#to be clear there has been zero pressure | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

blondechariot · 3 months ago

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NCT127 reaction to you telling them you’re a virgin

Pairing: NCT127 x reader

Warnings: light smut, make out, some fluff

Taeyong

It’s a boring Sunday afternoon, and for once, Taeyong has the day off. You two decided you would only leave the bed for food and bathroom breaks. It had been his idea, and you immediately agreed since you both hadn’t been able to spend much time together lately. You and Taeyong haven’t been together for long — just a month, to be exact. That made it even more special for you to have him all to yourself for an entire day and hide away at home.

So it happens that at 4 PM, you’re still lying in bed. His head rests in your lap as he scrolls through his phone while you absentmindedly run your fingers through his hair. Eventually, he closes his eyes and sighs,

“This is nice. Maybe you should apply to work at SM as staff so I can take you on tour with me,” he suggests with a smile.

You giggle. “You’d like that, wouldn’t you?”

He absentmindedly nods. “I’d love it. I’d have you around every day,” he murmurs, wiggling his eyebrows.

“And at night, when everyone’s asleep, I’ll sneak into your room.”

You smile briefly but then grow thoughtful.

“And what would we do in my room?” you ask.

He opens one eye and tilts his head slightly.

“Well, this. You’d run your fingers through my hair.”

“Oh, so that’s why you want me to come along? To be your personal masseur?” you laugh mockingly, making him grin widely.

“I’d make sure to return the favor,” he promises, reaching for your hand and kissing your knuckles.

You tilt your head slightly, watching him as he intertwines his fingers with yours and squeezes them gently. Your relationship was amazing in every way — except for one thing. Taeyong had never mentioned it, but you were aware of the way he looked at you when you changed after a shower or lay by the pool in a bikini. You noticed his glances but always pretended not to. He never brought it up or tried to go further than kissing or making out on the couch. You were grateful for that, but you couldn’t shake the feeling that a conversation about it was coming soon.

It’s not that you didn’t want to — Taeyong looked incredible, and there were moments you could barely hold yourself back from jumping him. It was more the fact that you had no experience at all that made you hesitant.

“A penny for your thoughts,” Taeyong says, pulling you out of your daze, wiggling his eyebrows at you. You chuckle softly and run your fingers through your hair.

“What’s wrong?” he asks curiously, turning his head toward you.

You chew on your lower lip, searching for the right words.

“I-I know it might seem like I’m making you wait on purpose, but I’m not,” you suddenly say, making him frown slightly

“What do you mean?”

“Tae… I don’t want you to think I don’t trust you or anything… that’s not why we haven’t gone further yet,” you explain.

He sits up, looking at you confused.

“What is this? Are you trying to justify yourself?” he asks with a small smile.

“It’s more like… I just want to explain so you don’t think badly of me,” you confess, feeling guilty.

He laughs and kisses you gently.

“You don’t have to explain anything to me,” he assures you.

“But—”

“Listen, you’re the hottest woman in the entire world to me, but that’s not why I’m with you. I don’t care when we take the next step — I just don’t want you to feel pressured into anything,” he says, placing his hand on your cheek.

You chew on your lip again and clear your throat before looking into his eyes.

“I, um… I’m still a virgin,” you say quietly.

He looks at you for a moment and then chuckles.

“So what?”

“That means I really have zero experience… What if I’m terrible?” you ask, insecure.

He sighs briefly and kisses you again.

“I doubt that. You drive me crazy just by tossing your hair back. I’m more worried about being terrible myself,” he laughs.

You roll your eyes and playfully nudge him.

“Idiot.”

“The fact that you’re a virgin doesn’t change anything for me — if anything, honestly, it’s kinda sexy,” he admits, grinning.

You laugh and kiss him tenderly.

“We’ll figure it out — but only when you’re really ready, okay?” he asks seriously, pressing his forehead against yours.

“Okay,” you confirm with a big smile.

Doyoung

It’s your fourth date. The first three were spent at the movies, going for a walk, and visiting a museum followed by coffee. At the end of your second date, you had gathered your courage and kissed him for the first time. Since then, not a minute had gone by without the two of you texting, calling, or sending each other funny videos and pictures.

Tonight, however, he had invited you over to his place — the first time you’d ever been to his apartment. He cooked for you and had clearly put in a lot of effort. You hadn’t missed how his hand trembled slightly when he poured you some more wine or helped you take off your coat. By now, though, he had relaxed, and the two of you had been laughing, chatting about everything and nothing, and joking around.

It was getting late as you both started clearing the table and loading the dishwasher.

“You have surprisingly few plates,” you remarked as you peeked into one of his cabinets.

“I know. A lot of them didn’t survive,” he snorted in mock frustration while rinsing the frying pan.

You closed the cabinet door and watched him for a moment. He was standing with his back to you at the sink, and you observed the way his shoulders moved. His shirt sleeves were rolled up to his elbows, and his muscles flexed now and then as he handled the heavy pan. He looked incredibly good, and you felt a sudden urge to touch him.

You walked over to him and pressed a kiss to his cheek. He looked at you surprised, then smiled broadly.

“What was that for?”

“As a thank you—for the meal,” you replied with a smile of your own.

He set the pan down and dried his hands with a towel before turning to face you.

“Then I guess I should cook more often,” he said and took your hand.

“I can bring a plate each time, so eventually you’ll have enough,” you suggested, making him roll his eyes with a grin.

“If that means you’ll come over more often, I’m all for it,” he said softly, raising one corner of his mouth before gently placing a finger under your chin so you’d look at him.

You smiled faintly and leaned up to press your lips against his. He leaned in, placing his hands on your hips while yours cupped his face. He tilted his head and deepened the kiss, his tongue sliding into your mouth, and you sighed quietly. One of his hands moved to the back of your neck while the other settled on your waist, pulling you closer.

You hesitantly pulled back and gave him a quick smile.

“M-Maybe we could sit on the couch? It’s more comfortable,” you suggested quietly.

He grinned and nodded before taking your hand and leading you to the couch. But you turned him around so you could sit down first, pulling him down with you. He looked at you intently before connecting your lips again and settling between your legs. You ran your fingers through his hair as he began kissing your neck, his hands exploring your body.

You closed your eyes, trying to relax, but when his hand moved between your legs and started sliding up your thigh, your body tensed up. You placed your hand over his.

“Everything okay?” he asked, lifting his head with concern.

You bit your lip and sighed.

“Sorry,” you murmured, frustrated by your own reaction.

“Did I do something wrong? Am I going too fast?”

“No, no, not at all,” you quickly said, brushing your hand along his cheek.

Still, he looked unsure, and you cleared your throat, straightening up a little so you could meet his gaze.

“I, um… I’ve just never done this before,” you admitted shyly.

“Sex?” he asked, surprised.

You nodded slowly, looking at him nervously.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” he asked, clearly surprised.

“It just never came up… is that bad?”

“Of course not,” he said quickly with a small smile, giving you a short kiss.

“But if I’d known, I don’t know… I probably would’ve approached things differently,” he admitted, a little awkward.

“No, you didn’t do anything wrong. I don’t even know why I just blurted it out,” you murmured quietly.

He gave you a soft smile and tucked a strand of hair behind your ear.

“I’m glad you told me,” he said warmly. “And I won’t do anything you’re not comfortable with, ever. Promise.”

You laughed quietly and nodded.

“I know,” you said, and kissed him.

You looked at each other for a moment before you cleared your throat.

“I should probably go now.”

“Or… you could stay,” he suggested. “We could watch a movie, talk, I’ve even got coffee.”

You smiled widely and nodded.

“That sounds perfect.”

Jaehyun

Well, so much for the picnic,”

Jaehyun sighed after closing the car door, while the rain pounded heavily against the outside. You had planned a beautiful picnic by the lake, everything was perfectly prepared — but the weather had other plans. It had started off nicely: you managed to lay out the blanket and sit down, but just as you began eating, the sky darkened and the first shower came down. You barely made it back to the car with your things.

Your hair and clothes were soaked, and the car seats immediately absorbed the rainwater.

“Damn it,” Jaehyun muttered under his breath, staring out the window.

You pushed your wet hair back and shrugged.

“Oh well,” you said, laughing, and reached for the basket of food.

“Guess it’s going to be a car picnic instead,” you suggested, handing him a sandwich.

He looked skeptically at your hand for a moment before laughing and shrugging as well.

“Fine by me,” he chuckled and took the sandwich from you.

A little while later, you had your legs draped across his lap, and you had already eaten most of the food. Absentmindedly, his hand started to trace lazy patterns along your legs. His gaze rested on you, and when you looked up, your eyes met his. He gave you a wide smile.

“Why are you looking at me like that? Do I have mayonnaise on my face?” you asked, starting to wipe your face frantically.

“Now that you mention it…” he said, pulling your legs further over his lap, bringing your upper body closer to him.

You startled a little but laughed as he looked at you proudly.

“What are you doing?”

“You really do have some mayonnaise,” he teased, leaning down to kiss the corner of your mouth.

He paused, studying you for a second, before saying, “Hmm, nope, there’s still something left,” and kissed you again — this time fully on the lips, gently stroking your cheek. You kissed him back but then pulled away.

“Don’t do that,” you whined playfully, giving him a little shove in the side.

He laughed and tilted his head.

“What’s wrong? Does it make you nervous?” he teased, wiggling his eyebrows.

“No, but it ruins the mood,” you said, laughing but trying to stay serious.

He gasped in mock offense and frowned.

“Wow, how am I ruining the mood?”

“We were having such a nice picnic in the car,” you grinned.

“Exactly. It’s raining outside, we’ve got food, and I’m stuck in a small space with a beautiful woman,” he said dramatically.

“All that’s missing is some music and candles to make it properly romantic,” you added sarcastically.

He sat up a little straighter.

“I don’t have candles, but I do have music,” he said proudly, pulling his phone out of his pocket and opening Spotify.

He played a chill playlist and set the phone down on the driver’s seat. Then he relaxed back so that your legs rested fully across his lap, making it easy for him to lean over you.

“Just so you know, I think this is very romantic,” he informed you, bumping his nose against yours.

You smiled softly and traced his lips with your fingertips before kissing him tenderly. His hand slid up your thigh and you took a deep breath, looking into his eyes nervously. He smiled warmly at you, and for a moment, your nervousness faded — until he leaned down to nibble gently at your earlobe and trailed kisses along your neck.

“Jaehyun,” you breathed, threading a hand into his hair.

“Mhm?” he hummed against your skin, continuing his kisses.

“I’m still a virgin,” you confessed, feeling him freeze mid-movement.

He lifted his head and looked at you, surprised.

“Really?”

You nodded quickly, feeling nervous under his gaze. His silence made your heart race.

“We don’t have to continue, you know? We can stop,” he offered gently, stroking your stomach.

“But you want to keep going,” you said skeptically.

He let out a small laugh.

“Of course I’d love to keep going, but I would never force you into anything you’re not ready for,” he said softly, pressing a kiss to your cheek.

You sat up and played with a strand of his hair.

“That’s not it. I do want to keep going… I just thought you should know,” you murmured shyly.

He looked at you in surprise.

“So you want to… you know.”

You giggled and nodded.

“Yes, Jaehyun. I want you to be my first.”

His cheeks flushed red, and he scratched the back of his neck.

“I, uh, feel honored.”

“Aww, am I making you nervous now?” you teased, quoting him from earlier and giving him a cheeky grin.

He rolled his eyes.

“I just want it to be special for you,” he pouted.

“I’m ready, okay? I trust you, and I’m 100% sure I want this,” you assured him, kissing his cheek.

“Are you really sure?” he asked one last time.

“Really sure,” you confirmed, smiling brightly.

He grinned widely and gently pushed you back down onto the seat, positioning himself over you.

Mark

You’re sitting next to each other on the couch. You’re watching a movie while Mark is on his phone. Over the course of a year, the two of you had become very close friends — you could talk about anything. Mark knew everything about your love life, and you knew everything about his.

He also knew that you had recently been dumped by your boyfriend and that he was the only guy you could currently stand to be around. It already helped just having him sitting next to you on the couch, even if he was just scrolling through his phone. You always enjoyed his presence, even during the quiet moments when you weren’t talking or goofing around.

You sat on your side of the couch, chewing on a pretzel stick, your eyes on the TV — though your mind kept wandering.

You hadn’t gotten very far physically with your ex; you never had sex, which would have been your first time. You had been excited because sex was something that sparked your curiosity, something you really wanted to experience. All the more angry you were when your ex ended up sleeping with a coworker.

Since then, a frustration had been building inside you, one you couldn’t even put into words.

You had reached a point where you just wanted to get it over with — for the experience. But not with just anyone. You wanted it to be someone you trusted, someone you liked, and who knew you well.

Your gaze stopped on your friend Mark, who was resting his head on one hand while scrolling through TikTok.

“Mark,” you said slowly, raising an eyebrow.

“Hm?” he replied, turning his head slightly but keeping his eyes on his screen.

“Would you sleep with me?” you asked boldly.

He glanced at you, let out a short laugh, and shook his head before turning back to his phone.

When you stayed silent and kept looking at him, he froze and furrowed his brow.

“Wait, what?” he asked, blinking in confusion.

“You think I’m attractive, right?” you pressed on.

“What are you talking about?”

“I saw you checking out my boobs when I bent over,” you said casually.

“Okay, hey, I — uh — what is happening right now?” he stammered, finally putting his phone aside.

You sighed and turned off the TV.

“You know I’m still a virgin… and honestly, I’m so over it. I want to finally have sex, but I don’t feel like starting a whole new relationship just for that.”

“Then download Tinder or something,” he muttered.

“I want to do it with someone I trust. Someone who knows me and actually likes me. I’ve had so many bad experiences with guys that I don’t want to leave my first time up to chance,” you explained.

Mark stared at you for a moment before pulling a skeptical face.

“This is a test, right?”

“Mark,” you said, rolling your eyes in frustration.

“Do I need to show you my boobs to prove I’m serious? Because I’ll do it,” you threatened, tugging at your T-shirt.

“No!” he yelped, quickly pushing your shirt back down.

“I-I’m just trying to wrap my head around this. You want to have your first time with me? But you have other guy friends too.”

“I don’t trust any of them like I trust you. Plus, you’re cute,” you teased with a grin.

He blushed slightly and cleared his throat awkwardly.

“So… what do you say?” you tried again, nudging him gently in the side.

He scratched the back of his head thoughtfully and took a deep breath, glancing around.

“So what then… here and now? Or how do you imagine this?” he asked.

“I don’t know. You’re the more experienced one,” you shrugged.

He chuckled at your honesty and smiled briefly. Then he stood up and reached for your hand.

“Just because I’m more experienced doesn’t mean I’m good at it. But maybe we should at least move to the bedroom,” he suggested.

You smiled too, but then he looked at you seriously.

“I just need to know this is really what you want,” he said, squeezing your hand firmly.

“I want this. I really do,” you confirmed, pressing a soft kiss to his lips.

He looked surprised and froze for a second, then shook himself out of it and nodded.

“All right.”

Johnny

You barely made it into the hallway before Johnny slammed the door shut behind him and pressed you up against the wall. You kissed him feverishly, your hands running through his hair, while his clung tightly to your waist, tracing your skin and giving you playful squeezes.

You had met at Mark’s party, had a few too many drinks, and after an hour of intense conversation, decided to leave and get to know each other better.

“I have no idea where I’m going,” he mumbled against your lips with a grin, and you realized that you were at your place — he didn’t know the layout.

You giggled softly before grabbing his hand and pulling him along behind you.

In your bedroom, you started taking off your jacket, but he beat you to it, practically yanking it off.

You stumbled a little and laughed, but he quickly caught you, laughing along before taking off his blazer as well.

You let yourself fall backward onto the bed, and he followed without hesitation, pinning your hands above your head and pressing hot kisses against your neck.

You sighed and closed your eyes, trying to free your hands from his grip — but he was too strong.

“Fuck, you’re perfect,” he panted against your skin before kissing you deeply again.

You smiled briefly and arched your chest up so he could reach the zipper of your dress.

When he pulled the top half down, he sat back for a second, shaped his fingers like a camera, and said,

“Mental picture.”

“Shut up,” you laughed, pulling him back down toward you.

But he pulled away again, hurriedly unbuttoning his shirt. When you finally felt his skin against yours, heat flooded through your body, and you wrapped your legs around his waist.

He ground his hips against your pelvis, and you bit your lip to stifle a sound.

Satisfied, he grinned and let his hand rest against your neck, stroking your skin with his fingertips.

He kissed you once more and then looked at you, asking,

“Do you have condoms here?”

Your face fell at the question, and with growing horror, you realized you didn’t have any.

You were still a virgin and definitely hadn’t been prepared for tonight. You were on the pill, but you had only just started taking it about a week ago, and you weren’t even sure how reliable it was yet.

“Uh…” you began awkwardly, and he glanced down at himself.

“I’m clean, so if you’re on the pill—”

“I-I’ve only been on the pill for about a week,” you stammered, flustered.

He grew more alert, raising an eyebrow.

“But you’ve done this before, right?”

You searched for the right words, but your face already gave you away.

“Oh,” Johnny said, surprised, and moved away from you.

“So what? I’m still a virgin. Are you seriously going to tell me that’s a problem?” you snapped, frustrated by his reaction, feeling stupid.

Johnny knelt in front of you and ran his hand through his hair.

“I honestly can’t do this,” he admitted.

“Seriously? You do realize that it’s completely my choice when I want to lose my virginity, right? And it’s none of your business why I waited. But fine, if it makes you that uncomfortable or embarrassed that I’m still a virgin — whatever. Leave,” you said sharply, pulling your dress back up.

He sighed and tilted his head.

“It’s not embarrassing that you’re a virgin,” he explained calmly.

“But your first time shouldn’t be a one-night stand… and definitely not while drunk.”

“I’m not even drunk,” you protested, offended.

He gave you a gentle shove, and you wobbled slightly.

“Stop it,” you hissed at him but sank back into the pillows with a huff.

“Great,” you muttered under your breath, shaking your head in annoyance.

Johnny chuckled softly and leaned over you again to kiss you gently.

“I think it’s cool that you’re still a virgin. But I’m not the right guy for your first time — not under these circumstances,” he explained.

You tried to hide your disappointment and shrugged.

“Fine. Are you going to call yourself a cab then?”

He stood up and started pulling his clothes back on.

As he saw you sitting there on the bed, he gave you a crooked smile and grabbed a pen from your desk.

“Give me your hand,” he said.

You hesitated but then reached out to him. He scribbled something down for a moment.

“That’s my number. If you’re sober and still think this is a good idea, call me,” he offered with a warm smile.

You looked down at the messy numbers on your hand and cleared your throat.

“I’m not promising anything.”

“I know,” he said with a wink before leaving your bedroom.

Jungwoo

This feels so good,” you sigh dreamily as you sit at the edge of the pool, your legs dangling in the water.

Jungwoo sits beside you, his legs also submerged, enjoying the calm and the coolness of the water.

The two of you had snuck into the outdoor pool after closing hours to cool off on such a hot day.

You watch your toes wiggle under the surface, then an idea strikes you. You pull your legs out of the water and stand up.

“What are you doing?” Jungwoo asks curiously.

“This isn’t enough for me,” you grin, pulling your T-shirt over your head.

He watches you with wide eyes as you strip down to just your bra and panties, hands resting on your hips.

“Are you coming in too?”

“What if we get caught? We won’t exactly be able to just run away,” he says, sounding thoughtful — though his attention is completely fixed on you.

You pause for a second, then shrug before reaching behind your back to undo your bra.

You toss it at him with a mischievous grin.

Jungwoo laughs briefly, clearly not believing what he’s seeing, as you step out of your panties and jump into the water.

When you resurface, you shoot him a challenging look, wiggling your eyebrows.

“Coming in?”

He watches you for a moment, then grins and slowly gets up, starting to strip off his clothes.

Just as he’s about to jump in, you call out to him.

“Didn’t you forget something?”

He glances down at himself and notices he’s still wearing his boxers.

“Equal rights for everyone,” you tease, splashing a little water in his direction.

Jungwoo blushes slightly, fingers hesitating at the waistband before he takes a deep breath and pulls them down as well.

You can’t help but sneak a glance, grinning triumphantly as he finally jumps into the water and swims over to you.

You feel his hands at your waist as he surfaces, running a hand through his wet hair.

You wrap your arms around his shoulders, and he pulls you into his lap.

“If I end up naked in jail because of you, I swear I’m going to kill you,” he laughs softly before you kiss him, your fingers threading through his damp hair.

Jungwoo gently pushes you backward until your back meets the edge of the pool.

You gasp for air briefly before pulling him into another passionate kiss. His arms are locked around your legs, holding you tightly against him.

When you pull away to catch your breath, he kisses along your neck, his fingers gliding over your skin.

You bite your lip and let out a soft moan, moving your hips against his, feeling him slowly harden.

“Jungwoo,” you breathe, your fingers trailing down his back.

He growls softly at the sensation of your nails and playfully bites your skin.

“Jungwoo,” you say again, more insistently this time.

The water ripples around you as you cup his face in your hands, forcing him to look at you.

“I— I want this… I want you… but I’m still a virgin,” you confess.

He looks at you, surprised, but says nothing for a moment.

Instead, he gently strokes your thighs, his expression unsure.

“And you’re sure you want this? Here?” he asks, concerned.

You smile brightly and kiss him quickly.

“I’ve never been more sure of anything. I really, really want this,” you whisper.

“But wouldn’t it be nicer—” he begins, but you cut him off with another kiss.

“It’s perfect. Honestly. I couldn’t imagine a better moment — or anyone I’d rather experience this with,” you tell him softly.

He looks at you for another moment, then brushes a wet strand of hair from your face and kisses you deeply.

He lifts you slightly, pressing you even closer to him, and you gasp softly as he mutters a quiet curse under his breath

Yuta

The sun was slowly setting as you and Yuta settled on the rooftop with a few blankets, a bottle of wine, and some food to enjoy the view.

It had been your idea — Yuta had had a long, exhausting day, and you wanted him to relax. You knew how hard he worked and thought he deserved some peace and quiet at your place.

The sky was already glowing red as you rested your head against his shoulder, absentmindedly tracing your fingers along his arm.

“This is nice,” you sighed.

When you didn’t get a response, you turned your head toward him.

“Yuta?”

Still no answer.

When you carefully lifted your head, you discovered your boyfriend had fallen asleep.

You chuckled softly before pressing a gentle kiss to his lips, which woke him up.

He frowned in confusion for a second, but the moment he opened his eyes and saw you, he smiled warmly.

“Should we go back inside? You should get some real sleep,” you suggested, starting to get up, but he pulled you back down against him.

“No, five more minutes,” he mumbled, wrapping his arms around you, pressing your head to his chest so you could hear his heartbeat.

He smelled incredible — that perfect, natural scent he always had without needing any cologne.

You inhaled deeply and kissed his collarbone softly.

“Oh, thanks,” he teased, grinning mischievously, and you pinched his arm.

“It’s unfair how good you smell naturally,” you mumbled against his shirt.

“Really? I think it’s pretty practical,” he said with a smug tone.

You rolled your eyes but kissed his collarbone again.

“How is that even possible? You come straight from training, eat greasy food, hang out with a bunch of guys, and you still smell heavenly,” you said in disbelief, sitting up slightly to look at him.

“It’s the testosterone. Drives women crazy,” he grinned cheekily.

“I hope you’re only talking about one woman,” you warned him playfully.

“Of course,” he laughed, kissing you sweetly.

You smiled into the kiss, then stood up briefly, making him look at you in confusion.

But you simply sat down in his lap, kissing him again — this time with more passion.

He seemed a little surprised but quickly pulled you tightly against him as you kissed along his neck, his hand slipping into your hair.

“What are you doing?” he asked quietly, his voice already a little rough.

“I can’t help it,” you whispered back, sliding your fingers under his shirt.

Goosebumps spread across his skin, and he closed his eyes briefly before leaning into you so your chest was pressed against his.

“You better control yourself. You’re driving me crazy,” he whispered with a crooked smile.

You returned his smile and raised an eyebrow.

“Good.”

He looked slightly startled, and you took his hands in yours, squeezing them tightly.

“There’s something you don’t know about me,” you admitted softly, making him look at you with concern.

“What’s wrong?” he asked, alarmed, his heartbeat speeding up.

“I’m a virgin,” you blurted out, feeling embarrassed.

He stared at you silently for a few seconds before leaning back a little to look you over.

“Really?”

You nodded, swallowing hard.

“Is… is that a problem for you?” you asked nervously.

He laughed and shook his head.

“To be honest…” he began, placing his hands firmly on your thighs.

You gasped in surprise at his strong grip, instinctively pressing your chest against him.

“That’s the hottest thing you’ve ever told me,” he added with a mischievous waggle of his eyebrows.

“Really?” you asked, shocked.

“Absolutely. And if you’re really sure you want to do this… I’m definitely not going to say no.

But I need you to be sure,” he warned you, brushing your cheek gently.

You thought for a moment, looked around, and bit your lip.

“Let’s stay up here,” you said.

“Seriously?” he laughed.

You giggled, pulling your top over your head and tossing it at him.

“It’s supposed to be special, right?” you said with a wicked grin.

Haechan

The party had been over for about half an hour. It was four in the morning, and almost everyone was either passed out or had disappeared with their hookups.

Johnny had offered you his bed earlier, but once he met your friend, it was clear he’d be needing it himself.

So here you were, sitting on the couch with a glass of water in your hand, trying to counter your inevitable hangover while staring blankly ahead.

You weren’t exactly tired yet — just very drunk. Damn Johnny and his persuasive ways.

You heard a noise and looked up.

Haechan stood in the doorway, rubbing his eyes. When he saw you, he gave a small wave and a nod.

“Hey.”

“Hey, where did you come from?” you asked, surprised.

“I fell asleep on the balcony chair. Nearly froze my ass off,” he said, rubbing his arms.

“You know if there’s a free room where no one’s having sex?” he asked hopefully.

“I don’t think so,” you grinned.

He sighed and glanced at your phone.

“Can I borrow your phone? I’ll call a cab.”

You looked around briefly and shifted on the couch.

“You can just take the couch. It’s too late to call a cab anyway.”

“No way, it’d be rude to kick you off,” he shook his head.

“I meant we could share the couch. You think I’m gonna sleep on the floor?” you asked, feigning offense.

“Is that really okay?”

“Shut up and sit down,” you grumbled.

He plopped down beside you and ran a hand through his hair.

“Did I miss much?”

“Honestly, I didn’t even know you were here,” you admitted with a laugh.

He grinned and pinched your side.

“Where’s Johnny?”

“With my friend in his bed… you know,” you said, smirking.

“Oh,” he said, surprised, glancing down the hallway.

“Damn.”

“What?”

“I thought he’d be hooking up with you,” he said casually.

You frowned, confused.

“Excuse me?”

“Oh, come on, I saw the way you were looking at him.”

“Oh god — we — no… just no. Johnny and I are good friends. That’s it. He’s really not my type,” you said quickly, scrunching up your nose.

Haechan scoffed, and although he reeked slightly of alcohol, he seemed more or less coherent.

“Can’t blame him though. Wish I hadn’t fallen asleep; maybe I’d be in a room right now too,” he sighed dramatically.

You rolled your eyes and patted his thigh.

“Poor guy,” you said sarcastically.

“Hey, you have no idea how rough it is,” he protested, biting his lip.

“I miss it — that physical closeness. There’s nothing better than feeling a woman’s warm body against yours, her soft skin under your hands while you explore her body, pressing her close, kissing her neck, feeling her melt under you, making her feel like she’s pure perfection. Even when you’re both sweating, bodies burning up… that feeling is indescribable,” he sighed.

Your breath caught in your throat.

Only now did you realize you hadn’t even blinked.

Haechan’s words echoed in your head, and your grip on your glass tightened.

The top three buttons of his shirt were undone, revealing part of his chest, a few beads of sweat glistening on his skin.

You bit your lip, your breathing getting a little faster.

When Haechan waved his hand in front of your face, you snapped out of your trance.

“What?” you asked, startled.

“I said, are you okay?” he repeated, confused.

You stared at him for a while, took a sip of your water, and then set the glass on the coffee table.

You turned toward him, taking a deep breath.

“Haechan?”

“Hm ?”

“Do you want to have sex?”

“I mean, did you even listen to me? I can barely hold it together. I’m dying here,” he scoffed.

You mustered all your courage and cleared your throat.

“I mean with me. Do you want to have sex with me?”

“What?” he laughed, but when he saw the serious look on your face, his smile faded.

“You’re serious?”

“The thing is, um… I don’t have much experience,” you admitted, your voice raspy, swallowing hard, “but everything you said earlier… it really got to me. And you were right. I want that too.”

He looked you up and down, thinking for a moment.

“Or am I that awful?” you asked, hurt, glancing down at yourself.

“No,” he said quickly, scratching the back of his head.

“Quite the opposite… it’s just — I have to ask, since we’ve been drinking — are you really sure you want this?” he asked uncertainly.

You nodded, shrugging slightly.

“So, are you just all talk, or can you actually back it up?” you teased him with a smirk.

He scoffed and raised an eyebrow.

“You tell me,” he said, pulling you roughly into his lap.

#nct 127 #nctzen #nct imagines #nct x reader #taeyong #jaehyun #johnny suh #mark lee #kim jungwoo #haechan #nakamoto yuta #fanfiction #fanfic #fluff #romance

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stlllle · 11 days ago

Text

"Secret Love: Stray Kids x Reader Headcanons "

📌 Disclaimer: This is pure fiction made for fun, with lots of love for STAYs who like imagining secret (and later public) romances with the boys. None of this is real, of course.

---

💌 Author’s note:

Another headcanon because I just felt like writing something about them. I was thinking about doing something else for them (separately) but honestly… I have zero ideas right now 😔

If you like this and want to request something, feel free to! My requests are open 😃

Masterlist – [link]

Bang chan:

📌 Before the Serious Relationship — When Everything Was a Total Secret

Bang Chan has always been known for keeping his personal life under wraps. As Stray Kids’ leader, the weight on his shoulders was double what most people realized. When the two of you first got involved, it happened naturally — and far from the public eye.

In the beginning, there wasn’t even a label. It was an intense friendship, heavy with glances that lingered too long and touches that lasted a few seconds more than they should. Messages came in at midnight, when sleep wouldn’t come and the ache of missing you hit hard. Chan was the type of guy who couldn’t hide his feelings, but he could hide his actions. He smiled on the inside when he saw you but kept a straight face so no one would suspect.

He’d text things like:

“Did you get home safe?”

“I heard a song and it reminded me of you… but I acted like it didn’t.”

“I want to see you so bad, but I can’t. Just needed to say that.”

Meetups were, of course, in secret. He’d pick you up in a staff-rented car after practice, or you’d sneak away to late-night cafés on the outskirts of town. Chan was obsessed with protecting you from the world, terrified that the pressure and judgment would destroy whatever fragile thing you two had.

Stolen kisses in empty hallways, hands brushing under the table, whispered conversations in the bathroom at parties the group attended. That was your love story: intense, forbidden, and urgent.

Behind the cameras, the leader of Stray Kids was just a boy in love, desperate to keep his person safe.

---

📌 How He Handled the Fear of Getting Caught

The fear was constant. Chan was paranoid about cameras, suspicious glances, fans who knew a little too much. He’d triple-check every message before sending, change your contact name to something like “Production Hyung” or “Delivery.”

He laid down clear rules:

“If anyone asks, say we’re not that close.”

“Never post anything from the same place as me.”

“Turn your location off.”

But at the same time, he wanted to scream your name to the world. It physically hurt not being able to hug you in front of everyone when they won an award, or post that dumb selfie of you two goofing around in the studio. Chan carried guilt and love in equal measure.

---

📌 The Moments That Were Just Yours — When the World Didn’t Exist

He made playlists filled with songs that reminded him of you. No matter how exhausted he was, he’d cook for you just to see you smile while eating. Chan loved laying his head on your lap while you ran your fingers through his hair.

Your talks ranged from silly nonsense to terrifyingly deep fears:

“If everything falls apart… would you still be here?”

“I’m scared I’ll hurt you by accident. Scared I’m not enough.”

He was needy, insecure, and head over heels for you. In the dark of the room or out on the balcony at 3AM, he confessed everything he couldn’t say in daylight.

---

📌 The Day He Wanted to Make It Official (But Couldn’t)

There was a day when Chan nearly told the company. He wrote an email, rehearsed the conversation, but never sent it. He knew the weight it would carry — for both your careers, and your lives. When he told you, he cried. Apologized for keeping you hidden, for not giving you what you deserved.

But you understood. And he fell even harder for you because of it.

---

📌 After the Relationship Went Public — By Choice or Through a Leak

When it finally came out — whether by leak or because he chose to stop hiding — Chan faced it head-on. He protected you, publicly asked the fandom for respect, and even stood his ground with the company.

He made it crystal clear he loved you.

If before fear ruled everything, now he held your hand in public. He posted subtle photos, talked about you in interviews in careful, proud ways. The intensity from before didn’t fade — it only grew.

The fandom, of course, was divided. Some adored you, others didn’t. Chan hurt for you, but never left your side. He built a safe space for you inside his chaotic world. Took you to rehearsals, introduced you to trusted idols.

The love became lighter, no longer needing to hide. Yet Chan remained your protector, still watching over you like a shield against anything cruel.

---

📌 The Difference Between Before and After

Before: It was urgency, fear, longing. Coded messages, stolen moments, whispered promises. Chan was love in silence.

After: It was safety, ease, and pride in finally being able to show you to the world. Chan was love in full volume.

Where once he slipped “I love you” notes into your jacket pocket, now he’d look you dead in the eyes across a room full of people and say it without a word. Same love, now with room to grow.

---

📌 What Life with the Fandom Was Like

Chan made it his mission to shield you. He publicly asked for boundaries, cut ties with invasive fans, and distanced himself from toxic people.

He never let you read hate comments. He constantly reminded you how loved you were — by him and by those who truly mattered.

The more mature, kind-hearted STAYs embraced you. The rest? He ignored.

Chan would never give you up. Ever.

---

📌 The Kind of Partner He Would Be Officially

Overprotective to a fault.

Deeply attentive and affectionate.

A boyfriend who writes songs about you.

Who leaves little surprise notes around the house.

Who includes you in his future plans.

Who listens to you, respects your moods and boundaries.

Bang Chan would be the kind of man who made you his priority, who apologized when wrong, who constantly made sure you knew just how much you meant to him.

If he loved you in secret before, now he’d love you for the world to see.

Lee Know:

📌 Before the Serious Relationship — When Everything Was a Total Secret

Minho had always been reserved about his private life, but when it came to feelings, he was almost unreachable. You and him grew closer slowly, at a pace only the two of you understood. It started with dry jokes, teasing, and glances that only the sharp-eyed would catch.

Lee Know wasn’t one to show much, but with you, he created small, silent rituals: sending cryptic KakaoTalk messages, always sitting next to you when possible, or leaving random little gifts like cat stickers and snacks.

Your meetups were planned like secret missions. Distant cafés, old video stores, or nighttime walks where no one would think to look for two idols. He never directly confessed, but his actions spoke for him. A longer touch on your shoulder, a note scribbled with “don’t disappear, idiot,” or waiting for you outside work without a word.

It was a relationship where silence said everything, and he saved every one of your smiles in his memory.

---

📌 How He Handled the Fear of Getting Caught

Minho was afraid, but he coped differently. Instead of paranoia, he used irony and coldness to cover his nerves. He’d save your contact under something like “Vet” or “Video Editor” and set up codes only you two understood.

He laid out strict boundaries:

“Don’t look at me when others are around."

“If I ignore you in front of the staff, it’s not personal.”

“If anyone follows you, tell me.”

Minho also kept an eye on your social media and location indirectly — not out of jealousy, but to make sure you were safe. If anyone suspected, he’d switch plans and lay low for a few days.

---

📌 The Moments That Were Just Yours — When the World Didn’t Exist

In private, Minho dropped every wall. He was playfully affectionate: sticking his cold feet under your legs, making you watch terrible movies, and laughing at your reactions. He loved secretly recording random videos of you — dancing badly, napping on the couch, or talking to his cats.

Serious talks happened in the kitchen or during late-night walks:

“You know I suck at words, right?”

“If I hurt you by accident… kick me. But stay with me.”

He showed love through little things: fixing your hair, pulling you away from the street, bringing you food when you didn’t ask.

---

📌 The Day He Wanted to Make It Official (But Couldn’t)

One night, Lee Know picked you up at midnight just to say he wanted to make it official. He was tired of hiding, but the company’s pressure and fan reactions kept holding him back.

“I just want to hold your hand in public without worrying.”

He fell silent after that, his head resting on the steering wheel while you held his hand. The decision stayed in limbo, but the feeling didn’t change.

---

📌 After the Relationship Went Public — By Choice or Through a Leak

When the relationship leaked, Lee Know was furious. Not at you, but at the situation. He was the type to face things head-on, defending the people he loved with sharp words and bold actions. If the company hesitated, he’d draw clear lines.

In public, he stayed discreet but didn’t dodge the topic. He admitted having someone important in his life and insisted it didn’t change his love for STAYs. Little by little, things eased.

He started posting cat photos where your hand could be seen, or sharing funny stories about "someone" without naming you. It was his way of including you.

---

📌 The Difference Between Before and After

Before: It was all teasing disguised as mockery, late-night messages, and rough affection that never failed. Minho was love in disguise.

After: It was partnership, comfort, and a lightness he never thought he’d find. He brought you to rehearsals, taught you choreography, and made it known — to those who mattered — that you were a priority.

---

📌 What Life with the Fandom Was Like

Minho was cold with toxic fans. He made a point of protecting you and cutting off anyone who crossed the line. The respectful, supportive fans he treated kindly and thanked.

He wouldn’t let you read hate comments, and if you did, he’d make jokes to ease the sting:

“If someone talks trash, tell me. I’ll send my cats after them.”

---

📌 The Kind of Partner He Would Be Officially

Sarcastic and protective.

Affectionate in his own quiet way.

Would leave you snarky notes.

Secretly record random videos of you.

Take you to secluded places for just the two of you.

Make future plans without realizing.

Call you his "favorite kind of chaos."

If before he teased you just to see your reaction, afterward he’d do it because it was his way of saying "I love you" without needing words.

Changbin:

📌 Before the Serious Relationship — When Everything Was a Total Secret

Changbin has always been intense in everything he does, and love would be no different. You started out as friends who understood each other with a glance, laughed at the same dumb jokes, and supported each other through heavy days. But it quickly became obvious to him that what he felt wasn’t just friendship.

He disguised it with over-the-top jokes and silly teasing, but his eyes gave him away. They always lingered a little too long, always checking if you were okay. When he realized he was falling, Changbin panicked — not just about the public, but about himself.

The relationship grew naturally: late-night talks, texts during practice, random little gifts. He’d send you voice notes singing or rapping absurd things just to make you laugh. Meetups were always far from busy spots: empty studios, parks after 11 PM, or his apartment balcony.

Changbin was a secret boyfriend who’d do anything to see you, even for five minutes.

---

📌 How He Handled the Fear of Getting Caught

Changbin’s biggest fear wasn’t for himself — it was for you. He knew how cruel people could be and was terrified you’d suffer hate or stalking. So he built strategies straight out of a spy movie:

Changing contact names to emojis.

Leaving phones in separate rooms.

Scheduling meetups no one would suspect.

He was paranoid about security, checking for cameras and getting tense whenever interviews mentioned relationships. But it was hard for him to hide when it came to you. His eyes sparkled, and smiles slipped through.

---

📌 The Moments That Were Just Yours — When the World Didn’t Exist

In private, Changbin was completely different. He hugged you like the world might end, rested his head in your lap, played with your hair, and laughed at your dumbest jokes.

He loved cooking for you, even if it turned into a disaster, and treasured watching you eat. He recorded silly songs with your name in them, called you ridiculous nicknames, and was fiercely jealous of your friends.

Serious talks always came late at night:

“If this ever hurts you, promise you’ll tell me.” “I never wanna hurt you… even by accident.”

He was intense, a little possessive, but always full of heart.

---

📌 The Day He Wanted to Make It Official (But Couldn’t)

One night, after a tough session in the studio, Changbin showed up at your place, dead set on telling the company. He was exhausted from hiding. But the second he saw the worried look on your face, he backed down.

“It’s not worth it if it puts you in danger.”

He held you tight and promised things would be different one day.

---

📌 After the Relationship Went Public — By Choice or Through a Leak

When the relationship became public — whether by leak or choice — Changbin reacted with bravery. He faced the public, rumors, and the company head-on. He asked for respect online, thanked supportive fans, and ignored the haters.

He started including you in his lyrics more openly, dedicating performances, and dropping subtle messages in interviews.

Life together became easier. You joined him at rehearsals, trips, and hangouts with trusted friends. He made a point of holding your hand in public, even if discreetly.

---

📌 The Difference Between Before and After

Before: It was urgency, longing, hidden notes, and late-night voice messages. Changbin was love smothered in secrecy.

After: It became freedom, pride, and public displays of affection. He spoke openly about how much you meant to him.

---

📌 What Life with the Fandom Was Like

Changbin didn’t sugarcoat anything. He publicly defended you and made it clear that anyone disrespecting the relationship wasn’t welcome. He ignored rumors, blocked hateful comments, and thanked the mature, kind-hearted fans who supported you both.

He’d never let you read hate comments, and if you did, he’d crack jokes to lighten the mood:

“If anyone talks trash about you, let me know. I’ll send my cats after them.”

---

📌 The Kind of Partner He Would Be Officially

Overprotective and affectionate.

Intense and a little jealous.

Would surprise you with songs written just for you.

Take you to random, out-of-the-way restaurants.

Include you in everything he could.

Send ridiculous voice notes just to hear you laugh.

Dream big and put you in all of those plans.

If before he loved you in backstage shadows, afterward he’d love you on stage, in the crowd, and in every word he spoke about the future.

Hyunjin:

📌 Before the Serious Relationship — When Everything Was a Total Secret

Hyunjin has always been intense with his feelings but incredibly cautious about who he lets close. You two slowly grew closer through conversations about art, music, and frustrated dreams. He looked at you like he was trying to figure you out, and little by little, you became irreplaceable to each other.

In the beginning, everything was a little confusing. Hyunjin was too affectionate to be just a friend but kept too much distance to be something more. He’d send you random pictures of the sky or paintings that matched your mood that day. Long midnight messages, hidden notes in your pocket whenever you met up.

Your dates were always discreet: empty museums late at night, tiny hidden cafés in the city, or sketching together at his place.

Hyunjin was a silent, poetic kind of in-love. And you always knew.

---

📌 How He Handled the Fear of Getting Caught

Hyunjin was suffocated by fear, and unlike Chan or Minho, he couldn’t hide it well. In public, he was restless, avoided eye contact, and only got close when absolutely sure no one was watching.

He’d ask you not to post anything suspicious, made sure you never appeared in the same place as him, and sent you messages like:

“Wish I could hold your hand right now. But I can’t.”

Still, sometimes his feelings leaked through: lingering glances at events, knowing smiles, little gestures only you two noticed.

---

📌 The Moments That Were Just Yours — When the World Didn’t Exist

Hyunjin was a hopeless romantic behind closed doors. He made playlists for you, sketched your face in his notebooks, and wrote down his feelings.

He loved taking you to places no one knew, dancing with you in the middle of his living room to old songs, and spending hours in comfortable silence.

The deepest talks came when his head rested on your lap:

He was intense, dramatic, and completely in love.

“What if people find out and hate you?”

“I’m terrified I’ll hurt you.”

---

📌 The Day He Wanted to Make It Official (But Couldn’t)

One night, after drinking a little too much at a gathering, Hyunjin sent you dozens of messages saying he wanted to tell the world.

“I’m done hiding you. I love you. For real.”

The next day, he apologized and admitted it wasn’t possible yet. But that moment said everything.

---

📌 After the Relationship Went Public — By Choice or Through a Leak

When it all came out, Hyunjin was devastated by part of the public’s reaction. He blamed himself for exposing you and went days without showing up on live streams.

Little by little, though, he found strength. He asked for respect publicly, defended you fiercely, and learned how to navigate it.

He started including you in things: mentioning "someone special" in interviews, making videos with you subtly in the background, and posting photos only you two knew the meaning of.

The relationship got lighter, and Hyunjin grew more confident.

---

📌 The Difference Between Before and After

Before: It was stolen glances, hidden notes, and whispered confessions. Hyunjin was poetic, quiet love.

After: It became security, discreet public declarations, and fearless moments together. He learned to love you without hiding.

---

📌 What Life with the Fandom Was Like

Hyunjin struggled a lot at first. He was affected by comments but made sure to protect you.

He replied to hateful messages with poetic indirects, thanked those who defended you, and made it clear no one would take you from him.

Little by little, the more mature fans embraced it, and he felt relieved.

📌 The Kind of Partner He Would Be Officially

---

Flood your phone with late-night texts saying how much he loved you.

Extremely affectionate and dramatic.

Would write you letters.

Dance with you at home.

Sketch you in every notebook.

Take you to art galleries.

Make you part of every single dream he had.

If before he loved you in backstage shadows, afterward he’d make sure to place you in the light.

---

Han:

📌 Before the Serious Relationship — When Everything Was a Total Secret

Han has always been the type to hide everything behind a joke, and it was exactly like that with you in the beginning. He made a point of teasing you, calling you silly nicknames, and making up ridiculous stories just to hear you laugh. But his eyes gave him away.

Little by little, the late-night messages increased. He’d send you voice notes saying:

“Look at this lyric, it sounds like you.”

Your hangouts were chaotic and secret: random studio sessions, fast food runs at 2 AM, or anime marathons in his dark room.

Han tried to act like it was just friendship, but his jealousy gave him away. If another idol complimented you, he’d get visibly annoyed and cover it with a joke.

---

📌 How He Handled the Fear of Getting Caught

Han was terrified but also terrible at hiding it. He was paranoid about cameras and sharp-eyed fans, changed your contact name to something ridiculous like "Shrek" or "Corn Vendor Uncle" so no one would suspect.

He had a whole list of rules:

No pictures together.

No suspicious likes.

Pretend not to know you at events.

And still sent you messages like:

“Wish I could hug you right now, but I’ll just insult you in my head instead.”

---

📌 The Moments That Were Just Yours — When the World Didn’t Exist

When alone, Han became a different person. Sweet, clingy, unfiltered. He loved laying in your lap, stealing your food, and laughing until he cried with you.

He’d record silly songs with your name, make up ridiculous dances for just the two of you, and plan the most impossible things:

“When I’m a billionaire, I’ll buy an island for us and all the dogs.”

Serious talks came when he was feeling soft or exhausted:

“I’m scared of hurting you… or people hating you because of me.”

---

📌 The Day He Wanted to Make It Official (But Couldn’t)

One random day, Han pulled you aside and said:

“I wanna post a picture of you. I wanna hold your hand in the street.”

Then immediately went quiet, cracked a joke, and changed the subject. It was his way of saying he loved you.

---

📌 After the Relationship Went Public — By Choice or Through a Leak

When everything leaked, Han panicked. He was terrified about you getting hate and spent hours sending you apologetic messages.

Once things calmed down, he faced it head-on. He asked for fans’ respect, did a live explaining how important you were, and that he wasn’t going to give up.

He started slipping you into lyrics, dropping cheeky hints in interviews, and posting stories with inside jokes only you two would get.

---

📌 The Difference Between Before and After

Before: It was made of jokes, hidden messages, knowing looks, and teasing disguised as flirting. Han was chaotic, secret love.

After: It became security, public jokes, and real plans. He started including you openly and made protecting you a priority.

---

📌 What Life with the Fandom Was Like

Han would be sarcastic about it. He’d respond to haters with witty comments, defend you publicly, and make jokes out of uncomfortable situations.

He’d be endlessly grateful to supportive fans and show everyone how genuinely happy he was.

---

📌 The Kind of Partner He Would Be Officially

Playful and super affectionate.

Would write you silly songs.

Post ugly selfies of you just to annoy you.

Take you out for junk food.

Send memes at 4 AM.

Dream big and make wild plans.

Make you laugh even on the worst days.

If before he loved you behind jokes, afterward he’d make the whole world laugh along with you.

---

Felix:

📌 Before the Serious Relationship — When Everything Was a Total Secret

Felix has always had a huge heart and a warmth that lit up every room. With you, it was no different. From the start, he was attentive and sweet but careful, knowing exactly how risky it was to get involved.

He’d send you soft messages like:

“I saw a dessert at the store that reminded me of you.”

Your hangouts were calm, full of soft laughs and knowing looks. Hidden cafés, night walks, and video game sessions at his place.

Felix was the kind of person who fell in love while smiling. And you could tell.

---

📌 How He Handled the Fear of Getting Caught

Felix was terrified of you getting hurt — not by him, but by the public. He was the most cautious of them all, changing your name in his phone, avoiding even mentioning you to friends who didn’t know.

He asked you not to post anything suspicious and even set up secret signals:

“If I run my hand through my hair, it means you should leave the room.”

---

📌 The Moments That Were Just Yours — When the World Didn’t Exist

Felix was pure affection in human form. He hugged you so tight you’d lose your breath, baked you cakes even if he burned them, and made silly videos just for you.

He loved hearing your voice, resting his head in your lap, and calling you the most ridiculous nicknames:

“My little cookie.”

He’d tell you secrets, talk about his family in Australia, and plan impossible trips:

“One day, I’ll take you to stargaze in my mom’s backyard.”

---

📌 The Day He Wanted to Make It Official (But Couldn’t)

Felix was the one who considered going public the most. After a hard night, he hugged you and said:

“I just wish everyone knew how happy you make me.”

But he backed down out of fear of putting you in danger.

---

📌 After the Relationship Went Public — By Choice or Through a Leak

When it happened, Felix led with his heart. He cried during a live, asked fans for respect, and thanked those who supported him.

He started slipping you into his songs, posting photos of the cakes he baked you, and mentioning "someone very special" in interviews.

Your relationship became light and filled with quiet, public declarations.

---

📌 The Difference Between Before and After

Before: It was hidden hugs, sweet messages, and longing looks. Felix was gentle, protected love.

After: It became security, subtle public gestures, and obvious happiness. He loved you out loud.

---

📌 What Life with the Fandom Was Like

Felix was kind, patient, but firm. He ignored hate, thanked every supporter, and protected you with everything he had.

He respected fans but made one thing clear:

“If you love me, you have to respect who I love.”

---

📌 The Kind of Partner He Would Be Officially

Affectionate, protective, and endlessly sweet.

Would bake you cakes.

Send you kitten videos.

Hold your hand under the table.

Plan impossible trips.

Involve you with his family.

Take care of you on bad days.

If before he loved you in hidden smiles, after he’d make sure the whole world saw it.

---

Seungmin:

📌 Before the Serious Relationship — When Everything Was a Total Secret

Seungmin was always known for being calm, sarcastic, and hard to sway. But with you, it was different. He teased you more than anyone, but there was a quiet kind of care in everything he did.

Your conversations were full of irony, but underneath it, genuine concern:

“Go home before someone kidnaps you, idiot.”

Your hangouts were always simple — coffee shops near the dorm, grocery runs, empty parks. Nothing flashy. That was Seungmin’s way of keeping you safe.

He watched you more than he spoke. Little gestures — like dropping a jacket over your lap or sliding you chocolate without a word — said more than a thousand declarations.

---

📌 How He Handled the Fear of Getting Caught

Seungmin was the most discreet and strategic. He was terrified of causing problems for you, so he avoided mentioning you, staring too long, or even being in the same room with you when others were around.

Your name in his phone was saved as "Tech Support," and any soft messages were quickly deleted after reading.

"You’re not posting dumb stuff, are you?”

He was practical but affectionate in his own way.

---

📌 The Moments That Were Just Yours — When the World Didn’t Exist

When alone, Seungmin dropped the tough act. He became a sarcastic, clingy boyfriend.

He loved watching trash TV with you just to complain about it, stole your food without asking, and teased you endlessly just to see your annoyed face.

He gave you the dumbest nicknames and warned:

“Keep whining and I’ll kiss you.”

The serious talks came at night, when he got soft:

“If this blows up… will you hate me?”

---

📌 The Day He Wanted to Make It Official (But Couldn’t)

After a big performance one night, Seungmin pulled you aside and whispered:

“I wish everyone knew it’s you.”

But quickly pulled back. Seungmin was always rational, and fear won that time.

---

📌 After the Relationship Went Public — By Choice or Through a Leak

When everything got out, Seungmin handled it with the most maturity. He publicly asked for respect and made it clear he wouldn’t tolerate hate.

He was calm and direct in interviews, standing up for you with quiet, unshakable confidence.

He started posting photos of places you went together, mentioning "someone special" in subtle ways, and made sure you were part of his important moments.

---

📌 The Difference Between Before and After

Before: It was teasing, discreet looks, and sarcasm hiding affection. Seungmin was careful, restrained love.

After: It became security, subtle declarations, and constant protection. He loved you with intention.

---

📌 What Life with the Fandom Was Like

Seungmin would be firm. He’d ignore hate, reply with sarcastic humor, and make a point of appreciating anyone who respected you.

Big public declarations weren’t his style, but he’d show his love through actions.

“If you care about me, you’ll respect who I choose.”

---

📌 The Kind of Partner He Would Be Officially

Sarcastic, caring, and protective.

Watch bad shows with you.

Tease you nonstop.

Make jokes about your habits.

Involve you in his routine naturally.

Send you dumb memes.

Show love through simple, thoughtful gestures.

If before he loved you with silence and sly comments, afterward he’d protect and love you without fear.

---

Jeongin:

📌 Before the Serious Relationship — When Everything Was a Total Secret

Jeongin was always the guy who hid his feelings behind shy smiles and silly jokes. With you, it didn’t take long for something special to spark. He got flustered around you, made up dumb excuses to hang out, and blushed every time you touched him.

Your dates were simple: ice cream runs, video games, or park walks during odd hours. Jeongin made sure nothing looked suspicious, though his eyes always gave him away.

He’d send you messages like:

“Found a dumb puppy video and it reminded me of you.”

And then anxiously wait for your reply.

---

📌 How He Handled the Fear of Getting Caught

Jeongin was a mix of nerves and excitement. He was scared of the fandom, the hate, but deep down he just wanted to show the world he was in love.

He was paranoid about pictures, stories, and even places you went together. He saved your number as "TV Maintenance" and deleted any soft messages the second you read them.

“If anyone asks, say you’re my cousin.”

---

📌 The Moments That Were Just Yours — When the World Didn’t Exist

Jeongin was all affection. He loved clinging to you, watching anime cuddled up, secretly taking pictures and sending them to you later.

He’d hum songs softly just for you, and invent dumb challenges to see who could eat the most fries.

The serious talks always happened late at night:

“Do you think I’m good enough for you?”

He was honest, sensitive, and endlessly loyal.

---

📌 The Day He Wanted to Make It Official (But Couldn’t)

After one birthday party, Jeongin got emotional and almost posted a picture of you two. He didn’t only because Felix snatched his phone at the last second.

Deep down, he just wanted you to feel proud of being with him.

---

📌 After the Relationship Went Public — By Choice or Through a Leak

When everything came out, Jeongin freaked out. He sent you a million texts asking if you were okay, if you wanted to disappear, or if he should deny it all.

Once things settled down, he handled it with surprising maturity, asking for respect and making it clear he wasn’t letting go of you.

He started subtly mentioning you, posting soft photos, and saying he was the happiest he’d ever been.

---

📌 The Difference Between Before and After

Before: It was shy smiles, funny texts, and hidden affection disguised as jokes. Jeongin was innocent, secret love.

After: It became security, open affection, and careful, thoughtful gestures. He loved you out loud.

---

📌 What Life with the Fandom Was Like

Jeongin would be sweet but firm. He’d thank supportive fans, ignore haters, and constantly show how happy he was.

He’d say:

“If you like seeing me happy, respect the person who makes me happy.”

---

📌 The Kind of Partner He Would Be Officially

Sweet, shy, and affectionate.

Send you goofy photos.

Take care of you in little ways.

Call you by weird nicknames.

Share playlists with you.

Take you out for junk food.

Be your best friend and boyfriend at the same time.

If before he loved you behind jokes and flustered glances, afterward he’d love you publicly — and with undeniable pride.

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keigosdear · 9 months ago

Text

fem!reader, no physical descriptions. soft, fingering, allusions to future sex. very short <3

divider by @/cafekitsune

no thoughts just lazy make out sessions with keigo where one of hands finds it’s way in between your legs.

maybe it’s after a long patrol he wants to get off his mind, maybe it’s just a lazy sunday, but no matter the context, you don’t complain one bit.

you’re laying back on the bed in a tank top and some panties, keigo is on top of you, holding himself up with one arm and letting the other trail all over your body slowly and with no destination in mind.

he smiles a little against your lips when the hand he slips under your tank top gently grazes your skin and makes you giggle slightly. he’s sure to pull the top over your chest and without missing a beat, his hand is immediately all over the pillowy mounds.

he inhales your gasps as he thumbs at and pinches your nipples, devours your rising lust by trailing his hand down your body until it reaches your panties. you wrap your arms around his neck and lean up just as much as he’ll let you to keep him as close as possible.

slowly, his fingers begin teasing your covered pussy with the slightest amount of pressure. with a whine from you, he decides to slip his hand beneath the band and play with your clit.

slow, gentle circles from his semi-rough fingertips make it clear to you that his end goal isn’t to make you cum, but rather to make you feel good.

and god, are you feeling good.

he happily swallows any noises that spill from your lips with his kisses, languid and sloppy but full of love.

it feels like only seconds have passed until you’re wet enough for him to slip two fingers past your slit. you suck in a breath as he scissors them inside of you.

he smiles against your lips when he feels you clench around them, parting briefly to coo at you and remind you to relax a bit.

he doesn’t move fast, doesn’t immediately aim for the one spot that’ll drive you crazy, but the atmosphere you’ve both built mixed with how lazily he explores your inner walls has you whining and rolling your hips into his palm anyway.

“someone’s desperate,” he teases, nudging his nose against yours.

“keigo, please,” you beg, needing more than what he’s been offering.

he hums, pretends to think about it for a moment, before he’s angling his fingers just right and cranking up the dial of his thrusts from zero to one hundred.

it rips a high pitched cry of his name out of you, and you hear him snicker. “k-keigo!”

you grip his wrist hard enough for his hand to start tingling, but he feels your walls flutter more frequently and focuses solely on getting you off.

your moans only spur him on, so he kisses the sensitive spots on your neck and makes use of his thumb by rubbing your clit with just enough pressure to get you creaming around his digits.

your back arches as you cum. he slows his fingers a bit as he works you through it, before stopping completely. he readjusts and uses his free hand to pull your panties off completely.

he whistles at the sight of your slick folds and pulls his fingers out, meeting your eyes as he licks them clean. you turn your head and cover your face, but he makes a disapproving noise. “keep your eyes on me, sweets. I’m not done with you just yet.”

he lays down on his stomach and pulls your thighs over his shoulders. “I still need to clean you up, after all.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

hope you enjoyed :3

#keigo takami x reader #hawks x reader smut #hawks smut #takami keigo x reader #hawks x reader #bnha x reader

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trippinsorrows · 1 month ago

Text

truth

authors note: this one is pretty heavy and a hard read, but it's how cody reacts when he finds out the truth. again, a brutal read, but it's just what happens. again, you must read 'the space between us' to understand the context. 'stuck' is more optional, though insightful.

the space between us // stuck

words: 3.5k

warnings: angst and violence (strong, graphic violence against women)

One glance in the mirror, our eyes meeting, his darkening with something familiar—and unwanted—I already know what’s ahead. Or, what he’d like to be ahead.

My focus remains on removing my jewelry, starting with my earrings. Beautiful diamond studs he believed, or just assumed, were a gift I purchased for myself when in actuality they were gifts from Roman.

One of several I have in this house.

The minute he’s behind me, arms enveloping my body, settling on my stomach, I manage a small smile. “It’s been a long day.” My throat clears as his mouth drops to my neck. “I’m—I’m tired.”

Not an exact lie. It has been a long day, even though that’s not the sole reason I’m rejecting his advances for intimacy. An understandable “request,” given it’s been weeks since we had sex. Something he’s always seemed okay with given the nature of our union and my low sex drive. For him. It’s a low sex drive for him.

Not that he can ever know that.

“Went to the doctor today,” he speaks, lips to my neck. I’m thankful for the words, because they assist with a needed distraction from the feel of him on me. It’s not unpleasant or uncomfortable. Just wrong. Years of being with him has unfortunately made any other touch feel inadequate. Feel wrong.

“Oh?” I don’t have to feign interest in that. I may not love Cody, but that doesn’t mean I don’t care about him in the way humans should care for one another. “What—”

“They had to rerun some tests.”

It’s the word ‘tests’ that especially has my interest, my eyes on him through the vanity mirror in front of us. Watching as words are mixed in with cold kisses that pepper my exposed shoulder. “Tests? What kind of tests?”

It’s not as if we talk a ton, but I would like to think if something was going on with him, medically speaking, he would have said something.

So, why didn’t he?

He makes a sound, and it’s subtle, so subtle, but his arms around me start to tighten. Lightly but consistently. “Routine labs, but since I’m getting older, they also ran a hormonal panel.” I don’t say anything, just continue to watch him, my hands moving to his forearms. His grip suddenly something less sensual and more…something else.

Something unfamiliar.

And uncomfortable.

“Cody—”

“And those hormonal labs came back with extremely low numbers, so much so that my doctor ordered additional tests—”

His grip continues to tighten, my chest also starting to tighten at the combination of his words and his hold. “Cody, you’re hurting—”

“So, he did,” he carries on, one arm still enveloped around me, the other lifting as his hand flattens on the space of my chest, fingers spread. “And you know what those came back with?”

I can’t look away from him, utterly confused by where he’s going with this, along with why he’s touching me like this, only for him to drop the single most unexpected sentence I think I’ve ever heard in my entire life. “They said my sperm count came in at zero.”

It’s only then my weak attempts at freeing myself from him stop. My breathing stops. My thinking stops. My heart stops.

What?

Cody’s thin lips form into a small, innocent smile. “I told him that can’t be. There must have been some sort of mistake. I have two beautiful kids with my lovely wife.” His hand snakes up, resting comfortably and calmly on my neck, before applying just enough pressure to force my head to crane back. “So, he ran it again….same result.”

“Cody—”

“I thought perhaps something had happened over the past few years. That maybe my sperm count somehow depleted in that time since the twins were conceived, but he explained that I have a condition.” He chuckles, darkly, and it’s right then and there, I know, just know that nothing good is about to follow.

Nothing good at all.

“Azoospermia,” he pronounces it so carefully, enunciating each vowel, like he’s been practicing. Practicing for this very conversation. Or, confrontation. “And that it’s more likely than nit I was born with it, so you know what that means?” A sharp, pained gasp when his hand wraps around my neck. “That means I’m infertile. That I’ve always been infertile.”

Oh my God.

“Who’s the father, Solana?”

It’s strange. I’ve dreamt about this. Nightmares. Night terrors, even. What it would be like if someway, somehow, the truth made itself known. If all the dark, shameful things I’ve kept from my husband, at the top of that list, the true paternity of the kids, escaped to the light. Wondered what he would say, what he would do. What I would say. What I would do.

I just never, ever imagined it would happen like this.

Words are suddenly the most painful, impossible thing in the world.

“I—I—”

His smile widens. Sinister. He looks sinister. “I had a feeling you’d say that.”

My eyes double in size at the exact moment he yanks me up by my waist, dragging me towards our balcony. “Cody, wait—”

My weak attempts at prying his arms off of me, of pulling myself away from him are of no use. He drags my jerking and writhing body to the closed doors, managing to open one while still keeping his unrelenting grip on me. But, it’s not until we’re on said balcony, cool breeze whipping against my face and hair that I realize what’s happening.

Not until he starts trying to push me over said balcony that the horror of what’s occurring truly settles.

“No!”

Empty, soundless protests, my body flailing, feet struggling to stay planted on the ground, hands so tight around the railing of the balcony, I’m sure the pattern imprinted into the iron will be imprinted into my palms as well. “Cody, please!”

“Who is it!” He screams, continuing to engage in a form of psychological and actual torture, “forcing” my body over the ledge while also allowing me to remain on the tiles. “Who the hell have you been fucking, Solana!”

Angry, furious words of demand, tears spilling over and down my face, my heartbeat something in the danger range. The shock of it all, the unexpected nature of such a violent reaction, it all has me struggling to provide such a simple answer. That’s all he wants. An answer.

The truth.

But, the truth, though said to set people free, seems like the very thing that will damn me. That could tip him over the edge of sanity.

That would break him.

Except, it also seems like the only option I have when suddenly the connection between my feet and the flooring disappears, his strong grip leaning me more and more over the edge. “Tell me!”

And, it’s when I feel it, feel my weight primarily over the railing than not that I break, that I realize there is no escaping this. No running.

This is it.

“Roman!” I shout, heart and resolve breaking simultaneously. “It’s Roman!”

There’s a stillness. No longer that pressure of his firm hands pulling and pushing my body one way. His grip releases, and I waste no time in yanking back, stumbling onto the floor, hyperventilating.

The horror of it all settling in as I move my hands to my stomach.

My baby.

“You lying bitch.”

I can barely look up at him at such cold words when intense pain shoots through my face, my hand going to my jaw which feels like it’s just been hit with a block of cement. A short-term point of focus when Cody’s hand is back in my hair, gripping tightly and painfully as he starts dragging me back into our bedroom.

“Cody, no—” I’m silenced once more by another massive blow to my face, one that has my eyes blinking, my cognition disoriented and discombobulated.

“You disgusting whore!” Vision blurred, all I can make out is the unclear view of my vanity before he drags my face across it, items flying, splintering, sharp pain across my cheek followed up with a dull, heavy pain in my lower back where he stomps me, my body plopping to the floor. “I saved you and your pathetic family, and this is what you do!”

My body is on fire, screams tumbling out of my mouth as he continues to mercilessly punch, kick, and stomp me. “Stop, please!”

Again, pointless begging as I work to shield myself, in a fetal position, working to protect my core. My stomach.

My baby.

“I’ll kill you!” Chills. “I’ll kill you and him!” Another punch to the top of my head. He’s swinging and hitting at me wildly, barbarously, like he has no control over himself. Because he doesn’t. “I’ll kill all of you!” I faintly hear what sounds like a sort of sucking followed by a “pftt” sound. Spit. He’s spit on me. “You wanna be a fucking family with him? Then be a fucking family in death, bitch!”

That. That is the single moment that changes it all for me. It’s not about me. Not about the pain that wrecks through my entire body. The burning. The aching. The possible fractures and broken bones. The dizziness I’m struggling to fight, that threatens to carry me into unconsciousness. It’s the realization of what he’s saying. What he intends.

He’s not trying to hurt me.

He’s trying to kill me.

And after he’s done with me, he’ll go after Roman.

And after Roman….

No.

I can’t allow myself to even think about that. To even to think about the possibility of such an act. He couldn’t. He wouldn’t. They’re babies.

How could…..

But, that’s not something I can consider in this moment. Consider how much of this is Cody just spewing hatred and vitriol at a life shattering revelation. It doesn’t matter. It doesn’t matter, because if he can be violent with me, he can be violent with them. And, I can’t have that. I’m their mother. It’s my job to protect them.

And, I will.

But, I have to protect myself first in order to get to that point.

And the opportunity presents itself when he lifts my battered body and slams my back against the nearby dresser where items remain atop, one in particular catching my attention out the corner of my eye. His hands wrap around my neck, choking me, his deep blue eyes, dark, cold, unfeeling, as he watches almost with enjoyment as he works to end me. To end my life. My eyes clench shut, however, determination blooming to protect them, to protect my children. I lift my knee as hard as I can, Cody’s groan of pain conjoined with the release of his hands from around my neck. And, the second he’s doubled over, hands over his crotch, I reach for the stainless steel box on the dresser, a small but weighty trinket, and bash it across his head.

His body plops to the floor, one glance revealing he’s out cold. I gasp for breath, working to regulate my breathing while leaning down to lift his limp wrist. A pulse. Somewhat faint, but there.

That’s all I need to know.

Acting fully off of adrenaline, I grab my purse and stumble out of the room, forcing myself to make it down the hall to their rooms. Hitting the light switch near the door for Kaydence room, I’ve never been so thankful to see an empty bed.

She’s sleeping with her brother in his room.

Good. I can get them both at the same time. Rushing over to her closet, I rip it open and pull out her emergency bag. Bags that I made and packed for both the kids in the event of a home intruder. Things they could need and benefit from if we were stuck in the panic room for an extended period of time. If only I knew that said bags would be needed one day not to protect from outside danger, but the same danger that put them to bed not even an hour ago.

From within the home.

Her pink, sparkly bag swung over my shoulder, I make haste to Kaiden’s room, hitting the light switch that manages to stir but not wake Kaydence. The same can’t be said for Kaiden. He sits up almost immediately, as if already awake frowning, eyes widen. “Mommy, what’s wrong?” It’s only then that I briefly glance at myself in the mirror attached to his dresser.

Horrible.

I look horrible. Face swollen and bruised, my neck red and ruddy, the imprint of his hand from when he tried to choke me loud and visible. Blood drips from my scalp, down my face and onto my disheveled clothes. I look like I just survived a murder attempt.

Because, I did.

I did.

“I’m—I’m okay, baby. We’ve—we’ve gotta go.” It’s such a damn struggle to remain calm while everything within me screams and burns with rage and fear. To manage to grab his bag from his closet as well, moving over to the bed, gently shaking Kaydence. “W—wake up.”

Kaiden’s sniffling from next to me kills me. “Mommy...”

“It’s okay,” I try to comfort him, using the sleeve of my shirt to dap away the blood. "I'm—I'm okay."

Kaydence blinks while sitting up, rubbing at her eyes, a similar expression dawning across her sleepy face when she sees me. “Mommy—”

“We’ve gotta go now,” I stress, reaching over and lifting her out of bed. I look over at Kaiden, reaching for his hand. “Come on, baby.”

“What’s going on?” Kaydence is the one to ask as I somehow manage holding the bags and Kaydence, all the while with my hand never unclasping from around Kaiden.

It's the hardest thing in the world to keep from breaking down in front of them. “Bad—bad people tried to hurt mommy, and—and they’re gonna hurt you, too, so we have to go somewhere safe—”

Kaydence starts to cry while Kaiden remains uncharacteristically quiet. Or, perhaps, it’s just the shock of the most unexpected of situations.

I can understand that better than anyone.

“Where’s daddy?”

I freeze in the middle of the doorway, unsure just how I tell my children daddy is the danger we’re trying to escape.

��I—I don’t know.” A horrible answer, I’m sure, but it’s the best I have in this moment.

It’s all I have.

Continued sniffling, confusion, and crying as I manage to get us all to my Range Rover, hurriedly buckling the kids in, all the while looking over my shoulder, as if expecting and preparing Cody to come and finish the job.

To finish me.

And then….

Silent tears spill down my face the entire time, trembling hands starting the car as I rush out of the garage and speed down the driveway, out onto the main road.

“Were are we going, mommy?” Kaiden asks, a glance at them through my rearview mirror reveals the two of them holding hands. They’re holding hands.

God.

What have I done?

Kaiden's question is a valid question I didn’t think about until this very moment. Just where are we going? My first thought is my mom. It makes the most sense.

That’s why I can’t go there.

Cody will know that’s where I would think to go, and I don’t have a doubt in my mind he would show up.

And, I can’t bring this….mess to my mom’s house.

Can’t put her in danger.

Even if…if she already is.

Still, there’s only one safe place for us right now. A place where Cody, even with all his rage, could never reach us, even if he tried. Would be killed on the spot.

Roman.

We’re going to Roman’s house.

"Somewhere safe, babies."

Roman.

The same man at the center of all of this, the man whose mere existence rages Cody like no other person, brings out the worst in him.

Or, maybe that’s me now, because in all the years I’ve known Cody, that I’ve been with him, I’ve never known him capable of such….violence. He’s always been a man of carefully chosen words and sharp instinct, and I’ve never been naive enough to believe a mafia boss incapable of violence.

I just never thought him capable of violence with me.

With them.

And yet…..a part of me, some small, maybe unhealthy, illogical part of me understands it. Understands why Cody reacted so brutally. To find out the way he did that Kaydence and Kaiden are not his biological children is one thing. To find out their biological father is the man he hates most in this world, the man responsible for the grisly murders of his family, once a friend, now forever a foe, is…is different.

Much different.

It was too much. The human brain was only made and intended to process and compute so much, and even Cody, with all of his intelligence, could not handle such a truth. It broke him.

I broke him.

Which is why he tried to break me.

And while I might feel different when the shock wears off….I get it.

I drove him to this point.

I did this.

The blame can only go towards the person in the mirror.

It’s a crushing thing that sits with me, weighs me down, distracts me from my pain. That along with my babies who continue to sit in the backseat, confused and crying, clearly worried about me.

I did this.

Three words that stick to me, circle in my head like a bad song on repeat, even as I arrive at Roman’s place, security at the gate letting me through without even stopping me. As per usual. But, it’s only when I pull up in front of the house, the twins questions transitioning into “where are we, mommy?” that the logical part of my brain takes a backseat for something completely opposite, completely different. Grueling, confusing, and so much heavier.

Feelings.

I start to feel.

The gravity of it all, the implications and outcome of such a devastating, life-changing night. The pain that soars through my body, blood that continues to stain and drench my shirt.

I’m feeling it all.

But, nothing can prepare me for the feelings that surge and rush the minute Roman rips open the door, his eyes widening at the sight of me. And, the kids. There’s a lingering glance on them, between the both of them, children he hasn’t seen in years but asks about all the time. Supports in the only ways he can with gifts during major life events like birthdays and holidays like Christmas and Easter. Children who share his DNA. His bloodline.

There’s such an influx of emotions present in his expression, but it’s something he clearly catches as he focuses back on me. A few emotions outshouting others.

Confusion.

Shock.

Fear.

Kaydence and Kaiden cling to either side of me, as I finally find words to share. “We…we had nowhere…nowhere to go…” I don’t know what it is, the adrenaline that fueled and enabled me to get my babies out of that house and to somewhere safe. Being in front of Roman who’s always, in the most ironic of ways, made me feel the safest. Or, perhaps a combination of it all. Regardless, something comes over me. All of it. The extent of Cody’s attack, physically and emotionally, smashing and shattering into me. My body sways forward, Roman easily catching me as Kaiden and Kaydence cry out.

“Mommy!”

I hear them. I do, but it’s all so distorted and almost distant. I hear Roman shout out for someone to call Michaels. His long-term doctor.

“Please, mister, you gotta help her!”

“Yeah, mommy’s hurt really bad!”

I’d take an endless amount of Cody’s fists to my face if that meant never again having to hear my children beg and plead, so terrified and desperate for help as Roman carries me into the house. They don’t deserve this.

Any of it.

Something soft underneath, his sofa. A place I’ve sent so much time on, in so many different ways, but not like this.

Never like this.

My vision remains blurred, the fight with staying awake and conscious a losing one, but one I continue to stay in, nonetheless.

“Baby.” Roman’s voice, the most calming thing right now. His hand pushing back the hair that clings to my face, wet and caked with blood, some old, some new. “Baby, look at me.” I feel him take my hand at the same time I overhear a familiar voice.

Naomi.

I hear Naomi, soft and soothing. The kids. She’s talking to the kids. If not for the situation, for the pain that rakes through me, exploring every inch of my body, I might laugh.

Not even two weeks ago, spending the day out with the twins, I’d run into her. The first time we’d spoken in years. Since college, I believe. It was the first time she’d met the twins. I still remember the peculiar look she gave them initially. Like, she was studying them. Like she knew.

And, if she didn’t then. She does now.

“Solana.” Roman’s deep voice brings me back to him, tears intensifying the blur of my vision. “Who did this to you?”

In theory, a simple question. There’s only one answer, but it’s an answer I can’t say. Not with the kids present. They can’t know.

They can never know.

So, I give him the only answer I can. One that protects my babies but also warns Roman that anything and everything about us, about them, is about to change.

Forever.

It’s the last thing that leaves my mouth, the sound of my children’s voice and Roman’s concerned gaze and gentle touch the parting gifts before I succumb to darkness. “He knows.”

#roman reigns fanfiction #roman reigns fanfic #roman reigns fic #roman reigns #arisnotebook

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nvxzaa · 3 months ago

Text

── .✦ Half words

Pairing : ¡idol!Lee know x ¡idol!Reader

Word : 684

Genre : fluff

Warning : none

For nine months, Minho and YN had been living the perfect love story... in silence.

No public meetings, no inappropriate gestures behind the scenes, and even less visible interaction online. They were sworn to secrecy. Their agencies were strict, the contracts clear: zero rumors. So they loved each other through the gaps, the stolen glances backstage, the coded messages at 3 a.m., and the little objects they left each other by way of presence.

That evening, Minho was live on Instagram with his fans. He was talking about his day, the last rehearsal with his band, while nibbling snacks on his sofa. Nothing out of the ordinary, until his wrist spent a little too long in front of the camera.

A black, braided bracelet, decorated with small golden pearls. And on one of them... the initials Y.L.

The comments exploded:

"What kind of bracelet is that? YN as in... YN?"

"Has he ever worn it?"

"I swear she had one just like it..."

The next day, unsuspecting of the online uproar, YN logged on in turn for a live stream on Weverse. She was laughing, her hair tied back in a fuzzy bun, a black scrunchie holding back her rebellious locks. A fan zooms in. Her bracelet slips off her sleeve. Same model. Same pearls. M.L.

Within hours, the most attentive fans were diving into the archives.

An oversized gray sweater that Minho had worn to a vlog a few weeks earlier? YN had it on his shoulders backstage three days later.

A blurry story of Minho from behind, in a discreet café? Same chair, same cup, same green plant behind YN two days later.

A black velvet scrunchie Minho wore around his wrist during a concert... then around YN's ponytail during an interview.

A Twitter thread was born:

"Minho x YN: coincidences or confirmation?"

With dozens of pieces of evidence lined up like a puzzle that the two idols thought they were hiding.

And in the middle of it all, a comment that perfectly summed up the gist of the story:

"If they've managed to hide this from us for so long, it's because they really care about each other."

The rumors didn't die down. On the contrary, every public appearance by Minho or YN was scrutinized. Yet instead of frightening them... something changed between them.

They stopped hiding.

Not abruptly, not obviously either. But their messages became more direct. Less coded. And when they got together, even for a few hours between two crazy schedules, they didn't waste a minute.

One evening, in a private studio rented by their trusted staff, they found themselves sheltered from the world, their hearts pounding, their fingers entwined.

- Don't you regret it?" asked YN, his voice a little fragile. I mean... if it all blows up.

Minho took a step closer and pressed his forehead to hers.

- You know what I'd regret? Loving you in silence all my life.

She smiled softly, her eyes shining.

- It's so dramatic.

- It's me," he replied with a wink.

They knew it was no longer just a game of discretion. They were a team, an invisible but solid bond that withstood outside pressure. And even if the agencies were already whispering warnings, they would keep going. Together.

Their fans, meanwhile, seemed... divided. But a good number were beginning to sneak up on them.

One fan-account went viral after posting:

"Look at them. They've never been so bright. Frankly, I want them to be happy. Whether they're together or not. But if they are together... then so much the better."

Then, one evening, without warning, YN posted a story.

No picture of them. Just a photo of their two bracelets, lying side by side on a wooden table, in a golden light. In the background, a soft song. The lyrics read, "if the world finds out, at least we loved without lying."

She didn't tag anyone. Not a word. Not an explanation.

But this time, they stopped trying to calm the storm.

Minho re-shared the story. Just with an emoji: "..."

And that was enough.

Masterlist

#skz #skz stray kids #skz x reader #x yn #stray kids #lee know x y/n #lee know skz #lee know x reader #lee know #skz minho #stray kids minho #minho

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ladykailitha · 5 months ago

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Murder in the Heartland Part 1

Here it is, the most wonderfully insane idea I've ever come up with and I've had some whoppers (Steve in a mental institution and Vecna's Timeloop from Hell for example). This is still the wildest. Only that's a twist that's coming up way down the line. My wonderful discord peeps @forgottenkanji, @dreamercec, @bookworm0690 know all, but you'd have to join my discord to be in on the secret (there are other lurkers there who might know, but they might not *shrug*).

Summary: When a serial killer strikes Hawkins, the police zero in on Eddie Munson. But when the last would-be victim Robin Buckley says that it Jason Carver who was trying to kill her and not Eddie, the police are further put in their place by an anonymous tipper who did all the work they should have done instead of going after clearly innocent Eddie. So Eddie becomes a PI to find this anonymous tipper. Featuring Mystery Writer Steve, who will play into the later plot. ;)

You will see snippets of Steve as the story goes on, but it will be Eddie's story for about 2/3 of it. It is also set in canon time for reasons that will become clear as the story goes on.

Interviewer: I’m here with Steve Harrington who has put just put out his seven novel in the thrilling Joe Keery books, ‘The Hollow Promise’. How are you this morning?

Steve chuckled: I’m tired. I’m a writer, I spend all my nights writing and my days sleeping, so this is a little outside my normal waking hours.

Interviewer: Gosh I wish I could do that, but I chose to have a morning talk show instead. Won’t you tell the listeners about your latest book.”

Steve: It’s about a series of murders in a small town and our hero comes to town to investigate and finds a bigger mystery than he anticipated.

Eddie’s life went to hell the day Steve Harrington blew town. Not that he would find that out until years later. But then again people were more preoccupied with Robin Buckley swearing up and down that Jason Carver who had been trying to kill her and not Eddie than remember a kid being thrown out of his parents place for being gay so... yeah.

Well, okay, so his life had been hell a little bit before Steve blew town. But that wasn’t as interesting an opening as the day Steve blew town. So he still had a flare for the dramatic, sue him. After all it was that flare that made him become a private investigator in the first place.

When Chrissy Cunningham had been murdered just after Eddie dealt her Special K, that made him the prime suspect in her death.

Which, rude.

She had been dealing with some pretty fucked up shit. Like being queer in a small town levels of shit on top of her mom being constantly on about her weight and her boyfriend pressuring her wear a promise ring. In high school.

Then another student died. A boy on the basketball team, Patrick McKinney, who someone else claimed had bought steroids off Eddie. Which couldn’t have been true, not if it was performance enhancing drugs. He had offered to sell them to high schoolers when he first started dealing, but Rick assured him he already had someone for that.

Then another girl died. Someone Eddie hadn’t known. He knew of her. But she wasn’t even in any of his classes, in any of his senior years. She also didn’t do drugs. Hell, Molly Masters was a known Straight Edger. She wouldn’t have gone near Eddie unless she wanted to throw hands.

Which is why he was blamed for her death, actually. They insinuated that she had finally had enough of his drug dealing ways and had gone after him.

He even had an alibi for that one, not that it mattered. Playing in front of five random drunks and a stingy ass bartender wasn’t exactly as air tight as it could have been. Because as far as witnesses go, they were pretty shit.

Then Barb Holland died. And that was a kick in the teeth. He knew who she was but only in a tenuous ‘best friend of the girlfriend of the most popular boy in school’ kind of way. Eddie was starting to see the pattern, even if the cops didn’t.

Then the final one which ended in the death of Jason Carver, Chrissy’s boyfriend. Only Robin Buckley was still very much alive.

But for the those first three days, she was in a coma. So the police spun the narrative that Eddie had been trying to kill her when Jason had interrupted them; saving her life, but losing his in the process.

Until she woke up and blew the whole investigation out of the water.

“I’m telling you Jason Carver was trying to kill me,” she said for the tenth time to a motley crew of Hopper, Powell, and Callahan from her hospital bed.

“Now why would he go and do a thing like that for?” Powell huffed. “Jason was a good, upstanding young man. Captain of the basketball team. He loved Chrissy. He wouldn’t hurt her. Not for anything.”

Robin let out a long sigh of frustration and buried her head in her hands. She looked up at them, weighing her options before she finally snapped, “Because I’m a lesbian!”

They stared at her blankly.

“Apparently Chrissy was too and that’s why he killed her.”

“You telling me that Jason Carver, all American boy next door was a murderer killing queer kids?” Callahan huffed in disbelief. “There’s no way.”

“And I’m telling you it’s true,” Robin hissed. “Plus whoever saved my life and killed the rat bastard wasn’t Eddie Munson.” She crossed her arms over her chest and settled into the bed, grumpy.

Hopper pinched his nose. “Let’s say we follow this line of inquiry, why do you believe Eddie Munson wasn’t involved at all. You keep saying you never saw your rescuer’s face.”

She looked up at him like he was stupid. “Because the guy that took the bat to Jason’s head was wearing a short sleeve shirt.”

The cops all looked at each other in confusion.

Robin threw her arms up in the air. “No tattoos, assholes! Eddie very famously has bats on his...” she looked at her own arms for a second, “right forearm. And whoever this Jesus with a bat was, he didn’t have any tattoos on his arm.”

“Robin!” her mother admonished. Melissa Buckley was there to ensure that the police didn’t try and twist Robin’s words into saying something that wasn’t true.

Robin just shrugged, unrepentant. They were being assholes and someone should tell them to their faces.

“Well, shit!” Powell snapped, throwing his hands into the air in frustration. “If it wasn’t Eddie then who the fuck was it?”

Just then the door to Robin’s room burst open, startling all those inside. Officer Glenn Daniels came running up to Chief Hopper, a large envelope in his hands.

“Florence got this this morning,” Daniels said, panting for breath. “And we wanted to verify its authenticity before bringing it to you. So me and couple of the other officers looked into it.”

Hopper opened the envelope, his eyes growing wider the more and more he looked through it. “And how much it of is accurate?”

“All of it.”

“There is no way,” Hopper growled, slamming the envelope on Powell’s chest. “No evidence is that air tight. There must be some kind mistake or error in there somewhere.”

Powell took the envelope and looked down into it. His eyebrows shot up. “There are actual fucking writings by Carver in here. Where the hell did they find those?”

Daniels just shook his head. “Whoever found this shit was meticulous. There are no other fingerprints than Jason’s on anything. But there is a letter.”

Powell went searching through the envelope and pulled it out, handing it to the Chief, who read it, mumbling to himself.

“Well, as much as I would like to say the bastard is wrong,” Hopper said with a resigned sigh. “He’s not. Or she or whatever. They’re not wrong. The victims wouldn’t have gotten justice, not with them being queer. Jason would have been lauded a hero and paraded in the streets for taking out the trash.”

“‘To the police,” Powell read out loud. “I am sending you all the evidence you failed to collect when you were too busy trying to pin these murders on an innocent man. It didn’t take a lot to realize the true connection the victims had. I’m just sorry I was too late to save Molly Masters. She didn’t deserve to die in that horrible way.

“Once I figured out who it was, I knew that there would be no justice for these kids. Not when Jason Carver was who he was, and why he was killing his peers. So I quietly compiled all the evidence I could. His journals. His distinct lack of alibis for any of the murders. His emotional connection to the first victim, his girlfriend, Chrissy Cunningham.

“I’m just glad I was able to stop him from killing that final girl. But if she did die later, I hope Carver rots in the hell of his own making. No one deserves to die because of who they love.

“-Jason’s Executioner.”

“Well, that ain’t creepy as shit,” Callahan said sarcastically. “Well it’s not as though we could have used any of this evidence anyway.”

“And when is Eddie Munson being released?” Melissa huffed, pulling herself up to her nearly six feet of height.

Hopper blinked at her for a moment. “I’m not sure I understand the question, ma’am.”

“That boy is innocent!” Melissa said sternly. “And what? You’re going to just sweep this all under the rug and leave Jason Carver’s reputation intact?”

“That’s not what I said,” Hopper replied, low and dangerous. ��And I don’t appreciate you putting words into my mouth.”

Melissa crossed her arms over her chest and stared him down.

“He is innocent of the murders, yes,” he said, “but he still sold an underaged girl ketamine. And last time I checked that was still very much against the law.”

“I don’t believe you actually have proof of that,” Melissa said with a winning smile.

“He confessed,” Powell said in confusion. “We have it on record of him confessing to selling the drugs.” He put his hands on his hips. “There’s no way he’s not going away for the drugs.”

“Under duress,” Melissa said smugly. “Which any lawyer worth his salt will get tossed out in a heartbeat. You have nothing on the boy and you know it.”

Robin grinned up at her. “Isn’t she so cool? And she’s my mom!”

“Stop calling him a boy!” Callahan hissed. “He’s twenty! He knew full well what he was doing and I’m not going to stand here and let you pretend otherwise.”

Melissa scoffed, eyeing him up and down with a raised eyebrow. “I’d call your dog to heel there, Chief, we wouldn’t want me to scream police intimidation, now would we?”

“Don’t make me arrest you, Mel,” Hopper growled. “Again.”

Melissa grinned up at the chief. They had been on very opposite sides of the Vietnam War. Him having been in the army and her having been in the protests against the War. Hawks and Doves.

“And just what would be the charge this time, Chief?” she asked with a wink.

Hopper squeezed his eyes closed and then opened them slowly. He let out a long exasperated sigh. “Eddie Munson will be released without charges by the end of today.”

But before his underlings could protest he held up his hands. “It’s either release him and sweep under the rug that some rank amateur or we don’t release him and Melissa here goes to the press about how we put away an innocent man and get the national media up in our business.”

They stared at him for a moment before they grumbling agreed. Hopper bid the Buckleys goodbye and then led his officers out the room.

So how did Eddie know all this? He talked to Hopper, Daniels and the Buckleys and while some details varied they pretty much confirmed that how it went down and how Eddie got out on a ‘technicality’ as the cops were calling it.

When he stepped out into the fresh air outside of the jail with Wayne waiting for him, he took a deep breath and let it go.

“I don’t know how you can stand living in this hell hole,” he groused as he hopped into Wayne’s truck.

“Can’t afford to leave,” Wayne huffed and started the truck. “If I could scrape up the money to get out of here, I would and I’d take you with me.”

Eddie gave his uncle’s shoulder a squeeze. “Maybe I’ll be able to get a job and get enough money for both of us out.”

“If wishes were horses,” Wayne said ruefully as he pulled out into traffic. “I’m just glad you were released without charges.”

“You and me both, old man,” Eddie huffed. “I was sure I was going to be Reading, Pennsylvania, Short Line and B&O railroaded.”

“Good thing Melissa Buckley was there when they interrogated her daughter,” Wayne growled. “Or you might still be sitting in that cell.”

“I hope you sent her flowers,” Eddie said. “She certainly deserves it.”

“Delilahs and some of my grandma’s shortbread,” Wayne confirmed. “I even offered to help out any handwork they may need in the future too. And if I were you I’d offer your way around an engine too.”

Eddie saluted. “Aye, Aye!”

Wayne snorted. “If the way she tells it is true, some rookie wannabe detective is the one that provided the most damning evidence against that Carver kid.”

“Wouldn’t surprise me,” Eddie said with a snort. “These backwater cops wouldn’t know their ass from their elbow.”

“Still it makes you wonder who it was...” Wayne said softly as they turned into the trailer park.

“It certainly does that,” Eddie agreed. “It certainly does that.”

Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12

I am ridiculously pleased with the railroad joke. It still makes me smile every time.

Tag List: TEN SLOTS OPEN

1- @itsall-taken @estrellami-1 @zerokrox-blog @sadisticaltarts @dolphincliffs

2- @gregre369 @a-little-unsteddie @irregular-child @cryptid-system @kultiras

3- @maya-custodios-dionach @goodolefashionedloverboi @val-from-lawrence @carlyv @wonderland-girl143-blog

4- @bookbinderbitch @bookworm0690 @forgottenkanji @dreamercec @blondie1006

5- @yikes-a-bee @awkwardgravity1 @genderless-spoon @fearieshadow @thesecondfate

6- @dragonmama76 @ellietheasexylibrarian @thedragonsaunt @useless-nb-bisexual @disrespectedgoatman

7- @counting-dollars-counting-stars @tinyplanet95 @ravenfrog @swimmingbirdrunningrock @lingeringmirth

8- @gutterflower77 @a-lovely-craziness @just-a-tiny-void @w1ll0wtr33 @beelze-the-bubkiss

#my writing #stranger things #steddie #ladykailitha writes #mystery writer steve harrington #private investigator eddie munson #white knight steve harrington #actually billy hargrove friendly #are you as shocked as I am?

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bunicate · 2 years ago

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⋆⁺₊❅⋆ 𐙚 ₊˚ BY YOUR SIDE . pierro x fem reader

warning ꒱ྀི incest. ddlg dynamics. daddy kink [ papa + dada ] . size kink. creampie. reader kinda being a litl brat / repost / unedited as always :p / wc ꒱ 2.5k / 18+ / ♡ + ↻ are rlly appreciated ! !

there’s the faintest, most desperate echo of a mewl that can be heard from outside the biggest room reserved for no one other than the first harbinger himself.

fourteen days he was away from you. fourteen days without your touch. fourteen days he was unable to see you. fourteen days without inhaling your scent. fourteen long, bitter, cold days pierro spent missing you and still, finally graced with your presence, he’s as composed as ever.

he leans until his back hits his chair, and he relaxes. with his half-empty wine glass discarded on a nearby tray, he eases himself down from his budding desire with deep and steady inhales and exhales. his eyes are clouded over with lust.

the level of patience pierro possessed was carefully crafted throughout the many years he’s been alive. his resilience has never been more clear than it is right now, as his daughter, whom he loves so dearly, clamored over him half-naked.

he found your struggle to be quite a show. chin resting on calloused fingers, he occasionally rubs the scruff of his stark white beard. It’s become habitual for you to crawl and seat yourself on his thick thighs. pouty and close to tears, your fingers claw at his polished suit to steady yourself.

he’s always been the one to take the lead, but he’s forfeited that control momentarily, allowing you to use him to your heart's content.

your chest bares from the looseness of your clothes, and his facade slips only slightly. your hips swivel clumsily, and his erect cock bounces off the plumpness of your butt. he releases a breath he didn’t realize he was holding.

you raise your bottom higher, placing his cock right against your wet slit that stained the coarse hairs at the base of his shaft. his body tenses at the contact, his eyes zeroing in on the pretty sheen that coated his remarkable length.

“hnnn.”

a strangled moans escape when it skims over the surface of your twitchy button—a gentle caress with enough pressure to make your back arch.

it was difficult prepping yourself for the first time, but you refused his help. you were like him in so many ways. you’re a creature constantly chasing perfection. one attempt after the other until you’d be rewarded with what your efforts promised, but pierro just didn’t want to see you hurt.

“take it easy, little one.”

his hand cups the softness of your ass, lightly squeezing it. you shake your head. brows pulled together and lips trembling as the drag of your cunt wets him further.

he expected you to behave like this.

a recent conflict pulled him away longer than he expected, and he knows that in his absence, you were unsatisfied. your fingers are not nearly as thick and long as his to ease that ruminating ache between your legs, but he was here now to finally take over, and you wouldn’t let him.

holding your chin, he tilts your head up. you see the concern sewn into his mature features.

“I'm not going anywhere; you don’t need to rush.” it’s a very simple affirmation, but it did nothing to relieve your troubles.

‘liar’ you want to retort, but you choose to remain silent. the truth is, he couldn’t promise that. you knew he’d leave again, and each time you were never sure if he’d return. how you managed to have such little faith in a man who’s lived nearly half a millennia and witnessed such catastrophes was unheard of.

to others, he’s feared—untouchable, unscathed, a force to be reckoned with, but somehow a much smaller and weaker girl— his girl worries for him dearly. It's humorous, but he could never, in good faith, hold it against you. It's been too long since he’s felt the delicate touch of another and to be looked after with such care. he’d readily take as much as he could.

you put your hand on his shoulder, and the other grabs his cock by the thickest part as it comes to life in your palm. it’s warm and beads pre-cum that slowly drips, following the path of his most protruding vein. there’s a feeling that shoots through your body, and it’s all too familiar as you watch the milky drops descend.

you have to bite back another broken moan.

hovering over his dick, you cushion it right against your entrance, swaying from the slight loss of balance. finding your footing, you try once again to tuck him between your walls, but the leakiness of your cunt makes the head of his cock slip. your frustration was an understatement.

pierro watched you closely as you moved sloppily. stuck in a mulish state, you’d rather fumble instead of asking for his help.

“you’re going to hurt yourself, love,” he remarks. while aroused by the brief contact of skin, pierro remained humbled at your show of defiance.

you make a noise, brushing off his concern and rolling your shoulders to straighten up.

“don't care, ‘need to have you inside of me.”

you huff your chest every time his smooth tip rubs your slippery opening. tracing it against the silky folds of your cunt, they separate as you struggle to insert him. you begin to brace yourself. it only takes a few more shaky attempts until his cock finally penetrates with a swift and brutal plunge.

“hmmph—!”

you can’t stop twitching around him when he’s buried so deep. your head hangs back, and your bit lip is barely enough to keep the hiss at bay. no amount of rubbing against his thigh could ever prepare you for that piercing stretch that churned your insides. the stretch that forces your legs further apart and makes your eyes tighten in desperation.

your stomach flexes, and anxiety wrecks you. you breathe audibly, finding it in yourself to remain calm, but archons — you were a few thrusts from already cumming.

“do you need papa to help you ?”

his voice stirs you from concentration, and it borders on breaking.

pierro would be a liar if he said watching you take him didn’t bring a sense of triumph. riding him was no easy task. even after countless nights and all sorts of positions, his girth still proved to be a challenge, one that would take a lifetime for you to master, and that was one of the few things he could actually promise you, time.

but you ignore him and the concern in his tone. you’re a big girl, you don’t need his help. you’ll have all of him inside of you even without the wonderful burn of his fingers to help loosen your gummy walls.

you inhale slowly hoping that it will somehow allow the tension to subside and it does. it takes a minute, maybe two until the pressure feels comfortable. you’re still not quite all the way down, there’s another few centimeters left until he’s fully sheathed inside your walls. you’ve been resting your weight on your toes that dangled close to the floor and you know you should in fact take your time, but your body refuses to cooperate.

it's a wet plop from your thighs and ass meeting his groin when you force him in.

“h-hah—!“

pierro’s cock sharply hits your precious cervix and your eyes reel back into your skull. your daddy pats your leg encouragingly. even now he could barely fathom how such a small pussy could be so accommodating.

“there you go.”

inevitably, the praise still made your chest feel heavy. “that’s it, sweet girl.” that baritone voice made blood rush to your cheeks. lightheaded is what you felt. all the fire you once possessed turned into a lovesick, numbing feeling that left you unable to retain any air. especially when he adjusted his hips and his veiny cock bumped your cervix once more.

“ah— f-fuck!” you whine.

the hand on your thigh squeezes your softness as a warning.

“language.”

you're winded up so tight, afraid that if you moved an inch, you’d cum. the tears that brimmed your waterline fall.

“s-sorry papa.” you sniffle, “but it’s so deep, n’ I feel it stretching inside me.”

“does it hurt?" he hums. “would you like to stop?”

you shake your head profusely.

“no! please, I don’t wanna stop, not yet.”

unwilling to be separated from him, you lean on his chest. it’s warm and reminds you that you couldn’t be anywhere safer. slowly, you begin to ride his cock. a messy rhythm that did enough to please you.

his dick presses against your insides as your hips rotate in sloppy circles. your clit brushes against his skin with every move, pulling you closer to the end you missed so desperately.

you speed up, chasing that feeling selfishly until it grows and becomes too powerful to control.

“daddy . . .” you try to halt your hips, but you can’t stop the desperation. you settle for slowing down even more, but it only seems to drag the pleasure out further.

“I might make a mess” you mumble. you tuck yourself closer to his chest again to escape the burning flush of embarrassment.

pierro knows your body better than you do and even before your own realization, he was able to quickly assess your expression and feel how your cunt pulses around him. he understands what’s happening before you do.

“just focus on me. focus on papa.”

you nod.

it takes a moment to get the courage to move faster, but his cock nestling in your cunt couldn’t placate you. your humps pick up, and your thinking crumbles to know people stood less than 10 feet away, walking past the room. knowing they could possibly be hearing the moist noises of your cunt while you fucked him sloppily. the nervousness wasn't present; instead, a sweltering, mind-breaking urge grew. one that turns your stomach into knots and makes your your knees dig into his hips

“let it out, my dear.”

your legs lock around him, and a disgruntled groan leaves his lips as your pussy clenches.

“daddy. ” your nails scratch him, but he doesn’t flinch nor shy away. his hardened skin from years of ruthless battles could surely withstand the dig of his daughter's nails.

with a petulant whine and submissive arch of your back, your pillowy breasts block his vision while you seize around him. clenching and unclenching, arousal streams down his massive cock and sprays his front in spurts. your hand comes to rub at your clit to ride out the addicting high.

pierro could only watch in awe. how quick and easily you came to make his shaft throb to the beat of dull and erratic twinges.

“pretty girl, you’re going to make this old man faint.”

he presses a kiss on your nipple, holding you while your cunt continues to milk him. he hasn’t yet reached his own high and still he makes no effort to rush your come down. he’s far from a selfish lover, but that was something that came naturally as it’s his job as your father to make sure you are pleased in all aspects.

pierro’s cock remained snuggled inside of you. he pressed light kisses on your skin, as your breathing slows. before you can lose yourself in it, the scratch of his beard makes you pull away. turning up your nose, you make a noise of disapproval.

“you need to shave, daddy.”

he rubs his chin to feel his beard himself. it has been a while since he’s given it a trim. “you don’t like it?”

you take a second to think, staring at the thick gray covering the lower half of his face. “that depends. can I shave it for you?”

his eyes widen a bit, and his head turns away. “that’s . . . dangerous.”

you frown. “then no, I don’t like it.”

pierro laughs, and he rubs the sides of his face against your soft cheek, the hair of his beard uncomfortably prickling your face.

“w-what, what are you doing?” the scratches against your face mushed you two closer. his nose and lips poking you until your lips clumsily collide.

“papa, stop!” giggling, you push him away, but he holds you still. the kiss is uncoordinated at first because of your laughs, but he doesn’t mind it. one peck and then another until your lips are interlocked, moving at a slow pace that manages to steal your breath.

he groans when you move closer, and he guides your hips, hoping to drag more moans out for the rest of the night. feeling his cock throb, you remember he didn’t finish, but it didn’t take long to transition from the playful atmosphere to what it was once prior. the arousal was now thick in the air, weighing you down into submission.

your father picks you up with ease and fucks you like a toy. rough hands resting on your hips drag you up and down on his cock. the schlick schlick of his cum-coated length, plunging so deeply until it kisses your womb.

“cum inside me, d-dada, use me. use me to make you cum.”

“keep talking like that, baby; daddy is so close.” your pussy puffs from his slams. how something so small can manage to swallow his sheer size amazes him. balls slap against your ass, his grip on your body is tight, digging into you, and such a display of strength it was.

“y’r so deep. . my cunny was made for you.” the words are uttered in pauses from the force of his motioning hips. your tits point towards the ceiling—your nipples, perked and moist from his eager mouth, bounce, and the sight makes any remaining coherent thought disperse.

“you’re going to take every last drop of my seed.” it’s not a question but a demand, and like you were taught, you pleasantly comply.

“yes, daddy.” the veins in his arm are pretty and decorative. you look at his flexing muscles the way you’d look at a painting. eyes, absorbing the details that marked his brown skin. sweat trailing down his massive frame.

you want to kiss him, but your wrists are bound by his hand. maybe they’ll bruise later, but it’s not a concern of yours, you only want to see the man above reach his completion.

“make it so full with your cum until it leaks out of my little pussy,” you say barely a whisper, but the effect on him is still the same.

a gruff growl tumbles from his mouth, and his grip grows tighter.

“I'm gonna give it to you. daddy is going to fucking breed you, darling.” he uses your body to pump his cock, losing himself to the massaging of your tight walls.

his cock swells inside your creamy pussy, and then a stream of cum jets out. milky ribbons plugging you to the brim until it spills from the sides.

“ah–thaaat’s it. that’s my little girl .” he grunts. squeezing you tightly, the sound of his mess squelching in the now warm room could be heard. countless nights have ended with him buried in you, and still, your cunt managed to make him feel like a young man.

he rests his head back and swallows audibly to catch himself. you watch him in amusement at his sudden breathlessness.

“just give. . . *whew* papa a minute,” he sighs.

#will edit dis tmrw #૮꒰ ๑´ତ `๑ ꒱ྀིა #tw:incest #pierro x reader smut #pierro x you #pierro x reader #pierro smut #genshin impact smut #genshin impact #female reader

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c1qfxugcgy0 · 1 month ago

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I will never complain about a toolbox being too far from the jobsite again.

(previous post in this series)

Large Aircraft Manufacturer (LAM) has announced, to the surprise of nobody with a brain, that certification of our latest aircraft, Advanced Widebody Carbon Wing (AWCW), has been delayed to March 2026.

This firmly sets management on the horns of a dilemma. They have something like five thousand expensively trained employees on the AWCW production line who will not have much to do for the next year. You can continue production and clutter up the hardstand with precertification aircraft. But the process of certifying the aircraft against severe weather, bird strikes, lightning strikes, etc etc, will inevitably require serious changes to the beta aircraft. LAM must then modify every one of their backlog aircraft, ripping out the interior, replacing bond wires and ground straps, then reinstalling all those parts. Doing structural work inside a complete aircraft naturally takes much more time than doing it from scratch in the production jigs designed to accommodate such work.

(And if you don't believe me, just watch This Old House.)

Naturally, LAM tracks every minute of worker time on each aircraft. Enough rework can wipe out LAM's entire profit margin on a bird, especially given the large discounts it offers to early buyers of new model aircraft.

This is not idle supposition. LAM was hauled through an identical hall of thorns when Advanced Midbody Carbon Aircraft (AMCA) was delayed in certification a decade ago. Fifty aircraft required expensive rework, putting the entire program in the red for years afterward. The scars are fresh, and LAM is not eager to repeat the experience. Thus, AWCW production rate has been cut to zero point zero.

But what to do with the workers?

Airplane factories are always attached to an airport. [citation needed]

Everything outside the factory is the flightline. Flightline is where all the problems with an aircraft catch up with it, and occasion screaming matches between facility managers (who are desperate to clear their patch of concrete and get the plane in the sky) and production managers (who will have the rare pleasure of seeing their face on the nightly news when that plane kills three hundred people).

Airplanes require a really incredible amount of maintenance. If production delays mean the plane doesn't get delivered to the customer on time, scheduled maintenance can happen while the airplane is being made. These are not problems that happen when you build cars, I can tell you. This is the shop I, along with 20 of my coworkers, have been loaned out to.

There are lots and lots and lots and lots and lots of moving parts on an airliner. Every LAM aircraft has a design life of 30 years. They cost hundreds of millions of dollars each. Because they are so damn expensive, our customers want to fly them as close to 24 hours a day as possible, in rain, snow, sleet, from Kabul to Kathmandu, from sea level to eight miles above ground. Sealed bearings, so beloved by the automotive industry, are simply not an option across aerospace's range of temperature, pressure, salt spray, and total joint lifespan requirements.

As a result, every single metal on metal joint on the airplane has a grease fitting, and a prescribed grease type for each fitting. In just the photo above there are seven fittings visible. The document that lists every fitting on the plane is eight hundred pages long.

But greasing the points is, honestly, not that hard. You've got eight hours to finish any given IP, and in a storage IP the greasing will take, at most, 30 minutes. Greasing is not the problem. The problem is the fucking skin panels.

The exterior surface of a wing is, uh, important. It carries the weight of the aircraft, it has to be aerodynamically smooth to a frankly annoying degree, each carbon fiber wing skin panel has to be as light as absolutely possible, the insulative carbon fiber composite must be coated with an outer antistatic conductive layer to bleed off static charge, but at the same time the inner layer needs a more conductive aluminum foil layer to conduct the powerfully destructive lightning strike energies each plane will experience, oh, about thirty times over its rated lifespan.

On that list of priorities, "making it easy for ground personnel to take a panel off" is low on the list of the priorities. Very low. Real damn low. Put on your SCUBA gear and investigate the pelagic depths kinda low.

You take off the panels. Maybe ten percent of the screws will strip when you apply force, which means you get to carefully, slowly drill out the titanium fasteners while standing at the top of a scissor lift in the rain.

(There is an art to drilling out a Phillips head titanium screw. Ordinarily, you want to use carbide tooling, which is sharp, but brittle. But even after stripping the hell out of a screw there will still be some remnants of the head, which the cutting edge of the carbide drill will catch on and break. So when your crew is assigned to a new plane, the first thing you do right away is rush to the tool room to get drill bits before your oafish coworkers clean them out, and get both HSS and carbide bits-- tough and ductile steel to knock down the remnants of the screw head and then carbide to do the bulk of the drilling. And once you're into the bulk of the screw, you do peck drilling-- three or four seconds of drilling, then pull the bit out and apply lube. This isn't for the benefit of the drill-- it can handle high temps just fine. What you absolutely, must not do, is let the screw get too hot. Because when titanium gets hot and then cools down, it hardens, and you just turned a ten minute job into a four hour one. Because after you finish drilling the hole you follow it with a steel screw extractor, and there's no extractor on Earth that's going to bite into hardened titanium.)

You apply Aeroshell 33 to the bushings on the slats torque tube and carefully brush on Cor-Ban 27L to the specified exposed metal surfaces. You call QA out, who bitches and moans the entire time for being rousted out of their crew shelter to get rained on to witness that you greased the things that needed to be greased.

Now it's time to put the panel back on. First, you throw away all the used fasteners and order new ones from Logistics. Any screw that touches a flight component is used once, and only once. Try not to think about the dollar value of the two pounds or so of aerospace titanium screws you just shitcanned. Be careful when reordering, though-- across the five or six panels you're pulling off you'll have two different types of screws of differing surface finishes, (structural screws vs. antistatic electrical bonding screws) different diameters and different screw lengths. Why? Because fuck you, you stupid mechanic. You deserve to suffer. Your life should be only pain.

(If you screw up on this step and can't button up a panel before end of shift you need to "short stamp" the IP saying what you did and did not do, check the panel into the WIP cage (remember to label it with the part number, IP number, and your employee number!) and then "maintain closure" by covering the empty spot with a sheet of plastic taped down along its entire perimeter with 3M 8979 duct tape. It is, of course, still raining while you're doing all this, because some fucking idiot decided to build an aircraft factory in the Pacific Northwet. Does duct tape stick particularly well to sodden wing panels? No, it does not.)

The one advantage of going to work at 5 am is that you never miss a sunrise

Assume you have all the screws you need and you haven't dropped any of the panels and damaged them while bumbling around. Apply Braycote 248 to the threads and start banging them home with a torque-limited screwgun.

Once installed, there are those two important electrical bonds mentioned above. LAM does not take your word that you've correctly installed the panel, of course, they want you to measure it. Getting the antistatic value is easy enough-- one probe on the head of the fastener, the other to the surface of the panel, value in the hundreds of kiloohms. Impossible to screw up.

What's harder is the lightning conduction path bond. That's measured in single digit milliohms, and it's from the foil lining of the panel to the structure of the wing. The foil is hard to access, since it's on the other side of the goddamn panel you just expensively installed.

Well, in some cases, you can just reach from an adjacent open panel. (The IP notes which panel does not require a lightning bond reading, and you are supposed to infer that this is the last panel to install.) But LAM defines "adjacent" somewhat loosely. By the time you are on the final panel, you are measuring bonds by duct taping one probe of the M1 meter to the end of a broomstick, crawling up the asshole of the plane, and jamming it against the back of a panel six feet away. This is as stupid as it sounds, and it takes several tries and quite a lot of fumbling around to get a good reading. If you don't get a good reading, then you will have the experience of taking the panel off, cleaning it real good, and then trying again, while your team lead breathes down your neck.

But if the readings are good, you unthread yourself from the guts of the wing, pound in the last panel, plug in your scissor lift, dump your cleaning materials contaminated with various exotic aerospace greases and weirdo solvents into the hazmat bin, return your tools to the tool room, and clock the fuck out. You've got a different airplane to grease tomorrow!

#avgeek #large aircraft manufacturer

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skepticalarrie · 2 months ago

Note

Hey, there’s something I don’t quite get. With everything going on right now with Louis’ public image, it brings back a question I had a while ago with Harry: are they victims of the industry, or businessmen who’ve sold their souls to it?

People always say that whoever they’re seen with publicly is part of some obligation, while others claim those are their real friends. Some say they’re involved in making decisions about the stunts, and others say they have zero control over that. Some paint them as really smart guys who make calculated industry moves and have their careers perfectly mapped out, while others see them purely as victims.

With Harry, people say he’s a smart businessman because of his public circle and career moves, but then whenever he achieves something big, he just seems so genuinely shocked by it. And I don’t think he’s faking that.

With Louis, they’ve said he’s been business-savvy since the 1D days, but right now he’s making moves that honestly seem kind of damaging to his career—at least for the moment.

It's confusing 🙃. Maybe it's something in between all of that?

Absolutely no shade to you, anon... this is actually a really interesting question and a valid discussion to have. But honestly, one of the things that’s made this fandom feel so toxic and uninteresting to me lately is the constant need for people to pick sides, label everything, go to extremes, and demand clear-cut answers. Everything comes with so much judgment.

But real life isn’t like that—things are complicated, layered, and rarely black and white. Every story has more than one side, and yeah, I do think the truth is probably somewhere in the middle. Because they’re human beings, and so are we. I think part of why some things upset us so much is because we look at it too coldly—we forget to factor in the human side of it all.

I don’t like framing these things as “here’s the villain” and “here’s the good guy.” That just doesn’t exist. I think both Harry and Louis are smart, well-trained people when it comes to navigating this industry, and yes, I think they know what they’re doing business-wise. They’re part of the system. But that doesn’t mean they’re not victims of it too. They’re closeted artists—there wouldn’t be a closet if there wasn’t oppression, or pressure, or contracts behind it.

So just because they’ve chosen to stay in the game and make some compromises, that doesn’t mean the industry isn’t still brutal to them. Yes, it's confusing.

#ask

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ohnoitstbskyen · 1 year ago

Note

So, considering what's going on with Riot right now, do you think Arcane Season 2 got caught up in all of this restructuring?

Yes and no. Arcane season 2 is part of the reason for the restructuring.

As I understand it, internally at Riot, after Arcane was a huge (and more importantly: prestigious!) success, the decision was made to basically hand the entirety of the game's lore and story over to the Entertainment division within Riot. These are the people in large part responsible for projects like Arcane, K/DA, Heartsteel, that animated series China got, all that sort of thing.

The writers at Riot were basically told to flat out stop producing new content and lore for the game - that's why there's BEEN no new story content for League for over a year - because everything was going to be consolidated under the Entertainment division from now on. This is why Riot started talking about "One Runeterra" and "Arcane is going to be canon" and so on.

The success of Arcane convinced executives that what League of Legends needs is a singular cohesive brand with its most successful public property leading the charge, Arcane is going to be the gateway drug, the hook on the end of the line that brings new players and new paying customers into the exciting world of the League of Legends multimedia IP universe!

Nevermind that Arcane's story and worldbuilding is fundamentally incompatible with >checks notes< the overwhelming majority of Runeterra as it exists and enormous compromises would have to be made to either the world of Runeterra or Arcane itself to make it work. Arcane is the big shiny prestigious mainstream Emmy-award winning project that every executive wants to put their name next to, and like companies Pivoting To Video in 2015 because Facebook showed them inflated viewership stats, Riot Games is Pivoting To Arcane. It's better than them pivoting to crypto and NFTs, at least, although I know for a fact that high ranking people at Riot tried to make that happen too.

Now, the primary cause for all of these games industry layoffs is that interest rates aren't zero anymore. Borrowing money isn't free, the curve of constant growth has ever so slightly slowed, taking on debt is becoming a little tiny bit more risky than it was previously, and corporations are responding to this with massive rounds of layoffs and constriction to show "financial responsibility" and prove to shareholders that they are prioritizing core growth strategies and blah blah blah etc. They're also trying to kneecap the growing labor movement in the games industry and exert downwards pressure on wages, but the interest rates seem to have been the main thing.

In Riot's particular case, a secondary reason is they want to pivot the focus of the company to support their One Runeterra pipe dream, so a lot of the people who got fired at Riot are writers, artists, creative leads and sometimes extremely senior and successful staff who are now surplus to requirements. This is also why Riot shut down Riot Forge in the same round of layoffs - can't have a bunch of talented indie devs going off making video games that don't adhere to the new One Runeterra policy. What if someone played Mageseeker and got confused how there can be mages all over Demacia but somehow there are no mages in Arcane's Piltover and Zaun. That's a plot hole! People write snarky articles about that sort of thing. It turns off new consumers! What if Cinema Sins makes a video making fun of it?!?

So yeah. A bunch of cocaine-addled fame hungry executive vultures at Riot are absolutely gagging on their own d*cks to put their name next to Arcane related projects, and since they were going to be screwing hundreds of people out of their careers, healthcare, and in some cases their fucking visa status anyway, it seems to have presented a nice opportunity to clear the board for their latest Visionary Scheme for the company IP.

That is as I understand the situation, anyway. I'm a bitter old man and most of what I hear is second hand and anonymous gossip through my social networks, take what I say with a grain of salt, but I've followed this company for (oh god) twelve years now and I have developed a tragically keen understanding of how its executive class operates.

#league of legends #riot games #arcane #arcane season 2 #runeterra #games industry #layoffs

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bwobgames · 4 months ago

Text

It’s 10:50 pm

“Hey, how did it go. Are you alright with the kid or do we need to sleep with one eye open?”

“We’re good now”

“Although now I owe Sebastián a favour”

“Huh? Was he there?”

“Ah, well, he cleared some of my points”

“Man, perhaps I really should hire you as my social situation interpreter”

“Oh baby, for you it’s all free”

“You’re insufferable”

“Heehoo”

“Eepy time, then? Two Mimir? Did you brush your teeth on the way? I’m already done with my skincare routine”

“Yeah…”

He puts on his pyjama and sits for a little while.

“What’s wrong?”

“Ah, nothing. I just… been thinking”

“About your dad again?”

“About the house.”

“Did you… feel something?”

“No but, what if this is, let’s say, some kind of evolution?”

“A sneakier house?”

“Maybe.”

“Remember when we analysed the doctor’s investigations? The feeling we proposed it might be?”

“Grief.”

“I fear that. If we or our friends or the other passengers or by accident…!”

“If someone breaks the current purpose, could we…?”

“Could someone accidentally give it a new one with their grief?”

“Are you thinking of someone specifically? Nina, maybe?”

“Ah, well, this thing is hosting a ton of people so, possibilities are not zero”

“Oliver. Do you think you…?”

“No.”

“No. I have nothing to grieve for. It’s been plenty of time already.”

“It’s not even been a month”

“I know. But by any means, I shouldn’t be grieving”

“Grandma lived a long and fulfilling life. She had her chickens. She had her family. She had just enough to be happy.”

“She never had to worry about the city life, content with the wonders of the south”

“Everyone got to see her at the hospital. And she died in her sleep. The most peaceful way to go”

“You even got to meet her. To talk to her. To know her. And she liked you”

“She liked you enough to ask to come by next year...”

“Oliver…”

“And she would’ve hated for us to be sad. She would’ve wanted us to throw a party instead of a gloomy funeral. To remember her as she wanted to.”

“By all means, I have no reason to be sad.”

“…But then why it still hurts so much…?”

The pressure in his chest, silently present since that day, grew tenfold.

He felt his as if his heart was painfully pumping tears out of his eyes.

It hurt. Even deeper than his chest. His heart. His soul.

For a second, he feared getting completely engulfed on it.

Until

A heart next to his, separated by a pair of ribcages.

“It that happens. I’ll fix it”

“I’ll buy this whole train if necessary. I’ll live in it. I’ll change it.”

“So, don’t bottle this up any longer, okay?”

“Grieve as much as you need. I’ll take care of the rest”

He thought he couldn’t cry any harder. He was wrong.

Grasping into Ángel, as if trying to completely unite their hearts, he let himself feel.

He misses her. He misses her. He can’t visit anymore. He doesn’t know what happened to the animals. He wishes he did more.

But the pain doesn’t eat him whole. There is a warmth to it.

A warmth embracing him, shielding him, applying a new pressure. A welcome one.

When he looked at that sunrise, he imagined a bright future. A perfect future.

One where Mozilla didn’t get sick. One where he wasn’t afraid of heights. One where he didn’t have nightmares.

One where everyone he loves lives forever.

Accepting reality used to be easier. When he wasn’t fragmented.

When he wasn’t haunting any buildings.

He should’ve spent more time with her.

He should’ve known, more than anyone, the importance of time.

He feels a kiss on his temple

“We’ll visit her, yeah? Every year. We’ll bring the prettiest flowers”

“She gave me her lemon pie recipe. I know I’m not the best, but”

“I’ll do everything to make it perfect”

This is the reality he lives in. And it’s the best it has ever gotten.

His pain might never pass. Part of him doesn’t want it to.

But it will always be cushioned around strong arms.

Accompanied by another beating heart, two ribcages away.

One day the pressure will be lighter, accompanied by joyful nostalgia. That day is clearly not today.

But he will look at the sunshine once more. Even if it’s cloudy.

He can be brave.

Because he knows that there will be times where he doesn’t have to.

His tears are not yet done with him, so he stays.

Ángel gently sways him side to side. It makes him sleepy.

Who could’ve thought that a busy day travelling and emotional turmoil would make him tired?

He closes his eyes and dozes off.

It’s 11 pm

#all for today #if i dont cry while writing a sad scene then its not working.#also. dont worry about the timeskip. dont worry about it. just dont worry.#detective beebo overnight train

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heroesbyler · 1 month ago

Text

Nosferatu 1979 Parallels in Stranger Things: They Love Some Vampire Shit<3

Hello everyone! I decided to watch Nosferatu 1979 after the new remake blew my mind with how good it was, and I realised how insanely the Duffers have been inspired by it in the show. Let's dive in:

The nightmare curse

Firstly, we get this scene of our main character Lucy.

I dont even have to say much on this: the mindflayer's/vecna's curse is heavily inspired by Nosferatu's curse, which is also something hinted with the subtlety of a truck hitting you by all the vampire stuff re: Vecna and the existence of demobats this season. As the classic tale of Dracula/Nosferatu goes, Jonathan, the love interest, goes to Nosferatu's castle to close the deal for selling a house to him, and strange shit is afoot. He reads up on it in old books, and learns about this curse.

The Creel house and General Vecna and One connections

Moving on. In the brief amount of time we get to see Dracula's castle, we see almost all the Vecna/Creel house-attic memorabilia hits. We have the grandfather clock, candles and mirrors. Moreover, Dracula appearance and characteristic hand shape/gesture and milky eyes were obviously the blueprint for Vecna's.

Jonathan is straight up having a bad time over there, obviously, being tormented by the horrors, while Lucy is likewise, also having a pretty bad time back in their city. But before going to them, let's talk about the actual Nosferatu figure here.

In this version, Nosferatu is the most sympathetic version of the Classic Antagonist in this story. We get to feel his desparation, his loneliness and emptiness, we get to experience the pain that is driving his decisions. We get his insight on the curse of immortality, something other Dracula figures dont really dwell upon:

Which is something I consider to be referenced in the Iconic Nina monologue:

Some general shot/line parallels

Back to Jonathan now. He is using a makeshift rope out of his sheets to escape, something we already see connected with the UD AND Vecna visions through the Hawkins gang scenes:

Lucy, ever the Supernaturally Afflicted Knower Of Situations, is serving s2 Will realness in general with her psychic connection to Nosferatu, but in this particular case has an almost word for word parallel to Nancy:

And then we have the whole Master of the Rats thing in Nosferatu which directly corresponds to the flayed rats/fleshflayer situation. And then, having Master of Puppets as a prominent UD moment...The demodog herd being called the Mindflayer's army...Subtlety level? Dustin voice: sub..zero.

The rats in Nosferatu parallel both the flayed rats and the spiders in Vecna visions as we have seen them so far, including this visual reference:

While Nosferatu tries to win Lucy over, the city suffers with the Black Plague, and Jonathan is desperate to save her. The townspeople, and particularly the doctor of the village, brush off Lucy's prophetic concerns as childish, even though she knows that the Plague is caused by Nosferatu. It is giving 'Or is it like the doctors said, all in your head?'/'Where others saw order, I saw a straitjacket'.

Nosferatu's main motivation being the absence of and need for love and some Byler speculation

After all this catastrophe, Nosferatu confesses his love to her after once again talking about how much he suffers for having no one and living forever, and how envious he is of Lucy and Jonathan's love, while also continuing to torment Jonathan as a pressure point for Lucy, causing his memories to be tampered with, and forgeting her (Hello Birthdaygate<3 yes this is all very Byler-y speculation mind you. To me. ).

He asks her to be his ally and go to him in order to save Jonathan, but she refuses, by explaining that he needs to save himself instead of relying on her.

It is abundantly clear that Nosferatu is written as a tormented creature and love is the only thing that could have saved him and he wants (which is exactly why the only way to kill him is for Lucy to accept his love and truly see him, because that lowers his defenses enough to let sunlight in. Talk about that POTO, Dracula, Nosferatu Tragedy TM, oof).

He leaves her alone for a little while, and she continues trying to find the way to defeat him in old books.

Mike at the scene of the crime once again in the weirdest parallel her+ more Nosferatu-Shadow coding

This one goes to my fellow 'What is up with that Wheeler boy' Mike fans that always want to know why tf he gets the weirdest, most ominous, mindflayer-y parallels ever, because this is just BEYOND.

We get this scene of Lucy reading a book about Nosferatu while trying to learn how to defeat him. In the background, we see Jonathan, because in film language, Lucy is talking about Jonathan as well now, as he has already turned into a vampire because of Nosferatu.

demoBats, shadows, demodogs wolves, blood and no reflections, demogorgons stretching the wall penetrating walls, this has it all when it comes to Mindflayer symbolism. Bullseye, truly. Even the undead thing is spot on for Vecna:

Now this is all well and good etc. But can someone please tell me why we have that Lucy / Vampire!Jonathan scene paralleled to a T..........in s1 with Mike and Dustin? Call this a coincidence to my face, lol. Mike baby you are in some deep shit, and no one knows what it means.

Even the freaking book says 'Mike' outside like WHAT in the film language are they saying to me. And yes this is cornplating BUT can't get over that the flowers on the table in Nosferatu's scene are the same colour as the ones Mike brings El. You can't make this shit up.

While Vecna's identity and the Mindflayer situation and origin remains more hazy and uncertain than ever, seeing a Monster that is both humanised but also distinctly alien and inhuman be the inspiration for both the flaying and Vecna's curse strongly hints in the Vecna that we know being a combination of them in some form, something strongly backed by TFS as well (with many asterisks re: its direct canon-ness).

Anyway this Longass Post has come to an end. We love some copy pasting from horror movies on popular show stranger things<3 Thank you for reading teehee

#stranger things #stranger things analysis #nosferatu 1979 #vecna #mike wheeler #will byers #nancy wheeler #max mayfield

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g1rld1ary · 1 year ago

Text

you never disappointed me - part two

part one part two part three part four

➻ synopsis: luke castellan x aphrodite!reader ; percy and beckendorf's plan to set you up with luke is in motion, but you're extremely resistant to any advances (10 things I about you AU)

➻ word count: 3462

➻ warnings: swearing, ooc/kind of loser!luke, ooc silena, she/her pronouns used for reader, sexual innuendos

➻ thank u so much for all the love on part 1 I am such a happy gal!!!!! also, have my first day at uni tomorrow (so pls wish me luck) and sorry if updates slow down!

TAGLIST: @myxticmoon @wicca-void @leeknows-wife @thekittyxo-blog @number-onekidqueen @instabull

════ ⋆★⋆ ════

It turned out that getting you to go out with Luke was harder than he’d originally anticipated. Eager for the whole ordeal to be over and for him to be 50 dollars richer, he’d hopped down from his spot on a fallen log and hurried to meet you by the volleyball courts when your match ended. You, unaware of Luke’s agenda, were fanning your face to combat some of the sweat that had accumulated, quickly tightening the messy ponytail you’d tied. Luke watched you in your own world, unbothered by anybody watching you, unlike the rest of your siblings. Sucking in a quick breath for confidence he approached you.

“Hey there, girly,” He smiled, “How’re you doing?” You looked up at him, inquisitive for a moment but ultimately unimpressed.

“Sweating like a pig actually, and yourself?” You were barely looking at him, skulling an impressive amount of your water bottle quickly. He stared at you, not expecting to be dismissed so easily. He recovered smoothly, not prepared to give up so soon.

“You really know how to get a guy’s attention, huh?”

“My mission in life,” You shot him a cloying smile, now giving him your full attention, unable to help being slightly interested by his boldness. “But obviously I’ve struck your fancy, so you see it worked. The world makes sense again.” You‘d figured out his motives now and had no interest, so began the walk back to your cabin. He followed, much to your dismay. Couldn’t men ever take the hint?

“So I’ll pick you up Friday then?”

“Oh right, Friday, uh huh.” You kept your eyes ahead, dodging a few younger kids as Luke trailed after you, annoyingly optimistic still.

“The night I take you places you’ve never been before,” He said, and you looked at him in disbelief. The ego on this kid!

“Right, like the makeout clearing in the forest? Do you even know my name, Castellan?” Luke could tell that you were mocking him, but he still had high hopes.

“I know a lot more than you think.” He smiled then, a lopsided thing that would have been somewhat charming if you’d actually bothered to look. Instead you were already walking away, calling out a “Doubtful. Very doubtful,” over your shoulder as you picked up into a run, presumably to go tell Clarisse about the bizarre experience you just had. Luke watched you go, dumbstruck in the middle of camp.

Percy and Beckendorf watched the exchange from the porch of the Hephaestus cabin, the latter putting his head in his hands dramatically.

“We’re screwed,” He groaned and Percy winced slightly.

“I’m sure it’ll all be fine, dude. Luke has faced a lot worse than a teenage girl.”

When you sat at dinner that night, desperately avoiding the eye contact Luke seemed desperate on initiating, you almost told Silena about your bizarre day. You’d opened your mouth to start the story when you realised that she’d only be encouraged by Luke’s antics, pressuring you into going out with him for her own benefit and quickly shut it. She’d noticed your odd behaviour and searched for meaning in your face. Panicking for something to replace the conversation, you zeroed in on the necklace sitting nicely on top of her camp one.

“Where’d you get the pearls?” You asked, already dreading the answer. Silena only confirmed your fears, claiming them as your grandmother’s with a coy smile.

“So what? You’ve just been hiding them the last three years?” You were always closest with your grandmother, and you were sure she wouldn’t leave her favourite pearls for Silena over you.

“Daddy found them in a drawer just before summer.” Silena shrugged as if you weren’t sitting across from her, cheeks a blotchy red in your upset. “Besides, they look good on me.” Your hands itched to hit her as she tucked a strand of hair behind her ears, knowing exactly how much she was pissing you off.

“Trust me, they don’t,” You spat, quietly glad when Silena stalked off in a huff, amongst the first to leave the meal. You didn’t know how much longer you could argue with her before starting to cry, which you really didn’t want to do in front of the whole camp. You thought you were safe for the rest of the meal when Drew began speaking instead.

“You could try being nice sometimes, you know, people wouldn’t know what to think.” You rolled your eyes aggressively.

“You forget, I don’t care what people think,” You replied, taking in a spoonful of food.

“Yes you do. Everyone does. You know, with a new look you could have some serious potential.” You ignored her last statement.

“No, I don’t,” You emphasised, “You don’t always have to be who they want you to be.” You knew that wouldn’t impact Drew in the slightest, but you hoped it might resonate with some of your younger siblings — encourage them to nurture their internal beauty rather than accept the vain stereotype Aphrodite children were forced into. You pushed yourself out of the bench you were sitting on, needing a break from your insufferable siblings. As you dumped your dishes where they needed to be you saw Luke beginning to follow you and turned to make dead eye contact. Knowing you’d only scream at him (or worse) you gave him a dangerous look, accompanied with an almost imperceptible shake of your head. Not enough for anyone else to know you’d even acknowledged him, but enough to tell Luke to back off. He was smarter than you thought, as he held up his hands in a show of surrender, redirecting his action to innocently collect up his own dishes.

You may not have had any interest in knowing the boy, but you did appreciate that he knew when to back off. Or so you thought.

You were proven not-so-free from Luke Castellan the very next morning. It was the Aphrodite cabin’s day to check all the storerooms, and you’d volunteered to do the one which held all the weapons and armour near the sword fighting arena. You knew none of your siblings would come near if they could help it, mostly against weapons and the violence that surrounded the area, so you’d get a whole morning alone. It was peaceful attending to the chore, and you were allowed to use some of your Aphrodite eye for beauty. Of course, stacks of swords and assorted weapons could only be made so pretty, but you enjoyed organising them into neat rows, making it look as nice as possible — not that you would admit that to Silena or you’d be in her vanity chair receiving an unwelcome makeover in seconds.

You were just admiring your own sword, which you’d taken the time to polish while you were taking care of the others, when you felt a presence behind you. You didn’t react, assuming it was just some camper coming for a weapon, until he spoke.

“Nice sword, vintage hilt?” You tensed as Luke’s voice infiltrated your peace.

“Are you following me?” You disregarded his statement, an unimpressed frown present on your lips.

“I was training in the arena and needed to polish my sword. I saw you come in a while ago and not leave, I came to say hi,” He explained, and you raised an eyebrow. You weren’t friends, why would he come for a chat?

“Hi.” You promptly turned back to your task, shoving the cloth into the intricate designs of the hilt.

“Not a big talker, huh?” He persisted.

“Depends on the topic. My sword doesn’t exactly whip me into a verbal frenzy.” That wasn’t strictly true — the sword was a gift from your mother, with gold twisting around a blood red ruby in the centre of the hilt. After you’d made it clear that you weren’t going to just sit around during your time at camp she gifted you the sword, her way of saying that if you were going to fight, you should at least look good doing it. You’d had several conversations with Clarisse gushing over the intricacy of it, and profusely thanked Aphrodite for the gift in your offerings. You didn’t quite care to share this with Luke, being a relative stranger.

“You’re not afraid of me, are you?” He asked, and you were somewhat taken aback by the earnest tone of his voice.

“Afraid of you? Why would I be afraid of you?” You couldn’t help the incredulous laugh that crept into your sentence.

“Most people are.” He gestured subtly towards his scar — gnarled and twisted against his otherwise tanned skin. You put a hand on your hip, resigned to conversation now.

“Well, I’m not.”

“Ok, maybe you’re not afraid of me, but I’m sure you’ve thought about me naked.” You were pretty sure Luke was going for smooth or charming, but you thought in this moment he was entirely lame. The wink didn’t help his case.

“Am I that transparent? I want you, I need you. Oh baby, oh baby.” You put on your best Drew impression, nasally and whiny, before handing him the cloth he needed to polish his own sword and turning to leave. There, quickly approaching the door, was Ethan. Seeing you he put on a disgusting smirk and blocked the doorway, effectively caging you into the storeroom.

“Gods, what is it, asshole day?” You asked, not caring that both boys could very clearly hear you. “Do you mind?” You gestured to his blocking the exit. He simply looked down at you, clearly doing his best to appear sexy (and failing miserably).

“Not at all.” His stupid smirk was going to kill you, and not in the good way. You scoffed, giving him a last chance to get the fuck out of your way. Then, sparing a fraction of a glance back to Luke pretending to mind his own business, you slammed the hilt of your sword into his foot, wishing it was the blade instead. You watched him crumble to the ground, holding his foot with both hands.

“You bitch!” He yelled, voice cracking pathetically in the middle. You forced your smile to stay contained.

“Oops,” You feigned innocence, one hands covering your mouth strategically. “You might need some ambrosia for that…” With that you side-stepped him, eager to leave the situation. If you’d have looked back, you would have seen the gleeful, disbelieving smile on Luke’s face, probably the biggest one he’d worn in a while. Although he didn’t get the date he’d entered for, he was beginning to think you were a little more interesting than you let on.

“Did you just cripple Ethan?” Silena shrieked as you entered your cabin to grab your things. “He’s a model, you can’t do that! Has it escaped your notice that you’re completely psychotic?” You pretended to think for a moment, then shrugged nonchalantly.

“Guess your long walks on the beach are gonna have to wait,” You sighed dramatically, leaving Silena to wallow in her pity alone. It wasn’t like it was really your fault — if Ethan had learned how to respond to words or learn the meaning of ‘move’ he wouldn’t have gotten himself into that situation in the first place.

Meanwhile, Ethan and Luke were having a similarly emotional conversation after Luke had — very reluctantly — helped Ethan over to the infirmary to get his foot checked out.

“When I shell out fifty, I expect results.” Luke sighed, could this boy get any whinier?

“Yeah, I’m on it,” He said through gritted teeth, resisting the urge to hurt him.

“Watching that bitch obliterate my foot doesn’t count as a date. If you don’t get any, I don’t get any, so let’s get some,” Ethan said, running a hand through his ridiculously styled hair. Luke couldn’t believe his nerve. First of all, obliterated? He would be left with a bruise for a few days, if anything. Secondly, this whole things was Ethan’s idea, Luke had never given any indication wanting to ‘get some’, especially not with someone so clearly resisting his advances. Just as Ethan left, giving the Apollo girl treating him a douchebag smile, Luke hardened his resolve.

“I just upped my price,” He said, loving the way Ethan’s eyes widened like a cartoon character. “A hundred bucks a date, in advance.”

“Forget it,” Ethan grumbled, moving to leave again.

“Forget her sister then.” The two boys stared at each other, one significantly more amused than the other. Luke knew he had the upper hand in the dynamic, something he revelled in. Then, after the intimidation tactic clearly wasn’t having any effect, Ethan reached for his wallet, Luke admiring the crisp fifty he was handed.

“You better hope you’re as smooth as you think you are, Castellan.” Luke just watched him go, confident tilt of his head conveying his outlook on the situation.

Luke had taken his usual spot overseeing combat training, but his usual thoughts were long gone. Instead, he was entirely preoccupied with you. He didn’t know how to get you to go out with him when you could barely entertain a conversation, and he twirled his cigarette between his fingers as he pondered.

Percy and Beckendorf saw his internal conflicts, slowly moving closer to him under the guise of a very chaotic fight between the two. Finally Luke gave them attention, knowing Percy’s skills would never have him running all over the place like that. He raised an eyebrow, a sign for them to get on with whatever they were angling at.

“We know what you’re trying to do, for Beauregard,” Percy said, and Luke appeared almost startled.

“And we want to help,” Added Beckendorf helpfully, shying away when Luke’s eyes bore into his.

“And why would you do that?”

“Beckendorf here has a major crush on Silena—”

“Gods, what is it with this girl? Does she sweat nectar?” Beckendorf opened his mouth to protest when Percy spoke over him, knowing it would be more beneficial to let Luke lead.

“Look, I think we can both tell that Charlie’s love is pure, well-intentioned, better than, say, Ethan White?” Luke sighed, catching on.

“I’m in this for the cash, that’s it. Who Ethan wants to bang is of no interest to me.”

“There will be no banging!” Beckendorf cried as Percy pushed him behind. He was no use in a delicate situation like this.

“Ok, Luke, it’s just that we’re the masterminds behind this whole thing. We set it up so Beckendorf can get the girl — Ethan’s just a pawn.” Luke paid closer attention suddenly, intrigued by the chess match he’d been pulled into.

“So you two are gonna help me win her over?”

“We’ll do research, find out what she likes. We can be your guys on the inside.”

“In a strictly non-mission type of way,” Beckendorf added helpfully, nervous of the legends he’d heard about Luke’s failed quest. Luke chose to simply ignore that comment, and Percy filled the silence before he could get angry about it.

“Let’s just start here: the Apollo cabin is throwing a party on Friday night, it’s the perfect opportunity.”

“I’ll think about it,” Was all Luke said, a clear signal the conversation was over. Percy and Beckendorf returned to fighting, slightly more regulated now they had gotten what they’d wanted, and Luke brought the cigarette back up to his lips, new thoughts clouding his mind.

Meanwhile, Ethan had found Silena where she was known to hang out by the rocks near the lake. He was hovering next to her, providing snatches of shade as he performed pose after pose, claiming he had a modelling job lined up when he left for the year.

“So which do you like better?” He asked, moving his hands fractionally to the left of his chin.

“The second,” Silena giggled, tucking a strand of dark hair behind her ear. “It’s more… pensive.”

“Damn,” Ethan kicked the sand softly. “I was going for thoughtful. So, you going to the Apollo party on Friday?”

“Maybe.” She produced her best coy smile, looking up at him from behind her lashes.

“Good, ‘cause you know I’ll only bother if you’re there.” Silena smiled, getting up from her spot on the rock.

“Bye.” Her voice was airy in the way she knew drove boys mad. She walked away leaving Ethan wanting more, her specialty. You scoffed, catching the end of the exchange. You and Silena made momentary eye contact, tension thick between the two of you.

As Beckendorf approached Silena, fishing for more information about you, Ethan had caught you in his sights and wasn’t going to let you go so easily.

“You sister is so cute,” His voice infiltrated your bubble in a way that made you want to hit him so desperately. “Doesn’t have your bite though, a feisty woman is so sexy.” You knew he was just trying to get a rise out of you, but it was so close to working.

“Come any closer and I’ll show you just how feisty I can get,” You snapped, braid almost whacking him in the face as you turned to face him. You could have sworn Ethan looked afraid for a second before he covered it with bravado.

“One day you’re gonna realise that all of this hostility is just your sexual repression. Don’t worry, babe, I’ll be waiting with open arms… And legs.” You almost threw up.

“Gods, can’t you just leave me alone, asshole?” You yelled, trying to push past him to get anywhere else.

“C’mon, don’t be a prude,” He whined, and you were really close to taking him to the ground — not in the way he wanted.

“You heard the girl,” A voice called from behind you, and instantly Ethan took a step back. “She wants you to leave her alone.” Luke appeared behind you, a respectful distance away whilst still making his intentions clear. Ethan shrunk back into himself, making a lame excuse as to why he had to leave, hurriedly fleeing the beach. Reluctantly, you turned to face Luke.

“I’m not going out with you just for that,” You said plainly, daring him to try again.

“You think that low of me?” He laughed, dark eyes sparkling with mirth. You forced yourself not to notice. “I don’t have to want something from you to know that Ethan White isn’t worth your time.” It was your turn to be embarrassed at that, feeling slightly narcissistic for assuming that was the purpose of the conversation (it was, but Luke sure as hell wasn’t going to ruin his chances because you were in a mood, justified or otherwise).

“Oh.” You stared at his shoes. “Well, thanks, I guess.” You moved to leave but Luke stopped you, hand not quite touching your arm, unwilling to have it bitten off.

“So you do have a heart!” He joked, signature grin on his face. You wondered why you were seeing so much of it lately when he’d been so dour since his quest.

“Ha! You wish.”

“Don’t try to hide it, Beauregard, you’re warming up to me.”

“I’d sooner fuck Mister D,” You replied, actually taking your leave.

Luke watched you go, chewing his lip between his teeth. There was more to you than you let on, he was sure of it. He wouldn’t say it was any fondness, but he was starting to have a curiosity attaching itself to this scheme, and he knew that going out with you would satisfy it. He should have known having any personal stakes involved — sentimental or otherwise — would get dangerous.

Your own thoughts had barely budged on Luke. He was still a pain in your side and you figured you knew what kind of guy he was — not the type you had any interest in. Still, you couldn’t deny that you were appreciative he’d saved you from Ethan (and the inevitable washing up duty you’d be punished with when you beat him up), so maybe he wasn’t quite as despicable as you’d initially judged him to be. Close, though.

part three

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