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writingquestionsanswered · 3 days

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I'm tired of my ideas always being big. It's overwhelming. I like seeing others' WIPs and ideas because they're just so simple... Like, that comic about a mermaid living in the ocean in our modern time and dealing with plastic trash. So simple and my own brain is bursting with ideas. But my own WIPs... they just start huge. I'd like something smaller... but I don't know how.

Stories Always Get Too Big

Stories can get out of hand quickly when they sprout too many independent threads. There are three primary culprits that serve as sparks that create these threads:

1 - Setting 2 - Non-Protagonist Characters/Relationships 3 - Back Story

The thing to remember, though, is that no matter how interesting your setting is, no matter how compelling your other characters are, and how fascinating the back story is, those things are not your plot.

Plot is the sequence of events through which the protagonist (and potentially other main characters) attempt to resolve the story's conflict by overcoming obstacles and setbacks in pursuit of a goal.

In other words, focus on this:

the protagonist > their normal world > the event that introduces a problem they must resolve > the goal they formulate in order to resolve that problem > the events that occur as a result of their pursuit of this goal > their attempts to overcome obstacles and setbacks encountered along the way > their attempt to solve the problem once and for all > failure or success > life in a changed situation/world

Anything else doesn't need to be there unless it is critical in order for one of the above steps to make sense.

So, let's take your mermaid example... though I haven't read that comic so I'm winging it here:

the protagonist = mermaid normal world = doing mermaid stuff inciting incident = finding plastic trash in the water goal = clean up/find the culprit and teach them to do better events = cleaning up, learning about humans, tracking down culprit climax = mermaid appeals to humans to do better finale = mermaid is living in a cleaner ocean

Now, let's say your brain starts to go off on a tangent about a deep oceanic rift and an evil merman wizard who lives there... stop right there. It's a fun idea, but what does it have to do with this story? How does it relate to the trash, clean-up, finding the culprit, or appeal to humans to do better? It doesn't. Theoretically, you could make it make sense... like, maybe the merman wizard likes the trash and wants the ocean to be dirty and gross, so maybe he is opposing the mermaid's attempts to clean up and to appeal to the humans. Okay, that works, so you can keep it. But, let's say you also have this idea about these creatures that live around the hydrothermal vents, and the mermaid meets and falls in love with a scientist who's studying them. Okay, again, interesting idea, but this one is much harder to fit in with the rest of the story. Sure, you could say the scientist is studying marine pollution instead... that brings it back around to the main conflict, but still, what does this relationship add to the story? How does it help or harm the mermaid's mission? How does it help to explore the story's themes or help deliver the message? It doesn't really sound like it does, so this would be an example of a thread you can probably snip.

And the thing is, it would be okay to follow a thread like that while you're plotting or writing your first draft, just to see where it goes and see if you can make it work. Part of why we edit and revise is to snip out the threads and elements that aren't pulling their weight. But learning how to curb them as they occur to you will help save you work later on down the line. Try writing those ideas down in an ideas document, and maybe those can be worked into different stories, a sequel, or a companion story.

One final note: I am very much aware that there are some epic writers out there who let wild tangles of threads sprout as they write, and they follow them all without abandon, relevant or not. That's okay, too. These are writers for whom that works, who don't feel overwhelmed by all of those threads, who want to write something bigger and more unwieldy. Maybe in time as you get accustomed to writing smaller, tidier stories, you embrace the bigger stories your brain wants to tell. Or maybe you don't. Whatever works best for you is all that matters. :)

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zegrasdrysdale · 12 hours

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also if your not uber uber busy could YOU PLEASEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE write a fic based off of one of these songs (feel free to do all of them my queen but NO PRESSURE) I also don't mind who the fic is with use who ever you feel would go best with it :)

Before you Go - Lewis Capaldi

It's Not Over - Daughtry

Goodbyes - post Malone

Circles - Post Malone

I hate you, I love you - Gnash

Mr Brightside - The Killers

Scars to your beautiful - Alessia Cara

Thank you I might request more but again no pressure

[ it’s not over ] j. drysdale

paring : Jamie Drysdale x fem!reader

summary : Jamie and his girlfriend broke up right before he was traded to Philly. when Jamie comes back to pack up the rest of his things, she tries to fight for them since she doesn’t believe it’s over for them

warning(s) : angst galore ! a few uses of Y/N

author’s note : giving me free range to write this abt whoever was probably not the best idea, especially when i like writing jamie angst 😈

fic inspired by :

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I was blown away What could I say? It all seemed to make sense You've taken away everything And I can't deal with that I try to see the good in life But good things in life are hard to find

The NHL season ended without a word from Jamie since the day he got traded to the Flyers in January. Nearly four months passed after he was traded and she never got so much as a text message from her former boyfriend of nearly two years.

They shared a whirlwind of a relationship where they met, said they loved each other, and moved into an Anaheim apartment down the street from Trevor all within a year.

She truly loved him, and she truly messed up before he left for the trip to Nashville that he never came back from.

She knew there were rumors going around Anaheim about Jamie's trade, and Jamie blocked them out every time he heard even a whisper about him getting traded out of Anaheim. He didn't want to hear the reality. When she tried to get him to see that, he walked out the door for the trip after they got into a fight. He packed a bag and spent the night at Trevor's.

Now that the season is over, she expects him to come back to finish packing whatever he didn't grab over the All Star break in February. She couldn't just leave the apartment. She couldn't leave all of the memories behind so easily, especially since she still loves him.

Trevor texts her the day after the season ends and tells her that Jamie is coming in soon to grab the last of his things. Jamie couldn't even let her know that he's coming by. She spends that night curled up in their bed.

We'll blow it away, blow it away Can we make this something good? Well, I'll try to do it right this time around

The following morning, she's up early and thinks about what she can do to fix what's broken between them over a cup of coffee. She has no idea if he's mad at what she said or mad at the fact that he did get traded out of Anaheim.

Maybe she shouldn't have said anything about the trade before it happened. Maybe he wouldn't be about to move out the last few boxes he packed in February if she let him process his future trade on his own.

She fucked up, but maybe she can fix it. It's not over until they both think it's over, and she doesn't think it's over with them. She'll try to do it right this time. She'll be supportive of him instead of trying to get him to see reality. That's where she messed up because Jamie was probably trying to cope with the fact that he wasn't wanted in Anaheim anymore by the team that put their faith in him and drafted him 6th a few years ago.

All she wanted to do was prepare him for the possibility of being traded across the country, and she was met with radio silence since he walked out that door.

He walked out that door with her heart and took it across the country with him. She has to try to fix what's broken. She's not ready to say goodbye to him. She's not ready for him to become a memory or a ghost that haunts her dreams.

The sound of a key in the door grabs her attention immediately. She was leaning on the kitchen island and stands straight up when the door opens. She leaves the cup of coffee on the counter because she is afraid that she's going to drop it when she sees who's walking into the apartment.

She bites her lip so she doesn't say anything when Jamie walks into the apartment for the first time with her there since the fight a bunch of months ago. It feels like a lifetime ago when he walked out the door.

He freezes when he sees her in the kitchen. Their eyes meet and she has to hold back tears.

Jamie looks so much happier and healthier than the last time she saw him in person. The bags under his eyes have gotten lighter. He is practically glowing.

He was working so hard while he was playing for Anaheim because he felt like he had something to prove. He felt like he needed to prove that he belonged here. Philly wanted him so he probably was able to relax.

"Hi," she finally breathes out when the silence gets to be too much for her. "You look, um ... you look good."

"Thanks," he replies, voice quiet. "Are the boxes still in the bedroom?"

She nods quietly and Jamie makes a quick escape down the hallway. She rests her elbows on the counter and puts her face in his hands to hide any emotions that Jamie could see when he comes back out into the living room.

Her throat closes up and tears prick her eyes. She had no idea that seeing him again would cause her to have this reaction. Seeing Jamie will always probably make her have some kind of reaction.

Let's start over I'll try to do it right this time around It's not over Because a part of me is dead and in the ground This love is killing me, but you're the only one It's not over

When he comes back into the living room, Jamie is carrying one of the six boxes that are left. That's probably the biggest box so he has to carry it by itself. The other boxes are light so they can be carried two or three at a time.

That means she's running out of time to talk to him before he walks out of her life completely.

She walks back to the bedroom where his remaining boxes sit in the corner. She sits on the bed so she can catch him when he walks back into the room. With a quick wipe of her cheeks to dry them, she settles on the mattress with her legs crosses and waits for Jamie to come back.

There are footsteps in the hallway and Jamie appears in the doorway a second later. He pauses mid-step when he sees her sitting on the bed they used to share.

"Can we talk?" she asks as her entire body shakes with anxiety and nervousness. "Please?"

Jamie walks over to the corner and piles two of the boxes on top of one another. "I don't have time," he tells her as he picks up the pair of boxes. "Trevor is waiting for me outside to take me and my stuff to the airport for my flight to Toronto."

She frowns as he walks out the door with his things, but she quickly throws on a pair of slides and follows him. "Jamie, please," she begs. "I don't want to let you leave without saying what I have to say. I don't want you to get on that flight without talking to me first."

He gets on the elevator and she jumps on with him. He presses the button to go to the first floor and the doors shut. "(Y/N)," he sighs. "I can't do this again. I don't want to do this again."

"I want to fight for us, Jamie," she says anyway as the elevator keeps descending to the first floor. "I'm not letting you just walk away so easily again. It was a mistake the first time letting you walk away. Especially because you didn't come back."

The doors open and Jamie walks out. She follows him out the front door. Trevor's car sits next to the curb, and he leans against it. "There is a reason I didn't come back," he comments as he throws the boxes in the trunk of the car. Then he looks at her. "I was traded, remember? I bet you do because you kept reminding me that I was going to be traded."

His words cause her to freeze as he walks away. She looks at Trevor, who just points in Jamie's direction. "Go," he tells her. "He's just being hard to get."

She runs after him as he approaches the elevator. The doors open and she once again joins him in the small room.

"I should've been a good girlfriend and be there for you to help you cope with the possibility of being traded," she says to Jamie. "I shouldn't have kept telling you to face reality. I didn't understand how you were feeling, but I do now. I wasn't there for you and was making it harder for you. I'm sorry."

The two walk back into the privacy of their apartment because it's still technically Jamie's apartment too. Once the door shuts, Jamie spins and faces her.

"You made it seem like you were excited to move to wherever it was I got traded to," Jamie snaps. "Meanwhile, I was leaving behind the life that I had made for myself over the past four years. I was leaving the best teammates behind, I was leaving my best friends behind. I pushed myself so hard once those rumors started that I hurt myself trying to prove that I belonged here. I hurt myself trying to prove that I had a spot on the Ducks, and they still traded me anyway. There's a reason I didn't want to face that reality and it's because I was leaving everything behind. Then there was you who seemed like you didn't care what you were leaving behind."

"Because I was ready to move across the country to be with you!" she shouts at him. Her voice is strained as she chokes back tears. "I didn't want to leave everything behind, but I was ready to start a life with you wherever you ended up, then you walked out that door and never came back. You ignored every single text and call I made. You never gave me the chance to explain myself, and now here we are."

He walks back into the bedroom to grab the last three boxes. "I didn't want to hear your excuses," he says as she follows him. "I didn't want to listen to how excited you were to start the next chapter of our lives or whatever while I was struggling to walk away from Anaheim. Sorry if I needed a second."

As he stacks the last boxes on top of each other, she says, "I would've given you as much time as you needed, Jamie. All you had to do was talk to me. Instead, you ignored me." She pauses as Jamie lifts up the boxes. "If I could do the last few months over again, I would. If I could be there for you then I would. I'd support you through anything. I did support you. I watched every single Flyers game you played in and I had to resist the urge to call you when you got hurt a few weeks after the trade. I had to ask Trevor how you were even though he was hurt too because I wasn't sure if you'd answer and I was worried you'd hurt your shoulder like you did last year. I cheered for every point you got and I loved you from 2,700 miles away while you were ignoring me."

Tears form and fall down her cheeks as she tells Jamie what been happening with her since he left. She's angry, but she loves him so much that she's willing to be angry at him for a second while they talk for the first time in months.

She's willing to be angry at him for this one moment.

Jamie puts the boxes on the ground and looks at her. "You still loved me and supported me even though I was ignoring you?" he asks like he doesn't believe her. She nods and wipes away her own tears while she looks at Jamie. "I didn't know-"

"You wouldn't have known because you refused to talk to me," she interrupts as she rubs her face. "I'm sure you didn't bother asking Z how I was either because he didn't tell me if you did ask."

"I asked him not to tell you."

"What?"

He sighs and runs his fingers through his hair. "I did ask how you were doing, but I told Trevor not to tell you I was asking because I wasn't sure if I wanted to talk to you yet," Jamie explains. "He didn't tell me that you still loved me and were supporting everything I did in Philly."

"Still love," she corrects. "Still support. I always will because I thought for years that it was going to be the two of us til the end. When you walked through that door a little bit ago, I was getting ready to fight for us. I didn't think it was actually over between us, but you tell me if it's over or if we can start over."

Jamie stays quiet, and the only reason she doesn't immediately tell him to leave is because she can see that he's genuinely thinking about her words.

I've taken all I could take And I cannot wait We're wasting too much time Being strong, holding on Can't let it bring us down My life with you means everything So I won't give up that easily

His phone buzzes and he takes it out of the pocket of his shorts. He looks back up at her and says, "I have to-"

"Go?" she interrupts again. "Then go, but know that I'm not done fighting for us and our lives together."

"(Y/N)," Jamie sighs. "I have to go tell Trevor that I'm staying." Her eyes widen. "It's not over between us. I don't want it to ever be over between us, so if you'll let me, I'd like to start over. Redo the last few months or so with you."

All of the tension leaves her body and she nearly falls to the floor. She lets out the biggest sigh of relief, and also the loudest sob that echoes off the walls of the bedroom. She covers her face and cries into her hands.

A pair of arms wrap around her shoulders and she smells Jamie's familiar cologne on his body as it engulfs her. "We'll do it right this time," he assures her. "I promise.

I'll blow it away, blow it away Can we make this something good? 'Cause it's all misunderstood Well, I'll try to do it right this time around

Let's start over I'll try to do it right this time around It's not over Because a part of me is dead and in the ground This love is killing me, but you're the only one It's not over

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runs-red · 28 days

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Why the Anti-Endogenic Community is Harmful

A few things to get out of the way. You can be anti-endogenic and decent, obviously. This is about the issues with the community in general, not about pointing at every single anti-endo ever to call them an ass. Anti-endogenic can mean a lot of things.

And this is about non-DID plurality. I feel like the vast majority of the endogenic community (on Tumblr at least, haven't been on TikTok in over a year) has nothing to do with DID.

The Biggest Issue

At its core the issue is with not respecting a person's identity, their right to self-identify, and to label and talk about their own personal internal experiences. I’m coming from a position where I think it’s wrong to look at a massive group of people reporting relatively consistent experiences and deeming that they’re all actually wrong or outright lying. I also think the implication that hundreds of people come online just to act like systems to be annoying is…. Strange.

I don’t think it’s fair to ask for undeniable proof when the experience is happening internally. I feel like it puts people into a corner where they can’t defend themselves from that standpoint. “Prove to me you’re actually fictionkin”, “prove to me you actually have MaDD”, “prove to me you’re actually a system”, it just leads to the same conclusion. There is nothing they can physically give you, and they shouldn’t have to prove their internal experiences to be respected in the first place (not even believed, the basic respect of being blocked would do).

Telling people they're either secretly traumatised or experiencing psychosis or have tricked themselves into being plural or outright lied to themselves is not a good dilemma to throw at people. Again, in general dictating other peoples internal experiences is just… not cool in the first place.

Lastly, refusing to listen to endogenics on their identity and continuing to spread hate on pre-convinced ideas is a pretty relevant issue. I continue to see takes that alienate endogenics with childhood trauma (talking about them like they can't be traumatised), "transplural" is still used as a "told you so", “trying to have DID” and the refusal to separate endogenic plurality from DID, and overall just pushing assumptions onto the endogenic community around their own identities. I refuse to believe that’s in good faith at all.

It’s Gone Beyond Identity

If it ended at “I don’t believe you're actually plural” it wouldn’t be that much of an issue, unfortunately it’s gone way beyond that. “Endos” are spoken about like they’re a collective piece of shit. I don’t really care about sounding dramatic right now because it’s the truth. Since I’ve been scrolling the anti-endo tags for proof I’ve gotten some on my For You Page, a lot of them reek of hatred. Here’s a post I did where I shared some screenshots on anti-endogenics.

One) Lumping Endogenics in Together

The ‘endo’ community is actually full of different types of plurals who have varying experiences and terms and language. When you see all endogenics as one entity, it’s easier to pin them all for the actions of one and to demonise them. This just reeks of hatred and it borders on bigotry.

Two) Framing Endogenics as Inherently Malicious

Take the “future is plural” backlash. The phrase was never meant to mean “everyone is going to be plural” or “everyone is going to try and give their kids DID”, the same way the phrase “the future is female” doesn’t mean “let's kill all men so there's only women”. Endogenics are framed with causing everything bad in the system community, pretty much. It goes beyond "I don't think endogenics are actually plural" to shit like "endogenics don't care about trauma survivors and go out of their way to fuck shit up."

Three) Just Plain Bullying and Treating Endogenics Like Shit

Again, this isn't just about "I don't believe you can exist" to "I hate the way you identify so much that I don't think you deserve respect or a space".

#I wanted this out if my drafts so if it doesn't make sense....#syscourse #reds.syscourse

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forcebookish · 7 months

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wrote that new topmew fic very quickly and now i'm not really happy with it (there's an inaccuracy that i don't actually want to get rid of dfslkdjf) but now i don't know what to work on >:(

#two gifsets are calling my name but i'm kind of stuck #bc i deleted some PSDs that would have come in handy so i'm grumpy with myself lol #tiee ep10 is stalled because that episode is annoying lol #i think the forcebook fic wants to be written more than the topmews #but i don't have a beginning yet or a pov #i like a third person limited but idk where to start #probably going to work on original work rather than fanfic but we'll see #as much as i was like I NEED TO WRITE TOPMEW FANFIC NOW!!!!!! i kind of don't want to now lol #they're kind of hard to write?#like don't get me wrong i'm still annoyed with what the writers did there at the end but i also slightly understand the predicament #especially with book's input it may have been hard to juggle what to include and what to exclude #in fact it kind of seems like they only added book's ideas but didn't bother take/alter anything else? bc there's some stuff where i'm like #mew would straight up not do that lol #so the way that translates into fic is trying to figure out what to include/exclude since the way they wrote him was kind of inconsistent #which i was big mad about at the end #but now i'm a little more resigned like. the turnover for these dramas is insane #and workshopping is really short so i can see why some holdovers from earlier drafts might not have made as much sense based on how the #characters changed through different iterations from the directors and actors #but that doesn't make some of the contrivances suddenly not annoying lmao #anyway reply with an emoji if you read this far jdljsfld #rum.txt

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wickedhawtwexler · 8 months

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looks like i'm having my yearly second guessing my nanowrimo plot freakout several weeks early this year!!!

#usually this doesn't happen until mid-to-late october 🤪#i've been writing the various books for my crazy sci-fi novel series for nanowrimo since like. 2020 i think #but the other day i picked back up my magical realism novel that i wrote last year & haven't touched since jan 1st of this year apparently #and it's all making sense!!! i have a vision for it and i'm like. i should write draft 2 for nanowrimo this year #but the problem with that is i want to out-write my word count for last year. which was 113k or something #and this novel is not 113k words. so i'd have to work on something else too. which i could do!!!#but book 5 of my crazy sci-fi novel series would definitely be 113k words #i think i'm just burned out with my crazy sci-fi novel series. i've been rushing to finish my latest draft of book 1 before nanowrimo #eye dee kay we'll see #m.txt

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jonnywaistcoat · 3 months

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Hey, Horrormaster Sims. I have a wildly different question that barely relates to TMA (Sorry about that) but its about your own process. Please, if you could, can you tell me how your first drafts made you feel? I'm on the fence about writing my own thing (not a podcast, and again, not Magnus related, though I have a million little aus for that delightful tragedy you wrote, thank you for that!) But I'm discouraged by the collective notion that first drafts are always terrible, because there's no ... examples I can solidly use to help the dumb anxiety beast in my brain that tells me everyone who is in any way popular popped out a golden turd and not, well, you know. One of my friends said 'Oh I bet Jonathan Sims's first draft was nothing like what he wanted' and I got the bright idea to just. Send you an ask, since you're trapped on this hellsite like I am. Anyway, thanks for reading this (if you do) and if you'd rather ask it privately, I am cool with that. Alternatively, you're a hella busy man with Protocol (you and Alex are making me rabid, i hope you know) and you can just ignore this! Cheers, man, and good words.

To my mind all writing advice, especially stuff that's dispensed as truisms (like "first drafts are always garbage") are only useful inasmuch as such advice prompts you to pay attention to how you write best: what helps your workflow, what inspires you, what keeps you going through the rough bits. There are as many different ways to write (and write well) as there are people who write and so always consider this sort of thing a jumping off point to try out or keep in mind as you gradually figure out your own ways of writing.

On first drafts specifically, I think the wisdom "all first drafts are bad" is a bit of unhelpful oversimplification of the fact that, deadlines notwithstanding, no piece of writing goes out until you decide its ready, so don't get too hung up on your first draft of a thing, because a lot of writers find it much easier to edit a complete work than to try and redraft as they go. It's also important to not let perfectionism or the fact your initial draft isn't coming out exactly how you want stop you from actually finishing the thing, as it's always better to have something decent and done than to have something perfect and abandoned.

But the idea of a "first draft" is also kind of a fluid one. The "first draft" you submit to someone who's commissioned you will probably be one you've already done a bunch of tweaks and edits to, as opposed to the "first draft" you pump out in a frenzy in an over-caffeinated weekend. For my part, my first drafts tend to end up a bit more polished than most, because I'm in the habit of reading my sentences out loud as I write them (a habit picked up from years of audio writing) so I'll often write and re-write a particular sentence or paragraph a few times to get the rhythm right before moving to the next one. This means my first drafts tend to take longer, but are a bit less messy. I'm also a big-time planner and pretty good at sticking to the structures I lay out so, again, tend to front load a lot of stuff so I get a better but slower first draft.

At the end of the day, though, the important thing is to get in your head about it in a good way (How do I write best? what helps me make writing I enjoy and value? What keeps me motivated?) and not in a bad way (What if it's not good enough? What if everyone hates it? What if it doesn't make sense?) so that you actually get it done.

As for how my first drafts made me feel? Terrible, every one of 'em No idea if that's reflective of their quality, though, tbh - I hate reading my own writing until I've had a chance to forget it's mine (I can only ever see the flaws). I suppose there's theoretically a none-zero chance they were pure fragments of True Art and creative perfection, but Alex's editing notes make that seem unlikely.

#writing advice #rambling #first drafts #gotta say not mad on being called a horrormaster #feel like ive a ways to go yet #horror journeyman maybe

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hazbin-writings-and-musings · 4 months

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Lucifer Morningstar x Reader Romance Headcanons

Some very random and very silly little headcanons about being in a relationship with the King of Hell, and likely the beginning of many more as I learn how to write for this darling cartoon that has consumed my entire brain.

- He's one of the greatest flirts of all time, but with one enormous caveat: he has no ability to consciously flirt with anyone he's interested in. Quips and charming smiles come easy when he wants to banter with friends or taunt a foe, but when he starts to get feelings for you and actually attempts to be smooth, everything falls apart. All traces of his grace, power, and quick wit evaporate the instant he pulls his first move, and it only worsens the more flustered he becomes. His first attempt goes so badly that by the end more than a few things are on fire, and neither of you is entirely sure how. Thankfully, your receptiveness despite the disasters will build his confidence; and while he's never quite as smooth as when he's not trying, he does learn to make use of his charms whenever the moment calls for it.

- While at first he'll keep your relationship on the extreme down low, to the point of avoiding public dates and shows of affection, this is only so he can take the time to be sure you know and can fully agree to what you're getting into. Dating Lucifer Morningstar comes with a great many risks that don't ever go away, and he needs you to understand that while he'll do anything to keep you safe, your life will change forever once word gets out. The people of Hell are going to want to know all about their King's new lover, and he has more than a few enemies on multiple planes of existence you'll have to be wary of. As soon as he's convinced you're aware of the risks and accept them regardless, be prepared for him to make up for lost time and then some. He wants to take you on dates to Hell's most premier establishments, to have you on his arm for every single public appearance, and to proudly and boldly declare you to be his love whenever the opportunity presents itself.

- Genuine compliments go a long way with this man. Though he's got a very healthy sense of pride, he still very much enjoys praise, to the point of nearly giddy delight if he gets it from someone he's crushing on. This goes double if you catch him off guard. Expressing your awe when he unceremoniously summons a mundane item out of thin air will fluster him far more readily than even the most lascivious of flirtations, and he'll be riding the emotional high for the better part of a week. Praising his appearance has an even greater impact, and nothing puts a spring in his step quite like hearing how much you like his hair.

- Touch is one of his preferred love languages, second only to gifts and song. He likes to give as much as he does to receive, but as he's a little starved for affection, you'll find him very disproportionately affected by even the most chaste contact. The first time you try looping your arm through his, laying a hand on his shoulder, and even brushing up to his side he'll be deliriously happy. Once the gates are open, however, you can expect him to start initiating and upping the ante quite rapidly. He'll start taking your hand when it's available, cupping the small of your back as you walk at his side, and even pulling you in with his wings for a feathery embrace, and he doesn't stop there. Eventually, if you're amicable, he'll gladly offer his lap anytime you need a seat. This goes double if you're in public.

- Giving gifts is one of his favorite ways to express affection, but he doesn't just do so willy nilly, even if anything you could ask for will be provided in a heartbeat. Rather, he likes to surprise you by gifting something that you didn't even know you needed, and will spend a great deal of time noting what you need help with and drafting ideas to meet that need until he has the perfect solution. Being a craftsman with eons of experience and angelic powers means he can construct anything in the realm of imagination, and he'll use his skills to tune his creation to your particular tastes. All of this is done in secret to ensure you're surprised when he finally presents his creation. No matter how many hours he spends laboring over these gifts, your surprise and joy always makes it all worth it in the end.

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l1tw1ck · 3 months

Note

dean winchester consumes my mind LAWDDD I beg for anything with that man, surviving off of scraps looking for more top male reader x dean 🤕

- 🛸

No Longer a Mentor

Sub!Bottom Dean Winchester x Top!Male Reader

☆ Word Count: 1,512 ☆

After spending his young adult years with you, his mentor, more than his father, Dean found himself falling for you. He eventually made a move and forever changed the dynamic of your relationship

🕯️: well luckily for u, i just finished this draft :3

CW: Age Gap, First Time Bottoming, Blowjob, Fingering, Frottage (Sort Of), Creampie

Dean’s known you for a couple years, you're a friend of his dad’s and a fellow hunter. You became his mentor in place of his father, who often hunted on his own and left Dean in your care. You liked to stay in your state since the area was basically a supernatural magnet while his father preferred to travel the country so he chose you to finally allow Dean to stay in one place for more than a week. If you were anybody else, Dean would've been annoyed that his dad didn't take him along despite his age and experience. Instead of going to college, Dean spent those years learning to hunt with his father and mostly you. Thanks to all the time you spend with each other, his allegiance to you is almost stronger than his allegiance to his father. He hangs on your every word and treats you like a god. It's thanks to you that he finally accepted his bisexuality. But he doesn't want to tell you that.

He first started feeling differently towards you when you started to become more physical with him. You often hold onto his shoulder with your strong hand or pull him out of the way by his waist and it drives him crazy. He so desperately wants to feel your hands on other parts of his body and vice versa. Your voice makes him weak in the knees and you sound especially attractive when you've found your prey. You're much older than him but he can't get rid of his feelings for you. He tries his best to be content with just having a crush.

After you two had dinner, you decided to drink with him. The two of you laughed and talked over a few cans of beer and deepened your relationship further.

“You ever been in a relationship, [Name]?” Dean asks, slightly tipsy.

“A few. I mostly slept around in my college years and experimented a bit with other hunters but in the end I decided to marry my job instead.”

“Why?”

“I wanted to marry someone I could tell everything to so I tried dating within my circle but none of the hunters seemed to click with me in the ways that really matter.”

“That makes sense…then you probably haven't…” He trails off.

“I probably haven't what?”

“Had sex…lately……”

You laugh. “No, I haven't. Honestly, I think getting laid would really help me. It's been a rough couple weeks.”

“I…” Dean gulps. “I could help with that….if you don't mind…….being with a guy..”

You look at him in surprise. “You're drunk.”

“I’ve only had two cans and a half…You know I don't get drunk that fast.”

You look at him differently, no longer with the eyes of a mentor. “You’ll bottom?”

Dean nods.

You smile in amusement. “I might be a little rough, can you handle that?”

He nods again, more enthusiastically this time.

“Come here.” You motion for him to come over to your side of the table. He stands in front of you. “Kneel.” You order. Dean immediately kneels, his cock steadily growing in size. You unbuckle your belt and pull down your underwear. Dean stares at your cock in awe, body heating up as he watches you jerk it to its true size.

“Fuck. You’re big.” He breathes out.

“Too big?”

“I can handle it.” He says, licking his lips.

“Attaboy.” You run your hands through his hair. Dean blushes. “Ever done this before?”

“Never..” His eyes are trained on your length.

“Is this your first time with a man?”

“Yeah…”

Your gaze changes. Dean shivers in arousal. “How long have you wanted this?”

“A long time…I’ve been…fingering myself, in case we….” He looks away.

You grin, turned on by the thought of that. “You'll have to show me that some day.”

Dean’s face gets redder.

“Now, let me see how you suck cock.”

He's so hard right now. He opens his mouth and slowly swallows your length. He makes a dragged out moan in pleasure as he feels your thickness enter him. Pre cum leaks out of his cock as he imagines how it’ll feel in his ass. He bobs his head up and down enthusiastically, mimicking his past girlfriends by simultaneously swirling his tongue around your shaft.

“Fuck–” You moan. “That's it– good boy.”

Words can't express how happy Dean gets when you praise him.

“You're better at this than I expected, baby.” You smile at his cuteness. He can't hide how pleased he is. “You like sucking dick, don't you? I never thought you’d be a cock slut, Dean.”

He moans. He’ll happily be your cock slut. He pulls away and licks your length in a very sexy way, gaining more confidence thanks to his elevated horniess. “I love your cock, sir.”

“Of course, you’re my cock slut.” You press your hand against his cheek. “Stand up and take your clothes off, I wanna use your other hole.”

Dean’s cock throbs even more. He stands up and quickly removes his clothes, shivering under your hungry and lustful gaze. You pat your lap and he quickly sits on top of you, your shafts pressed against each other.

You grope his ass. “I don’t have any lube..” You trail off, mesmerized by his soft butt.

“I already fingered myself earlier.” He smiles.

“Good boy.” You praise him. “Then spit’ll be enough. Say ‘ah’.” You bring two fingers into Dean’s mouth. He sucks on your fingers in the sluttiest way he can before you take them out and gently push one of your saliva covered fingers inside his soft hole. You give him a moment before adding the second, then you start to finger him.

Dean lets out the prettiest moan you’ve ever heard. “[Name]~” He arches his back and subconsciously thrusts his hips, his cock rubbing against yours. “Your- yours feel so- fuck~” He groans. “So much better!”

You moan as well thanks to the sudden friction. You bring him into a sloppy kiss, the temperature between the two of you steadily rising. Dean pulls away first, more desperate for air, and presses his forehead against your shoulder. “Don't stop– mm- gonna come~” He whimpers. Your fingers find his prostate, an immediate gasp of pleasure leaving Dean’s lips. He throws his head back. “There! Yes!” He moans, grinding against your cock even faster. The combination of his moans, his expression, and his cock against yours all contribute to bringing you to closer your orgasm.

Dean comes first, cum splattering over the two of you. Yours comes second thanks to the amazing look on Dean’s face.

“You're so fucking sexy, Dean, you know that?” You take your fingers out and knead his ass.

“I know.” He gives you a kiss. “I want you inside me.”

You lift Dean up and slowly lower him down on your cock. You both let out noises of pleasure as you penetrate him. He bites down on his lip, thoroughly enjoying the feeling of his ass stretching to accommodate your girth. Once you bottom out, you give him time to get used to it. “Your cunt feels fucking amazing.” You groan. It's hard to hold yourself back but thankfully for you, Dean has no intention of waiting any longer. He places his hands on your shoulders and starts riding you. He quickly loses his momentum as the pleasure begins to overwhelm him. You help him out by grabbing his waist and doing the work for him, allowing Dean to fully enjoy himself.

He knew anal sex would feel good, especially because it's anal sex with you, but he never really had an idea of how good it’d feel until now. Now he's completely blissed out and only able to moan like a slut. It's especially thanks to your quick and rough speed that he's unable to think properly. You couldn't get yourself to go slower even if you tried. His ass just feels way too good.

“Your ass is perfect, Dean–” You groan. “So fucking good-” You hold him and stand up then gently place him on the table after clearing it of the empty cans. You rut into him like a monster, so horny that you feel like you could fuck him all night. You can never get enough of him.

Dean arches his back and shakes as ropes of cum spurt out of his dick. You know you should stop, or at least slow down, but you can't. “‘M sorry baby, fuck–” You moan, hanging your head low as you find your orgasm approaching. “‘M gonna come inside, okay? Gonna fill up your tight fucking cunt with my seed–”

Dean’s conscious enough to understand you. “Ye- yes!” He grins. He's been wanting to know what it feels like to get creampied. “Co- come inside!”

Encouraged by his words, you spill your cum into his warm and welcoming hole. Your thrusts come to a stop and the two of you start to catch your breaths.

“That…was so fucking good.” Dean says, leaning back.

#wicks🕯works #top male reader #male reader #dean winchester x male reader #bottom dean winchester #dean winchester x reader #supernatural x male reader #supernatural x reader #supernatural smut #dean winchester smut #bottom male character

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toruro · 1 year

Text

— ✧ crazy stupid love

pairing. kwon soonyoung x reader

description. your best friend, turned fuck buddy, seems a little too upset about your latest instagram post ...

tags. smut (18+), fwb to lovers, some angst, fluff, confessions, mean dom → switch hoshi, jealousy, arguments (dw there is resolution), angry sex, biting, dacryphilia, degrading (+ discussion of degradation), use of safeword, slightly inspired by crazy stupid love

w/c. 3.6k

a/n. happy birthday hoshi! ngl this has been sitting in my drafts for like 2 months but i figured i should wrap it up and post it today :3

"who's this?" soonyoung asks, holding his phone up to your face. on the screen is a picture that you posted on your story last night, your friend with an arm around your shoulder.

"huh, that's dongwoo," you say, looking up at him with furrowed eyebrows. the back of your head is leaning against his shoulder as your legs are propped up on the other end of the sofa. soonyoung came over to watch the harry potter marathon with you a few hours ago, but with the showing break going on right now, you're both taking some time to catch up on your phones.

"who's that?" soonyoung says flatly, not looking at your face as he pulls his phone back, squinting at the photo. his gaze feels oddly scrutinizing, but you don't say anything about it just yet.

sitting up from your position, soonyoung frowns as you lift yourself off of him to sit across from him on the couch. "you don't remember dongwoo? he went to high school with us?" soonyoung gives you a blank stare. "jeong dongwoo? doesn't the name ring a bell?"

the name does ring a bell, but soonyoung only shrugs and replies, "uh, no i can't say it does."

"no way! we had chem with him! he was really nice and good at labs too," you go on, reminiscing about your memories from your teen years.

"that's weird, i don't remember him." that's a lie—soonyoung definitely remembers dongwoo, but he doesn't remember him ever being as smitten with you as he looks on your post.

"well whatever," you brush off, leaning back onto soonyoung's arm. "he was in town and dmed me asking if i wanted to catch up over dinner."

"a date?" soonyoung asks shamelessly.

you scoff. "no. not a date. just two friends meeting up for dinner."

"a guy and a girl don't meet up for dinner and not call it a date," your friend argues, and then you lift yourself off of him again. soonyoung is slightly annoyed you aren't curled up by his side anymore, but he's even more annoyed by dongwoo's stupid smile on his stupid face with his stupid arm around you.

"what are you talking about? we go out for dinner all the time! those aren't dates," you tell him as a matter of factly, frowning slightly as you do.

"yeah," soonyoung murmurs with a humorless laugh. "and we usually fuck afterwards, so our case is obviously different."

heat courses through your body as the words leave his lips. it's not like he's wrong, but the shamelessness of it all is a little more than you're used to. you're used to the deafening silence and the unspoken words that fill the gaps every time soonyoung leaves you breathless, every time he leaves your brain empty, every time he fucks you.

after he says that, there's that thick, ugly silence wedging itself between you and soonyoung again. you don't like it, not one bit.

"whatever," you finally huff out, not sure if you should lay back down on him or continue sitting up, sensing that soonyoung might want to make a bigger deal out of this than is good for him. "it wasn't a date, i don't know what else to tell you."

neither of you know why you're trying to convince him of this. it shouldn't matter if it was a date or if it wasn't, if dongwoo had an arm around your shoulder, if his touch lingered more, fingers ghosting down your body, up your thigh—

that's what soonyoung tries to tell himself—that it doesn't matter, that none of it matters, that you don't matter to him—at least not like that. too bad he can't control himself. soonyoung can never control himself when it comes to you, and he's starting to wonder if that's a blessing or a curse.

he scoffs, "you're being a real brat right now."

your eyes narrow at him and while this would usually put you in one of those moods—the mood where you want to yank your pants off, have soonyoung's hand in your panties—you're slightly annoyed right now. "what's that supposed to mean?" you ask accusingly, crossing your arms tightly over your chest.

it's a thoughtless gesture but your tits bunch up together and the curve peeks over the collar of your loose shirt. soonyoung stares for a moment and then thinks about if dongwoo looked at you like this. like he wanted to grab your tits, tweak your pretty nipples between his fingers, drink in your moans while he licks into your mouth.

the thought has red flashing through his vision and before you can even think, there's a pair of hot, wet lips on yours and soonyoung is kissing you like he'll die if he doesn't. teeth gnashing against each other as one of his hands wraps around your torso, the other goes up to grab one of your tits, massaging the flesh with his palm.

yeah, you said you were annoyed, but yeah soonyoung is a great kisser and your mind is throttling, going back and forth as you try to decide if you should give in or attempt to hold your own. "soonyoung," you pant as you break away to take a breath, but his lips are on yours again too quickly for you to form a reply.

you find your resolve running thin as you thread your finger into his hair, bringing his face closer as he shifts on the couch above you, knees on either side of you, caging you in. his mouth his pressing kisses to the side of your lips now, peppering your cheeks, and then he's on your neck.

your lips aren't occupied but any words of protest have effectively died in your throat as you squirm under soonyoung when he sinks his teeth into your skin, whining out his name. your hips buck into his for some much needed tension and you can feel soonyoung chuckled against your skin as he licks over the reddening mark.

you feel dizzy when he pulls away and admires the way he's quite literally marked his territory on you. scoffing out loud, soonyoung gives you mean look. "wonder what dongwoo will think about this ..." your mind races at the words—what soonyoung means by that is still a bit of a mystery to you, but the fact that he's so hell bent on keeping you to himself is ... it's turning you on like crazy.

and soonyoung doesn't stop there as he pulls off his shirt and you try to shimmy out of your pants. "what'll he think, huh? his cute little crush ..." he murmurs, looking down at you after your pants are off and thrown to the side, leaving you in just your soiled panties. "his dream high school sweetheart with her legs open, pussy dripping, for a guy who isn't even her fuckin' boyfriend ... like a fuckin' slut."

you gasp when he brings up a thumb to toy with your clit through the fabric, hips jerking up at the contact. "w-what are you—" you're cut off by your own moan when soonyoung pushes the cloth to the side, slipping one finger into your aching cunt without warning. you really want to ask soonyoung what he means by all this, but it just feels so good—too good, and you can't help it at all—your body seems to always give into him.

his finger is already hitting that one spot that he knows has you seeing stars, and your jaw goes slack at how quickly the pleasure is all hitting you. usually, soonyoung likes to work you up to it; starts by playing with your clit for a few hot minutes 'til you're begging for just some fingers inside and then he toys with you for another good while before he finally gives you his cock and fucks you dumb. something tells you today is a bit different.

today is very different, but you have a strong feeling that you won't mind. because all it takes is a few more quick flicks of his wrist and you're crying out his name, saying, "'m gonna cum—soon-soonyoung, 'm cumming!"

you thrash around on the cushions as your orgasm hits you, and soonyoung buries his head into your neck and biting down even harder than before. the slight sting has your senses heightening and your cunt throbs around his fat fingers as he fucks you through the high, not relenting until your neck is littered with hot red marks and you're quivering beneath him.

a content sigh escapes your lips when he slips out of you, allowing yourself a moment to breathe as you start to sit up when soonyoung narrows his eyes at you, unbuckling his jeans in the process.

"don't move," he warns and although you furrow your brows, you comply nonetheless, letting your head fall back against the couch as you watch him shove down his pants and boxers in one go. soonyoung's fat length springs out, hitting against his abdomen as he shuffles his way in between your legs.

pressing his lips together, he asks, "color?" and when the word green is slipping softly from his mouth, he finds it hard to hold back. "fuck, how are you this needy already," he groans when he catches the look on your face—your bottom lip jutted out as you look up at him with shining eyes.

soonyoung grabs your cheek with one hand roughly, shoving a thumb into your mouth as he positions his cock between your folds. you're quick to wrap your lips around his thumb, sucking hard and swirling your tongue in hopes that it'll egg him on to just stick it in already, but instead he just slides his length up and down your folds.

you pout around his thumb but don't stop sucking, letting the drool run down your chin as tears well up in your waterline, and soonyoung chuckles at the look. "go on baby, go on. know you want it," he coos mockingly, continuing to cover his length in your slick but not actually giving you what you want.

"soonyoungie," you whimper when you can't take it anymore, trying to lift your hips yourself so he'll get the message but then he's pressing down on your stomach and holding you in your place.

"be patient slut," he demands, and your eyes press closed when he does, walls clenching around nothing as the word slips from his mouth. "you just came—are you really that insatiable?"

you nod dumbly as he slips his thumb out of your mouth, using the same, wet hand to tightly squish your cheeks together. soonyoung thinks you look so cute like this—puffy lips and lashes thick with tears—and he doesn't give you even a moment's warning when he snaps his cock inside of you in one go.

his balls are pressed against your ass, and soonyoung holds himself there for just a moment before he's pulling back and thrusting back into you. "god fuck—perfect pussy," he groans, thrust after thrust as you throttle against the couch with the increasing force.

you can feel your ass and thighs burn from the way his skin slaps against yours every single time, the sensation only adding fuel to the fire as you cry out his name.

"bet dongwoo thought about this," soonyoung moans as he starts jamming his cock into you less methodically and more sloppy, more hard, more fierce. "thought 'bout having you moaning his name like the pretty whore you are."

you try to mewl something along the lines of, "we're just friends," but it comes out as nothing but a high pitched moan as your second orgasm creeps up on you.

and it's fucking mind-numbing, and you don't think you've ever cum so hard and so fast but soonyoung is grinning down at you as you arch your back and squeeze around his cock so tight it almost pushes him off the edge but no—he's determined to keep going until you can't take it anymore.

"keep goin' baby, i know you can take it." he hardly gives you a second to rest, thrusts slowing only for a few moments as he watches you cream his cock before letting his hands roam all over you.

in your overstimulated haze, you hardly realize when soonyoung flips you over, cock still buried deep inside your hot cunt as you try to stabilize yourself on your knees. his hand is on the back of your neck, pressing your face into the cushions so hard it muffles your moans as his cock batters your buzzing pussy.

he's ramming into you so hard now and all you can feel is white hot pleasure ripping through your body, soonyoung whispering about how you're his filthy little slut, taking everything he's giving you. gripping onto the side of the couch, you try to hold yourself together, you really, really do, but it's too much all at the same time and the word slips from your lips before you even have to think about using it.

"r-red." it's so quiet and hoarse the first time that you aren't even sure if he can hear you so you cry out again, "red, s-soonyoung, red."

it's all a haze when soonyoung slips out of you slowly, giving you both a few moment to adjust as you finally catch your breath over the hiccups of your soft whimpers.

now soonyoung likes seeing you cry, but not when it's like this. he likes seeing you whine and tear up when you're under him and writhing from pleasure, but what he doesn't like is the way your eyebrows are furrowed like this. 'cause when he looks at you now, he sobers up and the anger that fogged his mind just moments ago is clearing up.

"s-shit, i'm sorry," he says quickly as you curl up against the cushions, limbs still quivering from all the pleasure and stimulation. soonyoung wants to reach out, wants to touch you—hold you—and ask you what wen wrong, promise you that he didn't meant to go too far, promise you that he didn't even realize it, but he's not sure if he should.

because right now you won't meet his gaze and he's wondering if he's somehow royally fucked up what's likely the best thing he's got going on his life.

soonyoung's lost for a few moments before senses are snapping into him and he thinks he should get you some water, a towel—do anything except sit here dumbly like he is right now. but when he shuffles away from you and is about to step of the couch he feels a familiar touch around his wrist and he gapes down at you.

"wait," you mumble, finally looked up at him once the tears have stopped flowing. soonyoung stills for a moment, and he's not sure if he should take that as in invitation to move closer or just stay put, but then you're tugging him softly and he can't help but cave. "can y-you lay on top of me?" you ask timidly, and soonyoung gives you a weird look as if to ask, are you sure? "i, uh, i think it'd help me. please?"

that's all takes for him to drape his whole body over you, arms pressed against your side and hands stroke your shoulders. your bare chests are pressed against you and soonyoung swears your rapid heartbeats sync up on the spot as you breaths start to relax.

when all finally feels calm, soonyoung takes a moment to finally ask you the question that's been bothering him this whole time. lifting his head, he finds you looking right back at him. "are you okay? what went wrong?"

"i—yes, i'm okay."

"a-are you sure? you can tell me anything you know—i won't judge, i won't care—i mean obviously i'll care but you know what i mean and—" he starts to ramble, and your lips almost twitch up into a smile, "—and i'm sorry this isn't about me but i'm worried i did something and might have majorly fucked things up and—"

"soonyoung," you say, voice all breathy and light. "slow down, i'm okay."

"are you?" he asks, and his voice is so shaky you frown.

"yes, i promise. i'm, well, i think i just got overwhelmed. it was a lot and happened really quickly and it was a bit more intense than i'm used to," you admit. "not that i didn't like it ... i just wasn't expecting it."

soonyoung watches you carefully as you speak, sitting up and pulling you up in the process too. "i'm sorry—i didn't realize," he confesses. "i was—" he inhales sharply wondering if he should admit his jealousy, "— a bit lost in my own head. i shouldn't have taken it out on you like that. do you want me to get you water?"

you nod and he stands up, heading to the kitchen to grab you a glass. when he sits back down, next to you, soonyoung is relieved when you curl up by his side, gulping down the drink before questioning him. "um, can i ask what you mean by, uh, lost in your head? wait actually—before you answer that—" you pause, "—do you really think i'm a slut?"

soonyoung's eyes widen. "no—fuck, god no. i just—you know, we usually—you know—degrade. if you don't like it i'll stop and—"

"no no, soonyoung, like, i meant outside of sex. do you think i was—i dunno—messing around with dongwoo?"

dongwoo? "no—i don't think you're a slut for that. shit, i'm sorry—i don't even know what the fuck got into me. i just—i don't even know. okay fuck. fuck. okay. i was jealous."

"of dongwoo? we didn't even fu—"

"i know. i know—it shouldn't even matter because we're not exclusively fucking or whatever but i got jealous okay? i don't know—i fucking love you so i saw him with his stupid hand around you and i wanted to punch him in the fuckin' face."

your eyes snap wide at that. "what? you—fuck—what?"

soonyoung hardly even realizes he's confessed until you're looking up at him with those wide eyes and he wonders how he's managed to dig himself deeper into this hole. shit, there's really no getting out of this now. he might as well crawl down further and sit there for the rest of his life and—

"i, uh—i didn't know you felt the same way."

"what? what do you mean the same way—"

"are you stupid, soonyoung?"

"um, kind of."

you laugh and kiss him hard for a second. suddenly you're pressing his shoulders and swinging a leg over his thighs so you can straddle his laps.

"wait hold on," he murmurs, but continues to wrap his arms around your waist as you lift your hips to align yourself over his still hard cock. "a-are you sure? are you okay?"

"yeah," you mutter, kissing him again as you wrap your arms around his neck. "can we take it a little easier from here though?"

soonyoung doesn't hesitate to say, "yes, of course—" but the last word gets cut off by a hitch of his breath when you sink down on him, the two of you moaning in unison at the feeling. his hands are gripping your waist and holding you down as he relaxes, leaning back into the seat as he casually says, "i am never calling you a slut again. or anything degrading for that matter." it's half a joke, half not, and you can tell he's still on edge.

"i like it," you admit as you adjust yourself on his lap, not really moving yet though. "just—i was a bit worried today. i thought you— i dunno. didn't know you liked me too and i didn't know what to think."

soonyoung furrows his brows but can't find the right words to say, so he kisses you instead, pulling you up so his cock drags out of halfway before gently letting you fall back down, tip hitting your walls slowly but deep.

"fuck," you moan into his mouth, holding his head closer to yours. absentmindedly, you lift your hips up again and then grind down methodically, causing both of you to break away from the kiss and look down at the sloppy wet mess where you connect.

and as you both get lost in the moment, fingers grappling at each other's burning skin, letting your bodies melt together, it dawns on you that you and soonyoung have fucked a countless amount of times but this is the first (of many) that you two have made love.

it's an entirely new experience, dreamy eyes and wet, passionate kisses with whispers of love confessions under your breaths and the smooth and damn good thrusts that slowly but surely bring you to the edge.

"feels so good," soonyoung moans, thrusting up into you gently to meet your bounces as you steady him with your arms around his shoulders.

"g'na cum, soonyoungie?" you try to coo, but it comes out as a whimper of your own as you feel that knot in your belly threaten to snap. and when he's nodding into your neck and sucking on the skin, you both fall apart in each other's arms.

cries and grunts mix together in a beautiful song and when you and soonyoung look at each other, sweating, flushed, teary eyed, and so fucking in love, you know that whatever happens with the two of you after this, it will work.

a/n. hope u enjoyed it!

tags. @synthetickitsune @leejihoonownsmyheart @dahliatopia @gyuswhore @hoeforcheol @5xiang @hajimelvr @miriamxsworld @lixiel0ver @josefines-things @mimisxs @kawennote09 @bbyjjunie @rubyreduji (strikethrough could not be tagged)

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saltydoesstuff · 10 months

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Love bites (Raph, Donnie, Leo, Mikey x Reader HCS)

((All characters are depicted as 18+ unless stated otherwise)) I FINALLY got this done! This has been in my drafts for a w h i l e and I'm so glad to be able to share it! technically suggestive??, biting, jealousy, love bites/marks, cuddling ------------------------------------------------ Raph: - He is an alligator snapping turtle, biting is what his species is known for! - He has chew toys hidden around his room so he can have something to bite into whenever he gets the urge, or when he gets frustrated so he doesn't grind his teeth together fighting the urge to bite. He has a very strong bite force and he doesn't want to hurt anyone. - But with you, as soon as you gave the okay for him to bite you he was a little hesitant. You wanted him to bite you? You were okay with it? He could take out your whole shoulder if he really wanted to! - It'd take a little for him to get used to the fact that you were okay with being bitten, but soon he is more than happy to do so. Biting is one of his love languages, and to be able to do it to you without worry of you getting upset really soothed him. - He is extra careful when biting you, starting off with gentle nips and nibbles along your shoulders when you two are cuddling in his room. Every time he thinks he may have gotten a bit hard on a particular nip he will kiss the spot and ask if you are alright, looking at you with the biggest puppy dog eyes. - The only time he would be less gentle in his biting is if he's jealous. Raph is not one to get jealous super easily, nor let it show. He trusts you completely, but sometimes when the person trying to hit on you is just not getting the hint that you are not only not interested but taken- he could only feel the steam coming from his nostrils as he huffs and glared at the person. Afterwards, when you are both are alone- Raph will suddenly pull you by the waist back into his plastron, he head leaning down and snout nuzzled against the side of your neck. "Uh.. Raph?" You ask, glancing at him through the corner of your eye, "Are you okay big guy?" There's a brief moment of hesitation, before there is a sharp pain searing into the spot between your neck and shoulder; making you inhale sharply and wince. - Yeah.. you needed a bit of bandages after that. His teeth had broken skin and had you bleeding. The poor guy felt so bad, apologizing frantically as he patched you up. You had to constantly reassure him that was alright, despite his many protests that no it was not alright. He clung onto you for the rest of the night, mumbling apologies and kissing the bandages every chance he could. - Yet despite his immense guilt for hurting you, he couldn't help the sense of pride he got whenever he saw the mark once the bandages came off. It was a physical sign that you were his, and now everyone could see it. - And if you ever bite back? Oh you will have a very flustered and smitten turtle on your hands. Donnie: - He isn't much of a biter. At least.. at first. - Donnie has a bit of difficulty showing physical affection at times, even more so verbally expressing it. Which is why his main go to of showing love is gift giving. - When you both started dating, there was a long adjustment period of getting comfortable with getting physically affectionate past platonic gestures. It started small, linking each other's pinkies together when you thought no one was paying attention and holding hands when you slept together in place of cuddling. Times in the morning where a very sleepy soft shell will come up beside you as you prepared coffee for you both and gently bunt his head against yours as a greeting as he picked up his mug and headed towards his lab.

- It had progressed steadily and soon you often found yourself being the stress toy for your purple clad lover. He had found it actually much easier to work while you were on his lap, so that's where you stayed most of the time when he had projects to work on but also wanted to spend time with you. You would face him, your legs wrapped loosely around his waist and arms hugging his middle as he had his head rested on your shoulder to peer down at whatever he was tinkering with that day. His claws would gently run up and down your spine in a mindless manner, and when he got frustrated his hands would come up to your love handles and squeeze while he tried to find a work around. - One of these times, he had gotten a bit too frustrated. He had been working on a new upgrade for Shelldon, but nothing he did seemed to turn out the way he wanted. You were half asleep on his lap at this point, having been there quite a while at this rate. That's when you felt his teeth sink into the flesh of your shoulder. - He didn't break skin, but his canines dug into your shoulder just enough to leave a little bruising mark. The feeling was enough to make you jolt slightly with a little yelp, startling Donnie in turn. - He pulled away and looked at you quizzically, not seeming to grasp what exactly had happened at first. Then he takes notice of the mark forming on your shoulder and the man short circuits. - Is quick to apologize and offer to get you an icepack to help the bruising through his own flustered state, stammering and tripping over his words. Yet, his grip is firm- keeping you in place on his lap, like he was afraid you would try to get off after he bit you. - He had chalked it up to simply being apart of his more animalistic instincts, a side he is normally the best at repressing compared to his brothers (at least he tells himself that). Still, he tries to take precautions to avoid making the same error. Unless you encourage the behavior, then he is more lenient towards allowing the action to repeat. Just more gently from now on. - His bites are rare, but when they do come they are gentle and almost teasing depending on the situation. His favorite places to nibble is along your collarbone and sometimes the lobe of your ear. - The only time he will deliberately leave lasting marks is out of jealousy, and as we all know the soft shell is very quick to get jealous. Expect to be covered in marks for the next two weeks.

Leo: - Leo would actually be revealed to be a bit of a biter early on in the relationship, a split moment while you both were play wrestling that he had turned his head suddenly and sunk his teeth into the skin of your wrist while you had him pinned. It had caught you off guard, long enough for the slider to get the advantage and over power you. The next second you found yourself on your back with a very smug turtle straddling your waist. - It didn't seem to click for him at first just what he had done, only as he opened his mouth to tease did he notice the flabbergasted expression on your face did it sink in that he had actually bit you. - His eyes darted from the faint mark forming on your wrist to your face a couple times, looking equally as shocked- only his face definitely felt ten times warmer. - He would try to play it off at first, saying that you two never agreed not to bite, so it was still fair game. "All is fair in love and war, mi vida.~" - The biting would not happen again for a while after that, and Leo would get slightly embarrassed every time you try to bring it up in a teasing manner. Bringing it up in a playful tone that you wouldn't mind being bitten, this only served to make the slider more flustered. - Next time he bites you however, is during a sleepover at your apartment. You both had decided to have a cozy night in, cuddled up on your bed and watching movies through whatever streaming services you have. - You were staring blankly at the screen, trying to fight the effect that gravity was having on your eye lids. Leo was behind you, holding you against his plastron- his snout nuzzled into the crook between your neck and shoulder. You could feel his soft breathing against your skin; not quite enough to lead you to believe that he was asleep, but still gentle. - Slowly, his snout trailed upwards- grazing the corner of your jaw as he moved. You didn't think much of it, assuming he may be simply adjusting slightly to get in a more comfortable position- that was until you felt the tips of his canines catch onto the lobe of your ear, tugging and biting gently. - The squeal that left your mouth is still something Leo laughs about to this day. Your flustered and embarrassed reaction to such an innocent test was hilarious, or so he would say. You would heavily beg to differ on multiple of those points. - Once establishing your comfort with his biting, Leo will bite regularly. Not nearly as much as Raph or Mikey per say, but close. More often than not it's more just to get a reaction out of you, he just loves how red your face gets to the simple actions. Other times to have a physical marker that you were his, even if the bites were only in places that he could see. The action still mattered. Oh don't worry, he would never bite you in public. Only behind closed doors when you both are alone. - If he ever bit you out of jealousy, much like Donnie those marks would be e v e r y w h e r e- and not going away anytime soon. He trusts you completely, but apparently other people won't take the hint that you were his unless they saw you covered in his marks. He takes satisfaction in their reactions and defeat. Only he was your champion, no one else.

Mikey: - Biting is also what Box turtles are known for! It's a form of a courting/mating gesture for his species. - I'd say he'd bite you early on into the relationship in the form of soft nibbles, more playful than anything. Say he has you in his arms and he buried his snout into the crook of your neck, he'll gently nibble at your flesh in-between kisses to fluster you. He thinks your adorable flustered! - It's hard to say if he would ever say why he bites you. He would only answer if you asked him directly about it, as to then he would sheepishly admit what it means to him. If you're uncomfortable with it he will gladly stop though! - If you encourage the behavior however, or even go as far as to bite him back at some point? Oh, he just fell even harder! - His favorite spots are your shoulders, thighs and the tips of your ears, you make the cutest squeaks when his canines nip at your earlobe and he just can't get enough! - His bites will become more frequent during cuddle sessions or play fighting to gain the upper hand, you can't tell me this man would not use tricks to catch you off guard- - Despite it all however, he would be rather gentle with his bites. He knows his teeth are sharp, and he doesn't want to accidentally hurt you. But from time to time he will get a bit rougher and leave marks. He will make sure to apologize if it starts bleeding, immediately offering to patch it up. He isn't as panicked as Raph is, but still worries. - Jealousy is a whole different matter. Mikey trusts you, he really does! But those flirting with you just don't seem to understand that you are taken sometimes.. perhaps a few lasting marks will fix that! - This sneaky bastard will make sure some of his bites are hard to cover up, wanting people to see them. To see who you belong to. - But overall he is very sweet and caring with his affections towards you, no matter what form they take.

#rottmnt #rottmnt x reader #rottmnt leo x reader #rottmnt raph x reader #rottmnt donnie x reader #rottmnt mikey x reader #saltydoesstuff

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spdrvyn · 1 year

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full stomachs, fuller hearts — MIGUEL O'HARA

SUMMARY: miguel has gotten used to eating dinner by himself so you decide to change his nightly routine.

THIS FIC CONTAINS: literally nothing but pure unaldulterated fluff. gender neutral terms mostly but querido is used once.

NOTES: OKAY so this was actually a request for someone but i was a dumbass and accidentally POSTED the draft when i meant to save it for later, i panicked and deleted the post so now i lost the request from my inbox forever 💔 whoever that dude was i hope you find this and i hope you enjoy

Lonely dinners were always a common occurence for Miguel.

That was just how things are. After a long and drawn out day of protecting the multiverse, protecting the city, protecting everything that he's built up and coming home to a desolate penthouse.

It was the norm for him, he had grown accustomed to it. Being isolated in general wasn't a foreign concept to him, but you brought more change to his life that he thought he would hate.

He loves you a lot. You two had been in a committed relationship for a few months now but haven't moved in yet. The every few hours during a day that you would get to visit him or perhaps he could swing by to your apartment were the only times he felt some sense of warmth in his cold, silent life.

It's not like he didn't want to ask you to move in, he does. Oh, so badly. It's just that the constant fear that he's going too fast or getting too excited over this newfound love. He doesn't want to scare you away.

There was also just a small part of him that was getting too used to being around you. It's gone to the fact that whenever he ate dinner, he'd always imagine you on the other side of that table, laughing and sharing stories about how you're day went.

When he snapped out of it, the sight of the empty chair across him brought his spirits down even more.

You were aware of this too.

Which was why you were up at the wee hours of the night, trying to watch an online video recipe for making empanadas. You knew how to cook enough meals to get by but you wanted to try something different for Miguel.

The bar was set a little bit higher this time. You've been over at Miguel's place before and he has cooked for you and every single time you've tried his dishes they were utterly delectable.

You didn't only want to make all of this food for him just because he's constantly eating alone but because he's really expanded your tastebuds ever since you two developed a much more intimate relationship. You could at least owe him one homecooked dinner.

Reminders to yourself, thank Lyla for letting you in and don't blow up Miguel's penthouse.

As you followed the tutorial step-by-step, you couldn't help but let your mind wander a little further. You wondered how Miguel was doing right now.

Yes, he's strong and agile in an almost inhuman way but at the same time you still worried for him. If only he could be here right now, you'd love to have the opportunity to cook with him.

He was grateful that you weren't in the present moment with him right now, his stomach growl in anticipation for it's next meal as he was running and swinging from rooftop to rooftop to get back to his penthouse.

There were many obstacles that he encountered on the way back. The classic old lady getting her purse snatched which gave him severe déjà vu, a bank robbery, and a cat stuck in a tree.

He grew progressively exhausted with each stop, not forgetting that he had his actual duties at the headquarters that he just left from. Sore muscles and a throbbing head, a painful combo for Miguel.

Maybe he should just skip dinner altogether and opt to immediately pass out on his bed, showering in the morning and having a very heavy breakfast. Yeah, that would work...

He glares into the window of his penthouse, not because he was hesitant to make the jump but because the lights were open. He was sure that he left all of his rooms in complete darkness before leaving.

With one final jump, his claws dig into the edge of his window as he pulls himself up. His eyes narrow, in attempts of getting a good peek of what exactly was going on.

An intruder, a home invasion, Lyla having a party without telling him were all of his possible theories.

What he didn't expect was to see you setting up his plate on his kitchen island, plates of delicious smelling food prepared as well.

There was an intrusion, that's for sure. The intrusion of blush on his cheeks, which he quickly had to shake as he took his mask off.

However, as quickly as it disappeared, it came back once he saw the look on your face the moment you noticed his presence.

Pure glee and warmth is how he'd describe it. It's also how he'd describe the embrace that you immediately pull him into, throwing the silverware that you were readying.

It's not like he hesitated to touch you either, he wrapped his arms around you. So glad that he gets to bask in your existence again, bask in you.

"What's all this, querido?"

You separate from Miguel for a brief moment before walking over to the kitchen counter, proudly showing off your creations. "Empanadas and menudo!"

It was like stars clouded Miguel's vision as it all goes through his mind. You came to his house, fixed up a whole meal for him, and for what? He doesn't remember getting you any gifts recently.

So why?

"Are you just going to stare or are you going to try one?" chuckled you, at least it got Miguel to snap out of his daze. His hands reaches out to one of the empanadas and he takes a bite.

Okay, if he was being honest, he's tasted much better before.

But you put so much thought, so much time, and so much care into making this for him. All of those qualities overshadowed the taste and dryness of it, filling his stomach with something else entirely.

This was probably one of the best empanadas he's ever tasted.

"It's really good." He says, swallowing the last of his food, "Best that one I've ever tasted, mi cielo." Then leaning in to press a small kiss to your forehead, warm hand cupping your cheek.

"You're just saying that, Miguel. I tasted them before you got here and they're really dry."

"Still the best I've ever tasted."

He continues to plant kisses on you, trailing from your forehead to the bridge of your nose to your cheek then boarding at your lips, you giggle into the kiss but before it progresses any further, he stops and pulls away.

"Do you want to move in with me?"

request rules here, masterlist here

#spiderman: across the spiderverse #across the spiderverse #spiderverse #atsv #miguel o'hara #spiderman 2099 #spiderman #miguel o'hara x you #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara x y/n #miguel o'hara fluff #gender neutral reader #gn reader #reader insert #x reader #fluff #romance #cute #domestic

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etfrin · 6 months

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❝ ִִִִִִִִִִִִִֶֶֶֶֶֶֶֶֶֶֶֶֶָָָָָָָָָָָָָ cramoysin lips — coriolanus snow ִִִִִִִִִִִִִֶֶֶֶֶֶֶֶֶֶֶֶֶָָָָָָָָָָָָָ ❞

☆　Warning: NSFW | blowjob, mentions of blood, blood play if you squint, coriolanus is his own warning | lmk if I forgot anything

☆　Pairing: young! Coriolanus Snow x fem! Reader

☆　Summary: reader has a habit of peeling of dead skin off her lips and Coryo doesn't like it

☆　A/N: wanted to get this out of my drafts so i can fully focus on my new series!

masterlist | bc: @cafekitsune | navigation

Coryo doesn't notice at first. Your obvious nervous tick that you only do it around people you're comfortable with. Like your boyfriend (Coriolanus). He hates it. He hates it because he can't get you to stop. He even begins to carry chapstick for you and yet no change whatsoever.

When he begins to notice it. He thinks it's harmful behavior, but he realizes he likes seeing your lips swollen and bloody. However, he prefers that it was his doing not yours. Now with realization washing over his bones, he thinks about how to turn this habit of yours around.

He hates it because it shows a clear weakness. He hates it when you do it around other people like Sejanus (how dare you be so comfortable around him?) He hates how pink the flesh underneath the layer of dry skin is. He hates how swollen it makes your lips with your constant peeling. He hates how sometimes your lower lips begin to bleed due to the abuse. Your lips get crimson red and you ignore the flash of pain. If anything you like it and that infuriates him.

It begins with words, how concerning it was. How harmful it is. All of it. That doesn't work despite the frustration he feels. He begins with actions next. Holding your hand every time he sees your lips cracked up, handing you a chapstick from his pocket. You pout but use it.

In the end, however, you ended up the same, your fingers pinching and pulling the taunt skin causing your lips to bleed without care. And it frustrates him and drives him to madness because no matter how much he molded you with his manipulation, he can't seem to get it out of you.

As if this painful action was an echo of your soul. Well, he certainly couldn't let anyone else know of this. If he can't change it, he will reserve it for himself alone. So he makes sure of that.

It starts by kissing you on your lips, freshly soft and hurting too even if it's in public, PDA is good for his reputation even better if Sejanus was present. In the beginning, you used to flinch, overstimulated by the feeling of your lover’s lips against yours. However, just like your habit, it turns into a habit too. The innocent pecks in public turn into dirtier kisses in private.

The dirtier kisses turn into wet, sloppy, bloody make-outs with you being pinned against a wall or on his lap. His hand is woven into your hair, keeping your head in place. His other hand is hooked under your chin, moving your face to whichever angle he wants to control the kiss. He was much more crueler towards your lips than you ever could be.

His teeth dig into your flesh, making the bleeding lip of yours paint his lips red. His tongue savored the taste of iron. His mouth groning into yours. Your blood is consumed by him, with a kiss that is reserved for lovers. It was such a debased manner of claiming you, thinking about it made no sense whatsoever but fuck, it did get his dick hard.

“Fuck,” he whispered as he sucked on your lower lip, letting the blood flow into his mouth. He loved it. He fucking loved it so much being able to do this. He puts you on your knees, your lips smeared red and glistening mostly due to spit. Your pupils blow, your hair messy and your lips swollen.

His love. His pretty love.

You looked stunning with your lips being stretched around his cock. The crimson of your blood being transferred to the skin of his cock, the blue of his veins turning red on the surface. It was mildly disgusting but he felt ecstatic so it didn't matter much.

You take his cock well, despite tears welling in your eyes. You make sure that your tongue worships his cock, especially his tip. You pay special attention to his slit, your tongue licking his dick like the best-flavored lollipop. Your mouth hallowing to give him harsh, blissful sucks that had him gasping, his mind trying his best to grasp reality and not lose himself in pleasure.

You always made it so hard for him to tether to the harsh reality. That's why he has to punish you plenty, to remind himself of what he is, but he doesn't do it without reason. Of course, the reasons are his hypocrisy.

It's your fault that you suck him so good. It's your fault he loves your dick inside your mouth. It's your fault that he loves to fill your tummy with his seed. And it's certainly your fault how good the color of red looks good smeared around his dick.

It's. Your. Fault.

You swallow his cum, tears running down your cheeks as he roughly thrusts into your mouth. His hands are in your hair and he coos at you condescendingly, “That's a good girl. Take it all, don't let it spill, doll.”

He grins at the sight of your tears, he chuckles when he pulls his softening dick out of your lips and you gasp, trying to inhale much-needed air.

He pulls you up on his lap again and kisses you. He gently wipes your tears away, a big contrast from before. He whispered, his lips brushing against your swollen ones as he did so, “You know I won't be mean if you stopped peeling your lips. It's such a bad habit, you shouldn't do it, sweetheart.”

Even though you nod at his words. Teary eyes and throat sore, you know you will do it again. He will make sure to kiss your lips and make you suck his cock when you do so.

Current tag list: @stelleduarte @nowitsmissing @lifeonawhim @le-lena @dollfacedalls @motley-baby @champomiel @slytherinholland @randomstuff2040 @justacaliforniandreamer @emmalinemalfoy @hyuk4s @theamuz @watercolorskyy @littlebiwitchsworld @eir964

@skywalker1dream @darkangelkathiecookiesmith @ben-has-arrived @bucksdonkey @xyzstar @ellie-luvsfics @sunny-deary @daughter1of2anita3dearly @eir964 @nowsyhozey @ayaya-aa @serving-targaryen-realness @hansbasement @louweasleymalfoy @lettersandwhiteroses @arzua10 @wotcherpeak @ever8ea @daughter-of-the-stars11 @blippys-blog @iguanagwen @moonlight-by-the-sea @snowlandstop @badbleep88 @hobireasns @floswife @weeeoosworld @ludasgf

@sushirolliee @poppyflower-22 @dilucpegg3r @sleepysongbirdsings @cupids-scream-queen @fyhhuu

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ghosts-cyphera · 8 months

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okay so porn star ghost is like my new obsession?? he can’t help but read all the tweets and comments and loves the ones where people suggest scenarios for the next videos for the two of you and he just keeps getting kinkier and kinkier in the videos 😍

ooooh my god yes !! one of ps!ghost's favorite things to do before you shoot together is to hang out with you while you get your hair and makeup done, and read the comments out loud to you. not in a mocking way or to tease you. well, to tease you just a little bit—we all know he enjoys turning your cheeks warm—but it's mainly to remind you of all the love coming your way.

"okay that's enough," you laugh as you glance at ghost through the mirror of the vanity. "I want to hear comments about you." "reading the best ones, love," ghost shushed you with a grin. resting on his back on the couch with his arm placed behind his head, he looked casual. relaxed. clearing his throat, he then read: "first I thought I wanted him to rail me braindead. then I thought I wanted her to sit on my face until I pass out. turns out I just want them both to step on me, spit on me, have me as their—," ghost squinted his eyes, "personal—oh! fuckin' right—their personal chew toy," he raised his brows with his grin, "and then revive me so we can do it all over again." "huh." "huh," he echoed your word with his grin. "no one else I'd rather be doin' all that with is all I'll fuckin' say." the quirk of your brow was an unneeded confirmation of "that makes two of us."

ghost also screenshots all the ones where they ship the two of you!! all the comments that say how obvious it is how much you like him, and especially the ones that say that you were meant to be.

he doesn't do it in a creepy way. the comments are simply something he likes to go back to when he's doubting himself or unsure if he's just imagining the twinkle in your eyes as you look at him: the genuine nature of your smile as you kiss him.

he respects that—while you do make him feel special—for you he might be nothing more than just work, but when he feels that sense of longing for you late at night... reading the comments under your videos while grinning in his bed does help.

while ghost is also stable enough to know that feeling jealous over your work with other men is pointless, nobody can convince me that his guilty pleasure isn't to browse through the comments under your videos with graves, lol. because scattered between the comments from white cishet redneck men cheering him on and name calling you (deep breaths, simon), are always comments from your fans.

"ghost would never." "he doesnt know how to touch u like ghost touches u" "he's so focused on his own pleasure that he's forgetting all about her. did he even try to make her come?"

never fails to cheer him up, lol.

oh and bonus from a reply that's still sitting in my drafts, eek:

ghost would also love to reply to the comments, hyping you up with the fans and responding with the most random and cryptic emojis whenever someone even hints towards wanting to see him put a ring on it because of how obvious the sparks between the two of you are.

a fan: ghost, just marry her already. we need to see you living in that little house, hosting dinner parties for real. ghost: 🥸😵‍💫😏

#lo answers #ps!ghost #pornstar!ghost #simon ghost riley x reader #writing this with three hours of sleep under my belt eeek lmao #a:ps!ghost

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writingstoraes · 1 year

Text

three words, eight letters 💌

pairing: charles leclerc/fem!reader

type: written imagine

word count: 4.01k (got carried away)

notes: ok ik there are several of this prompt here but i wanted to give it a whirl :]] also in a slump with my ig imagines so i figured i should finish this since its been a draft for such a looong time lolol no warnings, this is just very fluff-coded!

about: the three times charles almost said "i love you," and the one time he finally did.

Charles wanted to tell you the three aching words he's stored in containment. All he wanted was the right time and the perfect moment, but for the love of his and his alone, he just cannot find it.

He had been racking his brain on how to tell you - because when he looks at you, it's like those three words are just going to explode out of his chest. Every time you smile, laugh, or even breathe in his direction, he realizes just how smitten he was for you. He thought about just saying it out of the blue, unplanned but also when the time felt right. But he also thought about going about it as if it were a proposal because you deserve nothing less than the best he can give.

There were times he thought it was too early to say.

You had just been dating a few months in, and though he felt strongly for you and he did love you, he didn't want to say it too fast or too early out of the fear that it might drive you away.

It's no secret Charles was no chef. He gets a good laugh when other drivers tease him about it but he doesn't pay it any mind. Some people are just good at other things, like how he sucks at cooking but can drive a car that goes as fast as lightning. It is also no secret that he wanted to impress you with skills other than driving - so he doesn't know what entered his mind when he realizes he's on his way to the supermarket as he decides to try and cook dinner.

He scoured the internet for an easy recipe, finally smiling to himself when he finds a simple pasta dish he thinks he can do. To an average person, the dish was really easy to make. So simple that an unsupervised child could follow it. Directions were clear and the website had pictures - he just needs to make a simple sauce, cook some pasta, and grate some cheese. He tells himself nothing could go wrong, what he was about to cook was absolutely just elementary. But he's not an average person, he was Charles, and he is a terrible cook through and through.

Having convinced himself he could cook something so simple, he had forgotten how he messed everything up. He's pretty sure he blacked out, because when he came to his senses, the pasta was overcooked, and the sauce mysteriously evaporated into the air so the pan was just red drops with charred pieces of cheese on the side. He tried to taste it, and he deems it inedible. He was so occupied with cooking it had slipped out of his mind that you were coming over, so the next thing he hears is the sound of your soft knock on his door.

The kitchen was an absolute mess and the apron he wore was extremely dirty — he almost thought about pretending he wasn't home and not answering the door. Of course, he doesn't do that, so he lets you in and the first thing you smell, is cheese.

"Were you cooking?" was the first thing you ask him.

He didn't answer, instead, he planted a chaste kiss on your lips and hurriedly walked back to the kitchen.

He had expected you to laugh once you saw the mess he made by trying to cook just to impress you, but surprisingly, no chuckle erupted out of you.

"Sorry," he says softly, taking off his apron and quickly cleaning up the pots and the bowls he used up.

"I wanted to cook you dinner. I found this recipe online and I thought it was easy," he sighs. "Cooking absolutely hates me. You're okay with getting takeout for now?"

He really did expect you to laugh.

But the second sentence that came out of your mouth: "I'll help you clean up."

It didn't take a lot of time to clean everything up. Thanks to Charles' inability to measure things, he had a ton of extra ingredients, and since he seemed to really like the dish he aspired to cook, you decide to make it for him.

Charles sat at the counter watching you calmly cook the recipe he'd intended to accomplish, your hair parted to the side while you wear the ridiculously messy apron he had worn earlier. He watches you cook the pasta and the sauce at the same time, able to keep your eye on both without neglecting the other. To your defense — the recipe really was easy. But Charles didn't seem to think so, which was why he was sitting on the counter with heart-shaped eyes.

"See, this is what it should look like when the pasta is done cooking," you hold up a piece, cutting it in the middle to show Charles it has cooked through.

"It helps if you check it from time to time if you're not sure. For the sauce, I think you just had your heat on a little too high, but that's okay — you can do it right next time." you smile softly at him, eyes squinting before you shift your attention back to the pan.

Charles had tried cooking before. But up to this day, you were the only one patient enough to actually teach him how. And it didn't help that you looked so beautiful while doing so; hair parted to the side, apron hanging a bit loose on your body, and a smile so captivating it blinds him a little. You weren't perfect, you did laugh at him eventually, but not before guiding him through the recipe he'd chosen. And quite surprisingly, he could cook this same exact dish properly for Arthur next week.

It was clear Charles was no help in the kitchen, so he resorts to hugging you from behind, head resting on your shoulder, breathing slow and steady. He gets a whiff of your shampoo and your perfume he absolutely loved. Your hands soon make their way on top of his that rested on your stomach, thumb rubbing circles on his. Charles was pretty sure you could feel him smile widely behind you, a thought he chooses to ignore because he didn't care anyway, he was at his happiest.

"I lo—" he starts, catching himself off-guard. For a moment, time stops; and he's not sure what to say next. He thought it was too early, but he wanted to say it.

"I love pasta, you know that?" Charles continues, trying to save whatever he's left with. Thankfully, you didn't notice his desperate attempt to cover his supposed mistake.

He tells himself: maybe next time.

Charles' mother had been pestering him for a long time about meeting you. Every time he came home, he was greeted with, "When am I going to meet your girlfriend?"

Even his brothers, Lorenzo and Arthur, were all so ecstatic about meeting you properly for the first time. The two see you around the track for brief periods of time, but in their defense, you haven't introduced yourself properly to Charles' family. It didn't help that Charles himself talked about you like you hung the moon and stars, and made the universe using your own bare hands, because his whole family, mother and brothers aside, all wanted to meet you.

The two of you were finally headed to Charles' childhood home, finally about to meet his entire family. And the word entire was an understatement because everybody was there. From aunts, cousins, and his nieces and nephews, all of them were anticipating your arrival. A lump forms in your throat just by the thought, but you try to battle it with a deep breath as you fixate your eyes on the mirror.

"Do you think they're going to look at this dress and think it's too revealing? Or too short?" you shout from the closet, straightening out the creases of the crisp white dress you were wearing.

Charles enters the room and he swears he could have just died right then and there. How you manage to take his breath away with minimal effort remained a mystery to him.

"I think..." he drags the second word. "I think they are going to be completely in love with you."

"Hopefully not in the same way I am, because I don't plan on sharing you." he softly chuckles, giving you a reassuring smile.

Technically he had said the l word already but to him, it didn't count, only because he didn't say it to you directly.

An hour into meeting you, the entirety of Charles' family adored you wholeheartedly. He didn't want to give credit to himself but he knew they would find no reason to not love you, though he reminds himself to tell you he told you so when you get some time alone together later. He could listen to his family members praise you all day. You had managed to meet each and every one of his side of the family present at the dinner and Charles could not help but admire how carefree you were at interacting with people he held close to his heart. His mom could not stop raving about how great you were and kept asking why he did not introduce you earlier that it makes her slightly mad, which was followed by a hearty laugh and an assurance that she loved you to bits.

You just managed to dazzle and charm every person you talked to. His brothers adored you and you managed to get along so well with them even if your most apparent common denominator with them was racing. His aunts could not stop telling Charles how beautiful you were and how you seemed to be so kind and fit so well with him. They were already asking Charles when's the next time you visit and you haven't even left his home yet. For some odd reason, you got along well with his uncles, too.

But the cherry on top, the last straw, and the tipping point that tugged the heaviest on the strings of Charles' heart were seeing you with his nieces and nephews. He was fond of children, gleeful every time he sees one on the paddock, especially when they are clad in colors of red and yellow, his team's staple color scheme. However, he never knew how disastrous it would be for him to see you with children.

There you sat on the patio, his niece behind you as she messily tried to braid your hair. You had a big smile on your face, laughing at the somewhat theatrical act his other nephew was performing in front of you. In your hands was a glass cup with gelato and a small spoon, raising the spoon occasionally to feed the little girl tying your hair. His lips slowly form a smile and he feels his chest was bound to explode any time soon. He stood there and realized that he was completely, utterly, and irrevocably in love with all that you are. In other words, he was down bad, and he wouldn't even dare deny it.

After the festivities of getting to know each member of his family, you and Charles were finally given time alone in the kitchen. Everyone else was occupied setting the table and fixing everything up for dinner. You were part of it though, he just found you getting the pies in the oven after you volunteered to do so.

"I told you so," he says, slightly taking you by surprise, not enough you drop the pies though.

You turn to him with a sheepish smile, "Told me what?"

"That they would love you," he replies.

"Well, I am very loveable. Can't blame them."

"I know you are. That's why I lov-" he transitions into telling you what might be one of the most important things he's ever going to say in his life.

"Charles, dinner's ready!" Arthur calls out, cutting his train of thought. The two of you shift your gaze to the dining area, seeing Arthur and Lorenzo waiting for the two of you.

That's why I love you. That was what he wanted to say.

Charles sighs, telling himself that maybe getting cut off was a sign that this was not the right time. He'd repeat himself, but he thinks there are other times when he could tell you he loved you without interruptions.

"What were you saying?" you ask, not wanting to hang him out to dry.

"Oh. I said I know you're loveable. That's why I love seeing you charm every single member of my family."

Charles was not having the best day. His own team had botched his home race for him once again and on top of that, he had gotten a 3-place grid penalty in Monaco. Don't get him wrong, he was ecstatic to be home. The warm welcome of the fans was unbeatable. Banners, posters, and the Monaco flag waved around the streets of Monte Carlo.

This season has not been good to him so far. So just once, he wishes to catch a break.

The two of you were walking around the paddock as Charles was headed to the Ferrari motorhome to prepare for the race. His hand was on your waist as he guided you in the sea of people. The track was entirely at capacity - engineers, celebrities, VIPs, reporters, you name it. A few meters from the garage, a reporter from a well-known sports channel calls his attention.

It was routine, and Charles was used to it. You were standing not too close beside the cameraman, just watching Charles answer the questions he was asked. The reporter's inquiries were the usual, he had asked how Charles felt about the penalty, how he thinks the car will perform, what upgrades Ferrari is planning on implementing, and all the likes. You watch intently, giving Charles a small smile every time his gaze went your way.

Though the reporter fixated on Charles' "disappointing home race", his words, Charles knew how to handle the questions and answered them composed and professionally. After all, he has been doing this for quite some time. Deep down, it stirred you slightly as it seemed like the reporter was only recognizing the lapses on Charles' side and insinuating that it was entirely his fault.

You tried to pay it no mind until he makes a passing careless and offensive commentary that you could not just let pass.

"I guess some fans were right - monegasques today have nothing to look forward to. Wonder how they feel when their only driver is not only in a horrible car but is tussling with being nothing special."

Nothing special.

Nothing to look forward to.

Something in your ears rang and your vision went dark. You could see Charles' face drop from where you were standing and your heart absolutely broke for him. He proceeds to nod his head toward the cameraman and made haste and you did not hesitate to follow him right away. If you felt distraught and angered after that comment, you wonder just how he felt after hearing it, and at his home race, nonetheless.

"Charles, wait," you jog slightly, seeing as his pace was a lot faster than you. You could tell he just wanted to get out of there. You reach for his hand, tightly grasping it and he stops walking.

"I'm sorry you had to hear that," he says lowly, upset written on his face.

"Why are you sorry? It's his fault. He was offensive and careless. He humiliated you and worse, what he was saying was not true."

"C'est bon." It's okay. You two were finally at the garage, a little far from the reporter. Deep down, though Charles wanted to at least defend himself, he feels all the energy he has left had been sucked out of his body.

"No, it's not. He doesn't know what he's saying. I don't want to let him get away with that, he can't just go around telling people things like that. You may be too nice to tell him off but I'm not."

"You don't deserve this," you say with conviction, walking away from the garage and prepared to give the reporter a piece of your mind.

You don't plan to cause a scene, you knew better than that. You weren't going to shout or curse, but you wanted to get your point across. Soon after Charles follows you, clearly trying to stop you but was too late when he saw you already talking to the reporter. He had no choice but to walk closer to you, grasping on what you were saying.

Your voice wasn’t loud. From where he was standing, he could see how calm and composed you were while you gave the reporter the lecture he was probably not expecting. The track was fairly busy and noisy. You could hear engines starting, and conversations of people he doesn’t know, which caused his inability to understand and hear what you were saying.

He just stood there - watching you defend him from the asshole of an interviewer, your hands making small gestures for emphasis. The reporter’s face slowly displayed guilt and resentment as if he was clearly affected by whatever it is you said. Soon, the noise around him subsided and the only thing he was able to hear was the last thing you told the reporter.

“I don’t ever want to hear you talk like that about Charles ever again. If you’re only going to disrespect one of the most hard-working people I know, better to not approach him in the slightest. He did not pour blood, sweat, and tears into this sport just for you to utter those words to him.”

Your voice remained soft but it was steady. You turned your heel against the reporter and a cameraman who was clearly surprised by what he just witnessed. You walk back to him, giving him a small smile.

He wanted to just stand there and stare at you. No one has ever done that for him before. He had his fair share of disrespectful interviewers and questions that downright offended every fiber of his being but he always chose to not pay it any mind. It did not help that you were the kindest person he knew — so seeing you decide right away to defend him like that just made him feel all sorts of things.

The two of you proceed to walk back to the Ferrari garage, your hand tightly grasped by Charles. At the time, he desperately wanted to embrace you and whisper just how much he loved you. He wanted to drag you to a discreet corner and just hold your face while he tells you the three words he’d been keeping to himself.

But he remained frozen in awe of you, and so he fails to tell you once again.

“Can I-” Charles starts, trying his best to get up from the couch.

“I already told you. The answer is no,” you reply firmly, shifting your gaze to the man with the slightly swollen cheek.

He huffs a little bit loudly, wanting to show his disappointment.

“Baby, the doctor said no strenuous activities. You just had your wisdom tooth extracted, so no, you can’t go skiing with Joris.” you say as you walk toward the couch, fluffing the pillow his head rested on and putting a soft blanket on top of him.

“Please just rest. You lie down right where you are and I will be preparing dinner soon. I just have to finish something first.”

“My favorite?” he asks, putting on the sweet tone you were always soft for.

“Anything for you, my patient.” you smile, planting a kiss on his forehead.

“Okay. I’ll rest,” he sighs, adjusting himself on the couch to face sideways. “You take care of me so well.”

Charles was under a lot of painkillers. His dentist appointment had been rescheduled hundreds of times as he claims to be too “busy” to get his wisdom tooth extracted. If it weren’t for your incessant nagging because he was already in pain, he probably wouldn’t have pushed through with it. He tried his best to look tough in front of you, but as someone who drove cars that are as fast as lightning, you could tell he was nervous.

The doctor had to reassure him that there would be anesthesia plus painkillers to combat the pain he would be feeling after. After finding out he was medically allowed to eat a ton of ice cream after the procedure, he was more than happy to oblige.

However, the combination of Charles, anesthesia that’s wearing off, plus painkillers is not equal to a drowsy Charles. He had more energy than usual and was naughtier than normal. In other words, he was hyper. He was not muttering nonsense like the famous wisdom tooth aftermath videos on YouTube nor did he want to sleep all day. He wanted to do so many things he was about to get overstimulated. So no matter how weak in the knees Charles usually made you nor how you always give in when he asks you for something, skiing and going to the gym for a heavy workout after he just had his tooth extracted were just things you cannot say yes to.

Not long after, the ever so fueled with energy of a boyfriend you had was deep in slumber on the couch. He probably tired himself out from listing a thousand reasons why you have to let him go with Joris and his friends today. He was ceaseless, after all. His lower body was covered with the blanket that you put on him earlier, chest slowly heaving up and down, mouth slightly apart, and lightly snoring.

He looked so peaceful. For a while, you just sat beside him and went on to study the features of his face. The pointed nose, the tiny freckles that are most evident when the sun hits them, and the eyes that seem to contain galaxies and universes in it.

“I know you’re staring, chérie,” he quietly says, eyes still closed.

“No. I’m just checking to see if your face is still swollen.” you reply, playfully rolling your eyes at him.

“Not swollen. Just say you’re looking for an excuse to study my beautiful face.” he teases, shifting himself so he’s now in a seated position.

“That’s the anesthesia talking, Charlie,”

“Wore off already.”

“Fine, I was staring. You’re so pretty, how could I not?” you say, shrugging your shoulders before standing up to prepare dinner.

“I love you.” Charles says before you could even move away far from the couch where he was seated.

I love you.

You stop in your tracks, your back still facing the Monegasque who was clearly waiting for a response yet slightly relieved he told you what he had been wanting to say for a while now.

“I already know what’s going through your mind,” he says, lightly laughing. “This is not the painkillers nor the anesthesia talking. I’d spent so much time debating on when to tell you.”

“So many accidental “I love you’s” thrown away. Figured there’s never a right time. I love you every single day so why wait for a perfect moment?”

“I love you. So so much.” he repeats.

You turn to him with a smile you can’t contain, walking over to him and engulfing him in what seemed to be the tightest hug you’d ever given anybody.

“I hope you know I’m still saying no to the skiing.” you laugh.

Charles chuckles, and you could feel the vibrations of his laughter from his chest. His grip on you only tightens, sighing in relief.

“That’s okay. I’d rather be with you anyway.” he says, squeezing you once more before breaking away from your embrace.

“Hmm, swaying me with pretty words, Leclerc?” you raise a brow.

“Never!” Charles smiles sheepishly as he puts both his hands up in defense.

“For what it’s worth — though you’re like a child hopped up on sugar earlier, I love you too.”

-------------

tagging: @slytherheign <3

notes: i think this is my first time writing something this long! i also have a 3.5k word work in progress but i cant find the will to finish it lol very angsty though!

thank u sm for reading and lmk what u think hehe <3 also pls send requests for ig imagines for charles! will try to do it as soon as i can!

2K notes · View notes

tenswrld · 6 months

Text

true romance

popstar!haechan x upcomingartist!reader, angst, fluff

summary: haechan's the world's boyfriend — and yours too, i guess.

word count: 4.1k

listen to: true romance - pinkpantheress

a/n: first, sorry that its been so long...im trying to be better about writing but inspiration comes and goes,,i hope you will indulge in whatever this is!!! everytime i hear this song my mind goes to haechan for some reason sooo yeah >_< i have lots of drafts its just a matter of when or if i finish them LOL love yall tho & enjoy

•°. *࿐

tell me, do you view me the same or do you call me a stranger?

"leave a bit after me so no one sees."

haechan is popular — without a doubt one of the most popular artists of your time. everyone either wants to be him or be with him, to which you completely understand. everything about him screams someone who was born to be on a stage, stealing hearts and whatnot. with such a bright personality, it was almost impossible to not like him.

you've had the privilege of getting to watch haechan grow from singing songs he wrote in his bedroom on youtube to him performing them in sold out shows. you're a fan, of course, but somewhere along the way — with crazy luck — you've wiggled your way into his life and into his heart. the two of you were music artists wishing on every star for some kind of breakthrough to the industry (take a guess on who got it). naturally, it brought you together. you were there when haechan reached 5,000 subscribers, and you were still there when he was selling out shows to 50,000 people. you've stuck by his side for so long that you're sure that its where you fit best.

in the moment, however, you're not so sure anymore.

"leave a bit after me so no one sees."

the small smile on your face slowly disappears at haechan's words and hurt quickly settles into your chest. "...why? what would be so bad about that?"

haechan seems unable to grasp how upset you are at his words. he shakes his head with a small laugh. "it's not like that, y/n. but a scandal at this time wouldn't be good."

"a scandal?" you scoff slightly. "since when have you ever cared about that?"

he sighs and runs a hand through his hair that's still slightly wet from his post-performance sweat. "i just don't want to take any risks right now. especially since my album is coming out soon. you understand, right?"

"i fly all the way out here to see you, and you don't want to be seen with me?" you say with a trembling lip and a weak voice. you're hurt and you're angry, but can't seem to keep your tears at bay.

"i didn't say that."

"you might as well have," you spit back at him.

"let's talk about this later, okay? trust me, it would be a lot worse for you than it would for me." haechan picks up his bag and swings it over his shoulder, making his way towards the backstage exit door.

frozen in place overwhelmed with emotion, you watch your boyfriend open the door. you think he's had a change of heart when he pauses at the door and turns back to you, but somehow he's managed to hurt you even more.

"maybe you should take these too," he says, placing the bouquet you made him back into your hold. the smell of roses and sunflowers taking over your senses as more tears well up in your eyes. you hope the flowers hide them from haechan's gaze. though, you're not so sure he'd notice anyway, as he'd already let the door close and left you behind.

•°. *࿐

'cause, baby, i don't care about the fame

people talk. as an upcoming music artist, you're aware that people talk. as the (hidden) girlfriend of a global superstar, you're more than aware that people love to talk about anything and everything that doesn't concern them.

you and haechan aren't on the same level of fame — not that it matters to you. it never mattered to you, really. even as haechan grew and grew and you remained with your significantly smaller (but still decent) following, fame was never your strongest desire.

yet, now, you're wondering that maybe if you were just a bit more famous, more popular, more well known, then you wouldn't feel as far away from haechan as you do right now. even as he sits beside you on the king bed of the luxury suite he booked for this stop of his tour, you feel further away from him then ever.

"i mean, what would people say about us, y/n? about you?"

"you keep saying that, hyuck, but you're not explaining it to me," you say, growing frustrated with him. "why is it just about me?"

he purses his lips before averting his gaze to the floor. "they'll say nasty stuff about you — that you're using me for fame, or money, or something like that."

you shake your head. "but you and i both know that's not true. we've been together for how many years now? their words shouldn't matter." you take hold of his hand and rub your thumb against his knuckles. "you could have nothing and i'd still be here."

"people don't know that," he scoffs. "they'll assume the worst about you."

maybe he's right — you're sure they will assume the worst about you regardless of your long, deep history with haechan. would he start to believe them? you think it, but you don’t ask — too afraid of the answer you might receive.

"what are you so afraid of?" you ask him softly, begging him with your mind for him to look at you.

but he doesn't, his eyes stayed trained on the ground and he can only weakly squeeze your hand that holds onto his own.

"i don't know."

•°. *࿐

tell me, why i don't play about you

every song is about you

haechan finally has a short break in between the legs of his tour and he chooses to spend every waking moment of it with you.

things between the two of you have felt rocky for a while. it makes haechan ashamed to say it, but he's been so focused on tour and his new album that he's pushed everything else to the side. he's a perfectionist and he feels like he's barely made it — he wants everything to work out perfectly and is committed to making sure that happens. he's not sure how long he's been brushing off anything non-career related, but he misses you — even if you're with him.

he flys the two of you out to a small, quaint place in kyoto where he finally gets to enjoy some peace and quiet in his life. he chooses to turn off his phone, not too keen with the idea of his manager berating him about all his responsibilities he'll have to tend to when he gets back. he's on vacation and he's here with you: the one person who's been with him through every up and down.

you're laying in his arms and haechan misses you to the point where it hurts — when was the last time he laid with you like this? the revelation urges him to pull you closer, placing a soft kiss to the crown of your head as you lay on his chest. he sighs into your hair, breathing all of you in. it's silent, for the most part, until you ask a question that rattles haechan's being.

"why do you not sing about me?" you ask it so softly that haechan almost misses it.

"what? what are you talking about?" he's genuinely confused as to what you mean. who do you think he sings about?

"i know a handful of your old old songs are about me, but you don't perform those anymore," you murmur into his chest. "ah, don't mind me, i'm just talking."

you sound embarrassed and defeated and haechan wants to cry. did you really not know? how long has he been pushing you away?

"y/n, every single song i write is about you," haechan professes. "i couldn't write about anyone else if i tried."

his words shock you, even if they shouldn't. you tilt your head up to look up at him and he looks down at you with the softest gaze.

"not that i ever would, anyway," he continues, a sad smile painting his face.

"you mean it?" you whisper to him, wanting so badly to believe him.

when haechan's resolve breaks and his eyes glaze over, you know he means it. his hold on you tightens with one hand and the other comes up to caress your cheek, swiping a tear you didn't even know had fallen.

"of course," he croaks. "you're my muse, y/n. you."

this time, you're wiping his tears away as he cries and cries into your palms. you shift the two of you so that he lies in between your legs, arms wrapped around your waist and face buried into your torso, your hands running through his hair. he's apologizing over and over and doesn't say why, but you know why. you regret ever doubting haechan's love for you — even if he was to blame.

but, just as you're certain you love him more than anything, you know that haechan loves you back all the same.

"it's always been you, y/n."

•°. *࿐

and everybody’s shouting out your name

“you look too handsome to be pouting like that, you know,” you tease lightly, approaching haechan to adjust his tie fondly.

he can’t help but smile at you as you do so, his hands easily finding their place around your waist, tugging you close. “if you tell me to stay, i will.”

you sigh and place your hands upon his chest, allowing you to push yourself up to place a soft kiss on his lips. his lips trail after yours once you pull away and he pouts at you again, eyes begging for another kiss but you push him back ever so slightly.

“you can’t miss this, hyuck, you know that. this could be really big for you!” you beam, swiping a bit of your lip gloss off of his lips. “some important people might be there.”

“but you won’t be there,” he whines. “what’s the point?”

you roll your eyes playfully. “you’ll be fine. now go, your manager has been waiting.” haechan sighs and leans down to place one more kiss on your lips.

you pull away before he can get carried away. “go! and put a good word in for me with taeyong, yeah?”

haechan rolls his eyes but smiles at you, pecking you on the cheek as he bids you farewell. “no promises.”

ੈ♡˳

it’s barely been over an hour and haechan wants to leave.

normally he’s able to tolerate these sorts of things — the bright lights, loud music, snobby people all trying to one up each other. he can get by and chat with anyone as if he’s known them for years. typically, events like these breeze by for haechan. why was he hating every second of it?

it’s lee taeyong’s end of year celebration party. of course, as his junior, haechan was invited. he’s grateful that he’s made friends with lots of other artists under his company, otherwise haechan would have been long gone within the first 45 minutes of arriving. but, haechan stays, mostly because he admires taeyong and does, in fact, bring up you and your songs — which, to his surprise, taeyong says he knows you and enjoys your music.

haechan isn’t given the chance to talk more, unfortunately, due to an excited kim jungwoo who locks an arm around haechan’s shoulder and drags him away.

“ow — hyung! i was in the middle of a conversation!” haechan grits to jungwoo, lightly shoving his arm off of him.

“my bad, it looked like you needed saving,” jungwoo chuckles. “come on, everyone’s been looking for you.”

jungwoo leads haechan to a small circle of people to which haechan knows as his small circle of friends: mark, his company's beloved canadian rapper; johnny suh, one of seoul's most popular djs; and of course there's kim jungwoo, kim doyoung, and jeong jaehyun who make up dojaejung, korea's heartthrob boy group.

"yo, where have you been?" mark greets him excitedly, lightly slapping him on the shoulder playfully.

"what do you mean 'where have i been', i saw you yesterday, mark," haechan grumbles.

"woah, someone needs a drink," johnny chuckles. doyoung is quick to hand haechan a glass of champagne.

haechan takes a large gulp, hopefully to ease whatever tension he feels in his shoulders. he's trying to enjoy the party, he really is, but all he wants to do is come home to you.

"everything okay?" doyoung asks him, concerned with the way haechan seems to be downing his drink.

the younger boy sighs. "yeah, i'm fine, sorry. just stressed out."

"oh, your album is coming out soon, right?" jungwoo remembers, nudging haechan with his elbow. "congratulations!"

the rest of the boys congratulate him and haechan can only half-heartedly reply despite being very grateful.

"i'm sure it'll be great," johnny reassures him.

"saw a lot of love songs on that track list," jungwoo teases. "got a special someone?"

haechan stills at his words and he's caught in an argument with himself. does he mention you? does he say no? is this how he wants people to find out you’re together? before he can even reply, though, jaehyun cuts in.

"speaking of, i heard that kim minjeong has had her eye on you for a while, haechan," jaehyun says. he raises his eyebrows at the younger boy and haechan gulps, the rest of his friends nudging him playfully as they coo at him.

"that's the model, right? and singer?" doyoung asks. "you should talk to her!"

haechan feels like he's going to be sick. maybe he's being dramatic — its not like they're shoving him into minjeong's face and asking him to profess his love. still, he feels like he's betraying you in some way and he realizes he has to go home.

"i can talk you up, probably," mark says. "we're normally at the studio at the same time."

“i heard that shin ryujin has been talking about you, too,” johnny pipes in. “honestly, who hasn’t been talking about you? i’m surprised you’ve done nothing about it.”

doyoung hums. “she seems like your type, donghyuck! i know some people over at —“

"no! no, don't — " haechan places his champagne glass onto a nearby table abruptly and sighs shakily. "just...don't. sorry, i-i don't feel well. i should go."

confused and concerned eyes watch haechan as he rushes towards the nearest exit. he doesn't bother saying goodbye to taeyong, but makes a mental note to send him an apologetic note tomorrow. haechan sees kim minjeong catch sight of him, and he's sure she's about to make an attempt to stop him to chat with the way she looks at him with a flirty gaze. haechan is quick to turn in the opposite direction and flees out of the nearest door.

haechan's manager comes out soon behind him, frenzied after trying to catch up to a frantic haechan. he doesn't get the chance to ask the latter if he's okay, too occupied with calling their driver upon haechan's request.

"home," he chokes out. he's out of breath and he feels dizzy — whether its from the champagne or from guilt, he's unsure.

"i want to go home."

•°. *࿐

i'm in the crowd, can you see my hand?

haechan has reached the encore of his final show of his tour, yet he still feels a pressure that he cannot explain.

its not from all of his seniors and friends that attended in support of him, he knows that. it's not from the different producers and music artists that flew to seoul for him, either. its a pressure that weighs on his chest that has made him feel unsatisfied with each stage, despite putting 150% effort in everything.

the crowd is going crazy for him after he delivers his final ment, and he takes a moment to soak in it all, in hopes it would give him some peace of mind.

then, his eyes finally spot you.

you, in the back row of some random section, sitting with your manager, with a banner with his name on it and a headband with bear ears perched on top of your head. he doesn't know if you can tell that he's staring right at you, but you start waving around the banner with excitement. haechan can't help but adore you even more than he already does.

time stops for him as he realizes that you're here. through thick and thin you've always been there — what has haechan ever done for you? he hasn't given you even a sliver of what you deserve, yet you've never left him. you stayed when he was a nobody, and even now when he's been terribly selfish, you let him be.

there are thousands of other hands waving at him, but haechan can only see yours.

"actually," haechan starts, quickly silencing the crowd. "there's one more thing i wanted to say."

from your seat, you feel your heartbeat quicken. haechan is still standing and looking into your direction and you know he sees you.

"there's someone very special to me that's here tonight."

your heart stops as you realize what he's doing and you can't help but glance at your manager in a panic. fans around you are murmuring in confusion since haechan had already given a shoutout to his guests.

"they've been by my side since i was writing silly love songs in my childhood bedroom," haechan says, a fond smile taking over his features. "i wrote those love songs about them then, and i still write every love song about them now."

the gasps and shocked noises at his confession fall upon deaf ears — to you, you and haechan are the only two people in the world.

"some of you may know her — she's an amazing music artist as well. far better than me, in my opinion, but maybe i'm a bit biased." haechan sees you laugh and can't help but chuckle too.

"my girlfriend, y/n, is here tonight, and i couldn't be more grateful. wave, y/n!" haechan calls out to you. surprisingly, the camera cuts to you as you wave shyly, hiding behind your haechan banner. even more surprising, the crowd cheers loudly for you.

"isn't she cute?" haechan asks. he's delighted when he sees and hears the rest of the stadium agree.

haechan finally feels that weight lift from off of his chest and he feels like he can breathe. he's happy — ecstatic, even — now that the world finally knows he's yours.

"y/n, you once asked me what i was afraid of, and i said i didn't know," haechan recalls gently. "but i know now." he purses his lips to prevent himself from choking up.

"you've always been so supportive of everything i've done. you've done so much for me and i'm not sure how i could ever repay you." haechan sucks in a sharp breath. "i'm afraid that i'll never truly deserve you."

the crowd coos and some fans in front of you turn around to look at you. you're a mess: tears are streaming down your face, and your hands are shaking. you hide pathetically behind your banner again as your manager wraps a comforting arm around your shoulder.

"i'm sorry for making you wait." haechan puts a hand over his heart, and you do the same. "i love you."

the camera cuts to you again and haechan glances at the monitor to get a better look at you as you mouth something back. haechan doesn't even attempt to conceal his smile or to hold back his tears. there's no use.

"i love you, too."

•°. *࿐

say what you want, this is true romance

“did you really have to mention that, hyuck?”

your boyfriend settles next to you on the couch, arm draping over your shoulder, as you scroll through his recent interview with vogue korea.

you pout at him and he's unable to stop the smile that takes over his face. he pinches your cheek and you quickly swat his hand away.

"what? what did i say?" he rests his chin on your shoulder to read the article for himself.

"i mean, does the public really have to know about me crying on our first date?" you complained. you continued scrolling and laughed as you read. "in what context would you ever have to tell vogue about our matching crayon shin-chan pajama pants?"

haechan laughs and presses a kiss to your shoulder. "honestly, i don't remember half of what i said during this interview. or any of what they asked me." he tugs you a little closer to him so that you're leaning against him, laying the two of you down. "all i know is that i'm pretty sure i started talking about you so much that they just called it a day."

"you're that obsessed with me, huh?" you teased.

haechan scoffs, wrapping both of his arms around you tightly. "obviously."

he watches you open instagram and sees you check the likes on your new post. he gasps dramatically, loosening one arm around you to snatch his phone from his pocket. "you posted?! where was my post notification?" he whines cutely.

he's a little too quick to find your account and he then quadruple clicks the picture to give it a like. "babe, why are your comments off? i was about to get really out of pocket," haechan whines again.

"okay, first, don't do that, please. save some of your dignity," you scold him. "but its because people are mean," you admit softly.

haechan's eyebrows furrow together and his tone stiffens. "who? what did they say?"

you sigh. "no one specific, don't worry. some people are just not too keen about us. your predictions were right, i guess," you attempt to joke, but it only makes haechan upset.

"here, come here," haechan beckons you up with him as he sits up. you're still under one of his arms, which he locks around your neck as he tugs you into his side. you're caught off guard, but lean into him anyway, arms wrapped around his torso. haechan lifts his phone up and takes selfies of the two of you, cheeks pressed together as you both smile uncontrollably.

you're both giggling like two high schoolers fresh into a relationship and you've never felt more happy and in love in your life. haechan presses wet kisses against your cheek before you eventually push his face away. still, he steals one more kiss from you — this time on your lips — and you let him.

"okay, i'm posting all of these," haechan declares casually, leaning back against the couch.

your eyes widen and you reach for his phone in an attempt to stop him, but haechan has already dodged you and raised his hand up. "hyuck, don't."

"why not? i'm in love with you, people just have to deal with it," he shrugs. "anyone who has a problem with us can get blocked."

you fall onto haechan's chest and he gladly wraps you up in his arms again. "you're stupid, but i love you."

"good, because i just posted it."

you peer up at haechan's phone and you see that he was true to his word. all of the selfies you just took piled into one singular post to which haechan captioned 'my heart'. you watch as he scrolls through the comments and blocks anyone with anything bad to say.

"wow, you weren't kidding," you say, amused.

"'course not. these people need to learn true romance." he leans down to kiss you one more time, this time letting the kiss linger. he pulls away but rests his forehead against yours, staring at you with eyes full of love. "i love you, too, by the way."

ੈ♡˳

haechan is popular — without a doubt, he's one of the most sought after guys in the industry. he's confident, charismatic, and he's bright. he's everyone's dream guy, it's no secret.

but, above all, he's yours, and you're his as well. he has devoted his heart and life to you and its not a secret to anyone anymore.

this time around, haechan wraps you up in his scarf to protect you from the cold before the two of you leave.

"i already have a scarf on, hyuck, just keep yours," you mumble from underneath the thick fabric.

haechan doesn't hear you (not just because he literally can't) because he's too focused on zipping up your jacket and tugging your beanie over your ears.

"okay," he says as he intertwines a hand in yours. he clutches the bouquet you made for him proudly in his other arm while he carries your bag and his own over his shoulder. "let's go home!"

its bittersweet as you realize how familiar yet different the situation is. you clutch haechan's hand tighter as he tugs you towards the backstage exit door, outside where the press and his fans are waiting.

he doesn't hide you anymore. no, instead haechan shows you off proudly and wholeheartedly as if it was what he was meant to do.

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