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dcxdpdabbles · 4 months

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Alfred's Boy Part 5

@donesodone said: I just wanted to know. Is there a continuation of Alfred's Boy in the Works? If not, that's fine. I just love it and want to see it continue.

Bruce didn't realize how quiet Danny indeed was until Wes appeared. He suspected, of course, that no child was removed from their home by a super secret ex-spy if it wasn't a terrible, horrible reason, but still, he was shocked to see the difference.

Alfred's foster son had a weight around him, wearing his sadness like a depressing cloak. It was apparent that Danny was just tired. As if though he hadn't gotten a good night's rest in a long time, even when he was moving about and doing his chores like nothing was amiss.

Bruce will admit that he hadn't realized that Danny was so sad. He had no previous reference to compare him to, so he assumed that the boy was naturally reserved.

If he's honest, he also thought it was impressive how Danny could take anything in stride without so much as a blink.

Finding out his boss was Batman? Another Tuesday.

Tim's photo album of him? Danny appreciates the art behind photography.

Damian burst into his room, covered in bleeding wounds, he just had to have Danny bind? He took lessons from Alfred and appreciated the change to practice.

What he failed to realize was through all those events, Danny had had a lukewarm reaction, as if he had forgotten how to enjoy things.

Now, however, watching him with Wes, he realizes that Danny is naturally bubbly. He smiled wide, talked a lot with his hands, and while the same sass he had seen before was still there, there was more ease in him wielding it.

"Fun Fact: Tango was initially invented to be done between two men, " He hears Wes say, as Bruce walks by the viewing room the two boys were in.

Unable to help himself, Bruce peeks into the room, fighting the urge to lecture Danny. The reason for the lecture is that Danny is currently sitting in Wes's lap, his back to Wes' chest, and both are staring at the book "Useless Information" in Wes' hands.

Not dating his ass.

"So what you're saying is: Tango is gay," Danny affirms, cuddling into the blankets tucked around him, and leaning further into Wes. "The dance of our people."

Wes hums, "If only we could dance."

"Boys." He calls because he really wants to step between them, but Bruce is already doing that against his kids, and he is done being the civilian in Jason's novels. "Would either of you like to go to an opera tonight? I have some box seat tickets a close friend gave me, but I had other plans and didn't want them to go to waste."

Bruce didn't, but a little white lie wouldn't hurt anyone. He could easily buy them before the kids got to the opera house.

Wes's eyes practically sparkled. Bruce knew they would; he heard Wes play some songs from three famous operas the other day while Danny was showering. "Opera with box seats!? I love to go!"

Danny grimaces, clearly not that big of a fan. "Now look what you did, Master Bruce."

"Please, can we go, Danny?" Wes whines, "I'll let you haunt me if we go."

Danny cracks a smile, and Bruce is stunned by its softness. Had he not noticed how empty Danny's smiles have been until now? "Okay, Okay, we can go. But if I fall asleep you can't complain."

"How could anyone fall asleep at the Opra?"

"Easy. It's boring." Steph snips, leaning on the door frame. Bruce hadn't realized she was there. He frowned in her direction, not missing how Wes rolled his eyes.

"Hello, green-eyed monster. How are you this evening?" He said, making Steph eyes narrow. Danny was swinging his head between them, looking confused, but before he could ask, Wes continued, "Want to go with us? Danny needs more people to cuddle, and my visit has an expiration date."

Steph looks taken back, but her whole face breaks into the largest smile Bruce has ever seen on her face in a while when Danny nods, seemingly embarrassed. "It would be nice to have more cuddles. I, ugh, realized I was going too long without them."

Hmm, that's the fifth time the two have mentioned cuddling since yesterday. Bruce knows he ignored Wes's entrance when he got here yesterday, but maybe he should look into it.

If Alfred allowed, of course.

"I'll go get ready!" Steph shouts, racing down the hall. There is a brief pause before a loud "Hey, watch it!" and quick, distant "Sorry, Jason!"

His second oldest stridden into the room, grumbling at the giant front stain on his shirt. A half-empty cup in his hand lets Bruce know Steph bumped into him, making him spill his precious soda.

"Can't get any peace around here," Jason mumbles.

"I can clean that for you, Master Jason." Danny is quick to say, standing up from his seat. Wes lifts his arm to let Danny wiggle out of his grasp, but Jason only shakes his head.

"Nah, it's fine, kid." With one hand, Jason yanks the shirt over his head. Wes drops his book, and Danny's face goes very red. Bruce has a moment of utter horror, but Jason doesn't seem to notice, throwing the ruined shirt over his shoulder. "I was going to shower after some reading anyway. What are you crazy kids up to?"

"O-Oprea," Danny shutters, staring up at Jason with strange emotion in his eyes. Wes looks like a deer caught in headlights beside him.

Jason's face brightens. "No way! I love the opera."

"You do?" We gasped.

"Yeah, though, I'm more of a play guy myself. I love the theater. Once a drama kid always a drama kid." Jason winks and, oh no, Wes looks to be swooning. What's worse, Danny seems to be swooning too.

"Want to come with?" Wes blurts, and Jason considers the invitation carefully before shrugging.

"You know what? Yeah, I love to. Let me go take my shower then get ready. It's at what time?"

"Seven," Bruce answers, stepping in when both boys seem unable to get their tongues to work. Jason nods, and then a wicked smirk grows on his face.

Bruce is instantly weary.

"Let's make this a family event. You guys don't mind, right?" Jason turns back to the boys, shaking their heads like bobble figures.

"The more, the merrier, Master Jason."

"Perfect" Quick as a whip, Jason pulls out his phone and sends a quick message. He leaves the room, but not before calling over his shoulder "I'll meet you in the main doorway at six-thirty."

Bruce's phone buzzes. He pulls it out, reading the message: Hey losers, Danny wants to see the Oprea. The really romantic one. Do any of you want to join us?

He feels a headache coming on. Especially with Wes and Danny looking at each other with shocked open mouths, looking like they were wordlessly expressing how attractive they thought Jason was.

Tim comes sprinting down the hall. Bruce is unsure what he is doing, seeing as his hair is wrapped in a towel, but he is wearing half of a chicken costume as he runs by. "I want to go, I want to go, I want to go! Don't leave without me!"

Wes squints at the open door hallway before laughing that strange, impish laugh of his. "This place is a riot."

Danny pauses before that same soft smile blooms on his face, and Bruce's heart melts. "Yeah, I like Wayne Manor too."

Maybe Danny isn't as happy as before, but maybe one day he will be. Bruce would be content with that.

#dcxdpdabbles #dc x dp crossover #Alfred's boy #Part 5 #Danny has a medical condition where he needs cuddles #Wes has been in Wayne manor for fourteen hours and is tearing them apart #Jason is HOT and the Amity people know it #Bruce isn't sure if Wes and Danny are a thing #Nothing makes sense at Wayne manor #You bet all of Danny's wanna be sutiors are getting dressed to the nines for opra

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iwanthermidnightz · 6 months

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When I was 24 I sat in a backstage dressing room in London, buzzing with anticipation. My backup singers and bandmates gathered around me in a scattered circle.Scissors emerged and I watched in the mirror as my locks of long curly hair fell in piles on the floor. There I was in my plaid button down shirt, grinning sheepishly as my tour mates and friends cheered on my haircut. This simple thing that everyone does. But I had a secret. For me. It was more than a change of hairstyle. When I was 24. I decided to completely reinvent myself.

How does a person reinvent herself, you ask? In any way I could think of. Musically, geographically, aesthetically, behaviorally, motivationally. And I did so joyfully. The curiosity I had felt the first murmurs of while making red had amplified into a pulsing heartbeat of restlessness in my bars. The risks I took when I toyed with pop sounds and sensibilities on red? I wanted to push it further. The sense of freedom I felt when traveling to big bustling cities? I wanted to live in one. The voices that had begun to shame me in new ways for dating like a normal young woman? I wanted to silence them.

You see, in the years preceding this, I had become the target of slut shaming, the intensity and relentlessness of which would be criticized and called out if it happened today. The jokes about my amount of boyfriends. The trivialization of my songwriting as if it were a predatory act of a boy crazy psychopath. The media co-signing of this narrative. I had to make it stop because it was starting to really hurt.

It became clear to me that for me there was no such thing as casual dating, or even having a male friend who you platonically hang out with. If I was seen with him, it was assumed I was sleeping with him. And so I swore off hanging out with guys, dating, flirting, or anything that could be weaponized against me by a culture that claimed to believe in liberating women but consistently treated me with the harsh moral codes of the Victorian era.

Being a consummate optimist, I assumed I could fix this if I simply changed my behavior. I swore off dating and decided to focus only on myself, my music, my growth. And my female friendships. If I only hung out with my female friends, people couldn't sensationalize or sexualize that, right? I would learn later on that people could and people would.

But none of that mattered then because I had a plan and I had a demeanor as trusting as a basket of golden retriever puppies. I had the keys to my own apartment in New York and I had new melodies bursting from my imagination. I had Max Martin and Shellback who were happy to help me explore this new sonic landscape I was enamored with. I had a new friend named Jack Antonoff who had made some cool tracks in his apartment. I had the idea that the album would be called 1989. And we would reference big 80's synths and write sky high choruses. I had sublime, inexplicable faith and I ran right toward it, in high heels and a crop top.

There was so much that I didn't know then, and looking back I see what a good thing that was. This time of my life was marked by right kind of naïveté, a hunger for adventure. And a sense of freedom I hadn't tasted before. It turns out that the cocktail of naïveté, hunger for adventure and freedom can lead to some nasty hangovers, metaphorically speaking. Of course everyone had something to say. But they always will. I learned lessons, paid prices, and tried to… don't say it don't say it. I'm sorry, I have to say it. Shake it off.

I’ll always be so incredibly grateful for how you loved and embraced this album. You, who followed my zig zag creative choices and cheered on my risks and experiments. You, who heard the wink and humor in "blank space" and maybe even empathized with the pain behind the satire. You, who saw the seeds of allyship and advocating for equality in "Welcome to New York". You, who knew that maybe a girl who surrounds herself with female friends in adulthood is making up for a lack of them in childhood (not starting a tyrannical hot girl cult). You, who saw that I reinvent myself for a million reasons, and that one of them is to try my very best to entertain you. You, who have had the grace to allow me the freedom to change.

I was born in 1989. Reinvented for the first time in 2014, and a part of me was reclaimed in 2023 with the re-release of this album I love so dearly.

Never in my wildest dreams did I imagine the magic you would sprinkle on my life for so long. This moment is a reflection of the woods we've wandered through and all this love between us still glowing in the darkest dark.

I present to you, with gratitude and wild wonder, my version of 1989.

It’s been waiting for you.

#taylor swift #1989 taylor's version #1989 tv #1989 tv prologue

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monzamash · 1 year

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itch — charles leclerc

charles leclerc x you (femreader) | 2.9k summary – spotting charles' weight session in your home gym. that's it. warnings – 18+ (sex, course language) a//n – had to re-upload because the tags glitched out but here's the second fic in the #monzamash special x

The soft, distant thrum of music playing was the only sound travelling through your otherwise peaceful home. You had set yourself up for a quiet afternoon with a glass of iced tea, catching up on work that you’d missed while travelling to a couple of races, watching your boyfriend do his thing. Charles always gave you the VIP treatment, making sure your time away from your life was worth it and of course it was. But nothing could beat the summer break at home in Monaco, with him by your side for a change.

Just as you settled into the couch, an almost finished lemon popsicle in hand and your laptop steadied on your lap, you heard your name being called from the other end of the house. The voice echoing through the hallway belonged to Charles and there was a part of you that wanted to pretend like you hadn't heard him, feeling way too comfy and in the zone to get up again if it wasn’t important.

That was until you heard your name again, a little louder this time and you knew that you couldn’t ignore him. Your man was persistent and even though you loved your time with him during the break and over the off-season, it did become apparent that when he was home, he always wanted you close by to talk to. Like he was trying to make up for lost time but he forgot that even though he had time off, your work life continued much to your dismay.

But you were both working on finding the right balance.

"Where are you?" You shouted back and pulled yourself out of your spot on the couch, on a mission to track down your needy but ridiculously cute boyfriend.

You followed the music, figuring that he must’ve been in the home gym he’d set up a couple of winters ago. The new Coldplay album was playing on the sound system, echoing off the mirrors that lined the otherwise blank walls. It was a messy sight as you walked in – yoga mats that you’d left behind sprawled out on the ground while Charles sat hunched over, scrolling on his phone with his legs hanging over each side of the bench press that was sitting in the middle of the naturally lit room.

He was quick to notice your presence in the door way and chucked his phone onto one of the many towels neatly folded up on the shelf behind him, "Could you spot me, please? Because I nearly killed myself with this weight."

You swear you were listening but you couldn’t help but take a second to drink in his appearance, suddenly feeling a hot flush wash over your chest. He was sans shirt and glistening with sweat, which would’ve been enough to fuel your desires but the tight short shorts and the hair sticking to his forehead was what really got the endorphins running. And as much as you could’ve stared at him for the rest of your days, the last thing you wanted was for Charles to notice how flustered you were by his appearance.

"If that thing is going to fall on your face, there's no way my twig arms are going to stop it," You scoffed, eyeing at the weights behind his head with concern.

"You just have to push it off me so it doesn't crush my chest," He shrugged with a small smirk tugging at the corners of his lips, far too nonchalantly for your liking.

"Oh right – just casually save my boyfriend from being crushed to death. Cool…" You sarcastically retorted while Charles wiped his hands on his shorts and scooted underneath the bar, back squeaking as it stuck to the faux leather.

"Just come and stand behind my head, baby," He sweetly directed and you sighed softly, knowing that he was going to keep lifting the stupid thing anyway and you would much rather be there if anything did happen.

So you shuffled around to where he’d settled himself on the bench, feet and shoulders with the part, ready to save the day if you needed to. Well, kind of ready because the view from where you were standing was not only magnificent but wildly distracting.

“Atta girl.”

Charles’ strong hands gripped the bar and lifted it carefully off the stand, flickering his eyes to each side and making sure they were securely off before bringing it down towards his tensed chest. The grunts that left his throat as the muscles and veins in his arms bulged under his taut skin sounded exactly like the noises he was breathing in your ear last night as he fucked you into the next dimension, the sound immediately transporting you back to the way his hands felt on your supple skin.

His tight chest puffed out in time with his sharp hips that bucked off the bench with each rep and the groans leaving his lips were making it difficult to keep an eye on the job, even though a part of you wondered whether this was all a ploy to get you in here and see this glorified soft core in session. Knowing Charles, it was almost definitely the latter.

"Okay two more," He huffed out, lifting the bar up and down a couple more times, concentration stitched into his sticky forehead.

The grunts got louder the closer he was to finishing the set, again casting your mind back to your night between the sheets, before he slowly pushed it up towards the stand and let your fingers hook around the bar, just in case it slipped out of his slick hands. Because every part of his body was perspiring – his biceps, thighs, neck, chest, the bridge of his nose that was achingly close to your core was glistening and so were you, from doing absolutely nothing. Dripping.

Charles sat up with a groan and took a couple of deep breaths, blood pumping through his veins as you watched the muscles on his rippling back contract, “You’re soaked – let me grab you a towel.”

This was your chance to try and shake the daze you were in. It was pathetic the way he wound you up without even knowing, hypnotising you with something as innocent as a workout. Maybe it was because you had been blissfully enjoying each other’s touch the second he dropped his luggage in the doorway, jumping into bed and hardly leaving it ever since.

Or because he was the sexiest creature you’d ever seen and seeing him gleaming with sweat and groaning like an animal was a massive turn on for you. Either way you were soaking after his performance, desperate to have those sounds breathing down your neck as soon as humanely possible.

He graciously took the towel you were offering with a wicked smile, wiping his flushed face and roughly drying his hair before spinning around 90 degrees on the bench, gazing up at you with the same smile but now with that devious sparkle in his eye that always had you hook, line and sinker.

"Merci."

It rolled off his tongue too perfectly and you couldn’t control the eye roll, knowing how much he loved teasing you in French. He also loved how quickly he could get you naked when he spoke in his native tongue, the mischievous smirk and his Monegasque charm leaving you spellbound.

"Any time," You sang in reply, attempting to leave the room before you combusted on sight but you were stopped by a fistful of fingers grasping the hem of your black cotton shorts.

Charles gently pulled you back, a hole already burnt into the material from his eyes zeroing in on your curves. He loved every inch of you, worshipped the air you breathed and pinched himself daily that you’d stuck around with his crazy stupid schedule and maniacal whims. God, he adored you and ached at how effortlessly beautiful you looked in your matching crop top and shorts, waltzing around the home you had built together.

And he couldn’t hide the way he felt when you looked around, bottom lip clamped loosely between his front teeth, chewing the inside of his cheek and admiring how fucking lucky he was to have such a beautiful creature in his grasp. Heaven sent.

"You look very cute today."

He was smitten; holding your hips in place as you slung your arms around his shoulders. His hands subconsciously trailed down to the back of your thighs and teased the thin hem on your shorts, fingertips melting into the skin like butter as he watched your gorgeously bright eyes narrow.

"I'm not wearing a bra just for you," You flirted, nudging closer to his chest and needing more than just the heat from his hands on your skin.

"I can see that," He hummed matter-of-factly as he gazed over the sheer top that had been driving him crazy all day, adoring the way your nipples hardened at his stare before pressing a peck to the bottom of your sternum.

Charles continued trailing soft kisses across your stomach as you brought your hands to his tousled brown hair, trawling your fingertips through the damp locks and massaging his scalp. A soft, barely audible whimper slipped from his lips as he tilted his head back and caught your eyes, succumbing to the drowsiness and closing them for a quiet moment.

"That feels so nice."

He practically whispered before opening his eyes and pulling you closer with his hands that were now hidden under your loose top, fingertips following the arch of your spine as you leaned down and captured his soft lips. He tasted salty, tongue deliciously warm as you explored his mouth with your own. You loved the way he inhaled you and swallowed the moans he was causing. The intimacy you shared with him never seized to make you weak in the knees, putty in his hands.

"I wanna watch you fuck me in this mirror."

Your words were muttered against his pursed lips and Charles’ eyes were wider than a flying saucer when you pulled back ever so slightly, noses bumping together from how close you still were. He huffed out a soft laugh as you nodded towards the mirrors lining the walls around you both, eyeing your reflection beside him.

"Really?" He asked incredulously, a humorous expression ascending onto his blushing cheeks as you returned the raised brow, confused by his question.

"Do I look like I'm joking?" You scoffed, the deadpan look never faltering from your face and causing his goofy smile to fall; finally realising you were being serious.

"Well... no you don't but... Do you want me to do you against the mirror or on here?" Charles asked frowning down at the bench before bouncing up and down on it to make sure it was sturdy enough for your spontaneous demand.

"I don't really care," You almost moaned, smoothing your hands across his strong chest and over his tense shoulders, leaning down and pressing your lips to his damp neck again.

"I don't wanna risk breaking this because it was the last one at the shop so I guess we could do it against the mirrors…”

The hesitation in his voice caused your brows to furrow in disappointment and your hands to drop from his shoulders as you stood up straight, looking down at your boyfriend with a frown.

"Jeez, don't get too excited about it."

The sarcasm was dripping from your tone as Charles shook his head fervently, quickly reaching out to pull you back. All he could think about daily was making love to you in different places in the house and shockingly, the home gym hadn’t been ticked off the list but god, did he want to. He was already twitching thinking about it, the tightness of his shorts already cutting off circulation to his legs.

"No, no. Baby, look at you – I am so excited but you caught me off guard and I was just trying to think… what’s the word? Logically… Logistically…”

"It’s logistically but honey – you called me in here and made me watch you gyrating and make sex noises, and then you told me I look cute and now you're caught off guard that I want to have sex with you?... Are you okay?" You joked, pressing the back of your hand against Charles’ sticky forehead, pretending to check if he had a temperature or if he even had a pulse at all.

He laughed, borderline giggled and shook his head, "Well, when you say it like that, it makes sense. I just didn't think you'd get turned on over that."

You couldn't help but laugh in his face at his assumption, "You're shirtless and sweaty and wearing shorts that are so tight that I can see your dick... There's no way you didn't think this would get me going."

You wagged your finger up and down his body and Charles simply shrugged, hardening by the second, "It didn't even cross my mind but if it's getting your going then let's fucking go!"

Charles slapped his hands down on his lap and immediately reached for the drawstring on your shorts. “These are definitely coming off…” He murmured, eyes narrowed in concentration as he slid them down your legs.

"I promise if we break the bench, I will personally call every single shop in Monaco and replace it.”

You stepped out of the cotton material around your ankles, grasping Charles’ shoulders for balance as he tugged on his own shorts; finally liberating himself of the constriction caused by his own unadulterated arousal. He had no control when it came to you.

"Jeez, you are horny," Charles teased as you climbed on top of him; his tactile hands guiding your knees to each side of his thighs with a devilish grin.

He was in his element with you on top of him; he had the perfect view of his girl and he could feel how ready you were for him when you rested on his thigh, your slickness cool against his soft skin. He loved how dialled in you were to his touch, every little wince or mumble making his heart pound harder in his chest – blood rushing to his dick every time you whispered in his ear.

But he knew that you knew how much he craved having you like this so of course he teased you in spirited retaliation, like any man desperately in love does to the one he adores the most.

“You know that if you ever need to get some inspiration, you can always come in and watch me work out, baby. You like it a lot, huh?”

"I do and I intend to enjoy this so shut up."

Now he was really hard, worked up beyond his limits.

As a distraction from his edge, he went back to what he did best – kissing you. You were both as pent up as each other, embarrassingly desperate for two people who had been going at it hammer and tong all weekend but you couldn’t get enough. It wasn’t until the firm grip on your hips tightened even more that you finally felt how enthusiastic he was about fucking you in his gym.

"You taste like lemons," Charles mumbled as your tongues collided.

You couldn’t mask the smirk on your lips as he kissed you again, reaching down and massaging him over his boxer briefs. You pulled away slightly from the kiss, ghosting his swollen lips as you softly stroked him in your hand.

"I bet if you'd seen me eating that popsicle, you would've felt the same way as I did watching you lift those stupid weights," and Charles chuckled at your annoyingly accurate theory, his warm breath fanning over my face before seizing your lips again, wiping that smirk on your sweet lips.

"I probably wouldn’t have lasted, let's be absolutely honest, ma belle," He whispered back with a knowing smile, completely unashamed to be enamoured by the woman slowly stoking him, eyes fluttering shut from the pleasure surging through his body.

“Maybe next time, sweetheart.”

Charles simply smiled, eyes barely open as he watched your bodies connecting in the most intimate way, tongue quickly swiping across his bottom lip in preparation for your kiss. As you gripped him tight in your hand and bottomed out on his achingly hard cock, you pressed your lips to his, forced to swallow the loud moan falling from your lips.

l' attente, you whimpered before a sharp inhale caused Charles’ eyes to shoot up to your closed ones, searching your face for any pain.

"You good?" He asked softly but swiftly with his hands firmly placed on the outside of your thighs, gently holding you in place until you have him the okay to move his hips.

"So good," You breathed, tilting your neck back and arching your spine to change the angle a little, feeling that sweet spot deep inside you being brushed ever so gently, “You feel amazing right there.”

Once you both hit that toe curling, achingly good rhythm that you had perfected together, Charles rested his chin on your shoulder and watched how mind-numbingly hot you looked riding him in the mirror, his hands firmly grabbing your ass and spreading you out like a meal he was desperate to devour.

"My god..." He growled as you looked down and followed his eye line, biting your puffy bottom lip when you realised he was watching himself disappear inside you, every inch taken care of. And you too, were groaning at the sight.

“You look gorgeous riding my dick, baby.”

"We look sexy," You were quick to correct, breathless from both the sight of Charles’ large, veiny hands leaving prints on your backside and his relentlessness to have you losing your goddamned mind on his dick.

Both had you twisted in knots, the pit in your stomach tightening with every thrust and all you could do was thank whoever had invented weight training because boy, were you reaping the benefits now. Sex in your home gym – tick.

+ + +

parlez-vous français? (the sequel to itch)

a//n – i had so many asks for 'you're soaked' with baby boy charles so i hope you liked this quick, mostly naughty piece x next on the schedule is danny ric, i believe and i'm horny just thinking about the idea i have for him so stay tuned x masterlist | askbox

#charles leclerc #charles leclerc one shot #charles leclerc imagine #charles leclerc smut #f1 smut #formula 1 #monzamashmasterlist #the monzamash special #charles leclerc x reader #f1 one shot

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transvampireboyfriend · 4 months

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Teacher AU

Eddie who studied to be a music teacher but right before graduation Corroded Coffin takes off. It's fast, they have to mail him his diploma to avoid a crowd of fans at his classmates' ceremony.

But it goes as fast as it comes, a few years of touring and then popularity wanes. Eddie is not bothered by it, neither are the guys, they enjoyed it while it lasted, yet they all knew they couldn't live like that for the rest of their lives, so it's all for the best.

Eddie lives off of album and merch sales and writing songs for other bands and artists now. This is when his best friend, Chrissy, tells him she heard the music teacher was retiring at her old pre-school.

Eddie applies for the vacant position, fearing they won't like his former star status but ultimately, after a good interview, he gets the job.

Steve who became a pre-school teacher and started teaching as soon as he could. He lives with his best friend, Robin, and coaches the town's junior basketball teams (both boys and girls) on his off time.

Steve who's nearing his thirties and getting a little frustrated with his love life. No matter how many dates, no matter how many 6 month relationships, no matter how many 1 year and a half and moving in together debacles, he still just never quite fits his partners, he never feels that thing, that excitement everyone talks about. No matter how amazing the person. Robin calls him an idealist, says he's being naïve. Steve sticks by his instinct to hope for more.

Steve who stares (a little slack-jawed) at the new music teacher for a good minute when he comes pick up his kids. Trying to take in the wild hair pinned up by a pencil, the glasses around big cow eyes, the tattoos peeking out of his long sleeves, the dimples.

He was aware Mrs. Wallace retired and a new teacher was brought on, he just hadn't expected his heart to race at the mere sight of him.

Steve completely misses his name, has to ask him to come again when those beautiful brown eyes get a mischievous sparkle and look expectant, like he got stood up waiting for an answer.

"I said it's nice meeting you" the new teacher repeats

"Oh! Of course! You're very nice. I mean it's very- It's nice meeting you too" Steve says and forcefully shuts his mouth, pressing his lips into a thin line.

The new teacher's smile just gets bigger and he nods and leads the kids to his class.

Robin thinks it's beyond funny that Steve doesn't know the new teacher's name, but she refuses to explain, refuses to tell him what it is and encourages him to find out on his own.

Steve approaches the guy in the teacher's lounge at lunch.

Beyond whatever the hell makes Steve's brain functions jump ship when he's around him, Steve does think it was rude of him to stare and not even introduce himself when they first met.

His mother may have been real shitty, but she didn't raise someone impolite.

"Hi," Steve starts, making the other man look up at him from underneath his glasses. Steve looks away for a second to avoid getting lost in those eyes.

"I think I owe you an apology," Steve starts, the other teacher raises his eyebrows and lowers the book in his hands.

"I'm sorry?"

"That's my line," Steve points out, he's rewarded by a small laugh and dimples, "I was rude," Steve explains, "I was staring and I didn't even introduce myself. I'm Steve." he smiles and extends his hands to the other man.

"I know." the guy says, smiling big enough to show his teeth, but gently taking Steve's hand in his own "I told you, they were nice enough to put all the names in my schedule, remember?" he says,

Steve freezes.

How come he didn't think of that? His schedule is the same, all schedules for teachers have everybodys' names. They even distributed new schedules for everyone when the hiring decision was made, Steve just hadn't bother to look at it yet, knowing the important bits hadn't changed.

Steve would facepalm if his dominant hand wasn't otherwise occupied.

"Uh-" Steve starts, thankfully the other man cuts him off,

"Hey," he says, with the kindest eyes Steve has ever seen, and still gently holding Steve's hand, "It's cool. I get it." he tells Steve,

Then he asks, "Are you a fan?"

Steve stares again.

Excuse him?

Judging by Robin's smirk accross the room, Steve's face must be as red as a ripe tomato.

Steve yanks his hand back.

Well, that's presumptuous. Just because Steve isn't very good at thinking whe he's around him, doesn't mean that- Sure, Steve came prepared to flirt with him, but he does not appreciate beaing treated like he's easy.

Steve frowns at him before turning around and promptly walking away. He guesses he'll have to go check his schedule if he wants to know the name of this jerk.

#stranger things #steve harrington #eddie munson #steddie #steddie au #steve x eddie #steveddie #steddie headcanon #.#bonus when robin meets Chrissy shes like oooooh. oh wow. love does exist #steve is that vine of the lady on the bus yanking her hand away agagshsjsksjs #sorry if this isn't at all legible. I don't know if the confusion is clear here idk idk im sleeby

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signedkoko · 3 months

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Howdy! I have to questions, one is that I was wondering if I could be 🎧 anon? Secondly I was wondering if could request Stolas x Reader and like a blurb of reader becoming a parental figure to Octavia?

Stolas X Reader [Romantic]

In which Stolas introduces you to his daughter, and how your relationship with Octavia blooms.

Stolas and you met around the same time as his divorce was going through its first stages

You yourself were getting a divorce and had recommended to him the attorney you had for handling settlements, as well as offered the support of 'hey, at least we aren't alone!'

Later, he ran into you at a formal gala, where you both indulged in getting to know one another; you joked about how your divorces went and updated one another on life

Stolas found you so easy to talk to, and he found himself a lot less stressed when he was able to share his thoughts with someone more level-headed

Your dating life comes slow as you both work around your past and try to forgive yourself for where you've ended up, but it all feels so much easier having someone with you

You are the one to make things official, inviting him to a private dinner where you confess

Even though you told him you'd wait till he was ready, Stolas was ready right then and there and gladly accepted

He is noticeably happier and has much less trouble when Stella tries to ruin his mood

When it comes to his daughter, though, he doesn't want to rush her into meeting you, and you are more than fine staying away from his home until she is ready

Stolas mentions that he is seeing someone and tells her he won't take it any further until she gives him the right of way

When she does ask to meet you, you make sure it's just the two of you and go out for brunch at a cafe you think she'll like

Octavia is also pretty harmed by her mother, so she is very reluctant to open up to you, but she knows she likes you

You are calm, never in a rush, and always go with the flow

She likes talking to you about her parents because you never seem jealous or rude, and meeting up with you eventually becomes a habit

You really win her over when you buy concert tickets and say, 'Accidentally got a second, so you really would love if she could come with you! Oh, wha! Its your favourite band? Mine too!'

You have an amazing time, and Stolas is overjoyed to see her come back chatting you up and excitedly showing off her merchandise

He hadn't seen her like that in so long

Octavia is more than happy to have you as a parent

The first time she calls you mom is an accident

It happens on your birthday when she gifts you a record of the album you both heard at your first concert together

She never stops calling you mom after, though

Author's Note - I love Octavia sm she deserves a NICE HAPPY AND HEALTHY HOME RN!! RIGHT NOW!!! And welcome to the blog anon!! I added you so long ago and I feel so bad for the wait you had to go through,,,plz forgive me,,,,

#koko writez #helluva boss #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel x reader #helluva boss x reader #reader insert #x reader #stolas #stolas x reader

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wh0reforcoriolanussnow · 4 months

Note

a singer!reader where she writes a super sexy song and the fans are going crazy because she's never written a song like that. she goes to some talk shows bc she has to promote the album of the song, and they ask her about it and if its about her boyfriend tom blyth!!!!

Never be like you || Tom Blyth x singer!reader

A/n: lowkey need Gracie to do a cover for this song bc I feel like her voice would suit it sm and I wanna see her do this type of vibe!!

Warnings: fem!reader, swearing

Wc: 719

Tom Blyth x singer!reader au masterlist

“Our next guest, is a Grammy nominee for best new artist, performing her single never be like you for the first time, please welcome Y/n Abrams!” Jimmy Fallon announces as the crowd erupts in cheers. You take the stage, the crowd hushed in anticipation. The spotlight illuminates you, clad in a sultry ensemble that's a departure from your usual style

“What I would do, to take away, this fear of being loved, allegiance to the pain,” Your fingers wrap around the mic as you close your eyes. “Now I’m fucked up, and I’m missing you, He’ll never be like you,” The atmosphere shifted, and you began to sing the sultry lyrics in a way that surprised even your most dedicated fans. The audience was captivated, and whispers of amazement spread like wildfire.

“I’m only human, can’t you see? I made, I made a mistake, please just look me in my face, tell me everything’s okay,” Your hands, usually strumming a guitar, were instead in your hair as you tilt your head back almost in a sexual manner. The crowd, initially unsure how to react, soon becomes entranced by your unexpected venture into this new style.

The song's sensual undertones echoed through the venue, and you felt an electrifying connection with the audience. This style of song was something you’ve never done before. That’s why you really enjoyed producing it. It brought you out of your comfort zone; a deliberate choice to express a different side of yourself.

"How do I make you wanna stay? hate sleeping on my own, missing the way you taste," your voice, rich and alluring, wraps around the lyrics with a sensuality that catches everyone off guard.

"Stop looking at me with those eyes," a smile naturally played on your lips as you delivered that line, intentionally fixing your gaze on the camera, fully aware of Tom's watchful eyes. The lyrics, tailored to hit home with your boyfriend, spoke directly to his captivating deep blue eyes – the kind that always left you spellbound, and no amount of time together could diminish the flutter of nerves they induced.

"like I could disappear and you wouldn't care why, now I'm fucked up and I'm missing you, he'll never be like you," Backstage, Tom can't tear his eyes away. The way you command the stage, blending vulnerability with a newfound confidence, stirs something within him.

He had heard snippets of the song before its release, but experiencing it live brings a visceral intensity he hadn't anticipated. The lyrics, once a private exchange, now echo through the venue, leaving everyone captivated.

As the performance concludes, the audience erupts into applause, their astonishment turning into admiration. Tom approached with a grin, desire in his eyes, expressing his awe at your unexpected and alluring rendition. "That was incredible," he whispers, pulling you into a passionate embrace.

Word spreads like wildfire. Fans, accustomed to your previous style, can't believe the transformation. Social media buzzes with speculation, theories swirling that the song must be about someone special.

In a promotional interview, the host, with a sly grin, asks the question on everyone's mind. "Rumors are circulating that the inspiration behind your latest single is none other than your boyfriend, Tom Blyth. Care to shed some light on that?"

A coy smile played on your lips as you glance at the crowd, then back to the interviewer. "My supporters sure are smart, huh?" You giggle softly to yourself. "But, yes, it is about Tom."

"It's quite different to my usual style, but it was very fun to compose," You smile. The revelation sends shockwaves through your fanbase. Speculation turns into fervent curiosity, and they dissect the lyrics for clues about your relationship with Tom. Social media explodes, and you find yourself at the center of a newfound spotlight.

Tom, for his part, embraces the attention with good humor. During his interviews for "The Ballad of Songbirds and Snakes," fans playfully tease him about being the muse behind your provocative song. He takes it all in stride, admitting with a smile that he's flattered by the attention.

"So, Tom, we've all heard your girlfriend's new song 'Never be like you' and everyone knows it's about you. What are your thoughts on it?" the interviewer inquired, a playful glint in their eyes.

Tom chuckled nervously, a light blush creeping up his cheeks. "Well, it's certainly an interesting experience," he replied with a sheepish smile. "I'm flattered, to be honest. My girl is incredibly talented, and she expresses herself very well through her music, something I admire,"

As he spoke, his castmates, Rachel and Hunter, couldn't help but interject with mischievous grins. "Oh, come on, Tom! 'Interesting experience'? That song is steamy!" Rachel teased, eliciting laughter from Hunter.

Tom rolled his eyes, feigning annoyance. "Alright, alright. Maybe 'interesting' is an understatement. But seriously, I'm incredibly proud of her. She was worried her new style of music not being a hit, but she nailed it."

The banter continued, but beneath the teasing, there was a genuine camaraderie. Tom's supportive words reflected not only his admiration for his girlfriend's artistic expression but also his pride in you.

As your relationship becomes a public fascination, the dynamics of your performances shift. Fans attend your shows not just for your music but to catch glimpses of the chemistry they've read about online. The narrative surrounding your love story becomes intertwined with your artistic identity.

Tom's become a regular at your shows, grinning from ear to ear as he watches you own the stage. Your private affair has gone all public, and now it's like you and him are this dynamic duo everyone's rooting for. The crazy twist in your music style? It's like you cracked open a whole new world for yourself, and at the same time, it's made you and Tom this inseparable couple in the eyes of your fans.

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sunaluv · 5 months

Text

GIVE ME YOUR LOVIN'

someone's looking at you looking at him

feat: connie & eren, wakasa & shinichiro

CONNIE & EREN

connie watched curiously as you laughed at whatever it was eren said to you. you threw your head back and cackled as your unfiltered laughter was heard over the music. ironically enough, you had that same, unashamed laughter when he fell for you. every time he thinks about how he fell in love with you, he finds himself covering his cheeks like a bashful little school girl.

he can't really blame eren for getting to you first, he had only told sasha, ymir and historia about his little crush on you. and you were so attractive in your own way, it was a matter of time before someone else would make their move on you. ‘yeah,’ he convinces himself, ‘if i had acted first, maybe she would be laughing at my jokes right now.’

connie had been so deep in his thoughts, he hadn't even noticed you approaching the kitchen island he was sat at.

"you alright, con?" he felt a blush coming on at the sound of your voice. "what'cha thinkin' about?"

maybe it was the remnants of alcohol in his system, but he swore you've been looking at him a little differently lately, like there was a hint of lust in your eyes.

he cleared his throat, calming himself down. "nothin' really," he wiped his hands on his jeans. "what've you been up to?"

he listened intently as you told him about the past week, about the pile of assignments you've been neglecting and the girls trip you went on recently (he smiled as you whipped your phone out, swiping through albums and he had to act like he hadn't seen the ones you uploaded on your finsta). he had to hold back the hurt on his face whenever you mentioned eren though.

time seemed to pass whenever he talked with you. he found himself genuinely interested in what you had to say, and became more of a listener than a talker when the two of you conversed.

jean elbowed eren, nodding towards the two of you chatting by the counter. "you ever noticed how con looks at your girl?"

eren looked between jean and the pair of you, shrugging his shoulders. "no? how does he?"

"like he wants her," he laughed at the glare eren shot him. "my sources have told me that he's had a crush on her before you two started talking."

eren was silent, taking a sip of his drink. jean would've probably considered what he meant, but a call of his name from the bros at the beer pong table managed to grab his attention. with a heavy pat on eren's shoulder, he left the said boy alone with this newfound information.

old eren would've pulled the two of you up on it immediately or caused a giant scene which was sure to embarrass the three of you. but since getting to know you, he had become a calmer person, more rational even. instead of storming over to the kitchen, he decided to let you be. he trusted you, and you obviously trusted him as you already told him about you and connie when you started getting serious.

he let connie get a feel of what it was like to be with you, just for tonight. it was as far as he was going to get anyway.

SHINICHIRO & WAKASA

sometimes, when you come into the bike shop with your cheery greeting, wakasa likes to pretend you came for him, despite the fact you greeted everyone.

he likes to daydream about you prancing in your summer dresses which heavily contrasted his oil-stained overalls tied at his waist. he likes to daydream about you scolding him about overworking himself, your pretty, plump lips drawing into a pout complaining about 'how you'll forget about me one day...'

to which he'd respons with 'you know i never would' before hissing that pout away.

yeah... this man was in deep.

instead, he nodded his head at you as he passed, to which you reciprocated with a smile of your own. the faint scent of your perfume hypnotised him, his eyes following your figure as you lovingly embraced your boyfriend, shinichiro, who was tinkering away at his own bike.

the slithers of conversation he could grasp closely resembled the ones he has with you in his daydream, he sometimes gets scared someone can read his thoughts.

with a heavy sigh, he tore his gaze from his leader and his girl, putting the finishing touches on the automobile in front of him.

wakasa didn't imagine this to be the first time he got to really embrace you.

"it'll be okay," he spoke your name tenderly, drawing small circles into your arm. "we'll all look after you for as long as you need, alright? we all know how much shin adored you."

at the mention of his name, your cries grew harsher and louder. you squeezed at his waist harder, burying your face in his chest as if to take out all of your hurt on him.

"what will i do, wakasa?" his heart shattered at the defeated look on your face. "my boyfriend is dead..."

wakasa was stuck. he didn't know how to console you right now, not when he was feeling so guilty for thinking about your flushed body against his whilst you were crying over his late leader.

so he said nothing, letting you fall into him once more. he only hoped takeomi would get to your place soon, anyone other than him would probably be a better support system for you right now.

takeomi arrived shortly after, a fruit basket and other comfort items with him, along with his condolences. you told the boys you were going to lie down, giving wakasa the chance to excuse himself from you.

the two of the stood in your kitchen, speaking in hushed terms.

"you're such an asshole for what you're doing, ya know?"

"i know," wakasa breathed out. "...i know."

"shinichiro died, wakasa."

"i said i know, damn it!" he finally looked up at takeomi, a mix of rage, guilt and disgust swirling in his eyes. his eyes widened as he lowered his volume.

"boss left her in our care," takeomi breathed out. "do you really think it's wise to do what you're doing?"

whether or not it was a rhetorical question, wakasa did not answer. the silence mixed with with the tense mood left the air heavier than usual.

wakasa knew he still held strong feelings for you and it seems others are starting to catch on as well. thus he had to distance himself from you and let you grieve shinichiro properly.

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theboytatu · 4 months

Text

2023 EXO WRAPPED

newton's 4th law states that for every "it's so over" there's an equally opposite "we are so back" so taking that into account i present to you the 2023 EXO WRAPPED so we can take a look at how truly insane EXO's career was this year

so we started out the year on a positive note. baekhyun was about to come back from the military - every other member was available, and the rumors of an EXO comeback were growing stronger. things were looking UP!

sadly - our first "it's so over" comes into play a mere month into the year, when news broke that lee sooman was being ousted from SM after a hostile board takeover resulted in him reaching out to hybe to get enough juice to fend off the witch hunt

no one knew what the fuck was going on - every idol in that company was sending out coded messages begging for help and all the scheduled comebacks got delayed, half assed or canceled. thankfully the succession plot got discarded quickly and hybe dropped out from the race, resulting in kakao investing in SM as major shareholder and lee sooman officially leaving the company.

after a few months of uncertainty EXO were finally reunited for their anniversary fanmeeting - we are so back!!! this was the first time the 8 members were together on stage since 2018 so of course everybody was losing their shit. and then we got confirmation that the comeback was finally happening.

this was it. it was happening. the FIRST full group comeback IN FIVE YEARS... we had confirmation, so they couldn't take it back - right? RIGHT??? except.... the weeks kept passing and as time went on we knew nothing else about the comeback. the members were radio silent and SM was still getting their shit together from the hostile takeover. both EXO and shinee's comebacks got delayed (among others) and no one knew what was supposed to happen. every day we got another news article about the EXO comeback but the EXO in question was nowhere to be seen - the full spectrum of the exol experience:

what happened next constitutes what experts have called the biggest "it's so fucking over" in recorded history so you better buckle up....

the comeback was first confirmed on social media by numerous music producers who were often seen working with EXO. SM was still radio silent but we KNEW the album was being made at the very least. expectations were building up and the members were seen practicing together in the SM building.... and then.

kai got notified that he had to enlist WITH ONE WEEK'S NOTICE.... the comeback wasn't even done shooting. kai was dying his hair a different color everyday to cram an album's worth of content in a couple of days. in hindsight this was truly our biggest L of the year

and then SM lied about how the military had suddenly changed the rules of enlistment so they didn't know kai had to go. AN ACTUAL MILITARY OFFICIAL had to go on the record to disprove this and it turns out SM had lied because they fucked up kai's paperwork and he couldn't defer any more. just your average SM fuck up

anyway. we'd facen worse right? an exo member enlisting has never been a problem to release a comeback - so after sending kai off to his bootcamp the rest of exo went right back to business. that album wasn't gonna record itself.....

and then on june 1st the second airplane hit the exo towers.

the amount of articles and updates we got every hour from different parties was insane. no one knew what the fuck was happening and SM was busy fighting this PR nightmare with a smear campaign against CBX and by association the rest of EXO

exoplanet was on fire but we had a silver lining: SM stock was plummeting to an all time low. it looked like EXO freedom was on the horizon, but in a classic EXO move the members had ghosted us. no one had heard from them except for legal statements from their lawyers - but hey at least SM was a dumpsterfire!

mind you the comeback hadn't even been announced.... at this point we assumed that was the least of their worries and then word got out that the members had been trying to film the MV in the middle of the lawsuit and SM hadn't allowed CBX entry to the set... which was later disproved but no one even questioned that cause it's literally something SM would do

and then in what constitutes the single most bizarre album rollout in kpop the comeback was officially announced - with two prerelease songs and three MVs! and three members in a legal battle! sounds very 2014 right? well exols didn't give a shit, and then we got our next we are sooo back. the hype was THERE

after a lot of 📈📉📈📉 the lawsuit against SM was settled and CBX decided to remain in the company for the sake of the group, and the songs they prereleased were actually good so it was safe to say exoplanet was on their WE ARE SOOOO BACK era.... but SM wouldn't let us have it so easy so of course this happened immediately after

they started cancelling albums and understocking distributors but nevertheless... WE PERSISTED. the album was finally released and once again EXO, true to their title of the cockroaches of kpop, managed to break several records despite SM sabotaging them left and right. they had ONE music show win and THREE streams but it didn't matter. EXO was back.

after their comeback promotions lasted a whopping SEVEN days and then dipped from the face of the earth exoplanet was finally looking back to normal

baekhyun drunk texted fans on bubble and held live spaces on twitter where he fell asleep and snored in front of 30 thousand people. kyungsoo dropped a mini album that had been recorded and ready to go for over a year and then rumors of someone leaving SM started circulating on korean foums again. exols were busy counting down the days to sehun finally hauling his ass to the military and every time EXO SC had a fanmeeting we were sure he was going to leave. and THEN....

surprising absolutely no one, kyungsoo didn't renew his contract with SM and left amicably in mid october. suho sent this bubble the same day the news came out btw

we were back in our it's so over era which at this point for EXO and exols it's closer to our we are so back era.... it's kinda hard to keep up but at least nothing else was gonna happen. it was already november, the end of the year was coming and no one expected anything else in exoplanet for at least 6 to 8 months. this is already longer than exo's career so i'll just wrap it up in a second part!!

#exo #baekhyun #chanyeol #kyungsoo #jongdae #junmyeon #minseok #jongin #sehun #kai #chen #xiumin #suho

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flowerandblood · 6 months

Text

Formula for perfection

[ Michael • Gavey x painter student! • female ]

[ warnings: sex content, fingering, sexual tension, angst, smut, humiliation, swearing, brat taming ]

[ description: After what happened between them, Michael decides, albeit reluctantly, to fulfil his promise. He tries by his own efforts to recreate what he felt then, to understand what made him experience such pleasure, however, when he tries to satisfy himself something is missing in his equation. But what? Sexual tension, angst, domination and humiliation kink, bitchy, ironic Michael. ]

Part 1 − Equation without solution

* English is not my first language. Please, do not repost. Enjoy! *

My other works: Masterlist

_____

It seemed to him that after everything that had happened between them his brain had stopped working, slowed down only to handle his basic vital functions like breathing, but apart from that he felt a void in his mind.

She told him she would stay with him for the night if she could sleep in his shirt and he felt his cock pulsate hard in his sweatpants at the thought. He just gave it to her and watched as she buttoned it up with her back turned to him so that he couldn't see anything.

There was something exciting to him about fucking her without seeing her naked body, that even though he had come inside her a moment ago she was still a mystery to him, an unsolved equation.

He turned off his lamp when she lay down next to him, his bed was single and thus cramped, there was no way their bodies wouldn't touch at their slightest movement, however it didn't seem to bother her.

He turned away from her and she snuggled her body against his back to fall asleep in that position. He couldn't sleep for a long time, thinking and analysing what had happened between them, coming to the conclusion that she had planned it, that she had only done it in order for him to help her, knowing that he would not agree otherwise.

Helping her was not in his interest, he had his classes and theses to write, however, he was a man of his word and figured that since he had taken on this task, he would do to her what he had promised.

He hadn't opened his eyes in the morning when he heard her slowly get out of bed and begin to dress, pretending with a pounding heart that he was asleep, and only opened them when he heard her leave.

He breathed a deep sigh of relief then, feeling strangely excited and anxious at the same time in her presence, unable to decide what he thought of her.

He decided not to bother himself with it.

The next day, at her request, he came to her class. She ran up to him with a thick album in her hand, inside the pages had coloured markers which she had to stick on beforehand. They stood at the side of the classroom so as not to disturb other people who were just painting a model.

"Look. I'd like you to examine all these portraits and decide whether you see any correlations in them other than the golden ratio and the Fibonacci spiral. It is basic that with a portrait the golden division lines are on the eyes and mouth, and with a bust on the head and shoulders, however, this is not enough for me."

She said lightly, looking at him with great excitement, and he sighed heavily, not feeling like doing it at all, seeing no point in it.

"What if I don't find anything like this?" He muttered indifferently, looking through the book she had given him without much concentration. The girl shrugged her shoulders.

"Nothing. Just try."

Even though he decided right away that he would move on from what had happened between them and not dwell on it, he couldn't forget the feeling she evoked in him when he was deep inside her, when she apologised to him, when she looked at him with that innocent, pleading gaze.

A pleasant shiver ran through him at that memory and he licked his lower lip involuntarily, letting out a loud breath.

He had never before come fucking himself with his own hand while watching any porn as hard as he had with her then.

He recognised, however, that it wasn't a matter of her as a person just her behaviour and what she said.

Thus he imagined this scene again and again as he satisfied himself, only with the body of another woman, the kind he liked to see in films. This brought poor results and only aroused his frustration.

Something was missing, but he had no idea what.

He replayed in his head again and again that night, what she had done, what she had said, the way she had kissed him, the way her hands had roamed his body, what he had felt and why. He had no idea what he was supposed to do to evoke the same reaction in himself again, to feel it again.

He thought perhaps it was the result of surprise, the excitement of the unfamiliar and unknown that made him perceive everything so wonderfully strongly, and now that he knew it had no effect.

Discouraged, he began flipping through the album she had given him, looking at the paintings page by page, bored. Suddenly he stopped and went back a few pages earlier.

The positions of the figures in both paintings formed an isosceles triangle.

He took a notebook and wrote it down, drawing a schematic next to it.

He was intrigued to notice in the various paintings that the people portrayed were inscribed in various geometric figures, usually triangles or regular shapes, delineating the entire composition, on whose lines were the most important points of the work.

He was shocked at how something that looked so chaotic and haphazard could be so well thought out, arranged with such great precision.

When he showed her the result of his work the next day she began to squeal with delight, making him not know what to do with this reaction.

"Thank you! Now it all makes sense!" She exclaimed cheerfully and threw herself around his neck as if it was the most joyous day of her life.

She let go of him, looking at him with those big eyes, and he grunted, correcting his glasses with his pointing finger when he felt them slip off his nose.

"Are you going to use that?" He asked out of the blue, wondering if his work would have any results, or if he was doing all this for nothing, just to satisfy her curiosity.

"Yes, now I know why something didn't seem right in my portrait. I chose a composition where her arms are too close together, and I have to position her so that her figure forms an equilateral triangle! Would you like to see the end result?" She asked him lightly, and he muttered under his breath and nodded, looking around the room without much interest.

"How can I repay you?" She asked softly, and he looked at her surprised, wondering if she had already forgotten what they had done.

"I have already received my payment." He said with a mocking smirk, however this did not seem to discourage her at all.

"True." She said with a smile, turning away from him as if nothing had happened, going back to her easel and sitting down on her chair beside it, putting his notes aside and glancing at them, marking with a pencil how she should change the composition without paying attention to him.

He felt that he had made a mistake in his calculations as soon as he looked at her bare thighs sticking out from under her girlishly light dress, pleasantly framing her waist and breasts, his manhood pulsed painfully hard.

They were completely alone in the room.

He bit his lower lip, feeling that he should move from his place and just leave, that he was standing in front of her like an idiot, but the thought that she might have wanted more made his heart pound hard in his chest, the pulsing blood rushing quickly to his lower abdomen.

Why did she take him off balance so easily?

"What is you problem?" He asked annoyed, feeling that he had to understand what she was talking about, that it wouldn't give him peace if he just left her alone now.

What did she want?

Why was she so fucking unpredictable?

She looked at him surprised as if she had completely forgotten his presence and blinked, her face perfectly calm and gentle.

"What?" She asked and he rolled his eyes, frustrated, correcting his glasses again with an impatient gesture.

"What do you fucking want? Hm? Do you like playing with boys?" He asked with the grimace of amusement characteristic of him in moments when he felt insecure and needed to quickly regain control of the situation.

She looked at him in disbelief and completely froze in half-motion.

"I'm not playing with you. I never wanted you to feel this way." She muttered with some kind of embarrassment and fear that she might have hurt him, although that wasn't the point at all.

After all, he felt absolutely nothing for her.

"So what did you want? Fuck strange, desperate guys?" He laughed in disbelief and she moved uncomfortably in her seat.

"No, just you." She said softly causing him to completely freeze, some type of error entered his brain and his thought processes stopped completely.

He pressed his lips together, glancing down at her thighs again, thinking about what was between them, that he felt like pressing her against the wall, turning her to face towards it, and fucking her from behind.

He swallowed loudly when he saw her gaze drop to the bulge in his trousers and turned away, wanting to leave the room immediately, terrified, but her voice stopped him.

"Do you want me to come to you again? To help you with your problem. A favour for a favour." She asked lightly drawing further, not even bestowing a glance on him. He looked at her over his shoulder, shocked, wondering if she was really proposing what he was thinking about.

He stood stunned for a moment simply staring at her, not believing that he was completely hard, that if he could he would have thrown himself at her and ripped off her fucking panties.

"To fuck?" He choked out without thinking and she burst out laughing, glancing at him with amusement.

"Yes."

He couldn't believe he'd agreed, afterwards he completely panicked and walked out, leaving her alone, wondering what he'd actually done.

What if someone finds out? If he gets kicked out of university?

On the other hand, Kyle was constantly visited by girls who moaned so loudly that he could hear them in his room. However, he was rich, he could afford to be so thoughtless.

He could not.

He had been restless all evening, fearing what would happen, whether she would laugh at him, whether she would be disappointed in him when she saw how little he understood and could do when it came to female fulfilment.

He shuddered when she knocked on his room door. He stood up, opened it for her and simply let her in. She stepped inside with a confident stride as if she had been in his place many times before.

She sighed heavily, as if tired after a long day, pulled off her shoes and threw herself onto his bed, laying down on her stomach, snuggling into his pillow.

He stared at her for a moment, again feeling the same emptiness in his mind as before, glancing down at her thighs and the part of her buttocks that was visible from under her dress. He licked his lower lip, feeling a throbbing in his trousers at the thought that he could approach her, that he could touch her.

He moved with a slow, uncertain step towards his bed, her eyes closed, her face gentle and calm, as if she trusted him completely although he didn't understand for what reason.

After all, he could hurt her, take advantage of her, how could she be so reckless?

He sighed quietly under his breath in surrender, pulling off his glasses and putting them down on the desk. He sat down slowly beside her with a loud creak of his bed, his large hand went to her soft thigh and rose higher, tentatively squeezing her firm buttock.

"− so pretty −" He hummed more to himself than to her and she murmured with some kind of contentment, he felt her buck her hips up so that they came out to meet his warm hand.

"− do you visit many boys like this? −" He asked with amusement, slipping his fingers under the material of her panties, squeezing her flesh in his hand, massaging her in a circular motion, a shudder ran through her body every time he came anywhere near the heat between her thighs.

"− only you −" She mumbled, and he swallowed hard, feeling squeeze in his heart at her words, running his fingertips over her hot entrance, gathering her wetness that slowly began to flow out of her, feeling her body shudder each time he rubbed against her clit again.

"− why? −" He asked drily, applying pressure to the point hidden between her folds, he heard her gasp loudly for air, surprised and thought with amusement that she enjoyed it.

"− I − I don't know −" She babbled with increasing difficulty as he finally discovered what pressure from his fingers and where made her quiver, his movements accompanied by the louder and louder click of her moisture, her hips pushing against his hand, trying to find a stronger source of friction.

"− are you no longer able to put together a meaningful sentences? − all you need is for someone to tease your pussy a little and you can't concentrate? −" He asked amused, sliding the tip of his middle finger into her, her body arching, a loud, surprised, innocent moan escaping her lips.

"− I'm sorry −" She mumbled in embarrassment, and he felt her words in his cock, all swollen and throbbing, felt the whole situation turning him on more and more.

"− yeah? − and that's why you're leaking like a slutty little thing? −" He sneered and slid his finger deeper between her tight, hot, rough walls, pulsing hungrily against him.

"− please − a little higher −" She whimpered, and he licked his lower lip, changing the point of pressure, suddenly feeling a rough spot between her muscles, which when he touched her whole body went through a shiver, her lips parted wide.

"− yes, please, there, please −" She cried out loudly clenching her fingers on his pillow, moving her hips to the rhythm of his hand, feeling his heart pounding hard, watching enthralled as her wetness dripped and slicked with every movement of his finger.

"− so fucking wet from rubbing her cunt − that's what you came here for, right? − do you like someone to watch while you lie spread open like a little slut? −" He hissed, a sudden loud, pathetic moan escaping from her throat, her moisture beginning to spill out of her, her walls clenching tightly on his finger.

He rose from his seat and knelt behind her, unbuttoning his trousers quickly, feeling that he couldn't resist any longer, that he wanted to feel her.

"− lift your hips up and slide your panties down − now −" He commanded coolly breathing loudly and she immediately obeyed his instruction.

He lowered his boxers and his swollen, throbbing cock slapped against her buttocks. She whimpered, feeling it, squirming beneath him. He grabbed her thighs and spread them apart in front of himself like a book.

"− shut the fuck up − are you in such a hurry? − so desperate to feel my cock? − fucking slut −" He growled and forced his way inside her in one sure, brutal thrust, immediately imposing a fast, aggressive pace on her, she pressed her cheek against his pillow and cried out loudly, her lips parted wide in surprise at how intense the sensation was.

"− oh fuck −" She whined, moaning and quivering, her walls clenching against him giving him a resistance he didn't seem to mind though, panting loudly along with her as he held her firmly by her waist, slapping his thighs against her bare sticky buttocks with each thrust.

"− you have no fucking shame − do you want me to fucking fill you? − hm? − a bit of cum wouldn't hurt this tight little pussy, would it? −" He hissed out between intense, fast, deep stabs of his hips, feeling that he was on the edge, that this was what he needed, what he wanted, her moisture running down her thighs.

"− Michael − oh God − yes −" She mewled in ecstasy as her body was finally shaken by her orgasm, her face expressing pure delight, her walls were clenching down on him making him just give up.

"− fuck − shit-shit-shit −" He babbled with his eyes closed and his lips parted, panting heavily as he finally cum inside her, his warm semen filling her core. Their bodies moved for another moment with the loud, sticky click of her juices, his hands stroking her buttocks.

It was fucking mind-blowing.

He looked at their joined bodies and just breathed, concentrating only on the pleasure and relief he felt, only on the fact that he wanted to do this with her as often as possible.

There was no other option.

"Wanna be my girlfriend?"

_____

@at-a-rax-ia @daemonskelitsos @@alphard-hydraes-blog @travelingmypassion @valeskafics

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ashsolar · 2 months

Text

favourite thingᯓ★ln4

chapter two, chapter three, chapter four, chapter five

Coming back to a place you once thought of as your home is never easy, what's even difficult is saying goodbyes to the things you once cherished. It's been years since your grandfather died and you know it's time to sell the one thing you had been dreading to sell in order to set yourself free.

𐙚

chapter one

𐙚

Goodbye's were never easy, you learnt that the hard way. The wind knocked you off your feet. Monaco was still the same, the richness in the air, the sweet enveloping smell of the coast. You hadn't been here in years. Your grandfather's death had hurt you a great deal. He was the one who raised you after your parents death. You had hoped to leave your traumas and problems in Monaco when you left at the ripe age of seventeen to pursue your dreams.

The estate was exactly the same as it was before, posh, proper, it screamed royalty just like the whole of Monaco. You opened the large antique black doors and walked into the place you once called home. You felt as if you were four again. Hugging your teddy bear to your chest, balling your eyes out after you heard the news about your parents private jet crashing. Your grandfather trying his level best to cheer you up, trying to make you laugh. Growing up he would try his level best to be your cheerleader you never had the heart to tell him that his jokes were terrible. He just wasn't the kind of person who would sacrifice everything for just a little girl who now seems to have the world in her hands. The house was empty, all the furniture covered with cream coloured sheets. Dust bunnies all over the place. Your grandfather would have hated to see the house like this. You ran your hands on the railing as you walked to your teenage bedroom. The room hitting you with a wave of nostalgia. The grand bed and the large balcony. You placed your suitcase in a corner. You went to the store room to take out fresh sheets, you'd be staying here for a while, so this needed to feel like home the way it did once. While taking out the sheets, you found the little black book that once was your whole entire life. You ran your hands through the pages of the album, laughing and giggling as you saw photos of you as a rebellious teenage girl, partying, going out with boys that was your whole life at a time but now modelling was your whole life. You wanted to say goodbye to this place in the most grand way possible. It was time to take an idea from that little black book and put it to use. You texted everyone you knew from your childhood.

Your sundress floated around in the warm air as you walked back from the little birthday shop across the street, bags in your hand filled with balloons, banners. You were super excited you had been waiting for a party to come around. Monaco had the best parties and this was going to be one of them.

The sky turned to dusk, and people started to enter the house. You greeted everyone with a smile on your face ready to get this party. The kitchen was filled with expensive booze. The music was loud everyone was in the centre of the living room, giggling and dancing. Couples in the corner making out, people throwing up in the bathroom. It was a typical high school rager just how you liked it. You joined people in the garage, playing beer pong with your high school friends, when you saw a familiar face walk in. It was your older brother's childhood best friend, Charles. Only he wasn't alone, next to him was a curly haired guy, with a small moustache. You waved to Charles as you gestured him to come over.

"Hey Y/N, how are you? I haven't seen you since forever, I heard about your grandfather how have you been doing".

You shot him a smile and engulfed him in a hug, "I am doing fine now, I see racing's been going well".

He let out a chuckle, "It's going".

"Who's your friend". You gestured to the handsome man standing next to Charles.

Charles wrapped an arm around the young man "Oh, yeah this is Lando"

You immediately put your hand forward to shake his hand. His warm hand enveloped your perfectly. It was a perfect fit.

"Hello, I am Lando, nice place you got here"

You told him your name and gave him a smile. When your phone started to ring, it was the young couple who was going to buy your grandfather's estate.

"I am sorry, I have to take this, have fun" You spoke and left the garage

What you didn't expect was the call to leave you in tears. Here you were sitting in your bathroom, crying and clutching your phone tightly in your hands. You quickly wiped your tears as you saw the same man come inside your bathroom, a red solo cup in hand.

"Oh, it's you again, I am sorry I thought no one was here". He spoke nervously looking at his shoes.

You chuckled "It is my home after all"

"Do you mind if I sit here"

"Yeah of course". He grabbed your vanity chair and sat on it. "So why are you crying".

"You saw that, you didn't hear anything right". You spoke suddenly becoming conscious of yourself.

He started to fidget with his fingers "No but do you want to talk about it". You raised your eyebrow at him.

He raised his hands in defence "Geez, you don't have to tell me if you don't want to".

"It's fine, it's just I used to live here with my grandfather after my parents died, now my grandfather's dead and I have come here all the way from New York to sell this house and the buyers who were originally going to buy this house backed out of the deal so now I am left with no buyers and no one who can continue to maintain this house".

His lips fell into a thin straight line, "There are so many people who would love to live here why don't you sell it to one of them".

You let out a sarcastic chuckle, "You don't get it this house is old, it's been here at the same spot in the same state, it's in top notch condition but every single person who wants to buy this house wants to rebuild it from scratch and my grandfather wouldn't like that, heck, he didn't even like me moving to New York".

You saw his face light up as he gave you the biggest smile you had ever experienced, "How about I buy it".

You burst into laughter at his proposition, you pointed a finger at him, "You want to buy this house"

He gave you a perplexed look, "Yeah it's a beautiful house". He pulled out his phone and started to type something, he shoved his phone in your face.

"Lando, Lando Norris" You spoke reading the long Wikipedia page he opened on himself. "So your an f1 driver like Cha, and you want to buy this house".

"Yes" He gave you a wink

"Fine, I'll sell you my house but you have to promise you won't try to rebuild it from scratch like those other dumbasses".

He nodded and linked your pinky finger together, "Promise, for how long are you here though"

"I was gonna be here for a month but now that I have a new buyer I might stay here for an extra month, stay in this house for a little more time before you move in here".

He looked at his phone and his eyes widened, "It's late very late, I'll come tomorrow to see the house then".

"Yeah, pleasure doing business with you" You shook his hand, "I should probably shoo these people away

𐙚

You woke up next morning in the comfort of your bed, stretching your arms you removed your silk sleeping mask and kept it on your nightstand. You walked towards your marble bathroom to get ready for the day. Putting on a cute little white dress, you got out of your bedroom heading downstairs to make some breakfast. This place was starting to feel like home again, but you knew you had to get back to New York, get back to your busy life, to the fashion weeks and flashing lights. Your phone lit up, it was a text message from an unknown number.

It's me Lando, I got your phone number from Charles, I am coming to see the house today, if that's okay with you?

You totally forgot about that, you were drunk out of your mind, you didn't think he was serious but it was worth a shot. He was pretty serious about buying your house. A knock made you come back to earth. You opened the door and were greeted by Lando, "Can I come in"

You opened the door widely, "Welcome to my humble abode".

His smile soon faded and his nose scrunched up, trying to pick up on the burning smell in the kitchen, "What's that smell?".

Oh shit. Your food was burning, you ran into the kitchen and immediately switched the stove off, you threw the burnt toast in the dustbin.

"Sorry, that was my breakfast".

"How about this, I see the house and you and I can go out and get food to finalise the deal".

You looked down at the floor shyly and nodded, "I'd love that".

𐙚

"And this is my bedroom, it's very girly I know but it'd make a perfect guest room, the view is amazing, the coastline, the warm air, the smell of the sea wafting in the air, what more could you ask for". You tried your best to makeup for the kitchen fiasco, worried that your carelessness might cause you the very great deal you had made.

Your blood ran cold when he chuckled, "Did you really think I would cancel our deal over that".

"Yeah"

He walked towards you, "I am serious about buying this house, it's beautiful just like it's owner".

"Is this your way of flirting with me".

He came closer to you, "Maybe".

You patted his chest, swatting him away playfully, "Nice try, we just met".

"Then get to know me".

You gave him a light smirk, "Maybe, after we finish the tour".

"This is the backyard, there's a huge pool over there, for sunbathing and pool parties, we have a small patch over there to grow vegetables and fruits, though it needs some water, ahh here's my favourite part of the backyard the gazebo, the backyard should be enough to knock your socks off along with the view of course". You spoke enthusiastically.

He clapped his hands together, "Your right this is a great investment, I am ready to buy this house right here right now".

You laughed loudly. Your laugh was like music to his ears, "Woah, easy there tiger there are some formalities first".

"Now that the tour is over how about that lunch".

You grabbed your bag from the table, "Fine, fine you got me".

𐙚

You and Lando, took a seat at a small café, surrounded by the serene beauty of Monaco. You could feel him staring at you, trying to hold his laugh, "Why are you dressed like that".

You fiddled with the flimsy menu held together in a small binder, "I thought you would understand, paparazzi, fans, I just don't want to get ambushed".

You admired this place, this little corner where you could come and eat, surrounded by flowers, greenery.

"Unlike you, I actually care about my fans, if anyone asks for a photo you give them what you want".

Taking off your designer sunglasses, you scoffed, "Clearly, your experience has been different". You ushered a waiter over to your table, "Umm, can I have the creamy pesto shrimp pasta and Lando what would you like to have".

The young Brit pointed his finger at some spot in the menu, "I'll have the cacio e pepe".

"So tell me more about yourself, your hobbies, ex-girlfriends". You wiggled your eyebrows amusingly

"Well with formula one I haven't found many hobbies, but I love streaming, I have a twitch account you should check it out, secondly, I have a couple ex-girlfriends".

"Aren't you a casanova".

"I am hardly a casanova, I am just too charming but enough about me and more about you, I want to know about your glamorous life in New York". He spoke taking a sip of his drink

You played around with the small paper straw in your pink lemonade, toying with the huge ice cubes, "It's not as thrilling as racing, but I get to wear pretty clothes, own many bags, get to travel for work a lot and the perks are just an addition but it isn't my favourite thing in the world".

His attention was now all on you his pasta untouched, and his eyes focused on you, "And what is this favourite thing of yours".

"It's quite funny, I don't know that myself".

You noticed how his face shifted, his lips curled into a frown. A guy like him only deserved to smile and looked his best when he was happy, "Then that's what we're going to find out till your here in Monaco".

"Aren't you busy with races". You questioned

He poked his cheek with his tongue giving you a tight lipped smile, "Oh, you can come to them too, cheer me on you know"

"That sounds fun".

"Trust me it is, so what do you want to do first".

You took a bite of your pasta, eyes widening slowly, "What, you mean you want to find my favourite thing now".

He gave his credit card to the young waitress, asking her to get him the cheque, "Yes now".

Here you were walking with 'The Lando Norris'. Holding gelato in your hand staring at the sun setting down."In all my years of living here I never appreciated the coastline until now".

You watched him take a huge bite of the pistachio ice cream in his hand, you knew he was regretting that bite by the look on his face, "Shit, this shit's cold".

"Were you even listening to me". You crossed your arms together forging a playful pout in order to guilt trip him.

"Something about the coastline".

"I guess you were listening".

You couldn't believe the man sitting next to you, eating his gelato and making jokes like a little child, the sun casting a warm glow on his face, enhancing his features you swore you had never seen a man as perfect as him before, "Come on, I'll take you home".

Riding in his Mclaren, your head out the window, your hair flowing in the air, you had never felt this alive before and it was all because of some guy who wanted to buy your house as a favour to you.

Now here he was standing in front of you, dropping you back home after an eventful day with that same droopy smile. There was tension but you couldn't act on it so you just smiled awkwardly, "I had fun today, same time tomorrow?"

"Heck yeah, I won't let you leave till we find that favourite thing of yours".

𐙚

#lando norris #lando norris f1 #lando norris imagine #lando norris x reader #lando norris fanfic #lando norris fluff #lando norris smut #formula 1 #f1 #ln4 #f1 x oc

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kangaracha · 1 month

Text

QUEENMAKER | CHAPTER 13

---

pairing chan x reader

genre ninth member au, angst, fluff, coming of age, social media, cancel culture, anxiety, depression, forbidden love,

summary To JYPE, the solution is simple; take the sole trainee that will not debut with your brand new girl group, and use her to replace the missing vocalist in your male group that insisted on starting as nine.

Unfortunately, to the fans and the members themselves, it isn't that simple.

status ongoing

taglist OPEN

previous | masterlist | next

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The way that Chan slumps straight down onto your sofa suggests that it has either been a long day or he is expecting a long night ahead. You're almost too scared to ask which is true; not that there's a way for you to wheedle out of blame for either being difficult. It's all related to you joining the group, and whatever was going on with your schedule.

In the end, Chan doesn't give you a chance to ask, his eyes roving around the apartment. "Your dorm is nice," he comments, in the sort of voice that would insinuate his isn't nice if you hadn't already seen it.

You glance around too, at the white walls and years-old pieces of furniture that clutter the space. They've all seen many singers come and go before you, and then were never built for that kind of handing down - but they're robust, if not entirely pretty. Dependable as a place to keep a home. "It's alright," you say, sinking into the seat beside him. "It's small. There's no way all eight of you would fit."

"It's loud enough in our dorm," Chan agrees, cutting a grin. "You should have seen when there was nine of us living on top of each other in one dorm."

Nine of us. Not you, of course, but the long-gone boy you were supposed to replace. You're not sure how the echo of the words over inside your head makes you feel. Somewhere in the back of your mind, you're distinctly aware that you've never heard him say that before (not even since you joined; always, it was the eight of them and one of you).

"Nightmareish," you say dryly, but the response is lacklustre, the joke weak and watery. Chan's smile fades.

"I guess I should stop stalling," he says, mistaking your tone for a different kind of distraction.

For two weeks, a heavy, curling tension has been holding itself steady in your gut; at the reminder of it now, it clenches its fist tight, your ribcage retracting and your breath shallow. You're going to debut, Minseo had said, and you'd thought it and thought it and thought it; but surely, it was unbelievable-

"I want you to perform at K-Con," Chan says, before the thought can finish flashing through your mind, and you freeze. "Not the whole concert, just God's Menu, or whatever you're confident in. Anything you want."

"Isn't K-Con in three weeks?" you question, and try to ignore the pounding of your heart in your chest. "You want me to debut in three weeks?"

A light dances in his eyes, that funny, coy smile he wears when he wants to mess with someone playing on his lips. "Technically, it doesn't count as a debut until the album comes out."

You’re seized by the sudden urge to push him off the couch - not that your hands move. You're still stuck in place, fingers twisted together in your lap; and even if you weren't, it's one thing to make playful threats in a text under his encouragement. It's another to enact them in real life, when he wants to sit across from you and offer you all of your dreams-

"Why?" you blurt out, and then realise belatedly that that might be just as rude as the actions you were trying to avoid.

Not that he cares, that smile slowly fading into something that isn't anger or humour. Even if you'd asked in Korean, you're pretty sure he wouldn't have minded. He was always telling you there was no hierarchy within this group, no reason to treat him with any respect.

"Because I want to," he insists. "The company agreed that you're ready - and you are ready. You've worked really hard."

You can't stop staring at him; that smile that's plastered across his face, the order of the words that come out of his mouth. You can't put your finger on why it gives you a bad feeling, and yet...something is off. You're sure of it. There's something he's not saying.

But what would he be keeping from you? Your mind wanders back through the things you know about him, the conversation you've had. Is this about the agreement you made, that you would stop working so hard once debut came? But he had just offered you a loophole out of that...and you've never known him to be that kind of sly anyway. Unless you don't know him as well as you think you do - which you suppose would be disappointing but not unexpected-

"What's wrong?" he asks, that pleased smile slipping from his face, and you can see it there under the crack; the secret, and the worry that holds itself stiff in his shoulders as he wonders if you've figured it out.

You have to take a deep breath first, and then another. The air won't quite reach the bottom of your lungs.

"It just doesn't make sense," you say, as kindly as you can. Your fingers twist at each other, tight enough to hurt.

"Doesn't it?" Chan asks. "You're ready for this, I promise."

"No," you say, certainty growing with every moment. "There's something you're not telling me."

Chan looks desperate. "There's nothing else to it."

He's a bad liar. You shake your head. "I'm just going to worry about it if you don't tell me."

"It's not something you should worry about," he insists. "I've got it under control."

"But there is something."

"No."

"You just admitted there's something."

He stops, thinking back through what he's said. Blanches. "Chan," you say, leaning forward, your elbows braced on your knees. You're surprised by the surprise on his face at the way you say his name - strong and unquestioning, free of honourifics and any kind of doubt. "Don't keep secrets from me. Please."

It's the weak little please at the end that makes him waver, the cracks of your resolve on the second syllable as the doubt over how far you can reasonably push him sinks its teeth in. He's still not angry though; if anything, he's scared, apprehension holding his tongue and reeling him, straight-backed, into the couch.

"It's better if you don't know," he says like he's delivering an apology. "I don't keep secrets. I just don't tell you things that are only going to hurt you. It's the same for all the boys - I don't see a reason in upsetting any of you when I've already resolved it."

You digest this slowly, your frustration melting word by word. "You're a really good leader," are the first words that blurt out of your mouth, a compliment that has him shaking his head and avoiding your gaze before the words are even out of your mouth. "And I appreciate it. Really."

There's a pause where you swallow the words that were about to come out of your mouth, too afraid to voice criticism, to risk the tenuous position you've built for yourself here.

"But?" Chan prompts as soon as the silence gets too loud.

Breathe.

"But," you say, intentionally slowing yourself down to one word at a time, "I've been around long enough to know when something's up, and I've looked after myself long enough to be able to handle it. If it's about debut and my career, I want to know what it is. Hurtful or not."

Chan's mouth twists unhappily. "I understand," he answers - and though he looks unhappy, you don't disbelieve him. "But also, you're not alone anymore. You're one of my people now, and it's my job to look after my people."

"I know that." Your hands are trembling, you realise suddenly, your head buzzing from the thrum of your heart beating in your ears. "And I know you like taking care of people and making sure the others never have to worry and all of that, but...that doesn't work for me. If I think something happened and I don't know what it is, I'm only going to sit here and think about it."

Inexplicably, a small smile twists at Chan's mouth, his eyes softening. "That's not going to help any more than me telling you is," he says lightly.

"Yeah," you sigh, leaning back. "I know."

For a moment, silence falls, the tension in the air unwinding itself into something a little more comfortable as you work your way through all the things you think you should say. Chan waits patiently; understanding, maybe, that you need a moment to think, that what you're trying to say might not come out the right way the first time you say it. That would be nice. It already feels like you're risking everything to have this conversation.

"Don't baby me," you say eventually, and then cringe at how blunt the statement sounds coming out of your mouth. "I'm old enough, I can handle whatever it is. I've taken care of myself all this time."

"You're not alone anymore though," Chan repeats, stronger this time.

"I still want to know what's happening though," you insist. "Where I stand with you, or the company, or - whatever it is. Even in a group, it's my career. I deserve to know."

"Okay," Chan says, and then again, "Okay." He stops for a moment, eyeing you appraisingly, and then says, "It's important to me that you listen to what I'm saying though. You're not alone anymore. We're a family, and we work so well because we're all committed to each other. If you want to be a part of this, you have to be as well. Do you understand?"

Your chin dips towards your chest - first in a nod, and then to stare at your hands rather than the unyielding intensity of his gaze, waiting for your answer. Waiting to see if he should be worried about you and whatever commitment he's made to you without you knowing. "I'm trying," you say, and you try your best to colour your voice in that raw honesty that burns at your chest. "I really am - I just don't want to pretend to be one of you if you're not all ready to accept me. I don't want to just come in and say I'm part of Stray Kids, I'm the same as the rest of you who have been here from the start-"

"You are one of us," he says over the top of you, cutting you off short. "We've all accepted you. If you want, in the morning, we can go and ask every single member and they'll tell you the same thing, but I need...I need you to let go of that. Forget Midnight and all the other groups that you nearly joined and being by yourself, and be part of Stray Kids. That's the person I want to show to Stay next month. That's the person I need in this group."

You swallow hard, blinking back tears. It feels big, this moment - bigger than the climax of any reality show, or the flight and fall of your time in Midnight, or the countless monthly evaluations that have passed you by in your time here. Bigger than auditions and leaving your home behind, the hardest moment you'd once thought you'd live through, when you were younger and less wary of the world. And for it to be Chan that sits there and asks this of you, his heart on his sleeve and his nature so honest and well intentioned, so hard to let down-

"I can do that," you say, around a tongue that feels thicker and heavier than it was before, a mouth stuffed full of cotton. You look up, meeting his eyes, and you're surprised to find a smile there, slowly lifting his face and crinkling at the corners of his eyes. Pleased. Relieved.

"Okay," he says, a breath blowing out with the word. "Good. Because I really want to keep you."

"Good," you echo. "Because I really want to stay."

He laughs; a small, soft thing that unwinds the tension in your chest. You pull in another breath, push back the tears again; preparing for what you need to say next.

"I meant what I said earlier though," you add, your shoulders squaring and your jaw clenched tight. "This is important to you, and it's important to me that I know exactly what's going on."

You hate watching that smile struggle and fade again, gone as quickly as you had earned it. "You're not going to like it," he warns, but he doesn't try to fend you off again.

"That's okay," you sigh. "Nothing unusual."

His mouth twists against words that he decides not to say. "The company offered last week to let us continue as eight members," he admits, one of his hands reaching up to pick mindlessly at the pillow of your couch. "They were pretty insistent about it, actually. I told them we wanted to be nine."

Your gaze turns sharp, your head swivelling to stare at him. "Why?" you ask, your voice gasping - because you can't fathom, after the back-and-forth of the last three months and the drama of delaying your debut when they'd been so hell-bent on revealing you in time for the last album, why they would turn around and try to take you out just as quickly.

"Because God's Menu did so well." Chan shrugs. "We weren't doing very well as a group before that; the last two albums were rough, and losing a member...I guess they thought without him we weren't ever going to be able to do as well as we did at debut, and then we went and proved to them that we are profitable as eight members. And they thought they could just use you as a backup plan."

"And you-"

"I told them they already spent the last three months fucking around to make us a nine member group, so we're going ahead as nine." You're surprised at the way his voice turns sharp, the hardening of his eyes and the dig of his fingers into the cushion. "They asked me if you were ready to debut, and I told them you could debut at our next concert if they wanted - which I probably shouldn't have said, because they decided that was a great idea, but-"

It's him that's rambling now, you that cuts across him with a, "Chan." He stops short, looking up at you with eyes that remind you of how you'd felt just moments ago - unsure, wary of how you're going to react. Sure that you're going to be angry for some reason, even though what he's done is...

"Thank you," you say, your voice dropping away to almost nothing - tears well in the corners of your eyes, unbidden, dripping down your cheeks even though your throat aches with the effort of trying to swallow them back down. "No one's ever done anything like that for me before."

"Hey, don't cry," he says, alarmed. His weight shifts across the couch, his arms reaching out - before you can wave him away, they envelop you in a hug, pulling you into his chest. It's been a long time since you hugged anyone; you're surprised at just how much you didn't know that you missed this kind of comfort, the tightening of someone else's arms around you and the warmth of another body close.

"You better get used to it," he says over the tuck of your head into his shoulder, your tears drying on his hoodie. "You're stuck with me now."

"You didn't even ask me first," you say, and listen to the way he laughs. "I'm going to do a good job at K-Con. I promise."

"We'll talk about it tomorrow," he says, before you can continue on. "We're going to have to plan how to show those idiots that they were wrong."

"It's my special talent," you joke weakly. "They haven't got rid of me yet."

You can hear the satisfied smile on his face, the amused huff of breath that ghosts over the top of your head. "And they never will," he says, and it sounds like a promise. A prophecy.

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