his waist bag, too blissed out to move. The naked woman lying half on top of him, feeding him grapes was a factor too.

What he saw made him rub his eyes & sit upright. The woman whined at the interruption, which he barely registered.

‘Naa I am busy. Going snorkelling with this one.’ 

Attached was the back image of a man. A big, well built, shirtless, heavily muscular, glossy skinned, wet man. A surfer’s body. 

‘And who is he?’

‘Met him on the beach just now. Said he wanted to show me a few things. Am gonna let him.’

That was a sucker punch to the gut that he didn’t see coming.

‘You are bluffing.’

‘Yeah? Want me to send you a pic after? Don’t think we’ll find a bed but a remote island maybe?’

He called you. Disconnected in the first ring. He called again. Same result.

‘Don’t do this. It’s not safe.’

‘I am a big girl, I can handle myself.’

‘What happened to the no casual sex policy?’

‘A girl can change her mind. CERTAINLY for a guy like that.’

‘Rubbish - he looks OLD.’

‘Word you are looking for is experienced. A MAN, not some little boy fresh out of his teens.’

‘Look, I’ll stop if you stop.’

‘Never asked you to stop. Never asked you for ANYTHING. Infact, I explicitly told you to go with the woman throwing herself at you.’

‘HE WONT KNOW WHAT TO DO WITH YOU.’

‘I’ll find out soon, won’t I? Hope he likes my new swimsuit.’

Jude resisted the urge to throw his phone in the water. The woman looked at him curiously as he paced around the deck.

Confrontation wasn’t helping his case, so he changed tact.

‘Listen, we got off on a non-ideal note. I can see that. But we can talk this through. I’ll come back right now, yeah? Just give me like 15 mins.’

‘1) The world does not revolve around you 2) Actions have consequences 3) Chris is waiting & I am going to him now. Will be MIA for a few hours. Bye.’

Jude called again. You didn’t pick up. He left one final, desperate message.

‘Please don’t do this. I am sorry. You can get back at me in other ways. Please.’

You smiled victoriously as you looked at his plea. Two please and a sorry in one sentence. Ergo, mission accomplished. Who knew a picture of Chris Hemsworth in your gallery would come in so handy one day. Oh, the benefits of thirsting.

Putting your phone on airplane mode (to let him stew further), you got under the covers, still in your bathrobe, and drifted off to a peaceful afternoon nap.

Complete contradiction to his state.

Jude was struggling to wrap his head around what just happened. And why it was bothering him so much. He stripped to his briefs and jumped in the cool, crystal blue water. To erase the images plaguing his mind. Of you in your swimsuit. Of you and that horny geriatric fucker.

At one point he even looked around the water, trying to look for the snorkelling spots. Then cursed himself for being reduced to that. 

The current was brisk, numbing him enough to think straight. All wasn’t lost. Not yet. He just needed to come up with a better move. A different move. Coz you were different, it had been well established. The rebuttal did bruise his ego, he admitted to himself, but he was still sure he wasn’t wrong in sensing your attraction. It just needed the right nudge to bring you to him.

He emerged from the water, enthused again, and the woman rushed to him, offering to help him de stress & unwind from whatever was bothering him. Jude was never gonna pass up on a quick head in the loo. As he thrusted into her mouth, he found himself wishing it to be you.

If only you had been that easy. But then, the chase won’t be as fun, the anticipation not as deep. Plus he was certain your affections couldn’t be gained from fame, money or expensive gifts. You’d probably throw them in his face if he attempted that. 

He wondered if things would be different if you knew who he was. That there was a different side to him too. An idea struck him then, right at the peak of his orgasm.

You woke up after 3 long blissful hours, stretching your limbs, still burrowed under the covers, and put your phone off airplane mode.

One message from him, from an hour ago.

‘Atleast tell me you are back safely.’

The change in tone did not go unnoticed and you figured this merited a response. 

‘Just got done. Exhausted. Gonna sleep it off now.’

Letting the innuendo hang in the air, you ordered your evening cappuccino & croissant, enjoying them in your private balcony overlooking the waters. And played your favourite music, as you watched the evening sun cast patterns in the sky. Splurging for this room was turning out to be a great decision after all.

Curiosity got the better of you then, and you succumbed to googling him, to know more about this ridiculous/ridiculously handsome creature.

When you looked, you prayed you hadn’t. The guy wasn’t just atrociously hot, but he was many other things. Damn good at his day job (excellence at work was your primary turn-on). Well spoken & articulate (wtf happened to him today then?). Wholesome with his family (your number 2 turn-on). Unbelievably amazing with kids (you could jump from the balcony right now with the number of boxes he was ticking). And just generally affable & affectionate to everyone around.

You scrolled & scrolled through countless reels, & wondered which was the real him. The dickhead he was this morning or this angelic creature loved by all & sundry? Everyone seemed to swear by him. Did you catch him on a bad day then? Or was this a carefully crafted public persona to fool the world?

You kept going back to that one video with kids, which was melting your insides. 

That, and another one with him being abrasive on the pitch, picking up fights. Some would have called it cocky, and it was, but it was also inexplicably hot? Knee-wobbling hot? It was the same cockiness he had this morning but that had put you off. This video, though, was making your head spin. Giving him a power you never wished for him to have over you. And his body, oh god that body, plus the way he carried that attitude. 

You quickly threw the phone away, hoping you weren’t in too deep already. Consciously reminding yourself what an entitled prick he had been and how furious it had made you.

Needing an immediate distraction, you called home & listened to your 4 year old nephew babble for a good 30 mins. And your mom telling you all the news from back home for another 30 mins. 

Dinner was the next distraction. You took your time in picking a delicacy, settled on paella, a glass of wine and put on a comfort movie on Netflix as you enjoyed your dinner in bed. For some reason, you were avoiding going outside.

It was 10 pm, the sun had finally set making it feel like night time. No more messages from him since the last one to check on you. Which was a good thing. Which is what you wanted. Right? 

Yes, of course. Finally you were rid of him. He must be out, doing something, or someone. Far far away from you.

A quick look at his Insta won’t hurt, would it? It would just confirm his whereabouts, so you can finally be at peace, away from him.

One new post. From 2 hours ago. Captioned ‘Making memories’. A bunch of pics from his day - sunbathing at the yacht, lunch with friends, frolicking in the water & sun-set. Carefully avoiding any hint of the women she knew were a part of his entourage. Just the guy friends made it to post, making you roll your eyes loudly.

When you reached the last pic though, you did a double take. For the second time today, the glass nearly dropped from your hands.

The pic had a glass of wine, and a tissue paper next to it. You could tell it was the same tissue they had used to exchange notes - it was in a blurred background, difficult to spot for others but you could make out your handwriting. And his.

Tagged to it was a song - Can’t we start over again.

You questioned your grip on reality as you read the lyrics of the song.

I know I’ve caused you pain.

Took you for granted.

I’ve been such a fool.

Can’t we start over again?

What the holy fuck was this? What in the name of god was he playing at?

Half-mad, half dazed, you quickly dialled his number. It rang & rang for eternity, he picked up on the last ring.

‘Missed me?’

It just hit you that you were hearing his voice for the first time. It was deeper & huskier than you had imagined. But you quickly regained control of the situation.

‘Are you mad? Are you totally completely mad?’

‘Saw the post, huh?’

‘Damn right I did. Seriously, what were you thinking? What if your horde of fans put two & two together? What if people start assembling here to inquire? God, what if people find that waiter? Jude, what did you do?’

You started to hyperventilate, pacing around the room.

‘Ok. Take a deep breath & listen to me, yeah? No one knows we are talking, not even my friends. The waiter I tipped handsomely to forget about what happened. The note is blurred, no one can make out what’s written other than you & me. All others will see is just a glass of wine on a holiday. And a reminiscing song which can be for anyone. Or maybe they’ll think I am drunk. There is zero way to trace it back to you. Heck, even I don’t know your name yet. So relax. I won’t compromise your privacy when you made it clear how important that was to you.’

His soothing voice, coupled with unassailable logic, calmed you instantly. You could almost laugh at how you had overreacted. Almost. You weren’t gonna tell him that.

‘Are you with me?’

‘Umm yeah, guess you are right.’

You could hear music blaring in the background. He must be out partying at some club when you rudely interrupted him. You were about to ask him to go back to what he was doing before he chimed in.

‘So, did you have fun today?’

You rolled your eyes at his roundabout attempt to ask what he really wanted to ask. Well, two can play this game.

‘Oh yeah. Great day, super relaxing, after a long time.’

‘Ended too quickly, no?’

‘Excuse me?’

‘Well, if you were with me, no way we would be done in just 3 hours. No way you would be alone tonight, checking out another man online.’

He had just shown you how you were an amateur in the game he was a pro in. Honestly, you hadn’t even anticipated this line of thought. But clearly he had. In the same way he knew you would check him out online. Damn him, to the moon & back.

‘Told you he looked geriatric. Did he even…?’

‘Shut up. Shut the fuck up. Not another word on this.’

Your breath was laboured by now. What gave you solace was that his was ragged at the other end too. He wasn’t unaffected either. Both were silent for a bit. He broke it eventually. 

‘I meant what I said in the post. Shouldn’t have done what I did. Not to you. Wasn’t really thinking straight.’

‘Not to ANYONE.’

He had the good sense to stay quiet and not point out that it worked with others.

‘Yes. Can we get past it? I feel like I have been rejected enough for one day.’

You couldn’t stop yourself from chuckling, & he caught the shift in your mood.

‘Maybe.’

Now that was a window he didn’t think he was gonna get. And was extremely pleased with himself for getting here.

‘I’ll take that. Now, you know damn well I want you. And I know you are thinking about me too. Don’t start denying it, that wasn’t a question. Why are you fighting this, baby?’

Again he was cutting straight to the chase. This time though, it didn’t annoy you. It made you nervous, as you twisted & turned in your bed.

‘I told you why.’

You said softly, surprised at the tone of your voice.

‘Let me come over there & change your mind.’

‘I..I don’t know, Jude.’

He gripped a nearby pole harshly at the way his name sounded in your voice. 

‘Tell me, do I make you nervous?’

The accent was thicker now, making him even sexier. Making you bury your head in the pillow.

‘The situation makes me nervous.’

‘But me too?’

A pregnant pause. Then, a faint whisper.

‘Yes.’

‘I won’t do anything you aren’t ready for - trust me. Heck, knowing you, you’d probably kick me out naked if I try anything like that.’

You sighed into the pillow, and had no idea what these sounds were doing to him.

‘Aren’t you curious? Haven’t you pictured us together in bed, naked & wrapped around each other? Coz that’s all I have been doing since morning.’

‘Jude….please..’

‘Think of it as an adventure, yeah? A weekend in Ibiza that both of us would remember. We are wasting precious time, baby girl. Please, just please let me come to you right now & show you a good time.’

He had laid all his cards on the table, and waited for your response. Like it was judgement day.

You breathed heavily into the pillow, as you arrived at your decision.

‘Not tonight.’

‘WHAT?’

‘Not tonight.’

You could hear him breathe raggedly at the other end.

‘So, tomorrow then?’

‘I…don’t know, not yet.’

‘You are seriously gonna leave me hanging like this?’

‘I am sure you can find ways to distract & humour yourself in the meantime.’

More heavy breathing from him.

‘Are you a professional torturer of some kind? If not, you are in the wrong line.’

‘Thanks for the suggestion, I will think about it. Now, go back to your party.’

‘HANG ON. Are you for real?’

‘Very much. Now, be a good boy & let me think, yes? Bye, Jude.’

You blew a kiss into the phone & disconnected it, leaving him squirming & stunned at the other end.

................................................................................................

Hoping and praying this delivered the tension & takedown you all so vociferously wanted :))

There will be a Part 3 and I swear it will have smut 😂

Feel free to drop in your asks / suggestions for the next chapter - I moulded this chapter on the overwhelming sentiment in the asks :)

[vhaos-chaotic-writing]

idea.. Yandere! tfa! Blitzwing x autobot! y/n who is energetic and transforms into a tank (and is also significantly smaller than him) ... Haven't seen a lot of Yandere Blitzwing and thats make me sad bc he's my pookie...

Oooh! I'm once again poiting out to have a lil bit patience with me cuz I've never seen TF Animated - I'll do my best to give the best accurate writing of the characters, specially someone like Blitzwing!!

(❁´◡`❁) Hope you like it!

(TFA) Yandere!Blitzwing w/ energetic Autobot!S/O (Headcanons)

WARNINGS: Yandere behaviour, yandere has multiple personalities (canon), enemies-to-lover (unilateral). Reader is Gender neutral, Reader is Cybertronian with an established alt mode (a tank) and established height (smaller than Blitzwing, 1 inch taller than Bumblebee)

Oh Primus - where to start? Blitzwing is such a special case, and, in my point of view, one of the most complex yanderes in my vision of TFA.

You don't have 1, or 2, but 3 whole yanderes coexisting in the same frame. And they all like you - very, very much.

Icy Blitzwing is a manipulative, obsessive yandere.

Hothead Blitzwing is a possessive, overprotective yandere.

Random Blitzwing is a delusional, hysteric yandere.

And such traits become 10 times worse with the fact that you were an autobot - the supposed enemy he is tasked to destroy if the chance is placed on the table.

Weren't you just the sweetest, most beautiful pain in the aft for Blitzwing? Even when you were smaller (barely beating Bumblebee for 1 single inch in height), you were such a ball of energy and a menace in your tank alt mode whenever you were fighting decepticons.

In the beginning Blitzwing would have hated you.

You always got away with the trouble you give to the Decepticons whenever they clash and battle with the Autobots - and in the beginning, Blitzwing thought he hated you just in a normal amount. The typical "oh they defeated me and my faction!" hate.

But whenever he saw you be all buddy-buddy with any of your autobot teammates... something inside of him wanted to become violent.

More than usual.

And it bothered him for so many days - whenever your image came to his mind he would become more irritable in his Icy personality, more aggressive in his Hothead personality, and... eerily silent in his Random personality.

It was in one fight between him and you that he finally understood everything. Why his feelings towards you felt too strong for his liking.

He didn't hate you. He loved you.

"C'mon, decepticreep! Thought you were one to actually put on a fight!" You shout, giggling as you change from your tank mode, smirking at how bewildered Blitzwing was, as you were ready to throw another kick and punch.

You were awaiting for an explosive outburst from his Hothead personality, or watch his Icy personality lose his coolness - heck, even to see his Random personality start to laugh or something.

Instead... you were met with his three faces switching, all of them smiling as if he had found the answer to every single question in the whole universe.

"Ze name iz Blitzwing..." He started, Icy. "And you are..." He continued, Hothead. "MINE!!!" He finished, his Random persona switching his faceplate and jumping towards you, trying to tackle you.

Thanks to Primus, you got to escape that day and go back to your safe place in the Autobot's base, but from that day one, the decepticon became way more unhinged than he was already.

And he would get worse if he got to see you again.

His switching personalities became more erratic, and yet somehow worked perfectly.

His Icy personality would make him extra dangerous with his tactics and taking-decisions ability. He had from time to time managed to get you away from your team in battles and nearly got his servos all over you. Like he always had the upper hand and manipulated the whole situation in the end, as if a cat and mouse play.

His Hothead personality would became a beast, getting everything and anyone out of the way with such a fierce force that it was nearly unstoppable as he would try to get to you - a couple of times he had got to immobilize you if it wan'st thanks to one of your teammates helping you get out of that situation. Always threatening to get you next time and shout a couple of death promises to anyone who saved you.

His Random personality would drain you emotionally - between trying to save your aft by fighting or trying to escape him, Blitzwing would say dark, lovesick promises, what he would do to anybot that got to place their servos on you and so on, laughing hysterically. It made you feel sick and actually be afraid of the decepticon.

"My love! My sweetspark - soon you'll see the truth, and you'll be mine!"

Optimus and the others are so concern, having witnessed too many times how obsessed the decepticon has become towards you.

They can't keep you inside of the base, they need you out helping and you have put down the idea of staying back.

But Blitzwing is counting the kliks, keeping an optic on everything and you, calculating, thinking, waiting for that little window of opportunity to snatch you away, for the day your luck runs out and you finally end up in his arms.

Oh, to hold your smaller frame with his servos, to kiss you, to feel your plates with his digits, to have his spark bond with yours - it is going to be perfect!

Ngl, I like how this one turned out! (*^▽^*) Vhaos out!

[blindmagdalena]

Center Stage in a Gilded Cage (chapter seven)

18+ 7k. homelander x f!reader. stalking, kidnapping, imprisonment, abuse, forced relationship, slow burn, heavy dubcon, fingering, clothed/unclothed, dry humping. gif credit | fic directory | AO3

As promised, Homelander allows you an opportunity to say goodbye to the life you knew. After which, he does what he must to prove that you belong with—and to—him.

Days spent with Homelander are simultaneously long and yet strangely fluid, hours blending seamlessly into one another. Every day that he comes home, you endure the flip into what you’ve privately begun to refer to as “performance mode,” in which you’re playing the role of doting girlfriend.

So long as you maintain the idea that it’s a performance, you don’t have to think too much about how good the heat of his body feels against yours. You don’t have to question the ease with which you’ve taken to toying with his hair while the two of you watch television, or why you don’t mind it so much when he rests his head in your lap.

There was a day he came home early and caught you absently dancing in the living room while you tidied. That alone was embarrassing, but it was mundane enough of a thing to be brushed aside, to forget. Except that he wouldn’t. He’d fixated on it like a dog with a bone, and you’d had to endure his relentless teasing about it for the rest of the day.

“You act like you’ve never seen anyone dance before,” you’d said.

“I haven’t,” he said. “Not here.”

Your role here has many names: girlfriend, cook, therapist, maid, lover, and reinventor. It’s about more than just romance. It's a complete transformation of his empty, lonely world.

It’s what you must do to survive.

You learn quickly that he’s a creature of habit, favoring the same routine each day. He gets out of bed at the same time every day, showers for the same amount of time, and asks for the same breakfast that he does not eat. 

It drives you crazy to cook a breakfast only to find yourself emptying it into the garbage not an hour later, but the drastic and often unpredictable fluctuations in Homelander’s moods have made you reluctant to question or criticize him. 

Besides, what do you care if he eats your food? 

Caring is a creature with sharp teeth. It sinks its fangs into the deepest part of you and opens you up to deeper infection. Caring can hurt more than a punch, more than broken bones, more than anything that bleeds. Caring doesn’t break you clean. It’s a bone that doesn’t set, a cut that doesn’t close. Caring is to be vulnerable, to live as an open wound, and one thing you’re entirely certain of is that Homelander cannot be trusted with your vulnerability.

Yet you could not bring yourself to turn away from him. Not after he snapped at you, not after he screwed his eyes shut, not even as he began folding in on himself like a dying star readying to implode. Even though every primal instinct in you told you to run, your feet remained rooted.

You took him into your arms for the same reason you smother a flame rather than blow on it. In doing so, part of you has caught fire, embers continuing to burn.

The way he kissed you lingers on your lips like a ghost. His touches haunt every part of your tingling body, your fingertips numb with adrenaline as you pick up the containers from the coffee table. You can still feel the trail his hot mouth seared down your throat, branding your skin with the memory of his hunger.

He hadn’t embraced you so much as he’d clung to you, his hands testing every inch of the reality of you. He disappeared somewhere so deep in his own mind that it had shocked him stiff when you held him.

A panic attack…?

Strong hands settling on your hips break you out of your daze. Looking over your shoulder, you see Homelander’s smiling face. His eyes are bright and clear, his cheeks no longer streaked with tears. If you didn’t know better–know how easily and abruptly he can switch gears–you’d think you had hallucinated the entire thing.

“Oh, sorry,” you say, recognizing that expectant look on his face. Whatever he said, you didn’t hear it. “I was just thinking. What did you say?”

He huffs a little laugh. “Geeze, talk about a space cadet. C’mon, let’s get you airborne!”

Though your stomach flips, you nod.

I’ll take you flying again. You’ll be conscious this time around.

As soon as you have the containers of food safely tucked into a bag, he wastes no time scooping you up into his arms. The ease with which he lifts you is jarring; it’s less like being picked up by a person, and more like being strapped into a rollercoaster. There’s no sense of give in his strength, and all at once you’re shunted back to the memory of the night you were abducted.

It had felt the same way then, too. His arms coiled around you like steel, his chest a brick wall at your back. He’d held you then as gently as he holds you now. No matter how hard you thrashed, there was no give. 

No escape.

Your heart beats hard against your chest, apprehension tightening around your throat like a collar being pulled tight.

When will it stop feeling like this when he touches me?

The derangement of the thought strikes your addled mind belatedly. Never, you remind yourself. His touch should never evoke anything but the fear he’s earned 

A sudden rush of cool air from the door opening hits your face, the shift in pressure briefly paralyzing your lungs, halting your shallow breaths. You turn your face from it, nestling instead into the thick, textured fabric of his suit while you fight to catch your breath. 

Somewhere over the furious drumming of your heart, you hear him laugh, feel the rumble of his chest against your cheek.

He adjusts you higher up, bringing your face to the crook of his neck. You’re more secure in his grasp this way, and admittedly, you’re grateful for it. 

“Relax,” he purrs in your ear. “I won’t let you go.”

Yes, he’s made that abundantly clear.

In an effort to gain some modicum of control, you slip your fingers into the front of his suit collar, gripping the fabric tight. It’s stiffer than you expected it to be, but it at least serves as a good handhold that way. His pulse can be felt in his throat, the beat of it fluttering against the backs of your fingers. It’s quicker than you expected it to be.

You wonder what in the world he has to be nervous about.

“Just give me a warning before you take off, okay?” you ask, focusing on steadying your breathing.

“Before I take off?” 

There’s a particular playful lilt to his tone that makes you uneasy.

“Yes.”

“Hm. Can we pretend I did that thirty seconds ago?”

You rear back to look at him, and before you can think better of it, you turn to look down. Your vision tunnels, the edges of it blurring as your eyes fight to adjust to the sudden distance between you and the earth.

The reality of it sets in. It was one thing to understand his capacity for flight in theory, what it would be like to fly with him, but nothing could have prepared you for this. There’s nothing stabilizing you but him, the plummet below a nauseating hundred storey drop. Against your every wish, your stomach starts to churn violently. 

Tucking back against him, eyes screwed tightly shut, you mumble, “I’m gonna throw up.”

Homelander sucks in a breath through his teeth. “That’s really gonna ruin someone’s day down there.”

“Shhh’up,” you slur, white-knuckling his collar with one hand, the other clutching the bag of food to your chest. “I changed my mind, take me back, take me back. Can we please just take the elevator and drive? I really don’t want to–”

“Hey, hey, relax,” he coos, tilting backwards, bringing more of your weight against his body. The movement only makes you feel sicker. ”Closing your eyes only makes it worse. Y’gatta adjust.”

You shake your head and swear you can feel water sloshing back and forth in your skull. “Take me back, please take me back.”

Warm lips press against your forehead, his breath wafting over your scalp.

“It’ll pass,” he says with the certainty of experience. “It’s worth it. Trust me.”

Trust him? The audacity of the ask is enough to make you temporarily forget your peril and look up at him through narrowed glassy eyes. 

“Why in the world would I trust you?” you ask through your teeth, emboldened by your incredulity despite the way the tension in your body makes your muscles tremble faintly.

His grin doesn’t falter as he asks in turn, “What’s your alternative?”

Your lips part on an incredulous breath, disbelieving that he would be so blatant about it. 

In the three days you’ve spent with Homelander, there have been both ambiguous and unambiguous moments of cruelty. Moments where you were certain he was rubbing your captivity in your face, mocking you. 

Other times he seems so desperately lost you can almost understand the way he clings to you. Times where his cruelty comes not from an understanding of what will hurt you, but a complete inability to comprehend that you’re a living, breathing person with your own complicated innerworkings.  

“You’re unreal,” you say, mystified by the enigma he presents.

“And you’re flying,” he says in your same tone, those ocean blue eyes glinting with self-satisfaction.

You take in a breath to retort, but pause. Though your grip on his collar remains tight, you’re no longer shaking. For a moment there, you’d honestly forgotten where you were. Leaning against him like this, with more of your weight supported on his wrought iron frame, you don’t feel quite so much like you’re precariously dangling.

Though your heart is still racing, and your mouth's as dry as sand, you don’t feel immediately ready to eject your lunch anymore.

“Don’t look down this time,” he tells you, towards the horizon. “Look out.”

Hesitantly, you turn your head to follow his gaze.

The view is surreal.

The afternoon sky is a clear and vibrant blue that the maze of steel buildings below reflect, giving the entire city an oceanic hue. Hundreds upon hundreds of windows lit with warm lights dot the way like fireflies in a field.

In the distance, the sun has fallen low enough that it casts a golden glow across the water. It refracts the light in endless shimmering waves. The spectacle of it is enough to make you forget that this isn’t some fantastical world, that you live here.

Never could you have fathomed seeing the world like this with your own eyes.

“Fuck me,” you murmur, slightly dazed.

Homelander barks a laugh. “What, now?”

Ignoring him, you tentatively let your gaze drift lower. From this distance, all you can see of the lives below you are faint black dots, the flow of them reminiscent of an ant colony. The same loud bustling streets that you used to walk every day are silent from this vantage point, giving the city an uncharacteristic sense of calm. It’s the world–your world–as you’ve never seen it before. 

“See?” You feel the heat of the word against your temple as much as you hear it, his lips brushing along your hairline. “I told you it was worth it.”

You tear your attention from the cityscape and bring it back to Homelander.

While you’ve always distantly acknowledged that he’s attractive, he’s undeniably beautiful like this. Bathed in the glow of golden hour, his skin looks Midas touched, and the blue of his eyes is even more vibrant, the light giving them an almost crystalline appearance.

All over again you’re struck by the fact that, whether you want him or not, he’s inexplicably yours. Your captor, your roommate, your warden, your boyfriend, your gilded cage. You’re only where you are now–soaring above the city beyond the confines of that penthouse–because you found it in yourself to be all the things he wants you to be. The more you give, the more you get.

Play your part. Reap the reward.

This is survival.

“You were right. It’s beautiful,” you say, relinquishing your grip on his collar to instead slip your arm around his neck, leaning in to press your cheek to his in a make-shift embrace. You feel his surprise in the slight hitch of tension in his body before he relaxes back into you.

“Can I ask you something? Something about us. Or… about me, I guess,” you say, staring at the world from over his shoulder. Only now has your pulse begun to calm enough that you can properly hear yourself over the rush of your own blood.

His flag of a cape billows in the wind behind him as he flies languidly through the air, giving you something near to focus on. 

“Sure you can,” he says, feigning ease that doesn’t quite ring sincere.

He doesn’t like it when you ask too many questions, or start poking holes in the idyllic little fantasy you’ve been living for him.

“Why did you choose me?”

There’s a pause while he mulls over the question, the droning winds around you filling the empty space. Your stomach gives a small flip as he shifts, changing his flight path, making you wonder if you’ve made a mistake, said the wrong thing.

You draw back to meet his gaze, but his expression doesn’t betray any kind of upset.

“I’ll show you,” he says, the words punctuated by a wink, though the gesture doesn’t exude his usual self assured bravado. Based on the tension in his jaw, you get the sense he’s actually masking a buried nervousness.

Within minutes, you’re soaring over a part of the city you recognize with stark familiarity. Seeing your route to work from this angle has a surreal quality to it, like remembering a dream in vivid detail. It’s difficult to fathom that less than a week ago, this was your life.

Drifting to the ledge of a nearby building, he sits on the edge of it, adjusting you on his lap. While the height remains dizzying if you think too much about it, you can’t deny that the warm strength of his arms have given you a firm sense of security. 

“I used to come here a lot during my downtime. Between meetings and location work,” he explains, taking in a deep breath.

You do the same, cool air filling your lungs. It’s warm out, but the altitude brings in enough of a chill from the ocean to offset the late afternoon summer heat.

“I got familiar with this spot. The people, their routines,” he says, head lightly bobbing side to side.

“You saw me,” you fill in as understanding dawns.

“Yeah. I saw you,” he echoes, following the walkways below as if he’s tracing your path to work in the same way you are. “Every day.”

“You were really out here every day?” you ask with a lilt of surprise, looking at him. “I never saw you before.”

“People almost never do. You’d be surprised how rarely people ever look up.”

You hum quietly. Already you feel isolated from the world below. Nothing more than an observer. Knowing him as you do now, you can only imagine how outside of it all he really feels. 

“Do you ever… go down there? Not as Homelander, but just as yourself.”

“I am Homelander.”

“No, no, I know, but…” You falter, wanting to be delicate. “You were someone else first, weren’t you?”

His gaze turns distant, no longer focusing on the streets below.  “No.”

You think again of the young boy in the empty room holding back tears, and your heart grows heavy in your chest. That child–and the man he grew into–had to have had a name once, didn’t he? It’s unfathomable to think he didn’t. Homelander isn’t really a name. It’s a persona, a product patented and sold by Vought. 

To have a name is to exist in people’s minds and hearts as a whole person. Whether the name is a gift or a choice, there is soul in a name. More than just an identity, a name is a love language. Be it a given name, nicknames, pet names, to name something is to love it. 

Names begin in the heart, form on the tongue, become shaped by lips and cradled by voice. They're an intimacy not only of the body, but of the mind and soul.

Surely he has a name beyond the hero’s title of Homelander.

Project Odessa.

You take in a breath, the question poised on your tongue, but Homelander speaks first.

“I don’t remember when, but you started to stand out. Couldn’t take my eyes off you. I wanted to know more, so… I learned more. And I saw that you were lonely,” he says, but you’ve learned to read between the lines when he tells you things about yourself.

I was lonely.

“You needed someone.”

I needed someone.

“Someone to take care of.”

Someone to take care of me.

“I wanted to save you.”

I  wanted you to save me.

“And I did.”

He looks at you then, his expression difficult to parse. There’s a challenge in his gaze, as if he’s daring you to contradict him, but that defiance isn’t enough to cancel out the fragility that always seems to linger when he admits to any sort of genuine feeling.

“I saved you,” he reinforces, voice quieter, firmer.

Sitting hundreds of feet in the air, you’re reminded that this isn’t a normal conversation.

This is a matter of survival.

Play your part. Reap the reward.

“Thank you.”

The tight line of his lips relaxes, spreading into a smile. It radiates the same sort of satisfied pride that he always gets when you show him gratitude for all he’s done for you.

To me, you correct yourself, fighting to keep those lines from blurring. When you look at your life through his eyes, you cannot deny that it looks small. Inconsequential. Lonely. Sad.

None of that changes the fact that it was yours. That it is yours. That he had no right to take it from you when he had every opportunity to ask to be part of it.

The worst part is that, given the choice, you’re starting to feel like you would have said yes.

It’s a conflicted kind of relief when he closes his eyes and presses his lips lightly to yours. The heat of his mouth–the instant memory of his tongue, his teeth, his roaming hands–sends a hot rush through you, but unlike last time the kiss is fleeting and chaste.

“Aaaalrighty,” he says, his voice suddenly full of vigor and performative boom. It’s a wonder he doesn’t give himself a headache with how quickly he’s prone to switching gears. “Let’s get this grubhub goin’.” 

He pushes off of the ledge and your stomach lurches the way it would at the start of a rollercoaster, a drop followed by a sudden lift. Your arm tightens around his neck while his smile lingers, clearly pleased by the clinginess this has imposed on you.

You don’t have to tell him where to go. He knows exactly the alley to land in, sinking between buildings to the very back, as not to be observed by the bustling crowd below. You’d grown used to the noise of the crowds, but after several days of quiet, the clamor of New York is borderline deafening. It makes you wince and reflexively press on one ear, plugging it while you adjust.

Regardless of the noise, you feel an instant relief when your feet hit the ground. Homelander’s hands linger on your hip and your elbow, steadying you.

“Well?” he prompts. “You glad we flew?”

“Let’s not get carried away,” you say, huffing a quiet laugh. “I very much almost lost my lunch, but… yeah, I’ll admit it was worth it,” you say, checking on the containers of food packed away. 

You’d considered hiding some kind of message amidst the food, but it felt too risky. There was too good of a chance that Homelander would check, and if he did, you wouldn’t have made it this far at all.

For all you know, he did check. You’re still not certain if he really has x-ray vision, or if that’s an invention of Vought’s for the movies. Better safe than sorry.

Maybe you won’t need a hidden message. Maybe you’ll be able to get across to John, without saying a word, that something isn’t right.

“If you wait here, I’ll be–”

“What, I’m not allowed to meet your friends?” he interrupts, hands on his hips.

“Oh, uh.” You blink, holding his gaze uncertainly. “I didn’t… think you’d want to.”

Homelander waves his hand dismissively.

“If he’s important to you, he’s important to me,” he says, slipping an arm around your shoulder and squeezing lightly.

“Besides, next to children, the unhoused are our most vulnerable population,” he says, sounding entirely too much like a politician with a list of talking points. “Anything could happen to him. I can keep a close eye on him for you, make sure he doesn’t get into any unnecessary trouble.”

His smile is too wide, too wolfish, and with a terrible chill you understand the words for the threat that they are.

If John causes problems for him, Homelander will remedy them.

Am I making a mistake?

Swallowing thickly, you nod. “Okay… Sure.”

Despite how heavily Homelander’s words hang over your head, you very nearly take flight yourself with the swell relief that hits you when you see John sitting at the end corner of the alleyway, hands busy with a Rubik’s Cube. He’s an imposing looking man in his late thirties, bearded and tall, but he’s never made you feel unsafe. He’s kind, and most importantly, he’s familiar.

You take in a sharp breath of excitement, his name on the tip of your tongue, but a crimson leather clad hand clamps over your mouth and pulls you back into the shadow of the building. Homelander pins you back against him, one hand keeping you quiet while the other slips around your middle, locking you in place.

Did he change his mind, or was this all just a game from the start? Your wide eyes prickle with tears.

“Ground rules,” he says, voice low in your ear. “We’ve been together for a couple of weeks, but for your own safety, it’s been kept a secret. You quit your dead-end job and traveled to Europe with me, from which we’ve just recently returned. Got it?”

Huffing shallow little breaths from your nose, heart racing, you nod.

“If I see any funny business, I’ll break his neck.”

You close your eyes, every beat of your heart a painful jab. His voice has the same cool hollowness it did when he warned you not to lie to him. It’s him, and yet simultaneously sounds like an entirely different person.

“Nod if you understand.”

A beat, and then you nod.

“Good girl,” he says, his smile audible in his praise. His hand slips away from your mouth and he kisses your temple, straightening out your clothes. His arm slinks around your waist, hand settling heavily on your hip. “Now, let’s get this over with.”

Rattled, you rub the tears from your eyes and take in a steadying breath, trepidation replacing your excitement. Dread pools in your stomach, the tide of it rising with every step, but you still manage to smile once you’re in earshot of your friend.

“Hey, John,” you call gently, lifting a hand to wave when he meets your gaze.

John does a double take, glancing up once, then twice, recognition flipping to confusion, and then rounding back to delight. He smiles broadly from beneath his wiry beard, pushing off of the wall he’d been leaning against.

“I’ll be damned,” he says as he approaches you. “You had me worried! I was beginning to think y–” he stops himself, belatedly noticing Homelander at your side. His eyes widen a fraction, and then his brows furrow.

In his myriad of expressions, you recognize yourself. That first night you woke up, how confused you were by where you were and who you were with. The whole thing felt like a dream, and John looks as though he’s wondering if this is one, too.

As a New Yorker, seeing Homelander–or any member of the Seven–in the flesh typically means one of two things: you’ve stumbled onto a promotional event, or trouble is close at hand. 

“Is everything alright?” he settles on asking, the priority of his concern for you instantly warming your chattering heart.

“More than alright,” Homelander answers when you take too long, flashing a winning smile. He gives your hip a squeeze, prompting you.

You clear your throat, lifting the bag off of your shoulder. “Yeah, yeah, yes, I’ve just–I’ve been away,” you say, already tripping over the lies catching in your throat. 

If I see any funny business, I’ll break his neck.

Thanks to you, John’s life rides on this conversation, and he has no clue. You kick yourself internally, desperate to get your shit together for both your sakes. 

“It was really impromptu, but, uhm, I didn’t want you to worry, and I have news, so I–” you flash Homelander a look, as if to say let me sell this, and he reluctantly withdraws his arm. “I asked Homelander if he’d come along, because I honestly didn’t think you’d believe me,” you say, forcing out a little laugh.

John hesitantly takes the bag when you offer it, but he’s looking at you like you’ve grown a second head, his eyes occasionally darting over to Homelander, who continues to stand akimbo behind you. “Believe you…?”

“That I’m dating Homelander,” you say, pulling your lips back in what you can only hope is a convincing smile, and not just a manic show of teeth.

“Oh,” he says, looking no less puzzled.

The whole situation is bizarre beyond words. That you would come to him, an acquaintance that you’ve known only through habit, through the quick conversations you’ve had in the transitional spaces between work and home, seems insane. That you would care that he knows or that he believes you’re dating New York’s premium hero.

Of course he won’t see that you’re a hostage. Why the hell would he? 

You feel out of your mind the same way you did sitting on that stupid couch, punching in website after website after website. It’s futile. You’re outside, you’re right in front of another person, someone who would be just as horrified as you are to know the truth, and yet you can’t say a damn thing.

This will always be true. Whether you’re standing in front of a stranger, an acquaintance, or your dearest loved ones, your truth will put them in danger.

All because of one lonely little boy.

Your smile holds firm, but your eyes well with tears.

“I quit my job,” you say, fighting back the sob threatening to choke you. “So I won’t see you anymore. But I, uhm–I just wanted to say goodbye. So, goodbye,” you say, moving to turn away before your emotions betray you any further, but John catches you by the shoulder, his touch light and painfully human. 

“Hey, you take care of yourself,” he says, looking to be shaking off the shellshock from what you’ve presented. “Y’always seem to be taking care of other people and their problems, so… Take care of you, too. If not for yourself, you’ll do that for me, yeah? For old time’s sake,” he says with a smile, giving the bag a little shake.

You stare at him, the confession of it all sitting heavily on the tip of your tongue. 

Help me! you want to shout. I can’t do this alone. I can’t take care of this myself. I need help. It’s too much. I’m scared.

You start to move towards him, and his opposite arm opens, as if ready to embrace you.

“Lucky for her,” Homelander interrupts, hoisting you suddenly into his arms and out of John’s reach, shattering any potential illusions. “She’s got me to take care of her now,” he says, his Hollywood smile stretched instead into a thin sneer.

“Great to meet’cha, pal,” he spits, voice devoid of any actual camaraderie. Tears burn in your eyes as his fingertips dig into you, his grip like a vice, like chains slipping back around your limbs. “Enjoy the food.”

Anything John might have said in response is swallowed up by the rush of air parting around him as Homelander shoots up into the sky, leaving your world in the dust, and any hope you had with it.

The flight back to the penthouse is quiet.

Homelander flies faster than he did on the way out, itching to be back within the safe, predictable confines of home. You’re tense in his hold, but both of your arms are wrapped around his neck, your face tucked in under his jaw, and he takes pleasure in that, at least.

It’s a miracle he didn’t rip that filthy fuckers arm off for the way he grabbed you, for the way he tried to pull you into his arms.

God damn pervert is what he is. 

You’re too naive to see it, but he isn’t, and there wasn’t a fucking chance he was going to let the guy cop one last feel before you were spirited away for good. The thought alone is enough to set his teeth on edge, to make him consider paying the son of a bitch a little visit anyways.

He grits his teeth.

No one touches his things.

It sets off something primal in him. A gnawing, feverish compulsion to claim you so thoroughly there could be no doubt that you’re his. He wants to fuck you, to mark you so obviously that no other man will ever touch you like that again.

By the time he lands on the concrete slab of his balcony, you’re shaking up a storm. He maneuvers inside without putting you down, as you’ve made no move to let go of him. 

Something isn’t right. 

He rubs your back, mimicking the patterns you make when you rub his, pausing when you suddenly make a choked noise that sounds suspiciously close to a sob.

What the hell? He did exactly what you asked him to. You’re supposed to be happy.

He carries you to his bed, a dozen versions of the two of you reflected back in the surrounding mirrors, and sets you down gently. Your arms slide loose from his neck and fall limply to your sides. Bending down, he cups either side of your face and brings your gaze up to meet his, perplexed to find your eyes brimming with tears.

“Hey,” he says softly, swiping a tear from your cheek with his thumb as it falls. “You got what you wanted, didn’t you?”

You shut your eyes and make a sound he can’t make sense of, something between exasperation and agony. Though you try to pull out of his grip, he holds you in place, refusing to let you run from this. 

From him.

“No, no. Look at me. I did what you asked,” he says, impatience slowly wringing the gentleness from his voice.

Your eyes are red and glassy, fat tears rolling down your cheeks and over his thumbs. 

Christ. 

This is a far cry from what he had in mind when he thought earlier about how you’d make it up to him.

“I can’t do this anymore,” you sob, taking hold of his wrists. “I just want to go home.”

His expression falls, brows furrowed in confusion, dismay, anger.

“What’re you talking about? You are home. You’re happy here. You have everything, you–I’ve given you everything,” he says, though a voice in the back of his mind reminds him that isn’t true. 

He hasn’t given everything. Not yet. He’s been holding back. You both have, and now you’re both suffering.

Enough, he thinks. Hasn't he been deprived long enough?

Haven't you?

You try again to pull away, but this time he pulls you forward, pressing his lips to yours. You make a sound against his mouth that sounds like surprise, but all that matters now is the thrum of your skin against his.

“Doesn’t have to be like this,” he says between kisses, following you as you pull backwards, his knee hitting the bed as he crawls over top of you. He lets his hands roam, learning you in the way he’s been aching to since the day he decided that you would be his, and that he would be yours. 

“You have no idea how fucking good I can make you feel.”

Pleasure has always been his greatest comfort. The ability to shut down his brain, to quiet the voices and focus solely on the physical. He needs it, and now more than ever, he can see that you need it, too. 

He kisses your jaw, your cheek, kisses the wet streaks from your skin and licks the salt of them from his lips.

“I can make it go away,” he murmurs, undeterred by your hands pushing against his chest. You have a nasty habit of fighting what’s good for you. 

“I’ll make you happy if you’d just let me.”

Your clothes put up less resistance than you do, the designer material tearing with ease. He swallows up your gasp with another kiss, slips his tongue into your mouth and grazes your teeth with it, daring you to bite.

Your pulse thunders in his ears, but not even the acridity of the fear coursing through you can hide the sweet heat of arousal seeping from between your thighs.

His own body aches in kind, cock throbbing needily behind his cup. His mind has already started to fog, the sting of rejection soothed by the need he can feel building in every part of your body. 

You want him. You do. He can feel it in the drumming of every climbing throb he hears your body give.

“All this teasing, this tension, it can all end. We’re so close to what we both want now, what we both need.” His hand slips lower, forcing your legs apart enough to drag his middle finger over your cunt through the satiny fabric of your panties, savoring the way it makes you shudder.

“I don’t want this,” you say, hardly sounding convinced of it yourself.

“You can lie to yourself all you want, but you can’t lie to me, ” he says, taking his hand away only to bite the tip of his middle finger, tugging his glove off with his teeth and tossing it aside. He moves it right back to your pussy, pressing in firmly to finally feel the hot, soaked patch of fabric against his bare skin. 

“Look who’s all wet.”

“Why are you doing this?” There’s a tremble running through your voice, through your body.

He huffs an incredulous little breath.

“I’m doing this for you. For us. I’m doing this because you don’t know how to let yourself be happy,” he says, drawing back to look at you. You’re beautiful like this. Eyes glassy and vibrant, skin hot under his touch. “All you have to do is let go, and I’ll make all the bad stuff go away.”

You don’t respond, but he knows by the look of you that he’s struck a chord. He kisses you again, and this time, you don’t try to turn away. Instead, both of your hands slip into his hair, and to his elation, you kiss him back.

He moans against your lips, shifting onto his side next to you so that he can better maneuver his hand, bringing his fingers up to slip them into your underwear, letting out a low sound for the feel of your velvety wet cunt under his bare fingers.

“Keep breathing,” he reminds you, acutely attuned to every inch of you, including when your breath catches. “That’s it… Good girl.”

The last thing he needs now is for you to pass out.

He kisses a trail down from your shoulder to your chest, nipping at the swell of your breasts before he kisses an apology into the soft skin, only to suck a mark at that same spot. He spreads your own slick from your cunt to your clit, massaging it between his middle and index finger.

You suck in a ragged breath, you whimper, and in that sound he knows he finally has you hook, line and sinker.

That’s when you catch sight of yourself in the mirror above. You shudder, turning your head away as if ashamed, but he won’t let you hide from this.

“Ah, ah, none of that. No shame in this. It’s a tale as old as time, sweetheart,” he says, pressing his middle finger slowly into the silky clench of your pussy. 

“Boy meets girl… Girl falls for boy… Boy fucks her brains out,” he half laughs, half rasps, hooking his leg over yours both to pull your legs wider apart, and to give himself your thigh to grind against.

He angles his thumb to rub your clit while his finger crooks, stroking inside you until he finds that delicate, puffy little bundle of nerves he’s been taught to look for. More than just by the feel of it, he knows he’s found it when your hips jerk suddenly, and you look at him as though he’s just invented the spot.

“I told you,”  he rumbles, kissing you slow, wet, hungry, “that I would make you feel good.”

He adds another finger, fucking you with them slowly, his pace building gradually. He imagines how it’ll feel to have his cock where his fingers are, and he nearly comes in his pants at the thought alone, his hips jerking against you.

“Look at yourself,” he sighs, his other hand cupping the back of your neck. “Look at yourself,” he says again, harsher this time, and your eyes snap up to the mirror above you.

You’re a mess, clothes torn apart and splayed under and around you, hickeys forming where he’s abused your skin with his lips. You’re fucking yourself down on his hand entirely of your own accord now, one hand fisted in his hair, the other in the sheets. Your tears have dried and there’s only sweet, mindless pleasure left in your eyes.

He’s never known a pain he couldn’t fuck away. He knew you’d be the same.

“So fucking perfect for me,” he coos, breath hitching on his own mounting pleasure. Your pussy squeezes his fingers, the lewd cacophony of pleasure filling the room the closer you get to the brink.

“Homelander,” you keen, voice fractured and sweet as sugar. 

He kisses his name from your lips, licks up the honied taste of it while he fucks you deeper, faster, his pace never once faltering, not even as you begin to thrash against him. He can’t tell if you’re trying to get closer or further, but he holds you tightly in place, gritting his teeth against the pleasure while he shamelessly humps your leg.

Your shallow breaths take on a pitchy sound as you writhe, as if part of you is still fighting him, fighting your pleasure, but in the end, it’s a battle you lose. Your cunt locks up like a vice around his fingers, your orgasm throbbing inside and out, your clit fluttering against his thumb.

You’re robbed of breath, of sound, and of sense as you come, capable of nothing more than a silent cry as pleasure–the pleasure he gave you–wracks your body.

He fucks you through it, relishing the way your quivering cunt squeezes his fingers, greedily pulling him back in on every thrust. It’s too much–you’re too much–and he loses himself to it, giving a ragged gasp as he comes shortly after. His eyes roll back, pulse after pulse of sweet pleasure filling his cup with liquid heat.

“I love you,” he gasps, nearly choking on the words, rocking against your still-trembling form. “I–fffuck, I love you, I love you so much.”

He’s languid but no less ravenous in the way he kisses your chest, your throat, your jaw, your mouth, all while his fingers rock lazily in and out of your cunt. Still coming down from his own high, he doesn’t stop until you’re grabbing his wrist and pushing his hand away, pleading your overstimulation with nothing but soft noises. 

He licks his fingers clean, intoxicated by the feel, taste and smell of you. A shiver runs through you, and it’s only then that he realizes he forgot to shut the balcony door behind him.

Too enraptured to move, to risk breaking the spell your bodies have cast over one another, he drapes his cape over your naked body, tucking you in against his chest.

Satisfied that he’s made his point, that you finally understand the gift he’s wanted to give you all along, he wraps both arms around you and nuzzles against the top of your head, pressing a kiss to the crown.

While ending your first tryst sticky and wet in his pants wasn't his ideal scenario, he'll take it. The weight of you in his arms, the taste of you on his lips, more than makes up for it.

“That’s it,” he murmurs, the words slurring together slightly. He strokes your back, holding you close as the tremors subside. He gladly takes credit for the way your breaths even out, for the way you sink into his arms, the resistance wrung from your muscles. 

All that’s left now is bliss. 

“That’s my girl.” And you are, without a shadow of a doubt, his.

[strangersteddierthings]

"Whatever you say, King Steve."

It's the way Eddie says it, full of sarcasm but laced with an undertone of something that causes Steve to flinch and take several steps back. It's definitely an overreaction. Steve knows it's an overreaction because Eddie hasn't even said anything mean and they aren't even fighting. Eddie's just teasing him, like he always does, yet Steve's body has entered flight or fight mode and he feels gut-punched. He'd rather that Eddie would have punched him in the gut. "Don't. Don't do that."

Eddie's entire body language shifts. He changes from playful to concerned in seconds. "Do what?"

"Call me that. King Steve. Or-or some variation of my high school reputation. 'The Hair' or when you say Steve fucking Harrington like I'm some- some- some thing and not just Steve."

"You are anything but Just Steve, my liege," Eddie chuckles, taking a step closer.

"Stop!"

That does bring Eddie to a stop. Steve doesn't yell. He's not a yeller. Voice raiser? Sure. But there's a difference between raising your voice and yelling, and Eddie's just found out how the difference sounds with Steve.

"I- it's like everyone does that! Talks about me like I'm not- like I'm some unachievable thing. Like I've got a title or some shit and it's just so- It makes me feel-" Steve cuts himself off, unable to find the words he's searching for.

"You really don't get it," Eddie says, voice soft, placating almost. "How we see you? You're like, the kid's idol, you know? A monster fighting god or some shit. How can we not speak of you reverently?"

Steve doesn't know what reverently means but he hates it anyway, because it makes him feel- "It makes me feel othered. Singled out. Like you've all placed me on a pedestal I never wanted." That's the crux of it, he realizes. Having said it out loud, he gets why he hates it. His house is a museum more than a home, and it's filled with expensive, pretty things on pedestals of their own that are only for looking at but not touching. Not loving.

"Shit man, you've built that pedestal with your own actions. I think you deserve to be on it."

He's not getting it. Eddie isn't understanding what he's trying to say, and Steve doesn't know what words to use to get his point across. He knows, he understands, that Eddie is trying to compliment him. Trying to make him feel good or whatever, but the pedestal doesn't feel good. "No. You don't get it. I don't want the pedestal."

"Then, what do you want?"

"I don't want to be on the pedestal. I want to be on ground level with you all. I- On the pedestal I'm not- It's like I'm out of reach or something and I'm not. I don't want to be," Steve runs a hand through his hair, then tugs at it, frustrated that the words he needs won't come. How can he explain this? Defeated, he says in a small voice, "I don't want to be out of reach."

Eddie closes the distance between them and raises a hand cup Steve's cheek. He shoves his face further into Eddie's touch.

"I'm sorry," Eddie says, "I'm sorry I made you feel like I wouldn't reach for you. You deserve the pedestal, sweetheart. I'd climb any height to hold you, you know?"

Steve shakes his head because he didn't know. He had no idea that Eddie would reach for him when no one but Robin had ever really tried. (And even then, being tortured by Russians together did put them on an even playing field at the time.) "I don't want to be just another thing people look up to."

The hand on his face slides to the back of his head and Eddie pulls him into a hug, smooshing his face into Eddie's neck but that's fine. Steve doesn't mind it at all.

Then Eddie holds him in a hug and doesn't let go until Steve's the one to pull back.

[wannaeatramyeon]

The Crew Heads with Reader: Gacha

G/N. Silly. (Jake Kim, Eli Jang, Johan Seong, Samuel Seo)

Bro Code | Dinner | Shopping | Television | Gacha | Board Games | Suits

Honestly, this is a coordinated attack. It's unfair. You're cornered and outnumbered.

"You're rotting your brain," Johan glances over your shoulder to watch the silly mobile game you're playing on.

A terribly addictive combination of gacha and otome.

Eli gives you a look, as if to say 'Yenna would never'.

Well. You want to argue that Yenna couldn't anyway, because she doesn't understand the concept of phones or video games yet. She can't even read. So no. She can't play this very sophisticated, non fan-servicey-at-all game. But then you catch yourself and think maybe they have a point if you're about to argue why a baby couldn't play.

"I'm cutting you off," Samuel chimes in, frowning at his own phone.

"Sammy!" You gasp, eyes snapping to him and jaw dropping that he would be so cruel.

He scrolls and scrolls, his online bank statement reflected in his glasses and muttering, "How the fuck did you spend this much..."

Johan shuffles over, curious that even Samuel would be shocked.

Usually, they're at each other's throats. Johan normally never willing to get that close to Samuel of his own free will and Samuel would push him away anyway if he tried. However, your apparent frivolous gaming habit has united them.

Shame starts to creep in. Surely it can't have been that much could it. Sammy offered. It's not like he couldn't afford it. He constantly buys you much more expensive things-

Johan's eyes widen comically large. His gaze flickers over to you in judgement before continuing to watch Samuel scrolling.

-And the shame comes crashing down.

You're almost pushed over the edge when Eli flanks Samuel’s other side, wearing a matching expression as he observes your many many gaming transactions. Then in dad mode, he looks at you with disappointment and gives you an exasperated shake of the head.

(You're certain Yenna has been on the receiving end of that treatment.)

"I've cancelled everything. Unlinked it." Samuel confirms. "I don't mind spoiling you Y/N but this is ridiculous." Johan and Eli nod in agreement as you feel equal petulance and guilt.

"Shit!" Jake's voice drifts over from the other room, then you hear the creak of mattress springs and rushed steps.

He appears in the doorway, holding up his phone. An unfinished transaction on your gaming buddy's screen.

"Did Sammy cut us off?!"

"I'm also paying for YOU?!"

Damn. Jake winces and physically recoils. He didn't mean to let the cat out the bag, didn't mean to take advantage of Sammy in the first place but then he got so close to the SSS+ pull and levelling up and he just needed a couple more chances-

Oops.

In slow motion, everyone turns to Samuel. Sees his face turning pink then red then crimson. Eyes narrowed and mouth pressed into a thin line. A split second later, he lunges.

"Sammy, no!" You screech as Eli and Johan look on in amusement.

Jake weaves, narrowly dodges his punch. "I'll pay you back!"

"WITH WHAT, YOU BROKE BASTARD-"

[damiansgoodgirll]

decided to put this four requests together as they were kinda similar and i had an interesting idea! hope you don’t mind!

damian priest x reader / rhea ripley x reader (platonic) / the judgment day x reader (platonic) / jey uso x sister reader

likes, comments and reblogs are always appreciated!

‼️ brief mention of panic attack, typical wwe violence, angsty and some feels

i’ll look after you

you were currently stressing backstage because your brother had an important match later that night and he wanted you there to support him. it was probably the only monday off of raw that you had and yet, your older brother insisted that you were there for him.

but now you were completely paralysed in front of the small tv screen in your locker room as you saw your best friend rhea and your crush damian priest getting destroyed by the new judgment day.

it was okay until the five of them attacked rhea’s injured leg and damian tried to shield her with his bigger body.

“oh my…” your brain went in autopilot mode. you had to do something. you ran out of the room, ignoring your brother’s calls and sprinted towards the arena.

everyone cheered when they saw you, making the judgment day stop their actions. even if you wanted, you knew that you wouldn’t have been able to stop them. it was you against all of them. that’s when liv got out of the ring and faced you. you had a dark smirk on your face that made liv shiver and before dom or anyone else could do something to stop you, you grabbed her hair a shoved her against the metallic stairs, making her yelp in pain.

dom saw that and while finn and the rest of the team continued their beating on damian, liv was crying on the ground, making dom shove you to the side so he could help her out.

jey saw everything from his changing room. and when he saw dom putting his hands on you, he couldn’t stay there and watch, he knew he had to do something. so he grabbed the first chair he could find and he run towards the ring, making everyone stop their actions on damian.

when the group left, smirking as if they won, you joined your brother inside the ring. you saw him holding rhea’s hand, comforting her and whispering soft words as she was in very much pain. your attention went to damian, who was clearly in pain too.

“hey…” you knelt down next to him “you’re okay…i promise you” you took his face into your hands and gently caressed his cheeks “i’m here…we’re gonna help you…”

“y/n…” damian’s broken voice called you “you shouldn’t have put your health at risk for us”

“i wanted to…” damian looked into your eyes as you said those words, seeing how genuine you were being.

“you’re crazy hermosa…” he whispered, making you chuckle a little. with his face still in your hands, damian took that as an opportunity and gently kissed your hands “thank you…this mean so much to me”

“you don’t have to thank me…” you smiled “we are gonna help you…”

and so, while jey was helping rhea, you were trying to keep damian on his feet, aiding him towards the backstage. his hand on your hip made you shiver but that was no time nor place to think about the effect that damian had on you.

you both let them sat while medical staff checked on them.

“what took you so long!” you whispered to your brother, slightly punching him in the stomach.

“woah! calm down sis! i don’t know…i wasn’t thinking when everything happened” he whispered back.

“your girl is getting beaten by five people and you weren’t thinking?”

“she’s not my girl…” he pouted, making you smile.

“yeah sure…” you smirked.

a couple of minutes later, medical staff told you that there were two ambulances waiting for them outside and that you could go with them if you wanted to.

jey wanted to but he had a match later that night so he told that he would have gone after the show, implying that you were free and would have gone with rhea and damian.

you nodded at the medical staff and they let you in the ambulance with damian. rhea was half unconscious and in much more distress that you didn’t want to bother her, knowing that doctors needed to work on her during the ride at the hospital. damian was sat on the stretcher, still in pain but not as bad as rhea was, even if he took more hits than her this time.

you sat next to him as nurses were working on him.

“we have to cut your shirt off sir” one of the nurses told damian. he simply nodded, letting them doing their jobs.

you tried to look away as damian was sitting half naked next to you. he saw how much you blushed and if it wasn’t for the extreme pain he was in, he would have definitely teased you.

he slightly jumped when one of the nurses touched his red and bruised shoulder “we should help you laying down” she said, making the stretcher more comfortable for damian.

as he laid down, he softly took his hand out, sign that he wanted you to hold him. with a soft look in your eyes, you delicately held his hand, whispering soft words to him.

“you’re okay damian…i’m gonna be here all week if needed to” you said chuckling a little “i’m here for you, always”

“thank you…this means so much for me” he whispered back.

once you arrived at the hospital, both ambulances took rhea and damian in emergency care, leaving you behind. the doctors who took care of them told you that you hat to wait outside for further news but your anxiety wasn’t helping. between not knowing how your brother was doing on his match and having your best friend and biggest crush both under observation, all this stress was taking a big toll on you.

you paced around the waiting room for what it felt like hours. people looking at you, some of them understood your position, others were just giving you weird looks.

you needed to have news about damian and rhea as soon as possible or you were going crazy.

a kind nurse offered you a cup of tea and she helped you sat down in one of the empty chairs in the room. she gave you an understanding nod before going back into emergency.

maybe she was right, you needed to calm yourself. but opening twitter wasn’t helping as all you were seeing on your feed were pictures of rhea and jey as they were holding hands and pictures of you and damian sharing sweet and loving looks.

reading the comments, you agreed with the people who said that rhea and jey were a cute couple. but it felt weird to you that people liked you and damian together too. you knew how his fans were protective of him, especially the girlies who never liked seeing him with friends. you were taken aback from those nice comments towards you.

the tea the nurse gave you helped you relax a little as you close your phone and let your eyes rest for a little. unconsciously you fell asleep, too tired of the events of the night.

a comforting hand gently woke you up, touching your shoulder “hey wake up sis…” your big brother jey softly whispered at you as he was sat next to you.

you yawned a little, opening your eyes “jey…”

“you tired?” he asked and you nodded.

“what time is it? it gotta be pretty late if you are already here..”

jey nodded at you “yeah, i finished the match and went straight here”

the match - you thought. the only reason you were at the arena on your monday off “how did it go? i’m so sorry i fell asleep, i wanted to watch it”

“i won” he said with the biggest grin on his face, almost making you jump in your seat.

“no way! i’m so proud of you! you deserve this! now go get your championship!” you whispered try not to scream as it was pretty late and there were other people around you. your little moment of happiness made him smile.

“ma’am?” one of the doctors that had rhea and damian under observation called you, making you and your brother turn your heads “both miss ripley and mister priest are okay” those words brought you and jey a sigh of relief “they are under medication at the moment but you are both free to see them if you want” you nodded and let the doctor show you rhea and damian’s rooms.

you softly opened his hospital room and you saw him sleeping so you didn’t want to wake him up. you tried to be as more silent as possible as you closed the door and took the seat next to his bed.

about ten minutes later damian tiredly opened his eyes, meeting yours “y/n…”

“hey…” you smiled at him “go back to sleep, the doctor said that you need to rest”

“i wanted to thank you” his raspy voice said “for everything you did today, for me and rhea…”

“shhh…you don’t need to do this and you don’t need to do this now” you moved closer to his bed so now you could grab his hands into yours. he looked at you with such tenderness in his eyes that you felt emotional for a second.

“but it’s true…” his voice raspy but soft.

“damian…go back to sleep”

“i will” he laughed “i’m so tired…remind me to thank your bother too”

“he’s with rhea now” you smiled.

“yeah…they would look good together” he had this tired look on his face that made him look even hotter than he was.

“yeah” you agreed with him.

“i feel like we would look good together too” he said, closing his eyes and smiling at you.

you were taken aback from his words, knowing that it probably was the medication speaking but before you could doubt yourself he spoke again “i’m serious y/n…the way you’re always so kind and supportive with me and rhea…the way you came to me first tonight in the ring…thank you”

you unconsciously smiled at his words “we should talk about this once you’re fully conscious”

“oh we will” he chuckled keeping his eyes closed “i think i love you y/n”

you were lucky he had his eyes closed otherwise he would have bursted out laughing at your speechless face.

“i’m serious…” he yawned “the conversation isn’t over”

“okay…” you whispered kissing his hands again “i’ll be here when you wake up, i’ll look after you damian…”

you kept your promise and waited till he was fully recovered. jey checked on him too and he had the biggest smile on his face when you told him about what damian confessed. he was definitely rooting for you two.

[mwolf0epsilon]

Welp! I found a new Henry related detail to despair over!

I was having a look through some behind the scenes stuff and model series episode galleries to get a clearer picture of the designs and scales of certain engines, when a trip through the gallery of 'The Sad Story of Henry' gave me some pause...

I was looking at the original model series rendition because it has some of the best surly looking expressions for Henry (accentuated by the obviously aggravated steam clouds), when I noticed that the two CGI remakes of this particular event were right under the originals.

I didn't really give this much thought until I recognized one of the images as also being in the firemen listings (which I'd been perusing previously to get a vague idea of what Sidney Hever looked like, so that I could draw him with a mode distinct design rather than all Drivers and Firemen looking the same like in the shows).

According to the wiki this is Ted, Henry's fireman. He was the one tying a rope to Henry so that people could attempt to pull him out of the tunnel.

And at first I thought: "Oh that's cool! It seems that in terms of crew, while Thomas interacts more with his driver (Bob), and Edward with both his driver and fireman (Charlie Sand and Sidney Hever), it looks like Henry's fireman is the one who interacts with him most (which makes sense, he gets more characterization than Henry's driver and is even the one to realize what Henry's actual issue is and even pleads with the Fat Controller to get special coal to make things easier on him)."

Just a cool neat little detail right? Right? Here's where I realized something was off about this scene:

@british-hero offered to look at this one scene with me so we could have a closer look... Which is when we both realized Ted looks... A little uncomfortable. He looks like he's smiling at a glance, but it's tight and clearly not a happy smile.

And then when he's done tying the rope...

It's a blink and you'll miss it thing, but he's clearly not in agreement with this plan. He doesn't give a thumbs up to signal they're ready to go, or even call out that they can start pulling. Ted looks apprehensive about forcing Henry out of the tunnel...

That's the face of a man who knows doing this will just make Henry double-down on his decision to stay put, but no one is listening to him.

And this is just the recreation in 'The Adventure Begins'. There is yet another recreation of these events, this time retold by Henry himself... And surely enough Ted features in it again. But the way he appears left Rogue and I gutted...

Right at the right, at the very edge of the bloom effect, you can see Ted standing there looking concerned as he watches the workmen wall in Henry...

He's not helping them at all. He's stock still looking at Henry. Which is followed then by this:

HE CLIMBED OVER THE WALL TO COMFORT HENRY, OH MY GOD... He is literally refusing to take part in walling him in. He's just there to comfort his engine...

Again, I remind you, this is Henry telling the tale instead of Edward. Henry vividly remembers this happening. He remembers his fireman being there for him. And if that wasn't a gut punch already, when the scene begins to fade Ted looks down sadly...

I am unwell...

[lou-struck]

The Apple of My Pie

Kenma Kozume x reader

Flufftober Day 13~ Apple Pie

W.C. 1.2k

~These long days of streaming can drive Kenma crazy, so much so he swears he can smell something delicious coming from the kitchen.

A few years ago, Kenma Kozume would've never considered himself a workaholic.

Unnecessary effort for mundane tasks was seemingly pointless. Why work hard on something that doesn't matter to you?"

He had this train of thought until he met you, and everything changed. He started to dream of a future with you. And he realized that In order to make that dream come true he has to do more than just the bare minimum.

~

Hey Hey Hey, it's my birthday. It would mean the world to me if you gave me a shout-out. 

What console is he playing this on?

Follow 4 follow anyone?????

What texture pack are U using? Ur game looks different than mine?

The chat in his stream seems to move faster than his avatar as he plays through one of his favorite games. His eyes are dry and irritated from staring at the screen for hours, but he keeps pushing himself. It may only be October now, but he really wants to earn enough to take you on your dream vacation in the new year. 

His desk is littered with water bottles but he can't seem to remember the last time he has eaten. Was it breakfast?

Maybe…

Glancing over at the clock, he wonders what time you will get home from work today. Usually, when you come home, you poke your head into his office, and he will wrap up his stream to spend some time with you.

When you left the house this morning, you had that cute look on your face that you get when you are trying to hide something, but he still cannot figure out what it was that you were hiding. 

His brain goes on autopilot as he runs through the map, killing enemies and looting chests as he tries to figure out the little mystery. 

Did you plan a date night?

…

That could be it.

A soft smile tugs at his lips as he wonders if he should beat you to the punch and take you out tonight for dinner. Or better yet, maybe he should order some takeout from the place you like and have a night in.

He starts to reach for his phone to check your location when something sweet, something nostalgic, wafts under his nose. He inhales deeply, but then he remembers that his automatic air freshener broke last week and starts to worry.

Sometimes, when he spends the day streaming and working, he can forget things, like if he lit one of those sweet-smelling fall candles you bought for the house earlier when he went to grab an energy drink from the fridge.

Shit…

Suddenly, his screen bleeds red, and he realizes that in his state of distraction, his avatar died, much to the surprise of all of his viewers. 

"Ummmm, okay, guys, I think I need to call it quits after that one," he says into the camera. Signing off with his usual quiet demeanor, his fans can't seem to get enough of it. As his blinking camera light goes dark, he pushes out his gaming chair and slides across the wooden floor in his socks as he tries to find the source of the smell. 

The kitchen light illuminates the stairway, casting his shadow along the portrait-speckled walls, and to his relief, he spots a familiar-looking set of car keys on the corner of the hallway table and immediately feels at ease. 

The sound of you shuffling through the kitchen brings a smile to your face as he walks toward you and the warm, sweet smell that only gets stronger with each step he takes. Now out of panic mode, Kenma allows his eyes to readjust from the dark, blue light of his office to the warm, cozy lights of the kitchen. 

He reaches the bottom of the steps and walks into the kitchen entryway, where you are hunched over the sink washing a large silver mixing bowl. The countertop looks almost shiny as if it is still wet from being cleaned, but on the corner of the island sits a few containers of spices, just waiting to be put away. He can't make out the labels from the doorway, but he is pretty sure he at least sees some cinnamon. 

"It smells good in here," he murmurs, grabbing your attention; your head snaps toward the sound in surprise, but calm down when you see it's just him.

"Ken, I thought you were streaming still." you breathe, quickly setting the now clean bowl onto the drying rack. "How long have you been standing there?"

"I was," he says. Doing little to hide his satisfaction of seeing you trying to adorably look nonchalant. "But I started too early and needed a break, so not long."

"I see," you say, your gaze nervously darting every which way except… He turns his head towards the window sill and sees his all-time favorite dessert, a freshly baked, still steaming apple pie, cooling in the chilly fall air. 

"Damn, you caught me," you tell him, wrapping your arms around his stiff midsection; he really needs to get a better chair in his office. "I wanted it to be a surprise."

"I am surprised," he says, starting to walk toward the window, taking you, who is still holding onto him with him. His keen, catlike eyes scan the dessert, and it looks amazing. The crust is golden and unbelievably flaky, and the lattice looks like it just walked off the set of one of those cooking shows his mom used to watch all the time. 

You must've worked really hard on this…

"The pie looks amazing," he says, hypnotized by its beauty. 

"It's better," you laugh, regarding your masterpiece with a critical gaze. "It took me forever to make it. I got home a few hours ago and tried to be as quiet as I could. I had wanted to bring you a slice when you got done streaming, but making the filling took way longer than I thought."

His heart swells as he is touched by the care that you put into this surprise, but he turns away from it. The pie may be a masterpiece, but you are far more important. To this day, Kenma doesn't know how he ended up with an S-rank partner like you, but he is too afraid to ask in case you one day wake up and realize that you could be with someone a hundred times better than him…

"So, do you really like it?" you ask softly, your expression tender.

"I love it y/n, seriously. You are amazing." He gently cups your cheek and wipes away a little streak of flour from your warm skin. "I love you so much."

"I love you too, you say, your eyes shining, and he can see his lovesick, adoring reflection staring back at him.

He kisses you and tastes something sweeter than apples on your lips. He may not be the smoothest guy in the world, but he knows you and doesn't pull back until you are weak in the knees. 

His lips are just centimeters from yours when he asks if he could have a piece. 

Tagging: @pixelcafe-network @ambiguouslady42

[help-itrappedmyself]

Danny Punches a Clown part 9

masterpost

Danny is led up an unnecessarily long flight of stairs into a fancy house. The floors are all hardwood with rugs interspersed throughout the rooms.

     Hood starts leading him down the hallway and he can see paintings and antiquities, so many rooms. He is reminded vaguely of Vlad's mansion back in Wisconsin, but this seems larger, and better decorated. They end up in a living room of sorts, lots of different chairs and couches wand a huge TV lining a whole wall.

     Danny sits in one of the armchairs. Agent A soon comes in, with another tray of food. This tray seems to be for more than just him though. Hopefully. He could never hope to finish that many snacks by himself. 

     A isn't wearing a mask this time. “No masks upstairs, Master Jason. I'll keep the boy company until the rest of you get here.”

     Hood (Jason?) leaves and A introduces himself as Alfred. Apparently, he is the butler of the people that live here. Makes sense that people rich enough to live in this house would have a butler.

     Alfred lets him sit and eat for a few minutes in silence. The room gradually becomes more full as people come in and take their seats. They all introduce themselves as they come in and sit down. Damian and Dick sit together on a couch, with a girl he knows he’s never met before, Cassandra on Dick’s other side. Jason comes in and takes another armchair. Tim sits on a couch, a blond girl, Stephanie, and another boy, Duke, sit next to him. They all start working. Seems like Stephanie and Duke are in college, and Tim works at a big company. 

     Once the oldest person yet comes in, Bruce, and sits on an armchair, they all stop whatever else they were doing and turn to face him. He’s pretty sure he’s met most of them before while they were in masks, but other than Jason he doesn’t really know who is who. 

     “Can you tell us more about where you’re from now?” Bruce asked.

     Danny looks around the face in the room. They’ve all been helpful and kind. And he’s so tired of lying all the time. They’re most likely going to kick him out once they get their answers anyway.

     “I’m from a different dimension. I fled here after a fight.” Danny admitted.

They already seem less shocked than Danny would have imagined, and they aren’t calling him crazy yet, so this is going great!

     “There is a… war, almost? Starting in that world.” Danny gets fully into storytelling mode, as none of the others seem like they’re going to interrupt his thought process. “It all started with my parents actually. They started building a portal to the ghost zone, and that’s when it all went downhill really. Especially for me. I had my best friends over, they wanted to see the portal, so I took them down to the basement.”

     Danny took a deep breath. “My parents had put the on button inside of the portal, and when I went in… I hit it on accident. The portal turned on with me inside.”

     Everyone in the room remained quiet, and Danny couldn’t bear looking at their faces right now. He did his best to move on. “The portal was open, and ectoplasm started seeping into our town, we didn’t realize at the time, but that becomes a bigger problem later. At the time, we -or I- was busy becoming a one-man army against an invasion of ghosts. My parents started developing weapons. The government declared any being whose body could process or contained ectoplasm was non-sentient and could be kidnapped, experimented on, and/or killed at will. The Anti-Ecto Acts. The government branch dedicated to ghosts, the G.I.W, invaded Amity. Me and my friends had been capturing the ghosts causing problems and sending them back into the ghost zone. Now, we had to do that while trying to play keep-away with my parents and the government, while trying not to get captured myself. The government decided they wanted to send a nuke into the portal, trying to kill all ghosts at once."

     “I had to stop it. I was gathering all ghosts left in Amity to bring them with me to the Zone. My friends were going to close the portal behind us, destroy it. My parents had just finished their new gun.” Danny���s hand went to his side. “They chased us. I made it through the portal, with as many ghosts as I could find. Theoretically, the portal was closed once I left.”

     Danny was quiet long enough that the others realized he was done. 

     “I’m sorry that happened.” Danny heard, he looked up, but didn’t know who had said it. They all seemed sad.

     “And you’re… A ghost then?” Jason asked.

     “Only half.” They all looked bewildered at that. “It’s complicated."

     “So, you can’t go home?” Bruce asked.

     Danny shook his head. “If all went well then the portal doesn’t exist anymore, not that I could leave this dimension without a portal. I’m stuck here.” 

     “You’ll be staying with us then.” Bruce nodded firmly. “Metas are protected in this world, Danny. I’ve worked on a team with a ghost before. You’re safe here, Danny.”

[doctorprofessorsong]

Destiel fic recs

Another round of brainrot. I hope they never fix what's wrong with me.

Beggars Would Ride by Tiamatv (Explicit, 118k)

You had me at Aladdin AU. When Dean Winchester is caught stealing, he's given one chance for freedom. Go into the Cave of Wonders, grab the amulet, and get out. Things don't go as planned. Now he's got a moody ancient genie to contend with. But maybe he can use up two of his wishes and then grant the genie his wish: to be free. What could go wrong?

This fic is an absolutely delight. I laughed so hard, especially at the fun ways Tiamatv played with the SPN canon and the Disney movies. But beyond the humor is some really fantastic world building and a beautiful story about finding your way when you feel trapped by life.

Genie Cas is very cute and grumpy and sassy, and it's fun to watch him start to care. And Dean has so much heart it will make you ache. Sam and Jess are disgustingly cute but both are also whip smart and fun. And Jo (Jess’ sister in this) is the knife girl of my dreams.

This one is hard to put down.

Tourbillon Dreams by kayliemalinza @kayliemalinza (Mature, 40k)

Dean uses Bobby's life insurance proceeds to buy a hoarders house stuffed to the brim with cursed and haunted objects. But when he finds a clock that also happens to be an angel, things take an unexpected turn.

It sounds cracky and there is some delightful humor, but this fic packs a beautiful emotional punch. Dean is in his peak caretaking, competency mode and Clockstiel is adorable and entranced with Dean in a way that is just immensely readable.

There is something starkly gorgeous about the way Dean and Cas are physically so different and yet they find each other in meaningful and beautiful ways.

Love Is a Meat Loaf Song by followyourenergy @followyourenergy (Explicit, 68k)

A reimagining of canon where Dean is never saved and becomes a demon. He's bored waiting for the apocalypse when he happens upon a certain blue eyed seraph and they decide to work together.

This fic has all the delightful sassiness you expect of Demon!Dean and especially when he spends time with his frenemy, Meg. It also has just absolutely amazing angel lore and a deep dive into Cas and his trauma. All of this is wrapped up in a soft love story about two beings finding each other and seeing each other and breaking down each other's walls.

It's the entire package of funny, sincere and romantic.

Where there is Darkness by quiettewandering @wanderingcas (Explicit, 91k)

I may have popped this on at some point when it was a WIP but I have to renew my recommendation if so. Dean and Sam are lighthouse keepers, but Dean keeps driving off the third member of their team until Cas shows up. But will they be able to overcome their past to carve out happiness?

This Dean and Cas are so delicious. I am deeply fond of them both. They are fighting against so much baggage and yet they find in each other something so special. Sammy is also perfectly oblivious in the best way. It's hard to explain what makes this fic special except that it is so engrossing, you will be slamming next chapter

Valley of God by ValleyDean @valleydean (Mature, 145k)

I know. I KNOW. The MCD tag is daunting in a fic like this but I promise that while it is accurate, then ending is softer than you think and it's really the way it should end.

So there are a few things about this fic that make it absolutely delicious. First, it really delves into Cas’ trauma in a really gorgeous way. We don’t have enough fics that look at his angel trauma (we can't for me tbh) and this one uses a religious cult situation to delve into it. Second, Dean and Cas in this fic are just so messy and delightful. Dean wants to believe that Cas is good so badly. Cas wants to protect Dean the same way. It's crunchy. Finally, the atmosphere is amazing. It's creepy. It gets under your skin.

Is it dark? Absolutely. But it's also amazing.

The Darkest Sunshine by StarlightOfFandoms @starlightoffandoms (Explicit, 35k)

If murder husbands is your thing, this one is a delight of a fic. Dean Winchester is the Righteous Man serial killer, a notorious murderer who goes after monsters (in human form). People who are guilty of abhorrent crimes. But when he goes after Cas, a professor believed to have murdered several students, he discovers an innocent man being framed. Together with Cas and his team, Dean decides to find the real killer. He just has to pretend to be Cas’ boyfriend until they succeed.

The fake dating trope in a murder husbands fic was a total delight. So was the fact that Dean doesn't work alone and has a full support system to go after the worst of the worst. It's an intriguing concept done really well. Dean in this fic is an interesting blend of sociopathic tendencies, a strong sense of justice, and a willingness to do anything for those he is loyal to. Cas is intrigued by Dean and accepts him as he is. It's a really great combination.

A Weed In Any Other Place by VioletHaze @scones-and-texting-and-murder (Explicit, 63k)

On the other end of the spectrum is this fluffy rom com. There is some angst, but most of it is soft, sweet falling in love along with supportive friends and family.

Cas is a writer. Well, Cas had a book published and now he's desperately trying to write his second while convincing himself the first was probably just a fluke. Writers block is a bitch. That is until his car breaks down and he ends up at a little shop called Winchester and Son. By some weird trick of fate, it's exactly what he needs. He has the most productive day in years sitting in their waiting room. So he comes back, and keeps coming back. The extremely cute mechanic with green eyes doesn't hurt.

Cas is a disaster at social situations in a relatable way. Dean is struggling to put away some bad lessons from his dad so that he can find what he wants instead of what his father pushed on him. Both have a lovely support system. Charlie, in particular, makes me deeply fond in this fic.

i like your shoelaces (thanks! i stole them from the president) by you-cant-spell-subtext-without (ayreisha) @you-cant-spell-subtext-without (Explicit, WIP, 33k so far)

My lovely Tumblr wife is back at it, writing the most delightfully chaotic fic based on Misha's prompt awhile back for President Cas and Fast Food Janitorial Staff Dean Winchester. It's a Cinderella story and in equal parts hilarious and adorable. Also it is a Dean-saster/Cas-tastrophe pairing which is always fun plus there's a 2 person love triangle situation.

Dean's stuck in a miserable job with his only escape being his love of How I Met Your Mother and the Tumblr blog he devotes to the fandom. But when a handsome man walks in one night after hours, things heat up. Too bad the man in question is actually the President.

It's a romp and a love letter to fandom.