#// Going to try to be productive somewhere today though

[pucksandpower]

Piece of Cake

Lando Norris x McLaren reserve driver!Reader x platonic!Oscar Piastri

Summary: McLaren hands their drivers a blindfold, a pair of headphones, and a roll of duct tape to bake burn a cake … it goes about as well as can be expected

Based on this request

You stroll into the McLaren motorhome, gym bag slung over your shoulder, earbuds in as you listen to your pre-race pump-up playlist. Being the team’s reserve driver is a dream come true — you get to be around the cutting-edge of Formula 1 and some of the brightest minds in motorsport.

And if chance should have it, you could even sub in for one of the race drivers. The thrill of potential sends a tingle down your spine.

As you round the corner, you nearly walk straight into Lando, who’s got his jaw set in that brooding, focused way he gets right before a race weekend. His eyes light up when he sees you.

“Y/N! There you are,” he says, a dazzling smile emerging. “We’ve been looking everywhere for you.”

You pull out your earbuds. “What’s up? Everything okay for the race?”

He runs a hand through his perfectly tousled hair. “Race? Oh, pfft, who cares about that? We’ve got bigger problems to solve today.”

You raise an eyebrow. Lando has a flair for the dramatic.

He goes on, “We’ve been roped into doing this absolutely mental social media challenge video. Something about … baking? I dunno, to be honest, I stopped listening after they said one of us had to do it blindfolded.”

“Blindfolded?” You repeat, already regretting asking.

That’s when Oscar pops his head out from the kitchen area, hastily re-taping his mouth shut with bright orange duct tape. He flashes you a goofy thumbs up.

“So get this,” Lando continues, not missing a beat, “You’re the blindfolded one. I have to wear noise-canceling headphones so I can’t hear anything. And poor Oscar ...” He gestures over his shoulder at the other driver, who gives an exaggerated shrug. “Can’t speak a word, obviously.”

You look between the two of them, dumbfounded. “And we’re meant to … bake? Like, an actual cake or something?”

“Yep!” Lando says brightly. Too brightly. He claps you on the shoulder. “Should be a right laugh, eh? Let’s get started then!”

And just like that, the chaos begins.

After some shuffling about and giggling fits from the boys, you find yourself standing at the kitchen counter, a thick blindfold secured over your eyes.

You strain your other senses, trying to get your bearings. The hum of the overhead lights, the chemical tang of cleaning products, and was that … vanilla? You give an experimental sniff. Definitely vanilla.

A presence appears at your side and you nearly jump out of your skin when a hand grasps your wrist, guiding your fingers to what feels like … a whisk? Lando leans in close, his cologne surrounding you.

“Okay, I can’t hear myself think in these bloody headphones, but I’m going to talk you through the recipe step-by-step,” he murmurs, warm breath tickling your ear. You shiver involuntarily. “Just, y’know … do whatever feels right, I guess?”

With that enormously unhelpful advice, he releases your wrist and you feel him retreat. You’re flying blind — quite literally.

Then there’s a tap on your other arm. You turn, whisk at the ready, as Oscar’s unmistakable muffled laughter reaches your ears. Of course he’s going to be no help, sealed lips and all.

“Alright guys, very funny,” you say, aiming a withering look somewhere in their general direction though you can’t actually see them. “If I’m meant to be baking something edible out of this mess, you’re going to need to give me a bit more guidance.”

At that, Lando ambles back over, grasping your elbow to steer you somewhere — hopefully towards an actual baking ingredient and not, like, the rubbish bin. A few stumbling, giggle-filled steps later and you’re deposited in front of what sounds like … mixing bowls? Containers? You tentatively reach out a hand.

Your fingers brush over cool ceramic and you let out a relieved breath. Okay, progress. You dip the whisk in exploratorily and feel … something powdery. Flour? You raise it to your face to sniff, but Lando stops you just in time.

“Oi, oi, don’t go getting a lungful of whatever that is!” He laughs, somehow sounding even more handsome when he’s cheerfully chiding you. You bite your lip to stifle a grin.

Things begin to take shape after that, with Lando’s surprisingly not-too-horrible instruction and Oscar’s spirited gesticulating. You quickly work out the basics — butter, sugar, flour, eggs. The wet and dry ingredients get sloppily combined in separate bowls.

All fairly standard baking stuff.

Until, that is, Oscar tries miming out the need for baking soda and you obviously can’t see his dramatic gestures. You have no clue. He positions your hands with frantic motions as you measure out a hilarious amount of the mystery powder into your mixture.

Before long, a questionable batter has been produced. Oscar helps wrestle the cake pans away from you before you can completely muddle everything. The boys shuffle around for a bit, presumably prepping the pans and oven and such.

Then it’s time to pour in the batter. You feel Lando’s sturdy hands again, this time wrapping around yours to guide the bowl’s contents out. Immediately, the thick, lumpy globs start splattering over the sides and onto the counter. Oscar’s choked laughter fills the air. Lando curses under his breath, so close you can feel the rumble of his voice on your back.

Somehow, you all get the pans mostly filled without completely obliterating the kitchen. Oscar takes them to pop in the oven while Lando stays by your side. And that’s when you feel it — his free hand straying to rest on your hip. Reflexively, you lean back against his solid frame. The heat between your bodies builds deliciously.

For a long moment, it’s just the two of you standing there in peaceful suspension, chests rising and falling in tandem. Then Lando leans his head down, lips brushing the shell of your ear.

“You’ve got a bit of … uh, whatever that yellow stuff was in the bowl … just there,” he murmurs, voice low and impossibly alluring.

You inhale shakily. “Yeah? Why don’t you get it for me then?”

There’s the barest hesitation before his lips are on your neck, tongue darting out to lick away the wayward batter. You sag back against him, surrendering to the electrifying sensation. A tiny moan escapes your lips.

God, you want this man.

Just then, the smoke alarm goes off with an ear-splitting shriek, shattering the spell. Lando leaps back like he’s been burned.

“Bollocks! I mean, uh … can’t hear anything, totally oblivious over here!” He makes a show of adjusting his headphones primly.

You snatch off the blindfold finally, blinking against the sudden light. Sure enough, thick grey smoke is billowing out of the oven. Oscar is doubled over wheezing, tears of laughter streaming down his face as he yanks the ruined cake out with oven-mitted hands. The charred remains plop lifelessly onto the counter.

Waving the smoke away, you gape at the pitiful offering. “Well, so much for our baking skills.”

Lando peeks over, coughing exaggeratedly. “What’s that? Did someone say they wanted a follow-along tutorial on how to burn down the motorhome?”

You roll your eyes, trying for a scandalized look but can’t quite fight the grin tugging at your lips. Oscar just loses it again at his teammate’s antics, wiping at his streaming eyes as Lando joins in, shoulders shaking with mirth.

Watching them, deliriously happy despite — or maybe because of — the ridiculous disaster around you, affection blooms in your chest as warm and gooey as the cake should’ve been. The fearless racers, top drivers of a top team, international celebrities … and also just two lovable goofballs who make your heart flip in the silliest of ways.

Their laughter is infectious. You find yourself dissolving into giggles right along with them. At last, Lando slings an arm around your shoulders, pulling you into a loose side hug. His eyes crinkle at the corners as he grins down at you.

“Well, I don’t know about you two, but I could go for some proper dessert after that mess,” he says lightly. “My treat?”

Oscar immediately perks up, giving an enthusiastic double thumbs up and nodding vigorously.

You lean into Lando’s warmth, basking in the comfortable closeness. “You read my mind. Let’s get out of here before we burn something else down.”

With one last look at the charcoal brick that was once a cake, Oscar shakes his head ruefully. He strolls over and throws his arms around the two of you, squeezing tightly. For a moment, the three of you just stand there in a tangle of limbs and easy camaraderie, bodies shaking with residual laughter.

Pulling back at last, Oscar flashes you both a mischievous look as he points to his taped mouth, then mimes ripping it off. His silent way of asking if he can finally remove the duct tape obstacle.

“Oh, go on then, you’ve suffered enough,” Lando chuckles, waving a permissive hand.

Quick as a flash, Oscar yanks off the tape with a dramatic flourish, letting out a loud “FREEDOM!” He immediately grimaces, rubbing his jaw. “Oof, that stung a bit.”

“You’ll live, drama queen,” you tease, giving his arm a light shove.

He bumps you back with his hip, grinning impishly. “Well, it was all worth it to witness the two of you in absolute shambles from start to finish.”

Shouldering past you both, Oscar heads for the exit, shooting a roguish wink over his shoulder. “Now are we going to get some edible cake or what? I don’t know about you two, but I worked up an appetite with all the not talking I just did.”

Laughing again, you and Lando trail after him into the sunny paddock, bickering half-heartedly about who torched the baking attempt more thoroughly. A warm breeze riffles through the trees, carrying the scent of race fuel and possibility.

Another typical, wonderfully chaotic day at McLaren. You certainly wouldn’t have it any other way.

[moonstruckme]

Hey so i have a request and you can totally say no if this makes you uncomfortable but would you consider writing a poly marauders x reader where the readers depressed and can’t get anything done im asking cause I’ve been. Going through something and i thought id be okay by now but I’ve kinda regressed idk and now im depressed idk pls don’t write this if its to hard or upsetting

Thank you for your request lovely, I really hope things are getting easier for you or that they do soon <3

cw: depression

poly!marauders x fem!reader ♡ 984 words

You realize the boys must be home when Remus crouches in front of you. You hadn’t heard the car come up the driveway, nor the door opening. You were too deep inside your own head. Or maybe you’d drifted off into another of your light, unsatisfying sleeps. 

“Hi.” He offers you a little smile, putting out his hand. You worm yours out from under your blanket to give it to him, and he rubs his thumb across your knuckles fondly. “How was your day, lovely?” 

“Fine,” you say. Your voice rasps a bit from disuse. 

“I’m opening the curtains,” James warns from somewhere behind you. “Here, take these.” 

Sirius’ grunt sounds surprised. “Since when is carrying in the groceries a relay sport?” he complains. 

True to James’ word, light floods the living room a moment later. It illuminates Remus’ face in front of you, letting you see the gentle concern in his eyes. His gaze moves up above your head just before strong hands grasp you by the shoulders. 

“I missed you,” says James, hugging downwards at you until he gives up and lets his body flop over the back of the couch, “so much, today.” 

You pet down the hair at his nape, love like a bubble in your chest that’s always on the brink of popping. You love the way James hugs; it’s like he really is trying to feel as close to you as he can be, with his face bent towards your neck and one hand splayed behind your heart. You let yourself meld to him. Remus starts collecting your little mess from the coffee table, taking things into the kitchen.

“It was only a few hours,” you say. 

James makes a jokey harrumphing sound. “A few hours too many.” He lets you go to plant a smacking kiss on your cheek. “If you could have one thing for dinner tonight, what would it be?” 

“I thought we agreed to stop playing that game,” says Sirius, coming back in to sit down on the armrest of the couch. He sees where you’re toying with James’ hair and takes a lock between his own fingers. “You need a haircut, Jamie.” 

“You’re one to talk,” James quips, though he leans into the touch, always more than happy to have his hair played with. “And we only agreed to stop playing with you, because your expectations were too high.” 

“They were not.” 

“Why would you think we’d be able to get what we needed for escargot at our corner shop?” 

“If you didn’t want to know what I actually wanted, you shouldn’t have asked.” 

“Anyway,” James turns back to you, “what would you have, lovie?” 

“And before you say,” says Sirius, “the correct answer is tomato basil soup with a cheese toastie.”

James sulks, thwarted, and you stroke your thumb over his nape consolingly. “That sounds really lovely,” you say earnestly. “Was I really supposed to guess that on my own, though?” 

“You might’ve,” he mumbles. “Anyway, I was thinking you could be my soup stirrer. If you’re up for the task.” 

It’s an odd feeling, affection and guilt intertwined so well you can’t fully tell which is which. You know James is making a point of asking you so that you might come to the kitchen, be among them for a bit instead of staying off in your own world, do a task that makes you feel productive even if it’s small. You appreciate that he does it, and you loathe yourself for making him feel the need to. You wish your boyfriends wouldn’t coddle you not because you don’t like it but because you like it too much. You don’t deserve it. 

“Hey.” Sirius’ voice draws you back out from inside your head again. It’s become such a frequent haunt you don’t always realize you’re going anymore. He’s studying you. “You okay?” 

You hum as Remus comes back in, sitting on the now clean coffee table. “Thanks for doing that,” you murmur. His eyebrows lift slightly when he realizes you’re talking to him. “Sorry I left a mess.” 

Remus tsks, reaching forward to brush a piece of hair from your forehead. “It wasn’t really a mess,” he says. “I don’t mind. Are you going to help us with dinner?” 

“Yeah.” It’s not so much a decision as a yielding, but James beams like you’ve made his day. It makes you want to cry. 

Sirius wraps an arm around your waist when you get up to go to the kitchen, squeezing the fat of your hip lovingly. “Think I’ll take up the duty of stirring the soup, too,” he says to you. “Seems like a two-person job.” 

“Probably, yeah.” You let yourself lean into his side. He takes your weight happily, mushing a kiss into your hair. “Sorry I’m so lame lately,” you tell him quietly. “You guys don’t need to coddle me so much.” 

“You’re not lame, who said that?” Sirius jostles you a little bit. When you don’t laugh, he changes his approach, leaning his head against yours. “We’re not coddling you, sweetheart. You’re just in a rut right now, yeah? And we’re meeting you where you’re at.” 

He makes it sound so simple, but your throat clogs with the true difficulty of it all. When you reply your voice is thick. “I don’t know if I’ll be able to get out.” 

“You will,” he promises surely. “I don’t know how long it might take, but it’ll happen. And if whatever we’re doing isn’t working for you, we can figure something else out, okay? We’re with you.” 

When James says it’s your time to stir, Sirius insists on standing behind you and holding your hand that’s holding the spoon. Remus rolls his eyes at the idea of it being a two-person job, but you don’t know. You think maybe it takes all four of you to make it work.

[min-imum]

ceo mingyu and office siren reader?? 😍😍😍

nsfw, mdni

content warnings: afab!reader, size kink, reader is smaller than mingyu, office sex, semi-public??, fingering, oral sex (m & f receiving), tit fucking!!!!! omg, spit as lube because mingyu never imagined he’d be having sex in his office…, crying from pleasure!!!!, let me know if i missed anything, i realised i didn’t really emphasise the office siren part sorry :(, not proofread forgive me

anon this was honestly such an interesting ask to receive. i took so long to write this because i’ve been thinking about how i want this to go (on top of the crushing guilt i felt for skipping earlier asks but my writers’ block is, unfortunately, selective) but i’m ready now because i saw mingyu in office attire…... he’d make such a hot CEO, blazer always folded neatly over a chair, sleeves rolled up to reveal his forearms, just enough buttons left open to be sexy but not inappropriate, expensive watch wrapped around his right wrist.

mr kim is probably the best boss you’ve ever worked for, too — he’s kind but not too giving, he makes sure everyone does the work they’re supposed to do, he resolves problems amicably as much as possible, and he’s not an ass about taking time off work. he feeds the staff sometimes, ordering surprise catering or bubble tea for everyone. he delegates work fairly and doesn’t dump too much on an unlucky underpaid worker.

additionally, the pay he offers is really good, enough for you to splurge every now and then. it hadn’t been this way at any of your previous jobs, where you slaved away to make ends meet. now, even in your upgraded apartment (with it’s upgraded rent), you’re able to spend money to take care of yourself with new products and spa days and branded bags.

he’s unbelievably charming — strong eyebrows and a pretty smile that works wonders during meetings with clients, a superb memory that ensures he knows his staff’s likes and dislikes, and compassion and empathy that makes him a wonderful superior.

so, naturally, you fall for him.

just a little bit. maybe. he’s nice, and all, but you’re sure you can find someone better somewhere else. besides, that’s your CEO, the one and only kim mingyu. he wouldn’t choose you even if you chose him.

you keep your head down and do your best to be a good employee. you’ve never missed a deadline, and you work doubly as hard to cover your sick days (even if he tells you you really don’t have to, he’s got it covered, seriously), and you try to limit the cost you incur from the company’s unlimited coffee policy. you proofread all your reports three times just to be sure. you’re friendly with all your coworkers. you drink at company parties, just enough to fit in, never so much that you’re anywhere close to being drunk.

you stir your coffee slowly, yawning — you’d slept late last night, so today you allow yourself to have an extra cup or two of coffee. the creamer you added swirls into the coffee and fades.

“didn’t take you for a no sugar type of woman.”

you nearly jump, and turn around to see your boss standing next to you, teasing grin on his face. you hold your hand to your chest. “god, you scared me,” you huff. “sugar makes it too sweet and that makes me sleepy.”

“so you do like sugar, just not during work?” mingyu asks, eyebrow raised. you nod.

Do Not Look Down, you tell yourself. Absolutely Do Not Look Down.

ha. too late. you catch yourself staring at his chest straining against his shirt, biceps filling up his sleeves, and blush bright red immediately.

“s-sorry,” you stammer, picking up your coffee and making your escape. “i have a report to get to. nice chat!”

he snickers as you scuttle off, coffee clutched in your hands.

—

good bosses don’t pick favourites, especially not when all their employees work equally as hard and produce decent results.

mingyu, unfortunately, might not meet that criteria. (fortunately, though, it seems like he’s not the only one that likes you. he sees the eyes following you through the office, and he definitely also sees the guy that intentionally takes the long way around the office to the lift just to pass by your desk.)

you’re a wonderful employee that also happens to be absolutely gorgeous. you submit your work on time, you’re civil with all your fellow coworkers, you do your job well, your hair is always tied up neatly, your shirt is always tucked properly into your pencil skirt, your skirt makes your ass look good—

he runs a hand over his face, huffing at himself. you’re his employee who has shown him nothing but respect. he shouldn’t be thinking about you like this.

but god, he’d be lying to himself if he said he hasn’t thought about your pretty, glossy lips wrapped around his cock, or about tangling his fingers in your hair and tugging, or about playing with your tits until you’re sensitive and whiny.

“come in,” he calls, when he hears a knock on the door. his composure promptly flies out the window when it’s you that steps in. your skirt makes your legs look like they go on for miles, even though he knows you aren’t all that tall. he towers over you easily. his cock twitches at the thought and he immediately files the thought away for later, shaking his head to clear his mind.

“i just wanted to bring you these documents,” you say, handing him a stack of files. he nods dumbly as he observes the difference in size between his hand and yours. your lips, soft and inviting, curve around the words you’re saying. he might be a little distracted.

“—earth to boss man,” he hears you call. he jolts back, then chuckles sheepishly.

“sorry, i was distracted,” mingyu rubs his neck. “could you repeat that?”

“sure,” you agree easily. you tell him — again — about a new potential company partnership, then about a little feud that seems to be starting between two of your coworkers, and finally you offer to make him coffee.

“you look tired and out of it,” you observe. “maybe coffee will help. i can bring you some.”

he wants to laugh. he’s not tired, no, he’s just horny and his wet dream is standing in front of him.

“coffee sounds nice,” he says instead. “thank you.”

you step back out of his office to make him his coffee, and he slumps back in his chair, groaning. you’re perfect. he might be a good boss, but a large part of it is because he has you — you point out all the little, blossoming problems that may become major issues over time so he can stomp them out before they even start, and you’re more than competent at your job. it helps that you’re easy on the eyes, too, always presentable and pretty and looking like someone he wants to ruin.

—

when you return with your coffee, you expect to hand it over and return to your desk.

what you’re absolutely not expecting, however, is for your boss to ask you to stay.

you stay frozen in place as mingyu stands and rounds the table before finally stopping in front of you.

“i have to admit,” mingyu says, hands clasped behind his back. “you’re… quite captivating. you’re a hard worker, you’re a sociable person, and it’s been wonderful having you here.”

you nod, confused. he steps closer to you, and oh — now you can smell the scent of his cologne, musky and masculine, and now you have to tilt your head up to look at him.

“am i making you uncomfortable?” he asks.

you hesitate. the mature, correct answer would be yes, please step away from me, sir. but is that really the case? his scent permeates the air. his choice of cologne matches him well. subtle but memorable, powerful but not overbearing. you press your thighs together, swallowing.

“no,” you squeak.

“then, may i touch you?”

you nod, but his eyes narrow. “words, darling.”

you shiver. “yes. please.”

“good girl.” satisfied, he rests his hands on your waist, and one hand moves up to stroke your cheek gently. “you’re beautiful, you know? captured my attention since day one. my attention, and everyone else’s. i think half your coworkers might have a crush on you.”

you lean into his touch, eyes fixated on his, not really paying attention to anything he’s saying. you’re certain you’ve had a wet dream just like this before.

“can i kiss you?”

in lieu of an answer, you throw your arms around his neck and pull him in for a passionate kiss. you moan when he squeezes your waist, and he licks into your mouth. his tongue tangles with yours. it’s sloppy and disgusting and wet and you love it.

“mr kim,” you whine. he shushes you.

“just mingyu.”

“mingyu… please touch me.” you guide his hand to your chest, and he gropes your tit through your clothes, groaning.

“shit, it’s even better than i imagined,” he murmurs.

“do you wanna fuck them?”

his eyes go wide and he moans loudly. “fuck, yes.”

the two of you make quick work of your shirt — he nearly sends the buttons of your shirt flying with how frantic he was, and he snaps the clasp of your bra with a flick of his fingers. you tug your shirt out of where it’s tucked into your skirt and pull it off, throwing it onto a nearby chair. your bra follows and he eyes your tits greedily. he unbuttons his own shirt, then his pants too, and pulls his hard cock out of his pants.

the size of his cock makes you salivate, excited to have a taste. and his body… his body is sculpted by the gods, all muscle and defined lines. the thin sheen of sweat makes him glow.

he places a cushion on the floor for you. you kneel on the cushion and press your tits together with your arms.

“fuck, baby, you’re perfect,” he moans. he spits onto his cock a few times and strokes it, then positions himself between your breasts. he clenches his abs desperately to hold his orgasm at bay.

slowly, he starts fucking between your tits, grunts leaving his lips with every thrust. he whimpers when you lean your head down to lick at the tip whenever it pokes up between your tits. you allow your own saliva to dribble onto his cock and your tits to ease the slide.

it doesn’t take long — this is probably the hottest situation he’s ever been in — and soon, he’s coming all over your face and breasts with a groan. “shit,” he curses. “you’re too sexy, baby.”

with a thumb, he swipes up all the cum on your face and feeds it to you, and you accept it with a dazed smirk. mingyu helps you stand again, and starts sucking hickeys onto your breasts, licking up his own release and leaving his marks behind. then, he presses his lips back onto yours, passing the cum in his mouth to you. it’s so hot and dirty that it makes you dizzy.

his hands slide down to your skirt. he grabs two fistfuls of your ass and moans into your mouth.

“mingyu,” you whine. he coos at you. with one swipe of his arm, he clears his table, folders clattering to the floor.

mingyu lifts you onto the table, then tugs at your skirt hurriedly. you try lifting your ass to help him take the skirt off, but he simply shoves your skirt up your thighs and drops to his knees. “fuck,” you moan. “are you gonna—”

he responds by pressing his nose against your core through your panties. his nose bridge bumps your clit, making you whimper, and the deep inhale he takes nearly makes you cum on the spot.

“smells so good, baby,” he praises. “bet you’ll taste even better.”

he peels your soaked panties off your cunt and slides them off your legs. “can i keep these, darling?”

you moan. “yes,” you reply. “anything you want.”

he slides your panties into his pocket, then presses his face directly into your pussy. there’s no preamble before he’s eating you out frantically, licking and sucking and nibbling, and you grab his hair to ground yourself, nearly screaming in pleasure. “yes, yes,” you chant, whining loudly. “fuck, i’m going to cum so fast.”

soon, you’re fucked dumb, his tongue putting you into a daze, and all you can do is babble mindlessly and cry.

with a shout, you cum onto his face, and he licks you through it, nose pressing insistently at your clit. you jerk in sensitivity for a minute before you finally push him off.

mingyu looks absolutely pussy-drunk, eyes glazed over with a dumb smile on his face. “so good,” he murmurs. “can you go again?”

“i would, but i really want your cock inside me now, mingyu.” you pant.

he springs into action. mingyu stands from where he’d been kneeling and shoves his pants down his legs. you watch, dazed, as he steps out of them and steps towards you.

then, he grabs you by the hips and flips you onto your front, making you squeal.

“mingyu?!”

“been wanting to bend you over my desk,” mingyu says gruffly. “fuck you from behind. can i, baby?”

you moan. “please, yes, give it to me—”

you hear him spit again, and then the head of his cock presses against your entrance. he’s so much bigger than you’d anticipated. you scramble to grab the edge of the table as he rocks into you slowly, a long, loud whine forced out of you. his spit may not have been enough lube, but there’s more than enough of your slick to ease the slide.

his cock bullies into you, stretching you out deliciously and almost painfully, and it never seems to end.

“what a pretty pussy,” he murmurs. “taking my cock so well.”

“a-ah, love your cock,” you babble. “‘s so good.”

“god, i’ve barely even started and you’re already fucked dumb.” he growls. “aren’t you just so perfect for me, doll?”

he hisses when your cunt clenches around his cock. “yes!” you cry. “all for you. all yours.”

his hips buck at your words, and the remaining couple of inches are shoved into your cunt, making you cry out in surprise. he rubs your back in apology, and as soon as you give him the go-ahead, he starts fucking you earnestly.

he gropes your tits and your ass and admires the view of you sprawled out across his work desk, naked save the skirt bunched around your waist, face plastered sideways onto the tabletop. he leans forward and fucks you harder, and you scramble desperately, trying to find something to hold onto, fingertips clawing at the table.

“ungh, mingyu,” you moan. “s-so good, so good—”

“yeah? tell me how much you like my cock, baby.”

“so big, so warm,” you cry. “harder, harder!”

he pistons into you and the pleasure overwhelms you. your cunt clenches around his cock as you try to hold back your orgasm.

“fuck, baby,” he swears. “so tight and warm around me. i’m not going to last long.”

you’re sobbing now. “g-gonna cum,” you whimper. “wanna cum.”

he slides a finger over your clit, and that’s all it takes for you to cum with a scream. he fucks you through your orgasm into oversensitivity, and you clench around him sporadically as you twitch, sparks of pleasure shooting up your spine.

“where d’you want it?” he asks, teeth clenched.

“inside, please give it to me inside,” you answer quickly.

with a growl, he starts to cum, shooting hot semen into your pussy. it makes you cum again, arching violently, and he fucks you through both of your orgasms.

finally, he slows, and pulls out gingerly. he flips you onto your back, then watches the cum start dripping out of your pussy with a dopey, satisfied grin.

you pant, chest heaving enticingly, as you recover from your two orgasms in record time. “well shit,” you mutter. “that was probably the best sex i’ve had in my life.”

“guess it needs to happen again, then,” mingyu says, wiggling his eyebrows suggestively. you laugh, slapping his arm, and he giggles too, fending off your attacks.

“but for real, though, i do really like you. and. i know we kind of fast-forwarded a little bit, but i’d like if we could try getting to know each other and maybe try dating…?” he asks, suddenly shy.

“i’ll agree to that,” you say, watching him perk up. “on one condition.”

his eyes are bright with puppy-like excitement. “what is it?”

you point down your body at the cum pooling on your pussy and dripping onto the table. “find a way to clean that up.”

with a smirk, he drops to his knees again.

“with pleasure.”

[xuchiya]

the beauty of us || jung wooyoung || one-shot

|genre: boyfriend! wooyoung. girlfriend! reader. just pure fluff and wooyoung being a real man out here |mentions: nothing really.

summary: As you test shades and colors, he offers himself—literally—as the canvas for your art. In the middle of the bustling mall, his playful curiosity and quiet devotion create a masterpiece of their own.

word count: 1.1k

As I descended the stairs of my apartment, the faint jingle of my car and apartment keys filled the otherwise quiet air. The cool morning breeze slipped through the slightly open window in the stairwell, carrying with it a sense of unhurried peace. I approached the shoe rack near the door, carefully slipping into my sandals, the soft scrape of their straps fitting into place.

Behind me, the sound of socked feet padding softly on the wooden floor made me pause.

“Oh? Are you going somewhere?” came a familiar voice, light and inquisitive.

I turned my head to find Wooyoung standing there, leaning casually against the wall with a curious tilt to his head. His dark hair was slightly tousled, as if he’d just woken up, and his eyes sparkled with interest.

“Yeah,” I replied with a small nod, holding up my keys. “I’m heading to the mall to pick up some make-up. I’ve run out of a few things.”

For a split second, his expression lit up, a glimmer of excitement crossing his face. Before I could say another word, he suddenly bounced on his toes, his energy spilling over.

“Oh~ I’ll pay!” he announced, his tone playful but sincere, his hand already reaching into his pocket for his wallet.

I blinked, caught off guard by his enthusiasm. “You don’t have to do that,” I said, though a smile tugged at my lips.

“But I want to!” he insisted, his grin widening. “Think of it as my way of making sure you get only the best.” He winked, and for a moment, I couldn’t tell if he was serious or just being his usual cheeky self.

“Well, if you’re coming, don’t complain about how long I’ll take,” I warned, narrowing my eyes at him playfully.

“Long?” he repeated, pretending to be offended. “With me around, shopping will be fun and efficient. You’ll see.”

I rolled my eyes, slipping my phone into my bag. “Fine, but don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

“Deal!” he chirped, already slipping on his sneakers.

As I watched him tie his laces with unbridled excitement, I couldn’t help but feel a warmth in my chest. Wooyoung always had a way of turning the simplest things into something memorable, and I had a feeling today would be no exception.

“You know, you can still back out right,” I told Wooyoung for the third time as we stepped into the mall. “It’s just make-up shopping. It could take ages.”

“I’ve got time,” he said with a grin, hands shoved into his pockets. “Besides, I want to see what this whole make-up business is about.”

I gave him a skeptical look, but he just winked at me, completely unbothered. It wasn’t long before we found ourselves in the brightly lit cosmetics section of a department store. A sales associate handed me a small shopping basket, and I immediately began scanning the shelves, looking for the essentials I needed.

Wooyoung, true to his word, wasn’t just there to follow silently behind me. Instead, he picked up random products, holding them up like they were foreign artifacts. “What’s this for?” he asked, squinting at a bottle of primer.

“It’s primer. It creates a smooth base for make-up.”

“And this?” He held up a brow gel.

“Keeps your eyebrows in place.”

His curiosity was endless, and honestly, it was kind of adorable. He’d inspect each product, occasionally putting it back or pretending to test it on himself just to make me laugh. But then, his questions turned into quiet observation.

As I moved down the aisles, I swatched foundation shades on the back of my hand, testing each one under the harsh store lights to see which matched my skin tone. Wooyoung watched intently, his head tilting slightly as if trying to figure out my process.

“You’re really thorough about this,” he remarked after a while.

“I have to be. My skin’s super sensitive,” I explained, showing him my hand now streaked with various shades of foundation. “If I pick the wrong one, I’ll break out, or worse, get a rash.”

He nodded thoughtfully but didn’t say much. Moments later, I noticed him picking up a palette of blushes and trying to mimic what I was doing—pressing a small amount on his wrist and holding it up to the light.

“What do you think of this one?” he asked, holding out his arm.

I stifled a laugh, impressed by his effort. “Not bad. You’re getting the hang of it.”

By the time we made it to the eyeshadow section, my arm was a rainbow of shades, from blushes to highlighters and eyeshadows. It was getting harder to find space to test new colors. Wooyoung noticed and, without a word, rolled up his sleeve and extended his arm toward me.

“Here, use mine,” he said casually, as if it was the most normal thing in the world.

I blinked at him, surprised by the gesture. “Are you sure?”

“Of course. Why not?”

He held his arm steady as I gently swiped on a few shades, blending them with my fingers to see how they’d look. His skin tone was slightly different from mine, but it worked well enough for testing. The onlookers around us couldn’t help but giggle and whisper. A couple of them even squealed quietly, clearly charmed by the scene.

Wooyoung, unfazed by the attention, just smiled at me. “Told you it will be fun and efficient,” he admitted, glancing at the colors now adorning his forearm.

“Yeah yeah whatever” I teased, dabbing a shimmering gold eyeshadow onto his wrist.

“But mostly, I like seeing how happy it makes you.” His tone was light, but the sincerity in his eyes made my cheeks warm, a soft smile was on my lips as I placed back the palette on the shelf. By the end of our trip, we both had arms covered in a patchwork of colors, but my basket was filled with carefully chosen products. As we headed to the checkout, I couldn’t help but glance at Wooyoung, who was grinning like he’d just discovered a new hobby.

“Thanks for tagging along,” I said softly. He shrugged, pulling out his wallet and handing over his card, “Thanks for letting me be your test subject. Anytime you need another arm, I’m your guy.”

The sales associate at the counter smiled knowingly as she handed me my bag. “You’re lucky to have him,” she said with a wink.

I couldn’t help but smile back. “Yeah, I am.”

As we walked out of the store, Wooyoung leaned in and said, “Next time, you’ll have to teach me how to actually use this stuff.”

“Deal,” I replied with a laugh, grabbing his hand, intertwining them as I lead us to the food court.

[synthetickitsune]

Full Stomach, Full Heart ✧ w.jh

Pairing: Wen Junhui x reader (gn) Genre: angst, hints of comfort Summary: What was the last thing you ate, actually? Yet better question would be when was the last time you ate a full, nutritious meal. You don’t think you can remember though. And you know Jun will hate to hear it. Word count: 2.2k Warnings: food struggles, mentions of reader not eating properly

You feel something’s wrong within the first hour after waking up. Deeply wrong, but you’re equally deep in denial, so you write it off as a side effect of getting up too early and immediately scrolling on your phone, so you go back to sleep. When you wake up again, you’re not really sure you slept at all. Somehow, though, the time has passed too quickly for you to just be spacing out in bed. You need to get up. 

The feeling is still there, a weight on your chest and your mind feels like it’s clouded by a thick fog. Your bones feel heavy. Just standing feels uncomfortable and draining. You get some water and crawl back into bed. A text from your boyfriend is waiting for you, wishing you a good morning and asking if you’ve eaten yet. Your stomach churns at the idea of eating, so you ignore the text in favor of more sleep. 

Only sleep just won’t come. Not for long anyway. It’s all brief flashes of unconsciousness that leave you disoriented and tired once you wake up. Switching between unsuccessful attempts of napping and mindless scrolling on your phone, with some spacing out on the side, time passes. You try to make yourself get up again and do something, try to guilt yourself into being productive, all without result. Nothing works, nothing feels right.

You can’t tell what’s wrong exactly, but somehow it feels like everything is. It makes you upset, most of all with yourself. There is nothing that needs to get done, however you can come up with a list of a hundred things that you could get done if only you dragged yourself out of bed. There’s no reason you should be like this, you tell yourself. It is what it is, you tell yourself next and close your eyes again.

Without your permission, time passes. It slips away from you, then forcefully reminds you of its existence when your phone starts to ring.

It’s Jun.

“Hey,” you whisper. You hope he heard over the commotion around him. Suddenly you realize you really hate people today. Staying in bed seems even more appealing. Nobody is going to bother you here.

“Are you alright?” Jun cuts straight to chase. His voice is kind but laced with worry. “You never responded to my text.”

Oh. Shit.

“Yeah, yeah, I guess I am,” you hesitate a little, “Just don’t feel too good.”

You can see the frown on his face when you close your eyes and focus on the brief pause. The background noise, the voices, get distant and quiet. Somewhere on the other end of the line, a door clicks shut.

“‘Not good’ as in…?” he asks and you sigh. Worrying your lip between your teeth, you regret being honest in the first place. Just a little. But then again if you haven’t told him, he’d drive himself crazy with worry and that’s the last thing he needs during practice.

“I just don’t feel much of anything,” you admit, “I’m just really tired. I don’t want to do anything, don’t wanna talk to anyone.”

He hums in sympathy. It makes something warm flicker in your chest. You can imagine the hug he’d give you if he was here - enveloping, like the world doesn’t exist, his hand cradling your head, the other on the small of your back pulling you close with just the perfect amount of force. He’d hold you until something made him let go, and then still kiss you and promise to be right back.

“I’m sorry I called,” he whispers, “I just got worried.”

“No, I don’t mind you,” you reassure him even as every word drains more energy out of your already exhausted body, “You don’t count.”

“Why thank you,” you hear the smile in his voice. It’s natural for you to smile as well without thinking, if only you had the energy too. Regret wells up in your chest, even though Jun won’t know about this little turmoil. “Have you eaten?”

Your heart pauses for a beat. The answer is clear, but what was the last thing you ate, actually? Probably just instant noodles or something like that. Better question would be when was the last time you ate a full, nutritious meal. You don’t think you can remember though. And you know Jun will hate to hear it.

“...no,” you admit quietly. You curl under the blanket. He might get disappointed and worried but he won’t yell at you, you know that, yet it still feels uncomfortable. The silence drags on and leaves you suspended in anxiety. You beg him to talk inside your head, to say anything - to snap at you, anything will do. Just not the silence.

“y/n, it’s so late…” he says and you know he’s not scolding you, that he’s as gentle as he can be, but it still sounds like you’re getting scolded.

“I know,” you murmur, “I’m not hungry though.”

It’s an understatement. The idea of eating itself makes your stomach churn. And maybe it’s hunger in disguise, maybe. Most likely. You know you should eat. Food feels repulsive, though.

“You need to eat,” he insists, quietly, still gentle. You can hear the change in his voice when he adds: “I’ve been busy a lot, huh?”

“Jun…” you shake your head, “It’s not your fault. I need to take care of myself.”

“I want to be there for you when you’re not feeling well,” there’s a moment where his voice gets higher. You can imagine the lightbulb appearing above his head and it makes you slightly concerned. “I’m gonna help.”

“Wait, no-”

“Shh, no arguing,” he shushes you. You can hear his voice get more distant. “I’ll order you some food. A lot of it. So you can choose.”

You whine.

“I don’t wanna see anyone. Please. I promise I’ll eat later, just not now,” you try to change his mind. It’s pointless, you’re well aware that Jun is the most stubborn when your wellbeing is concerned. The silence on the other end of the line, occasionally broken by tapping noises as your boyfriend’s fingers dance across the screen, tells you resistance is hopeless. Still you try.

“I don’t want to go anywhere to pick up the food. I won’t even go downstairs,” you warn him,

“I won’t pick up the phone if anyone calls. I won’t talk to anyone,” you sulk.

“Jun, please forget about it-”

“Will you cook?” he interrupts you, a slight edge to his voice. You shrivel under the blanket.

“No but-”

“Are there any leftovers you can heat up?”

“No, Jun-”

“Don’t ‘no Jun’ me,” he sighs, “I’m gonna figure this out, okay? Don’t worry.”

Before you can ask for an explanation, beg him to let it go, anything, he hangs up. You groan and pull at your hair. It’s pointless to argue with Jun, however, and although you’re frustrated you know you can trust him. So you return to numbly lying on bed.

It’s some time later that you’re woken up - from sleep or daydreaming, you have no idea - by a text. You frown and pick up the phone, already annoyed. Who dares to bother you now?

Joshua: hey i’m downstairs so don’t get creeped out when i come in with the food

Joshua: if you're awake

Joshua: if not - sorry! ><

…what?

You don’t have much time to process what’s happening before you hear the code being put in and the doors opening. You’re tempted to pretend you’re not home but also what the fuck is he doing here? Taking a quick look at Jun’s messy hoodie and sweats you’re wearing, you ultimately decide that it’s not your fault Joshua’s going to see you like this. He came in uninvited. So much for not talking to anyone. You get up and groggily walk out of the room and look for the intruder.

You find him in the kitchen… putting food containers on the table?

“Hey,” he greets you softly with a friendly smile without pausing his actions.

“What are you doing here?” you ask, confusion written all over your face. Your arms are wrapped around your body protectively. Joshua doesn’t even look at you as he meticulously takes everything out of the bag.

“That’s my line. You should be in bed” he chuckles. Finally he looks up and upon seeing you don’t get the situation at all, he shakes his head with a small laugh.

“Jun said you’re not feeling well,” he explains, “So he asked if anyone could bring you food while you rest. Are you okay to eat now or should I put it in the fridge?”

You stop yourself from screaming aloud. And sighing. And hitting your head against the wall.

“Thank you,” you say instead, “It really wasn’t necessary.”

“No problem,” Joshua smiles at you again, “So?”

“I’ll eat in a bit,” you decide, relaxing slightly. You don’t feel like eating if you’re being honest but you also think the nausea starting to kick in is caused by hunger at this point. You should make yourself eat. Somehow.

“Okay. Do you need anything else? Medicine, dessert?” he jokes and you roll your eyes at him even though the target should really be Junhui.  

“I’m fine, thank you,” you try to smile at him despite your irritated mood. You make a mental note to thank Joshua again and apologize later because he leaves as quickly as he came. You should also talk to your boyfriend about using his friends as couriers.

Speaking of which…

Your phone rings again the moment you sit down and angrily stab the utensil into the closest container. You really can’t be bothered to use dishes that you’d have to wash later.

You accept the call and put your boyfriend on speaker.

“Hi… Joshua texted me he dropped off the food?” Jun sounds timid, careful almost.

“Yeah, he did,” you play with the food without raising any to your lips, “I hope you paid him.”

“No, but I owe him one,” he chuckles, still tense, “You know how he is.”

You hum. You do. But that still doesn’t mean your boyfriend should take advantage of his friend’s kindness to bring you food when he’s too busy. It’s not like any of them ever have too much time on their hands to be doing this.

“I… I just thought it would be okay this way,” his voice softens, “That you could avoid social interaction but still get the food delivered. I told Shua to leave you alone.”

You hum again. Not that you mind talking to Jun, he’s always the only exception, but you’re tired. And hungry, yet the idea of picking up the food, chewing, swallowing just seems so exhausting.

“I’m sorry,” Jun’s voice drops into a whisper, “But you need to eat.”

“I know,” you murmur, “And thank you. It’s just I really don’t feel like it even though I’m so hungry right now.”

It’s quiet on the other side for a moment, and then you hear him talking away from the phone - asking Soonyoung for a short break. You can’t hear what the response is but the next thing you hear is the door closing and Jun’s fast steps.

“What happened?” you ask, smiling a little as you imagine your boyfriend speeding through the corridors.

“I’ll facetime you in a bit, yeah? We can eat together,” his voice is full of determination and confidence that you don’t share.

“You’re going to eat in the middle of practice?” your eyebrow raises on its own.

“...Yes.”

There’s another slight pause.

“I’ll be fine.”

“Sure,” you chuckle. You still haven’t found the will to take a bite. Sharing a meal with Jun sounds nice, though. It’s highly unlikely it’s actually going to help with the predicament you’re in but the idea really is nice.

“You don’t have to eat much, I won’t either,” he coaxes you softly. You hear more doors opening and closing. Then something that sounds like a fridge and him rummaging around. “Just eat something, yeah?”

“I’ll try,” you promise.

“I’ll turn on the camera now,” Jun warns while he, at least judging by the sound, puts the food in the microwave. 

You just admire his pretty face while he waits for the food to warm up and try to push down the nausea. It’s hunger, it must be. But it does nothing to help you feel like eating. Your boyfriend yaps on about his day so far, about the practice, whines a little about how hard the new choreo is. It’s soothing, comforting. Ultimately, though, it doesn’t help much.

New wave of guilt washes over you when he sits down with his food and looks at you hopefully. You need to eat. You really need to. If for no other reason, then at least so that he doesn’t worry and can fully focus on the practice.

Finally you force your hands to move, your lips to open and your jaws to chew the first bite. Jun’s bright smile feels much better than the food you swallow.

“There we go,” he whispers to himself, trying to bite back the smile as he digs into his own lunch. You hear it anyway.

You smile a little too as you fight against your head to share a meal with him.

[ruewrote]

𝑤ℎ𝑎𝑡 𝑤𝑒 𝑑𝑖𝑑𝑛𝑡 𝑠𝑎𝑦.

PAIRING: josh washington x actress!reader WARNINGS: no use of y/n GENRE: angst / fluff SONG INSPIRATION: i love you, im sorry by gracie abrams WORD COUNT: 9.7k REQUESTED: yes NOTE: does this make up for me being gone?

navigation | ask | josh washington masterlist

you had been waiting anxiously for a callback for the big film you’d auditioned for.

it was the kind of audition you left feeling half giddy, half sick to your stomach, replaying every line in your head like you were your own worst critic. was it good enough? did they notice the slight crack in your voice during the emotional scene? and why did you nervously laugh when they said, “thank you for coming in”?

every message and call since had you hurtling towards your phone. it was becoming a bit ridiculous, really. the first couple of days, it was exciting. you’d get a text notification and scramble to check it, only to be greeted by spam.

you’d sigh, deleting it quickly, before going back to refreshing your email.

this was a recurring thing, it was starting to piss you off.

the moment your phone buzzed, you almost tripped over your own feet to grab it. but there it was: the dreaded unknown number you’d seen three times today. you stared at the screen, feeling your heart deflate. “i don’t want to renew my car’s extended warranty!” you groaned into your pillow.

by day four, you were convinced your phone was mocking you. it sat there, silent, while you tried to distract yourself with literally anything. you started scrolling through social media, but every post was about someone else’s big break, and you found yourself glaring at your screen.

“oh, of course, you booked a role,” you muttered, jealously eyeing a friend’s celebratory post about a commercial gig. “good for you, toothpaste ad girl.”

you even tried taking a walk, thinking the universe might be kinder if you weren’t obsessing over it. the park definitely slowed your mind as you watched the ducks, glancing over to the family happily laughing about anything and everything.

it’s crazy the difference in your lives, but even though you didn’t know them, you wished for them to keep their happiness even with how you were feeling right now.

by the end of the week, you were practically glued to your phone, sitting at the edge of your couch. you’d made yourself a cup of tea to calm your nerves, but it had gone cold hours ago, untouched.

and then it happened.

your phone lit up, and this time, it wasn’t your mom or a scam call or a text about household essentials. it was your manager’s number flashing on the screen. you grabbed the phone, nearly dropping it in your haste.

“hello?!” you answered, a little too loudly. you winced, immediately trying to play it cool. “oh, i mean, hey! what’s up?”

there was a pause on the other end, the kind that had you holding your breath. then your manager’s voice crackled through, sounding oddly chipper.

“guess who just booked the role?”

you let out a noise that was somewhere between a gasp and a squeak. “are you serious?! i got it?!”

“you got it!” your manager confirmed, laughing. “they loved your audition. said you brought a lot of… unique energy to the role.”

you frowned for a split second. unique energy? what did that even mean? but you didn’t have time to dwell on it because the excitement bubbling up inside you was too overwhelming. you started pacing back and forth, bouncing on the balls of your feet.

“oh my god, oh my god!” you shouted, completely losing any semblance of chill. “this is huge! this is– wait, you’re not messing with me, right? because if this is a prank, i swear i will–”

“relax,” your manager interrupted, sounding amused. “i promise, it’s the real deal. bob washington’s production company called me directly. they want you on set next week.”

“bob washington?” you echoed, your eyes widening. “like… the bob washington? he’s producing it?”

your heart was thudding harshly in your chest. you nearly dropped the phone, switching it to your other hand as you ran a nervous hand through your hair. bob washington. legendary producer, hollywood royalty, and a man known for creating some of the most iconic films of the last decade.

“yup,” your manager confirmed, clearly revelling in your reaction. “they’re calling it his biggest project in years. high budget, a-list cast, the works. they wanted someone fresh and dynamic for your role, and, well... you knocked it out of the park.”

“oh my god,” you breathed out, sinking onto your couch. your legs felt like jelly, and you were pretty sure your pulse was now audible. “i can’t believe this is happening. i can’t– this is insane!”

“i know, right?” your manager agreed, sounding almost as excited as you. “this is the kind of project that could change everything for you. it’s going to be intense, but it’s exactly the opportunity you’ve been waiting for.”

you could hardly sit still, feeling like you might burst out of your skin from the rush of adrenaline. “okay, so… what happens next? do i need to do anything? when do i start?”

“calm down,” your manager laughed. “i’ll send over all the paperwork today, and you’ll need to sign off on it. but you’re officially set to start next week. first day is monday. they want you on set early for wardrobe and a quick read through.”

“monday?” you echoed, eyes widening. “that’s in, like, three days!”

“yup,” they replied casually. “showbiz waits for no one, especially when bob washington is at the helm. so take the weekend to get your head straight and be ready. oh, and maybe do some research on the other cast members. you’re going to be working with some big names.”

you nodded, even though they couldn’t see you, taking a deep breath to steady yourself. “okay. okay, i can do this.”

“that’s the spirit,” your manager said, their tone turning a bit softer. “this is your big break. you’ve earned it. go get ready to blow everyone away.”

“thank you,” you managed to say, voice thick with emotion. “seriously. for everything.”

“don’t thank me yet,” your manager teased. “save it for after you’ve made it through the first week without fainting.”

you hung up, staring at your phone in disbelief. for a moment, you just sat there, letting the reality of it all sink in. you’d gotten the call. the role you’d dreamed of was yours and in a few short days, you’d be stepping onto a set unlike any you’d been on before.

your first day on set was a whirlwind, and calling it crazy would be a massive understatement.

you were beyond nervous, practically buzzing with a mix of excitement and fear. you’d changed your outfit at least five times that morning, scrutinising every detail as if your career depended on whether your shirt said “professional” or “i have no idea what i’m doing.” by the time you arrived, you were convinced they could see the nerves shaking through you.

but all your worries melted away the moment you stepped onto the lot. instead of the cold, judgmental stares you’d been bracing for, you were met with warm smiles and friendly greetings. the crew bustled around you, nodding and waving, making you feel like you were already part of the family. it was as if everyone had collectively decided that you belonged here, no questions asked.

“hey, you must be the new star!” a woman in a headset called out, grinning as she approached. “i’m sara, assistant director. welcome to the madness!”

you laughed, the tension easing just a bit. “that obvious, huh?”

“well, we did hear about you,” she replied with a wink. “bob’s been talking you up since the casting decision. he’s really excited about you joining the team.”

your stomach fluttered at the mention of bob washington. it felt surreal, knowing that a man of his status had taken notice of you. “i’m just hoping i don’t mess it up,” you admitted, trying to keep your smile steady.

“you won’t,” she said simply, squeezing your shoulder. “c’mon, let’s get you over to wardrobe. they want to do a final fitting before we start blocking your first scene.”

you nodded, following her through the maze of trailers and equipment. as you walked, you couldn’t help but take it all in. the towering sets, the clamour of voices, the scent of fresh coffee and sawdust hanging in the air. it felt like stepping into another world, one you’d only ever dreamed of being part of.

wardrobe was a flurry of fabric and pins, the team immediately setting upon you with expert hands, adjusting and perfecting your look. they chatted as they worked, making you laugh with their behind the scenes stories and gossip about past productions.

it was impossible not to feel at ease around them, and by the time they were done, you felt like you’d already made a few new friends.

stepping out of the trailer in your costume with a newfound confidence. taking a breath before meeting up with sara.

“looking good,” sara called over, giving you a thumbs-up. “ready for your first scene?”

you took a deep breath, the nerves settling into something steadier, like anticipation. “ready as i’ll ever be.”

“great! we’ll do a quick run through on set, and then we’ll start filming.”

you followed her to the soundstage, where the set was already in full swing. cameras were being adjusted, lights were positioned just so, and the director was deep in conversation with the cinematographer. the air buzzed with energy, and for a moment, you felt like a small cog in a very big machine.

but then bob washington himself appeared, striding across the set with purpose. he looked exactly as you’d imagined. a tall, silver-haired man with an aura of calm confidence, like he knew exactly what he wanted and how to get it.

he spotted you instantly, breaking into a broad smile as he approached. “there she is!” he said warmly, extending a hand. “our newest star. i’m so glad you could join us.”

you shook his hand, hoping he couldn’t feel the slight tremble in your fingers. “thank you, mr. washington. this is… incredible. i’m really honoured to be here.”

“please, call me bob,” he insisted, waving away the formality. “and the honour is ours. i’ve got a good feeling about you, you’re exactly what this film needs.”

the praise made your cheeks heat up, and you couldn’t help but smile back. “i’ll do my best to live up to it.”

“i know you will,” he said confidently. “now, let’s get you into position. i want you to feel comfortable, so if you need anything, just let us know..”

as bob walked away to speak with the director, you took your place in front of the camera for the first time. the lights were hot, the crew was watching, and the nerves threatened to bubble up again. but then you remembered the way everyone had welcomed you, the genuine smiles, and bob’s encouraging words. you took a deep breath and rolled your shoulders back, settling into the moment.

“all right, everyone, quiet on set!” the director called out. “we’re ready for the first take.”

the set fell silent, and you felt the weight of it, the anticipation hanging in the air. you were about to speak your first line, to step into this role that you’d fought so hard for.

and for the first time all day, you didn’t feel nervous. you felt ready.

“action!” the director shouted.

it was the second week of filming when you first met josh. he strolled onto set with his dad, cutting through the chaos of cameras and crew with an easy confidence, like he’d done this a million times before. you hadn’t known what to expect, you’d heard people whisper. the washington name came with a lot of preconceived notions, but when he flashed that wide, boyish grin at you, all your assumptions melted away.

josh was nothing but lovely from the start. he introduced himself with a playful smirk and a handshake that lingered just a moment longer than necessary. “and you are?” he asked, his eyes bright with curiosity, like he already knew your name but wanted to hear you say it.

you gave it, trying to keep your own smile polite and professional, but it was hard not to be charmed by the way he looked at you. “nice to meet you, josh.”

“trust me,” he replied, leaning in slightly, voice dropping to a low whisper, “the pleasure’s all mine.”

from that moment on, josh was a regular presence on set, always finding his way over to where you were between takes. he’d crack jokes, compliment your performance, and offer you his hoodie whenever the chilly air left you shivering. 

it wasn’t exactly a secret that he liked you. it was there in the way he lit up when you entered a room, the way he leaned closer when he talked to you. he was flirty, sure, but never in a sleazy way. it was sweet, almost shy at times, like he couldn’t quite believe his luck that you just might be interested in him too.

one afternoon, you found yourself sitting together at the edge of the set, the sun dipping low behind the trees. most of the crew had wrapped for the day, the noise dying down to a soft murmur as everyone packed up. josh sat close enough that your knees were almost touching, a faint smirk on his lips as he handed you a coffee he’d picked up from the food truck.

“figured you might need a pick me up,” he said, eyes glinting with amusement. “you looked like you were about to fall asleep standing up during that last scene.”

you laughed, taking the cup from him gratefully. “wow, so i’m that obvious, huh?”

“only to someone who’s paying attention,” he teased, nudging your shoulder with his. he took a sip of his own drink, then glanced sideways at you, his expression softening. “you’ve been killing it, by the way. i know everyones been super impressed.”

you felt a blush rise to your cheeks, caught off guard by the compliment. “thanks, josh. that means a lot.”

he was quiet for a moment, watching you with a soft look in eyes. “you know,” he said slowly, like he was testing the waters, “i’ve never really seen someone fit in so quickly. it’s like you’ve been a part of this cast forever.”

“i could say the same about you,” you replied, raising an eyebrow. “you’ve practically become one of us, and you’re not even in the movie.”

he chuckled, the sound low and warm. “yeah, well, maybe i just like hanging around you.”

there it was. that flirty charm that made your pulse quicken every time. you tried to play it cool, leaning back and giving him a teasing smile. “is that so?”

josh’s grin widened, but then he looked down, almost sheepish. “yeah,” he admitted softly, and for once, he didn’t sound like he was trying to impress you. it was just honest. “you’re different, you know? in a good way.”

you opened your mouth to respond, but before you could say anything, a loud voice called out from across the set. “josh! we need you over here for a second!”

he sighed, rolling his eyes but standing up anyway. “duty calls,” he said, but before he walked away, he turned back to you, taking a small step closer. “let’s hang out after this. just us,” he suggested, his tone hopeful.

you couldn’t help but smile. “yeah,” you agreed, feeling a jolt of excitement you hadn’t felt in a long time. “i’d like that.”

josh’s smile was all teeth as he jogged off, giving you a quick wave before disappearing into the crowd. you watched him go. it was impossible not to feel something for him, the way he made you feel seen, special. you couldn’t help but wonder if he felt it too, or if it was just his natural charm.

by the time shooting was nearing its end, you’d formed the softest spot for josh. it wasn’t just the way he made you laugh or how he seemed to know exactly what to say to put you at ease.

it was the little routines you’d fallen into together, the kind that made it hard to imagine your days without him.

every morning, without fail, josh would show up at your trailer with your favourite drink in hand. he’d knock once and then let himself in with a bright, teasing grin. “good morning, beautiful,” 

it didn’t matter how tired you were or how early the call time was. he'd always bring a bit of sunshine with him, and you’d find yourself smiling back even on your worst days.

it started with his playful affection. at first, his hands would land on your shoulders as a joke, squeezing them dramatically like he was an over the top masseuse. “rough night?” he’d ask with a wink, his fingers digging into the knots from the long hours on set. 

but as the weeks went by, those joking massages turned into something more real. he’d work out the tension in your neck and back while the makeup artists did their work, his touch firm but gentle, the kind of attention that made you melt.

“careful, you’re going to put me out of a job,” one of the makeup artists would joke, glancing between the two of you with a knowing smile.

josh would just chuckle, his hands lingering a bit longer than necessary before he’d sigh dramatically when it was time for them to move on to your hair. “fine, fine,” he’d say, stepping back like he was truly reluctant to let you go. but then he’d slide into the chair beside you, threading his fingers through yours without a second thought, as if holding your hand was the most natural thing in the world.

he’d sit there contentedly, scrolling through his phone with his free hand, occasionally showing you a funny meme or a video he thought you’d like. he always had that wide smile on his lips, the kind that made it clear just how happy he was to be there with you. it was a kind of peace, a quiet connection that neither of you had to put into words.

you knew people noticed, and you didn’t mind. it was hard not to smile at the way he looked at you. the playful flirting had given way to something tender, something that felt a lot like the start of a relationship neither of you had fully acknowledged yet.

as your makeup artist stepped back and declared you camera ready, josh gave your hand a gentle squeeze. “you look amazing,” he said quietly, his voice low and sincere, all the teasing gone from his tone.

you turned to him, meeting his eyes. “thanks, josh,”

“i couldn’t have done it without my personal masseuse.”

he laughed, leaning closer so no one else could hear. “anytime,” he murmured, his breath warm against your ear. “but, you know, you don’t have to wait until we’re on set for this kind of attention. we could... make it a regular thing.”

your eyes flicked up to meet his, and you saw it there. the unspoken question, the hope he was trying to play off as casual. you bit your lip to hide your smile, giving his hand one last squeeze before letting go.

“yeah,” you said softly, feeling the warmth bloom in your chest. “i’d like that.”

the last weeks of filming flew by in a blur, each day bleeding into the next. if you weren’t on set, you were out grabbing late night drinks and dinners with the cast or rehearsing lines together. it felt like you were constantly moving, your days filled with laughter. just pure fun with all your new friends..

well, most of them, anyway.

then there was olivia.

no matter how friendly you tried to be, it was like talking to a mirror. everything bounced back at you with a reflection of fake smiles and hollow laughter. she was sweet and bubbly when others were around, playing the role of best friend like it was written into her script. but the second you were alone, her expression would shift. like she couldn’t drop the mask fast enough.

you were in the middle of reapplying your lip gloss in the bathroom when the door swung open with a bang. olivia stormed in, her heels clicking sharply against the tile. she came to a stop beside you at the sink, her gaze briefly meeting yours in the mirror before she looked away, pulling out her compact and patted at her makeup.

for a moment, there was nothing but the sound of her rummaging through her purse and the muted thump of music coming from outside. you kept your focus on your own reflection, but you could feel her presence next to you, heavy and expectant, like she was waiting for something.

finally, jessica let out a huff, a tight, forced laugh that seemed to come out of nowhere. “you know,” she said, her tone as sugary as ever but dripping with something darker, “it’s funny.”

“what is?” you asked, capping your lip gloss and glancing over at her.

she leaned in closer, the smile on her lips so thin it looked painful. “how everyone is obsessed with you.” her voice was sharp, each word pointed like the edge of a knife. “it’s almost impressive, the way you’ve got them all wrapped around your finger. i mean, what’s your secret?”

you blinked, caught off guard by the sudden shift in her tone. “olivia, i’m not–”

“oh, spare me,” she snapped, dropping the sweet act entirely. her eyes narrowed, the fake friendliness dissolving. “don’t play innocent. you know exactly what you’re doing.”

a frown tugged at your lips, confusion mixing with a flicker of irritation. “i’m just here to do my job,” you said, trying to keep your voice even. “if i’ve upset you somehow–”

“upset me?” jessica cut you off with a dry laugh, tilting her head like she couldn’t believe what she was hearing. “god, you really think you’re above it all, don’t you? just because everyone likes you right now doesn’t mean they always will.”

you took a step back, feeling the heat of her words. there it was. the real olivia, finally showing through the cracks of her perfect persona. “i’m not trying to compete with you, liv,” you said quietly. “we’re supposed to be a team.”

she scoffed, rolling her eyes. “oh, please. we both know this industry isn’t about teams. it’s about who shines the brightest. and right now, that’s you.” she snapped her compact shut and shoved it back into her bag with a sharp motion. “but don’t get too comfortable. you’re just the flavour of the month.”

you took a deep breath, trying to steady yourself. it would’ve been easy to snap back, to throw her own words in her face, but you knew that was exactly what she wanted. instead, you offered her a small, tight smile. “if that’s how you feel, then i’m sorry.”

her eyes flicked up to yours, a flicker of surprise flashing across her face before she quickly masked it. it was almost like she hadn’t expected you to be so calm, like she’d been gearing up for a fight you weren’t going to give her.

“whatever,” she muttered, but her voice was sharper now, laced with something bitter. she turned on her heel, strutting towards the door with a slow, almost mocking glance back over her shoulder. “enjoy this little fling with josh while you can,” she added, her tone practically dripping with disdain.

her smirk widening as she continued, voice dripping with bitterness. “he’s just being nice to you. it’s what he does– flirts a little, makes you feel good about yourself. you’re not the first girl to fall for it, and you definitely won’t be the last.”

you swallowed hard, but the sting was already spreading through your chest. it felt like she’d reached right in and found the one spot where you weren’t sure of yourself, digging her nails in just to see how much it would hurt.

“i give it a few weeks before he moves on to someone else,” jessica added, her tone almost singing now, like she was savouring the taste of the words. “i’m sure he’ll find another little pet project soon enough.”

she turned and strutted out, the door slamming shut behind her, leaving you standing there in the echoing silence. you stared at your reflection in the mirror, your hands gripping the edge of the sink so tightly your knuckles turned white. you tried to shake it off, to tell yourself that she was just being petty, but her words had landed right where they were meant to.

you couldn’t help but wonder if she was right. maybe you weren’t special. maybe you were just another girl caught up in josh’s charm, another temporary distraction for him to play with before he got bored.

as you walked back out to rejoin the others, you felt the sliver of doubt she’d planted start to grow, worming its way deeper into your mind. you couldn’t shake it, her words playing on a loop, biting and bitter. 

you’re not the first girl to fall for it, and you definitely won’t be the last.

you stepped onto set and josh looked up immediately, his grin spreading across his face as soon as he caught your eye. it was like the whole room disappeared for him, like you were the only person he wanted to see. for a split second, you felt the warmth of it wash over you, the easy comfort you’d come to crave.

and then that sliver of doubt dug deeper, twisting painfully. you frowned, forcing yourself to look away as you made your way to where you were supposed to be, brushing him off without a word. you could feel his gaze follow you, his smile faltering, slipping away like he couldn’t quite understand what had changed.

i give it a few weeks before he moves on to someone else. 

olivia’s voice echoed in your mind, harsher now, louder. you clenched your jaw, eyes fixed on the ground as you took your mark. you didn’t dare look back at him, even as the silence stretched on and you knew he was still watching, trying to catch your eye.

you distanced yourself from him for the last few days of filming. it wasn’t something you planned, but every time you saw him, olivia’s words clawed their way back to the surface, sharp and jagged, cutting into whatever fragile hope you had left. 

you started to lock your trailer door in the mornings, sitting in the too quiet space with your heart pounding in your chest. your stylist team exchanged concerned looks behind your back, their hands moving a little more gently through your hair, as if they could sense the storm you were holding in.

the pain gnawed at you, raw and relentless. how could you be so stupid? you thought. of course this was how it would end. he was josh washington, the son of a hollywood icon, used to getting whatever he wanted. he could have anyone, and you’d been foolish enough to think you were different. that you were something more than a temporary distraction.

you were angry, but mostly at yourself. angry for letting your guard down, for believing that the way he treated you meant something real. it hurt in a way you hadn’t expected, a dull ache that pulsed through your chest every time you saw him across the room.

and when you did see him, he looked just as lost. his usual bright smile had dimmed, replaced with a soft, uncertain look that he reserved only for you, like he didn’t quite know what he’d done wrong but was desperate to fix it. you tried to avoid his eyes, but it was impossible. they always found you, pleading silently for you to come back, to talk to him, to let him in.

but you couldn’t. not now. not when you were convinced it had all been a lie.

on the final day of shooting, you pulled away from your friends as they gathered for one last photo, your throat tight with the effort of holding back tears. you forced yourself to look up, and there he was, standing across the room, watching you. the look on his face broke you a little more. a mixture of confusion, sadness, and something you couldn’t quite place, something that made you want to run to him and pull him close, even now.

he tried to give you a small, sad smile, but it didn’t reach his eyes. it was like he was holding out an olive branch, unsure if you’d take it. your heart twisted painfully, the urge to just say screw it almost overwhelming.

you debated for a second, the weight of it all crashing down on you. then, you managed the briefest of smiles, a tiny, strained thing that faded almost as soon as it appeared. it was all you could give him. and when you turned to leave, there was a tug, a pull from you to him.

the door closed behind you, and you didn’t look back.

a year passed, and life moved on. at least, that’s what you kept telling yourself. you stayed in touch with the friends you’d made on set, the group chat still active. but it wasn’t the same, not without him.

you’d started to make a name for yourself in the industry, your social media blowing up when the announcement came that you’d be starring in a new film. the feedback was overwhelmingly positive, fans excited to see you. it should’ve felt like a triumph, something to celebrate, but every time you saw the comments or got a congratulatory message, there was a hollow ache you couldn’t shake. 

you tried to fill the void with dates. new people, new places. but none of them went past the first dinner or drinks. you laughed and made small talk, but it always felt forced, like you were going through the motions. you kept telling yourself it was because you were busy, too focused on your career to make time for anything serious.

but that wasn’t the truth, and you knew it. you missed him. you missed josh. the way he’d made you feel, the way you clicked from the very first moment. it was something you’d never had before and hadn’t found since, and it haunted you more than you wanted to admit. you hated how you left things, but the thought of facing him, of looking him in the eyes and seeing what hurt you caused. it terrified you.

you sighed, leaning back in the vanity chair as your makeup artist lined your lips with whatever product she was using. it felt good to be back in the routine of it all. you closed your eyes, letting yourself sink into the comfortable rhythm of the brushes, the gentle hum of conversation around you.

your playlist played quietly in the background, filling the silence with a mix of your favourite songs. and then, it shifted to something different, a song that made your chest tighten painfully. 

the one that used to play in his car, the one he’d sing along to, off-key and grinning as he’d turn up the volume just to make you laugh. you opened your eyes, staring at your reflection in the mirror.

the smile you’d been wearing slipped away, replaced by something softer, sadder. the makeup artist paused, noticing the change in your expression.

“you okay?” she asked gently, her hand hovering near your shoulder.

you forced a small, tight smile. “yeah,” you lied, your voice barely above a whisper. “i’m fine.”

but as the song played on, you realised just how untrue that was. you weren’t fine, and you hadn’t been since the moment you walked away from him.

there wasn’t time to dwell on it, not when the makeup artist was stepping back to admire her work, giving you a final nod of approval before you were whisked away to get dressed. you were guided behind a privacy screen where a small army of stylists and assistants waited with your gown. 

it was a process, the kind that required several hands, gentle tugs and tucks, and lots of patience. you held your arms up as they shimmied the dress up your body, the fabric whispering against your skin as it slid into place. it was stunning. a custom made one, of course. 

the bodice was sleek, hugging your curves in deep, midnight blue satin that seemed to shimmer under the light. it had a delicate sweetheart neckline, showing just the right amount of collarbone, and thin, elegant straps that wrapped around your shoulders.

as they adjusted the fit, you glanced down at the intricate beadwork that trailed from your waist, cascading into the full skirt like a waterfall of tiny, sparkling stars. the gown flowed out into a subtle train behind you, the kind that made you feel like you were gliding when you walked. it was a dress designed to make a statement, to turn heads and capture attention the second you stepped into the room.

but as they fluffed the layers and pinned a few final details, your mind drifted back to him. would he be there tonight? you hadn’t asked, too afraid of the answer. if he was there, would he even look at you? did he hate you now for leaving the way you did? and did you even want to see him, knowing it would bring back everything you’d tried so hard to bury?

the stylists stepped back, murmuring their approval, and you turned to face the mirror. for a moment, you barely recognized yourself. you looked beautiful, powerful even, like you belonged in the spotlight that was awaiting you.

you smoothed your hands over the satin fabric, taking a steadying breath. it was showtime. whatever happened tonight, whoever you might see, you needed to keep your head high.

“ready?” one of the assistants asked, offering you a bright smile as they held the door open.

you nodded, forcing a confident smile as you stepped out into the hall. “ready as i’ll ever be.” 

but as you made your way to the venue, the sound of your own heartbeat seemed to drown out everything else, a constant, pounding reminder that no matter how you looked on the outside, you were far from ready.

the second your heels touched the pavement, you were met with an explosion of blinding lights. flashes erupted from every angle, the paparazzi swarming you, desperate for the next big story. voices overlapped in a chaotic frenzy:

“look here! over your shoulder! who are you wearing tonight?”

you forced a smile, dazzling but rehearsed, turning slightly to give them a better angle as you adjusted the skirt of your gown. the cameras loved it, loved you. you could almost hear the clicks getting faster, the flashes coming quicker, and you knew by the looks on their faces that the photos would be everywhere tomorrow.

but your eyes weren’t on them; they were searching the crowd, scanning the sea of faces. you caught sight of your castmates just inside the venue, a familiar group gathered together in the warm light, posing for photos of their own. you watched as they laughed, their smiles wide and genuine. for a moment, you felt a pang of longing, you missed them, missed the easy camaraderie you’d once had.

you took a deep breath, lifting your chin a little higher as you made your way towards the entrance. the red carpet felt like it stretched on forever, every step heavy with the weight of anticipation. you could feel the eyes on you, not just from the photographers but from the crowd gathered behind the barriers. fans calling your name, reaching out with pens and posters. you waved, gave them that same bright smile, even as your stomach twisted into a knot.

you made your way over to the fans lined up along the barricade, the shouts of your name cutting through the noise. you couldn’t help but smile as you leaned in, reaching for the first outstretched poster.

“can you sign this?” a girl asked breathlessly, her eyes wide with excitement.

“of course,” you said warmly, scribbling your signature across the glossy paper before handing it back. you moved down the line, taking your time with each person, pausing to hold their hands and answer their rapid fire questions as best you could.

“what’s your favourite scene in the new movie?” someone yelled.

“can’t spoil it for you!” you teased, giving them a playful wink. “but you’ll love it, i promise.”

you paused when you saw a young teen, her cheeks wet with tears, clutching a phone case with your face on it. you knelt down a little, brushing a stray tear from her cheek with a gentle thumb.

“hey, you alright?” you asked softly, giving her a reassuring smile.

she nodded quickly, wiping her face with her sleeve. “i just… i can’t believe i’m meeting you.”

your heart melted a little at that. “well, i’m so glad you’re here,” you said sincerely. “you’re amazing. don’t forget that, okay?”

you hugged her quickly, the crowd erupting in cheers around you. when you pulled back, she was beaming, and it made the exhaustion you’d felt all day fade away. you moved on, taking selfies with everyone who asked, laughing and chatting. it was honestly one of the best parts of your night.

you took a deep breath, flashing one last smile at the crowd before stepping back. the fans waved and shouted their goodbyes, their faces lit up with joy, and you couldn’t help but feel the same joy in your own chest.

the red carpet felt endless beneath your feet, stretching out in front of you like a vivid trail leading you toward a thousand cameras, all flashing at once. it was chaos, but the good kind. the kind where you could almost feel the excitement buzzing in the air, like a collective anticipation. 

the energy of the crowd was contagious, and you couldn’t help but smile, soaking in the moment as you made your way down the carpet, exchanging waves and greetings with familiar faces. it was all about the premiere, of course, but for you, it felt more like a reunion of sorts. a chance to reconnect with old friends and colleagues you hadn’t seen in a while.

you hadn’t gone more than a few steps when a voice broke through the noise.

“look at you! killing it out here!” 

before you even had time to react, a warm hug pulled you in. ryan. a guy you’d worked with on a previous project, was grinning at you with that mischievous twinkle in his eyes. he stepped back to give you a once over, then mock pouted. 

“you’re out here making me look like an amateur. you should’ve warned me.”

you chuckled, adjusting the hem of your dress as if it were the most dramatic thing in the world. “not true. you’re just not bringing enough sparkle to the table,” you teased, nudging him playfully with your elbow.

he raised an eyebrow, looking you up and down. “i’m just trying to keep up. but i gotta say– mission accomplished. you’re stealing the spotlight tonight.”

the photographer’s call broke through the banter, and with a flash of the cameras, you both struck a pose. you leaned in slightly, offering your best smiles as the clicking of the cameras. you could hear the photographer giving a quiet “perfect!” before they moved on to catch the next moment.

you gave him a quick wave and moved on, weaving through the throng of excited actors and industry folk, all basking in the glamour of the night. there was something intoxicating about it – the shared joy, the excitement, the way everyone seemed to be feeding off each other’s energy.

a few steps down, you spotted someone you didn’t know well but had met at industry events before. a woman whose laugh was as big as her personality. she waved as she caught sight of you, and before you could even offer a word of greeting, you were pulled into a warm, tight hug. 

“is this your first premiere?” she asked, her voice bright with curiosity.

you smiled, shrugging a little. “no, but i’m still kinda freaking out. there’s just something about the flashing lights that makes me feel a little claustrophobic,” you admitted with a laugh.

she grinned, understanding exactly what you meant. “it’s like being in a fishbowl for a night, right? everyone’s looking at you, but you’ve got to own it. let’s have some fun with it!”

the cameras around you both clicked as you posed together, flashes going off so quickly you could hardly keep up. there was no rush, no pressure. just laughter and the easy chemistry that made you feel at home in the chaos. after a few more shots, you thanked her and kept moving.

the next few minutes blurred together, more poses with more familiar faces. a guy you’d met once at a party last year, a rising star in a rom com who was just starting to get their break through, a selfie with someone who had appeared in an indie film you adored. 

it felt like an effortless stream of interactions, as if you were just hanging out with friends instead of being on a giant event.

but then, you noticed something. as you made your way down the carpet, the crowd around you seemed to dissipate. you didn’t know if it was your own sense of space or just the natural ebb of the event, but suddenly you found yourself alone. there was no one nearby, no familiar faces laughing or posing for pictures. just the sharp clicking of cameras and the hum of voices from the crowd. 

the realisation hit you like a wave, and with it came the creeping tide of anxiety. your heart began to beat a little faster, the flashing lights growing brighter, the eyes of the photographers turning into an overwhelming pressure. it wasn’t just the cameras. it was the sheer number of people, all of them looking at you, all of them waiting for something, expecting something. 

you tried to steady your breath, forcing yourself to smile through the nervous tightness that was starting to crawl up your chest. but it wasn’t working. the world seemed to be closing in, the noise around you getting louder, more suffocating. 

and just when you felt like you might lose it, a hand settled firmly on your waist. before you could process what was happening, you were gently spun into someone.

your hands landed against the solid expanse of their chest, you looked up, you met josh’s eyes, his face soft with concern, a quiet understanding in his gaze.

"hey,” he said, his voice low, cutting through the madness. “you okay?”

the world slowed. his presence was the grounding force you needed, the anchor that pulled you back from the edge of panic. you inhaled deeply, feeling your heart rate slowly return to normal, the suffocating weight of the moment lifting. 

“yeah...” you said, your voice barely above a whisper. “i think i am now.”

you both turned back to the cameras, the bright flashes momentarily blinding you, but josh’s presence beside you grounded you. his hand, warm and firm around yours, tugged you gently, guiding you into a slow spin. the world around you seemed to slow as you turned, the cacophony of the red carpet fading into the background. 

“isn’t she so beautiful, ladies and gents?” josh’s voice rang out, effortlessly confident, the words slipping out like a natural compliment, as though it was the simplest truth in the world. 

all that was heard were cheers and whistles surrounding you.

you couldn’t help but laugh.  a genuine, startled laugh, the kind that bubbled up from deep inside you. the sound echoed around you, and it felt like the air cleared for just a moment, like the weight of the night lifted. you stumbled slightly, your feet shifting against the plush carpet, and found yourself falling back against him. 

his arms caught you instinctively, pulling you close. the warmth of his chest against your back, the steady pressure of his hand on your waist. you glanced up, meeting his gaze, and suddenly the world didn’t seem so big, it didn't feel so overwhelming. 

but josh’s eyes, dark and intent, told you everything without a single word. there was something there. something unspoken, a silent intensity that left you breathless. it was in the way he looked at you, the way his lips quirked into a small, almost shy smile, and the way his thumb traced slow circles on your skin. his hand never left you, his touch steady, grounding you in the middle of the chaos.

you could feel the pull between you, magnetic, undeniable. the longing was palpable, the unspoken words that hovered between you both. it wasn’t just the physical closeness, the way your bodies fit together so naturally, or the way his hands held you with such ease. it was the way his eyes never strayed from yours, like he was trying to convey everything that words couldn’t. 

in that moment, it was clear — everything you both needed was right here, in the quiet tension between a glance and a breath.

and for a fleeting second, you almost forgot about the cameras, the lights, the flashes. you almost forgot about everything and just stayed in that space, just the two of you, with the unsaid words hanging in the air.

it wasn’t long before you two made your way into the theater.

you followed josh inside. the world outside had momentarily faded away as the two of you found your seats, the lights dimming around you. the film was about to start, but there was no denying the tension between you.

as the opening credits rolled, you tried to focus on the screen, your own face staring back at you larger than life. it was surreal, seeing yourself up there, but despite the excitement, there was something else that kept drawing your attention away. josh. 

you could feel his presence beside you, warm and steady. his leg brushed against yours, sending a small jolt through you. the whole theater could’ve been empty, and you still would’ve been hyper aware of him. 

the movie played on, but you couldn't quite get lost in it. your heart raced, every subtle movement from josh had you second guessing your focus. his hand was now dangerously close to yours, just a few inches away. with every frame, your breath caught a little more, the anticipation mounting. 

ever so slowly, josh’s fingers inched toward yours. you held your breath, hoping it wouldn’t be too obvious. but as he grazed the back of your hand, a little shiver ran through you. you turned your palm up ever so slightly, just enough for him to get the hint. 

his fingers brushed against yours again, this time lingering for just a moment. your heart hammered in your chest, and you couldn't help the sly grin that tugged at the corner of your mouth. his eyes flicked over to you, a mischievous glint in them, before his hand fully settled in yours, fingers intertwining. 

you both glanced at each other, and for a moment, the world outside of that theater vanished. the film could have been playing a thousand scenes, and neither of you would have noticed. the only thing that mattered was the warmth of josh’s hand in yours, the way he squeezed it gently.

by the time the credits rolled and the lights came up, you both were still sitting close, your hands now very obviously intertwined. there was a satisfied, playful grin on both your faces, a mutual understanding of what had just happened between you, and neither of you could stop the little spark of joy that flickered in your chest. 

the crowd outside the theater had thinned, and there were only a few straggling onlookers left. the lack of paparazzi made the air feel lighter, more intimate. the flashing cameras, the constant eyes on you, had disappeared as quickly as they’d arrived, leaving only the steady presence of josh by your side. his hand was still firmly wrapped around yours, and though the world seemed to fall away, you couldn't help but feel the weight of all the whispered glances from the few people still lingering around.

you snuck a glance at him, and he caught it, his eyes meeting yours with a playful smile. you both walked in silence toward the exit, but the tension between you was thick. it wasn’t just the excitement from the night, or the high of seeing yourself on the big screen, it was something else. something you couldn’t quite name yet, but you felt it every time his fingers brushed against yours.

once you reached the parking lot, you turned to him. "do you want to come back to my place?" the words felt sudden, but they were honest. he raised an eyebrow, a knowing smirk pulling at his lips, but he didn’t hesitate.

"yeah, i'd like that," he said softly, his hand tightening around yours as you made your way to his car.

the drive was quiet but not uncomfortable. the radio hummed quietly in the background, but it was his presence that consumed your attention. every so often, you'd catch his eyes glancing at you, his face softening with a tenderness that made you feel both a little breathless. 

when you reached your apartment, he pulled up to the curb and parked, smoothly shifting into neutral. before you could reach for the door handle, he was already there, opening it for you. his fingers curled around the edge of the door. he offered you his hand, helping you out. it was such a casual thing, but it still managed to pull a smile out of you, the kind that you had to look away to hide.

he walked alongside you to your front door, his presence warm against the cool night air. he waited patiently, a step behind as you fished your keys from your bag. you could feel his eyes on you, attentive but soft, like he was memorising this small moment. the lock clicked, and you pushed the door open, stepping inside and feeling the rush of warmth against your skin.

he stepped inside, his focus shifting to the family photos on the walls as he moved with unhurried steps. the silence felt heavy now, filled only by the click of your heels across the floor as you set your handbag on the counter. you could hear the quiet scuff of his shoes as he followed, moving closer, the distance between you shrinking with every breath.

josh stood in front of you, his eyes softening as he took in the tension on your face. he could see it. the way your brows furrowed slightly, the way your lips were pressed together. the worry was evident, and it made him feel an unfamiliar ache in his chest. 

"hey," he said, his voice low and gentle, "what’s going on? you’ve been quiet ever since we got here." he took a small step closer, his eyes never leaving yours as if he was waiting for you to say something, anything. 

you opened your mouth to respond, but the words caught in your throat, trapped somewhere between confusion and guilt. what could you say? how could you explain the mess inside your head, the things that had been eating away at you for the past year?

you felt his presence growing stronger, like he was waiting for you to reach out, but you couldn’t. you didn’t know how to bridge the distance that had built up between you, even if it was only in your own heart. 

“i– i don’t know how to say this.” your voice cracked slightly, betraying the emotions you hadn’t allowed yourself to feel until now. 

josh tilted his head, concern deepening in his eyes. “you don’t have to explain anything if you’re not ready, but i'm here to listen if you are.” 

his words, that small gesture of understanding, only made the pressure in your chest tighten. the last year had been filled with silence, each day spent wondering if you’d made the wrong choice. and now, standing before him, feeling the warmth of his presence, you were finally forced to confront the truth. 

was it worth it to trust someone else's words over his?

“olivia said... she said some things about you. about us,” you began, your throat tight as you struggled to find the words. “i let her get into my head. and i chose to believe them. since i've seen past tabloids of you, and i just... i don’t know. it made me think maybe i was just another girl to you, josh. that i was nothing special.” the words were difficult to choke out, like each one took something from you.

you took a shaky breath, your voice thick with the emotion you’d been holding back for so long. “i know i should have talked to you, josh. i should’ve just asked you if it was true, if i was just another girl in a long line of flings. but i couldn’t bring myself to do it.” you looked down, your gaze fixed on the floor as you admitted the hardest part. “i was terrified. i was scared that if i asked, on the off chance that it was true, it would hurt even worse than believing the lie.”

josh’s expression shattered, he’d just realised how deep the wound went. he moved even closer, his hands sliding up to gently cradle your face, forcing you to look at him. “god, i hate that you felt that way,” he whispered, his voice breaking. “you should never have had to doubt us. i should’ve made sure you knew how much you meant to me. i’m so sorry.”

your chest tightened, a fresh wave of tears spilling over as you finally let yourself lean into his touch, the warmth of his palms grounding you in the moment. it was like he was trying to hold all the broken pieces of you together, the way his thumbs gently stroked your cheeks.

“i didn’t know,” you whispered, your voice raw. “i didn’t know if it was real, or if i was just something temporary for you.”

“it’s real,” josh said urgently, his forehead pressing against yours. “it’s always been real with you. and i should’ve done more to show you that. i’m here now, and i’m not letting go again.”

“i should’ve trusted you,” you whispered, the guilt bubbling to the surface. "but the way she said it, the way it all just seemed to line up... i thought maybe she was right. i thought maybe you were just... playing around." you swallowed hard, fighting back the tears that threatened to spill over. “i didn’t know what to think anymore. and i pushed you away.”

josh’s hands slid to your shoulders, his grip gentle but firm. “i get why you felt that way, but i’m not like that. i never have been with you.” his voice dropped, becoming more vulnerable. “i’ve been falling for you this whole time. and i know i messed up.

i didn’t fight hard enough for us when i should’ve.” he sighed, running a hand through his hair in frustration. “i should’ve told you how i felt. i shouldn’t have let you think i was anything like those guys. i’m not.”

you stood there, trying to process everything he was saying, the rawness in his words hitting you. the walls you had built around yourself started to crack, the defences you’d spent a year erecting finally starting to crumble in the face of his honesty. 

“i don’t want to be just another fling, josh,” you whispered, your voice barely above a breath. “i need to know i mean something to you.”

“you do,” he said, his voice almost pleading now. “you mean everything to me.” his hands slid down your arms, holding onto you with a desperate kind of tenderness. “i’ve been stupid, letting this distance grow between us. i never stopped caring about you. and i’m sorry for not saying it sooner. i can’t keep pretending i don’t feel this way.” 

the air between you was thick, almost stifling, as if every unsaid word hung there, waiting. your chest rose and fell, breaths coming a little faster than they should. he looked at you, searching your face like he was trying to find the right thing to say, but couldn’t.

for a second, you just stood there, both caught in that in between place, uncertain, but wanting more than you were willing to admit. you could see the way his gaze flickered, the way his hands hovered by his sides, like he was debating whether to reach for you.

you took the leap first, stepping into him and pressing your lips to his. the kiss was simple but real, like a question and an answer all at once. he exhaled against your mouth, almost a sigh of relief, and his hands found your waist, pulling you closer, like he’d been waiting for this as long as you had.

when you pulled back, the tension melted away, replaced by something softer, almost gentle. he rested his forehead against yours, letting out a quiet laugh, almost like he couldn’t believe this was happening. “i’ve wanted this for so long,” he whispered.

you smiled, feeling the weight of everything you’d been carrying start to lift. “me too,” you admitted. “but no more excuses, okay?”

he nodded, his thumb brushing against your cheek. “no more excuses,” he promised.

and with that, you kissed him again, letting yourself fall into it.

trusting that this time, you’d both make it count.

comments and reblogs are appreciated ˗ˋˏ ♡ ˎˊ˗

© ruewrote 2024.

[starillusion13]

Stay with me

request: "can you do a yungi x y/n one where they're in college together kinda like a childhood bsf to lovers but poly?"

Pairing: Yunho x reader x Mingi

Genre: Fluff, Friends to lovers, College Au

Warnings: they are caring bestfriends to you, mention of insult/body shaming in public by your family, reader feeling insecure, isolation, hints of skipping meals, childhood love and mention school bully and violence (just few words). Just a cute friendship to love.

W.C: 4.5k

Note: please I want to thanks to people for reading and reblogging. Reviews are always appreciated. Spread love not hate. My first Yungi fic😁.

Network: @cultofdionysusnet @k-vanity

Now let's take a moment to appreciate my dear friend @dreamsoffanfics Thanks for helping me out and being my proofreader. A dear friend indeed <3.

"She isn't coming again today..." Yunho said and sat beside his friend. The other glanced at him and looked over at your place beside him where you usually sit.

It's been weeks that you were skipping university classes without any proper reason, just texting them that you are not feeling well or you have some important stuff to do. But not clearly explaining anything — that even you are texting them the next day. They are sick and worried for you as it's normal for your childhood best-friends to be like this.

Whenever they ask you to go to your place, you quickly respond with a negative message that you have somewhere to go or someone to meet.

Nobody knows what's the actual matter with you.

"Do you think we should go over to her place and check on her?" Mingi asked while tapping the pen on the desk.

Yunho nodded before pulling out his phone to check for your message but nothing was there to his disappointment. "I am really worried about her. She has never been like this. I don't know why but after returning from her hometown, she is acting weird."

"Did her parents tell her anything again?" Mingi rested his elbow on the table and leaned to his side.

Yunho made an unsure expression to his question and dropped his shoulders. He shook his head when he remembered the last interaction with you when he met you at the convenience store.

…..

"Y/n, why don't you say no to your parents directly? I'm sure that they won't be denying it."

You sighed and turned towards him before picking up the nearest packet of chips in the basket,"And you think that? You are so wrong, Yuyu. They don't care about my opinions."

"But you can try explaining them. I'm sure they will understand." Yunho placed a milk package in the basket to which you glared at him and he sent you his puppy eyes, "Why are you looking at me like that?"

"That's a baby milk product."

"But you are still a baby." He said and held back his laugh.

This was his common teasing with you in every place and anytime you are having any serious conversation with him and whatever, however and whenever you are with him. You would feel relying on him the most. The bestest friend indeed. There’s a continuous warmth radiating from him for which you feel loved and secured. His big frame whenever he engulfs you in a hug, there’s a silent promise to you — that no matter what he would be there for you.

…..

He sighed when he imagined your face – irritated but laughing with him for the last time that day. After that day, you went to your hometown as it was the end of exam season and you didn’t meet your family for a long time. Last break, you were sick and had so many pending projects for several events that you opted for staying back on campus and completing them before it was too late.

It was late afternoon when they both finally had their last class and packed up their bags to leave the university. Anyways, they were not actually planning to stay there though. Mingi texted you a lot of times during the classes but some you ignored and to some, you replied with one word or just some common usual replies.

They both checked the timing and went towards the parking lot. Yunho took out the keys from his jacket’s pocket and Mingi was quick to enter the passenger seat. Both of them were in a hurry. They were eager to meet you. Before starting the engine, Yunho sighed deeply. A look of worry was visible on his face.

“I hope she is fine.”

Mingi nodded and patted his shoulder, “I’m sure, she is.”

…….

“Yah! Min…did you just eat my snacks yesterday?” stomping your feet, you reached the living room and stood in front of said man and glared at him.

He was so into the video game that he didn’t see your anger but just waved his hand and tried to push you aside. You hit his hand and the controller fell from his hold and sulkily he looked at your face.

“I was about to win the game.” He whined and leaned back into the couch.

“And I am about to eat you if you don't give me my snacks back.”

“Which one?” He furrowed his brows and crunched up his nose. “I’m gonna tell Yunho to buy them for you on his way back home.”

“No. Why’ll he buy it? You ate them and it’s your responsibility to buy them. And you know very well which snacks I’m talking about.” You pulled him up and dragged him towards the door, he was whining on his way but you ignored him and gestured to him to hurry up. “Don’t give me faces.” You folded your hands.

“But that store is far away.”

“And you know how to drive.”

……

While driving to your place, they stopped by some places to buy flowers, chocolates, ice cream and your favorite foods. When Yunho took a box of chocolates, he smiled at the thought of your smiling and excited face after receiving it. He puffed his cheeks and grabbed some other things as well.

Similarly, Mingi was smiling all the way when he bought your favorite ice-cream. He knew how you would jump on your feet after seeing it. He couldn't content his own happiness while buying it.

Apart from all these, they still called you to check on you. Yeah, after ignoring a few calls, you finally decided to pick up. The line was silent at first but then they heard shuffle sounds from the other side, Yunho was quick to speak into the call.

“What are you doing, y/n?” His voice was soft yet demanding.

They heard your deep sigh before your voice, “I don’t know.”

“What do you mean by you don’t know?”

“If I was really doing something then I could have told you. I was just laying on my bed and …..thinking.”

Actually, that was the main thing, they wanted to know whether you were at your apartment or not. If they would have asked you directly, then you could have got the hint of them wanting to come over to your place and you would have quickly made up a reason to avoid them.

Why actually were you avoiding them in the first place?

“Okay, then keep laying down and think.”

Yunho glared at Mingi at his weird reply but the latter just blinked at the phone in his hold and at him. They heard your chuckle and a little smile appeared on their faces. Atleast, you laughed— maybe a little.

“Why did you call me? Where are you both?”

“We are–”

Yunho cut Mingi’s answer, “hanging out.”

“Oh…okay. Have fun!” you tried to sound more enthusiastic but they could feel the sadness.

They didn’t drag the conversation because they knew that in a few minutes, they would be at your place and then you couldn’t ignore them or their questions. And this time, they would be surely erasing all your worries and sadness.

.

.

.

Almost after fifteen minutes, you heard your doorbell ring. You groaned at the thought of someone coming to your place at this time and you glared at your bedroom door. You got up from the bed and yawned before stepping in front of the mirror. You made a disgusted face at your reflection and combed your hair with just your fingers.

The bell rang again and you scoffed before mumbling under your breath while making your way towards the main door.

“Let me see whether I look like a human or not or it won't be my fault if you get scared.”

You peeked through the peephole and you were surprised to see your bestfriends standing at your doorstep on the other side. You quickly opened the door and your round eyes were staring at them.

“You both? Here…now?” you asked but slowly moved aside to welcome them inside. Mingi gave you the flowers they bought for you and smiling, you took them. You noticed paper bags in their hand and after closing the door, you followed them to the kitchen when they placed the bags on the kitchen counter. You stood beside Mingi who gave you a bright smile and started taking out the items from the bag. Your eyes were recognizing each little thing was your favorite as if they bought things for a child who was whining for all their favorites.

He grabbed the ice-cream bucket and turned towards you, “This was the last box and I quickly bought it for you. I hope you won't be angry with me again if I ever eat your snacks.” he took the flowers from your hand and tugged them in the vase on the counter top.

“Mingi..” You groaned but quickly took the tub from his hand. You wasted no time and opened the lid. You watched Yunho place some things inside your refrigerator but he approached you with a red box in his hand. You furrowed your brows when he placed it in your free hand.

“Chocolates for my cutie.”

When you noticed the ribbon on top of the box, your eyes went wide, “Don't tell me you went to that store to buy this. This is so expensive.”

“But you are more expensive.” He said and raised a brow at you, challenging.

You laughed at his antics and shook your head, “You both are spoiling me too much.”

“Of course. We love to spoil you.” Mingi said with a smug look.

Your couch had a lot of clothes and books so you asked them to follow you to your bedroom. They both were quick to trail behind like lost puppies but they exchanged looks because they both were hesitant to ask you about the time after returning from your hometown.

Entering your bedroom, they found out that it looked like as if some disaster happened over there. You were never that messy and disorganized. You rolled your eyes at the mess but offered them the free space around the bed.

You scooted towards the headboard and they placed themselves close to you. You offered some chocolates to both of them and you scooped a spoon full of ice cream and put it in your mouth.

“This will always be my favorite.” You offered two separate spoons to them and extended your hand so that they could eat the ice cream. They took small bites.

“So why are you here suddenly? You didn’t even inform me before coming.”

“Because you wouldn’t have allowed us to come here like other days.” Mingi muttered and kept staring at you. Hearing those words from him, you avoided his eyes at any cost and looked down at your lap. You were guilty but also the reasons for which you were avoiding them were running across your mind.

You bit your lip and wanted to disappear from their gazes. But Yunho scooted closer to you. You felt his knees touching yours and his warm hands grabbed your chin to make you look at him.

“Look at me, Y/n. What’s the matter?”

You avoided his gaze but only to make eye contact with Mingi. You closed your eyes and cursed yourself for behaving like this. But no matter how you feel like running away from them, you still want to stay close. You want to hear their soothing voices talking to you. Spend time with them.

“Y/n…” Mingi pronounced your name softly.

You took a deep breath before looking at him and then to Yunho. Your eyes wandered around his face. A perfect, sweet, soft and confident person in front of you. Excellent in every aspect. Good looking, handsome and tall just like Mingi but who is more intimidating than him.

Yunho’s eyes wandered around your face, he was searching for your discomfort, your sadness and what was the reason you were ignoring him and his friend.

“Am I really not good?” You asked him in a hushed voice. Your shaky pupils and lips between your teeth was making him hesitant.

Why was he feeling that? Is he worried or angry? Angry with you? Because you ignored him all these last days?

“Who said that? You are the best.” Mingi rubbed your back and your body shivered under his touch. Yunho cupped your face in his palms and stared at you, urging you to speak more, “Tell us please. Why were you avoiding us?”

“I didn’t avoid you. I was thinking…”

“You think a lot. What were you even thinking?” His thumbs caressed your cheeks, slightly brushing your lips. Your tears were lining your eyes. You didn’t mind crying in front of them, you have cried before since middle school until now, you have cried to both of them but they never judged you.

But his heart was aching to see you like that, so vulnerable in his hold. You held his wrists tightly when he gave you a small smile.

“I’m feeling insecure lately. Don’t feel like doing anything.”

“Why?”

“This break, I went to a family function with my parents and all my other cousins were present there too.”

Both of them nodded and let you continue. You bit your lower lip and stuck it between your lips.

“They pointed out to me how I have gained weight and also I’m just an average student in my university unlike others there. They were all too pretty and all had boyfriends so they called me the ugly one. Maybe, I am really how they see me.”

“No Y/n, you are not. Don’t take those words to heart. Ignore them.”

“But I can’t, Mingi. Those words are hitting me as if I can still hear them telling me those things repeatedly. You know what's worse about this. My mom laughed with them, she was supporting their accusations.”

“I never liked your mom.”

You turned to Yunho when he said that and you raised your brows, “She didn’t like you either. She always thought that you were a bad influence on me. But she just let me be friends with you only because you are rich.” Then again you turned towards Mingi, “About you, she thought you were some sort of rebellious kid like a gangster because she always saw teachers complaining to your parents regarding your fights.”

“It’s your fault. You are the one who threatened me not to tell your mom that those students were disturbing you so when they didn't stop. I knew I had to beat them.” Mingi smiled after recalling those beautiful memories.

He added, “And that’s how we became friends. Remember?” You nodded while remembering those happy days. Yunho was holding your hands in his and Mingi patted your head, “We missed you these days. You were not talking with us.”

“I was searching for a boyfriend.”

“Really?” He asked you and hesitantly looked between Mingi and you, you felt him squeezing your hands. You nodded but sighed again, “Kidding. I was…isolating myself.”

“Why am I like this?” You asked with a whisper.

“But who would ever love to have an ugly girl like me as their girlfriend?”

“Like what sweetie?” Yunho questioned. ”And don’t even question yourself. You are perfect.”

You took a few seconds, collecting your thoughts. Yunho and Mingi wait patiently, Yunho running a soft hand through your hair and with his other one entangling his fingers with you. You inhaled softly and lifted your head up to make eye contact with both of them. Your mind was hazy with lots of thoughts.

“I feel so pathetic. I feel like I can’t ever do anything correctly. Why do I feel like this? I get overwhelmed by little work and this college stuff. I can’t handle the gossip about me and I feel like I fail at everything. It’s just… too much.” A tear slid down your cheeks and Yunho looked at you with eyes that held so many emotions.

He would do absolutely anything for you, if only it meant it would guarantee your happiness. Mingi was the same, he would again beat anyone for you. He would go to any extreme end just to ensure your well being and that you are smiling.

After all, Mingi first fell for you on the day when he first beat a boy who was making fun of you in front of the whole class. You were crying and he had enough, so he punched the guy across his cheek but the way you stared at him after that, even when he was getting scolded from the teacher, that's when he couldn’t help but smile at you and you gave your bright and wide smile.

That smile did something to him.

He fell in love with you. But you both were just kids.

So, you both became best friends.

Yunho was a transfer student who was a shy and quiet one in the beginning. And somehow they both were placed at the same bench, they quickly became friends. He joined the dance club after exactly one year of friendship with Mingi. Yunho was quick to become a social butterfly. He knew everyone around the school, mostly because of his dance club membership.

But there was this one thing. Even though he got compliments from others, he always wanted to hear your comments on his dance moves and if you ever said just a word like ‘good’, he would smile foolishly as if he achieved something. After every performance, he would search for you in the audience and could find you clapping excitedly at him with Mingi beside you.

You didn't know but whenever you were not around both of them their main topic was about you. They used to talk about you with admiration and love towards you. This was the main reason for them to become friends. And they followed you to the same university.

And they still think about you like that everyday.

“Oh Y/n, you’re not pathetic. Not at all. Everyone has different capabilities, and that’s completely fine. You have so many talents, so many amazing people around you who appreciate you. And you are so beautiful. You’re our girl aren’t you? The only one for us.” Yunho looked at you expectantly with an adoration in his eyes.

There was a look of worry on their faces similar to whenever you felt sick and he would rush to your place to take care of you and soon after Mingi comes with medicines and food.

You looked away, not meeting his eyes but Mingi caught your eyes and raised a brow. You quickly replied, “Yes, yes I am.”

His breath hitched when you said those words while staring at him. Both of their hearts felt warm but there was something more, they wanted to say. Something that they think of now is the right time. Maybe…there's also uncertainty in the air.

He beamed with delight. “That’s right baby, you’re our girl, and always will be.” Mingi added to his friend's words, ”We’re here to take care of you. I know things are hard, but I will do whatever I can to make it easier for you.” Your heart aches from the care you’re being shown. You love your bestfriends so much.

You hold so much love and respect for them that you’re not sure how to even contain it. You just feel like exploding with affection. When you again felt like crying on the thought, Mingi pushed a spoon full of ice cream in your mouth, “The ice cream is melting like you.”

“Mingi…” you whined with teary eyes. They both laughed at you when you snatched the tub from him and placed it on your lap.

“Y/n, can I ask you something? Please don’t hate me or him after this. But I really want to tell you this. Can I?” He asked.

“Of course, Yuyu. you can tell me anything.” Mingi wiped your tears and you smiled towards him before turning your whole attention on Yunho. Your eyes eagerly waited for him to say whatever he wanted and he glanced at Mingi who nodded and looked back at you. Yunho again held your hands, squeezed them a little and brought them to his lips. These sweet gestures were common to you from him but you felt so nervous this time. Your heart beat increased with every second.

Is he going to end your friendship after this? Are they tired of your dramatic breakdowns?

“Will you be our girl, Y/n?”

You blinked at him and looked at them confused, “Am I not already?”

Mingi chuckled, “Not that silly. Will you be our girl? Our girlfriend?......Please.” he whispered the last part.

For a moment, you thought that they were joking but when you found them staring at you expectantly, waiting for your answer.

“Are you joking?”

“No…”

You quickly turned around and hugged Mingi, “Please tell me. This is not a joke.”

“It’s not.”

“Then, am I dreaming?”

“No silly, you are not.”

You raised your head from his shoulder, he was still moving his hands up and down your back, “Yunho calls me sweetie and you call me silly. This is not fair.”

And here you go.

Mingi cupped your face in his hand and pressed a soft kiss in the middle of your forehead and smiled dearly at you, “You are my silly girl. My silly…only mine.”

Yunho rolled his eyes, “Don't gatekeeper her to yourself. We agreed to mutual this between us. I said ‘our’ specifically but you are saying only yours.”

You looked between both of them and licked your lips before muttering slowly, “Are you pitying me?”

“Y/n…” Yunho called your name with love and held your hands before shaking his head, “we all are different in our own ways. And you are perfect for us. We have seen the imperfect you…the real you. We have seen the ugly versions of you and also the pretty versions of you. But we loved the unfiltered version. The version which felt like you were mine. You are mine.”

“Why do I feel like you are calling me ugly but in a sweet way?”

“Maybe I am.”

“Yuyu…” You hit his arm and continued, “I will ask Mingi to beat you.”

He scoffed, “He can't because he is too weak.”

The latter laughed when you stuck out a tongue at his friend.

“But……isn’t it wrong for both of you to love me? What will others think?”

“I don’t care about others. Are you uncomfortable with this? Say it, Y/n. Are you?”

You shook your head when Mingi turned your face to him, “We want to hear you. Say it please.”

“No. I’m not. I’m happy……I like both of you.” You muttered under your breath.

“What? I can’t hear you. Did you hear something, Yunho?” Mingi creased his forehead and asked his friend who pulled you on his lap and leaned your back on his chest and held both of your hands in front and rocked you in his hold. “No, Mingi I didn’t hear anything.”

“Yeah. because I didn't say anything.”

They both started laughing loudly when they saw you shyly looking down and Yunho rested his chin on top of your head, “But I love my sweet girl the most.” he placed a kiss and softly confessed, “I love you, Y/n.”

You held his hand and played with his fingers. You felt him nuzzling into your hair when you closed your eyes and smiled, ��I love you too, Yunho.”

Mingi scooted closer, sitting in front of you he cupped your face and you quickly looked at his face expectantly when he confessed, “I love my silly girl. I love you so much, Y/n.”

“And I hate my snacks thief. I love you toooooo, Mingi.”

He chuckled and pressed a soft kiss on your forehead and nose, filled with overwhelming love and care.

“Now come on, Y/n. I know you aren’t eating properly these days. So let’s eat the food we bought for you earlier.”

“ I don’t want to eat. I’m not hungry.” You smiled brightly and looked at them with a fake pout.“But thank you for all the love and care. I’m so full with it.”

“Uh uh, don’t give me that look. You’re eating, and that’s the end of this conversation.” He said in a stern voice before standing up. You crawled away from him when Mingi caught you in his arms and stood up holding you bridal style and heading to the kitchen, trailing behind Yunho who was singing your favorite song.

Mingi placed you at the table, letting you watch the other one prepare plates. You were swinging your legs back and forth, already feeling so much better and humming the song with him. Mingi went back into the bedroom and came back with the ice cream tub to put into the fridge and sat next to you. He joked and sometimes said some nonsense to make you laugh and you giggled uncontrollably.

He could see the little you laughing with him in the classroom.

“You are finally mine, Y/n. The girl I adored and loved for all these years. The girl whose smile I love the most is smiling at me and sitting with me not as a friend but as my girlfriend.” He held your hand and kissed your knuckles.

“I’m so happy that my bestfriend is my boyfriend and you are the one who can only annoy me and steal my snacks. Oh wait! You have to buy me more snacks now or I am breaking up with you.” You faked a shocked expression.

“Not sorry to disturb you but she is our girlfriend. My best supporter. Here comes the food.” Yunho swirled on his feet and placed the food dramatically on the table, having the silliest look on his face.

You screeched with laughter. “Yunho, my jealous baby.” He sat across from you and pushed the plates towards you both.

“Oh? Now I’m your baby. Last time I checked it was you who bought baby milk products. ” He grabbed his fork and pointed at you with squinted eyes as if he’s in deep thought. You let out a scoff at his antics and he raises an eyebrow at you, “I didn't. You were annoying me.”

“Oh…okay..now let’s talk less and eat more..”

You excitedly nodded and dug into the food. Their eyes followed your actions and they shared looks between them with little smiles appearing on their faces. They nodded towards each other and started eating the food with you.

And they promised to themselves that no matter what the situation is, they will always stay by your side. They still kept the friendship letter from you which you gave them for the first time during Christmas and they would always fulfill your wish.

‘Stay with me……always.’

Taglist: @mymoodwriting @justhere4kpop @anyamaris @yeoobin @icchyi @jwnghyuns @piratequeen-queenofgames @dinonuguaegi @oreharuuu @hwanring @sanwifesstuff @kiwiisnthereoops @kiwiraccoon @hyuukah @kazscara @aceofspadesbiofalltrades @nvdhrzn @meowmeeps @vtyb23 @haechansbbg

[open!]

[forlix]

𝐟𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐧 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐫・h.h.

— an impromptu drive to the airport at five in the morning rekindles conversations and feelings alike.

words・2.5k pairing・ex-boyfriend!hyunjin x gn!reader genres・angst, mutual pining, hurt w/no resolution, established (former) relationship, Airport Scene™ warnings・implied toxicity, strong language, Not a Happy Read

a/n・dear anon who asked where this went after i posted and deleted it a few months ago & dear other anon who requested mentioned hyune angst: this is for u, my loves

“I’m outside,” was how you were greeted over the phone earlier, in a tone so callous and cold that you barely recognized the speaker. Barely.

“Sorry, you’re what?”

“You have a flight today, right? I said I’d take you to the airport.”

One second, you were at a complete loss; the next, you thought you were going to erupt with how much you felt and how much you wanted to say, the weight of the situation hitting you with full force. Your ex-boyfriend, to whom you hadn’t spoken in nearly three weeks, had just materialized outside your home with no warning at the ass crack of dawn and suggested you get into a car alone with him for an hour.

As if that wasn’t the very last thing you wanted to do.

Briefly, you reflected on how you parted ways; you wouldn’t say the breakup was malicious, but it certainly wasn’t amicable, either. The longer your relationship went on, the more questions you raised—important and unavoidable considerations of your future together, none of which Hyunjin could give you substantial answers to. Whether it was because he couldn’t or because he simply didn’t care to try, you didn’t know. But the fact that you had to ask yourself that at all was enough for you to take a step back.

Distance morphed into passive aggression. That, in turn, precipitated constant conflict. The starlight that you saw in Hyunjin fizzled further with every biting word and slammed door. The resulting supernova was far from the beautiful spectacle you’d been promised in your astronomy textbooks.

Standing on the sidewalk outside your apartment was your fallen star in the flesh.

“Let me do this, Y/N."

You’d gone silent for what felt like whole minutes before Hyunjin spoke again.

"Please," he added. You perceived how the word weakened towards the end, some of the frost in his voice displaced by quiet exasperation.

It was these observations, plus the time displayed on the clock hanging above your bathroom door, that prompted you to take your luggage in hand and leave your apartment. You were going to miss your flight if you stood there, glowering silently, for any longer.

When you emerged into the frigid morning, you spotted Hyunjin’s silhouette immediately, and something inside you came undone, as though a knot had been doing itself over and over since you and him parted ways. Your eyes locked together, your gaze contemplative, his a little surprised, as if he didn’t actually expect you to accept his offer.

The first word that came to your mind was exhausted. You could tell that the shadows on his face weren’t just products of the lone streetlight above his head; he had his back curved in a slouch that made him look a few inches shorter than he was. You were reminded of a balloon with an indiscernible opening somewhere on its surface, gradually and inevitably deflating.

Much to your irritation, the second word to surface in your mind was beautiful. Hyunjin’s normally sharp features, from what you could see beneath his hood, were bare and smooth from fatigue; thick strands of dark hair, longer than you remembered, fell effortlessly over his forehead and his cheekbones; his figure somehow looked even broader, leaner when fitted in the loose material of a hoodie and sweatpants.

He was the spitting image of a man you used to know, who looked just like this whenever he wandered into your bedroom at the end of the day, whenever he wrapped you into his arms and littered kisses over your skin until sleep overcame the both of you like a warm, clear tide, whenever he greeted you with a smile that shone like the tropical sun the next morning.

You were standing in front of a ghost.

You broke eye contact first, averting your eyes to your luggage instead. Just in time to see and feel his hand brush against yours when he took your suitcases from you and loaded them into the trunk, all without saying a word.

Now, twenty minutes have passed since Hyunjin started driving, and forty remain before you reach the airport. The vehicle is deathly silent save for the drone of wheels against pavement and wind whistling against dusty windows. You haven’t looked at Hyunjin since you met him outside your place. Instead, your eyes are fixated on the lights of Seoul and the way they flicker out of sight one by one as you drive further away.

And you remember.

The different memories you have of this car blow through your mind like you’re skimming a flipbook. That time you burst into tears mid-drive and Hyunjin pulled over on the side of the highway, giving you his undivided attention as you ranted about the terrible day you’d had. That time you noticed a paparazzi van stationed around the corner and the two of you sank so low in your seats that you had to later unfold yourselves from beneath the glove compartments. The assorted dog-shaped air fresheners you bought for him, a new one hanging from the rear-view every month (except the one that resembled Kkami, which stuck around for almost a year). The caffeine-flavored kisses shared over the cupholders between the seats, one person tipping over the drinks precariously, the other moving to catch them with a soft huff of laughter. The extra hoodie he kept in his backseat for if you ever accidentally underdressed when you went out together. The playlist you curated together, always playing quietly in the background.

You never gave this car a second thought when you and Hyunjin were together, but it is only now that you realize the place felt a little like an extension of home, of him.

The silence becomes fucking excruciating.

You are not sure if Hyunjin is interested in speaking to you. You’re less sure if you even have anything to say to him. But you open your mouth anyway.

“Thank you,” you say, hardly audible. “For doing this.”

A pregnant pause follows. Hyunjin probably wasn’t expecting you to start a conversation—neither were you, to be fair.

Little do you know that he has been trying and failing to string together a sentence since the moment he started the engine, and hearing your voice feels like clouds parting on a foggy day, a singular ray of sunshine settling on his cheek.

“It’s no trouble,” he returns. He’s quiet for a while after this, and you’re beginning to think the conversation is already over when he clears his throat.

“How are you feeling? About the trip, I mean.”

“Good. I think it’ll be nice to get away from Seoul for some time.”

Your choice of answer is intentional, and you can tell by Hyunjin’s lack of immediate response that he picks up on this.

“And you?” You return. “How’ve you been?”

“Fine, thanks. The members and I went to the states a few days ago, finished up album promotions there.”

“Oh, right.” He’d told you about this; they’d been in Japan prior, if you remember correctly. “And everything went well?”

“Yeah. It was a lot of fun.”

“When did you get back?”

You don’t expect him to hesitate at such a simple question, but he does.

“Few hours ago,” he mumbles.

This takes you a few seconds to process. And then, so surprised at his answer that you can no longer help yourself, you finally lift your gaze to the side of Hyunjin’s face.

Your eyes comb over the fluorescent lights of the highway illuminating the slope of his nose; the weariness clouding his irises; his teeth latched gently around his lower lip, as if trying to prevent himself from saying another word.

Hyunjin turns his head to look at you, too, only for a few seconds and more out of anxiety than anything. But you have long mastered the art of reading the fine print of his facial expressions, and that brief interval is enough for you to catch what hadn’t been there the last time you’d looked him in the eye: the true reason why he’d hardly set his bags down on the dormitory floor before he was leaving again, piling into a car and going to you; the same entity that you know is etched all over your face, too.

Yearning.

He is the one who looks away first this time, with a soft snap of his head like he has to force himself to do it—but the damage has already been done.

“Idiot,” you mutter under your breath, and you mean it in every sense of the word.

And it’s so unexpected (and so damn true) that it wrests a laugh from Hyunjin’s lips, the sound every bit as light as it is dark. The bittersweet smile that it leaves behind on his face mirrors helplessly onto your own.

You don’t say another word to each other for the rest of the drive.

The sun has risen by the time Hyunjin pulls up to the curb of the international terminal, but there’s hardly anybody around at this time of day, so he doesn’t mask up before stepping out of the car. He places your suitcases in front of you, then holds up a finger as a silent gesture of wait right there—and he dashes up the curb, beelines towards the line of trolleys, and pulls one over. 

You feel a helpless warmth in your fingertips as you haul your suitcases onto the metal platform together. Even now, he’s taking care of you, as thoughtlessly and naturally as respiring.

“Is that everything?”

“I think so.”

And the two of you find yourselves two feet apart and facing each other, examining your counterparts as if the answer of what the fuck to say now lies in the curves of their cheeks, in the purse of their lips.

But all you obtain from looking at Hyunjin is a glimpse of that wicked entity again, yearning, now in the form of eyes softened by the sunrise and lips parted by forbidden words, sitting readily on the tip of his tongue.

You feel a deep, hollow sadness within you, derived from knowing and hating that no amount of yearning will change the reality that he’s not yours anymore.

“Have a great trip,” Hyunjin says at last. “Be safe, okay?”

“I will,” you answer. “Thank you again. Get some rest today.”

Your arms move to push your trolley, but not before they nearly twitch in his direction with how much you want to hug him goodbye. The last thing you see before turning around is his hand in the air, and then you enter the airport, wondering vaguely if you will ever see him again.

You're in a bit of a numb state as you check in your bags and step into the line for security. The last hour has left you feeling like your heart and mind have filled with static—the kind that shows up when there are too many television signals in the air, all of them unintelligible and amorphous.

But then there is a shout of your name behind you, so urgent that the familiar voice cracks over the last syllable, like bone breaking upon boulder. You turn around.

The white noise clears.

The soles of Hyunjin’s sneakers echo as he runs across the mostly-empty airport; his hood has been knocked down and his long hair set free, combed backward by the wind; there are other eyes on him, but he is only looking at you, something else burning in his gaze now, something certain and familiar. 

You move your suitcases aside and extend your arms, your pulse racing with anticipation—just in time for him to positively crash into you. He very well could have hurt you with how quickly he’s moved toward you, but the very instant his skin meets yours, he’s gathering you so tightly and securely in his arms that he cushions his own fall, costing you only of the breath in your lungs.

And the two of you fuse together like a cosmic collision, imperfect but quintessential. The moon’s craters themselves.

He knots one hand in your hair and cradles the back of your neck with the other; you form fists around the fabric of his hoodie, your face disappearing into the junction of his neck and shoulder. And you feel the tears come at last: tears of relief, of regret, of remembrance.

There are a billion things Hyunjin wants to say to you then. He wants to thank you for loving him. He wants to blame you for loving him. He wants to tell you that it was all worth it for him, so long as he was once the reason that you smiled. He wants to convince you—and himself—that nothing was meant to last forever, that the two of you were destined to burn out, the same way even the biggest and brightest of heavenly bodies have shelf lives too.

But there is one train of thought that overshadows the rest. It rings louder and truer than anything he has ever known and emerges straight from the chambers of his heart.

“I—” He sounds shattered when he speaks, his voice muffled where his lips touch your skin, his words a rasp that is only audible to you. “I still—”

“I know,” you whisper, squeezing your watering eyes. “Me too.”

And you think the shaky “fuck” that leaves his lips is an apt summary of the absolute mess that the two of you have found yourselves in: entirely and obtusely enamored with the person who has proven themselves to be incompatible with your love, time and time again.

You are only willing to pull away far enough from Hyunjin so that you can look at him, his cheeks now damp with saltwater and flushed with emotion, his dreary eyes swimming with adoration and sorrow. You cradle his face with both hands, and he drops his arms to circle around your waist. His fingers lace together against the small of your back.

“It’s gonna be okay,” you murmur. You wipe at his tears with your thumbs, touch your forehead to his. “We’re gonna be okay, Hyun.”

His reply is so sad and so small that your heart feels like it’s being carved out of your chest with a blunt pocket knife. “When?”

You don’t know the answer.

You don’t know the answer when you finally go through security, the final boarding call for your flight booming through the intercom, Hyunjin’s face buried in his shaking sleeves.

You don’t know the answer when you return to Seoul a few months later, and Hyunjin is not there to give you a lift this time.

You don’t know the answer when your birthday passes and you still receive texts from Hyunjin’s parents, wishing you well, reminding you to take care of yourself. Nor do you know the answer on the birthday after that, or the birthday after that, which is when the texts stop coming.

You won’t know the answer for a very long time—so much so that you spend years of your life doubting there’s an answer at all. But you find it one day when you least expect it, and it congeals in your mind like expired milk, numbs your mouth like the strongest of anesthetics. 

You have your answer then, but you don’t want it.

You never have.

🔖・@astraystayyh・@like-a-diamondinthesky・@fire-08・@starsandrqindrops・@txtxlz・@laylasbunbunny・@strayghibli・@nuronhe・@seungminsapuppy・@vivisoni・@skzms・@moon0fthenight・@sweetpickledjins・@svintsandghosts・@nhyunn ・@ur-boyfiend ・@liknws・@hotgorloikawa

© 𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐱 (est. 090323) · liked this work? please consider reblogging, commenting, or sending me an ask to let me know; or, read my other writing here. thanks so much for the support ♡

[gyusimp]

°•Car sex after work

⚠️WARNINGS: NSFW, MINORS DNI, Smut content, Modern AU, Fem reader.

U wanted smut? You get smut 💅🏻 (sorry for the delay, now i'll go tu fucking sleep 🧚‍♀️ and hope u like it)

It was almost time to go home, you had already finished your chores for today at the office. There were 20 minutes left to leave so you took out your cell phone and started browsing the internet and your social media. You looked at some posts and videos, you kept scrolling on your fyp until you found a reel of a female page with interesting topics.

You entered the profile and saw some important tips and articles until you saw one that caught your attention. "Benefits of a long and abundant squirt" you read the list in the post and then pressed the comments button to read the opinions of others. There were many other girls or most of them saying that their couples very rarely or almost never managed to make them reach that level of pleasure, while others said that not all women are capable of achieving it and other opinions and debates. That made you think, had Gyutaro ever made it with you? You've had sex with Gyutaro so many times that you've lost count. Of course you remember making yourself squirt, but right now you couldn't remember if it was also on the occasions where you were with your boyfriend. You saw the clock on your cell phone and it was just time to leave, you grabbed your things and went down to the parking lot to get into your car and start it.

A few days ago Gyutaro's motorcycle suffered some mechanical problems so since it would be in the mechanical workshop for a couple of days, you offered to pick Gyutaro up from work and take him home. As you drove to his work, you kept trying to remember in the corners of your head, but everything was so blurry. You thought about asking Gyutaro after you greeted him with a kiss and he got into the car but it would be too random and perhaps awkward a question, you would end up blushing up to your ears and Gyutaro would make fun of you all the way back even though You would have explained the context of your question to him so you decided to stay silent and talk about anything else with him.

"Hey, just let me buy some things for dinner honey."

"Of course, babe."

You drove until you entered the parking basement of a mall, inside there was a supermarket that you frequented so you would buy some things for dinner and some snacks for the weekend. You got an empty space and parked and then got out of the car with Gyutaro and held hands to enter the supermarket. You were talking to your boyfriend and choosing the products you were looking for, but your mind in the background kept thinking about what you had read.

Seeing Gyutaro made your heart race and made you feel like your panties had suddenly become too tight, making your core throb with every brush of your thighs as you walked. You went to pay for your things and went back to the parking lot to put away the purchases and finish eating some popsicles that you bought for you and him in the car and continue talking. Your mind kept wandering that topic, you looked at how sexy your boyfriend was and you couldn't get it out of your head that you wanted to make love to him right now to see if he was capable of making you feel that way. You both finished eating the popsicle, Gyutaro was about to fasten the seat belt but your hand surprised him when from his muscled thigh it slid to the middle of his pants, right at his crotch. The boy looked at you surprised but smiling playfully, maybe a quickie wasn't bad.

Gyutaro loved to do it every once in a while somewhere where the two of you could get caught. However, the basement parking lot of the mall was dark and all the cars around yours were empty so it was the most favorable scenario for now. Plus, the windows of your car were dark enough that people outside couldn't see anything going on inside. You took off the jacket you were wearing as well as your pants, followed by your blouse as Gyutaro undid his belt and unbuttoned his pants. You got up from the driver's seat and sat on his lap, straddling him and taking his face for kissing him passionately while he caressed your entire body and took off your bra to throw it in the back seats. Gyutaro's tongue left a hot, wet trail from your ears to your neck, taking one of your breasts into his mouth while he sensually massaged your other nipple, making you begin to moan. Your hips moved on him in circles making your small panties wet, the fabric slipping between your folds until your lips began to peek out from the edges. Both of Gyutaro's hands on your ass, you could feel the tent just below your clit causing electricity to run throughout your body until your boyfriend's curious and desire filled fingers pushed your panties aside from your crotch to free your pussy.

"Wow...you're really needy babe." Gyutaro said, licking his lips at the sight.

He wanted to throw you on the back seat and place both of your legs on his shoulders and immerse his face between your legs for hours until he made you writhe with pleasure and made your toes cramp trying to stretch within the small space of your car but his cock was greedier so he decided to pull down the edge of his boxers to let you continue moistening his tip in the middle of your crystalline folds. You were very wet and needy too, you asked Gyutaro to put both hands on your tits and not stop touching you while you rode him, holding onto his shoulders as if your life depended on it. You felt the car move with the jumps you made on top of your boyfriend. You thought that if someone saw the movement maybe they would know what was happening but you couldn't care less at this moment.

"Aaah-aah, Gyutaro..." the heat inside the car was unbearable but it helped to arouse you both even more. "The seat...tilt the seat darling-ngh! Aah!"

"As you want."

Gyutaro wanted to tease you a little, he grabbed the lever under his seat and in less than a second he pulled it causing the seat to suddenly recline back making you jump and lose your balance momentarily, causing Gyutaro to slide inside you until the bottom. You both moaned deep in your throats as you felt you clench around him making him cum. Sweat dripped down your boyfriend's forehead, your breasts bouncing with each of your jumps until you suddenly felt a small usual release from your orgasm, making you moan repetitively and arch your back, wetting Gyutaro's pants.

It was just a quickie so Gyutaro would settle into his seat and compose himself to go home, until you grabbed him by the collar of his shirt to kiss him.

"We're not done yet..." You motioned for him to change positions and he gladly accepted.

You were now lying back on the seat while Gyutaro took off his shirt on top of you. You placed your feet on the dashboard of the car and opened your legs so your boyfriend could take off your panties, putting them in his pocket while he sank back into you.

"Gy-Gyutaro! Please touch me, aah! Touch me more!"

You demanded that his fingers be in every part of you, you lowered your fingers towards your cunt and looked for that place that drives you crazy so that Gyutaro could touch it and play with it over and over again just like you do sometimes. You told him how to move his fingers and at what speed. Luckily the boy is very smart with these things, his fingers worked wonders and the edge of his nails on your folds while he kneaded your clit quickly made you shiver completely. You spread your legs wider to give him more room and then you realized how hot it was inside the car. You didn't want to stop and miss this magnificence just to turn on the air conditioning, you would rather hold out a little longer until you were done. The heat was unbearable, the smell of sex filled the vehicle, the windows began to fog up and the sweat ran from behind your knees to your heels.

You could feel Gyutaro slosh into you over and over again making the passenger seat creak. Your insides tightened, your abdomen tensed and you felt your clit get wet and throb more and more until a delicious sensation took over your entire pussy and caused a full stream to come out of you, wetting your ass, Gyutaro's clothes and everything. seat.

At first you thought you had peed and imagining that killed you with shame but then you noticed that the smell was not the same. Plus, you had just gone to pee when you got out of the car before heading to the grocery store. Seconds later Gyutaro had his second orgasm and finished dirtying the couch beneath you with his seed dripping out of the two of you until little by little his thrusts stopped and he pulled out of you to help put you back together.

You were very happy! You had proven that Gyutaro was the perfect man, he had just made you have the strongest squirt you had ever had. You had never had one this big even when trying new things inside your room so this meant a lot to you. The fact that he knew how to do exactly what you liked and that he treated your body as you expected and even better made you fall more and more in love with him. The seat was a mess, it was completely soaked and sticky, stained white and had a strange smell that made you blush. Your body ached and with Gyutaro's help you settled back into the driver's seat to wipe yourself with the paper you kept in the glove compartment and give some to Gyutaro for himself.

You both got dressed and you turned on the air conditioning as well as the strawberry-scented car air freshener and started the car when your legs fully recovered.

"Is your mother at home or should you go back to take care of Ume?" You asked, touching up your lipgloss.

"She's at home, actually, she must have already gotten home from work."

"Ok, then we will sleep in my apartment my love." Gyutaro smiled with amusement.

"I can't wait to rip your clothes off again." Gyutaro said, placing his hand between your legs. "I'm gonna make that little cunt splatter on me again and again all night."

[spockandawe]

Here we go! I have some smaller books to share as well, but I've been absolutely VIBRATING with excitement to share a BIG one, and I'm going to indulge myself and post that today, then figure out words for the rest. Because I bound a new cnovel. Check it out, guys, I bound jwqs/clear and muddy loss of love :D

Let me indulge myself and backtrack a little! First, these are quarto books, so they're short. But I think these average a little under 500 pages each, and jwqs is a LONG book (my beloved), and this adds up to a total eleven inches of lesbians. More like twelve once they're in their cases. It's over a million characters in Chinese and I think the English translation comes in somewhere around 890k, it's HUGE

Making these books was SO FUN, I hadn't read jwqs and still haven't, and will probably read on my phone when I do. I don't have any exciting photos of the typesetting, but I knew this was an imperial succession story, and that made me nervous, those stories don't always click for me. Well, the process of typesetting and adding footnotes for this beast definitely confirmed that I'm going to have a good time with this thing when I have the time to read it, but there was also so much going on that only the vaguest of spoilers sank in. I went into an absolute FRENZY of typesetting, and after I printed, cut and folded it, well. That was one afternoon of sewing. You're looking at the reason I'm scrambling to make up a few hours of missed work, hahaha

After that, I needed cases. At the very beginning of march, I received a shipment of some FASCINATING bookcloth. It's called Duo, and it's made by layering a thin gauzy fabric of one color over paper of a different color. Depending on the combos, you get a really cool range of color-shifting effects. And they've gone out of production! But I was part of a group order to get some of the goods, and hadn't yet finished a new project. Reader, I went for it.

That purple and green is bananas!!!! It's so hard to photograph, this midnight picture of a few cases is one of my most successful attempts to capture the full range up close. Originally I'd been thinking of trying to evoke imperial gold, but I figured this was still the kind of drama and luxury suited the book, and also something something the hidden colors suited Qi Yan's character. I tied it back a little to the imperial gold with the endpapers, then titled them in silver foil, since the endpapers had silver in them.

But once the books were made, I felt like it wanted something... more. Something like a BOX!

And me, I chase novelty. A set this large would be tricky for anything clamshell, but a slipcase for all seven would leave books tipping all over if it was wide open, but putting walls between slots would be demanding in terms of precision and would risk similarly-sized books getting stuck in the wrong slots. Then I remembered learning about slipcases where you could put in a little insert to support the weight of the text block, and the concept SNAPPED into place.

Colors aren't going to photograph well at midnight, but I made the supports using the scraps and off-cuts from my endpapers, to tie it back into the bindings. The back of the case is lined in more of the duo, and the walls are lined with a faux leather bookcloth I like a lot, it feels buttery smooth and seemed like a good neutral material to tie the papers and bookcloth together. I listened to some of the DEEPEST layers from the nine-hour conspiracy theory iceberg video while I was working on this, haha, it was a TRIP.

And in the end, each of the supports is sized to comfortably sit in the smallest of the volumes, and evenly spaced, so I believe it will take the books in any order with no problems. It's easy to grab the books without having to cut notches into the walls to grab them from. And even though weight is less of an issue for quarto sizing, the books in here have their weight supported no matter what angle the box is at! I'm so, so pleased with how this concept worked out and definitely plan to do more with it in the future.

So there we are! Jing Wei Qing Shang! I had such a fabulous time with this project, and I'm so excited to get to share it with all of you. The story was fun to work with, the bindings and box were fun to make, and everything here came together just as well as I could possibly have hoped. I'm so proud of this, and incredibly, incredibly excited to show it to you!

[alexanderwales]

I think the worst part of my experience with the internet is when people make bold claims and I say to myself "is that actually true though?" and then, rather than continuing on with my life and letting it lie, I take it upon myself to answer the question to my own satisfaction.

And this is often very difficult and time-consuming, because the thing that's boldly being claimed is complex and nuanced, and there's possibly a grain of truth somewhere that I really would need to go looking for.

I used to have a very Catholic coworker who I'd get in fights with all the time, and he was terrible about providing sources for the things he said, because obviously it was based on an article that had landed in his inbox and it was hard for him to remember all the details, except that he had definitely read it somewhere. So I would take it upon myself to say "okay, what the fuck is this guy talking about" and then eventually I would find the kernel of truth that had led to whatever was in his head. Sometimes this was interesting and worthwhile, but often it was not. On a few occasions, it was just funny/frustrating, because he'd been shared something from the Onion.

(As one example, he had said that Pepsi products contained pieces of aborted fetuses, which was clearly stupid on the face of it. But when I went to go figure out where he'd gotten that from, I learned some stuff about cell lines, and in particular, HEK-293. That cell line comes from the kidney of an aborted (or possibly miscarried) fetus from 1973, and through the magic of biology, became an immortal cell line. This cell line was then used by a company called Senomyx, which had developed a way to test sweetness using them, though so far as I know no one had any proof that they did anything with that particular cell line in association with their partnership with PepsiCo. They certainly weren't putting HEK-293 cells in their drinks. An anti-abortion group then began attempting a boycott of PepsiCo around 2010 on the basis of this partnership, which is how my coworker had wound up repeating to me the claim that Pepsi had aborted fetuses in it. I found this to be a Fun Fact.)

Anyway, tumblr is a particularly bad place for misinformation and bold claims, but today was the first time I failed to stop myself from trying to get some actual sources when someone tossed of a little treat of a fact which did not actually sound true to me. And I didn't even get the answer I was looking for!

It's tangential to this post, but the claim was that sometimes sports were segregated because women were outcompeting men, rather than the reverse. So far as I can find, the answer is "probably false if taken to be anything on the level of a trend", but gymnastics apparently has men and women doing totally different events, and without grabbing a book on the development of gymnastics as a sport, it would be difficult to determine whether the segregation was specifically because men could not compete, rather than some other motive.

The other, more clear-cut example, was mixed skeet shooting, where a woman won a gold medal in the event, then women were barred from competing the next Olympics and a separate women's skeet shooting event was made. Barring other details, this is some sexist bullshit on the part of the International Shooting Union. So I did find evidence of it happening at least once, in a single sport, which was already a sport where women are roughly at parity with men. And if I've found evidence of it happening once, there's a good chance that it's happened more than that. Seems very rare though, and more of a "because sexism" thing rather than "because biological differences". But if I didn't know about that, what else might I not know? Think about what a fool I'd look like if I displayed ignorance of Shan Zhang's 1992 Olympic skeet shooting performance and the subsequent rule change.

The other claim I was trying to track down was "what's the difference in funding for male and female sports, and can we predict how much of an impact that has on performance", which is obviously a fucking huge research question, so I was hoping that someone had done some kind of study that I could read. I don't think there's a bunch of data on how much money is spent on facilities or coaches or whatever, but I was thinking that maybe you could try to find comparable budgets. That would still leave you with some of the social/access/selection problems, but it would at least be something. If the hypothesis was that socialization and funding are the primary reason for the performance gap, we could eliminate at least one of them, and I think there are statistical methods to account for different sample sizes. I was hoping that someone would have done it, or something better than that took an actual knowledge of statistics and sports into account, but apparently not.

FWIW the sports where men and women are at something like parity appear to be those that require endurance, flexibility, or where we wouldn't think there's that much reason your specific body would matter: ultramarathons, equestrian, shooting sports, some archery, and some climbing. It would be weird to me if a difference in funding and engagement and sexism was making a difference in other sports, but not these ones, but I guess I could float some theories if I had to.

I actually do not care that much about these questions, and it gets into a lot of feminist and trans waters that people have strong feelings about, where to me it's just a research issue, trying to find some empirical data. I am including this stuff here mostly for the sake of completeness and because I dislike vagueblogging.

[briechyne]

I Did Nothing All Day

Well, except for binge-watching a ton of K-dramas that I’ve been putting off for weeks.

The luxury of doing absolutely nothing feels like a reward after spending an entire week running around, being everywhere and anywhere.

I made a promise to myself that at least once a week, I would stay at home and avoid going out—simply because I hate it. Or rather, I love the comfort of my home. Of course, it does get boring sometimes, which is why, during the week, I squeeze in moments to go café-hopping to study, meticulously plan my hours, take a walk along the boulevard, or visit the park after class. I need that time to decompress and let my mind breathe.

Speaking of the park, I love sitting there with my iPad. I don’t carry physical books—mainly because of their weight. Let’s be honest, they’re heavy, and my bag is already burdened with enough stuff. So, my iPad it is. But sometimes, I do miss the feel of flipping through actual pages. The crisp sound of turning a page, the scent of a new book, the satisfaction of seeing how far you’ve read—it’s something digital reading can’t fully replicate. Maybe one day, I’ll go back to carrying at least one paperback with me, but for now, my iPad is my best companion.

Today was unexpectedly great.

The sun was out, the weather was perfect. I woke up at 8 AM, binged all the K-dramas I’ve been meaning to watch, and finally tackled all the content work I’ve been delaying for months because, well, being a student is exhausting. Some tasks just need to be prioritized.

The funny thing is, even though I spent my entire day just lounging around, I still felt productive in a way. Watching K-dramas isn’t just about entertainment for me—it’s also about storytelling, character development, and emotions. There’s something so engaging about diving into different worlds, experiencing different perspectives, and living through the highs and lows of fictional characters. And the best part? No stress, no deadlines, no expectations. Just pure escapism.

In other words, Delulu.

I’m joking.

I’m not exactly proud of spending the whole day lying down, but given that I wake up early, go to university, juggle endless projects, and constantly feel drained, I think I deserved it.

Honestly, I’m not ready to go back to uni on Monday. Mentally, I need a break.

You know that feeling when you haven’t done any physically demanding work, yet you’re exhausted? Like all you did was sit through classes, stare at notes, and somehow, you’re still completely drained?

Please tell me I’m not the only one.

Next week already feels overwhelming, and I don’t even want to think about it.

I just…

Ha…

I need a vacation with a view of the mountains right now.

Or maybe a cozy cabin in the woods, where I can wrap myself in a warm blanket, sip on hot cocoa, and just exist in peace. No responsibilities, no noise, no obligations. Just me, nature, and the quiet hum of a world that isn’t rushing me to keep up. That sounds like a dream right now.

Anyway, I hope you had a productive week. And if you’re a student like me, I see you. We’re all tired. We all feel like giving up sometimes. But whatever your dreams may be, a degree is still important. I don’t care what billionaires say about degrees being useless—sure, you might find a career path unrelated to your studies, but having that degree gives you something to fall back on.

It’s not necessarily an “advantage,” but it’s a safety net. And in this world, sometimes, that’s enough.

Even though I complain a lot about school, I do recognize that education is a privilege. Not everyone gets the opportunity to learn, to pursue a career, or to have choices about their future. It’s easy to forget that when you’re drowning in assignments, but I try to remind myself that this temporary exhaustion is leading somewhere. Somewhere that, hopefully, will be worth it in the end.

So if you’re struggling too, just know you’re not alone. We’re all in this together, and one day, we’ll look back at this phase of our lives and be proud of how far we’ve come.

Get my point?

Have a wonderful day, friends! And if you’re feeling exhausted like me, take a break—you deserve it.

Want More?

Thanks for reading my thoughts on missing out! If you enjoy my ramblings, reflections, and general overthinking, you can find more on Instagram and Patreon.

This blog isn’t behind a paywall because these are things I want to share freely. But if you’d like to support my writing, get early access to other posts, or see exclusive content (like commissioned moodboards and extra thoughts), check out my Patreon!

📷 Instagram: @briechyne ✨ Patreon: Lena Brie

Your support means a lot, whether it’s through Patreon, sharing my work, or just sticking around to read. 💙

And, yes, in this blog we have an Extended Edition. So, please, please, please, check that out!

[joyful-soul-collector]

It'll Be Fine: Chapter 3

Summary: This is where I turn the angst up to 11

Tag List: @ihavea-natural-curiosity @milkywaysipper @fangirlshenanigans04 @voxconcordia @beetpatchkids @amiableamos @misforvendetta

Let me know if you would like to be added or removed from the tag list!

Link to AO3!

Trigger Warnings: panic attacks and flashbacks

Despite the fun Jayce had in the moment, the fourth hour was much worse. The cold had seeped through his layers now, and the wind had picked up a little, blowing right through any gaps in his clothes, and tearing at his face and hands. He was shivering. He tried not to, he tensed up every muscle in his body as hard as he could, gritted his teeth behind his lips. But it wasn’t working. His chest felt cold. The air felt like an infection, a deep chill spreading rapidly through his body with every breath he took. 

It didn’t take long for Viktor to notice. Jayce wasn’t sure it took him any time to notice, but it did take him maybe twenty minutes to say something. 

“Jayce,” he said quietly. He wasn’t looking at him, but down at some products at a booth’s table, though Jayce couldn’t even concentrate well enough to figure out what they were. “We do not have to stay.”

“It-It’s okay,” Jayce said, cringing at the way his teeth chattered. “W-We can stay, w-we haven’t even seen th-the ice sculptures.”

“Jayce, it is okay if--oh?” Viktor looked up, but not at Jayce. His gaze was fixed on something behind him, and he suddenly walked towards it, leaving Jayce to turn around. 

It was a streetlight, and clearly, falling in the light was--

“Snow!” Viktor said delightedly, calling back to Jayce. “Isn’t it marvelous?”

Jayce felt like he couldn’t breathe. The snow had started so fast, and already flakes were sticking together in the air, huge, white clumps filling his vision.

“The snow that falls in the Undercity is always black, you cannot see the little crystals since they’re covered in smog--”

It felt just like it did back then. He felt small. He felt weak. He was terrified and he couldn’t help his mom, her fingers were turning black--

“Jayce?”

They were going to die. They were going to freeze to death. He was so cold. So so so cold, it felt like he would never be able to be warm again--

“Jayce? Jayce, hey--”

The only thing that snapped him out of it was seeing Viktor try to take off his gloves again. 

“Don’t!” Jayce cried, rushing forward and clasping Viktor’s hands tight. “Don’t, don’t, you k-keep those on, you hear me?! Y-You keep those on, or I swear, Viktor!”

Viktor stared at him, and this time, he wasn’t trying to figure him out. It was sad, and concerned, a look on his face Jayce hadn’t really seen before yet. 

He pulled a hand away from Jayce’s grasp, and put it on his face, the soft cloth feeling odd against his numb skin. It wiped away something wet on his cheek, and it was only then that Jayce realized he was crying. 

“It’ll be fine,” Viktor said quietly, nodding a little. “It’ll be fine, Jayce.”

“I-I’m sorry for y-yelling, I j-just--”

“We’re going home,” Viktor said softly, patting his cheek. 

“W-What? B-But you were h-having so much f-fun, w-we don’t have--”

“I had my fun,” Viktor said, smiling a little sadly. “I did. You did perfect, Jayce.” He took his hand and put it on top of Jayce’s, clasping it tightly. “We need to get you somewhere warm, okay?”

Jayce flinched as a memory assaulted him, muffled voices of people, footsteps rushing in his ears. “Is he breathing? Hey, kid, open your eyes for me okay? We need to get you somewhere warm.”

He shook his head doggedly to clear it of the memory, and gritted his teeth together. 

“O-Okay,” he said eventually.

A/N: And that's chapter 3! A much shorter one, I know, but that's because next week's chapter is the longest of them all!! And the final one! So you all have plenty to look forward to, I promise.

Also, happy Valentine's day! It's a bit of a rough day for me ngl, being single today sucks. So for anyone in the same position as me, I hope you know that you are loved and cared for whether you're in a romantic relationship or not. It sucks right now but I hope my story brought you a little happiness today <3

[callmecasai]

🟩THEORY#2🟩

Hello everyone, again i'm doing this at night. But while i'm having more free time because of winter holidays, i rewatched welcome home audios. And alot of interesting things catch my eye. But today i will talk about this. Sit back and enjoy :)

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

FROM WHERE HOWDY GETS THE STUFF FOR HIS SHOP?

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

At first I though it was just an universal thing. That howdy Has some contacts to get the stuff. But it was never mentioned, neither from where he gets the stuff or if he even has a company he could get the stuff from. But like I said in the audios there was things that catch my eye.

Let's start with bug audios: I think those bug audios are actually audios of what is happening in the neighborhood now (or maybe after the show ended). From where this though came from? Well in the website everything that was shown to happen in the show, they had their own space in the website (they had their title, description and eventually photos) but bug audios didn't have any of that. Even one of the bugs was more realistic than others. Do you Remember the audio where Howdy was helping Sally with her choice what to eat? And how he was muttering under his nose what the products she was buying actually were?

What i'm trying to say is that i think...howdy is getting the stuff from the abandoned studio

Explanation: In the other audios like "happy haunting too Boo & yours" or Wally plush commercial or during the christmas season (homewarming) Howdy used to get all the stuff from the studio the show been going on.

If we think about it in realistic way then of course the studio was getting all the stuff for howdy. (They have to fill the shelves somehow) But also all of things that was mentioned in audios were later used in episodes (i think i can call the other audios episodes) have you noticed that?

Examples: Bowling balls. In "Just so" song frank mentions how Julie keeps adding bowling balls in her games. You know where else the bowling balls are mentioned? In the bug audio with Howdy and Eddie. So that also means the studio must have bowling balls too (they could use one bowling ball but turns out bowling balls can actually crack and be destroyed. So they could kept more just in case) Also other things could be mentioned too like seed, peas, can of beans, scarf, crispy sweets,etc. Because those and more things were mentioned later or earlier too. Other neighbours had to get them from somewhere after all. Going back to the point, the show is dead for almost for a long while (if the canon data confirms that the group started searching for welcome home in 2023 then it will be almost 50 years) and there's no way someone has been provoding stuff and food for a dead show. And the puppets are at some bigger or smaller point aware of the life outside (our world) so I think Howdy can leave the neighborhood (he's been one of the closest people after Wally to the staff so he might know from where the cameras been recording) and he tries to find anything left in the studio that he could sell in his store. And that's why instead of using normal food to sell, he use objects or items as food.

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

Though Remember I might be wrong. This is just a theory and please don't hate (I know none of you write hate comments which i really appreciate that. You guys are so sweet. But i'm still feeling nervous whenever i share my theories.) Have a nice day :)

[theextendedbriechyne]

I Did Nothing All Day

Well, except for binge-watching a ton of K-dramas that I’ve been putting off for weeks.

The luxury of doing absolutely nothing feels like a reward after spending an entire week running around, being everywhere and anywhere.

I made a promise to myself that at least once a week, I would stay at home and avoid going out—simply because I hate it. Or rather, I love the comfort of my home. Of course, it does get boring sometimes, which is why, during the week, I squeeze in moments to go café-hopping to study, meticulously plan my hours, take a walk along the boulevard, or visit the park after class. I need that time to decompress and let my mind breathe.

Speaking of the park, I love sitting there with my iPad. I don’t carry physical books—mainly because of their weight. Let’s be honest, they’re heavy, and my bag is already burdened with enough stuff. So, my iPad it is. But sometimes, I do miss the feel of flipping through actual pages. The crisp sound of turning a page, the scent of a new book, the satisfaction of seeing how far you’ve read—it’s something digital reading can’t fully replicate. Maybe one day, I’ll go back to carrying at least one paperback with me, but for now, my iPad is my best companion.

Today was unexpectedly great.

The sun was out, the weather was perfect. I woke up at 8 AM, binged all the K-dramas I’ve been meaning to watch, and finally tackled all the content work I’ve been delaying for months because, well, being a student is exhausting. Some tasks just need to be prioritized.

The funny thing is, even though I spent my entire day just lounging around, I still felt productive in a way. Watching K-dramas isn’t just about entertainment for me—it’s also about storytelling, character development, and emotions. There’s something so engaging about diving into different worlds, experiencing different perspectives, and living through the highs and lows of fictional characters. And the best part? No stress, no deadlines, no expectations. Just pure escapism.

I’m not exactly proud of spending the whole day lying down, but given that I wake up early, go to university, juggle endless projects, and constantly feel drained, I think I deserved it.

Honestly, I’m not ready to go back to uni on Monday. Mentally, I need a break.

You know that feeling when you haven’t done any physically demanding work, yet you’re exhausted? Like all you did was sit through classes, stare at notes, and somehow, you’re still completely drained?

Please tell me I’m not the only one.

Next week already feels overwhelming, and I don’t even want to think about it.

I just…

Ha…

I need a vacation with a view of the mountains right now.

Or maybe a cozy cabin in the woods, where I can wrap myself in a warm blanket, sip on hot cocoa, and just exist in peace. No responsibilities, no noise, no obligations. Just me, nature, and the quiet hum of a world that isn’t rushing me to keep up. That sounds like a dream right now.

Anyway, I hope you had a productive week. And if you’re a student like me, I see you. We’re all tired. We all feel like giving up sometimes. But whatever your dreams may be, a degree is still important. I don’t care what billionaires say about degrees being useless—sure, you might find a career path unrelated to your studies, but having that degree gives you something to fall back on.

It’s not necessarily an “advantage,” but it’s a safety net. And in this world, sometimes, that’s enough.

Even though I complain a lot about school, I do recognize that education is a privilege. Not everyone gets the opportunity to learn, to pursue a career, or to have choices about their future. It’s easy to forget that when you’re drowning in assignments, but I try to remind myself that this temporary exhaustion is leading somewhere. Somewhere that, hopefully, will be worth it in the end.

So if you’re struggling too, just know you’re not alone. We’re all in this together, and one day, we’ll look back at this phase of our lives and be proud of how far we’ve come.

Get my point?

Have a wonderful day, friends! And if you’re feeling exhausted like me, take a break—you deserve it.

Want More?

Thanks for reading my thoughts on missing out! If you enjoy my ramblings, reflections, and general overthinking, you can find more on Instagram and Patreon.

This blog isn’t behind a paywall because these are things I want to share freely. But if you’d like to support my writing, get early access to other posts, or see exclusive content (like commissioned moodboards and extra thoughts), check out my Patreon!

📷 Instagram: @briechyne ✨ Patreon: Lena Brie

Your support means a lot, whether it’s through Patreon, sharing my work, or just sticking around to read. 💙

And, yes, in this blog we have an Extended Edition. So, please, please, please, check that out!

[sempersirens]

my love, mine all mine

pairing: joel miller x f!reader

content/warnings: 18+ mdni. no outbreak!au. hurt/comfort. infertility. hospitals. alcohol.

author's note: hello my lovelies. i am so happy to be back posting - i missed you all a great deal. please forgive that this is a bit of a self-indulgent personal one, and i just want to take the time to say that womanhood is not intrinsically linked to the ability to have a child. we are so much more than that.

You'd always hated hospitals. Hated waiting. Hated the sterility lingering in the air. Everything was so unsettlingly white. The fluorescent lighting should expose at least a speck of dust somewhere, on some forgotten surface. But somehow, it never did.

The names called forth never seemed to be yours. Joel would've been in agony if he were here. Confined to the little plastic chair, time rolling on, on, on with no end in sight. You were almost thankful he had to be on-site today, leaving you to fend off the passing of time alone.

But you'd grown tired of being strong.

Strong for yourself, strong for you both. You craved the warmth of his rough palm, desperate to intertwine your fingers in his and replace the fluorescence with the nothingness of your eyelids.

You wanted to take. Take, take, take. Take every ounce of strength he could give you. But he wasn't here, and that had to be okay because Joel was hurting too.

You'd been lucky enough to have never known grief. Never felt its empty sting in the middle of the day, in the queue for lunch or on the drive home from work. But can you grieve something your fingers never touched? Something that had only ever been a far-off thought, that had maybe never even existed inside of you.

Was it a reflection on you?

On your capability as a mother, a woman?

Had nature deemed you unworthy since birth?

Were the worms and the flies laughing at you each time you'd uttered the words when I have children one day?

After the seemingly psychological torture of waiting, the appointment was over in minutes. It's not the news we were hoping for. The doctor had said. If you and your partner need support going forward...

The brochures she had slid across the table fell to your feet as you mindlessly drove yourself home, relying solely on muscle memory to bring you to the embrace of your front door.

There were no tears left. Everything inside of you was empty; barren. You threw your keys into the dish and softly closed the door behind you. The stillness of the house was suffocating.

Your shoulders dropped and muscles relaxed at the sight of the photograph of you, Sarah, and Ellie hanging on the wall opposite the front door. Sarah had lovingly adorned the picture with the words Joel's girls glued on in cut-out letters from your old Vogue magazines.

You loved Sarah and Ellie as your own; it would've killed you should Joel think otherwise. They were as much your baby girls as they were his, despite having not been babies for the better part of five years.

But you saw the depravity in Joel's eyes each time he edged further inside of you. The need, the want, for a creation of your own. And there was something almost feral inside of you, too. A part of you that only Joel had managed to tease out and bring into the ugly light of day. You wanted to watch yourself swell and grow with the proof of his love. You craved the shrill of a new beginning illuminated under fluorescent lights that you would gratefully embrace if it meant you could fall in love at first sight with a life you had created with Joel.

Even though Joel could hardly bend down to tie his shoes without hissing through his teeth these days, you knew none of that would matter if it was a product of your adoration for one another he was one day scooping up in his arms.

Although the two of you had been trying your hand at a sober October, you haphazardly fished around the kitchen drawer for a corkscrew, plunging it into a cheap bottle of red.

As you took your first sip, the sound of a key turning in the door made your stomach flip.

"Sweetheart?"

"In here." You called, tapping your nails on the body of the glass.

He filled the doorframe effortlessly. After all this time, he still managed to give you butterflies, leaving you squirming against the counter like you hadn't been victim of those brown eyes for almost a decade.

"Take it we're not celebrating?" He said, nodding toward the glass in your hand.

"Define celebrating. At least I won't need a fucking IUD anymore." You tipped your glass in the air and took a gulp. "An inhospitable environment."

"What's that?" His eyebrows furrowed together as he made his way closer to you.

"That's what the leaflet the doctor gave me says. I've got all the right pieces, my body just won't fucking do the one thing it's meant to do."

"Don't say that, sweetheart. You know it ain't like that..."

"Well, what is it like, Joel? What's left of me to love? How can you look at me and be satisfied that I'm the one you love? Everything about me is so fucking difficult. I want to be perfect for you. I want to give you everything you deserve, and it kills me that I can't. Because you've given me more than I deserve."

And then all at once, the tears came. He caught you in his arms before you buckled under the weight of your pain, holding you upright as you soaked his work t-shirt with your sobs. He smelt of asphalt and fresh October air.

"That what you really think?" He asked, murmuring into your hair while his fingers traced circles on your back. "Think you're difficult to love? Loving you has been the easiest damn decision I ever made."

"Then why weren't you there today? I needed you."

Smoothing down your hair, he pulled himself back so that you were facing one another. His eyes were red and glassy.

"I'm a coward, sweetheart." You scrunched your face in response, watching as a sad smile spread across his face. "I ain't as strong as you are."

"What's that supposed to mean?" You couldn't help the bite in your tone.

"Was scared to hear the truth. Would've felt so final comin' from the doctor."

Blood rushed to your head.

"So what, because my womb's the issue you let me go alone? Is this my penance or something?" You scoffed, pushing him away from you.

Joel called your name as you stormed up the stairs, wiping away your tears with your sleeve.

"You have children, Joel. There will be biological remnants of you living on in this world after you're worm food. I love those girls, and in every possible way, they are mine as much as they are yours. But I'm never going to have what you do; the privilege of looking into someone's eyes and seeing everyone who came before me. So don't give me that self-pitying bullshit disguised as admiration for my bravery." You sniffed, wanting to sound stronger but crumbling with each word.

Turning to lock yourself in the bathroom, his large hand wrapped around your arm. An old man may he be, Joel always managed to chase you down in moments you wanted to be as far away from him as possible.

Any attempt to shrug him off was pointless, and the warmth of his skin that you had craved all day radiating through your sleeve could've melted you there and then. You knew you were both scared and showing it in stupid, different ways, but you were adamant on holding your own for just a while longer.

"We're gonna get through this, baby. I ain't got the answers right now, and you know I sure as hell don't know what to say at the best of times. All I know is that I love you, and I'm so sorry for letting my fear get the better of me."

Your head found refuge in the crook of his shoulder once more, and you let the warmth of his body engulf you.

Truly, there was nothing he could say. You weren't even sure what you needed him to say.

That night, you could feel the fear dancing with grief between your bodies as you held one another in the dark. Joel may have been a father before, but neither of you had experienced this. And you knew it would be okay.

As long as you could feel his arm draped across your chest in the darkness of the night, you knew it would be okay.