#……. my feet would grow but the Shoe Is Not | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

lowkeyren · 5 months ago

Text

—childhood sweetheart!

in which : as kids, you gave him a lollipop to thank him for his help, though you had no idea your kind gesture would spark a blossoming friendship —that would soon evolve into something far sweeter than candy.

pairing : alhaitham x gn!reader

wc 3.6k, childhood friends to (implied) lovers, one bittersweet scene but it's 99% tooth rotting fluff, kaveh n sumeru gang cameo!!, art by @/anno_meiji on x. reblogs r much appreciated!!!

@tragedy-of-commons @iceunhie fellow pissoners that told me to @ them + special thanks to beloved @synqiri for giving me ideas when i wrote this, salutations.

the house of daena was quiet, the air thick with the comforting scent of old books and polished wood; soft chatters among akademiya students drifted through the air, a gentle hum that mingled with the rustling of pages as scholars immersed themselves in their studies.

at a corner, you sat cross-legged, surrounded by volumes of scholarly tomes. yet, the real challenge before you wasn’t the big words or thick pages —but a far more irritating one: your shoelaces.

no matter how many times you tried, the laces refused to cooperate. they twisted and knotted themselves in ways that made you feel as if they had a mind of their own. you tugged at them over and over again, your small hands growing clumsy with frustration, making your struggle feel even more monumental.

you let out a small, exasperated sigh, your cheeks growing warm with the mounting irritation. who lets a five-year-old wear shoes with laces anyway?

a few feet away, sitting at a low table, was a boy a few years older than you, absorbed in a thick book that looked far too advanced for his age; the dense text and intricate diagrams didn’t seem to faze him at all. his expression remained one of calm detachment, his eyes moving over the pages meticulously. though even amidst his immersion in the book's complex diagrams and equations, your struggle still drew his attention.

with a sigh that sounded more out of obligation than concern, he set his book aside with precise care and approached you with a smooth, deliberate stride. his expression remained neutral, his eyes barely meeting yours as he knelt beside you.

“you’re having trouble with your laces,” he remarked, his tone even and matter-of-fact.

you looked up and nodded at the boy, relief evident in your eyes. “can you help me?” you asked, your voice wavering slightly with embarrassment.

without a word, he reached for your laces. you watched as he deftly untangled the mess you’d created, his movements precise and unhurried. with a few twists and loops, he had the laces neatly tied in no time. “there,” he said, standing up and brushing his hands off.

“thank you for helping me... um—”

“alhaitham,” the boy, who you now knew as alhaitham, spoke in a calm voice.

you smiled in return, relieved. “thank you, alhaitham.”

“it was nothing. i’m glad i could assist.” he said before glancing down at your shoelaces again, his tone as impersonal as ever.

you reached into your pocket and pulled out a small, brightly wrapped lollipop, its cheerful wrapping seemed almost too vibrant for his reserved demeanour. nevertheless, you held it out to him, “i want to give you this,” you said earnestly. “as a small token of my appreciation!”

he glanced at the lollipop, then back at you. you simply tilted your head in response. after a brief moment, he accepted it with a slight nod. “thanks,” he said simply before pocketing the sweet.

you smiled, “i’m [name], by the way.”

“i’ll remember that,” he replied, his tone softening slightly.

with that, you gathered your books, carefully stacking them in your arms as you rose to your feet. “i need to go now. see you around, alhaitham!” you grinned and gave a small wave before turning to leave, your footsteps growing faint as you walked away.

and though little-you didn’t know it at the time, that small act of kindness, wrapped in bright paper, would linger in his memory for years to come.

years passed. by now, it was clear that alhaitham was a prodigy, the sharpest of minds among those his age —a teenager admired by many, regardless of age. yet, such exceptional talent often attracts a level of jealousy that goes beyond mere admiration.

however, much like his aloof demeanour, he remained indifferent to the opinions and whispers of displeasure of others, even now, as he stood surrounded by students, their voices dripping with sarcasm and disdain.

"so, alhaitham," one of them jeered, "being a genius must be lonely, huh? too smart to have any real friends?" the others snickered along, clearly revelling in his deliberate silence. they envied the recognition and success he had achieved —things they could only dream of, and that envy fueled their petty desire to bring him down, even if only for a fleeting moment.

enough was enough.

“hey, give it a rest,” you interjected, your tone dripping with sarcasm. “oh, wait —it’s not like you have anything better to do than make fun of someone who’s actually achieved something, right?”

the laughter from the group began to die down as they turned their attention to you, the tension in the air thickening.

you tilted your head in feigned curiosity. “or is it the only thing you’re good at?”

the student’s face twisted into a scowl, clearly caught off guard by your retort. after a moment of fumbling for words, he muttered defensively, “whatever. like you’re so perfect yourself.”

you crossed your arms and raised an eyebrow. “seriously? that’s the best you’ve got?”

you met their gazes with a defiant smirk, enjoying the way their bravado faltered under your words. “it’s one thing to have nothing between those ears of yours, but there’s no need to be a jerk about it.”

they hesitated for a moment, stung by your remarks and clearly feeling their egos take a hit, they found themselves at a loss for words. finally, one of them muttered something under his breath before they all turned and slunk away, embarrassed.

as the last of their footsteps faded, you turned back to alhaitham, who was watching you with a slightly raised eyebrow. "you didn’t have to do that," he murmured. you shrugged, offering him a wry smile. "i know. but i wanted to.”

“besides, someone has to keep those idiots in check."

alhaitham regarded you for a moment longer before the corner of his mouth twitched ever so slightly. "thank you.” you caught the subtle shift in his expression, the faintest hint of a smile playing on his lips. it was rare to see him react this way, and it made your small victory feel all the more rewarding.

you couldn’t help but grin.

“—you smiled!” giggling, you leaned in closer to him, as if sharing a secret. “i didn’t think i’d ever see that day.”

“no, i did not.” his expression snapped back to its usual deadpan, as if his momentary lapse had never happened.

“no? well, then you should smile more.” you slid into the chair next to him,

“why?”

you pulled out your book and opened it to the page marked by your bookmark. “you look good when you smile,” you said casually, your eyes still focused on the material in front of you as you unwrapped a candy and chewed on it, savouring the sweet taste.

alhaitham didn’t respond immediately, his gaze fixed intently on the pages in front of him. though when he briefly turned his head to the side, his stoic expression faltered.

a faint smile tugged at the edges of his lips; he angled the book slightly higher, hiding his expression from view, while the subtle curve of his lips remained just barely visible.

it was a fleeting moment —nearly imperceptible, but unmistakably there.

“happy birthday, [name]!”

you clink your glass with dehya’s, the sound of the toast ringing out amidst the lively chatter. she grins and downs her drink in one swift motion, her laughter echoing as the others join in, raising their glasses to you.

nilou approaches you with a soft smile, her eyes sparkling with excitement. “i have something for you,” she says, holding out a small, intricately wrapped box. you open it to find a delicate bracelet nestled inside.

“i hope today brings you as much joy as you bring to us.” you smile and thank her as she helps you fasten the bracelet around your wrist.

you glance over to where alhaitham is sitting, only to find him already looking at you; he gives you a slight nod before burying his face back into his book. though you notice that alhaitham's usual noise-cancelling headphones are conspicuously absent, as if choosing to be fully present, especially when you're near.

suddenly, you feel a tap on your shoulder. when you turn around, you’re greeted with kaveh’s unmistakable grin, “surprise!” he exclaims with a flourish, his voice brimming with infectious enthusiasm. he extends a beautifully hand-carved, ornate wooden box to you, “go on, open it!” he urges, barely containing his excitement.

with a nod, you carefully lift the lid, revealing the contents inside. the box is lined with rich velvet, and nestled within is a tiny, intricately designed music box and a set of miniature sculptures —as expected, his craftsmanship is nothing short of impeccable. you thank him graciously and carefully set the box down on the table beside tighnari’s gift.

as the evening unfolds, you notice alhaitham occasionally glancing up from his book, his gaze fixing on you, each glance subtly drawing your attention. his eyes, typically so absorbed in the pages, now linger on you with a soft intensity that speaks volumes.

it’s obvious that the night has come to an end when you glance to your side and can’t help but chuckle at the sight of kaveh, completely blackout drunk and slumped over the couch.

“don’t worry, we’ll handle him,” cyno heads for the door after lifting kaveh over his shoulder with ease; he shares a knowing glance with tighnari. “enjoy the rest of your night!” with a final wave, they disappear out the door, leaving you and alhaitham alone in the cozy tranquillity of your home.

“looks like it’s just us now,” you say, sinking onto the sofa beside him and stifling a yawn, the night clearly taking a toll on you.

“indeed,” alhaitham replies, his gaze softening as he looks over at you. he reaches behind him and holds his hand out towards you with his fist closed.

“here, a reward for your hard work,” he opens his palm to reveal a small piece of your favourite candy resting on it. “happy birthday, [name].”

the light from the candles flickers softly, casting a warm glow that dances across the room. it bathes the space in a gentle radiance, highlighting the perfect angles of his face and making him look all the more handsome.

alhaitham had never been a big fan of sweets. to him, they were a trivial indulgence, neither particularly enticing nor off-putting.

but for you, he might learn to like it more.

after all, if all it takes is a piece of candy to see your smile —sweeter than any treat known to mankind, then maybe there's a reason to enjoy them after all.

as you begin to nod off, he gently strokes your hair and carefully adjusts your position, guiding your head to rest on his chest.

with a soft sigh, he blows out the candles.

perhaps rationality has its limits when it comes to matters of the heart, for he can’t help but feel that love, in all its irrationality, defies the logic he clings to so fiercely. “love” didn’t follow the neat, predictable patterns of reason —it was wild, unpredictable, and utterly beyond his control.

yet, despite its chaos, or perhaps because of it, he was okay with it —he was okay with you.

“is it necessary for you to leave?”

“sorry haitham, it's for my research. but i’ll be gone for just a few years, and we'll cross paths again before you know it.”

just a few.. years? you must’ve really underestimated how long that’ll feel. he lets out a disapproving huff, his brows knitting together. “...where will you be going?”

“fontaine,” you replied, “the leylines there hold the key to my research, and it’s an opportunity i can’t pass up.” you hesitate for a moment before adding softly, “i wish you could come along… but with your duties as the acting grand sage, i understand that it’s not possible.”

“i suppose you’ve already made up your mind.”

you nodded, trying to muster a reassuring smile. “i have. but i’ll make sure to write whenever i can!” he studies your face for a long moment, as if committing every detail to memory, afraid he’ll forget the moment you turn your back to him.

“just... promise me you’ll take care of yourself,” he finally said, his tone more tender compared to a moment ago. “and don’t lose yourself in your research.”

you reach out, giving his hand a gentle squeeze. “i promise, haitham.” you open his palm and place a small candy in the centre before closing his fingers around it. “something to remember me by,” you add, your voice barely above a whisper as you look up at him.

his eyes trail your figure, his hands clutching the candy tightly, the wrapping paper crinkling in his fist as you start to walk away. midway, you pause, turning around to look at him once more, you flash him a warm smile before waving goodbye.

this time, unlike the first time you met, he returns the gesture with a wave of his own.

it’s unusual, uncharacteristic for alhaitham to lose his focus so easily.

the subtle crease in his brow —a dead giveaway to anyone who knew him well; and being his roommate, kaveh noticed it first.

leaning against the table, he glanced at the open book, then back at alhaitham. "you know, that page won’t read itself," he quipped, a playful smirk tugging at the corner of his lips.

alhaitham didn’t bother looking up, his finger idly tracing the edge of the page. "i’m well aware." after a moment, he finally turned the page with a slight frown, his mind clearly not on the book.

cyno, sitting across from him, folded his arms and leaned back in his seat. "you’ve been staring at that same paragraph for nearly an hour.” he remarks, his tone laced with amusement. tighnari raises his eyebrows, lightly swirling the drink in his cup, “it’s rare to see you this distracted. must be something—or someone—truly exceptional."

alhaitham finally looks up, meeting their gazes with a flat expression, “you all certainly have a lot of free time," he remarked dryly.

cyno shrugs, shaking his head. "you’re just making it too easy, alhaitham."

tighnari, however, leans forward slightly, his gaze softening with genuine concern despite the playful edge in his voice just a minute ago. “but seriously,” he adds, “it’s perfectly fine to admit you miss [name]. we all do, after all, it has been a year.”

alhaitham sighs heavily, closing the book with a soft thud. “i’m perfectly fine."

"sure you are," kaveh drawls, his tone dripping with sarcasm. "it’s not like you’ve been more irritable than usual —or, i don’t know, distracted by a certain someone who’s not here."

for once, alhaitham doesn’t offer a retort. instead, he quietly unwraps a candy and slips it into his mouth, letting its sweet taste wash over him.

but that is all the answer they need.

unbothered from the looks he receives from his friends, he signals the manager over, “boss, a box of macaroons to go, please.”

later that night, alhaitham sits in his room —he absently reaches for the box of macaroons but his hand lands on the bright candy wrapper crumpled on the table, though it seems out of place amidst the quiet room, it remains a perfect, poignant reminder of you, in his heart.

the notion of your sweetness is tantalising, one that mingles with the lingering taste of the macaroons on his palate, making him yearn for the real experience, to discover if you, too, could leave such a lasting impression.

—and truth to be told, i really missed you too. there's so much more i want to share with you, so many things i’ve seen and felt that only you would truly understand. but lucky for us, i’ll be at l'encre des marées in the court of fontaine, for the next few days! haitham, come visit me, will you?

alhaitham’s footsteps echo softly against the cobblestone street as he approaches the address you gave him.

a bookstore, huh. it seems fitting enough.

he folds your letter and slips it into the pocket of his coat; the gentle chime of the bell above the door announces his arrival. the warm, ambient light of the store envelops him —a voice rings out, welcoming him, but he pays it no mind.

he moves silently between the tall bookshelves, his gaze sweeping over the interior, searching for you within the labyrinth of aisles. though with no sign of you in sight, a faint crease forms between his brows, a subtle yet telling sign of his disappointment.

he comes to a stop in front of one of the shelves, the familiar scent of paper and ink wafting around him. might as well get something, he thinks. his hand hovers over the spines, his fingers brushing lightly against them; the choice is almost arbitrary, driven more by habit than intent.

the title barely registers in his mind as he turns away from the shelf. with the book in hand, he makes his way towards the counter. he places the book down with a soft thud, and lets his mind drift to you —your latest letter, the anticipation of seeing you here, the subtle disappointment of your absence; he imagines the sound of your voice, the way you might have greeted him had you been there, the little gestures that are make you, so distinctly, you.

the cashier’s voice pulls him back to the present. “thank you for your patronage!” the words are accompanied by the soft rustling of paper as the bag is handed over to him. he reaches out to take it, but just as he’s about to withdraw his hand, something else is pressed into his palm —a small lollipop.

he blinks, momentarily caught off guard. what? is this a… fontaine custom? he turns the lollipop over in his hand, the cashier’s voice continues, cheerful and slightly sing-song. “don’t forget to visit us again—”

or is he losing his mind? because the sound of your voice, so clear and familiar, “—alhaitham.” echoes his name as if you were standing right infront of him.

his eyes snap up, eyes widening ever so slightly as he looks at the cashier. and there you are, behind the counter, your gaze meeting his with a familiar warmth. he finds himself staring at you, the very person he had been hoping to see; you smile at him, the same smile he had imagined countless times... and his heart still skips a beat.

“life here in fontaine has been quite a journey.” you stroll side by side, alhaitham listens quietly, absorbing every detail as you recount your journey. your research, originally projected to take more time, has progressed exceptionally well; the results are promising, and you’re now ahead of schedule, which means that you’ll be back in sumeru in less than a week’s time (much to his pleasure).

as you both turn a corner, you suddenly stop and turn to face him. “i’ve been doing all the talking so far,” you smile up at him, “what about you?”

“nothing much, things have been…” he begins, pausing as he searches for the right words. he glances around, just as street lamps flicker to life before continuing, “...rather routine.”

(he’s not lying, no, never to you. “routine” as in routinely thinking about you nonstop —yes, that’s the underlying meaning, though his outward implication is quite… mundane.)

though what you didn’t quite expect next was for alhaitham to extend his hand towards you, his pinky raised in a gesture like an earnest request for a pinky promise. dumbfounded, you chuckle softly, “what’s this for?”

without waiting for an answer, you decide to indulge him, linking your pinky with his. as your thumbs briefly touch, you catch the look in his eyes —serious, yet with a softness that makes your heart skip. “a promise that i’ll be by your side as long as sugar tastes sweet,” he says, his voice low and sincere.

he gently turns his hand downward, his fingers sliding smoothly between yours, interlocking them in a firm yet tender grip. slowly, he lifts your hand to his lips, pressing a soft, lingering kiss to the back of it. “so, come back with me, [name].”

his thumb continues to trace lazy circles on your skin, drawing you closer. leaning in, his breath is warm against your cheek, the space between you vanishes as he tilts his head slightly, his lips hovering just a breath away from yours, close enough that you can almost taste the promise in his words.

his eyes flicker down to your lips, then back up. you catch his gaze and a small smile starts to form, “you don’t have to ask me twice.”

your eyes flutter shut as his lips brush softly against yours —and he tastes the first bite of a sun-warmed strawberry, a burst of sweetness that lingers on his lips, leaving him craving more. utterly intoxicating, like the scent of honey carried on a warm breeze, filling the air with a fragrance that makes him close his eyes and breathe deeply, savouring the moment.

you taste just like summer —vivid, unforgettable, and leaving him yearning for those endless days and nights, where his world is alive with sparking memories he clings to as the seasons change; so much so that even when autumn's chill begins to settle, he can't help but reach out for the warmth that only your presence can bring.

but most importantly,

you taste unbelievably sweet.

good question google

MASTERLIST.

#✧renwrites!#—stellaronhvnters.#alhaitham x reader #al haitam x reader #alhaitham x you #al haitham x you #alhaitham x y/n #alhaitham fluff #genshin x reader #genshin fanfic #genshin impact x reader #genshin x you #genshin impact x you #genshin x y/n #alhaitham genshin #genshin imagines #genshin fluff #genshin impact #alhaitham

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twentyfivemiceinatrenchcoat · 8 months ago

Text

it’s downright pouring outside.

suguru rests on the living room couch, cooped up in a bundle of soft blankets, watching droplets ricochet against the windows. heavy, sharp, like the rain is trying to break into your apartment — a steady pitter patter that makes him feel at ease.

it’s cozy, he thinks. being indoors, safe and warm and dry, while the outside world is blanketed by gray. wearing baggy clothes, a pair of reading glasses, his hair tied up into a loose bun; slender fingers turning the pages of the new novel you gave him.

he thinks of you, and finds himself frowning.

suguru got home just before storm clouds gathered in the sky — but as far as he knows, you’re still outside. he’s memorized your comings and goings, what time you usually return home, the paths you tend to favour. as any attentive roommate should.

so he’s a little worried. usually, you’d be home by now. and you still haven’t replied to his messages.

tentatively, he reaches for the warm cup of tea on the coffee table, bringing the ceramic to his lips. sipping from the green, honeyed brew, letting the scent soothe his growing nerves. he shouldn’t be too high-maintenance; you’re a perfectly capable adult. if he nags at you all the time, you’ll just be weirded out. and the last thing he wants is to scare you away.

so it’s fine. you’re fine, he’s sure. there’s no need for him to freak out over your whereabouts. he needs to maintain his cool, calm exterior.

— suddenly, the click of a lock being turned.

suguru’s head whips towards the front door. a moment passes, and then he’s stumbling to his feet, untangling himself from the heap of blankets he’s burrowed into — gently setting the cup back on the table, fixing his hair, making sure he’s presentable — before making his way towards the hall.

and there you are. clumsily dragging the door open, stumbling inside, keys jingling as you step over the threshold; absolutely soaked. just as he feared.

”hey…”

you meet his gaze. panting softly, cheeks a little flushed, wet locks of hair sticking to your forehead and neck. disheveled, letting out a sheepish little laugh — gosh, why do you have to be so cute? — leaning down to pull your shoes off. you’re wearing a thin, white shirt. entirely drenched.

suguru looks away, a heat sticking to his cheeks.

”hey,” you greet, a little out of breath. tossing your shoes away, tugging absently at your collar. ”god. i feel like a drowned rat.”

at that, he lets a little chuckle slip. shaking his head, taking a step back — careful not to let his gaze stray towards the soaked fabric of your clothing. ”why didn’t you call me? i would have picked you up.”

”well, i thought about it,” you hum, walking right past him, ”but i figured you’d still be at work.”

suguru frowns, ever so slightly, discontentment in his eyes. ”… they let me go early today. but you should have texted me, either way. what if you get sick?”

”i’ll be fineeee,” you slip on a grin, turning back to face him. ”just need a quick shower. don’t worry, okay?”

he narrows his eyes, playfully, enjoying the way your eyes crinkle in response. then he exhales, hands on his hips. feigning exasperation.

”… fine, fine. need me to go get you a clean shirt?”

”ah. well...” you let out a wince, earning a tilt of his head. ”i haven’t done my laundry, in like… a week.”

a moment passes. suguru’s lips curl up, an exasperated exhale slipping from his lips. he gazes at you, ever so fondly, raising a brow. ”i asked you if you needed me to wash anything for you.”

”i know, but…” you scratch at the back of your neck, letting out a breathy sigh. ”i don’t want you to pull all my weight. we both live here.” now there’s a pretty little pout on your lips. it makes suguru want to run his thumb over the sensitive skin, soothe it away.

but he only clears his throat.

”i don’t mind,” he answers, truthfully. ”i like doing laundry. you know that.”

”… still.”

his smile only grows, at your quiet mumble, something soft blooming in his eyes. he takes a step forward. ”we’ll see about laundry later. in the meantime… want to wear one of my shirts?”

the words have left his lips before he can think them through — maybe a little too eager. silently, he curses himself for being so forward. but you raise your head, meeting his amber eyes, blinking so sheepishly that he thinks he’d give you just about anything you could ask for.

”… is that okay?”

”more than okay,” he reassures you, a smile on his face. ”i’ll get you something comfy.”

you quiet down, for a moment. still pulling at the collar of your shirt, making sure the thin fabric doesn’t stick to your soaked skin. ”… alright,” you exhale. ”that’d be great, then.”

a hum buzzes in his throat. suguru walks past you, towards the hallway leading up to his room, ruffling your wet hair in passing. his heavy palm on your head, a perfect fit. smiling to himself.

”got it. one second, okay?”

behind him, you nod — but he can’t see it. walking into his room, rummaging through his closet, trying not to lose his mind at the idea of you wearing one of his oversized shirts. maybe a pair of sweatpants, maybe a tank top… he gulps at the thought. heartbeat accelerating, a jittery feeling in his throat.

he settles on a big, comfortable hoodie. bundling it up in his arms, before making his way back to where you’re still standing, still soaked, shivering a little.

”here,” he hums, passing the bundle of soft fabric into your awaiting arms. you nuzzle into the pile, already looking comforted; warming his heart down to the marrow. he hopes you like the cologne he picked out, earthy and deep. a hint of cinnamon. ”now go take your shower, hm?”

”mm. thank you.” you give him a smile, cheeks still damp, a little flushed. ”you’re too nice to me.”

suguru resists the urge to frown. resists the urge to tell you that there’s no such thing, that you deserve every last drop of kindness he can wring out of his cramped-up heart. he knows he shouldn’t be too forward, but you’re making it difficult. you always make it so difficult.

(or maybe he’s just a weak, weak man.)

”oh, please,” he gives you a playful little roll of his eyes, sighing gravely. ”this is the bare minimum. we don’t want you catching a cold, do we?”

”we don’t,” you grin. ”i have a feeling you’d just end up feeding me soup all day.”

a chuckle flows from out his lips. he hopes it doesn’t come out as shaky as his heart feels, just at the thought — the idea of taking care of you like that. being allowed to tend to you, being trusted by you in that way. ”well, i am a chef. need to make sure i don’t get rusty, yeah?”

there it is, again. the crinkle of your eyes, that upturn of your lips, all things he finds himself constantly seeking — suguru exhales, somewhat in bliss. he might need to quit cigarettes for good, soon. it wouldn’t do for him to have more than one vice.

while you take your shower, your roommate lounges on the couch. or at least, he tries to — though his feet inevitably take him to your tiny kitchen, to the water cooker, to the cabinet with all his expensive tea bags. he picks out a nice, strong ginger brew. something to help boost your immune system. silently, drowsily, he pours water into a ceramic cup, stirs the slowly brewing tea with a honey-clad teaspoon. raindrops cascade against the window, and the faraway sound of thunder reaches his ears.

it’s cold outside, but warm and cozy in here. in the home you’ve made for yourselves. he’s really, really glad that he followed satoru’s advice — that he put out that advert, that the first person who reached out ended up being you. he’s happy to share a living space with you, these cozy leftover afternoons. he’s happy to have someone to brew tea for.

(what more could a man like him ask for?)

”um, suguru?”

he stiffens. ears perking up at the sound of your voice, that mellow little lilt — broken out of his syrupy stupor. after a moment, he turns around.

and his breath hitches in the back of his throat.

you’re standing there, right at the threshold separating the kitchen from the living room, hair a little damp from the shower — and you’re wearing his hoodie. it cascades down your frame, the hem of it ending right above your knees, sleeves rolled up to reveal your hands. that hoodie is baggy even on him, but you’re just drowning in the fabric. his heart feels like it’s about to burst, pupils wide as saucers.

suguru lets out a shaky sigh.

”jesus…”

a series of blinks. you tilt your head, like a confused puppy, glancing up at him with a doe-eyed look. fuck, he wants to bundle you up in his arms. he wants you to fall asleep on his chest, wants to keep you there forever. god, who thinks stuff like that?

(he needs to get a grip, and fast. he can already feel his ears growing hotter.)

”it looks… kind of ridiculous, doesn’t it?” you mumble, sheepishly, clouded with what he thinks must be shyness. cute. ”this isn’t really my size…”

suguru lets out a breathy chuckle, shaking his head, raven locks swaying with the movement. ”i can see that. looks good on you, though.”

”… does it?” you let your arms fall slack, at your sides, the softened fabric swallowing your hands entirely. he can’t even see the tips of your fingers. oh, how his heart aches — it’s squeezing so tightly he fears his chest might cave in, but all he can do is nod.

he turns around, again, absently clearing his throat. clinking the teaspoon against the rim of your cup, stirring idly. ”is it comfortable?”

”mhm!”

a warm smile. ”good.”

silently, you scoot closer, taking your rightful place beside him. resting your elbows on the counter, watching his movements, the flick of his long fingers. one of his rings catches on the ceramic, a quiet clang.

”here,” he hums, pushing the cup towards you. when you look up, his eyes are crinkled at the edges, warm and sweet, a melting pair of honeycombs. ”drink up.”

a moment passes. ”… you really are too sweet for your own good, you know that?”

suguru grins. his heart blossoms a little more; petals sticking between the ridges of his ribs. it manifests as a delighted little chuckle, flowing out his throat.

”don’t thank me yet — there’s sushi for you in the fridge. they let us bring leftovers home again.”

”really? i can have some?”

suguru raises a brow. smiling, all the while. ”would i be offering otherwise?”

(you can have anything, he wants to say. i doubt i could say no. i’m a little weak, when it comes to you.

such embarrassing words.)

a heavy sigh escapes you, laced with relief. taking hold of the cup, raising it to your lips, sipping slowly. ”god, you’re the best. i’m starving.”

”haha… better eat, then, yeah?”

nod, nod. you give him another one of those giddy grins, putting your cup down, taking a step back. suguru can’t help but turn his head, to catch a glimpse of you — how cozy you look, waddling around in that big hoodie, hair a little tousled. humming softly to yourself, tapping the tips of your fingers against the handle of the fridge. it mashes well with the endless pitter patter against the windowpane. a purr of thunder echoes in the distance, and suguru feels at peace. hyacinths line the windowsill, the crinkle of a plastic container being rustled rings out across the room. he watches, listens, observes. wallowing in the feeling.

domesticity.

with a breathy, blissed-out exhale, his eyes fall shut. smile dripping with sweetness, barely contained. wishing on every single droplet that you’ll stick around a little longer than your lease allows.

”here,” you grin, stepping into his line of vision. handing him a plate full of sushi, all his favorite pieces. ”you eat up, too.”

suguru smiles.

”what would i do without you?”

(that’s a bridge he’ll worry about crossing another day.

for now, this is more than enough.)

#geto x reader #geto x you #geto x y/n #suguru geto x reader #geto suguru x reader #geto suguru x you #geto suguru x y/n #geto fluff #jjk fluff #jjk x reader #jjk x you #jjk x y/n

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connorsui · 4 months ago

Text

Luke & Kieran/ Sylus x wife! Reader || Imagine ||

"One last game!"

Note: not as polished as I would like but I did always imagined how these two would be like around their boss kid? -

The evening was coming to a close, and the house, bathed in a soft, warm glow, looked like it had been hit by a miniature hurricane. Pink toys—plushies, blocks, glittery shoes—were scattered haphazardly across the living room floor, the remnants of what had once been an innocent evening of fun. Now, the peaceful warmth of the home had been overtaken by a growing sense of chaos as frantic footsteps reverberated through the hallways.

Luke and Kieran were in full-blown panic mode, tearing through the house. They tossed pillows, peeked under tables, and flung open every door, desperately searching for a toddler who had seemingly vanished without a trace.

“You can trust us with the kid, we said! Nothing bad will happen, we said!” Kieran muttered bitterly, lifting a cushion and glancing under the couch. “And now look! Thirty minutes of searching, and she’s gone! GONE!” His voice cracked as he threw the cushion across the room in frustration.

Luke, visibly rattled but trying to maintain some semblance of calm, walked over to Kieran. “Come on, she couldn’t have gotten that far, right? I mean, her legs are tiny! Point A to point B takes her forever.”

Kieran, still crouched on the floor, slowly rose and stared at Luke, incredulous. “Yeah, and you remember how fast she moved when she took Mephisto on that ‘plane ride’ with her plushies? Thought the bird was too slow to fly?”

Luke folded his arms, trying to look nonchalant but clearly feeling the pressure. “Okay, yeah. And your point?”

“My point is... the kid can run.”

“Oh, that’s just perfect,” Luke groaned dramatically, flopping onto the floor in complete defeat. “None of this would’ve happened if someone hadn’t suggested one ‘finaaaal’ game with the boss’s kid. One minute she’s here, and the next—POOF! Gone. With a trail of glitter.”

Kieran stared at Luke in disbelief. Even though they were both wearing masks, Luke could feel the heat of Kieran’s glare. “Wait—are you seriously blaming me for this?”

“Who else?”

Kieran threw his hands up. “Who else? Uh, who was it that thought party cans were a great ‘welcome back’ surprise for the boss and his wife, huh?”

“Well, it was either that or hide-and-seek, and you—”

Before Luke could finish his retort, they both froze. A burst of giggles echoed from upstairs, followed by the unmistakable click of a door locking. They stared at each other, wide-eyed.

“How… how did she get upstairs!?” Luke whispered in disbelief, his voice shaky.

Without a word, they both bolted toward the staircase, skidding to a halt at the sight of the baby gate, now hanging loosely by its hinges. It was tilted precariously, as if it had been outwitted by the most cunning toddler alive.

“Oh, she’s smart—” Luke began, but Kieran cut him off with a sharp smack to the back of his head.

“Focus!” Kieran growled, stepping forward. “Alright, kiddo, time to come out now!” His voice was firm but coaxing. But instead of the sound of obedient little feet, they were met with more giggling, playful and distant, echoing through the upstairs hallway.

Luke exchanged a glance with Kieran, who rolled his eyes as they both cautiously climbed the stairs. “This is going to be bad,” Luke muttered under his breath.

The upstairs hallway was dimly lit, the shadows stretching along the walls. Suddenly, Sylus' daughter peeked her head around the corner, her bright red eyes wide with mischief. The second she spotted them, she squealed with delight and darted away, disappearing around the bend.

“Oh, come on!” Kieran groaned, as they raced after her, rounding the corner just in time to see the door to the boss’s office wide open.

“There’s no way she’s in there...” Luke whispered, shaking his head in disbelief.

“How did she even get in here?” Kieran asked, just as confused.

They entered the office cautiously, careful not to disturb anything. The room was pristine, neatly organized—until they noticed a pair of tiny feet peeking out from beneath the desk. And there it was again: that unmistakable giggle.

Kieran’s eyes lit up with an idea. He motioned for Luke to come closer. “Alright, here’s the plan: you go left, I’ll take the right. We jump out, and give her a little scare.”

Luke grinned. “Perfect.”

They positioned themselves on either side of the desk, ready to strike. But before they could even make their move, Sylus' daughter popped out from beneath the desk, a wide grin plastered across her face.

“Surprise!” she shrieked, spraying them both with party cans they had been saving for later. Neon foam shot out, covering Luke and Kieran in a sticky mess of silly string as the toddler collapsed into giggles.

“Surprise! Surprise! I win! I win!” she chanted, hopping up and down with glee as she sprayed them again.

Luke, now covered head to toe in foam, looked over at Kieran, both of them utterly defeated, but unable to suppress a smile. Her excitement was contagious.

“Alright, that’s enough, kiddo,” Luke laughed, scooping her up as she squealed, still waving the can.

Kieran quickly snatched the can from her, shaking his head with a playful smirk. “Yeah, yeah. You win.”

Setting her down, they both attempted to question her about her little escapade, but all she did was giggle uncontrollably, covering her face with her tiny hands. “I didnt leeeaaveee I played!, I played and won” she squealed between bursts of laughter.

Before they could question her even further, the sound of footsteps behind them made them freeze. They slowly turned, only to see You and Sylus standing in the doorway, watching the scene unfold with amused expressions.

Silly string wasn’t just on Luke and Kieran—it was everywhere. The desk, the chair, the floor—nothing had escaped the carnage.

You pressed your hand to your mouth, trying to hide the laughter. “I - I ...take it you all had a great time?”

Luke and Kieran stood in stunned silence, caught red-handed in the chaos, while Sylus' daughter grinned proudly.

“Mommy! Mommy!” she cried, running towards you with open arms. “We had so much fun today! Mommy, look!”

You bent down, scooping her up with a warm smile, planting a kiss on her cheek. “I can see that, sweetheart.”

As Luke and Kieran stood there, still sticky and covered in foam, they glanced over at Sylus, who crossed his arms, looking every bit the stern boss. His eyes flicked over the mess, then back at the two men, who stood awkwardly under his gaze.

“Uh... we tried our best,” Luke muttered weakly, scratching the back of his head. “She’s... uh, faster than she looks.”

Kieran nodded, backing him up. “Yeah, I mean, we had a plan! But she outsmarted us.”

You stifled another laugh, turning to Sylus. “Go easy on them. They did try, after all.”

Sylus’ expression softened, though the hint of a smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth. “No promises,” he muttered, before walking past them into the office to inspect the damage.

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entitled-fangirl · 6 months ago

Text

The Warden's fears.

Cregan Stark x wife!reader

Summary: the reader is unable to give Cregan a child, and he reveals why.

Warning: talks of sex, childbirth, death, crying, guilt, etc

A/n: I've never seen anyone do this concept, so I gave it a shot!

Masterlist

..............................................................

"My gods, what's the matter?"

Y/n sat on the foot on their bed, her eyes puffy and red with tears. She sniffled and wiped her eyes, "I didn't hear you enter, husband."

Cregan let out a light scoff, hating her answer. She only responded coldly when something greatly bothered her. He shrugged off his cloak, throwing it to the side, "That is not an answer."

She wiped her face again and her shaky voice broke, "What am I doing wrong?"

He tilted his head, "Doing wrong? My girl, what are you talking about?"

"Eleven months, Cregan. Eleven months and still no child."

Oh gods.

Cregan felt his stomach drop to his feet.

"I… I didn't know you wanted a child so desperately, my love."

She looked up at him with a horrified face, "Why would I not?"

He let out a breath, cursing himself silently. He kneeled in front of her and took her hands in his. "We already have Rickon. He may not have come from your womb, but he is all I need, my love."

Y/n was Cregan's second wife, his first, Arra Norrey, dying in childbirth. Cregan was devastated at her death, but a few years later, the cold Warden's heart was warmed by Y/n, and they married soon after.

Rickon was a sweet boy, and Y/n was quick to step into a mother role for him when she married the boys's father. Now almost five, he was growing into his father's shoes more and more each day.

Which brought them to now.

"But my duty is to give you children."

He immediately shook his head. "No. No, nothing of the sort. I… I don't need more children."

She tilted her head in confusion, "You're the Warden. You… you need more children. I… I am to give you children, Cregan. And I can't."

"That's not true!" He argued.

"Then why is my womb still bare despite our devotion to it?"

Cregan's cheek flushed completely. "Do… Do you think I only bed you to fill you with my seed?"

"Well… not entirely."

He forced himself to take a breath. "I lie with you because I wish to. Because I love you."

"Will you still love me if my womb remains dry?"

Pain erupted behind his eyes.

How could she think that? That he'd leave her?

Because of his own doing, this was entirely his fault.

His grip on her hands tightened. "I… I must confess something to you, my love."

Her eyes flitted up to his, still puffy and red, but at least the tears had paused.

"I… I have kept myself from filling you with child."

"W…what?" She managed to whisper out.

"I did not know that you wished this so desperately. I am very sorry, my love. I did not mean this as a secret."

She sniffled but no words came from her lips as she waited for the entirety of his secret to be exposed.

"I have been drinking a tea from the maester on the nights I believe we'll lay together."

Her jaw went slack.

"I did not know you wanted a child so badly. That you think yourself only worthy to me if we have children."

She pushed him back as she stood, moving to leave.

But he was quick, standing and grabbing her wrist.

She spun, beginning to hit his chest as sobs wracked from her body, "HOW COULD YOU?" Hit. "YOU'VE LIED TO ME!" Hit. "AND YOU LET ME BELIEVE I WAS THE PROBLEM!" Hit. "How long would you have let me?" Hit. "I hate you!"

He intercepted her hand this time, his grip strong but not one of pain, "Listen to me." His voice was low, "Will you do this?"

She hiccuped lightly as she stared up at him. Finally, she nodded.

"I took the tea because…" He let out a soft sigh. "Arra died in childbirth. I had nightmares of it every night. Her cold body in my hands, switched for the warm one of my son."

His eyes watered but he continued, "The nightmares stopped when I met you. And when we wed… they returned. Only... they were different. Changed. It was you dying in childbirth."

Her eyes softened.

He never spoke of his first wife to her. He hated the reminder of what had happened.

"And so… I take the tea. To keep your womb bare because I.." His voice broke, "…I cannot live knowing I could make the same mistake twice."

"Why did you hide it?" She asked softly.

"It was not purposeful. I figured… you did not wish to see your husband in such a state. Or truly believed that I did not wish to bed you. Or have a child with you."

"But you don't."

"I do," he argued. "I want a child. But… I will not put you through the trials of the creation of one. So, we won't."

His hand trailed down to her stomach, tracing lightly, "To think of your swelling with my child, growing by the day, only to die once on the bed. I can't bear it."

She thought for a while of what to say. She wished she was mad at him. But how could such a burly man proclaim his fears only to have his wife mock him? She couldn't bring herself to.

"That was noble."

His head snapped up to look at her, "Was it?"

She nodded, "You care for me. You put your manhood aside to keep me safe."

He bit the inside of cheek, "I have."

"Thank you."

His eyebrows raised at her proclamation. "You're truly thanking me? When I should be begging your forgiveness?"

Her gaze softened and a hand came up to his cheek, "I do wish you'd have told me. But I cannot fault you for your fears. I'm suppose to ease them."

"How do you plan to do so?"

Her head tilted, "Have you taken the tea lately?"

He nodded.

"Then let us test it."

A fire lit behind his eyes, "Oh, we've tested it quite often, haven't we?"

A mischievous smile moved across her face, "We have."

His lips moved her hers, a mere brush. "Forgive me for making you feel unable to perform your duty," he whispered.

"What is my duty then, my lord?"

He smiled against her lips, "Being mine."

A laugh came from her, "I'll do my best then."

"Aye. You're already quite good at it."

........................................

@misswynters, @cosmosnkaz, @sithapprentice, @kaniromi, @lovemesomevesey, @its-jackie-bb, @callsignwidow, 8812-342, @nyxbranwenn, @thorins-queen-of-erebor, @kingdomzeldaquest,

#fanfiction #game of thrones x reader #house of the dragon fanfiction #cregan stark x reader #cregan stark x you #game of thrones fanfiction #game of thrones x y/n #game of thrones imagine #house of the dragon #cregan stark x y/n #cregan x reader #cregan stark imagine #cregan stark #cregan stark x female reader #cregan fanfiction #drew drools over cregan stark

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luveline · 6 months ago

Note

hotch’s daughter and him looking thru baby n childhood pics n realizing just how much they missed angst (her missing out on having a present father n him missing out on raising her)

Aaron’s winded when he sees you that morning. You’re smiling, in sweatpants and a hoodie with a bag on your shoulder that promises an overnight stay, but what hits hardest is the way you light up when he opens the front door. He sees you coming through the window and can’t wait for you to knock.

“Hey, honey, you’re early!” he says.

“I know,” you say, stopping just a paving stone away, “but I got this magic jigsaw for Jack that I thought he’d like. Once you complete it you can move it around and create a new jigsaw in the middle.” You smile. “You look happy. Good breakfast?”

“I’m happy to see you, that’s all.”

You cross that last step. “Thanks, dad.” You bite your bottom lip, ever so slightly bashful.

He literally couldn’t be happier. “Did you eat?”

Aaron brings you inside. Jack is already awake and eating his second breakfast in a meandering picking by the TV.

You love being a big sister. It’s all the more endearing. “Hey, babe. What are you upto?” you ask.

Jack whirls and sends a couple of grapes flying. “Oh my gosh yes!” he says, to your laughter and Aaron’s disbelief. He races across the rug in a blur of blue pyjamas to wrap himself around your thighs, face pressed to your hip. “You’re here!”

“We said Saturday sleepover, right?”

You get down on your knees to hug him. Your arms around his back, your face to his, you aren’t as rough as you could be —how do sisters hug their brothers? Aaron doesn’t know. But you rub his back in a gentle up and down and lower your voice to say hello. “Hi, Jack. You’re happy to see me?”

“I’m so happy.”

“Me too, I’m so happy. I brought you something.”

“A present?” Jack asks, leaning out of your arms.

“Not really, it’s for me and you, but I brought you cookies too.”

“Dad,” Jack says, “can we have some?”

Aaron holds up a finger. One cookie is enough sugar for the morning. “We can have a couple more after dinner tonight, okay?”

You take the cookies from your bag, a huge box of palm-sized cookies, chocolate chips shaped like stars, the best kind of indulgence from the bakery not far from here. Aaron catches a look at the inside of your bag, spying a slim white photo album against your weekly medication divider and the plastic wrapped jigsaw puzzle.

“What’s the album?” he asks.

“Oh.” You slide your thumb along the sticker that seals the cookies and crack them open for Jack to take his spoils. “They’re my baby photos.”

He stills. “They are?”

“And some of me growing up.” You tip your head at him and smile. A little shy, more happy. “I was thinking about Jack, how we both do that chokey laugh when we’re tired, and I wondered if we had any other similarities. And then I realised you’ve never actually seen any of my photos. Would you want to look at them?”

“Please,” he says immediately. “Yes. I’d love to see them.”

You lay the album out on the coffee table. Aaron sits beside you on the couch, and Jack sits on his feet, and together you look through your baby album one page at a time. At first, he’s quiet. He has no idea what to say. You are a beautiful kid, you’re perfect, little baby you with a pacifier on your tummy, or in the summer sun with mud on your little hands, wearing a pink dress with matching canvas shoes and a smile so wide he can see all your baby teeth, or sitting beside a fish tank with a party hat on.

His favourite is a photograph of you that’s been printed oddly, more sepia than colour, where you look to be eight or nine years old. He can see everything in your adult face right there in ink, your smile, the trusting warmth in your eyes when you love the person it’s directed at. Maybe he’s full of himself, but he swears it’s his smile, and Jack’s smile. Hotchner through and through.

“I wish I’d seen you in person,” he says quietly. “Just once.”

You tease the photograph from the plastic sleeve and offer it to him. “Sorry.”

He doesn’t want you to be sorry. Aaron takes the photograph and stares at it against his leg, your little face, your hands behind your back, your left knee wrapped in a bandage. “We missed out on so much,” he says softly.

“I know.”

He places the photo on the armrest, precious and needing a frame. You melt into his arm as he wraps it around your shoulder, and you let him kiss your temple, even if he doesn’t deserve to do it yet. He’s polite about it, he knows his sincerity might feel gratuitous to you —after all, he missed out on so much. But you don’t go rigid at his affection, you just breathe.

“I would’ve loved to have seen it,” he says, too old for tears, and yet a warmth collects behind his eyes anyhow. He won’t cry, only the feeling is there and aching as you move back and give him a typical Hotchner smile. Like he’s being silly, and like you love him.

“It’ll be okay,” you say, “you’ve got, what, a good ten years left? You can see my golden years.”

He laughs suddenly. “Ten? How old do you think I am?”

“You act like you’re nearing seventy.”

“Oh, I do?”

You roll your eyes and lean across the photo album for another cookie. “You do! I wish we didn’t have to wait so long to meet, but it’s not like I’m going anywhere. You won’t find me so charming in a few years, so don’t worry. Now, could you leave me and Jack alone for a bit? I’m trying to sneak him another cookie and you’re getting in the way.”

Aaron hugs you whether you want him to or not, a tight squeeze that you always seem to enjoy, before doing as you’ve asked, promising to find the jigsaw board in the garage so you and Jack can start the newest one.

“Did you miss him?” he hears Jack asks inexplicably.

“Who, dad?” Aaron watches you from the door that leads into the garage. He can only see your hands from this angle, your left one landing on Jack’s shoulder for a small squeeze. “I missed him so much you couldn’t believe it.”

“Thank you for the cookie.”

“You’re welcome! I missed you too, you know? I have to make up for all my lost time being your big sister. Here, you can hide this one in your pocket, if you want. Just don’t forget it’s there.”

#aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner x you #aaron hotchner x y/n #aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner fic #aaron hotchner blurb #aaron hotchner drabble #aaron hotchner imagine #aaron hotchner fanfic #aaron hotchner fanfiction #hotch x reader #hotch #hotch x you #hotch blurb #hotch drabble #criminal minds

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mingumis · 1 month ago

Text

waves of you | kmg

you're called to the ocean, like a sailor to a siren's song. kim mingyu's soul is made of the same stuff as yours.

pairing: kim mingyu x f!reader genres/themes: slow burn, pining, friends-to-lovers, slight angst, eventual fluff (suggestive bonus at the end!) tw: brief mentions of mental health and medication, unhealthy coping mechanisms a/n: my first fic ever posted! pls let me know if this is any good,, wc: 7.4k

You were born on an island, and although growing up, you rarely visited the beach once a year, in adulthood, something about the ocean calls you back to it and eases your nerves. The salt in the air that you taste with each breath, the fine sand hot between your toes, the waves that lap at your ankles, everything is familiar and puts your soul at peace.

It’s what enabled you to become friends with Mingyu, you think, because he’s also inevitably led to the coasts and the sands and the water. Because otherwise, the popular, well-loved sports junkie that he is would never have even looked your way back in freshman year, you tell yourself.

“Oh, how beautiful,” your friend, Yujin, breathes out a gasp as the car rounds the corner and turns onto a road that overlooks the beach that you’re headed towards. Minghao, her boyfriend and the current driver of the car, takes a peek and hums in agreement. It rouses you from your half-asleep daze, and you sit up a little to crane your neck to the side to look out the window.

She’s right. The cabin that your group of friends has rented for the weekend sits cozily along a row of other identical lodgings, dotting a beautiful shoreline that meets the eastern sea. The sunrises are gorgeous, Yujin had insisted, and that had been enough to convince you to come along. Of course, the mention of Kim Mingyu’s presence on the trip hadn’t been omitted either. The view, further solidifying the reality of this upcoming weekend, and the recollection of the conversation sends a flutter of anticipation in your stomach, which you try your best to swallow away.

Once Minghao pulls into the designated parking stalls for the campgrounds, you’re pulling at your belt buckle and all but scrambling out of the backseat. Instantly, you take a lungful of the salty air, feet surging forward and leading you towards the water. You barely hear and acknowledge Yujin’s amused murmur, “There she goes again.”

As you near the beach, you crouch to pull your sneakers and socks off, planting your bare feet into the sand and breathing a quiet sigh of relief. You almost feel instantly healed from the headache of work and life. There’s a few remaining minutes of the sun left, so a few stragglers saunter along the beach still. A family with two squealing children, a couple quietly sharing a blanket around their shoulders, and a singular, tall silhouette that you would recognize anywhere in the world.

Almost as if he’s been expecting you, the man turns his head over his shoulders at the same time that you distinguish him. The grin that splits Mingyu’s face takes your breath away, more than the purple and orange and blue of the twilight sky overhead.

“Hey,” he calls your name with a wave to accompany it, his own shoes dangling from his other hand. “About time you guys showed up!” He’s in a white linen cardigan, sleeves pulled up to his elbows, and his jean cuffs are folded up to his ankles neatly. A pair of sunglasses hang from the vee of his collar, and his hair is wind tossed and salt ruffled. He looks every part a resident of this sleepy, seaside town.

You will your racing heart to calm as you take each footstep towards him carefully and intentionally, so as not to rush and trip. Once you get close enough to see the moles on his nose, cheeks, and forehead that you love so much, you return his smile easily.

“Thought I’d find you here.”

Mingyu just agrees and laughs.

When the sun finally disappears behind the mountains to the west, the two of you can’t linger any longer, especially as the wind picks up with a bite. Mingyu lets you take the lead as you trudge through the cold sand, barely satisfied with the glimpse of the ocean.

You enter the house first, kicking your shoes clean outside, and immediately, a warm body crashes into you forcefully and nearly knocks you clear off of your feet. Thankfully, you’re held upright by a sturdy surface behind you, as you grasp at your chest, where your heart lurches in surprise.

“Seokmin,” you hiss out, mid-complaint, but the man already apologizes at a million words per minute, arms looped around your shoulders.

“Sorry, sorry, sorry!” Seokmin mumbles sheepishly, hugging you properly, as if it’s consolation for giving you the fright of a lifetime (it is). “I just missed you so much!”

A quiet rumble of a laugh breaks you out of the moment, and it’s with mild horror that you realize that the surface that caught you from crashing to the floor is actually Mingyu’s broad, firm chest. With a jolt, you straighten up under Seokmin’s hold and shuffle farther into the hallway, leaving the two men behind and pretending to huff as you go.

In the kitchen, Yujin and Minghao quietly tuck away the groceries and drinks into the fridge and freezer, and you study them for a moment, watching as they work effortlessly in tandem without saying a single word. Their movements come practiced and easy, through years of patience and work and fighting and loving. Despite the smile that curls onto your lips, you wonder cynically if you’ll ever find that sort of love for yourself.

“Oh!” Yujin has turned to place something onto the kitchen counter and has caught sight of you lingering. “And how’s your estranged lover doing?”

You snort out a laugh, broken from your reverie, just as Mingyu and Seokmin catch up to you and crowd around the counter.

“You have a lover?” Seokmin gapes innocently, eyes bright with confusion. He turns to glance at Mingyu, who responds with a shrug and a nibble along his bottom lip.

“Yeah, and his name is the ocean,” Yujin deadpans with a quick roll of her eyes. “Can’t get enough of him, really. Maybe that’s why she can’t seem to find a guy.” She bites playfully, knowingly shifting her gaze from you to Mingyu and back.

You wince, “Ouch.” Pretend not to notice the way Seokmin offers you a sympathetic smile nor the sag of Mingyu’s shoulders. Instead, you plaster on the brightest grin you can manage and change the subject.

“So, what’s for dinner?”

–

You sit on the deck railing, half-ignoring and half-laughing at Yujin’s shrill warnings for you to be careful because if you fall and break your leg, nobody’s taking you to the ER. Behind you, Mingyu mans the grill, and Minghao sets the table up for dinner. Seokmin, bless his heart, sidles up behind you and mumbles sweetly that he’ll drive you, if it comes to it. You thank him with a grin, popping open your can of seltzer and knocking a mouthful back.

The darkness that you stare into is dizzying, but there’s a certain calm that it brings. You swing your legs back and forth, balancing yourself on the wooden beam carefully, and sip away at the can, listening to the distant waves crash and break.

“Doin’ alright?”

The voice comes without warning, and you jump at its proximity which jostles you an inch forward, teetering a bit off balance. Before you have the chance to right yourself, an arm snakes around your waist, holding you back firmly.

“Mingyu,” you breathe. “You scared me.” The motion has made your drink spill all over your hand and pants, and you pull a face, bringing your arm up to lick away at the stray droplets clinging to your skin.

The man besides you giggles a little sheepishly, “Sorry. Dinner’s ready, but you seemed so peaceful and I didn’t want to bother you.” He pulls away once you twist around to come down from the rail, and you instantly mourn the loss of his warmth.

Nonsense, you quickly admonish yourself. As smitten as you may be with the man, you have to remind yourself constantly that he’s been seeing another girl for almost the better part of a year now. The day that epiphany had come, through a careless slip of Wonwoo’s tongue, had gone over rough. You had spent an entire weekend moping on the couch, as Yujin and Minghao, Seokmin and Soonyoung, and Chan and Seungkwan took rotating shifts to make sure you didn’t fall apart completely and do anything stupid.

You know that you’re pathetic, pining after the only person you know who comes close to being perfect, but you’re anything but weak so you tried to take it in stride, laughing easily at jokes and eating all of the sweet treats that your friends brought you to cheer you up. It was only after you shut the door behind Seungkwan and Chan taking off for the night with lingering hugs and quiet murmurs of comfort that you allowed yourself to unravel, heaving through dry sobs that shook your entire body until the tears followed.

You let yourself cry over Mingyu that one night and never again.

Now, as you trail along back inside to the dinner table, eyes glued to the wide expanse of his back, you wish you could cry. Mingyu’s perfect, you’re realizing all over again, as if the distance and time away from him had made you forget. Perfect, but not meant for you.

You gulp down the rest of your seltzer just as you sink into your designated chair to chase away the bitterness that pools in the back of your throat. Seokmin leans into you, bumping his shoulder against yours with a concerned furrow to his brow, but you wave him away with a smile.

“Eat up,” you urge him, nodding towards the piles of barbequed meats that Mingyu has grilled.

You quickly realize that the dining table, despite being long and wide enough to seat all five comfortably, is still too small because you can hear every word, giggle, grumble coming from Mingyu. It gets to the point where you’re just one more seltzer in, barely having nibbled on a short rib or two, and you’re all but sagging into Seokmin’s side, hanging off of every word that comes from Mingyu’s mouth as he recounts some funny story.

At one of the punchlines, you squeak out a giggle, unable to hold it in, and the whole table turns to glance at you, which then makes the others laugh too.

“Oh, man.” Mingyu grins, visibly pleased by the reaction to his story. “She’s gone.”

You snort a puff of air out, mumbling, “M’right here!” Your friends laugh again, and Seokmin snakes his arm around your back to hold you up in your seat, snickering as he does.

“Don’t remember you being such a lightweight,” he muses, chewing on his lip, before he dips his face close to yours to whisper. “You alright?”

You merely smile, head bobbing once. He’s so warm and gentle besides you, and you’ve been so starved for touch like this that you all but melt into him. “Never been better.”

By now, Minghao and Yujin have started up another one of their stories, and you listen along in a half-daze, eyes shut and cheek against Seokmin’s shoulder.

You don’t see Mingyu’s gaze lingering on where you’re pressed into Seokmin.

–

You wake before the sun, mouth dry as if you’ve eaten sand. Someone has carried you from the table to the room with the giant king-sized bed, tucked you into the sheets next to Yujin. Quietly, you slip out of bed, brush your teeth, and shower, and without even meaning to, your feet lead you out of the house, onto the shore.

It’s still too early for the sunrise, and the sky yawns above you, navy blue and speckled with stars. You crane your neck back, mouthing out the few names that you know. Orion’s Belt, Canis Major, Sirius. Once you’ve exhausted the constellations that you know, you find a dry spot in the sand, sit with your legs folded and knees hugged to your chest.

You finally let your guard down, breathing in through your nose, letting out a shuddering sigh through your teeth. Maybe this was a mistake, you ponder, running your fingers through the sand absently. It really is nice seeing your friends after so long, and the ocean welcomes you back home with open arms, but Mingyu’s presence, his beauty, his easy smiles leave the wound in your heart raw and open. Festering.

Another few moments pass by lost in thought, until you pick up your head and notice that the sky has started to lighten overhead. Just then, a short whistle catches your attention, and when you turn, you suppose you’re not even surprised to find Mingyu crossing over the beach towards you.

Your heart pulses and aches as you take him in. He’s in his checkered pajama pants still, a giant gray hoodie pulled on over his head. In the crook of his elbow are two water bottles, as if he knew you’d be here. Something about that thought unravels you even more.

“You’re up early,” you mumble in greeting, nodding your appreciation when he hands you one of the bottles.

Mingyu clicks his tongue and shrugs. “Wanted to see what the fuss about the sunrise was about. You?” He comes right beside you, planting himself into the sand and taking up the same position as you, elbows perched onto his knees.

“Woke up dehydrated as fuck,” you say around a mouthful of water, grinning when he laughs. The man doesn’t say anything else, tilting his head up to watch as the sun begins its ascent.

Despite the ache in your chest, it’s so easy to be Mingyu’s friend, to act like you don’t love him so much that you could die. It’s easy to sit here in silence with him, shoulder to shoulder, elbows brushing, pretending that the moment, and the world, belongs to the two of you.

You zone out, concentrating on keeping your breath steady and thoughts reigned in. It isn’t until a tiny gasp catches in Mingyu’s throat that you’re looking away from the waves, first to him and then up above. Overhead, the sun has risen just enough to send a million colors across the sky. It’s a different palette from yesterday’s sunset, as orange and pink and blue swirl around each other. You stare, enraptured by the sight, and for a second, everything is perfect.

“Okay,” Mingyu says softly. “I get the hype now.”

You glance at him, trace your gaze along the cheeky smile, the wonder in his eyes. Your heart squeezes, and you nod in agreement.

Being here in this moment with him alone loosens your tongue, or maybe you’re still not completely sober because the words are escaping before you even have the thought to stop them.

“Why did you come, Mingyu?” Your eyes widen in horror as you hear your own voice above the gentle push and pull of the waves, but it’s too late to take anything back now.

The man blinks in surprise once, twice, leaning his cheek against a knee to fully look at you. “For the sunrise, silly.”

No, you want to exclaim. Why did you come this weekend? Why did you come alone? But you’re a coward, and you always have been, so you swallow away the rest and hum in response.

–

“Hey, Tiny. Come say hi.”

If the rasp of Mingyu’s voice isn’t enough, that dumb, aggravating nickname that he insists on teasing you with sends your stomach tumbling. He peers over at you innocently as he sits on a stool at the kitchen counter, holding his phone in one hand, his chin in the other, elbow propped up. You cut him a glare, peeking at the screen that he turns to you to find Seungkwan and Chan’s faces peering back at you.

“Oh!” You smile, pleasantly surprised. “Hi, Kwannie, Channie.”

“Hi, Tiny,” comes their response in unison, Chan’s mouth quirking up into a smirk and Seungkwan’s eyes widening mockingly. Little shits.

You scowl immediately, turning away with a sigh. “Sorry, I don’t talk to mean people.”

Thankfully, Chan and Seungkwan know exactly when to indulge someone, and they paw at the screen, blasting the speakers out with incoherent shrieks of apology. You chuckle, dipping behind to put your face besides Mingyu’s.

“Much better,” you nod. “Miss you guys.”

Chan’s grin softens, and Seungkwan splutters at the sudden tenderness, lips jutting out into a pout. “Wish we could’ve come too,” he ends up murmuring, gaze swimming with affection. “It’s been a while since we all got together.”

You chat with the two, and Mingyu interjects occasionally with his own quips until a notification drops from the top of his screen. His thumb swipes it away before you can fully make out the contact, but you do catch the purple heart emoji tagged after the end and your heart drops. You must freeze because Chan pauses in the midst of his sentence and his brow creases a little.

Mingyu takes advantage of the lull in conversation to mumble out a quick excuse and apology, “Hey, guys, I gotta go make a call real quick. Can we call back later?”

You both hurriedly say your goodbyes, before Mingyu’s pushing himself up and away from the kitchen counter without another word. Left alone, you hover for a few seconds, disappointed, before shuffling through the house to find your other friends.

You’re not going to let your weekend getaway be ruined by something like this.

And that’s how you find yourself, clinging to Seokmin’s shoulders as he marches deeper and deeper into the water. His arms hold strong, looped under your knees, and he just giggles, skin warm beneath your fingertips. Just ahead, Yujin teeters precariously atop Minghao’s shoulders, teeth flashing as she shrieks giddily.

“You’re quiet,” Seokmin notes, tilting his head back to look at you. “Everything alright?”

You just hold tighter, hiding your face away into his shoulder. It’d be so much easier to love Seokmin. You already do love him, for his infinite joy and compassion for others, for his positive, sunny presence. But it’s not the same, and it never would be the same. You hate yourself for these thoughts.

“Is it Mingyu?”

You frown and mumble his question away, “No, it’s just my dumb head thinking too much.” With a ruffle of his damp hair and a quick kiss to the cheek, you assure, “I’m okay. Thanks for worrying about me.”

Seokmin merely shies away at the touch, cackling bashfully. He drops his voice to a whisper, “Let’s go dunk those two.” Tightening his hold on you, he surges forward to the unsuspecting couple, and you lunge for Yujin, toppling her off of Minghao and into the sea, which sets off a round of screaming and splashing that makes you forget about everything. It’s hard to be lovesick when your friends are around, grabbing you by the waist to throw you into the water.

–

I can see that you’re hurting.

Your thumbs hover over the phone screen, eyes roving everywhere, anywhere, but that particular gray bubble in the message log with Lee Chan. Lee Chan, who’s so perceptive that he can read you like an open book through a fifteen minute video call. Lee Chan, who’s so in tune with his own emotions that he’s not afraid to call you out on your own.

Breathing a defeated sigh, you type out a response.

I’m doing alright, Channie. I’d rather see him and hurt than never see him again.

His message back is instant: You’re torturing yourself.

You dig a knuckle into a temple, easing the sharp jab that arises from the conversation. With another halfhearted attempt of reassuring Chan, you shut your phone off and pocket it, switching it out for the two pill bottles you’ve carried out with you. You continue what you were doing before Chan’s concern interrupted you, reaching for a mug in the cabinets and filling it with water.

In the midst of shaking out a single pill from each bottle, a gentle voice quivers out from the hall, making you jump and tense. As your luck would have it, it’s Mingyu, forehead creasing as he looks from your face to the labeled orange prescription bottles to the tiny pills in your palm. He holds an empty glass, as if he’s also come out for a drink of water. His face, initially cautious and guarded, opens up, confused and worried and devastated.

“Hey, Tiny,” he mumbles, padding closer and closer. “Everything alright?”

No, no, no, no. You had purposefully crept out of bed once the house settled into a prolonged silence, afraid that you'd run into one of the others. You freeze like a deer caught in headlights, pinned by Mingyu’s searching gaze on you.

When he gets close enough, you finally force yourself to move, hurriedly pocketing the bottles and tossing the pills into your mouth and swallowing them dry. In your panic, they get stuck halfway down your throat, and you have to gulp desperate mouthfuls of water down to dislodge them. Fuck, you’re making a mess of yourself.

Pull yourself together, you chide before urging a smile onto your face.

“Hey,” you murmur back, careful to keep your voice even. “I’m okay, just getting ready for bed. What are you doing up?”

He mutters a quiet reply, “Was on a call.” Right. He’s been on and off his phone all afternoon and night, ever since he scrambled away from the kitchen counter earlier in the morning. He had missed out on the entire beach session, only joining in with the group briefly for dinner, wearing a permanent furrow to his brow.

Despite your attempt at steering him away, Mingyu’s appraisal of your expression penetrates your soul, gaze slow and intentional. He doesn’t press, he never does, but his presence is firm and it’s clear that he’s not backing down without answers.

You shut your eyes in defeat, breathing through a few moments of working up the courage to vocalize something you haven’t told any of your friends. Not even Seokmin or Chan. Because saying it out loud, telling someone else, means that it’s real, means that you’re acknowledging that you are weak after all, despite all of your bravado.

As a last ditch attempt, you wince, “Do you have to know?”

“Yes,” Mingyu insists.

“Why?”

A long silence stretches between the two of you.

“Because you–” Mingyu cuts his words off abruptly, and when you glance up at him, his eyes widen imperceptibly, surprised. He hesitates, which is weird to see because Mingyu never dithers. He always, always barrels through things, whether he’s prepared for them or not. It’s one of the things you admire most about him, so when he falters, it’s your turn to give him a strange look. “Because I’m your friend,” he finally settles on, which makes your stomach sink in disappointment, “I’m worried about you, but you never let people worry about you, which frustrates me.”

Your chest could have been torn, ribs pulled apart to bare your aching, bleeding heart, and it would probably feel the same as you do now as you speak, throwing the words out into the cold, midnight air hollowly. “I take antidepressants. Helps with my anxiety.”

Mingyu exhales forcefully, as if his breath has been punched out from him. He moves automatically, reaching a hand up to cup your face, palm warm against your cheek. “How long?”

His touch is searing, and you ball your hands into fists to stop yourself from tearing yourself away from him or running or throwing up.

“Almost six months now.”

The day after you cried over Mingyu, you had promptly scheduled yourself a slot into a therapist’s office, who had been recommended to you by Yujin. About four months of therapy alone had proven insufficient, and your therapist had suggested medication, which you had greedily, almost desperately, accepted.

“Nobody else knows,” you start blabbing, stomach suddenly lurching with fear because now that one person knows, it’s only a matter of time before others do. Mingyu’s not a snitch, you know this somewhere deep inside your head, but maybe, just maybe, he’ll think that this is information that needs to be shared.

“Hey,” he rasps, but you barely acknowledge it, thoughts racing and dipping deeper and deeper into the swirl of dread and misery that exists constantly inside your head.

“Tiny.”

Only the slight irritation that spikes at the sound of the nickname rouses you from the spiral, and you return to the moment, frowning. Mingyu smiles, despite it all.

“I won’t tell a soul.”

He stays true to his word and doesn’t even bring it up the following morning, but he may as well be screaming at the top of his lungs that something is wrong, through his newfound devotion to hovering beside you at all times. You’ve been brushing past Yujin’s curious hums and dodging Minghao’s side eyeing all morning, but during lunch out at the beachside town, Mingyu pulls your salad away to manually cut the chicken breast into bite-sized pieces in front of everyone before handing the plate back over to you wordlessly. When Seokmin’s eyes appear to be bugging out of their sockets, you decide to intervene.

You have to catch him by the elbow, pulling him aside momentarily as the others step into a gift shop to hiss, “Okay, you’re freaking everyone out.”

Mingyu merely blinks his huge, guiltless eyes at you. “What do you mean?”

“You’re hovering. Stop that. I’m depressed, not dying.”

The man scratches at his neck sheepishly, swiveling his head from side to side to see if anyone has overheard. “Just trying to take care of you is all,” he shrugs.

You sigh. This is exactly why you’d chosen not to tell your friends anything. “I appreciate it,” you say, poking a fingertip against his chest (pretending that you don’t notice the way his firm skin barely gives way beneath the pressure). “But please, at least try to be subtle about it?”

Mingyu merely lets a grin split his face like an overjoyed puppy, as if he’s just glad you haven’t refused his special treatment.

You turn away and into the gift shop, ignoring the way the tips of your ears burn red-hot.

–

“So…”

You groan loudly, lifting an elbow out of the jacuzzi water to tuck your face into the crook of it.

“I didn’t even say anything yet!” Yujin protests as she quietly slips into the tub beside you, knees knocking against yours. She holds out a can of beer to you, which you politely refuse, having already had a moment of weakness on the first night.

“But!” She continues, gaze burning fierce with curiosity. “I think everyone has caught onto you guys, so spill.”

You blink owlishly, wondering what ideas your other friends have come up with. “Sorry to disappoint,” you say mildly, shrugging, “but nothing’s going on.”

Yujin gasps, scandalized. “Then why is Mingyu trailing after you like a lovesick puppy?”

Is that what it looks like? You want to laugh it off, but your friend’s words only lodge a tight knot in your throat that you can barely swallow around.

“He is not.”

“He totally is! Minghao told me that he saw you guys coming in together from the beach yesterday morning, so we assumed something happened then!”

You watch, pained, as Yujin excitedly spins a theory, and you must look pathetic enough because her own expression falls. “What?” Her voice lowers into a concerned whisper, and she reaches for your hand beneath the surface of the water.

“He’s definitely still with that girl.” You try not to sound bitter, squeezing at her fingers. “I saw her texting him, and they were calling the other day.”

“Oh,” she calls your name sympathetically. “I’m so sorry.”

You merely smile at her, wave away her concern. “Don’t be,” you insist, “It’s about time that I get over it anyway. I can’t keep living my life like this, right?”

“Right,” she affirms. “I’m proud of you.”

The two of you soak in the hot water for a few more minutes, chatting about everything and nothing at all, before Yujin complains about her wriggled fingertips. You’re just about covering up the jacuzzi, having sent your friend back inside the house ahead of you, when a patter of bare footsteps up the stairs to the deck from the beach catches your attention.

Mingyu has just climbed up from a night swim with the boys, hair drenched and tousled, water still clinging to his tan skin, shorts pressed to his strong thighs. His eyes are bright when he catches sight of you, and suddenly, you’re hyper aware of your own stare and quickly cast your gaze away.

“How’s the hot tub?” The man makes easy conversation, bending to pick up a towel from a stack that they’ve left conveniently on the deck. He roughly dries his hair, and you pointedly do not look at him as he does.

“Insanely nice,” you breathe honestly, pulling your own towel tightly around your shoulders to keep yourself concealed. “You and the boys should try it out.”

Mingyu hums in agreement, throwing his head over his shoulder to look towards the beach. Seokmin and Minghao are still chasing each other, kicking up sand as they go, voices pitched up in joy. “They don’t seem like they’ll be heading back anytime soon.” He shakes his head mirthfully.

Your stupid heart betrays you, mere minutes after you just told Yujin that you’d start trying to get over him. Defeated for now, you’re opening your mouth to bid him goodnight, when Mingyu speaks first.

“Listen,” he starts. Hesitates again. He crosses over the deck to tower right above you, standing so close that you can smell the salt on his skin. Mingyu reaches, hand resting heavy on your hip, and you’re beyond glad that your towel is wrapped tightly around your torso because if you felt his palm on your bare skin, you might have lost yourself completely.

Your breath catches, and you don’t take another, afraid that any movement will break the moment.

“I did some research,” Mingyu’s voice dips low, as if he’s sharing a secret with you. “Read somewhere that you shouldn’t mix alcohol and antidepressants, but you drank, didn’t you? The first night? That’s not good for your, Tiny.”

You freeze. This is the type of person that Mingyu is, you remind yourself. Someone whose physical touch comes as a natural instinct. Someone who notices and remembers things. Someone who looks things up out of concern.

The weight of his hand on your waist, the scent of his skin and the salt on it, the cloying uncertainty in his voice is all so dizzying that you might as well have been five drinks in now. He is your ruin, your undoing. So long as you are friends with him, you’ll never heal, you realize with dread.

Frightened, you take a few steps back, unable to look at him anymore. You manage a strangled squeak to wish him good night, before you’re all but running away.

When the next morning comes, you feign being sick, which isn’t completely a lie, since the incessant throb in your head is enough to keep you in bed. Yujin fusses over you, suggesting to call Minghao in and make him drive the three of you back to the city to take you home.

“No, no,” you insist, waving your hands up frantically. “It’s the last day that we’re here! Just enjoy yourselves without me. I think I just need to sleep in a little longer.” You even crack open your eyes to smile at her.

Yujin, thankfully, tucks you beneath the comforter tightly, leaving you with a soft kiss on the forehead and a promise that she’ll bring you back something to eat.

–

Mingyu’s very confused, and a little nervous, as his friends give him varying expressions of frustration and disbelief when he tells them that he broke up with his girlfriend a few months ago. Minghao holds his face in his hands, as if he doesn’t even want to look at him when he asks why.

He twists his lips from left to right as he ponders the question. What he told his ex were assorted excuses of “I just don’t see us being a long term thing” or “I think I just have too much on my plate right now”, but after this weekend, he’s not so sure anymore. Mingyu cautiously offers, “I don’t think she was the one. She keeps texting and calling me, though. I shouldn’t respond, but I feel so bad.”

Yujin cuts a glare at him, looking like she’s all but ready to kill him with nothing but the spoon clutched in her hand. She’s evidently a few mimosas in, and she hisses, “Kim Mingyu, you dumb, idiotic moron!”

He blinks in surprise. “Okay, you just called me stupid three different ways in one sentence.”

Seokmin sighs from beside him, poking his fork into the puddle of yolk leftover from his eggs benedict. “Well, you are pretty dumb,” is what his best friend tells him.

Mingyu pouts, a little hurt by the way his friends are treating him, especially when he just told them that he’s going through a breakup. “You guys are being mean,” he sulks, crossing his arms over his chest. “Tiny wouldn’t treat me like this.”

At the sound of his nickname for you, everyone at the table looks at him, and now they’re all glaring at him. His poor little heart shrivels up in his chest, and Mingyu finally lets out a cry, “Can you guys just tell me what’s going on?”

“You have no right.” Yujin slurs angrily, jabbing her spoon in his direction. “No right to treat my girl like that!” Her voice pitches up a bit too loudly at the end, which causes patrons at the surrounding tables to turn and look. Minghao reaches to clap a palm over her mouth, using his other hand to pull her into his side and calm her down.

Seokmin, gentle soul that he is, softly mutters, “Have you ever considered that you might mean more than just a friend to her?”

Mingyu’s mind goes blank, as he falters. A million thoughts run through his head at a million miles per hour.

You’re the only one in the world who understands what it’s like to be led to the water by the ocean’s siren song. He doesn’t have to use words to explain what he feels to you, when he lets himself wander and finds himself skirting the edge of the beach, where the waves lap at his feet and pull away, leaving nothing but foam and bubbles. You’re the one who confided in him first, all those years ago, that you found the city too suffocating and heavy, that you were considering moving back to the island you were born on, despite your entire life being on the mainland. He had smiled and murmured that he wished he could do the same, and would want nothing more in life than to do that.

You, who he can always count on finding at the beach, as if magnetized to one another because your souls are made of the same stuff.

Mingyu’s breathless because his friends are right. He is a dumb, idiotic moron.

He runs back to the campgrounds ahead of his friends, all the way from town. He doesn’t bother checking your room or even going into the cabin because in his heart of hearts, he knows exactly where you are. Sure enough, he’s just coming up the small dune towards the shore when he catches sight of you, sitting with your knees tucked to your chest, head lolled to the side as you watch the water.

He can only see your back from where you are, and you look so tiny. That’s why he had started calling you it in the first place, so fond of how little you are compared to him, how your nose would inevitably scrunch up in objection whenever you heard the name.

Mingyu cannot believe how stupidly blind he’s been.

–

You hear your name being called, but your heart limps along, immune to the sudden appearance of his voice. Tightening your arms around your bent legs, you wait until Mingyu comes by to sit beside you, just like that morning you watched the sunrise together. His back rises and falls rapidly, huffing as if he’s run all the way back from town. Even when his breath settles, he doesn’t say a word, as if waiting for you to speak first.

You inhale shakily and then unload everything before you have the chance to doubt yourself.

“I can’t be friends with you anymore, Mingyu.”

The man soaks in the words, before he says plainly, “Okay. Because I can’t either.” He then leans forward, to crane his head and peer right into your face. Mingyu grins, bright as the sun. Your heart cleaves in two and you’re grasping at the remnants of your sanity to hold it together, and he’s smiling.

“–The fuck?!”

You bite your tongue to prevent hurling more expletives because this is certainly not the Kim Mingyu that you know and love.

His smile only widens, and he’s suddenly talking, words spilling from his mouth and stumbling over his lisp, “I know, by the way. I know that you love me. I know that you’re trying hard to pretend that you’re fine, when you’re not. I know I’ve been so, so stupid, and I’m sorry for that.”

Mingyu reaches across the space that he’s politely left between the two of you, one hand coming to cup your cheek, the other sweeping your hair back from your face gently. He holds and looks at you so tenderly, as if he’s scared of shattering you, and for the first time ever, you feel seen.

“What’s going on?” You manage to work out, but your voice comes out very small.

“I broke up with her months ago,” Mingyu says, as if that explains everything. “She didn’t understand who I was. But you…” A thumb delicately brushes over your cheekbone to catch a tear, and only then do you realize that you’re crying. The man’s smile crumples, and he dips to press his lips onto the top of your head, mumbling into your hair, “Oh, baby. I’m so sorry.”

You gasp for a breath, forcefully trying to swallow away the sobs. All day, as you tossed and turned in bed alone, you had been working yourself up towards ending your friendship with Mingyu once and for all, to protect whatever pieces of your heart were left.

“I thought I was going to lose you,” you warble, finally holding onto him, fingers tightening around his shirt like it’s a lifeline.

Mingyu chortles, and it rumbles throughout his entire body.

“You won’t be getting rid of me that easily.”

–

“Um. What is that?”

Chan’s voice comes through, shrill and scandalized, from the other end of the line, and you can see the cogs turning in his head, as you quickly move to turn the collar of your shirt up and cover the burgeoning mark that Mingyu’s teeth have left on your skin. When Chan leaves the screen momentarily to frantically call Seungkwan over, you whip your head around to glare at Mingyu, who lounges in the armchair beside you lazily, a pleased grin curling onto his lips.

“I’m never hearing the end of this,” you mutter, just as Seungkwan enters the frame.

“What’s this about a hickey I’m hearing?” Seungkwan clicks his tongue disapprovingly. “What kind of low-grade, classless loser did you bring home with you?”

At that, Mingyu jolts up, straight as an arrow, brows furrowing. He starts whining his complaints as he comes over to your side.

You watch with amusement as the recognition of the voice registers in Seungkwan’s eyes first, then Chan’s. Then, Mingyu peeps his face into the camera. It’s actually quite comical, the way Chan and Seungkwan both slap their hands over their mouths, eyes stretching wide.

“What the–”

“–actual fuck?!”

You snicker a little, cheeks flushing as you catch sight of the little window on the phone screen that mirrors back your face pressed against Mingyu’s. He must notice it too because he catches your eye through the screen and leans in to smile against your mouth. A cacophony of groans and gags come from Chan and Seungkwan, but your heart swells, tight with love and affection.

bonus:

“Can’t believe I got called a ‘low-grade, classless loser’,” Mingyu mutters, laving his tongue over the mark on your throat. “Could a loser do this?” His voice drops low and raspy, deep inside of his chest, as his hands dip beneath your shirt and his fingers leave sinful trails along your stomach. As soon as Seungkwan and Chan had hung up the call, Mingyu had immediately pulled you onto the armchair, pinning you into the seat with his weight, knees pressed into the cushions on either side of your thighs.

You squirm, throwing your head back against the armchair in an attempt to create some space, but Mingyu just follows. His hooded gaze burns bright with affection, with desire, as he peers up at you.

Good lord, those eyes of his.

“H-Hey,” you stutter out when you feel the drag of his teeth against your clavicle, the sharp bite of his pointy canines. “Hey,” you repeat, pressing your hands firmly against his shoulders to push him back. “We never talked about the emoji.”

Mingyu’s half-listening, you can tell. He pretends that he’s looking at you, but he can barely meet your eyes, gaze dipping lower to your lips and then your throat. A tongue peeks out from the corner of his mouth, just before he’s trying to lean back in.

You scowl, threading your fingers through the soft hair at the back of his skull and tugging to pin him in place. Head forced back, Mingyu finally focuses, chest heaving. A soft whine catches in his throat and the tips of his ears flare bright red, and you would find it endearing if you weren’t trying to get answers.

“Baby,” he purrs. “That was so hot.”

“Down, boy.” You roll your eyes, loosening your grip on his hair. “The emoji. Explain it.”

“What emoji?”

“The heart emoji, next to your ex’s name in your phone.”

Mingyu pulls his brows together in thought, before he nibbles at his bottom lip sheepishly. “Okay, you’re not gonna like the answer.”

Your stomach turns uneasily, but you shrug anyway. “Tell me.”

The man sighs. “She’s the one who put it there in the first place, and I honestly, swear on my life, forgot that it was there. But she’s since been blocked and deleted!”

You narrow your eyes, contemplating his words. “Hm,” you say, watching Mingyu squirm under your scrutiny.

“Can I show you what you’re saved as in my contacts? Maybe it’ll make up for it.”

You nod, waiting as he taps at his phone to pull it up. When he turns the screen around to show you, and your gaze focuses on “the littlest tiny” with five blue hearts next to it, you can’t decide if you should kick him or kiss him.

Balking at your silence and lack of reaction, Mingyu pushes himself off of the chair to fall to his knees at your feet. He clasps his hands together and places them in your lap, eyes wide and shining with remorse. “I’m sorry,” he whines pitifully. “It was a joke, I promise!”

You regard him coolly, thoroughly enjoying the way his bottom lip quivers into a pout. Before you can stop yourself, you’re pressing a thumb against the seam of his mouth, watching with acute interest as it parts and his tongue, warm and soft, peeks out to meet the pad of your finger. The image sends your stomach tumbling.

“I love you,” Mingyu mumbles, extending an olive branch. “Only you, baby.”

You bite. “Prove it.”

You barely catch the glimpse of the smirk curling across Mingyu’s lips, before his strong arms lift you up and out of the armchair, into his chest, and towards your bedroom.

#seventeen fic #seventeen fanfic #seventeen imagines #seventeen fluff #seventeen angst #seventeen x reader #seventeen x you #mingyu x reader #mingyu x you #mingyu fluff #mingyu angst #mingyu fic #svt fluff #svt fanfic #svt x reader #svt x you #mingumis

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rin-eko · 23 days ago

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Tiny Scales ~ Rafayel x Reader

He’s never been more in love with, or more grateful to you, who is his soulmate. You, who has brought the future of Lemuria into the world.

Content: softness, pregnancy, childbirth in the ocean, non-canon mermaid depictions and biology

WC: 1.6k

Rafayel knows the due date is near. Knows that soon the oceans will be bustling and the waves will spread in welcome to the new heir of the seas.

He can see it. Sense it. He can practically taste it. In the same way he can sense turbulence amongst the choppy waters of the deep sea and taste the salt in the air.

And of course, it is also made obvious in your actions. You don’t notice all the changes happening within you and your subconscious, but he does, and he’s never felt more tender, more protective.

He sees how you want to be alone more often, just like a Lemurian female, often finding you nestled in the corner of your plush, shared bed, fast asleep and cradling your belly for long hours of the day.

Or sitting just at the edge of the private beach outside your home, right where the water meets the sand, knees tucked to your chest as you let the waves kiss your feet and wet your hem, something within you viscerally needing the ocean close in the same way he does.

He sees your enamoured exasperation when you rub your round belly that’s grown heavy and uncomfortable to carry. Notices how in some moments you crave him in ways you can’t help or explain, wrapping your arms tightly around him from behind, nuzzling your face into his back, wanting to crawl beneath his skin so much you’ll huff a sound of helpless frustration, quickly unbuttoning his shirt so you can press your face to his bare skin. His chest, his shoulder blades, his neck.

Throughout your entire pregnancy, you and Rafayel rarely leave the house. Before the small life had begun to grow inside you, you had thought you and Rafayel couldn’t possibly be any closer. You knew everything about each other, did everything together, your lives entwined so completely you could understand each other without words, could feel each other even when apart.

But during your pregnancy, when the two of you literally spent every minute of each day with each other within the safe bubble of your home, your relationship had once again transformed, morphing into something so deep, so infinite and everlasting you couldn’t tell where you ended and he began, where or even if there was any separation of your lives anymore. You felt the air he breathed passing through your lungs, could feel the surrounding world through him and the little one nurtured within you.

As for Rafayel, you had never seen him more relaxed. He had forgone cutting his hair, instead letting it grow, the soft purple ends sweeping down his delicate, pale neck and grazing his shoulders. More often than not he forewent shoes and shirts, and almost always denied invitations or interviews from the world outside your bubble.

He devoted all his time to you and the child safely tucked in your womb, painting countless images of your pregnancy. You sleeping on the couch, one hand on your belly, your hair a mess around you. You standing in the soft morning light of the kitchen. You on the beach, wearing a thin nightgown and facing the silvery moon which casted mesmerising reflections along the inky water. The two of you lazed in bed during those months, rising when your bodies willed, lulling back into a deep slumber in the same way the tides ebbed and flowed.

Ten months. A little longer than a regular human pregnancy. Different from a regular Lemurian pregnancy, too. You weren’t laying eggs. The baby was alive within you, little movements tickling Rafayel’s nose when he spoke to your belly in the dim light of the midnight moon, the soothing sound of waves crashing outside.

“I can’t wait to meet you, my little love,” he would speak quietly in his ancient native language, pink lips softly forming beautiful words. He pressed his lips to your bare stomach and you stroked through his velvety hair in response, your thumb rubbing lightly just below his ear where small pearlescent half-circles could be seen. As your hormones changed and strengthened throughout the pregnancy, his instincts had responded keenly, and oftentimes his scales would erupt on subtle parts of his body before he could help it. You loved kissing those smooth patches, licking them, nuzzling them. You wondered if your child would have them, too. If they would take after their father’s kind or yours. Not that it mattered, the love you both felt for the child could surely sink through your skin and reach them, wrapping them safely.

And when Rafayel wakes after a little more than ten months to find the space beside him in bed empty and cold, he somehow knows.

He doesn’t bother checking for you in the house, walking straight to the beach outside where the sky is a light purple still glittered with stars. He stops at the top of the sand, the breeze whispering through his hair as he stares at the back of the figure swaying waist-high in the currents. Your body, your instincts, perhaps heightened by the Lemurian DNA inside you, have told you that this is the place and this is the time.

Rafayel is shirtless, the light material of his loose white pants sticking to his ankles as he walks into the water, to his calves, his thighs, his hips, right behind you. The waves welcome him in their embrace, acknowledging their god, and soon, the heir to them.

His arms wrap around you from behind and his eyes glow a bright blue-purple, everything within him vibrating as his mate lets out a small moan and leans back against him.

“Beloved, are you in pain?” he speaks right by your ear. His thumb strokes your swollen belly over your thin white dress. The gentle ocean swells pass by the two of you.

You make a small sound that says you are and hold the large hand resting on your stomach tighter, trying to concentrate on the first sliver of the sun’s light casting a tiny glow of yellow on the horizon ahead.

Your neck turns to nuzzle the size of your face against his bare chest, moaning lightly. He ducks his head down. You’re panting a little. “Raf… Rafayel… If this baby takes after you, I will be so happy.”

He kisses your temple, smells your hair and the ocean. “My love, you and this baby are my entire world.” There is nothing more important. Nothing more precious.

And as the first rays of sunlight warm the sand and cause the sea to glimmer like a thousand jewels, a little princess is born. Rafayel holds you throughout, letting you squeeze his hand as tightly as you need, cupping water in his palm to cool your sweating hairline. He rubs your dry lips and silently commands the waves to embrace you carefully, comfortably.

One last whimper and push from you and he feels your taut body sag back against his chest. Throughout the process, silvery-blue scales have emerged on his skin, below his eyes, at the column of his throat, along his forearms and ribs. Whenever he sees you in pain, and also, from his own excitement. And now, he sees a flicker of the same colour quickly splash the surface of the water before sinking a little beneath.

Still holding you securely with one strong arm, the other darts beneath the water, scooping something small and soft and smooth up in the other arm.

You’re both breathless as you stare at the amazing, beautiful creature. So small, with scales a shade lighter than Rafayel’s. So small that its head can fit on Rafayel’s palm. It looks half asleep and droopy, with little saliva bubbles gurgling from its mouth.

And the tiniest, cutest little mermaid tail you have ever seen, the end wrapped lightly around Rafayel’s forearms, the fluke of the tail wriggling slightly.

As if by pure instinct, Rafayel’s own tail stretches out, scales fluttering up his sides, gills emerging by his ears. He brings the baby to your chest for you to hold and you cradle her warmly as Rafayel carries you both deeper so his tail can comfortably stretch out without touching the sand below. He keeps you both afloat like that for a long while, the both of you just staring in awe at your daughter. Every perfect inch of her. You feel no pain, only completely and wholly connected to the sky and the sea and your little family.

The tiny thing blinks dazedly, eyes opening a little and you inhale sharply. A happy sob chokes from your throat.

“Darling,” you coo, reaching to stroke one soft cheek with the back of a finger, infinite gentleness and adoration swelling within you. Her eyes are purple like your beloved’s. A brilliant mixture of the rising sun pink and blues you only find in the depths of the ocean where old Lemurian statues still stand.

“Will she be able to change when she’s so little?” you breathe the question to Rafayel, dipping to kiss the tip of her nose.

“Mmm,” he cradles you and nuzzles the back of your neck. “If she spends long enough outside the water it will happen automatically. She will learn to control it as she grows.”

You imagine Rafayel as a child, learning the same thing, a stark contrast to the strong Lemurian holding you now, the large tail swaying in the water beneath you.

Rafayel’s chest feels so open and so full. He’s never been more in love with, or more grateful to you, who is his soulmate. You, who has brought the future of Lemuria into the world.

#love and deepspace #love and deepspace rafayel #rafayel x reader #rins.works

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maretinelli · 7 days ago

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HYPNOTIZED BY YOU

Lando Norris X fem!reader

Summary: When Y/n makes a commercial for McLaren's new release, and her boyfriend is completely mesmerized by the video and his girlfriend.

Words: 2.2K+

Warnings: Suggestive words, Brazilian protagonist, mention of former pilot, clearly fictitious commercial, mention of famous Brazilian woman, provocations and suggestive ending.

Author: English is not my first language, so apologies for any spelling, grammar and slang mistakes that may be in the story. And of course, this idea is totally crazy hahaha and I also wanted to bring more Brazilian protagonists❤️🇧🇷

MASTERLIST

The initial silence is broken by the precise sound of high heels hitting the polished floor. The camera slowly pans down to reveal a woman’s silhouette walking confidently. The stiletto heel of her Saint Laurent shoes resonates in the room as she approaches a futuristic, luxurious McLaren car, the brand’s latest launch.

The camera pans up to reveal Y/n. Dressed in a black, tailored jumpsuit made of shiny fabric and modern cuts, she exudes power and elegance. Her hair is flawless, loose in waves, and sunglasses adorn her face. Without hesitation, she slides her hand over the shiny bodywork of the car and steps inside. Before closing the door, she turns to the camera, lowers her glasses slightly and winks. The car's engine purrs, and the scene cuts to black.

Now, the sound of new heels echoes through the same room, but this time in a different tone. The camera focuses on the feet of another woman walking with the same elegance, but with a classic touch. The thick heel of the boots and the discreet shine of the leather highlight Adriane Galisteu's class. As the camera moves up, we see her approaching a historic McLaren, the iconic model that Ayrton Senna drove on the streets of Monaco as a hobby off the track in the 90s. She is wearing an impeccable white outfit, with vintage cuts and a belt accentuating her waist.

The commercial cuts between scenes of Y/n driving the modern car through a tunnel lit by vibrant lights and Adriane at the wheel of the classic car, cruising down a deserted road, enveloped by an orange sunset. Both exude confidence and control, the past and future of McLaren represented in them.

At the climax of the video, Y/n and Adriane are leaning against their respective cars, side by side. Adriane looks at Y/n with a smirk and declares: "I am the past."

Then, Y/n turns to the camera and adds: "And me, the future."

Some might say it was a reference to boyfriends, and others would say it was about cars. But regardless of the situation, this would catch the attention of all audiences.

With a determined look, they both exchange keys, throwing them to each other in the air, catching them with precision. Then, Y/n walks over to the classic car, while Adriane heads over to the newer model. Before the screen goes black, the iconic McLaren logo appears, with both of their names below.

Lando left the McLaren meeting with his phone in hand, already swiping his finger across the screen, ready to check the latest updates. As soon as he opened Instagram, the team's commercial video appeared at the top of his feed, and he clicked on it without thinking twice.

The click of heels made his curiosity grow, and when the image revealed Y/n walking confidently up to the latest model McLaren, his eyes widened. The wink at the camera made his heart skip a beat, and he was so immersed that, qhen the video ended and the phrase "I am the past" - "And I am the future" echoed in his head, he almost dropped his cell phone on the floor.

"Holy shit..." He muttered, still staring at the screen.

Beside him, Oscar, who had been following his friend down the hallway, let out a laugh. "You look like a teenager watching his crush's video for the first time." He said with a laugh. "Breathe, Norris."

Lando frowned for a second, but he couldn't fight back. He knew his girlfriend had filmed a special commercial for McLaren and had even cheered her on when the invitation came, but he definitely wasn't prepared for this.

He spent the rest of the day watching the video over and over again, always finding a new detail to admire: the way Y/n smiled while driving, the elegant way she took off her glasses, the confidence in her gaze. At that moment, he concluded: this was, without a doubt, his favorite video of his life.

•••••••••••••••••••••••

Back at the apartment, Lando arrived earlier than usual. And what did he do? He threw himself on the couch, opened Instagram and watched the commercial for the thousandth time that day.

The phrase "And I the future" ran through his mind as he stared at the screen, admiring every detail of his girlfriend's charming smile.

He was so focused that he didn't even notice when the apartment door opened and Y/n entered.

"The weather was perfect for running!" She commented, taking off her headphones and tying her hair up tighter. "But I think it's going to rain in five minutes, so I decided to head back." She went straight to the kitchen, grabbing fruit and the blender to make a juice. "Lan? Honey, are you really home?" She asked absently, as she cut the fruit.

Lando, who was already standing and with a mischievous smile on his face, appeared in the kitchen with his cell phone in his hand. "Hey, honey, I'm home" He said, leaning against the counter.

Y/n looked up and smiled at him, but before she could continue the conversation, Lando held out his phone to her.

"Your commercial went on social media today. Have you seen it?"

Y/n's eyes lit up with excitement. "Really? Let me take a look!"

She wiped her hands and ran to his side. Lando smiled as he pressed play, even though he knew he had already memorized every second of the video. He wrapped an arm around her waist, stealing glances and watching his girlfriend's excited reaction.

As she watched, Y/n smiled and made spontaneous comments. "Wow, I was so nervous to direct this..." She mumbled at one point, chuckling softly.

When she got to the key exchange scene, she laughed out loud, "You have no idea how many times we messed that up! Either I threw the key on the floor or I hit Adriane!"

Lando watched her every reaction, fascinated, and with a silly smile on his face. But while Y/n just saw the commercial as a job well done, he saw something completely different: she was simply irresistible.

The video ended, but he remained still, processing everything once more.

Y/n, not noticing her boyfriend's state, went back to the other side of the counter and continued cutting the fruit. "Adriane was very nice! She calmed me down before we started recording and said it was normal to be nervous for such a big first job." She smiles, cutting a strawberry. "She told me a lot of funny stories about Senna too and we even agreed to meet for coffee when I go to Brazil to visit my family! I never imagined that one day I would meet her. She is simply incredible."

Lando listened to every word, but his mind was elsewhere. Leaning against the counter, he had a mischievous smile on his face and a mischievous look in his eyes,

There was Y/n, exuding naturalness and excitement, in gym clothes, her hair tied up and a light sheen of sweat on her skin. And he, on the other hand, all he could think about was how lucky he was to have such a hot girlfriend. Beautiful. Nice. And radiant.

And that left him completely mesmerized.

Lando sat on the high stool near the counter, his elbows resting on the surface while his phone scrolled endlessly through Tik Tok. He smiled to himself, delighted, as he watched the edits that fans had made of Y/n's commercial. Some had soundtracks that ranged from Brazilian funk to iconic international songs.

Y/n, oblivious, continued to speak excitedly.

One in particular caught his attention. The video began with a dramatic cut of Y/n smiling at the camera before getting into the car, accompanied by the chorus of Happy Nation. He opened the comments section, curious to see the audience's reaction.

'Who's luckier? Y/n for dating Lando or Lando for dating Y/n?'

'Senna, Prost, Hamilton... and now Y/n, the new McLaren legend.'

'I fell in love with this woman in 30 seconds.'

'I never wanted to be a McLaren car, until now.

Lando laughed out loud as he read that last one and shook his head. "These fans are crazy..." He muttered to himself, but deep down, he understood.

On the other side of the counter, Y/n was calm, drinking the natural juice she prepared, while she began to prepare a snack for the two of them. It was then that she noticed that the same song was playing repeatedly on Lando's cell phone. He looked at the screen with a silly smile, clearly glazed.

She arched an eyebrow, bringing the glass of juice to her mouth before casually blurting out, "You've already watched it before me, haven't you?"

Lando looked up from the screen and smiled, feigning innocence. "Why do you think that?"

Y/n rolled her eyes, giving a half smile. "The way you've been looking at me since I arrived. And that mischievous little smile of yours isn't fooling anyone."

Lando laughed. Okay, she got it. He slid the phone across the counter toward her. "Okay, okay. Check this out."

Y/n picked up the device and watched the edit. It was a short but well-produced video, bringing together several scenes from the commercial, alternating between her looks at the camera, the moment the keys were thrown and, of course, the famous phrase: 'I am the past.' - 'And I, the future.'

She laughed, but her cheeks flushed slightly. "Wow... That's really well done."

Lando, watching closely, noticed the way the color spread across her face and smiled. "Oh no, are you blushing? That's too cute."

She rolled her eyes and laughed, handing the phone back to him. "I just didn't expect it to be so popular. It was my first modeling job. I'm just... Y/n!! A Brazilian girl who works in an office in the UK and dates a Formula 1 driver."

Lando smiled and shook his head. "You were never 'just' Y/n. You're the love of my life!"

She laughed, looking away, but he continued to watch more videos, increasingly impressed by the creativity of his fans.

"Wow, you got too professional with this. I think I need an autograph now that my girlfriend has become a star."

Y/n laughed, throwing the bread wrapper at him. "If you want, I can teach you how to walk with style like in the commercial."

"Hmm..." Lando muttered, smiling mischievously.

Before she knew it, he had gotten up from the stool and walked around the counter, approaching silently until he was right behind her.

Y/n was still focused on her snack when she felt his hands on her waist and the heat of his body against her back. He slid the phone onto the counter and lowered his head, leaving a soft kiss on her neck.

She tried to remain normal, but her breath hitched for a second. "Lando..." She whispered, feeling goosebumps run down her skin.

The pilot smiled against her skin and leaned in a little closer, bringing his lips to her ear. "I think I like the real thing better..." He murmured, his voice low and slurred. "But I have to admit, seeing you drive like that was kind of...stimulating."

Y/n turned to face him, a mischievous smile dancing on her lips. "Exciting, huh?"

Lando nodded slowly, his gaze locked on hers. "Extremely!!"

The challenge in Y/n's eyes made him smile before he pulled her waist, pressing their bodies together, and kissed her.

The kiss started slowly, but soon intensified. It was hot, deep, full of desire and admiration. Lando's hands gripped her waist while Y/n's moved up to his hair, pulling lightly.

The seconds dragged on, each moment made the most of, until they parted slightly, their lips still almost touching as satisfied smiles formed on their faces.

"So... I guess you liked the commercial" Y/n joked, arching an eyebrow.

Lando chuckled, resting his forehead against hers. "I think I'm hypnotized by you."

The McLaren driver stole one more kiss from Y/n's lips before leaving her to finish preparing the snack, but made a mental note that those kisses needed to be continued later.

With a mischievous smile, he took two strawberries from the tray and handed one to his girlfriend. "I want to try to recreate that scene where you throw the keys to Galisteu" he said, holding the fruit between his fingers.

Y/n let out a laugh, catching the strawberry confidently. "You don't understand, Norris. I rehearsed that scene so much that I'm now an expert at throwing things in the air."

Lando arched an eyebrow in amusement and stepped back a little to make room. "Let's see, then. On three!"

He counted and at the same time, they threw the strawberries to each other. Y/n caught hers with ease, while Lando, despite being an F1 driver with sharp reflexes, fumbled a bit before finally catching the strawberry in mid-air.

"And look, you're an F1 driver" Y/n teased, laughing. "Improve those reflexes, handsome!"

Lando rolled his eyes, smiling, and returned the strawberry to the tray before leaning slightly toward her.

"I was nervous, you know? Having to catch a strawberry in mid-air while McLaren's newest star is right in front of me..."

Y/n laughed, rolling her eyes, and moved close enough to lightly hit his chest. "You're insufferable sometimes, you know that?"

Lando held her hand against his chest and smiled in a way that made Y/n's heart beat faster. "But you love me anyway."

Y/n let out a theatrical sigh, feigning surrender, and smiled. "Unfortunately for me... yes."

He laughed and before she could escape, he pulled her in for another kiss. This time, he was in no rush to finish.

Author: Damn, that was cool to write hahaha

#fanfiction #y/n #romance #imagines #one shot #formula 1 #formula one #fem reader #lando norris x y/n #lando norris x reader #lando x reader #lando norris

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