#YES I FINALLY CAN UPLOAD AGAIN

[lewisvinga]

true love | max verstappen/joe burrow x fem! reader

summary; after news came about the ending of y/n and max’s relationship, fans think didn’t think k she’d rekindle with her childhood lover, joe.

fc; amberly yang

warnings; cheating

taglist; @namgification @louvrepool @locelscs @thehufflepuffavenger1 @minseok-smaus @goldenmclaren @ollieshifts @lavisenri @graciewrote @xoscar03

note; requested ! i don’t write for joe burrow but i rlly liked this idea😭 i lowk missed the fact reader is a rbr driver but i tried to add little comments after lol

masterlist !

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yourusername uploaded to their story !

[caption 1; grumpy bc i don’t want to go out in sweats w no makeup when we’ll be out all day????😀] [caption 2; no longer grumpy bc he has food now???😭]

joeyb_9 put that phone down and finish ur makeup pls🙏🙏

yourusername im almost done don’t worry🙄

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joeyb_9 uploaded to their story !

[caption 1; finally dressed up buy by baguettes ???] [caption 2; i don’t get her but she’s cute and wins races at least lol ]

yourusername it’s a fashion statement , you wouldn’t get it!

yourusername also u think i’m cute??🤭🤭

joeyb_9 i can hear u giggling btw and yes i do

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liked by joeyb_9, yourbestfriend, and others !

yourusername: guess being cheated on leads you right back to your true love since day 1

tagged; joeyb_9

joeyb_9: happy birthday, pretty girl ❤️ liked by yourusername !

joeyb_9: i love you❤️

yourusername: i love you🥹

username: not the max shade LMAO

username: ICONICCC

username: JOE AND Y/N ARE TOGETHER AGAIN😭😭❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹

username: THE WORLD IS HEALINGG

yourbestfriend: happy bday hawt girl 😻and ur bf is cool i guess 😒

joeyb_9: we’ve known each other since high school????

yourbestfriend: yeah so lol

yourusername: LMAOO thank u bae

username: GOD BLESS AMERICA🫡

username: i used to pray for times like these 😭😭❤️‍🩹

username: don’t let ur bf stop yall from finding true love guys

username: except her bf cheated on her 🤓good thing tho bc she’s thriving w joe🙈

username: my parents are back together 🙏🙏😭

username: wonder how rbr feels abt this😭

username: no more maxy/n pr, the joey/n girlies are happy 🙏

[mydadleft471]

A Trip Down Memory Lane

Summary: Messmer decides to surprise you in more ways than one.

Spoilers for both Elden Ring and Shadow of the Erdtree. No warnings tho, just me loving my fiery redhead.

MESSMER LOVERS COME EAT!

I finally got the courage to upload the fic I was working on! Everyone was so nice (and starving for Messmer content) so I folded lmao. Please enjoy and understand that I have never written anything like this, especially with ye olde English. It's a pain.

“I have something I wish to show thee.” Messmer’s low voice cut through the silence reverberating in his chamber.

“What is it?” You look up from patching a hole in one of his cloaks.

“I cannot say. It is a surprise.” His eye twinkled with something akin to mischief. You put down your needle and gently fold his cloak, putting it on your chair to finish later.

“A surprise for me? Are you feeling alright, My Lord?” You smile at him from where he towers above you. 

“Shush. Wilt thou follow?” 

“Always,” you say.

He leads you down countless flights of stairs and through the castle’s corridors. Down a hallway, you follow him as he steps into a lift that takes you to a part of the castle that is unfamiliar to you. You assumed you had explored everything by now, but it seems you were wrong. Messmer had given you permission to freely roam the castle, and you had spent a lot of time exploring the various rooms. You had gotten lost many times within the many twisting and confusing hallways, but the castle staff always led you back to your quarters. 

The path from the lift leads out to a part of the castle almost entirely flooded. This seems like a place that hasn’t been occupied in many years. Some of the buildings you can see appear to be collapsing and debris litters the area. The water churns uneasily below you, as if something lurks in the depths. Taking a few steps away from the ledge, you stare out into the water that swallows surrounding buildings.

“What is it?” Messmer asks. He senses your trepidation in going any further, though you don’t think you have much to worry about with a powerful demigod at your side. Still, this place sets your nerves alight and has you on high alert.

“I’ve never seen this place before. Where are we?”

He speaks as if it’s common knowledge. “The Church District.”

“What happened here?”

He takes a second before he responds in a flat tone. “It does not matter.” Noticing your face falling slightly, he gives you a small smile. “Thy surprise is near. Come.”

You continue to follow him, your footfalls mere echoes of his much heavier ones. You wonder where he is taking you, and why he decided to surprise you. Though you have gotten much closer to him throughout your time in the Realm of Shadow, you can’t wrap your head around the fact that he wants to show you something himself. So many unanswered questions, though Messmer brings about many of those. Still, you cannot complain about how well he treats you now after you’ve earned some of his trust. You are safe within his walls, and you are welcome.

Though you wish he’d let you into his heart and mind more often, you take what you can get.

Finally, he stops in a room with a large, and complete, statue of Queen Marika. Many throughout the Realm of Shadow have been beheaded, sending icy chills through you when you first arrived, but this one is intact. The only signs of damage have been from the apparent age of the statue.

“Dost thou trust me?”

His question catches you off guard. Looking up at him, he looks vulnerable and almost uncomfortable. 

“Of course I do. I wouldn’t have followed if I didn’t.” You smile at him to ease his tension.

He relaxes slightly. “Of course. I will ask thee to trust me again.”

You shoot him a puzzled look. How could you trust him any more than you already have?

“Close thine eyes. I shall lead thee, hand in hand.”

The prospect of him holding your hand makes heat rush to your cheeks, but you comply. Closing your eyes, you hold out your hands, and a few seconds later, he grabs them in his much larger ones. He holds them delicately, as if you might break if he dares to squeeze your hands. His skin is surprisingly smooth and warm. 

“I will ensure thou dost not fall and injure thyself..” 

“I’d appreciate that.”

He chuckles at your comment, a sound so rare and pleasant you want to hear it again and again. He begins walking, gently guiding you down a hill and you soon feel sunlight on your skin. The air feels lighter and there is a pleasant smell of lavender and fresh grass in the air. You wonder where you could possibly be. You haven’t seen much greenery in the Realm of Shadow.

After a few minutes he stops and lets go of your hands. You instantly miss his warmth, but you soon feel the heat of him behind you. You keep your eyes closed out of obedience and trust; you know he would not harm you.

His hands gently find your waist and he moves you a few steps to the left. Satisfied, he lowers a hand over your eyes to ensure you will not open them prematurely.

“This place is sacred. Inviting thee here was not a spontaneous act.” His voice is a mere whisper in your ear. You can’t tell whether to be scared or excited for what he will soon allow you to see.

He moves his hand away from your eyes, but they remain closed. You will not sully his trust. 

You can hear the smile in his voice. He’s pleased by your obedience. 

“Open thine eyes.”

You do, and you are immediately greeted with a grassy field speckled with vibrant flowers. You’ve never seen so many in one place. You think it would take all day to identify them. Trickles of gold sit suspended in the air like shattered stained glass and the sunlight kisses your skin sweetly. Not far up a hill is a small village made up of a few wooden houses. They look old and mostly abandoned. You take in the beauty before you. Not even Leyendell was this spectacular.

“Thou’rt pleased, I take it?” His voice wavers slightly with uncertainty.

“This is a most wonderful surprise, My Lord. Thank you for bringing me here.” You look up at Messmer, whose golden eye seems to shine brighter in the sanctity of this place.

“Forget formalities here.” He sits down in the soft grass and you are soon to join him. He looks relaxed, even happy, here.

“May I ask where we are now?” You idly skim your fingertips over the silky petals of the flowers swaying in the breeze around your skirt.

“Mother’s home. Her village before she became a God.” 

Your mouth hangs open in shock. It takes you a few moments to gather yourself enough to speak. “Queen Marika lived here?”

“Yes,” he answers. “Long ago.”

You wonder if Marika wanted Messmer to guard her old home, or if he does it out of love for her. You’ve seen the state of other Shamans within his infirmary, his medics working day and night to try and reverse the torture they’d went through. You knew Marika was a Shaman herself, but you’d never realized this place was originally her home. Your heart hurts for the God-Queen. Behind all her power was a girl who wanted her people safe.

You sigh, and Messmer shoots you a curious look. “This is the first time I’ve seen Marika as a person. Knowing she lived here, knowing she suffered… I understand now.”

Messmer reaches up and takes his helmet off, gently placing it to his side. “Mother desired revenge for her peoples’ suffering, and I became her instrument to do so here, in the Land of Shadow.”

“Did you want this?” 

He closes his eye. “Mother has endured what a thousand people could not. I will ensure she receives her long-awaited deliverance.” He dodged the question. He does not want this, but he desires to avenge Marika.

“I know you won’t answer me truthfully, and we don’t have to talk about this anymore. But know this: you are not ‘The Impaler’ to me.”

“Thank you.” His response is so quiet you almost can’t hear it, despite being right next to him.

As promised, you change the subject. “Have you brought others here?”

He looks away and you can see a faint blush creeping up his cheeks.

“I have not. The first to lay eyes on this place is thee.” He admits.

“Why?”

“I-“ he begins. “Surely thou must know thy importance to me, yes?” 

The realization hits you. 

This is his way of saying he loves you.

You scoot closer to him and lay your head against his arm. You feel him tense, then slowly begin to relax. One of his snakes gently perches itself on your shoulder. You smile.

“You can touch me, you know.” You reassure him. “You won’t break me.”

Silence hangs in the breeze as you wait for him to respond.

“Dost thou understand my reason for bringing thee here?”

You nod against him. “I think so.”

He moves away from you, earning himself a confused look, then he slowly grabs your hands and pulls you closer until you are comfortably sitting between his legs. You look up at him and see that his face is almost as red as his hair. He is adorable when he blushes.

You could get used to this.

“You will forgive me if I am too presumptuous. I am… not accustomed to touch, yet I want thee closer.” His soft, silky voice makes your heart melt.

“I want you closer too. It’s okay.” You cup his face with both hands, and though it’s a simple gesture, he relaxes into your touch almost immediately. His eye closes and you try to memorize the look of peace etched on his face.

“With thee, I am content.” He whispers to you.

“Then I’ll see to it that we’re never separated.” 

His eye flutters open and he hazily looks down at your lips. His hand engulfs your cheek and you feel the warmth radiating from his palm.

So many have met their demise from the man sitting in front of you now, content and complacent, and that thought sends shivers down your spine.

“No man nor God could tear thee away from me. That is a promise.” 

He leans forward and kisses you. His lips are soft and he pulls you closer to him and his hands are splayed possessively over your face and back. You don’t want to pull away, and you get the feeling he doesn’t want to either.

You are his as he is yours.

[risingode]

loml (loss of my life)

summary: in which ellie's only ever cried in front of you three times. yet the fourth is the most devastating of them all.

pairing: ellie williams x y/n

genre: angst

wc: 962

please comment or message letting me know your thoughts! it helps motivate me :)

once again inspired by taylor swfit :)

a/n: hello everyone! it has been quite a while since i have uploaded on here. i've had a lot of changes in my life since the last time i posted a writing of mine, primarily, i am now in my third (!!!) year of university. crazy to even think about tbh. anyways, i know i primarily write about jungkook from bts, but recently i was gifted a ps5 by my brother in law and the first game i bought was tlou part 2 remastered because i never quite got over the game, or more specifically, ellie williams lmaooooo. anyways pls enjoy this short little drabble, i am excited to get back into writing! and yes, i will keep writing for jungkook as well, i'm just mixing it up a bit!

Ellie Williams was an enigma to the world, and right now, her mystery is unfurling in the cruelest of ways. The room before you is a tapestry of shattered dreams, clothes scattered like discarded promises, each garment a silent witness to the betrayal unfolding before your eyes.

Your heart, once so full of trust and love, feels like it's disintegrating. A heart-shaped void appears on the floor beneath you, a grotesque reflection of the pain ripping through your chest. There, in the dim light, your fiancée lies entwined with another woman, their bodies a stark betrayal of the vows once promised to you.

It's almost absurd, the way a love that once made you feel invincible can crumble so easily, as if it was all a cruel joke. The sight is so surreal that you question its reality, your mind unable to reconcile the image before you with the life you thought you shared. Your feet are rooted to the ground, as if some invisible force has tethered you to this unbearable truth.

The diamond ring on your finger, once a symbol of unending love, now feels like a shackle, its weight a painful reminder of the promises that were so carelessly broken. You stand there, numb and hollow, the ache in your chest growing more insistent with every breath. 

Her voice is a faint murmur, drowned out by the protective haze your mind has wrapped around you, shielding you from the full weight of her betrayal. The woman who promised to stand by you for the rest of your life is now an almost surreal presence, a distant echo as the reality of the situation sinks in.

They scramble to untangle themselves from the bed—your bed. Clothes are hastily pulled on, and you feel a wave of nausea rise up, the bile surging before you can even hope to stop it. The force of the moment propels you into action, and you sprint through the house, your heart pounding with the realization that every corner holds a painful reminder of the life you built together.

The couch you assembled in your first apartment, the dishes you chose together, each one a piece of your shared dream, perfectly matching the white and royal blue of your kitchen. The kitchen where you cooked meals side by side, dancing to songs from artists you discovered together, 

“This one’s the song I want to walk down the aisle to,” you’d said, stirring the pasta as you both cooked together.

Ellie looked up from where she stood, buttering garlic bread. “Yeah?”

“Yeah,” you replied, smiling as you watched her. “Do you like it?”

Her eyes twinkled with that familiar warmth as she walked over to you, wrapping her arms around your waist. “I don’t care what song you walk down the aisle to,” her tender voice whispers into your ear, “as long as the person standing at the end of it is me.” 

The air is cold against your hot skin, a reminder of how real everything you just experienced was. You couldn’t seem to care, though, almost prying open the door to your poorly parked car. The silence of it deafening as you give yourself time to catch your breath, finally it was quiet. Still, the sounds of their shared moans and whimpers echoes in your mind. The silence doesn’t last long, a loud thump breaks you out of your dissociated trance. Your neck snaps towards your driver’s side window, Ellie’s tearful face is the sight you’re met with. You think back to all the times you’ve seen her cry before. You conclude it’s three. 

The first time was when she was drunk, confessing her feelings, afraid you didn’t feel the same. You had held her close, whispering reassurances. 

“Oh, Ellie, you’re silly to think I don’t like you too.”

The second was when you were rushed to the hospital after a fall at work. The memory is a blur of bright lights and pain, but Ellie’s tear-streaked face as she clung to you is vivid. 

“You scared me so bad, baby,” she had sobbed into your shoulder.

You had tried to lighten the moment, chuckling despite your discomfort. “I just have a mild concussion. The only thing I’m worried about is how I’m going to step back into that office without a bag over my head. I’m so embarrassed.” 

She pulls away to look at your pouting face, noticing a light purple bruise decorating your pretty eye. She frowns, leaning in to leave a kiss on it. “Shut up, you’re never leaving my side again.”

The third and only time you cried alongside her was the day she proposed, her hand shaking in your grasp as she got down on one knee. 

“You’re the love of my life, Y/N. I don’t care how many years pass, or how many hurdles we come across, I will always be there for you. I can’t imagine loving anyone as much as I love you, baby.” 

You’re choking on your tears, your hand feels almost numb at the tightening of her grip. You reach your empty hand up to your chest, willing your beating heart to still. 

“Will you marry me?” 

Now, in the cold car, you’re confronting the fourth time, a cruel twist of fate that you never anticipated would be this moment. You thought the tears would come on your wedding day, as you exchanged vows to love and cherish each other, for better or for worse. The irony makes you laugh, a broken, hollow sound, as you shift the car into reverse.

Ignoring the pleading sobs muffled by the glass, you drive away, each mile feeling like a mile further from the life you once knew and the promises that were so easily shattered.

[world0fmadness]

ROSBERG AND ROSBUG

nico rosberg x wife! reader x ( platonic! ) oc daughters

faceclaim: assorted

୨୧ the lack of fanfic for this man… oooh boy, pisses me off so bad i can’t even… so just have this short and sweet domestic fluff! reader can be of any profession in this fic to be honest, but i imagine them both to now be retired! fellow nico rosberg fans… eat up <3 some of the images don’t have two kids but pretend they do and some don’t really match the ages but i imagine little rabbit to be around 5 - 7 years old and little ladybug to be newborn - 2 years old throughout the posts

reading music recommendations: to all of you by syd matters - youth by daughter

nicorosberg: i think yn likes being pregnant because she gets to use her baby bump as a table… hm 🤔 oh yes! yn is pregnant again!

nicoynforever: EXCUSE ME?

> nicoynforever: WHAT?

oldf1lvr: what a way to announce it 😭

sebastianvettel ✔️: you did not tell me? - sebastian

> jensonbutton ✔️: nor me 💔

> markwebber ✔️: me neither!

> nicorosberg ✔️: sorry mates, you know how me and yn are!

❤️ liked by sebastianvettel, jensonbutton and markwebber

> oldf1lvr: not the ex-drivers now dilfs being kept in the dark for so long too…

iluvf1: yep! she’s pretty pregnant! lmao 😭

loveunico: this is so them, i love it actually

f1lover: she’s such a comfy chill mom… i want this someday but only if the man is like nico

> ynrosbergln ✔️: word of advice: don’t settle for anyone who isn’t at least a little like nico 💘

❤️ liked by nicorosberg

nicorosberg: welcome the newest member of the rosberg family! my little ladybug or my little rosbug should i say 🤔 little ( or not so little anymore 😢 ) rabbit loves her new sibling so much already 🐰 🐞

oldf1lvr: rosbug… for his little ladybug… 🥹

> iluvf1: oh my god this is so cute i’m gonna go scream into a pillow real quick

jensonbutton ✔️: little rabbit has gotten so big! i’ll have to come visit you lot soon to meet the new addition, congratulations mate

❤️ liked by nicorosberg and ynrosbergln

> nicorosberg ✔️: yes! i feel it was only yesterday when she fit in the palm of my hand… but it feels great to relive those moments now with our new little ladybug ❤️

❤️ liked by jensonbutton

nicoynforever: first it was little rabbit for their first baby and for their second it’s little ladybug 🥹

> new2f1: have they ever explained the nicknames?

> nicoynforever: well we don’t know the story behind little ladybug yet but little rabbit is because according to yn, she had a twitchy nose ever since she was a baby

> ynrosbergln ✔️: little ladybug is because she has two identical beauty marks on opposite sides of her back! so she looks like a little ladybug

❤️ liked by nicorosberg

> nicoynforever: okay… i’m so calm about all of this… so calm about how cute that is… so calm about yn replying to my comment… so calm

❤️ liked by ynrosbergln and nicorosberg

> nicoynforever: THEYRE TRYING TO KILL ME 😭 THIS IS AN ATTEMPT TO GIVE ME A HEART ATTACK

sebastianvettel ✔️: congratulations nico and yn! i’ll have to come visit with the girls someday - sebastian

❤️ liked by ynrosbergln and nicorosberg

> oldf1lvr: YES, GO SEE THEM SEB 😭

> iluvf1: would be nice if someone else paid him a visit… hmph…

> oldf1lvr: 🫢

nicorosberg uploaded to his story!

nicorosberg and ynrosbergln: little rabbit finally has her own rabbit 🐇 🐰 welcome to the family britney

nicoynforever: BRITNEY?

> oldf1lvr: THEY DID NOT…

> iluvf1: THEY DID 😭

jensonbutton ✔️: looks like a britney to me! almost like someone else i know 🤔

❤️ liked by ynrosbergln and nicorosberg

> nicorosberg ✔️: oh? really? wonder who that could be…

❤️ liked by jensonbutton

nicontop: little rabbit with her own little rabbit 🥹 this is so cute

oldf1lvr: he seems so at peace now… good for him ❤️

iluvf1: no one could ever make me hate you nico rosberg…

> lovemyf1dilfs: yes! he’s just living his best life with his girls, he’s always been the best boy 🥹

nicorosberg: had a great time this week! thanks for the love everyone showed me, but truth be told, i can’t wait to go home to my girls ❤️ 🐰 🐞

nicoynforever: he just wants to go home to his girls already 🥹

> nicontop: he loves his girls so much 😭

nicontop: he’s still so hot to me 🫣

❤️ liked by ynrosbergln

ynrosbergln ✔️: we miss you ❤️ have a safe flight back, the girls send kisses

> nicorosberg ✔️: yes liebe, miss you too, many kisses back to my girls ❤️

❤️ liked by ynrosbergln

jensonbutton ✔️: always nice seeing you again mate!

> nicorosberg ✔️: of course, you too jenson 🙂

oldf1lvr: nico rosberg, the dilf that you are…

❤️ liked by ynrosbergln

> oldf1lvr: and yn ln, the milf that you are…

❤️ liked by nicorosberg

nicorosberg and ynrosbergln: this is the life 🍋 🐰 🌻

iluvf1: i want to live their life…

nicoynforever: NICO AND YN DO YOU NEED A THIRD CHILD?

nicoynforever: OR HOUSE ENTERTAINMENT?

nicoynforever: OR EVEN A PET?

oldf1lvr: their life looks so peaceful and happy 🥹

> iluvf1: yeah, i understand why he retired to live a life like this, just living life in the countryside with his girls

jensonbutton ✔️: they’ve gotten bigger! i’ll have to come visit again soon ❤️

❤️ liked by ynrosbergln and nicorosberg

> ynrosbergln ✔️: definitely do! little ladybug missed her favourite uncle ❤️

❤️ liked by nicorosberg and jensonbutton

> markwebber ✔️: excuse me? 🤔

> nicorosberg ✔️: what yn meant was, her favourite british uncle!

❤️ liked by ynrosbergln, markwebber and jensonbutton

nicontop: little rabbit picking lemons and little ladybug picking flowers… i can’t 💔

loveuyn: that picture of nico taking a picture of little rabbit… so cute

> nicoynforever: literally… i bet they have SO many photo albums already 😭

> nicontop: he’s such a proud dad 💔

nicoynforever: the pictures of nico and yn 🥹 they’re still so in love, love to see it

> oldf1lvr: literally… look at how she’s looking at him in the 7th picture

lovemyf1dilfs: nico rosberg, born to be a girl dad

❤️ liked by ynrosbergln and nicorosberg

⋆ ˚｡⋆ ୨୧ ˚ NEW ADDED BONUS ˚ ୨୧ ⋆｡˚ ⋆

love you forever nico <3

[143hyunes]

when you help them shave

includes: ot8 x gn reader

genre: domestic fluff, crack(?), sfw

synopsis: you ask your bf if you can help him shave

warnings: implied established relationship, use of nicknames like baby; babe, lots of kissing, suggestive (lee know & seungmin), mention of blood in han's part, extreme **fluff**

wordcount: 2.5k

a/n: i saw a similar hc a while back, so i was hesitating whether i should upload this for the longest time (i've had this in the drafts since January 😭), my version is different from that one though, i can't believe i'm finally posting this. anyways i hope you like this <33 as always reblogs and feedback appreciated !!

CHAN

Days off with Chan were always eventful. Today was one such day and he was in a playful mood. The razor was in your right hand while you held onto his chin, in order to glide the razor easily across his jaw and cheeks. But Chan had other plans, you yelped out in surprise when he pulled your waist against his naked torso, the razor dropping from your hands, luckily the razor was not near his face and he didn’t get hurt. “Christopher! You could’ve seriously gotten hurt, please don’t do that again.”

“Yes ma’am!” He cheekily exclaimed, saluting you. When his hands went back to your waist again, you gave him a glare.

“What? Can’t I be close to my baby?” He said matter of factly. You sighed, you loved his cute antics, the way he was always seeking out your touch even when asleep, if he could he would never leave your side. “Okay, ok, I guess we can compromise.”

You led him out to your shared bedroom, setting the glass with water and shaving cream on the floor. When he sat down, he guided you to sit down on his lap. After you had settled on his lap, you started your handiwork on his face again. 

“All done.” You say grinning, satisfied with your work. “Finally.” He says before pulling you in for a kiss, the kiss is soft, tender and unhurried.

Both of you stop to take a breathe but don’t pull away from each other, almost sharing the same air. “I love you.” His sudden admission makes you blush. “Like I really, really love you.” He enunciated, nuzzling into your neck.

“Then will you make breakfast and do the dishes today?” He giggles.

“Anything for you baby.”

LEE KNOW

Your boyfriend’s insistence on not keeping a straight face was getting troublesome, you had been trying to shave his face for the past half an hour. He kept making goofy, semi scary expressions, you didn’t know how he could have so much control over his features. “Lee Minho, you’re really going to get hurt and ruin your shirt and it won’t be an accident.”

“I won’t hesitate to resort to violence.” You warn him again.

That seemed to make him stop but you should’ve known better, his hand had sneaked around you to get the bottle of the shaving foam. You dodged just in time but his attacks didn’t stop after his failed attempt. He finally managed to get the foam on your face. “You’re such a brat.” You scoffed.

You had to restrain him, that’s the only way you could get work done. Your left hand held both of his wrists behind his back while you used the right to shave his face, you tried to finish as quickly as possible because he could easily break free from your “constraints”. He played along though and was surprisingly cooperative. “Damn, babe I didn't know you were into that kind of stuff.”

“Shut up.” You knew you would not hear the end of it and soon his friends would also start teasing you. After you were done, you playfully, lightly slapped his right cheek. He sent you a skittish glare before caressing your neck and leaning in. You thought he would kiss you but he pulled away at the last moment. 

“Ugh,, you’re such a menace.”

“You know you love it.” You begrudgingly agree, giving his lips a chaste kiss.

CHANGBIN

“Bin, Bin!” You slowly shake his shoulders.”Don't fall asleep on me when I’m shaving your face.” You say while cupping his face, he leans into your touch giving your palm a soft kiss.

“Mhm hmm.” He hums.

You dutifully start shaving the side of his jaw again, when you clean the razor of the foam on it, you feel soft curly hair and hot breathe on your neck as he lays his head down on your shoulder.”Oh my baby is really tired, isn’t he?” You coo, your fingers massaging his scalp and he only lets out a cute grunt still laying on your shoulder. 

“Tell you what, if you let me finish shaving your face, I’ll make pancakes with chocolate chips for you.” That seems to wake him up and he obediently faces you. You laugh at his antics, the way to his heart was truly through food. 

You quickly shave the remaining hairs on his face and give him kisses all over his face. You watch as he snuggles back into the sheets, he looks so cute and endearing, you just want to bite him.

You make the pancake batter and add chocolate chips to it. You flip the last pancake and add it to the stack. Pouring his favourite apple juice into a glass, you take it and the plate of pancakes to him, you knock on the door to wake him up. He gives you a smile that you would kill for. 

His takes his first bite and smiles up at you again. “Really delicious, babe.” he says his mouthful of the pancake, he lifts his fork up for you to taste your creation. He always does this, sharing his food and feeding it to you too. 

After he’s done eating, he convinces you to take a nap with him. You can never resist him and the way his arms around you make you feel warm and safe. Slumber soon finds the both of you as you cuddle.

HYUNJIN

Hyunjin’s leaning against the wash basin, lowering his body so you can easily shave his face, he holds onto your waist for support. His hands are rubbing small circles on your waist and he’s humming along to one of your favourite songs that plays from the bluetooth speaker. Quiet nights like this where you have his undivided attention make you so giddy. 

Hyunjin always liked to hold intense eye contact, something that made you very shy at the start of you guys’ relationship, it still flusters you. His intense gaze on you right now was making your cheeks heat up, you’re always curious as to why he does that, so you decide to ask him right now.

“What? Why are you looking at me like that?” you meekly ask him, the scrutiny of his gaze making you timid. 

“Nothing, you just look so cute while you’re concentrating on something.”

That makes you stop, your blush deepening at his confession. “But you always look at me like that.”

He seems to ponder over his next words, his lips and eyebrows quirking up, making him all the more endearing. A stray strand of hair falls into his face and you tuck it behind his ear, cupping his face. 

“It’s because I love you, I’m trying to commit your face to my memory, so you’re there even when I close my eyes.” He finally answers.

Sometimes you feel overwhelmed by the love he has for you, this feeling making you feel full, akin to having a meal with your loved ones where after your hunger is satiated due to the good food and the hearty conversations. 

Still cupping his face you lean in to kiss him, trying to convey your love and feelings you cannot describe through the kiss. And he understands, like he always does, both of you were so attuned to each other’s emotions and mannerisms like you were cut from the same clothe.

He breaks away from the kiss only to go back to kiss your forehead. It had become his 2nd favourite spot to kiss you, after you had let it slip one such night that you really liked forehead kisses because they made you feel loved and safe. 

HAN

Han had had a very eventful day today and you could tell from the way he was so excited to tell you all about it while you shaved his facial hair. He was a ball of energy even at the end of the day, his animated gestures making you smile.

He seemed to forget that you held a sharp razor in your hand and turned his head abruptly, you pulled your hand away but it was not soon enough.”Ow!” He yelped out in pain.

The razor had scratched his skin, making it bleed; fortunately the cut wasn’t too deep.

You remove the first aid kit from the bottom drawer, using the alcohol you clean his wound. It hurts your heart when he flinches from the sting of it, but you proceed to apply antiseptic cream to his wound, softly blowing on it, in hopes that it would hurt less.

You kiss the mole on his left cheek, you couldn’t resist it. He smiles, his thumb caressing your cheek.

“I’m sorry, I should’ve been more careful with the razor.”

“Hey, it’s not your fault babe, I should’ve been more attentive and not move around so much.” He reassured you, kissing your forehead.

“Let me kiss it better, unless it doesn’t hurt too much?” You grin cheekily.

He suddenly clutches the side of his face, acting like he’s in indescribable pain.”Oww, Y/N it hurts really bad, only my baby’s kisses can heal me now.”, he exclaims with a pout.

You giggle while kissing his soft lips, he leans into the kiss, holding your face.

Later you did each other’s skin care routine, you were of course careful of his wound, not wanting to hurt him. You spent the rest of the night watching anime cuddled up beside each other.

FELIX

Felix really liked being taken care of. The blush that creeped up his neck when you asked him if you could help him shave his face today, was indication enough. And you liked taking care of people. You were perfect for each other. 

The razor hovers just before his jaw while he looks at you with such a loving expression that it floors you. He looks so adorable even with his bed head, the sunlight streaming in through the bathroom windows, making his skin glow. The freckles on his face truly shining like constellations in the night sky. You were hit with a huge wave of love for him, you just couldn’t not kiss him, not when he looked at you like you had put up all the stars in the sky. So you did, feeling lucky to call him yours.

He smiled into your kiss, returning it with the same fervour.

“I love you, Lixie.” He only giggles, blush deepening. 

“Oh really? What a coincidence, because I love you too, baby.” His voice was deep and gravelly after the long hours of sleep and it was driving you crazy would be an understatement.

You only realise that you have shaving foam on your face when he wipes it off you, his movements delicate. You must have gotten it on you when you kissed him. 

After you were done, he made breakfast for the both of you, scrambled eggs for him and sunny side up for you. You loved how domestic all of this was and could imagine spending the rest of your days like this, basking in each other’s love. What you didn’t know was that Felix shared the same thoughts as you, already planning your future in his head.

SEUNGMIN

Seungmin was very apprehensive of the idea of you shaving his face, you were naturally clumsy and he was afraid you would abrade his skin.

“If I get hurt I’m suing you.”

“Kim Seungmin, do you want to sleep on the couch tonight?”

“No.” He says begrudgingly.

“Then you will listen to what I say.”

You gently drag the razor across his face while he stands as still as a statue. He really is afraid of you hurting him, so you decide to tease him. You flick the foam on his jaw and giggle when it lands on his hair. It looks like he has a cloud on his head, when your hand again goes to flick the foam, he grabs ahold of your wrists. “Why’re you such a brat today?”

“I just really like teasing you, Seung.” You say directly looking him in the eyes, his right hand holding onto your wrist, in between your faces. 

Releasing the grip on your hand, he leaned down, his hair touching yours and now you too, had a cloud on top of your head. “Now we’re even.”

“Hey! Not fair, you attacked when I was distracted!”

“You’re the one who started it.” He says while crossing his arms. He towered over you though it was not much, you caught him off guard when you tickled his sides. Soon enough, it turned into a tickle battle and both of you were out of breathe. 

You had no idea how it happened but he had somehow managed to cage you between his arms, your back against the glass wall of the shower. “You’re really such a brat.’ He says raising your chin with his pointer finger. “But it’s ok. I actually like it.” Before you know it, he’s leaning into kiss you. 

You don’t know how he could be so passionate with his kisses so early in the morning, his tongue fighting for dominance with yours. 

“I like being a brat for you too.”

JEONGIN

It was a lazy day in and you were cuddling with your boyfriend, when you had the idea to shave his facial hair. “Can I shave your face?” You asked as you looked up at him from where you lay on his chest. He makes a distinct sound of agreement to your question.

“Okay, let’s go.” You say pulling at his hand.

“Now? But I’m so comfortable.” He says pouting.

“What can I do to convince you?” You say nudging his side.

“Can we pleasee have Mc Donald’s for breakfast?” He asks, flashing his signature charming, dimpled smile.

“Hmm, it’s not healthy, you know that baby.”

“But-I’m also craving a hash brown. Oh what the hell, you only live once.” You say giving in.

He gives your cheek a kiss when you agree to his peculiar request.

Both of you decided to place the order after you were done shaving, since the food arrives fast. 

Jeongin was really compliant and before you knew it you were done, it was going surprisingly smoothly. He must have really wanted to eat his favourite shrimp burger.

You, however, soon realised that you had spoken too soon, as your boyfriend’s hand collided with dirty soap water and it almost spilled on you. Luckily for you his reflexes were strong and he caught the glass before it could spill on you.

“You’re such a klutz, babe.” You tch, teasing him.

“That’s not how you treat your saviour.” He haughtily replies, a lilt in his voice.

“You’re also the one who put me in harm’s way.”

“Okay, fair enough. Can we please order Mc Donald’s now?”

You go to the bedroom to find your phone and place the order. When food finally arrives, the smile on Jeongin’s face is so big that it makes you smile too. Lazy days would always be the best as long as your boyfriend was with you.

[faeryarchives]

hey chat! (first years x gn! streamer reader!)

summary: random but cutesy moments with your bf and brother ortho while being on air warning: modern au! fluff just fluff and rusty writing 🙂‍↕️ characters: twst nrc first years notes: platonic/familial section for ortho (you being the shroud's sibling) !! recently read some streamer au and it made me yearn and now im dragging you guys with me 😁 + longest one i've written ...

check out the art made by our lovley marj 🤍

divider credit goes to @cafekitsune !! her dividers are rlly cute check it out 🤍

✧.* ace trappola

being a streamer with a clingy boyfriend is really interesting

you are a pretty well known streamer mainly focusing on rpg games and movie reviews

and you also have a pretty good fanbase - they are pretty chill, encouraging and welcoming to newcomers especially in chat (maybe the chat do reflect the streamer)

they are pretty used to the times where you would start your stream with ace in the camera view sitting next to you

the loading screen finally disappeared revealing you on screen waving at the camera. "heya (fandom name) and non-(fandom name), welcome to the stream!" a laugh escaped your lips as the chat start to flood greetings, some were spamming hearts, some are getting creative with their comments and only one stood out to you. (name)clips: our favorite most beautiful wonderful (name) i hope you had a good day! please beware of red haired rats nowadays! and oh hi ace, i guess "oh you are worried for me? sure thing, i will look out for red haired rats, right babe?" "not you again (name)clips, i know you love my partner but they would pick me over you at any day!"

while they always joke around with you and ace, you `can see how they adore your boyfriend as much as they adore you

creates compilation of you and ace during your streams + ace is a regular watcher of your fandom clip channel

@ (name)clips uploaded a new video: when (name) is going crazy but their boyfriend is crazier @ thebestace: @ (username) SEE I TOLD YOU THAT U MISSED THAT ONE SPOT @ (username): i am kicking you out of our minecraft house 😡 NAWT MY FAULT YOU SAID LETS NOT CHECK THAT ANYMORE?

and he sees it all and leave comments (very supportive bf real)

especially when the two of you do streams together specifically horror based games and movie review

"(NAME) WHERE ARE YOU?!" while trying to escape the monster in front of you, ace's character suddenly blurred in and bumped into you. his screams echoing through your headphones. "ace i am literally in front of your character- why are you closing your eyes?!" "I DON'T KNOW WHERE TO LOOK!" "just move to the sid-" before you two could move out of the way, the monster grabbed ace's character and killed him along with his screams leaving you to run away from the scene. "i will live for the both of us!" ilikepringles: LMAO NOT THE CUT OFF SCREAM?! deuce spade 🔧: wow what a normal horror game day with these two cowabunga: never heard someone hit that note so high gloomurai 🔧: what a diva trying to salvage your gameplay (you both didn't save before the encounter), you didn't notice how the door to your room opened only for ace to lean to lean on your side while burying his head into your shoulder. and as if your body was on automatic mode, you leaned your head next to him and hummed. "i hate you." "i love you too, do you want me to finish this game?" "mmmm, we could play it another time with more people..." a dangerous glint appeared in your eyes with both of you letting out evil giggles. epel felmier 🔧: just got chills running down my spine should i be scared (name) (last name) 🔧: oh yes you should be

✧.* deuce spade

now before you even start your streaming life, deuce was the one who helped you with setting up and with the computer troubleshooting

that is why when you experience trouble during your stream, chat would typically expect him to come in your room with snacks for both of you while he fix your computer

while deuce is more on hands on, this man doesn't really understand most of the slangs your chat use that's why sometimes you include him in reading your fandom tweets

"this is a surprise video but we are going to read some of your tweets under my hashtags! and by i meant we, my boyfriend is going to join our stream today!" not even a minute in of scanning through the compilation of your fandom tweets about you, deuce looks so confused. "from @ ieattoes, not gonna lie, i would let mx. (name) (last name) to break my back like a glow stick. i'll stay on my knees for them." the man looked spaced out for a moment before looking directly at the camera with the most worried look you had ever seen. "... first of all, i don't know if i should be concerned with your username or the tweet. second, what the fuc-" "okay, next one!"

deuce is also one of your moderators! and let me tell you how he is so strict with people breaking the rules ESPECIALLY if there were mean comments about you on your chat

while he do want to uphold his running for honors persona, people disrespecting you, your viewers and friends is a different thing

randomuserjvsd: why did they just passed through that chest? its one of the most important things to do in the game? rebeccabot: aren't you that one streamer accused of hacking? fgsvklvbdhsv: LMAO SHIT GAMEPLAY WATCH (name) DRAMA CHANNEL INSTEAD it was a norm for you to receive such comments but who cares? your community knows you well and you know you did nothing wrong but to play the game. "hi to my favorite haters, thank you for viewing my stream! i don't know about you but tuning in live helps me makes money so..." through out the game, you notice how one by one those channel start disappearing in the chat, peaking your interests. "oh my, that is interesting." one and only ace 🔧: LMAO ONE TAP DEUCE STRIKES AGAIN deuce spade🔧: don't worry love, just continue your stream 😊

deuce's mom, dylla, knows about your hobby and fully supports you with it! even sending you some gifts to try on stream and promote them

pretty sure deuce and his mom are one of your biggest supporters in the fan base really - like mother like son (they are leading the fan war whenever someone drags you into a mess)

he knows he is not much of a gamer but man will go lengths for you in the game

(name) (lastname) @(username) guys 🥹 my bf went through multiple domain runs to build his characters and help me with the boss and explore the new areas in fontaine + liyue 🥹 (he suck at playing games) even in star rail so he could understand what i yap about 🥹 879 replies 11.5k retweets 1.2k quotes 90k likes @ thebestace - if my man isn't like this then i eon't want hiim @ (username) - GAY SPOTTED IN REPLIES?!?!?! @ cddiamond - HAPPY PRIDE 🌈🏳️‍🌈 @ jamilviper - congratulations @ spadecued - hey i don't suck that much at games :( @ (username) - remember how you died to a ruin hunter @ spadecued - that was when i start playing the game ??

✧.* jack howl

"... since we ended the game late and some of you don't want to leave yet, why don't we have a quick chat?" while you are having a small talk with your viewers after finishing your nth game run, your chat start to flood the stream at a fast pace ji9star: are my eyes playing me or something just passed through (name's) door? lightray: and it's 3am too... kreideprinz: how can you guys see a shadow when their hallway is so dark? "shadow?" curious, the viewers could only watch as you stood up and peeked out of your room. for a moment, you looked shocked and honestly the chat couldn't do anything anyways but what surprised them when that same shadow patted your head and urged you back inside. https.(name): A HAND?!?!?! (name)luvr: that is actually me scaratoes: stop the delusions ruggie bucchi 🔧: woah a mystery someone 🤭 "don't worry guys, it not a bad ghost. its a friendly neighborhood one! ace can prove it, right?"

being very open and active in your social media account, your viewers didn't expect you to be in a relationship!

sure as the kind of person who is hands on in academics and games, they didn't think you would still have time for a special someone!

its not like they are mad - they are happy !! but more like curious on who is the mystery guy!

"who is the mystery guy?" you stopped in your tracks to look at someone off camera and laughed, not wanting to spill the beans so early. the view count did increased once you reach out of the camera view only to show to the camera that you are holding someone's hand. cater diamond 🔧: oh you crazy 😭 "there is no fun if our mystery person got revealed so early, so why don't we start a game?"

in no time #friendlyneighborhoodghost start trending on twitter (not calling that app as X) - speculations about the mystery person

(name) (lastname) @(username) you guys are funny 😂 how are you so wrong about it? good luck guessing because he is also having fun with all your tweets 🤭 who knows he might be your mutual 1k replies 23.5k retweets 3.5k quotes 400k likes @ (name)clips - HOLY SHHIT WE GOT A CLUE ITS A GUY SPREAD THE WORD! @ (name)luvr - i am that mutual @ https.(name) - sweetie we support you but not with this one @ azulstan - no wait what if oomf is cooking something @ leonakingscholar - how are you two such trolls @ (name)bf 🔒 - whatever they say goes 🫡 @ jackloml 🔒 - ily 😘

its not helping them at all when you laugh at each speculations, because some of them were actually crazy

as if to add insult to injury, the mystery guy would come in your stream fully clothed and would randomly hug you from behind, - his face would always be out of camera's view and you made sure of that

it went on for months and finally, something happened

"... i don't think that was the best ending of the game, we could've save some playable character-" before finishing your insight on the game's ending, jack entered your room, his earphones on and probably just got home from training, not noticing how you were still on stream. "hey love, i am going to cook for our dinner, do you want anything?" at first there was silence, not noticing how you just froze in place and looking at him in shock. jack felt there was something wrong and finally removed his earphone, realizing that you were unmuted and your viewers probably heard it on live. "...oh." livelaughlove(name): THEY BAGGED THE ATHLETE?! jackstan: this is the best day of my life my two fave are together 😭 one and only ace🔧: LMFAO U STUPID ruggie bucchi 🔧: U HAD ONE JOB 😭 now i have to pay leona $20 thee leona kingscholar 🔧: hah told you i'm right "guess the secret is out now, finally!" you rolled your chair away from your chair to come your boyfriend and hug him from behind - proudly showing him on screen. "so yeah, this is our friendly neighborhood ghost! you guys may know him as the athlete but he is pretty active in the fandom too, right?" "i'm not subtle about being yours too, its not my fault no one believes me." scanning through his phone, jack showed a particular twitter account that sent the chat through more frenzy. white beast @(name)luvr told you guys i'm the real deal. love you @ (username) 259 replies 2k retweets 1.5k quotes 50k likes @ (username) - love u too 🤍 @ https.(name) - IT WAS REAL THE ENTIRE TIME? @ (username) - told you guys he was among you 😝

✧.* epel felmier

it was funny how you two first met because it was just on pure accident that you got to team up in a random 5 man team

and the two of you carried your team leading to more duo team up with each other

turns out you have a lot in common too, what a strange coincidence!

and now you live together 🥂

"how did you and epel got together? oh that's such a good question!" you twirled your gaming chair around - huge grin apparent with a mischievous glint in your eyes hayikeva: not the scary vibes all of the sudden 😭 jiminijipity: they were so waiting for this moment to come kandii783: LMAO ON THE OTHER STREAM EPEL JUST GOT SHIVERS "so funny thing! you guys already know how we met through valo and we got to know each other more through discord and collaborations with other streamers. while we only play fps and rpg games on stream, we play some game specifically for two players only!" epel felmier 🔧: ??? epel felmier 🔧: what r u talking abt epel felmier 🔧: R U BACKSTABBING ME?! bokuaka4ever: WHO CALLED HIS ASS HERE? (name)#1fan: what kind of games were you two playing? "oh hi epel, no i am not backstabbing you, it's the opposite - i am sharing how we got to know love! why don't you guys guess what kind of games we play?" teresita: roblox? randomuserh: GEOGUESSER epel felmier 🔧: get that away from me "don't mind him, we almost ruined our relationship fighting about the capital of australia." rook hunt 🔧: I KNOW THE ANSWER!! epel felmier 🔧: what are YOU doing here?! leona kingscholar 🔧: its not like it was a secret, it was obvious afterall mwishxr: WHOA THEE LEONA SPEAKS "hush you two don't spoil the surprise!" as the two streamers appeared on chat, more and more people start to appear too, mostly the familiar ones. ace trappola 🔧: real i have to agree w leona on this one ruggie bucchi 🔧: (2) deuce spade 🔧: (3) jack howl 🔧: wow this is surprising sukisuki: IJBOL DID THE WHOLE GANG TUNED IN TO EXPOSE EPEL? yuriified: this is the real power of friendship epel felmier 🔧: this is not friendship this is BULLYING "alright, i guess if he won't tell then i will - we often play sky: children of light. we play other games like minecraft or stardew valley but epel in this game is so amazing because he is guiding me throughout the game and everything." epel felmier 🔧: ihy 😡 epel felmier 🔧: i am taking tubby with me 😡 sleep outside tonight "wait. no, okay i'm ending the stream" and you really did end the stream on the spot

you apologized with tears that night (no not really)

both of your fandoms know about tubby - your adopted dog/child and he will witness his parents (mostly epel) screaming at random people in game to the point that he will bark along side your screams

but sometimes u have your off days too so there were times where you might have bad game plays -> getting trashtalked by your random teammates

as soon as you peeked at the corner, your character suddenly fell down after getting headshot by the enemy team. frustrated, you let out a groan before burring your head into the pillow next to you. "(nickname) do you wan to take a break?" "no i can still go for one game, i'm really sorry epel. after i told you we would rank up..." "it's oka-... what the fuck?" surprised at the sudden change in attitude and the sound of your boyfriend's furious typing ringing in your ears, you automatically looked at the team chat realizing why he suddenly became mad. randomnamehere: wtf if you are going to troll can you not do it here? randomnamehere: so much so for being a (username) fake randomnamehere2: that is so embarrassing get your ass off rank noob (username): have u seen your stats, been covering for your skill issue the whole game "if i wasn't a streamer, i would've talked back about his ass gaming very much." applelppa: why don't you get your ass off that pc and touch grass and have a touch with nature bc YOU TWO ARE THE ONES WITH THE MOST DEATHS?! **applelppa has been muted for 24 hours** "love, you got muted again..." "COWARDS I TELL YOU! YOUR MOM WILL NEVER BE PROUD OF YOU!" "epel-" "WHY DON'T YOU *BEEP* Y-" "BRO, WAIT CALM DOWN! I AM ON LIVE!"

✧.* ortho shroud

this little guy is a regular at your stream no doubt it!

it would be more surprising not to see ortho in one of your streams rather than being in it

ortho would entertain your viewers while you go try to tell idia to tone his screaming down (real)

"okay so do you think i should change furina's artifact or not?" leaning over your shoulder, your brother took a closer look humming, analyzing everything then shaking his head. "no, your build is actually perfect, i think you should focus more on-" "AHHHH I HATE THIS GAME!" a loud scream followed by a loud thud from the room above you cause a thousand of laughing emoji to roll in the chat. jiminijipity: lolololololo mamasita: the eldest sibling is back at it again lolololol ace trappola 🔧: did idia just died or something jamil viper 🔧: as someone who plays league, he is pretty relatable... "... not this again, ortho keep them entertained for me will you?" with annod, you left the room running and ortho casually twirling around his chair, waving excitedly at the camera. "hello everyone! how are you all doing?" orthofanreal: HI ORTHO petuniaaaa: hello ortho how are YOU doing? skibidirdir: its a miracle your neighbors haven't filed a complaint with how noisy your sibling gets in playing games "we are sure noisy, but the truth is we don't actually have any neighbors, it gets pretty lonely here at times." in the viewer's eyes, they can see ortho looking out of your window longingly before shrugging what ever was clouding his mind and smiled. "you guys might already know that our parents are really busy leaving us three to stick together most of the time. and i am glad that (name) and big brother idia would include me in their livestream so i won't feel lonely." https.shroudsiblings: oh no... who is chopping the onions :( jack howl 🔧: you know you can come over here evey once in a while right? yuu 🔧: ORTHOOOO 🙁 there were several crying emoji flooding in as well as the sound of someone crying behind him. the youngest shroud turned around to see his older siblings at the door way, holding in their tears - obviously hearing what he just said. "since when did you guys got here?" "*sniff* okay fuck league and genshin we are going to play mario kart."

it may come as a surprise but ortho is actually the best player out of the three of you

ortho being first followed by idia and you at dead last 😅

but hey who cares if you are last?! you could even play the most boring game ever but ortho will always make it like its made for fun

sometimes you would try to entice ortho with his favorite food just to turn on idia on voting what to play on game and movie night

(name) (lastname) @(username) i love my siblings very much (don't mind the ugly one at the right) 459 replies 2.5k retweets 1.1k quotes 40k likes @ orthoshroud: but isn't that big brother idia on the right? @ (username): exactly 🥰 dont mind him at all our youngest 🤍 @ randomuser: loolololol agreed @ (username): @ randomuser shut the fuck up only i can insult idia @ gloomrai: I SEE HOW IT IS I AM TELLING MOM @ mrsshroud: yeah about that idy... @ (username): IJBOL

✧.* sebek zigvolt

and if i speak - this man will get everything just to support you

and i mean everything: your channel subscription, merch, plushie, photo cards that he made and he will still support you by sending donations + gifting subs to your fandom

sebek is very proud of you real! he is very vocal about it and he really feels giddy when you invite him to your streams

(name) (lastname) @(username) okay new waiting room for you all <3 and donations are still off so it's a sign for y'all to save money I AM LOOKING AT YOU MISTER @ wanisama 😾 (insert twitch link) 233 replies 1.5k retweets 900 quotes 20k likes @ gloomrai: to those non (fandom name) its like putting a kpop stan on merch ban for their fave artist @ lilredbat: and i was about to sen you some too @ (username): SO YOU ARE THE ONE INFLUENCING HIM 🫵 @ wanisama: :( @ (username): oh don't you go all sad on me now mister YOU'VE DONE ENOUGH 😾

but it won't be too long until he would do it again - just like a routine 😭 that is just how he shows his love okay

other than that, sebek is a pretty cuddly person and pretty much let you do what you want

while you were streaming, you suddenly faced the man with your arms wide out. "sebek babe, come here." before his mind could even process anything, his body moved on his own and quickly wrapped his arms around you. even giving you a a kiss on the head. "what's wrong?" "hehe, nothing. can you sit next to me? we just finished playing." "sure, do you want me to get some snacks?" you cuddled each other, him wrapping you into his hoodie, until you finally finished the stream.

its funny how your viewers would comment on how you are endorsing more of sebek's hoodie rather than your own merch 😭

with your relationship being out in the open, it's no surprise that both of you would shoot some videos and post stories on instagram like cooking and this is where they realize sebek is more like a boyfailure disaster than the one they see on live

"sebek?" "...yes?" "... can you tell me what are you doing right now?" in the video, sebek was trying to hide something behind him, ribbons and papers scattered around his feet. sebek avoided your gaze, hand flailing in the air. "i-i thought you were streaming?" the more you step forwards the more he tried o hide that certain thing behind him "yeah but it got delayed because the game had a sudden maintenace... oh my god is that the one i wanted to buy the other day-" "OH MY MY PHONE JUST STARTED RINGING, I THINK WAKA-SAMA IS CALLING FOR ME. FAREWELL MY LOVE."

yeaaa and don't get him with the q and a because he has a one track mind if there are questions regarding about you

i think he knows you more more than yourself

sometimes though sebek would join his friends' games and content involving everyone asking each other questions and such (like 2 truths one false or a batsu game).

"okay, my turn!" after ace spin the bottle, it landed on sebek who looks like he was about to say something that would change the world. "ah, it's sebek. now this is hard." "give me your worst, trappola." the green haired man challenged, knowing he will emerge as the victor (man vs himself). "alright! if you could kiss anyone in the world without consequences, who would it be?" "easy, my wonderful partner (name) (last name)." "that shit don't count, you do that anyways!" "@ (username) in every social media platform." riddle rosehearts 🔧: never let ace interrogate anybody (name) (last name) 🔧: AWWW BABE <333 I LOVE YOU TOO (name) (last name) 🔧: and ace open up i'm at your door 😃😊

[sulfursmells]

Gas Leak

(Can someone tell me if I uploaded this one before, cause if yes then I guess it was deleted)

You arrived at the supermarket to just find a few things, eggs milk etc. what you didn’t expect was to see a six foot hunk right at the top of the aisle you had to go down. You can’t help, but try to look at anything else so he doesn’t see you checking him out. Taking quick glances at him then farting your eyes else where to try and hide your interest. You then bend down to reach something at the bottom shelve squatting in the aisle. As you search through all the items you notice the guy is practically behind you, the back of your head on lvl so the his ass. You turn your head to get a glimpse, as he moves backwards putting your face right between his cheeks.

The dude grunts as you are hit with a horrid smell and start to cough. “Woah sorry dude, just wanted to play a joke didn’t mean to give you a face full,but hey you make a good seat and muffle.” He said with your still between in the middle of the aisle. After releasing another more potent fart he finally got off. “Smell you later” is all he said as he walked away down the aisle. You keep coughing trying to come back from the horrible experience and continue your shopping. You enter the next aisle of and are immediately hit by the same smell again causing another coughing fit. You try to escape by going to the next aisle then the next aisle and then the next aisle again the same thing happening each time. Your eyes watering and struggling to breathe you grab your last item and book it to self checkout. As you’re waiting, the air begins to get easier to breathe and your eyes stop watering. You take a deep breath in as the same dude from before slowly walks past you leaving in his wake a silent but deadly that has everyone behind him coughing and gagging from the smell. Your red itching eyes locked onto him as he walks to the front scanning and paying for his items. He then makes eye contact with you walking towards you. “You seem to be fairings better than most here’s my number for when you really want to see what I can do. By the way the names Dustin.” After handing you a note with his number he walks to the front of the store stretching and letting rip one very audible blast before walking out of your sight. You ponder wondering what if this was just child’s play for him. Scared to think what he could do if he really tried to gas someone. “Maybe that someone will be me.”

[cheeseceli]

With a youtuber s/o

Pairing: idol Lee Know × cover dancer Gn!reader

Genre: fluff, headcanons, established relationship

Request: Can you make Minho w a YouTuber partner 😔

Warnings: straight up delulu, not proofread.

A/n: had fun doing this one so I'll probably make youtuber reader with some other members as well! | Daily click

‌for context, you'd be a dancer

‌and you'd post shorts on YouTube covering K-pop songs

‌some videos on those "public K-pop"

‌and maybe even tutorials

‌you'd be relatively famous in this type of field (kinda like innah bee yk)

‌and one day, one of your shorts reaches Minho

‌we saw Minho's reaction to boy's planet, we know he's gonna judge😭

‌so when he saw a video of you dancing god's menu he was like "not this again"

‌but it turned out to be pretty good??

‌very good actually

‌and the set was kinda cute and you were even dressed up on the MV theme

‌there was a clear dedication put into the work you were doing

‌so he might've clicked in your channel to see your other videos

‌and he watched all your videos

‌really, all of them

‌the improvement was so good to watch

‌then he proceeds to watch your longer videos and to follow you on insta and tiktok

‌and just like that you became a sort of celebrity crush to him

‌he even started to watch your tutorials to learn other idol's choreos

‌yes he is a professional dancer and he could learn it by just watching the dance practice a few times

‌but what's the fun of it?

‌so he would watch your 40 minutes tutorials happily

‌but one day ! he finds out that you were invited to perform at KCon and lmao, guess who pestered jyp staff just so he could go there as well

‌yeah you got it right

‌besides finally seeing you in real life (and why were you so gorgeous??), he got the opportunity to see you backstage

‌and maybe even talk to you for a bit

‌maybe film a challenge with you

‌maybe even get your number

‌who knows?

‌the thing is, you guys got to know each other after that day

‌you guys would talk pretty much everyday

‌and he would often invite you to the practice room just so you guys could dance a bit together

‌two dancers in love must be something so cute to witness

‌he would also help you with some choreos

‌especially the stray kids ones

‌would be extremely offended if you delayed one of skz choreos to film another cover first

‌and would be more than happy to teach you everything you want to know

‌will probably make excuses to be way too close to you when teaching you

‌also helps in your videos

‌to film, to make the scenario, to help with the lighting...

‌sometimes he lends you pieces of the outfit he wore in the MV and the comments are always like "oh my God, this looks so much like what Lee Know wore!"

‌haha funny story...

‌anyways

‌he's your #1 supporter and you can be sure he will always be the first one to like your videos

‌and will share every. single. video with the boys

‌like "look at my partner!! So talented!! Why can't you all be like that"

‌but they can also tease him a lot because of that, as Minho always gives the most soft smile ever whenever he sees you uploaded a new video

‌as I said, your biggest fan indeed

Masterlist | you'll probably like: Fri(end)s

Reminder that this is all fiction, this does not represent the members in real life!

Thank you for reading <3

Taglist (open!): @yuyubeans @dandelions-143 @sleepyleeji

Dividers by @cafekitsune | images 1 2 3

[cassiesc0rner]

Impurities III

Synopsis: You’re the new girl at East Highland High, your only goal is to get through school. Until you come across Nate Jacobs

Genre: smut, fluff, slight angst

Pairing: Nate Jacobs x fem!reader

Warnings: manipulation, lying, dark themes

smut, lingerie, pet names, fingering, protected sex, p in v, slight size/strength kink, corruption kink, lmk if I missed something :3

Song rec: speed - kali uchis | oxytocin - billie eilish | altitude - montell fish

WC: +9k

Other parts: previous part, next part

A/N: So sorry for the late upload, the smut part took me way too long lmao I hope that it’s good at least💀 It’s also marked in case some of you don’t want to read it!! I genuinely hope you guys enjoy this part (also yes, I got carried away with the perfume part because I love perfume) ᥫ᭡

"Nate, I'm not sure if that's a good idea.." You said as you two sat in his truck. You were currently on the way to school and it was the first time since you became his girlfriend.

He already planned everything for the perfect entrance. He texted you the night before to wear the dress he bought you recently and of course you complied.

It was a pink mini dress with short sleeves, a built in corset and a sweetheart neckline. On the back was a bow which made the dress perfect in Nate's eyes.

He wanted you to enter the school hand in hand with him, but you were scared that the students would react badly upon seeing you two together like this.

You usually always kept your distance when you walked down the halls with Nate, so that no one would even consider you two are together or that you like him.

Mostly because you were sure they would talk about you and make fun of you since you weren’t the type of girl a quarterback would date.

"Why not? Are you still scared of Cassie?" Nate asked as he focused on the road. Right.. Cassie

You totally forgot about Cassie "Oh my god, you're right, Cassie might see us together." Nate sighed as the car in front of him drove too slow which resulted in Nate reaching the red traffic lights.

But you felt like his sigh was directed towards you.

Nate placed his hand onto your thigh "Y/n... stop worrying about Cassie, I already told you that you don't need to be scared of her." he reminded you in the calmest way possible.

You smiled at him in an attempt to not anger or annoy him any further "Okay." you responded as you placed your hand on top of his. Once he started the car again, his eyes moved back to the road.

You couldn't believe how attractive Nate was.

Whether he was driving his car, playing football, or just simply sitting casually he always looked so good, you couldn't wrap your head around the fact that that was even possible. Just like right now, when he was sitting casually in his truck only wearing a simple black shirt and jeans.

Before you became Nate's girlfriend, you tried to subtly look at him whenever he did something attractive. But now you just stared at him whenever you felt like it, just like right now.

Nate looked towards you once he noticed, and smirked "What?" he asked as he stroked your thigh. "Nothing, I'm just looking at you." You admitted shyly. Nate chuckled before he looked at the road again, and even that was attractive.

"You're not looking, you're staring." he corrected you "I'm sorry, I'm just glad I can finally admire you." you explained as you smiled. "You were always allowed to admire me." Nate replied.

"It would've been weird back then though." You pouted "I've always admired you." Nate confessed as if it was the most obvious thing in the world "Ever since you first walked into the classroom that day." he added nonchalantly.

You mouth flew open in surprise. "Wait, seriously?" you asked. Nate nodded "I thought you were cute."

Obviously an understatement

Nate literally thought about turning you into his perfect little housewife the moment he talked to you in person. But he obviously couldn't tell you that.

"Aww, really?" You smiled shyly as you played with his fingers on your thigh. You couldn't believe Nate genuinely liked you from the start. Especially with the way you dressed back then, since he mentioned that your current style is way better than your previous one multiple times.

"And what do you think about me now? Am I still cute in your eyes?" you asked, genuinely curious if and how his opinion towards you changed.

"I still think you're cute, and you're the most beautiful girl I've ever seen." he said in that serious tone he sometimes used as he squeezed your thigh.

And he was dead serious.

You were his everything, his beautiful girl. Even when he sometimes raised his voice at you because he got really pissed during his football training, or because his dad was acting like an ass again.

He knew you wouldn't leave him. Simply because he gave you everything you didn't receive from your dad. Attention and mostly love. And even if you would leave him, you wouldn't be gone for long, because he was the only one who could make you happy.

And he loved it, he loved that you needed him, and that you did whatever he said, even if you sometimes didn't want to or felt uncomfortable. He felt bad sometimes, but shook the feeling off rather quickly.

And you'd always assure him that it's fine and that you weren't uncomfortable. Your face or body language said something else, but you agreed to everything to keep him happy. Sometimes he wanted to push you away just so that you'd cling onto him even more once he'd come back to you.

He wanted you to be as obsessed with him as he was with you, because that way you'd always stay with him, and leaving him wouldn't even be a possibility in the first place.

Once you and Nate entered the school hand in hand, like he wanted to, you tried to look ahead and not at the floor just like he told you to.

But that wasn't an easy task, when it seemed like all eyes were on you. The only thing that seemed to comfort you was that you had Nate by your side.

You couldn't get over the fact that he was so tall, and strong. Especially when he leaned down towards you when he spoke to you sometimes, or when he would laugh at silly things with you.

It made you forget that he was a scary jock in front of everyone else at school.

Nonetheless it definitely did some things to you whenever you realized how much bigger he was than you. But you'd never admit that out loud.

Once you reached your locker to get your book for chemistry, Nate looked around the two of you, he couldn't afford to let you bump into Cassie, not with how scared you were of her already.

And also not on your first day at school as his girlfriend. You were stressed enough already. He already considered talking to Cassie and warning her to stay away from the two of you.

While he looked around, his eyes landed on Lexi. She was walking towards your direction.

Once you closed the locker and looked at Nate, you saw him staring at someone passing by and looked into the direction he was looking at. The girl Nate was staring at seemed to stare back at him.

"Is that.. Cassie?" you asked carefully once she passed the two of you. You noticed how Nate clenched his jaw, when he stared at her so you figured he must know her.

"No, that's her fucking sister..." he mumbled before taking your hand back in his and walking towards your classroom.

After you finally made it to your classroom, Nate leaned down and grinned at you. "I'll see you later, yeah?" you nodded before he suddenly pressed a quick kiss onto your lips, without any warning.

"If anyone causes you any trouble, tell me." He added before he left the room. You were even more embarrassed now that probably everyone in your chemistry class saw you and Nate kiss.

But you figured you just had to get used to that now.

Aside from a few stares from the students, nothing spectacular happened, luckily. During lunch you and Nate sat with some of Nate’s ‘friends’, since he wanted to tell them about you two dating.

And after school you found yourself back in Nate's car, ready to drive home. "Don't be mad at me, but I bought you something." Nate randomly announced once he was on the road.

You sighed before throwing your head back. "Nate, we talked about this, I don't feel good when you spend so much money on me." Nate shook his head "Stop thinking of it that way, I like buying you things it makes me really happy, alright? I'm just glad I can spoil my favourite girl."

You smiled shyly as you looked out of the window, before you thought about what Maddy told you when she confronted you. And it wiped the smile off your face.

"All those things he does for you, are just another way for him to feel good about himself in some sick and twisted way. Why would he buy all these things for you?"

Even if that was true, what's so sick about it? Some men just are like that, it gives them some sort of validation when they are wealthy and can show off.

But if Maddy told you the truth about that, what else was true?

"Hey, did you listen to me?"

You flinched slightly as Nate placed his hand on your thigh again in an attempt to bring you back to reality. You slowly looked back at him.

"Is everything alright?" he asked, his expression showing signs of worry and confusion. "Yeah.. sure I just got lost in thoughts. I'm sorry, what did you say?"

Nate looked ahead of the road as he repeated what he said "I said I'll give you your present tomorrow when you come over after school." You furrowed your brows for a moment, since you were pretty sure he didn't ask you if you'd come over.

"When did you ask me if I wanna come over?" you asked confused. Nate chuckled "I didn't, I just figured you would."

Your frown disappeared and you nodded "Well, I would but you know how my mom is... I already went to your place last Friday and even slept over. I don't think she's going to allow me to do that again."

Nate's grip on the steering wheel tightened as he remembered your mom. God, if she knew you two are in a relationship she’d probably get a fucking heartattack.

"What if I ask your dad again?" he asked genuinely considering it, even though he wanted to kill the man whenever he just looked at him. "I don't think that's a good idea. He forgot to tell my mom about your 'party' until she complained to him about me not responding to her. She literally almost drove to your place because of that."

Nate let out an exasperated sigh when he heard that. That man really was good for nothing.

"And also, I don't even think he's home today, he's on some business trip until Wednesday." you shrugged. Nate tried to think of a solution, but the only thing he could think of was asking his mom to talk to yours, and convince her that her son isn't a serial killer or a threat to her precious daughter.

Or he could talk to her himself but he was pretty sure it wouldn't change anything. "That sucks... You think my mom could change her mind? Maybe talk to her and tell her that I'm just a normal teenager?"

You thought for a moment before you shrugged again. "Maybe.. that actually sounds like a good idea, maybe if your mom meets mine she becomes more like yours.. That would be awesome." you sighed.

"How about... you and your mom come over tomorrow? And we just let them talk for a bit while we go up to my room?" he offered.

You thought for a moment before you smiled back at him "That’s also a good idea, but I'm feeling adventurous today." you announced sarcastically as you placed your hand on his thigh this time.

Nate chuckled as he looked down at his thigh, not used to you touching him there "What do you mean by that?" he asked sheepishly. "Don't drive me home just yet... drive to yours first. I want to stay at yours for a bit. I'll just tell my mom I'm at yours to study."

Nate was surprised but he loved how you'd lie to your mother just to spend time with him. And of course he wouldn't turn you down. "Alright, Princess." He smiled before he switched lanes to drive to his place.

After you arrived at his place, he parked his car and told you to go ahead to his door, since he still had to get your presents out of his truck.

Once he grabbed the bags and locked the doors, he walked towards the door with two bags in his hands and a smile on his face when he saw the surprise on your face.

When Nate said that he bought you a 'present', singular, you expected only one present. So him suddenly carrying two medium sized shopping bags made you hope that at last one of the bags was for his mother.

"That isn't all for me.. right?" you chuckled nervously. Nate smirked and placed the shopping bags down before fetching his key and unlocking the door.

His silence was answer enough though.

Once you walked inside and took your shoes off, you turned towards Nate "Are your parents home?" You whispered. Nate shrugged "I don't think so... maybe my mom." he said before walking into the living room to check if anyone was home.

You took the time to text your mom that you'd be 'studying at Nate's'.

you: I'm staying at Nate's after school. We need to study for our maths exam on Thursday. 2:48 pm

He came back eventually and shook his head "Seems like we're alone." he smirked before he wrapped his arms around your waist and leaned down.

You giggled before your hands moved to his shoulder "Yeah seems like it.." you trailed off as you stared at his lips and Nate asked himself why couldn't it always be like this?

You two, alone, at peace in his house.

He leaned down further and rested his head into the crook of your neck. "You're not gonna fall asleep now, are you?" you joked.

He hummed before he pressed soft kisses onto your neck. You smiled and chuckled at the tingly feeling before he raised his head just lightly to kiss you on the lips as well, and you kissed him back this time.

You wanted to kiss him sooner, but you didn't have the courage to initiate it. Once he broke the kiss he smiled down at you "Let's go upstairs, you need to unpack your presents." He smirked, before he picked up the two bags, and walked upstairs with you.

After you entered his room and plopped down on his bed sitting cross legged, Nate closed the door behind him, before joining you. Without a word he handed you one of the shopping bags and propped himself up on one arm, watching your reaction intently.

You looked at him "Thank you... A lot, but slow down with the gifts, alright? I don't want you to get into trouble because you keep making impulsive purchases." He smiled at you knowing that they weren't impulsive at all.

He planned everything he bought you thoroughly. Everything he gifted you, was given to you at the right moment. The clothes, the shoes, the jewelry, everything.

He made a mental checklist to buy you everything you needed to be his perfect girlfriend.

"I won't get in trouble don't worry, I know what I'm doing." he assured you. You finally sighed before you opened the shopping bag already expecting way too expensive gifts.

The first thing you saw was a piece of clothing in pastel pink. You pulled it out and revealed a beautiful rose coloured satin night gown with a black lace trim at the bottom. Your eyes lit up as you touched the material "Oh my god that's so beautiful! It's way too pretty to sleep in it." You remarked.

Nate smiled "I bought it for you to wear when you sleep over, in case you don’t have anything to sleep in like last time." he explained "I saw it when I walked through the mall on Saturday and thought you'd look beautiful in it." he added as his hand rested on your thigh again.

"Thank you... that's so sweet.." You smiled as you leaned down to kiss him. Then you moved your attention back to the bag, grabbing the next item that fell into your hands.

You were confused at first, because you held onto a golden chain but you soon realized the chain was connected to a bag. It was a black small sized leather bag with a v shaped pattern and you swallowed harshly when you noticed the golden YSL logo on the front of it.

You slowly looked towards Nate who's thumb was stroking along your thigh "You're joking..." you said nervously. Nate shook his head, his brows furrowed as he looked towards the bag and then back at you "What's wrong? You don't like it?" he asked.

You shook your head "No, Nate it's just.. do you still have the receipt?" Nate suddenly sat up as he inspected the bag "What is it, is it broken or something?" he asked as he turned the bag and looked at each angle. "Nate, look at me."

He quickly averted his gaze from the bag and looked at you "That's literally way too expensive. You know, making gifts for each other is one thing but that bag probably cost way too much." Nate frowned "If you don't think it's pretty you can tell me, you know?"

You groaned before responding "This isn't what it's about I think the bag is really pretty, but-" "Alright then, do me a favour and just wear it. It's totally normal for a boyfriend to gift his girlfriend expensive things, okay? I know it might be depicted differently in the movies you watch or whatever, but if a guy has enough money he does that for his girlfriend."

You thought for a moment, maybe he was right. How would you know? You haven't been in a relationship so far. But nonetheless, that bag must've been expensive enough and you haven't even unpacked all of your presents.

"Alright... I'm sorry I've never been in a relationship so this seems like... a lot..." you stroked his cheek softly before you added "I'll accept your gifts, but promise me that you'll tone it down a bit.. alright?" You asked gently, as to not upset him in any way. He nodded slowly as he smiled sadly in response "Alright, I get it..."

He didn't, not really.

He thought women loved gifts, especially expensive bags, perfume and jewelry. He knew that he didn't do it to make you happy, it was easy to make you happy, just by spending time with you, listening to you and making you laugh.

He obviously did it for himself. He was the one who could afford to buy his girl all the pretty things, and you'd wear them in return, enhancing your femininity.

But he also kinda expected you to simply accept his gifts without a second thought, and fall into his arms and squeal about how you love him.

"I'm absolutely grateful for your gifts don't get me wrong, but no matter what you tell me.. I wouldn't be able to sleep at night knowing you spend so much money on me all the time." you reasoned.

"Yeah, I guess that makes sense, I'm sorry.." he said as he sighed dramatically. "It's fine, we're in a relationship. We should talk about what's bothering us... I think that's where many people fail.."

Why were you more mature than both of your parents?

You sat up straight again and continued to unpack your presents. The next thing you pulled out was a small box. Upon further inspection you noticed that it's perfume.

Your eyes lit up as you squeaked. This was the reaction Nate was talking about, he was glad you didn't disappoint him after all.

"Oh my god, you didn't!" you exclaimed as you read 'Daisy Marc Jacobs Ever So Fresh' quickly discarding the plastic wrapper before opening the packaging. You loved perfume, you had a shelf in your room which contained everything you collected. From movies, to albums and vinyls to perfume.

You had at least 15 flacons in your shelf ranging from pricey to not so expensive. Some of them completely empty, some only half, so your knowledge regarding perfume was pretty comprehensive.

You contemplated buying the exact same scent a few weeks ago but you decided not to because you wanted to safe your money for more important things.

You fell into Nate's arms just like he anticipated before you pressed several kisses onto his cheek. Then you opened the flacon before spraying the scent onto your wrists and your neck, smiling as you took in the scent.

It smelled so sweet and mostly fruity, you loved it. "I was about to buy this a few weeks ago when we went shopping!" You exclaimed.

Nate knew that, of course.

He always had his eyes on you when you two went to the mall, taking notes of things you seemed to show interest in. And when he went alone and tested the scent, he just knew he had to buy it for you. He loved fruity, flowery, feminine scents on girls so this one was just perfect.

And he remembered how you once talked five minutes about all sorts of perfumes and fragrances with him in his truck on your way home from the mall.

"Wait, really? That's an insane coincidence.. I just randomly saw it and remembered how you talked about that one scent you loved from Marc Jacobs so I figured I couldn't go wrong with that one." he lied shamelessly.

Well, to be fair it did happen.

You told him how much you love Carolina Herrera's scents and that you absolutely love the 'perfect intense' by Marc Jacobs, before jokingly asking him if they were related because of the same surname.

But that didn't change the fact that he only bought it because he liked it and wanted you to wear it. Not because you liked it.

You squeaked once more, still not over the fact that Nate actually got you that perfume. You looked at Nate, your eyes full of adoration as you once again leaned in to press a passionate kiss onto his lips.

The fact that he bought it because he remembered you liked Marc Jacobs seemed so romantic to you.

Once you broke the kiss, Nate smiled before gesturing towards the other shopping bag "One more to go." he said.

You put your presents back into the bag and placed it down before you picked up the second one, noting that it wasn't as heavy as the other one, so you assumed it must be clothing. You excitedly pulled out the next item, confirming your assumption.

A white lace trim minidress with a built in corset rests in your hands, similar to the one you were currently wearing. "Aw, how pretty... I love it." You exclaimed as you placed it next to you, before pressing another kiss to his cheek.

You put your hand back into the bag but Nate stopped you. You turned to him with a puzzled expression "Before you take out the next thing, I have to tell you something." You pulled your hand out and turned towards him.

He seemed more serious now as he continued "It's... lingerie..." your eyes widened "They sold it along with the nightgown as a set. I could've left it there but I would've paid the same price so I thought I'd just take it and ask you if you want it.." he explained.

He might’ve manipulated the truth a little bit, because the woman at the shop told him he didn’t have to buy it along with the nightgown and that it’s just from the same collection.

But a little lie wouldn’t hurt and besides, he couldn’t just buy you lingerie so early into the relationship and expect you to think it’s normal.

You’d think it would be weird and he’d have to pull the ‘This is completely normal, it’s just your first relationship’ card again and lie anyways.

You nodded, while avoiding eye contact. Who knows maybe it wasn't that bad. Your hand wandered back into the back as you braced yourself for what was coming.

You pulled out a rose bra with black embroidery around the cups and a small bow in the middle, and matching panties in the same colour with a lace trim on top.

Nate swallowed harshly as he imagined you inside it sprawled out on his bed while you- "It's really pretty actually.." you stated quietly.

Nate pushed his thoughts aside as he searched your face for any signs of discomfort. You also imagined yourself wearing it but you couldn't tell if it would look pretty on you. "I just don't know... if it would suit me." you chuckled nervously

"Then try it on and I'll tell you." Nate blurted out. You blinked at him with widened eyes. He cursed himself for being so straight forward but God, he really wanted to see you in that set.

You knew what you looked like in underwear, and you were absolutely insecure about being this exposed in front of someone like Nate.

Someone who always seemed so perfect in each and every angle, and paid so much attention to the way his body looked, wanted to see you in underwear?

"I mean.. sorry... I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable... You don't have to of course." Nate quickly dismissed. You immediately shook your head "No, no.. I want to but... I'm scared you won't like what you'll see..."

Nate shook his head "You're beautiful, there's no way that's gonna happen. I already told you, you're the most beautiful girl to me." he said as he softly stroked your cheek.

You sighed before nodding your head "Alright... I'll go and try it on for you, yeah?" Nate nodded as a smile made its way onto his face. You grabbed the two items and made your way into the bathroom, closing the door behind you.

'I'll go and try it on for you'

'for you'

Fuck he was head over heels for you.

Nate had to process the fact that his pretty girl was about to be in front of him half naked only for him. He knew you were a keeper.

You slowly undressed as you stood in front the big mirror above his sink. You tried to push the negative thoughts away as you stood there still in your own underwear, but it was so hard.

What if you'd just get dressed again and tell Nate you couldn't do it? He wouldn't be mad right? But you didn't want to disappoint him, he seemed genuinely excited and you also felt somewhat excited to show up in front of him only wearing lingerie.

After contemplating for nearly 5 minutes, and Nate already asking if you were fine, you finally put on the lingerie. You couldn't lie, it really suited you well. You weren't sure how Nate was always able to get your size right all the time.

It already surprised you when he bought you dresses and skirts, but the fact that he even got you underwear in your size was astonishing to you.

You walked over to the door before your fingers shakily reached over to the doorknob. You took one finally breath before opening the door as quietly as you could, hoping deep down he wouldn't notice and you could miraculously escape the situation.

But as if he sensed your presence his head immediately shot up. His mouth was slightly agape as his eyes seemed to undress you even further. He was now sitting on the edge of his bed.

You just stood there, fidgeting with your hands as you looked to the ground, while Nate tried to come up with literally anything to say other than I wanna fuck you so bad right now, please have my babies.

And the throbbing in his pants didn't make it any easier for him.

He inhaled sharply before finally breaking the silence. "Thank God I brought it along... I mean, fuck just look at you... it was literally made for you... You're so beautiful I... I can't even- I don't even know what to say..." he chuckled as he rambled.

You chuckled shyly, before Nate added "Come here, Sweetheart.." his hand was itching to touch you so bad that he had to grip his knee to steady himself.

He wasn't used to being so desperate for someone, it made him feel like he lost control. And he couldn't even be mad at you because you had no idea what you did to him.

You on the other hand felt way better than you thought you would. The way Nate looked at you right now, was different than his usual loving gaze. He looked like he wanted to devour you and it made you feel both scared and excited.

Nate finally spoke up again "Is it okay if I touch you?" he sounded so gentle and desperate as if he'd lose it if you say no.

He'd never admit it but in moments like these where he had to ask you for permission, he was at your mercy whether he liked it or not.

You nodded, not even asking where he wanted to touch you, because you definitely wanted him to touch you.

He sighed in relief before placing his hands on your waist. You inhaled sharply when you felt his big hands on you, not used to anyone touching your bare skin. Especially not while you're in lingerie.

The moment he felt how unbelievably soft your skin was, he was sure he wouldn't survive a day without touching you.

He looked up at you, in order to see if he's gone too far. But when he saw the way you looked at him, he was sure that he did everything right.

His hands wandered south, down your hips until they stopped at your thighs, squeezing the flesh gently. "If you want me to stop, or if you feel uncomfortable tell me, yeah?" he said, his tone more serious.

You nodded "It... feels good." you whispered, more to yourself than to him "What feels good?" he asked just as quiet "The way you touch me.. and everything..." you trailed off.

So fucking cute again...

He just wanted to lift you onto his lap and make out with you until both of you are out of breath, but he was sure you'd feel how bricked up he was right now and get scared.

"Do you want me to make you feel even better?" he smirked and your eyes widened since you could only assume what he meant by that and the thought scared you.

The ache between your thighs told you to say yes and allow him to make you feel even better, and you were so curious to see how'd it feel to have him explore your body.

But it scared you because you literally just had your first kiss not even a week ago. You figured however that Nate was used to having sex regularly, and he might've repressed his urges for a long time now because he never mentioned hooking up with anyone.

Not like you wouldn't have noticed with how much time you two spent together.

Nate's smirk slowly faded when you didn't show any reaction. He knew how inexperienced and nervous you were, so why did he ask you that? He was sure that he's gone too far this time.

That was until you leaned down and pulled him into a passionate kiss. It caught him off guard since he thought you'd go back to the bathroom, get dressed again and leave instantly.

He quickly recovered though, and wrapped his arms around your back, pulling you closer. He smoothly nudged his tongue against your lips, asking for entrance.

Once you opened your mouth your tongues were tangling almost right away. Your arms were wrapped around Nate's neck as you made out, and you didn't even notice how heavy you were breathing.

Nate pulled away first before he hooked his arm behind one of your knees to pull you onto the bed, laying you flat onto your back before he hovered over you. "Can I.. take your shirt off?" he nodded.

He loved how submissive you were and how polite you remained even in the current situation, still asking him for permission.

You softly tugged on his shirt too shy to remove it quickly, until he grew too impatient and helped you, he pulled it off before tossing it on the ground somewhere behind him.

All you could think when you saw his muscular torso was Wow... what did I do to get this lucky? as you gawked shamelessly at him.

"You're staring again, Baby..." he smirked before leaning down to kiss and suck on your neck, making you whine in the process and he absolutely loved the sound.

"What do you expect me... to do when you look like this?" You tried to defend yourself. When Nate took notice of how much you were squirming below him, he slid his hand from your cheek over the valley of your breasts down to the waistband of your panties.

His eyes left yours as he slipped his hand into your panties. You gasped as you instinctively gripped his arm. Nate frowned before he halted his actions "Are you okay?" you nodded slowly "I just... I got scared for a second, I'm sorry."

Nate pressed a kiss to your lips before he tried to calm you down again "I'll be gentle, it'll feel good I promise... Have you ever touched yourself?" You did not expect him to ask that right before he was about to touch you.

You nodded "Yes.. but not often... It didn't feel that good.." You hoped that Nate didn't think you were weird for thinking it didn't feel good.

It wasn't like you didn't try to enjoy it, but you couldn't even relax when you tried it, because your mom would just burst into your room without knocking sometimes, even when Nate wasn't at your place.

"Do you trust me?" He asked as he searched for your eyes. "Yes, sure... I'm just not sure if I'll be able to relax.." You frowned.

"What if someone comes in?" you added, getting flashbacks from the time your mom almost caught you with your hand inside your panties.

Nate shook his head "I locked the door when you went to the bathroom earlier. I didn't want anyone else to see how pretty you looked in your lingerie." he assured you with a smirk.

You nodded understandingly. "We'll just try and if it doesn't work today, we'll try again." he reassured you, before kissing that special spot on your neck again, taking in the scent of the perfume he got you.

When he was sure you felt comfortable enough he whispered into your ear "Spread your legs for me, Baby." Just like on command your shaky legs parted for him.

He couldn't believe how good you were for him, despite being nervous and scared you trusted him so much.

And when he finally moved his hand further into your panties he also noticed that you were in fact shaved. And he sighed in relief.

There was nothing he hated more than body hair on girls.

He remembered dropping subtle hints or jokes about it, and asking you if you didn't wear dresses and skirts because it meant you had to shave your legs, in order to find out if you did shave or if you were absolutely opposed to it.

He knew exactly what he was doing, and he was so proud when you wore a skirt for the first time and your legs were shaved.

And he was even more proud right now.

It didn't take long until he felt how wet you were for him, he barely did anything yet you were so desperate for him. "Fuck, you're so wet already." he cursed, and you weren't sure whether that's a good thing or not. What if he thought you’re too desperate? "I'm sorry.."

Nate chuckled, amused by your reaction "Don't be, it's a good thing... just shows me how much you want me."

He slid his finger up and down your slit, collecting your wetness on his fingers as you released breathy quiet moans.

You had to fight the urge to clamp your legs around his hand once he toyed with your clit, and he was so right. It did feel amazing.

You continued to squirm as you desperately searched for more, and it drove Nate crazy how needy you were for him and how much he was in control of your body.

He knew you wouldn't last long with the way your breathing picked up more and more. He considered teasing and edging you for a moment, just to see how you'd react.

Especially because you looked so pretty when you held onto his shoulder for dear life as you whined.

He was sure you’d look just as pretty with tears streaming down your face caused by your desperation for him.

But he decided to insert his finger into your fluttering hole, just to see if he could get you to moan his name. Once he was inside, he saw how your eyes widened and you stiffened for a moment "Relax.. Everything is alright." he cooed.

It felt like he was hypnotizing you, with each word, each touch and each slip of his finger as he searched for your sweet spot.

"How's it feel?" he asked as he felt how you clenched around his finger. You tried to find the right words but your thoughts were clouded with how good you felt right now "So good... I never... felt like this." you mumbled.

Nate smirked as he slowly inserted a second finger “I told you it’d feel good.” he retorted.

When you moaned all of a sudden he was sure he found it, angling his fingers so that he would push against it with each thrust "Oh fuck... Nate!" You moaned as you tried to stay sane.

Nate also almost moaned along with you when he heard how desperately you moaned his name. Now he knew that you sounded even better than he imagined. He wasn't sure how much longer he could wait until he'd lose it.

you were on the verge of tears as you felt your orgasm approaching. You involuntarily clutched harder on his shoulder "Nate.. Nate!" you tried to warn him but he already knew you were close.

"Look at me... I want you to look at me when you cum." He groaned, and that was all it took to push you over the edge, as you desperately tried to keep your glossy eyes open.

You were shaking violently, falling apart because of how intense your orgasm was. Nate helped you ride out your orgasm as you still clutched onto his shoulder for dear life, unable to suppress your moans.

He slowly removed his coated fingers from you before leaning down towards your ear “How’re you feeling?” He whispered into your ear before kissing your neck once again.

You were so sensitive from your orgasm that that was enough to rip a moan from you “Amazing…” you panted as you tried to breathe normally again.

Nate really wanted to go all the way, especially because he felt like he’d explode if he didn’t get any action on his behalf soon.

“Do you.. want me to continue?” he looked at you, silently begging you to say yes. And you really couldn’t deny him that, especially not when you looked down and noticed how big the bulge in his pants seemed to be.

He obviously saw the way you nervously eyed his crotch, and he was quick to reassure you as well “I know you’re scared and that’s totally normal, yeah?” but please let me fuck you already was what he wanted to say but couldn’t.

The view was driving him absolutely insane. You looked so small below him, so fragile. He knew he could absolutely break you right now if he wanted to, he was in control of you and you didn’t even realize it.

“I-it’s fine… I trust you after all..” you softly responded, as you weakly smiled up at him.

Maybe it was the fact that you just had the best orgasm ever and wanted to know what it would feel like to have him inside of you, or the fact that Nate would be so proud of you if you’d let him take your virginity, but you wanted it nonetheless.

Nate smiled back at you as he stroked his thumb over your cheek, resulting in your closing your eyes as you relaxed into his touch.

Fuck, he didn’t deserve you, deep down he knew that. But he spoiled you so much, it had to make up for all the bad things, right?

When you suddenly didn't feel him near you anymore, you opened your eyes again. He was climbing off the bed before he undid the button of his jeans and pulled down the zipper.

You gulped when he stepped out of his jeans and was about to remove his boxers, which already gave you a preview of how big he was. You quickly looked to the other side as he groaned once his boxers came off.

Nate smirked at your shy reaction "Y/n..?" he asked playfully "Yeah..?" you said as you kept your gaze locked to the wall. "Look at me." he commanded, and for the first time you considered disobeying him.

It seemed to hit you just now, that you were laying inside Nate Jacob's bed, and he was about to take your virginity. Not to mention that you've never seen a dick in real life and the outline of it was already enough to scare you.

After you finally looked over at Nate you tried to focus on his face, not daring to look down. And Nate loved how absolutely terrified you looked just because he was naked in front of you.

He was sure you never tried to maintain eye contact as much as you were in this moment.

"You're not scared of me, right?" he chuckled darkly as he walked closer to the bed and you immediately shook your head. But your eyes couldn't hide the fact that you were freaking out internally.

"Give me your hand."

You slowly extended your shaky hand towards him, until he reached for it and without any warning, wrapped it around his length before hissing. "Fuck.. do you feel that?"

He threw his head back as you tried to get used to the feeling, he felt heavy in your hand and you were almost 100% sure that he would never fit inside you. Not when you already felt full when he pushed two fingers inside.

"Y-yes.." You stuttered "That's all because of you... You did this to me, sweetheart." he rasped "I'm sorry.." you whispered meekly.

Nate couldn't believe that you were apologizing for that as well, but he definitely had nothing against it.

"Why aren't you looking at me?" he asked as he looked down at your hand wrapped around his length. "I am looking at you.." you smiled nervously. "No... not really." he smirked down at you. "Look at the problem you caused." he added.

You slowly averted your gaze down until it landed on said problem. You had seen it in your peripheral vision already but seeing it in its full glory was something you weren't prepared for.

The way you fell completely silent and just stared at it in awe had him contemplating whether he should ask you to suck him off or not.

But he decided it'd be best to do that another time.

"I... don't think that'll fit inside me to be honest.." you chuckled nervously as you started to stroke him. Nate chuckled softly "Yeah don't worry about that, I'll make it fit."

Your shy and somewhat scared reaction towards how big he was boosted his ego so much. Nate knew he was big but to see the fear on your features really set something in him off.

He slowly made his way back into his bed, before kneeling between your legs and finally removing your new but already soiled panties. Before you could react to that however, he bent down slightly just to pull you flush against him.

You were confused at first until you felt his hands on your back near your bra strap. You inhaled sharply when you felt his hands unhooking your bra, and once he removed the bra you quickly covered yourself with your arms.

Sure, he's done far 'worse' stuff with you until now, but you were still insecure and now fully naked in front of him, unable to hide behind any piece of clothing.

Nate frowned when he noticed how uncomfortable you were again. "Y/n... What's wrong? Do I make you uncomfortable?" he sighed.

And you hated that damn sigh so much, because whenever he sighed like that it meant he's disappointed or frustrated or even annoyed.

And you didn't want to be the reason he's disappointed or annoyed, you didn't want him to think you're annoying. "No! That's not it.. I just... I've never been naked in front of anyone, I'm sorry.."

You nervously chewed on your bottom lip as you waited for Nate to say something, anything.

And after a seemingly never ending moment of silence, he asked another question "Do you trust me?" he had asked you that before, but in the current situation it carried even more weight than it did earlier.

And you had to think for a moment.

Sure you trusted Nate, but why did you feel so weird under his gaze? Why were you scared that he'd judge you based on what your boobs looked like? Has he ever judged you for your body before?

Nate never made any negative remarks towards your appearance, except the way you used to dress of course, but other than that it was the opposite actually. He told you you were pretty so many times and you just dismissed it in your head.

But what if he actually thought you're pretty? It would frustrate you too if Nate, who you think is perfect, would criticize his appearance all the time.

Maybe it was time to finally enjoy yourself for once and push your insecurities to the side, just this one time.

You smiled at him as you removed your arms from your breasts and cupped his cheeks. "Yes, I trust you." Nate loved how confidently you said that, he knew you truly meant it, even though your response took you a little too long for him.

He crashed his lips against yours for a quick kiss before he softly laid you down again, as he admired your body. He was finally about to make you his, about to take your purity away from you.

He reached over to his bedside table and pulled the drawer open to retrieve a condom, before ripping the packaging open and tossing it onto the bedside table. Then he rolled the condom on as he looked at you with hooded eyes.

You gulped at the intensity of his gaze as you waited for him to do or say anything. Nate leaned down, as he hovered over you with his tall figure, before he grabbed both of your thighs and spread them further apart.

He cursed under his breath as he noticed you were even wetter than before. "Are you ready?" he asked lowly before moving even closer, as the head of his cock teased your clit.

You whined as you nodded, not sure if you were actually ready or just unbelievably needy. "I need you to tell me that you're ready." he said as he kissed along your collarbone and your chest.

"Yeah... 'm ready." you quietly confirmed as your hand found its place on Nate's shoulder once again. "Listen... it's probably gonna hurt a little bit at first." you nodded as you took a deep breath "It's okay.. I'll try to stay strong." you reassured him.

Of course you would, you were his good girl after all.

He nodded as he wrapped his hand around his length, before he finally tried to enter you. Emphasis on 'tried' because, fuck your were so tight. He tried to spread your legs a little further apart, but not enough to hurt you.

"Sweetheart, you need to relax for me, okay? It's not gonna work otherwise." You took another deep breath, trying to relax your muscles. Then he tried again and he was finally able to push into you.

You instantly whimpered at the seemingly never ending stretch. Nate hissed before he looked back at your face, taking in the way you tried to stay strong for him. Just as much as he tried to stay strong because, again, you were so fucking tight.

"Fuck..." he cursed as he stilled for a moment. "Are you okay?" he asked as he looked into your teary eyes. You nodded silently as you tried to smile up at him.

He wasn't even fully inside yet, and you were already on the verge of tears. "I'm sorry it hurts so much..." he whispered as he kissed your cheek "If it's too much then tell me, yeah?" you nodded once again.

After you assured him that you're fine, he continued pushing into you, until you whimpered again. He was almost fully inside but he knew better than to ignore your discomfort. He saw how a single tear rolled down the side of your face.

You hated how sensitive you were, and how much it hurt. You wondered if Nate was annoyed as well, if he'd prefer someone who was more experienced?

But Nate was more than happy that you weren’t experienced and still pure, and not just acting like you were, like Maddy did when she lied about being a virgin for example.

Nate could see the frustration in your eyes. You nodded at him again, telling him to continue as you tried to ignore the pain. He continued until he was finally fully inside you.

He kissed your forehead before he kissed your lips passionately, and you felt so full at the moment you weren't even sure how to comprehend that.

It felt really unusual and you had to get used to the feeling, but you were so glad when it didn't hurt as much as it did in the beginning. Once Nate felt you relax against him some more, he started moving.

Pulling out of you just a little bit before pushing into you again. He repeated that motion until broken moans left your lips. He knew that you felt better so he went slightly faster “Feel good?” he asked, despite knowing the answer “Mhm.” you hummed before moaning when Nate delivered a particularly hard thrust.

He lifted your legs higher in order to push even deeper into you and you moaned at how good he made you feel. “Nate.. please go faster.” You mewled.

Nate complied, it was his mission to get you to cum again before he did. His thumb flew to your clit, rubbing circles against it. You were sure you never moaned this loud in your life, and you were also sure that you never felt like this before.

Nate loved how loud you got, secretly hoping that his brother was home and heard you. “Fuck… Nate!” you nearly cried as you felt yourself getting close to your second orgasm.

Nate breathed heavily as he gripped your thighs so harshly that he was sure he’d leave bruises, but you were too far gone to even think about that.

When he felt your walls pulsating around him, he knew you were close, and so was he but he wouldn’t be a real man if he’d finish before you. He groaned as he picked up the pace once more, pushing you into your second orgasm, groaning when you clenched down on him as you came.

Your eyes rolled back as you moaned while Nate grunted, his pace not faltering as he was chasing his own release. Shortly after he was twitching inside of you, and after one last harsh thrust he hid his face in the crook of your neck and groaned while he spurted his release into the condom.

“Fuck…” Nate groaned once he was finally done. He was absolutely sure he never came this much because of anyone else before.

He slowly pulled out of you, before removing the condom and getting up to dispose it in the trash bin. When he turned around, you were still laying in the same position he left you in with your eyes closed.

To say that you felt sore and absolutely tired would be an understatement, you felt so worn out but in the best way possible.

Nate however felt absolutely energetic, he achieved so much today that he wasn’t sure how to contain his happiness. He corrupted you, stole your purity and your innocence and he knew that you enjoyed it. He walked back to his bed and leaned down to stroke your cheek “Are you alright?”

You grinned up at him and nodded slowly, not bothering to open your eyes. He knew you were still on cloud 9 with the way you grinned at him, so he decided to go downstairs to get you a glass of water. He gently covered you with his blanket when he noticed how you shivered, before picking his shirt up and putting it back on.

Then he made his way to his closet and took out a pair of grey sweats. Once he put them on, he walked towards his door “I’ll be right back, okay?” you hummed in response before he left.

You tried to fight the urge to just fall asleep on his bed, but it was pretty much useless with how tired you were. Your eyes felt so heavy that you just couldn’t open them, and you also had no strength left to move.

Not to mention that you weren’t able to form a single coherent thought at the moment.

You sighed as you slowly drifted off to sleep.

✎ Thank you guys so much for reading this part, as always feedback is gladly appreciated (and needed because I feel like the smut part was weird hhh) ♡

- Cassandra

Taglist:

@lilyrachelcassidy, @endless----love, @sophsss867, @jennnsthings, @digitalpup444, @ves3n, @tsofo26, @lunalvrsblog, @sunshinedaisy21

[ahgasegotarmy116]

Deja Vu | Jeon Jungkook | One Shot

Summary: Life hadn't gone down the path you had hoped for but the one who made that choice for you isn't someone you want to see ever again. Pairing: f!reader x Jungkook, childhood friends Word Count: 3k~ a/n: I wrote this last night in one go so I figured I might as well post it...let me know if you guys would like to see this from Jungkook's pov 👀 p.s. I got lazy and hardly edited this but I hope you guys like it lol Oh and this is loosely based off of the very beginning of Deja Vu by Tomorrow x Together

My fingers ghost along the spines of the books I pass by, looking for something that might catch my eye because yes sometimes I do judge a book by it's cover.

Finding one that seems interesting enough I turn it over, reading the summary of the fifth romance novel I've picked up since I've been here but when the bell on the door jingles giving notice of a newcomer I turn to see who it is...and I really I wish I hadn't.

My palms instantly clam up leaving me nervously wiping them off on my sweater so I don't damage the book but I can't let go of it since it's my only form of shelter, hiding in plain sight from the person I hoped to never see again.

Curiosity get's the best of me though, watching as he sits down and pulls out his laptop at one of the tables in this cafe bookstore hybrid, one of my favorites places in the city that I'll probably never come to again in fear of running into him.

He pulls a camera out of his bag and takes the memory card out before putting it in his computer to upload it's contents.

I guess he did end up becoming a photographer like he always wanted.

It's strange seeing someone who was so important to you for so many years become someone you barely even recognize. But that's the thing, I do recognize him and I hate the fact that no matter how hard I try I can't help think of him often. How is he doing? What does his life look like now? Has he finally found someone to love like I have?

Seeing him makes me doubt everything though, but that's just what he does. He makes it impossible for me not to be drawn to him, wanting to talk to him, to laugh with him, to be with him.

I thought I had moved past that. Thought that this silly little childhood crush had been nothing but that, a stupid crush that I finally grew out of.

But seeing him here tells me it's everything but that.

I look from him to the book I'm hiding behind, trying to distract myself and with the amount of effort I'm putting in it actually works...for a little while.

My eyes are begging me to let them wander again, indulge in the desire to observe him even if nothing comes from it and once I decide that one more look can't hurt instead of meeting his brows furrowed in concentration I meet his eyes.

His soft chocolate brown eyes that I've willed myself not to drown in time and time again are looking back at me, a soft smile reaching his lips when he finally sees me notice him making me sick to my stomach. 

Turning as subtly as I can I walk further into the maze of shelves around me, praying his interest in me was only fleeting and that he in fact did not recognize me.

After a few minutes of hiding in the corner that not many notice as it's a rather unpopular genre I let out the breath that I had decided to hold at some point, my need to be invisible necessary to my survival but when I decide the coast is clear and walk out of my little nook I bump into the exact person I wish I had never met all those years ago.

He holds onto my forearm as he sees me stumble back, unsure of if this minor collision would result in a fall and with his help, that I hate to admit I needed in the moment, prevents that mortifying occurrence from happening.

"I'm sorry that was my fault" he says and lets go of my arm, thankfully noticing how uncomfortable I am with his touch from my body language. "No it was mine, I should've been more careful coming out from behind that corner" I admit, a common courtesy after interactions like this, neither one wanting to admit it was the other persons fault.

"Well regardless I'm sorry" he says and I nod my head, looking down at the floor to avoid giving him a chance to recognize me. "I'm glad I caught you though, a fall against a bookshelf doesn't sound the most desirable" he chuckles, hoping to diffuse the awkward air around us but there's no use in him trying. He made that decision for the both of us a long time ago...

*Seven years ago*

"Please say something" I mumble, the five feet between us feeling like we're lightyears away, the silence a twin to the vacuum that is space.

He's right there but I know I've lost him for good with this stupid decision. "I don't know what to say" he mumbles right back leaving me scoffing in disbelief. "Then make something up. Anything is better than this" I say in reference to the radio silence between us since I decided to confess to him.

I know I shouldn't have done it. I know I'm selfish for telling him after all of these years and not simply fessing up to how I felt about him long ago but I was afraid that something like this might happen, and I was right. 

I hate that when it comes to him that I'm always right.

I could let us part ways and go to college leaving things left unsaid but I stupidly hoped that we could make it work. Do long distance so we wouldn't feel the need to go on dates or even worry about getting physical if it got to that point.

In my silly little crush clouded brain I thought that he would at least give us a shot but I know it was useless.

I know he doesn't feel the same way about me but I didn't realize it was gonna be this fucking hard.

"Just say something!" I say, raising my voice at him since I need to do something to keep myself from suffocating. "What do you fucking want me to say?" he throws back, getting just as upset but he has no reason to be acting like this, not when he holds our future in the palm of his hand.

"Say you don't like me, say you're not into me like that because from this reaction alone I know you probably don't feel the same way! Anything but this..." I say, my tone harsh but softening at the end, wanting to be mad at him but he's done nothing wrong. 

Nothing except for giving me false hope that we could be something more.

"I don't know how I feel about you" he admits and I scoff. "Well when you figure it out, you know where to find me" I say and pick up my bag that I had discarded on the table I had been sat on, waiting for him to finally show up.

I had decided to do this off campus.

We're seniors and although the rumors and humiliation from his rejection wouldn't go around for long it wasn't worth it to have the off chance of an audience.

No doubt they'll still circulate since the two of us have been conjoined at the hip since childhood but keeping the actual event from prying eyes was the best I could do.

I take one last look at him but his eyes are turned down, not even able to look me and so I walk to my car as fast as I can, holding back the stupid fucking tears that I told myself I would never cry.

I've always been told that boys aren't worth my tears, but he's not just some boy...

*Back to present time*

"Right um, thanks" I say and continue to look at my shoes, noticing the small scuff marks that I had accumulated from the many trips out I had taken them on, anything to distract myself from the man in front of me.

"I uh, I noticed you reading over there," he says, waving towards the general direction he had seen me at, "thought I would come over and introduce myself" he says, not letting me go with that simple apology for the unfortunate opening to us meeting again, though he doesn't know yet that we have absolutely no need for an introduction.

"Do you hunt down and force introductions with strangers often?" I mumble, wanting to be taken as closed off and disinterested as possible. He chuckles and I fucking hate how it makes my heart flutter, the same sound I had heard time and time again, although a little deeper now but no less charming.

"No, not often, but I didn't want to miss my opportunity since you decided to run off as soon as I caught your eye" he says, pointing out my obvious efforts of escape.

"I'm Jungkook" he says after there's been a lull in the conversation, holding out his hand for me to shake and after a pregnant pause I decide to take it, offering at least a common courtesy since I'm not the asshole in this relationship, or lack there of.

"It's nice to meet you" he says and I mumble the same sentiment back, not meaning a single word of it. "Do you talk to people's shoes often?" he teases as I haven't met his eyes since that initial glance, one he found inviting where as I felt was an ignition to my fight or flight, and unfortunately for me, yet fortunately for him, I chose wrong.

"That's not what I'm doing" I say, finally facing him, the difference in height a lot bigger than I remembered, his amused smile making it even more nerve racking, my body begging me to get the hell out of here.

"Then what is it that you were doing?" he asks, a crooked smile on his face but when a couple of beats passes by without me giving him an answer he takes that time to study me and when I see his expression changes to one of recognition I know there's no use in trying to get away unscathed.

"Yn?" he asks, my name no doubt feeling foreign on his lips but the way it sound to me is heartbreaking, a sound that I had hoped I would never hear again.

I decide to just look up at him, facing my fear since the answer to his barely articulated inquiry is quiet obvious to him now.

"What has it been, five year? Six years?" he asks, his eyes lighting up and his tone a relaxed one as if this is a happy reunion, showing that my feelings had really meant nothing to him.

"Seven actually" I say and he sighs in disbelief, "Has it really been that long?" he asks, a stupid question that could’ve been solved by a couple of seconds of mental math but I just hum as a response and try to walk past him, my first efforts of escape.

"Woah woah woah, where are you going?" he asks as if he had a right to keep me here. "Home" I say and try to walk down the path that'll lead me out of this bookstore that feels a lot smaller now.

"Do you have a second? I thought we could catch up? Maybe grab a coffee or something?" he suggests, nodding towards the cafe and I sigh, trying to think of the best way to shoot him down but luckily I don't have to, at least not now.

"I've been looking everywhere for you" David, my fiancé says, placing a just barely there kiss on my cheek as a way to somewhat establish our relationship to this unknown man in front of me.

When there's been another pause with me making no efforts of introduction David decides to take the initiative. "David" he says simply, holding out his hand for Jungkook to shake and he gives his name right back, their eye contact quickly broken as Jungkook's decided to bring his eyes back to me.

"Honey who's this?" David asks in a soft tone, placing a hand on my waist in reassurance, showing me he's not upset after finding me talking to this mystery man from his perspective. 

"We used to be friends back in school" Jungkook says when I still decide to hold my tongue, making this interaction even more uncomfortable than it needs to be but I have no obligation to make this go smoothly. His admission to having lost touch cracks open up a scab on my heart that I thought had healed long ago. 

"Oh, so you guys grew up together?" David asks and Jungkook nods. "Yeah...we did" he says softly, still looking at me as I've decided to look away from him after a few exchanges between the two of them.

"Honey do you think you could pull the car around? I'm sure he has something to get back to, as do we" I say, hoping he won't mind following my request without a need to ask for clarification. "Sure love, I'll text you when I'm out front" he says, him knowing that I'd no doubt like I second to wrap things up alone while remembering that we had to park pretty far away as it's an uncharacteristically busy day today.

"Thanks" I mouth to him and he places a kiss on my temple before holding his hand out for Jungkook again. "It was nice to meet you" he says and Jungkook nods half heartedly, "Yeah, you too" and he watches his back for a second as David leaves before turning his attention back to me.

"Boyfriend?" he asks unceremoniously, "Fiancé, actually" I say and he looks down and indeed sees the beautiful ring David had gotten me.

"Wow! Um, congratulations" he says, trying his hand at a halfhearted sentiment but failing miserably. "Yeah we've been together for four years so we figured it was time" I say and he nods his head giving me a sad smile.

"Well I'm happy for you" he says softly and I scoff, "No" I say abruptly to the point he flinches. "No?" he says as if he had never uttered the word before.

"You do not get to act like a kicked puppy because you didn't think I would move on" I say and place my pointer finger on his chest and he steps back as I apply pressure.

"What do you mean? I only said I was happy for you" he says as if he hadn't put on the saddest doe eyes he has ever given me. "You know you've gotten even more transparent with age" I say and he goes to open his mouth but I'm not done with him yet.

"You waltzed over here probably thinking I was just some cute girl that you wanted to shoot your shot with but when you found out it was me you wanted to what? Get a coffee? Act like nothing ever happened? Go back to the way we were? Or did you think you actually had a shot with me after everything you put me through?" I say practically shaking from the intensity of the words that I can't stop from coming out.

No warmth, no compassion left in my tone, just pure anger and disgust and I can tell from the way he's no longer carrying himself as confidently as before, he wasn't expecting this kind of a reaction from me.

After another pause as painful as the one all those years ago I scoff again, crossing my arms over my chest, losing patience with this conversation. "You gonna say something or are you still trying to figure out how you feel about me? Or better yet did you even bother to?" I spit out and he shakes his head.

"I was scared and stupid and selfish and couldn't figure out what the hell I wanted" he says, seemingly becoming more articulate over the years, but just barely.

"Is that all you have to say to me?" I ask, his explanation subpar at best. "Y/n I was eighteen and scared of losing you. You were the most important person in my life, and in some ways you still are" he admits but I shake my head and step away from him making him take a step towards me.

"You do not get to go around acting like the victim saying things like that just to mess with my head" I seethe, appalled that he thinks he has the right to say that to me. "Y/n I didn't mean to-"

"You know what?" I say, cutting him off, "I always thought that what you did, or didn't even bother to do showed that you didn't care about my feelings, but I never thought of you as being cruel. Maybe that whole time you were just toying with my feeling just because you could. You never expected me to have the guts to finally tell you how I felt huh?"

"Y/n please that's not what happened" he says, chasing after me when I start to walk away from him. "Then what did happen huh?" I spit out, waiting for whatever sorry excuse to come out of his mouth.

"I never meant to hurt you..." he says, reaching out for my hand but I move out of the way.

I give him one last once over, looking at how heartbroken and pathetic he looks but I have no sympathy for him and from the way the last bit of hope drains from his eyes he finally realizes that there's no saving this.

He tries once more to say something but we're interrupted by the text we both knew I was begging to come in.

"Y/n..." he says and tries to see if I'll give him one last chance but I turn my back and walk towards the door, my hand resting on the handle for longer than necessary, contemplating if this was the right choice but for the sake of my future I know that it was.

"Goodbye Jungkook" I utter under my breath and pull the door open to walk out. When I turn back to close the door behind me I do myself a horrible disservice by looking through the glass and seeing an expression on his face that I'll never forget.

Loss

Taglist: @jkslipppiercing @trina864 @kaitieskidmore97 @goddesofimortality @coolbluedude @coralmusicblaze @whoa-jo @00frenchfries00 @pastelpinkjoon @joonwater Taglist continued in the reblogs 💜

Join my Taglist!

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[paigesluver]

are you accepting request?

if so can you do vinne fluff with a youtuber!reader like filming a day in my life or morning routine?

Thank you!!

hi! this is so very late but i finally decided to upload it. its short but i hope you enjoy it!

day in the life

vinnie hacker x youtuber!reader

“hi besties and welcome back to the channel! today we’re going to be doing a day in my life” y/n spoke towards her camera. 

“i’m literally still in bed so let’s start by getting ready” she said as she moved the covers off her and got up. She walked into the bathroom and set the tripod on the counter. after slipping on her hello kitty headband, she grabbed her toothbrush. 

“do you guys wet the toothbrush and then put the toothpaste on it and wet it again or do you guys put the toothpaste and just brush?” she asked before brushing her teeth and washing her face. she quickly dried it and walked back into her room. 

she made her bed before walking to her closet and grabbing a pair of jeans, a hoodie, and her dunks. she shook out her curls and put on aquaphor. as she was showing her outfit in the mirror, vinnie walked in wrapping his arms around her waist. 

“mhm who are you looking good for and where are you off to?” he said, placing his head on her shoulder. 

“me, myself, and i and we are running errands today” she said emphasizing the we, smiling as she placed the camera on the counter. 

“oh are we now?” he smirked looking down at her. 

“yes we’re going to all our favorite stores and maybe i’ll even throw in a surprise for you” she said, wrapping her around his neck. 

“mmkay may i have a kiss first?” he asked, puckering his lips. 

she giggled leaning up, as their lips were about to connect vinnie covered the camera lens with his hand, kissing her. 

“you’re such a dork” she said, turning off the camera and grabbing his hand walking out towards the kitchen. 

“yeah yeah they don’t need to see all that plus would a dork get you breakfast burritos from your favorite place?” he said smiling as he grabbed her by her waist, setting her on top of the counter. 

she grabbed her food and began eating it as she went over their schedule. 

“Breakfast is done, so we just have to get a few groceries and definitely go to target. Also I want to pick up this new butterfly bag at Coach.”

Vinnie leaned against the counter facing Y/N as he also began eating, listening to their planned day. 

“Okay that sounds doable and like fun” 

She smiled at him and kissed his cheek.

[astonmartingf]

STAY WITH YOU ; CS55

carlos sainz x fem!reader

. . . the budding emotions continue at a high as you spend more time with carlos, the real question is who will make the first move?

previous: situations

yourusername uploaded a new story

[every time, he knows how to make an itinerary]

carlossainz55 replied to your story

i take it that you enjoyed our date and you definitely didn't regret meeting up with me?

hmmm

i wouldn't want to feed your ego any more but i guess i could say that you know how to work your way in my heart

is that you saying you want to go on another date with me?

take it whatever you will sainz, i don't have time for your teasing 🙄

HAHAHAHAHAHA you're annoyed again

i'll definitely take you out on another date

when are you free next?

i'll let you know

you never make it easy huh

doesn't matter, i'll be waiting for your message then

yourusername uploaded a new story

[team bonding activities with mr. country club]

carlossainz55 replied to your story

i'm back to being mr. country club?

i thought we'd built a stronger relationship than that

wym?

you're my only mr. country club, i think we have more relation than others already

"my"

my my, staking claim over me already?

there you go again, you're twisting my words always carlos

i'm joking...

but i can't help but imagine you saying that to me, i'm flattered what can you say

i say you're full of shit

and who's fault is that?

you keep filling my head with these thoughts

i don't say things like that...

get your head out of the gutter

you keep complimenting me, it feeds the soul

you mean your ego

i'm not about to deny that you have that effect on me, it is what it is cariño

yourusername uploaded a new story

[finally got to taste the infamous fluffy pancakes]

carlossainz55 replied to your story

i told you i make good pancakes

yes, yes

they are delicious

and isn't the shape amazing as well

...

don't act like i didn't see you hide the failed pancakes

they weren't heart-shaped that's why

you could've just given me the circle ones

i wanted to give you the heart ones

and how many heart pancakes were you able to make?

just the one in the picture 🥺

doesn't matter carlos

i'd eat whatever shape pancake you give me

i like you like that

carlossainz55 uploaded a new story

[making me a run for my money, beat my race time]

charles_leclerc replied to your story

let us meet her now

it's about time

i'll think about it

i want time for myself right now

wow, you're serious about this

ofc mate, i like her like that

landonorris replied to your story

first is karting, second is paddock time

i swear what's preventing you from asking her out this time?

maybe i just need more time

okay now you're lying to yourself

i'm afraid if she doesn't want to be with me like that

WHAT? you're joking

i haven't seen you two irl but from what i see i don't think it's a one lane highway

you clearly like each other

well, wait for me to make my move ig

are you cooking something?

cooking what? i'm not cooking

you know i meant something else

never mind, go get it carlos

yourusername uploaded a new story

[what can't he do?]

charles_leclerc replied to your story

ask you out 😁

literally shut up charles

i can't be silenced because i'm telling the truth

should i ask him out at this point?

what are you waiting for?

nothing really

then go for it

just don't forget to tell me first

carlossainz55 replied to your story

i ask myself too sweetheart

here we go again 🙄

did you get home safe?

you dropped me off right at my front door, i think that's as safe as it can go

how about you? are you home already, considering you're replying quite fast

i just arrived home

thank you for accompanying me tonight

no worries

it was definitely fun to see you sweat, and then go for a swim...

you enjoying the view?

yup

now rest and go to sleep

you really cut that conversation short...

because i know where it's going cariño

go to sleep carlos, or else

okay ma'am

i will sleep now

goodnight cariño

yourusername uploaded a new story

[if he isn't my boyfriend after this, i'm actually asking him out myself]

charles_leclerc replied to your story

OOOOOHHHH

date night

exciting

shut up charles

tell me how it goes please

you're just nosy

okay and?

it's data gathering

whatever charles, now leave us alone

enjoy your date with your future boyfriend

don't forget to let me know okay?

message me the details

carlossainz55 posted a new video

view comments...

user1 wait.... i've connected the pieces

user2 is this the girl from the summer fling?

user3 OMG WAIT! they're dating already 🥹🥹🥹

user4 anyone else IGNORNING THE FACT that it's CARLOS MF SAINZ???

charles_leclerc i thought i said update me yourusername now i see this on carlos tiktok feels illegal

carlossainz55 why am i hearing about this for the first time?

charles_leclerc what can i say, i just have the intel for that

yourusername you finish data gathering charles_leclerc?

user5 the girls are fighting

user6 rewatching the summer fling tt feels different now

user7 right??? like...

user8 wow, this was the result of the silly season last year

user9 they're so cute and then i remember the summer fling version of this and CRY EVERYITNM

yourusername i love you so much carlos and i very much so giggle and think about us all the time

carlossainz55 i'm glad i'm in your head rent free

yourusername 🙄🖕

carlossainz55 you love me amor ❤️

[world0fmadness]

MILK, NOT FOR VOMITING

lewis hamilton x old youtube icon! wife! reader x ( platonic! ) oc daughter

faceclaim: assorted

୨୧ i know the title is stupid because babies do burp up milk but if you watched old maxmoefoe and stuff you get it! i don’t know if you can even make dual user posts on instagram but in this smau, you can! super special thank you to @misty-inferno for providing me with the pictures of lewis and roscoe and for helping me have the confidence to post this now :)

lewishamilton and ynwiththecamera: surprise! baby hamilton ln coming soon 🍼 🧸 🕯 i will be coming back to youtube after baby boo is born to archive memories with them and document my journey with parenthood! i know that’s much different from the content i used to make but i’ve moved on and grown as a person, i’m sure you can all understand - love, yn and lewis

sebastianvettel ✔️: so excited for you two, you’ll make great parents ❤️ - sebastian

❤️ liked by ynwiththecamera and lewishamilton

> lewishamilton ✔️: thanks again sebastian!

lewynforever: ITS HAPPENING OH MY GOD ITS HAPPENING

> lewynforever: DILF LEWIS AND MILF YN IS HAPPENINGGGG

maxmoefoe ✔️: first word has to be “chef” or you’ve got to bin it

❤️ liked by ynwiththecamera and joji

> ynwiththecamera ✔️: yes chef!

lewisontop: they already have a nursery set up this early on? oh that’s how you know they’re rich rich…

> lewynforever: or they just wanted to get it over and done with and have the means to do so?

joji: congratulations yn! you’ll make an amazing mother ❤️

❤️ liked by ynwiththecamera and lewishamilton

> cancercrewforever: he’s actually not wrong, whenever him, max or ian used to get a really bad cut or something she’d kind of fret over them before mocking them 😭

lewynforever: the mini f1 car oh my goood 💔

> lewishammy: i wonder who got it for them 🥹

> georgerussell ✔️: 🙋🏻‍♂️ had to secure my place as favourite uncle quick, there’s too much… competition… if you can even call it that

❤️ liked by ynwiththecamera

> charlesleclerc ✔️: 🤨

> maxverstappen ✔️: 🤨

> fernandoalonso ✔️: 🤨

> ilovef1: oh he’s so proud of that gift lmao

> oldf1lover: george is so competitive when it comes to stuff like this, it kills me 😭

loveyouyn: YN LN RETURNS TO YOUTUBE LETS GOOO

ynwiththecamera and lewishamilton: bump progression and finally, the arrival 🤍 winnie hamilton ln

maxverstappen ✔️: congratulations guys! can’t wait to meet her

❤️ liked by ynwiththecamera and lewishamilton

lewynforever: GIRL DAD LEWIS GIRL DAD LEWIS

dilflewishamilton: i don’t know if my heart is ready for girl dad lewis content

georgerussell ✔️: coming over as soon as i can, i need to meet my niece and she needs to meet her favourite uncle

❤️ liked by ynwiththecamera and lewishamilton

> charlesleclerc ✔️: 🤨

> maxverstappen ✔️: 🤨

> fernandoalonso ✔️: 🤨

lewisontop: WINNIE 😭 SO CUTE

sebastianvettel ✔️: congratulations on the baby girl you guys! good luck ❤️ - sebastian

❤️ liked by ynwiththecamera and lewishamilton

> lewynforever: “ good luck ” 😭

> ynwiththecamera ✔️: thanks a bunch for the gifts and well wishes sebastian!

lewisontop: the little slippers… i just felt my heart explode…

lewishamilton uploaded to his story!

ynwiththecamera: new vlog out today! it mainly focuses on how me and lewis are adjusting in the early months of new parenthood, watch here👩‍🍼 🤍 🥞

lewynforever: of COURSE their baby is decked out in designer and jewellery 😭

lewishamilton ✔️: love my girls so much ❤️

liked by ynwiththecamera

> dilflewishamilton: ARGHHH MY HEART CANT TAKE THIS

> dilflewishamilton: ITS JUST TOO DOMESTIC

> dilflewishamilton: AND SO CUTE

maxverstappen ✔️: judging by the bags under lewis’ eyes and the smile on his face everytime i see him, i’d say you two are adjusting well!

> lewishamilton ✔️: thank you very much max…

loveyouyn: this baby’s wardrobe is probably worth more than my apartment… i don’t even know how to feel about that

georgerussell ✔️: i spy with my little eye the necklace i got winnie ON winnie!

❤️ liked by ynwiththecamera and lewishamilton

> lewishamilton ✔️: she loves it, thanks mate

> maxverstappen ✔️: yeah well i spy with MY little eye the shoes i got her!

> georgerussell ✔️: shoes are shit, necklace is better 😗

> lewynforever: they’re having a mid off 😭

lewishamilton: beach and boat day with my girls 🏝

lewishammy: yn is one lucky woman, holy moly

❤️ liked by ynwiththecamera

georgerussell ✔️: did little winnie collect those shells?

> lewishamilton ✔️: yeah, we’re thinking about getting some of them made into necklaces

> georgerussell ✔️: i hope i’ll be getting one, considering i’m her favourite uncle

❤️ liked by ynwiththecamera and lewishamilton

> charlesleclerc ✔️: and where have you heard that exactly?

> georgerussell ✔️: winnie told me herself!

> charlesleclerc ✔️: she can’t even say words aside from “mama” and “papa” yet, idiot

> charlesleclerc ✔️: and even if she could talk full sentences, everyone knows i’m her favourite

> oldf1lover: HES GOING TO GET NECKLACES MADE OUT OF THE SHELLS HIS BABY GIRL FOUND ON THE BEACH SHUT UPPPP HOW IS THIS MAN SO PERFECT

> lewynforever: this confirms my theory that lewis is the type of dad to keep EVERYTHING his baby ever gives him… rock from the driveway? thank you! piece of paper? absolutely! leaf from a tree in the garden? so thoughtful!

charlesleclerc ✔️: did she not get seasick on the boat?

> lewishamilton ✔️: my girl? get a grip! you guys might be a bunch of wusses but not my winnie

> ynwiththecamera ✔️: yes… she did… all over lewis’ shirt

❤️ liked by charlesleclerc

> lewishamilton ✔️: i was trying to spare her the embarrassment of people knowing, love!

> ynwiththecamera ✔️: lew… she’s a baby, she doesn’t even know what embarrassment is yet ❤️

ilovef1: lewis hamilton the dilf that you are…

❤️ liked by ynwiththecamera

> lewishammy: lmao i see you yn, liking every thirst comment, you love your man, good for you girl

landonorris ✔️: was that fourth picture necessary sir hamilton?

lewishamilton ✔️: what’s wrong with it?

landonorris ✔️: ASS CHEEK 😟 you’re parents now, can’t post stuff like that now can you?

> lewishamilton ✔️: who’s let you out of the daycare pen then?

ynwithethecamera: me and lewis took winnie and roscoe to a slaughter rescue farm this week! watch the vlog here 🐑 👒 🦙

lewishamilton ✔️: one of my favourite trips we’ve taken with her so far ❤️

loveyouyn: her vlogs literally make my month…

> lewishammy: same 😭 they’re so domestic and cute!

ilovef1: is this the one they donated a bunch of money to?

dilflewishamilton: more winnie content </3 my heart can’t take it

> lewynforever: her little hat 🥹

f1forlife: i need to STOP watching these vlogs because they give me the worst baby fever ever…

> lewishammy: for real 😭 and because they come out every two weeks it’s like as soon as i manage to shake the baby fever, she uploads another domestic vlog with lewis being the dream husband and father and boom, baby fever is back and stronger than ever

⋆ ˚｡⋆ ୨୧ ˚ NEW ADDED BONUS ˚ ୨୧ ⋆｡˚ ⋆

my head hurts so unfortunately, no actual added bonus for this one… except a gif of maxmoefoe <3 thanks for reading!

[jo-com]

˙ . ꒷ 🍰 . 𖦹˙➛ I am right here!

Oscar Piastri x Fem!Reader

Summary: Physically seen but never romantically.

Genre: Highschool!Au, a bit angsty

Note: There are some grammatical errors and this is not proofread.. Finally back to writing!! Hope you guys like and enjoy this. Got Caught up in my work that i forgot to write and was mentally drained to even do so. But now i am back at it again and be sure to read all of the updates I'll be uploading!

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ ➛ My Masterlist

─────── ─ ˚��𓍢ִ໋🦢˚─ ───────

It was your free period so you've decided to go to the library and catch up on your other lessons. You were the only person there, so everything was perfect; it was quiet and the atmosphere was just right. The peacefulness surrounded you like a warm embrace─ it was relaxing and comforting.

Suddenly a loud bang from the doors and paddles of feet could be heard from across the room.

Well, so much for peace and quiet.

You didn't even have to check who it was that made the noise. You already knew who it was, correction who he was.

"Guess what y/n/n~" Oscar beamed─ Jumping at the seat next to you.

You flickered your eyes from your book to his. Slowly examining his whole figure.

He had this goofy grin plastered across his face and his smile widens even more as he speaks, you can practically hear the joy radiating from his voice.

God that smile is just so contagious, it matches so well with his angelic tone.

The look that you gave him definitely screams 'uninterested' but of course that's only the expression you show him.

Unbeknownst to Oscar all the deep feelings you want to further express to him.

You softly put down your book to the side and diverted all your attention at the man sitting beside you.

"What? Is there a reason why you look awfully like an idiot right now?" You answered, acting all cold and mundane as possible.

Oscar rolled his eyes and gently nudged your shoulders. "Why do you always frown like that, you know, you're way prettier when you smile."

And why do you always make my heart go crazy with those words??

You shrugged nonchalantly, "it's because you're super annoying and not very smile worthy."

"Ha Ha, real funny y/n, you crack me up" Oscar said sarcastically making you giggle softly. "Anyways, i have good news."

You stopped and raised your brows─ signaling for him to continue.

He took the hint and continued what he was going to say, "You know how I've been courting lily for the past few months now?"

Your smile soon fades and your demeanor quickly shifts as you try your best not to falter.

The reality was quick to weigh down on you. Crushing and crumbling your heart with each truthfulness.

From out of sight, you were gripping your thighs to stop the tears from going down, so much that it will probably bruise later.

You rolled your eyes jokingly, "I remember, only because you wouldn't stop talking about her, you lover boy" you spoke weakly─ punching his shoulders playfully to make it seem that it hadn't affected you.

"what about it?" You asked, even though you know where this conversation was heading.

Oscar couldn't contain his excitement and happily blurted out his words, "SHE FINALLY SAID YES."

Your lips subtly quiver and your eyes start to gloss. You knew where this was going so why does it hurt so bad?

"Wow uhm..i am so happy for you osc" you croaked, feeling your voice crack a little.

"I just feel so lucky to have her" Oscar sighed─ the smile on his face says it all.

He then went on and on about how she said yes and what he felt at the time. He was so busy talking about his feelings that he couldn't see yours.

You were smiling, yet your eyes tells another story.

He kept on talking, saying just how happy he was. "And then when she said yes, my heart just stopped beating and everything was in slow motion"

That's what i feel everyday with you.

His voice seemed to blend in the background and all you could hear was the ringing silence of loneliness.

You nod your head every now and then to what he was saying, despite not listening to what he was actually rambling on about.

You then abruptly cut him off and stood up, "uh i am sorry Osc but, i forgot that me and alex have this thing."

"What is it? Maybe i can help?" He offered, his eyes softening at your sudden reaction.

God, don't look at me with those eyes.

You shook your head and averted your eyes, ignoring his looks of concern. You didn't want him to see you like that. Not like this.

Don't fall for it y/n, he's just concerned as a Friend.

Without saying a word you quickly grabbed your things and scurried away from him. Leaving Oscar confused and dumbfounded.

...

You hurriedly ran to the nearest rest room─avoiding all the people that were in the way. Not wanting them to take a glance at your now tear eyed face.

As soon as you close the cubicle door, your whole body just went limp. Not having any energy anymore.

And you were now balling your eyes out on the ground─ bitting your lips, to stifle the cries that were escaping from your trembling mouth.

You were stupid enough to think that there was something going to happen between you and Oscar. It's your fault, for falling at his rosy sweet words, even though you knew deep down inside that he only meant that as a friend.

...

Short cause it got deleted ON MY FIRST DRAFT. Hope u enjoyed tho

[ivykim]

SIM(P) JAEYUN STRIKES

VIDEO START ▶️

— welcome to the video. thank you for clicking on it! today, I’ll be bringing you on a journey of various moments where jake is practically down bad for ivy

DANCE JAM LIVE #071223

since everyone was doing their own thing and dancing to their song, ivy does the same thing. it was quite honestly a mini party. all of them were dressed in something quite formal due to having schedules in the morning/afternoon.

ivy was wearing this

she looked gorgeous. everyone single one of the boys had their jaws dropped when she walked into the room wearing that. one person though had their mouths way more wide open than the others.

“jake, close your mouth.” jay says. the boy listens but he’s still mesmerised by ivy.

“noona is so pretty…” jake mumbles. anywhere she went, jake’s eyes would follow her figure.

— here we have prime example of sim(p) jaeyun

vivi x jake vlog (spoilers??)

— vivi says the vlog will be uploaded eventually (belift I’m watching you🫵🏻) but she posted a snippet of it on weverse

IVY🌟 POSTED: who are you calling cute? you’re cuter jaeyun🙄 *video attached*

from what it seems, it’s just ivy and jake walking around the rented home’s mini garden. there, they spotted a cat and ivy gasps.

jake goes to film her as ivy passes the camera to him. she kneels down to the cat and allows it to sniff her. it easily gets comfortable with her and ivy happily pets it.

“jaeyun~ the kitty is so cute.” she says in a pouty voice.

jake’s heart tugs as ivy speaks in a cute voice.

“cute.” he mumbles behind the camera. which obviously was caught in the video bc Ivy wouldn’t have posted it if it wasn’t caught.

— aww the jaeun ship is sailing!

a compilation of behind episodes with jake and ivy

#1. “noona, please!”

jake loves asking for permission from ivy and ivy grew to love hearing the boys (who are younger than her) calling her noona. it took a while for her to accept it but she likes being called noona now!

“I want that one. please? can I have a bite?” jake says as he watches ivy biting onto her popsicle.

“say please.”

“noona, please!” jake pouts. Ivy turns to the camera and points to it.

“DID YOU CATCH THAT?? JAKE DOES HAVE AEYGO! ENGENEs YOUR WELCOME!!”

#2. “noona, can I have a hug?”

jake loves hugs from ivy. no particular reason. she’s just the perfect height and size for him to hug. ivy does love giving hugs to all of them though. especially when they need extra energy.

she stands in the middle and everyone lines up. she gives each boy a hug. ni-ki hugs longer as he happily enjoys being in her arms.

“yah! it’s my turn.” jake huffs.

“no.” ni-ki says as his voice was a little muffled being in ivy’s arms. ivy pats the younger boy’s back.

“riki, it’s jake time. I’ll come to your room later to cuddle with you more okay? you big baby.” ni-ki grumbles before peeling himself off ivy. he walks away to tackle jungwon instead. clearly not done being clingy.

jake finally smiles, “noona, can I have a hug?”

“yes, you can.” she holds out her arms. jake happily jumps in her arms. his arms finding home around her waist and hers finding their way around his neck.

— love how the staff recorded this whole thing and captioned it “ivy’s hug service. free of charge.”

#3. “please, tell me there isn’t a ghost…NOONA I’M SCARED!”

as ivy is a psychic medium. she can see and feel ghosts. the boys don’t necessarily like whenever ivy mentions there is a ghost so she usually doesn’t say it.

but if something is off, ivy will definitely voice out.

“not to alarm any of you but excuse me while I just do this for a bit.” ivy stands up from her seat and starts moving towards the corner of the room.

“oh lord. she’s at it again.” jay sighs.

“the demon is back.” sunoo adds.

“please tell me there isn’t a ghost…” jake says as he watches ivy getting closer to the corner. the three of them watched her point in the top corner. she scolds whatever that is in that corner and tells them to leave immediately.

“okay, this guy is stubborn.”

“what guy. noona? please tell me…”

“just an 8ft shadow dude in the corner. it looks like those spiders but giant and has 2 legs like us.”

“WHY WOULD YOU SAY THAT! NOONA I’M SCARED!” jake says.

#4. “LETS GIVE IT UP FOR KIM FUCKING HAEUN!!”

of course. there had to be engenes recording this part. it’s a concert! they had to perform. with them being in America, the managers were more chill. so jake decided to take advantage of that and give some appreciation for ivy.

everyone was hyped up. ivy had a solo performance at the concert that she prepared so the boys wanted to hype the engenes up.

“ENGENEs! are you ready for ivy’s performance?” they yelled. ENGENEs screaming out loud.

“I can’t hear you? ARE YOU READY FOR IVY?” jay instigates. the ENGENEs screamed even louder. the nod their heads in approval.

“THEN LET’S GIVE IT UP FOR KIM FUCKING HAEUN!!” jake yells. it causes ENGENEs to scream even louder as jake cusses just to introduce ivy.

safe to say, ivy was very hyped during her solo performance.

#5. “oh good lord.” *trips on his own foot*

it was comeback as per usual and ivy’s stylist wanted to try something new. her outfit had different cuts and holes to make it more sexier so ivy looked really good.

sunoo interviews her with the camera and was busy filming fun little contents with her. that’s when jake walks in. his eyes fell upon her outfit.

“oh good lord.” he says as he trips on his own foot while staring at ivy. sunoo laughs, zooming into jake.

“jake hyung, are you okay?” sunoo asks in between laughs.

“y-yeah! just tripped somehow.” he says embarrassingly, clearly he was caught off guard.

#6. “would you date haeun noona? yes.” *with no hesitation*

jake was live during one of the America stops and so he decided to read some comments while listening to some music.

many of them were basically asking where the other members were and just asking him to do aeygo. the typical thing. that is until one question caught jake’s eye

“would you date haeun noona? yes.” with not a single hesitation in his voice. he moves on from there it causes a whole ruckus in the fandom and shippers.

#7. “KIM HAEUN! KIM HAEUN!”

jake was always ivy’s biggest fanboy as shown in the past few videos. in this en-o’clock episode where they played sports, it even more obvious.

“whoever gets ivy noona on their team instantly wins.” jungwon says.

with the teams split with the usual decision of rock paper scissors, heeseung falls to his knees.

“no, this is unfair.”

“HAH! WE GOT IVY NOONA.” sunghoon points and laughs at the other team.

“now, what do you mean unfair.” ivy says as she stares right at the two tallest boys. “if anything, I should feel unfair.”

the games start. it felt like a war zone, each of the boys getting more and more competitive. as it was ivy’s turn, she holds up the bow.

“KIM HAEUN! KIM HAEUN!” jake cheers. the editors placed a quick edited pompom and puppy ears on jake as he cheers ivy on.

[PUPPY JAKE cheering on IVY]

#8. "10 facts you didn't know about vivi noona, she's not yours."

during this live, there were tons of ENGENEs talking about the fact that ivy looked so good in her new hair. this time, she decided to go all natural and dyed her hair dark brown, similar to jay's colour.

"ivy looks so pretty with brown hair." ivy reads out in english. "aww thank you, i bet you guys are prettier." she gives a small heart to the ENGENEs.

"ivy is so perfect, she's so pretty and she's mine." jake reads.

"aww, yes ENGENEs. i'm yours." she blows kisses. jake snorts and rolls his eyes playfully.

"ENGENEs, i have some facts about noona you didn't know. wanna hear it?"

ivy tilts her head, "tmi today?"

jake hums, "here are 10 facts you didn't know about vivi noona, she's not yours." jake smiles.

"now, jaeyun-"

[video bleeps]

#9. "why is everyone calling vivi noona a mother?" "i mean, yeah. you're right. she's the mother. the mother to our kids."

and yet another live from jake but this time, he was solo. he decided to go live after their concert. despite him being tired, he wanted to make ENGENEs feel loved so he turned on the live.

"where is ivy?" he hums. "i think she's sleeping. she was really tired after the concert. she almost slept with her outside clothes on so there's that."

"hmm? tmi? yeah, that's true."

"oh, you guys saw her outfit today at the concert? yeah, the stylist tried something for her."

he reads through more of the comments, "why is everyone calling vivi noona a mother?"

that is until he had a bright idea in his brain. "i mean, yeah. you're right. she's the mother. the mother to our kids."

— MOTHER TO YOUR WHAT? WHAT KIDS SIR??

#10. "sorry, you can’t have noona. she’s mine.”

at an offline fansign during dark blood era, fans were enjoying ivy’s outfit style and the fact that she got a solo part during the second chorus of ‘Bite Me’. which led to tons of ENGENEs talking about how they would like to marry her.

there were tons asking her one by one the same questions. “are you single?” / “haeunie, can I be your girlfriend/boyfriend?”

so since jake was after ivy, the ENGENEs would continue to talk about her to jake.

“jaeyun-ah, can I marry ivy?”

“mmm, no.”

“why?”

"sorry, you can’t have noona. she’s mine.”

— okay, possessive boyfriend let’s go??

#11. “noona makes me feel safe. she knows when i feel anxious and nervous so she pays great attention to the little things.”

to end of the video, I would like to mention the interview where jake praised ivy. this was during one of their earlier days.

— “what is it like to have ivy on the team?”

jake reads the question. he hums, “noona…she’s just amazing.”

“despite, us thinking we would be just any normal boy group during I-LAND, seeing ivy noona and the many other girl contestants doing their best made me realise that we were all fighting for the same dream.”

“so when noona was announced, I wasn’t surprised. she’s amazing, heeseung hyung level of talent. what surprised me was that she cried a lot, she thought that she wouldn’t debut. she had a lot of doubts because they never announced other girls to debut with her so it was just her and us.”

“she started to feel down. worried that the fans wouldn’t like her but eventually, with a lot of encouragement and the positive comments praising her, she gained more confidence and started showing her true colours.” jake laughs.

“for me, noona makes me feel safe. she knows when i feel anxious and nervous so she pays great attention to the little things.”

“in fact, she knows whenever anyone feels down and tries to lighten the mood. she actually hates whenever it’s too serious when it’s not supposed to be. I remember her complaining about how all of us were too tense during practice and that we need to loosen up. true enough, when we loosened up, we did better.”

[video fades to black]

— thank you for watching ❤️

[misted-dream]

🦢 A WALTZ IN THE DARK ₊˚⊹ ˚ ༘ ⋆ ⟢ ballet dancer!doyoung & fem!ballerina!reader

author's note . . . this was first released as a 4.5-part series that i never finished. i finally decided to finish it and put them all together and upload it separately as a oneshot just for convenience's sake. the series info can be found here!

content&warnings . . . eventual smut, forced proximity, enemies to lovers if you squint, mentions of injury, profanity, smoking, alcohol consumption, slight exhibitionism, unprotected sex, oral, slowburn (idk if it counts?)

word count . . . 28k (i'm insane abt dy)

synopsis . . . the first and last time you and doyoung danced together was 5 years ago. 5 years since the mishap that founded your mistrust of him, at least as a duet partner. with the annual swan lake showing rolling around, you think you finally stand a chance to audition for the leads: odette and odile. it's every ballerina's dream to play this role at least once in their career. little do you know, rumour has it that kim doyoung just so happens to be auditioning for the role of prince siegfried this year.

ACT I THE ROLE

Truthfully, it’s claustrophobic out in the hallways. Despite it being well-ventilated and well-lit, there’s a stuffy feeling of being cramped into a space that crawls up onto your skin, pricking up goosebumps along with it. You prop one leg up on the barre that lines every inch of every wall within this building, bending your torso at your hip and pushing towards your knee in a straight line. The other dancers around you do the same. The energy in this corridor is unspoken, but there’s a shared feeling of anxiousness. It’s been at least 20 minutes since the last dancer was called into the audition room; no audition needs to take 20 minutes. Unless, they’re so spectacular to the point where the directors have forgotten they were still auditioning people for the roles. 

Not just any role though. The role. The role of Odette, and by the same token, the role of Odile. The lead female role for the Swan Lake Ballet. It’s been regarded as one of the most difficult roles to play because of how stark the contrast is between these two characters that are supposed to look the same, so naturally, logic suggests that the same ballerina must dance these two, so very different characters.

You set your back upright again, feeling an adequate enough stretch in your hamstrings. The dancers amongst you are all individually in their own worlds. Last year, you didn’t even sign up to audition for the lead. Though, not many people did. It was pretty much guaranteed that the prima ballerina would get it. This year, however, she opted out of auditioning and suddenly, there was an influx in interest for the part. Your whole life, you’ve been training for such an occasion—you can’t let it slip past you now.

“Y/N!”

A voice calls out. You turn your head in the direction of the voice. A pretty ballerina slips by the woman with a clipboard in her hand. The dancer’s light brown hair is pulled back perfectly, a full bun sitting in the back of her head. She waves a quick goodbye to the people inside the room before she steps out into the hallway.

“Yes, that’s me.” You say before bending down to pick up your dance bag, swinging it onto your right shoulder.

The woman doesn’t say anything else, she simply rotates her body sideways to allow some space for you to step in through to the room.

As soon as you’re inside the audition room, you see a seated panel of four people, two of whom you recognise: the company’s director and the choreographer. Both the pride and joy of the Paris House of Ballet. There’s an air of iciness that surrounds them. You set down your bag by the edge of the wall and saunter towards the spot marked with masking tape in the middle of the room. 

“Whenever you’re ready,” the director, Colette, beams at you.

You purse your lips together, kneeling down in front of the tablet set out for auditionees to put on the music they’ve chosen for their piece. A soft piano melody begins. The panel immediately recognises it as the Dying Swan. The melancholy tune floods the square audition room, and you let the music overtake and guide your every movement.

The piece is beginning to come to an end. You’re sat on top of your heel with one leg pointed straight out in front of you. The swan’s final moments, she’s still fighting for her mortality. With one last flare of her wings—your arms—you envelope yourself. Arms crossed at the wrist resting on top of your ankle, and you bow your head, your forehead touching your shin. You wait a few seconds before uncrossing your wrists and getting up onto your feet, as gracefully as you can. Looking up at the panel, you’re met with satisfied smiles. Internally, you release a deep sigh.

Colette looks to her sides, and then she begins, “Your grace is incomparable. Truly, very well done.”

One of the people whom you don’t recognise chimes in, “One of the best we’ve seen so far.” He nods, looking pleased with you and himself.

Colette’s smile is sturdy on her face. “Now, how are your fouettés?”

As soon as you step one foot out of the audition room, someone is already there waiting to pounce. “How was it?” Karina asks ecstatically.

Your shoulders jump up a bit at her excitement, “-You scared me.”

She widens her eyes expectantly, waiting for you to answer her question.

“It was alright. I did well enough on Odette’s part.”

Karina rolls her eyes, “Is that what you think? Well enough?”

You’re eyeing down the water fountain at the end of the corridor, someone stood right in front of it as they’re filling up their bottle. A tall man waltzes past, his head turning towards you for a brief moment. As quick as he came into view, he leaves all the same. You’re stuck looking at where the outline of his body was, eyes boring holes into the beige-painted walls of the corridors.

“Hello?” Karina’s voice brings you back to the present.

“Yeah, sorry. What did you say?”

Monday mornings are never usually too bad. This Monday morning may prove your hypothesis wrong, though. The casting of the characters for Swan Lake were said to be posted up today, up on the bulletin board. They could just send out a mass message but your company insists on doing things the conventional way, only like back a decade ago. It’s tradition, they’d said, dancers all huddle up to hopefully find their names next to the character they auditioned for. 

You’re hoping the same as you begin your commute to work this morning.

You swipe your ID card against the reader and the glass doors click open. Already, you can see a group of people, some wearing their practice outfits whilst others look they they just walked in with their jackets still  on, all crowded around a rectangular pillar that stands in the middle of the staircase—separating the stairs that go up and the ones that go down. 

Curiosity spikes within you, an unease settling in the pit of your stomach. This is it. You walk over to the crowd that’s garnering more people by the second. 

“Y/N! Here!” You hear Karina’s voice from somewhere in the horde, and then a hand tugs at you. She pulls you through the mob of dancers, all eager to find their names plastered on the wall, until you’re stood next to her. You’re about two people away from the bulletin board, and once they move out of your way, it’s blatantly in your face. The plain piece of paper is titled: ‘Swan Lake Showing Castings.’

Your eyes skim past the castings for the male dancers and straight to the bottom half for the female dancers. You land on where it says ‘Odette/Odile’ and the name next to it: Juliette Martin. Not yours.

“Look!” Karina points at the paper, index finger underlining the role for Odette/Odile’s understudy. And there it is. Your name printed out next to the role of the understudy. Karina is visibly shaking with excitement, definitely more so than you. If anyone didn’t know better, they’d probably think that your name was Karina’s.

“Oh my god!” She flings her arms around you, and in her embrace, you shuffle out of the mob of people together. “You got it!”

“The understudy,” you remind her lowly. You attempt to soften your tone with a light, “Well,” and a shrug.

She’s not phased by your disappointment. “Still. You should be proud of yourself,” she leans her head forward, “I am. Proud of you, I mean.”

Her words force a smile onto your face and you manage out a quiet, ‘thank you.’

You’re in the middle of the barre routine, foot pointed out to second, when you feel a tap on your shoulder. Thinking that it’s your mentor’s way of telling you to fix something—it could be anything really, straighten your back, tuck in your pelvis, turn out, point your toes more—you settle for standing up taller and rolling your shoulders back. She taps you again, in the same spot. This time, you turn to look at your mentor; maybe she’ll feel like actually specifying her request, unlike usually. Her coarse, grey hair frames her face in artistically messy strands, the rest of it pulled back into a quick bun, unlike the neat, meticulously combed ones that ballerinas normally gravitate towards wearing. Once your mentor has your attention, she signals towards the door to the studio. You drop your arms from the barre, eyebrows raising at your mentor with your fingers pointing to your chest. She nods. This whole interaction is carried out in silence, as to not disturb the rest of the dancers going through the routine. You half-walk, half-jog on your tiptoes towards the studio doors, and the director is waiting by the frame.

She steps out and you follow her into the hallway. Finding a nearby bench, she sits down and prompts you to do the same.

The cold from the metal bars of the bench is insulated by your joggers, one leg pulled up to above your knee exposing the tights underneath, while the other sits where it’s supposed to. 

You breathe in, “What can I do for you?” You try to put on a convincing smile.

“Did you see the castings this morning?” The director begins.

You simply nod, not knowing where this conversation will go.

“Well, Juliette dropped out of the show this morning.”

“Oh,” you voice. And then the revelation hits you. You repeat, “Oh,” this time with full understanding of the director’s implications.

“So…” Colette’s lips are slow to curve into a smile, “You’re our lead.”

Your stomach flutters upon hearing those words, your mouth hung slightly agape. An excitement inches up to your face, the muscles in your cheeks spark up. “I mean, yeah. I’d love that. But why?” Colette notices the tiniest sliver of hesitation in your tone.

“Personal stuff—she didn’t know if she can stay in Paris for the next 2 months to train.”

You nod in understanding. “That’s a shame.”

“Some things can’t be helped,” Colette responds. “So, you’ll do it?”

“I’d love to.”

“Great!” The director’s face lights up as she puts her own hand over yours. “Training should start as soon as possible, so…” she looks down onto the floor to think, “The day after tomorrow?”

The way this conversation happened, it’s like you’re continuously a beat behind Colette. “I can look over the routines by myself tomorrow, no problem. Wouldn’t that be better? So we don’t have to wait an extra day?”

“Oh, no.” She gives a starry-eyed shake of the head. “Your training starts with partnering. You know, to test the chemistry.”

You mouth a subtle, ‘Oh.’

“Did you see who got the role of Siegfried?”

You let out a soft chuckle, “No. I kind of zoned out when I saw what role I got.” A sudden wave of self-awareness engulfs you after that sentence uttered with unfiltered honesty. If Colette picked up on that, she made no show of it.

“I don’t know if you know him, actually. Kim Doyoung got the part.”

Kim Doyoung.

You knew him. No doubt, you knew him.

You lay in bed, eyes staring at the ceiling. The covers are pulled all the way up to your chest despite it being warm enough that you don’t need to sleep with the covers on. As you shut your eyes, an all-too-familiar memory plays out in your head.

It’s 5 years ago. You’re a fresh face to the company having just graduated from the Paris Conservatory for dance. It’s a spring day, the trees outside the studio building are beginning to blossom again. 

It’s partner practice and the mentor decided that today is the day that everyone will try some lifts. Not that extraordinary, you’d been lifted countless times even during your days learning at the conservatory. Kim Doyoung just so happened to be stood next to you when the mentor announced this. You didn’t know anyone in the class back then, seeing as you’d just joined, and he made no conscious effort to go seeking out a particular partner, so naturally, the two of you partnered up.

You didn’t know who he was at the time, just the fact that he was undeniably handsome. A combination of both sharp and soft features to him; if he was anything as a partner, it was that he’s easy on the eye.

The mentor demonstrated a lift which consisted of the male dancer lifting his partner all the way up in the air over his head, while she arched her back with both feet pointed downwards; arms stretched out nearly in a 90 degree angle from each other.

Someone had counted to 3 and that’s when you jumped, assisting him the most you could as he lifted you well over 6 feet above the ground. The lift went fine. The mentor then suggested a variation in which the male dancer supports the weight with only one hand. And you don’t know what happened, but presumably Doyoung tried to hold the lift with a single hand, and that’s when it started going downhill.

There was a little instability in your core and you told him to put you down. He listened, or at least tried to, but the balance was thrown off. He was still holding the weight with one hand when he tried to wrap his free hand around your waist again. Before you know it, the fabric of your leotard did you no good and you started slipping from his grip. Being forced to basically propel yourself down, it came too unexpectedly, and you landed on the floor without properly bracing yourself. Rookie mistake, you’d thought even in the moment.

That day, you didn’t think much of it. But then your leg started hurting throughout the day, especially your knee. When you went to the infirmary, the nurse advised you to take a few days off from dancing; the pressure of being en pointe wouldn’t help the shock from the impact of your landing. Few days then turned into 2 weeks, courtesy of a second opinion from the physician that you thought would help argue your case—which was to continue dancing.

Doyoung obviously saw the injury take place, and you can’t be sure if he took notice of your absence in class for the following two weeks. But that was the first and last time you ever partnered with him. And you made yourself a promise to never dance with him, again.

Up until now, it’s been pretty easy living up to that promise. Key words: until now.

Even getting up out of bed this morning was something you thought over more than once. Were you really ready to go ‘test the chemistry’ with the man that you more or less held a grudge against for the past 5 years? You know that you should let it go, it’s been 5 years—and besides, it’s not like the accident rendered you completely unable to dance again. And it wasn’t on purpose. You had to remind yourself of these facts every time you start feeling a sting from your knee shooting through your entire leg.

You walk into the studio, curtains to the windows drawn all the way back, the view of the city reflected on one of the walls entirely lined with mirrors. Colette is already there, alongside Rafael, the choreographer, and Doyoung is there, too.

“Just on time!” Colette greets you brightly.

You catch Doyoung’s eyes for a split second as you walk further into the room. His face carried an expression, one full of indifference. Does he recognise you?

You pull the strap of your bag off your shoulder, and drop it down in the corner of the room right in front of the mirror.

“Shall we get started?” Colette’s voice piques your collective attention. “The first duet we’re running over is the Act 2 pas de deux. I assume we’re all familiar with it?”

Her question is met with a couple of silent nods.

In Act 2, the Prince, Doyoung’s character, meets Odette, your character, for the first time. Prince Siegfried absolutely revels in Odette’s beauty, grace, and reserve.

Rafael pushes off the windowsill and makes his way over to you and Doyoung, standing in the centre of the room with an unnatural distance between you. You don’t know if he recognises you or not, and you’re not sure which option’s worse. A, that he recognises you but fails to even acknowledge his mistake that you’ve been stuck thinking about for the past couple of days, or B, that he doesn’t even recognise you because whatever happened was that insignificant to him.

Rafael begins to mark out the routine, highlighting the part in the duet— the pas de deux—where Siegfried caresses Odette’s face with his fingers, turning her head towards him. Following this intimate moment between the characters, there’s supposed to be two consecutive lifts performed by Siegfried that makes it appear like Odette is floating in the air. You’re standing very, very still as Rafael mimics these movements with little effort. 

When he’s done, he asks a simple, “Got it?” before turning to face the speakers. Doyoung utters a quiet, “Yeah,” but you can only manage a nod that Rafael catches in the reflection.

And so, the music begins.

You take your place slightly off centre with Doyoung a little bit behind you. He takes slow, conscious steps towards you. His hand reaches out, fingers with the goal of landing softly on your chin. And they do. The pads of his fingers are cold to the touch, sending a shiver down you as you turn your face to look at him. Before you get the chance to properly look at him, your cue to take centre stage comes. In a fluttering-like motion, you quickly alternate between each foot putting pressure on your toes, bringing your arms to fifth up above your head. There’s a build-up in the music, and you feel Doyoung’s fingers tightly wrapped around your ribcage. The anticipation builds in Colette. But then, you call out, “Wait!”

Confusion colours Colette’s face, “What’s wrong?”

Rafael pauses the music, leaving the room in silence. Doyoung’s fingers loosen around you.

“I don’t know if I can do this,” you admit with a clean-cut honesty. You put mind to not catch a glimpse of Doyoung’s reflection in the mirror before you.

Colette chuckles, “What do you mean?”

“I can’t be Odette.”

A stillness falls over everyone in the room, but particularly Colette. You meet her eyes, and there’s an uncharacteristic air of apathy to her. “You’re kidding. I mean, you didn’t even—”

Rafael physically takes a step in between you and Colette, Doyoung still silent in the situation. Rafael holds up a palm in Colette’s direction, then turns to face you. “Let’s start again in 5 minutes—is that okay with everyone?” 

You glance over at the mirror and see Doyoung’s reaction. He widens his eyes in annoyance, and leaves the centre of the room, heading straight for his stuff on the side.

A thinly rolled cigarette sandwiched between your lips, you flick on the lighter and bring up the flame to the end of the stick. You take a slow drag before resting your forearms on the railing that outlines the balcony, cigarette tucked in between your fingers. On one hand, you’re glad that Rafael stepped in before Colette could explode, but on the other, he’s now set a precedent that you’ll be happy to cooperate again in 5 minutes' time. You don’t know if that stands true. And it’s looking more like 2 minutes now that you found your way out here to have a quick smoke.

You hear the door behind you swing open as you take another drag. The sound of chatter mixed in with cutlery clanging together in the canteen rushes out into your ears. You look back over your shoulder, and it’s Rafael.

“Mind sharing?” He walks over to the edge of the balcony next to you, eyes looking pointedly at the cigarette in your hand.

Funnelling out a puff of smoke with closed lips, you flick off the ash and pass the stick to him.

“Colette send you out here to get me?” You watch as he inhales.

He shakes his head, eyes looking down as he sucks in before breathing out. There’s a few seconds of silence in between him shaking his head and actually beginning to speak. “If this is going to work, you’re gonna have to trust him.”

“Raf, you know what happened. The last time I trusted him, I couldn’t work for 2 weeks afterwards.” He gives you your cigarette back and you take it in between your thumb and your index finger.

He sighs. “I do know what happened, and I know it was an accident.”

“If it wasn’t an accident, it really wouldn’t help your case here,” you take another long, deliberate pull.

Rafael pauses, slowly observing you as you exhale smoke from your lips. “Don’t you have some faith in him as a dancer? That he’s improved throughout all these years?”

He’s met with no response from you.

“You know, that was the last time he ever made a mistake like that in partnering. How’d you think he kept his job these 5 years?”

“Last mistake as far as you know.” Your words come out more sharply than anticipated.

“If you’re still uncomfortable, that’s fine. It’ll just be a shame to replace you—Colette loved your audition.”

Replace? Not even 5 minutes and there’s already throwing around of the word ‘replace?’ You suppose you did explicitly state, “I can’t be Odette,” back there. Guess it’s no one’s fault but your own.

“He’s dedicated. Driven. You can trust him.”

You can trust him. Those 4 particular words echo around in your head.

You follow Rafael all the way back to the studio. Colette watching as Doyoung is in midst of a solo routine. He comes to a halt when he sees the pair of you step into the room. Colette and Rafael exchange a look, not too particularly sneaky about it, either.

“Happy to see you join us again,” Colette stands from her chair, palms pushing against her knees, “Ready to do your job?”

You suck in a deep breath through gritted teeth, “Yeah.”

“Same part again, with the lift.” Colette delivers those last three words with extra care.

And so, the music plays, the same melody reverberating off the walls of the room. It’s like you’re living in déjà vu. The same scene plays out with Doyoung reaching out to trace his fingers along your jaw. There’s still a stiffness in you, prominent enough that you’re aware of it, when he touches you.

The music crescendos. His fingers laid flat against your rib again, preparing to lift you up in the air. There are multiple challenges to this. One obviously being your mistrust in your partner, which is crucial in duets. The other being the condition that you’re supposed to look dream-like, ethereally graceful while simultaneously being hauled up into the air, with nothing supporting you but the arms of a man whom you’d rather not even look at, let alone get lifted by.

You can trust him.

Alongside the music cue, you bend your knees into a plié and when you straighten your legs again, the familiar thrill of being thrusted high up into the air takes over you. Following the choreography, Doyoung sets you back down, and before you know it, you’re propped up again. Your arms flutter lightly, resembling the wings of a swan as the back of your wrists meet each other over your head, arms mimicking an ellipse. 

Doyoung carefully helps you regain grounding by setting you back down slowly, his hands still tight around your waist. When he finally lets go, he mutters into your ear, “That wasn’t so hard, was it?”

You turn around, met with the same expressionless face as when you first saw him earlier.

“That was…” Colette interrupts, “…standard. Chemistry needs a little working on, but nothing time can’t fix.” For some reason, you feel like that was meant for you with the way Colette’s looking pointedly at you.

With the newly added responsibility of your lead role, your schedule is now a little fuller, and brighter. Mondays and Tuesdays are solo training days, whereas Wednesdays and Thursdays are partner practice, specifically with Doyoung. Your company has always had a policy where despite whatever specified training there is for whatever show that’s currently getting worked on, Fridays were always company class days. Meaning that every dancer—the corps de ballet, every artist, soloist, even the principal dancers—come and train together. It’s like that saying that corporate businesses have, “We’re not a team, we’re a family.” Except you can feel a bit more of the ‘family’ aspect here than you probably can at some corporate job.

The weekends are the weekends. You’re not on the clock, but there’s still an unspoken understanding that you will be dancing, practicing, training, especially now with a role like this.

It’s Friday afternoon. You’re tucked in the corner somewhere, next to Karina, both observing the quick demo that the instructor is going through in the centre of the massive stage, just big enough to occupy all the dancers of the Paris House of Ballet.

The instructor tells the pianist to begin playing the piece, and the first row of dancers take position at the back of the stage.

“So, how was training yesterday?” Karina tries to contain her feverish squeal as she asks.

You bite back a smile at her exhilaration. “It was good.”

“When are you going to start giving me details without having me to ask for them?”

“It was nothing special. I don’t know what you want me to say.” You respond, watching the dancers as they travel across the stage in a multitude of jumps and leaps. 

“Nothing special?” Karina elbows you in the side. You follow her eyes to see who’s across the room.

Doyoung stands in line for the next group of dancers to take the stage. A loose black tank top hangs onto his exposed shoulders, grey joggers sitting low on his hips. The stage lights do nothing but highlight his arms; how every muscle in them pull and stretch in different directions as he moves them.

You pull away from ogling at him. “Nothing special,” you repeat. “I don’t even think he recognised me.”

“You’re joking.”

“No. A man nearly ruins your life and doesn’t even remember you. What else do we expect?” 

You and Karina share a chuckle, and the pair of you walk into the stage lights, preparing for the first position of the sequence.

It’s been a week since your first practice session with Doyoung. A week makes it sound like you’d gotten some time to warm up to him, when in reality, you’ve seen him three individual times for practice, and not any of those times did he even try to make casual conversation. Or less even, small talk.

You’re expecting today to be no different. Spend 8 hours with each other; 8 hours with his hands all over you; 8 hours pretending like you’re desperately in love—only for the pair of you to not even catch glimpses of each other outside the practice room.

You’d just finished running through another one of the many duets you have with him, this time as Odile, when you read the less-than-satisfied expression Colette has on her face. Uh oh.

She exhales sharply. 

“It’s been a week.” Colette uncrosses her legs and pushes her glasses up into her hair. She stands up, one hand on the barre that disrupts the otherwise continuous panel of mirror on the wall. “One week. And you two still look like you’d rather piss at windmills than take your jobs seriously. Now, don’t get me wrong. Y/N, you’re very good at the rejection part—the falling in love part, not so much.”

The first time that you and Doyoung’s characters meet, he’s already head over heels for her. She, however, isn’t so keen on accepting his adoration, and it takes at least several dances before she’s done dismissing him.

You shoot Doyoung a quick glance. He has his hands on his hips, one of the sleeves of his T-shirt rolled up to his shoulder. “Well, it’s not easy to have chemistry with someone as dull as a rock,” you bite out.

That catches his attention.

“I’m sorry? I’m not the one who first freaked the fuck out the first time we practiced.” A record, truly. He said more than 5 words to you in conjunction at once. Not that that accomplishment is enough to distract you from what he said.

“You wanna know why I freaked the fuck out?” You take a step closer to him. “It’s because you—”

“Enough!” Colette cuts between the two of you. “You two obviously have some differences.” That’s putting it lightly, you thought. “You don’t need me to remind you that you’re professionals. So, stop acting out whatever lovers’ quarrel you have, and focus on the honeymoon phase, instead. Please.”

She sits down on the floor again, crossing her legs. “Need I remind you that our version ends with Siegfried and Odette dead, so you two better sell it to the audience while they’re alive.”

You and Doyoung slowly look at each other, both reluctant. He’s the first to drop his gaze as he takes his position behind you, readying himself for another showing of his strength that the routine calls for.

Before you leave practice that night, Colette requests that you stay behind. You prepare yourself, thinking that it’s a reprimanding from her telling you to act more hopelessly enamoured. But she doesn’t. Instead, she asks to see your fouettés.

That’s the thing with the role of Odile. She’s incredibly fierce. Maybe it’s due to the fact that she’s the literal daughter of a dark magician who can magic up some spirit to possess her. In Act 3, she’s supposed to flawlessly execute 32 fouettés in succession, without once losing her balance. Basically, 32 full turns on your toe and landing it perfectly afterwards, as if that’s not the most nauseating thing in the world to do.

In your audition, you did maybe three or four turns. Now, Colette’s basically asking you to do that, but times 10.

It’s a challenge, no doubt, and it’s one that you’re not sure if you can take.

You settle yourself. Feet in fourth position—dominant leg in front, and the non-supporting leg at the back. Your arms out in second to the side of you. And you push off of your back foot. If there’s one trick to keeping your balance, it’s spotting. Pick a spot anywhere in the room, and only look at that spot when turning.

The foot that you’re spinning on continually drop back down to gain momentum to push off onto your toe again. It’s no easy feat. You’re about 10, 11 turns in when you start to feel the effects of dizzying. Having the option to end now—though incomplete—but at least with the standards of your turns up to par, or fighting through to the very last turn, you decide on stopping now. 

You land the ending, coming down in a plié before rising up onto your toes in a relevé. 

Panting, you drop your arms to catch your breath. You look at Colette, trying to hide the eagerness in your eyes.

“I’ll need to see an improvement on those, too,” she says in an icy tone, “Don’t let me down.”

You find yourself walking in the streets of the city at night on the last day of the weekend, heading towards the practice studio. Sure, you could wait a few more hours before it’s time for you to clock in, anyway, but you couldn’t. Not really. Especially not after the comment Colette made a few days back.

You press your card up against the reader and the familiar sound of the doors clicking open resonates in your ears. 

You settle into your personal practice room, making no effort to turn on the lights. The windows that line the entirety of one side of the room is enough to let the lustre of the moon shine through, bathing the studio in a pale light.

You pull on your pointe shoes, wrapping your toes in a bandage-like material beforehand. Unlocking your phone, you look for the audio file that Colette sent to you of the very orchestra that will be performing alongside you in a few months’ time. Each orchestra performs each piece differently, however slight the difference is. It’s better to practice directly to them to get a hang of their nuisances, Colette’d said.

The music blares out from your phone, the tempo fast and the atmosphere lively. Your feet instinctively take their positions, and you push off on cue with the music.

No matter how many times you try tonight, there just seems to be something off. Either the spins are alright, but you lose your balance upon landing, or your supporting leg just wants to give out, or both. For most of the tries, it was both.

You come out of a failed series of fouettés. Bending over, you drop your hands to your knees, simultaneously trying to catch your breath. Then, that’s when you feel it. The ever-so-familiar acute stinging in your leg. For a moment, it’s so overwhelming that it physically causes you to scrunch your face up until it wears away a little by itself. A cloud of defeat looms over you.

You pick up your bottle off the floor and decide to go fill it up by the fountain outside. This part of the studio is much more modernised than the rest. There are two main hallways connected by a square courtyard—the garden, as the architects called it. The garden is enclosed within four entirely glass sliding doors, allowing access from every side. You don’t really know who’s watering the plants in the courtyard, because if it was up to the dancers, you know that those plants would’ve died a long while ago.

The room allocated to you is along one of the two hallways, directly facing the south side of the garden. You step out, heading towards the water fountain that stands in the middle of the two corridors, facing the west entrance to the courtyard.

You’re pushing down on the button to fill up your water bottle when you hear a tune that you immediately recognise. It’s the same one that you were just relentlessly listening to—or practicing to.

There’s a slight crack in one of the doors opposing yours. Tightening the lid on your bottle, you decide to quietly make your way over to the room on a whim. Who else is here on a weekend night? And practicing to the same piece as you?

You discreetly try to peek your head in, the crack in the door only allowing you to see a slight sliver of the practice room.

At first you don’t really see anything. Just the sound of the vivacious music. Then, a shadow of a figure leaps high up into the air, flying past the tiny window of what you can see before you can register it. You don’t want to think it, but it can only be one person.

One other person who has a part in this piece.

The music suddenly stops.

“Stop hiding.” A voice calls out.

You freeze. Your hunched over positioning has you locked. Shit. What do you do?

“I know you’re there.” The voice sounds again. A bit ominous on their behalf, if you do say so.

Quietly, you push open the door, allowing yourself to see more than just a sliver of the room. The lights aren’t turned on. 

Crouched over in front of the mirror is the one and only person you didn’t want to see: Doyoung. 

His dark long sleeve shirt only thinly veiling his torso, contrasted by his light plaid pants. He watches in the mirror as you step one foot, then another into his practice room. The beam of the moon illuminated his face, making it visible to you even from a distance that he’s been here for at least a while with how the sweat glistened on his face and neck.

Say something. Anything.

“I didn’t know you practiced til this late.” You say, swinging your water bottle and holding it with both hands behind your back.

“I could say the same for you.”

Was that an insult or a back-handed compliment? Or you’re just reading too much into it.

Doyoung moves his foot out from under him with a groan, so now he’s sitting on the floor. He tears his eyes away from you in favour of whatever he’s looking at on his phone. A prolonged silence falls upon the room. If it was anyone else in the room with you, it probably won’t be as uncomfortable, but it’s not.

You rock onto the balls of your heels, about to turn back around and leave, but Doyoung breaks the silence.

“I’m sorry. For what I said the other day… and for what happened.” 

He utters the last part of his sentence so quietly that you can barely make it out. Half-stunned, half-confused, you stare at him. So, he does recognise you.

You steadily take step after step towards him until you’re at a normal distance for a conversation between two people, then you sit down next to him.

“I forgive you.”

“Like that?”

“Yeah. People are often surprised at what maturity can do for you as an adult.”

For a split second, you’d swear he was holding back a chuckle. “That coming from you?”

You twist off the lid to your water bottle to take a sip, “I’ll pretend I didn’t hear that.”

He leans back onto his hands behind him. A beat passes. “So, where’s my ‘sorry’ back?”

You set down the bottle in front of you. “If you’re expecting something back, then it wasn’t a real apology.”

He drops his head to the side to look at you. Eyes dark, a careful consideration of you sitting there next to him. Doyoung swallows tightly. There’s a steady rising and falling of his chest.

“I am really sorry. I never knew what happened after, then. I only found out when Rafael told me recently.”

“I guess… I didn’t expect you to know.”

A new wave of silence washes over the two of you, only this time, it’s by degrees less uncomfortable than the last.

Doyoung lifts his palms from the ground and crosses his legs, imitating your position on the floor. With his shift in positioning, there comes a shift in energy as well.

“Obviously, I want to do well. But I don’t want to look good owing to the fact of my partner’s lack of skill…” He says with an arched brow.

“Yeah…” you tilt your head at him, “Not the most desirable pitch. Try again.”

His lips twitch in an attempt to hide his smirk from you. “I’m saying… I’m willing to put our differences aside for this one time. For both of our sakes.” He extends his hand out to you, as if to initiate a business handshake, “Deal or no deal?”

You look at him, then his hand, then back at him again. Leaning forward, you fit your palm into his, “Deal.”

ACT II THE PAS DE DEUX

You thought that ever since you made that deal with Doyoung that things might be different. That he might start acting like a normal human being with normal human emotions. How silly of you to think that. Truth is, he hasn’t changed one bit since that night you bumped into him. Practices are still wordless. You still barely see him outside of your schedules. And even when you do, he pretends like he doesn’t see you, in the corridors, in the canteen, everywhere. That’s not to say that everything stayed the same.

It’s the week following your run-in with him. A Thursday, so your schedule dictates that you have duet practice with Doyoung.

“Good,” Colette calls out from her folding chair, “You two don’t look like you want to murder each other for once.” She doesn’t know what happened between you but she doesn’t care for it as long as you and Doyoung can look like you can at least tolerate each other.

It’s intimidating when you think about it. How he can go from looking so deeply infatuated one second, then the moment the music is over, his face drops. Eyebrows straightened. Just absolutely no emotion shown through his expression. You can’t help but wonder which version of him is genuine: The one who seemed truly apologetic in the dimmed practice room, or this one. The version of him that he parades around everywhere he goes. How do you even begin to tell what’s an act and what isn’t?

Every time his fingers touch you, you still feel a chill running down you. Though, you’ve come to learn how to hide it better.

Practice is finished for the night. The teal of the horizon begins to blend together with the darker blue of the night sky. Doyoung wastes no time in gathering his stuff the second Colette said that you were done for tonight. You try to do the same but Colette stops you. Her slender fingers wrapped tightly around your arm.

“Before you go, Y/N.”

She takes her hand off of your arm. The red frames of her glasses sit low on her nose bridge and she angles her head downwards to look at you, as if you’re a particularly difficult to read section of a newspaper. 

“I still need to see you land those fouettés. I’m giving you one— …two weeks, before I have to intervene.”

One of her eyebrows are cocked, the brightness of her eyes do nothing but emphasise the severity in her tone. Her harshness isn’t something you’re not used to, but every time she exerts this power over you, you can’t help but feel slightly humiliated. Who wouldn’t? To have someone repeatedly on your tail felt like having them pry open a wound, and before it even has time to scab, they’re back pricking and pouring salt into it. Except that wound is found on your ego.

You take a deep breath in, and try to force your lips into an understanding smile. “Yeah,” you say in a cheery enough tone.

You suppose that’s the way it is in ballet. That’s how it is in many things in life. Everyone’s after perfection, and no one is able to execute it.

This weekend, you decide to do something you haven’t done in three weeks: Stay in.

The last three weekends you’ve spent draining yourself away at the studio, but due to Karina’s request, you decide otherwise this time.

She sends you a message telling you that she’s 5 minutes away from your place. It’s no secret that the pressure of these last few weeks have been steadily building on you, especially to Karina. 

You open the wooden cupboard and pull a bottle of red wine from it, setting it onto the kitchen island in the middle of your open-plan kitchen. A soft orange paints the skyline, clouds pulling from each other like cotton candy. On one end of the island, there stood the doors leading to the balcony, enclosed by wrought iron fences. Technically speaking, it was a balcony, but in actuality, it was just a ledge—a glorified floor-to-ceiling window that you can open, really. 

You push open the balcony doors and the sound of the city fills your living space. The traffic a few stories down, people’s voices from the street or coming from the open balconies to either side of your complex. You stare off into the horizon, a flock of shadowed birds flies across your field of vision over the city.

Then, a ding sounds out.

You step back inside, walking across your kitchen to the other end of the island where the main door was. You slide open the door chain and push down on the handle. The door swings inwards, and stood outside in the hallway of your apartment complex was Karina, a bright smile on her face. “I got sushi!”

You pour the red wine into a glass that you set down on the counter, then another glass next to that. In one hand, you sit the bowl of one glass on the part of your hand that your fingers connect between, in the other hand, you wrap your fingers around the other rim and take a sip as you make your way over to the living space. Karina’s already sat down on one of the bean bags facing the TV. As you pass her, you lower one of the drinks to her and she takes the stem in between her fingers.

She hums tunefully to your offering.

You plop down on the leather couch next to her, careful enough as to not spill your wine. Throwing your head backwards onto the back of the couch, you sigh.

“What?” Karina asks with a slight smile in her eyes, taking a small sip of the wine.

You look at her through lowered eyelids, your head completely resting on the couch. “Nothing. I’m glad you came over tonight.”

She smiles. Shifting in her bean bag, she props one leg up as she leans forward to set down her glass on the wooden coffee table. “Come on,” reaching over, she puts her palm on your knee and gives you a gentle shake, “I know there’s something on your mind.”

Your lips purse together and pout to the side.

You met Karina a few months into your career as a professional dancer. It was a usual day for you, having recently returned to work from your injury. Every time you spotted Karina either on the barre or in centre, she looked so immersed into her craft. You remember being so impressed by her skill and control. Every movement of her arms looked so fluid, flowing from one position to another seamlessly. The power she held in her leaps were something else, as well. Her precision, even in the most consuming of movements, was something to be admired. Safe to say, it was to your surprise when she lined up behind you in the lunch queue and started making casual conversation. “Y/N, right?” She’d asked with a smile.

You found out that day that Karina went to the same conservatory as you. Though a grade below you, she was signed to the company as an mentee the year you graduated, so she never fully finished her course. She knew of you when you two were both enrolled at the conservatory, but your paths never crossed into more than just a polite smile and a nod territory. Since day one, she had a sort of optimism to her that you’d grown to love and appreciate especially throughout the years. In such an unforgiving and rigid industry, Karina’s softness continues to be your lantern leading you through the dark.

“So?” Leaning back into her bean bag, Karina prompts once again, glass back up to her lips.

You mirror her actions, taking a sip from the rim and disassembling the flavours in between your cheeks before swallowing. “Colette,” you mouth to her as if you two were sharing secrets you shouldn’t be.

Karina’s inquisitive expression urged you to elaborate.

You sigh, bringing your shoulders up and dropping them. “I can’t get my turns right, for Odile’s coda. And she basically told me that if I don’t get my shit together, she’s gonna have to ‘intervene.’” You arch your brow when you recall Colette’s words to you.

“Meaning…?”

“I don’t know—probably replace me.”

There’s a range of comforting words that Karina can pick from to say to you, but a small portion of them would be true. Her hand goes up to her bottom lip, tugging at them as she thinks—a habit that she’d never grown out of. 

“She won’t replace you.” Karina settles on the ‘not true’ section of the scope of her responses, her hand muffling her words. Both you and her know it. And it’s not due to the fact that Karina—or yourself, for that matter—thinks you’re not good enough for the role, it’s just how things are. It’s how Colette is: simple and straightforward. You can’t play a role? Someone else can—and they will. It’s never personal. Except it always feels like it is.

Still, you break out a weak smile at her attempt at reassuring you.

You lean your head back again, eyes now fixed on the ceiling and the base of the lamp that hung low over the coffee table.

“I think it’s my knee,” you admit for the first time out loud. You never wanted to talk about your accident because you were afraid that people might think you were making up excuses. This time, you felt like you were running out of options for explanations.

“Your knee?” At the mention, Karina leans forward in her seat.

“Yeah,” though unintentional, your words come out as a whisper. You clear your throat before continuing, “Every time after practice, my knee just starts hurting. Not insanely bad, but worse than before.”

“I didn’t know it was hurting before.” Karina has this expression on her face that’s almost like she’s interrogating you about this.

You can’t hide the sheepishness in your face and your tone, “It wasn’t serious.”

“Have you told Colette?”

You shake your head. 

“Y/N. You have to tell her.”

“And for what? To give her another reason to start looking for my replacement?”

Karina takes a deep, shaky breath in, like she’s uncertain about something. “Surely, she’d understand. Maybe it’ll at least throw her off your back for some time.”

Your eyes remain fixed on the ceiling. Maybe it’s a good idea. Maybe you should tell Colette. That’s an issue for another day, though.

There’s many different ways to approach the character of Odile, but at the core of it, she’s a seductress. Everything that she does comes back to her motive to seduce—and more specifically, the Prince. It doesn’t come as a surprise to you or your choreographer when your expressions don’t match your intent. 

To pretend to be in love is one thing. You’ve got years upon years of teenage pining experience to fall back on. But the art of seduction? No one has time for that.

‘Look more sultry. Look more alluring.’ Raf had said to you. And to your credit, you try but it’s already hard enough to have to spin and jump and twirl and leap, and now you have to look tantalising doing that? And all that’s considering the fact that you even want to try.

Your hours on the clock has finished for the night, but you find yourself starting to stay behind on most nights more often than not.

Kneeling down in front of the mirror, you rifle through your bag until your fingertips find a small, card box. You flip open the tab of the box and pull out one of the cigarettes, noting to yourself that you only have two others left. Then, you rummage through the pockets of your jacket for your lighter. With your necessities in your hands, you amble out of your room, turning the lights off as you leave. The hallways are fuller than usual, with plenty of soloists finishing at the same time as you. You weave your way through a group of dancers walking down the corridor and slide open one of the glass doors to the garden.

The hallway floors surrounding the garden is taller than the cobblestone ground of the courtyard, making it so that there’s a ledge as you step a foot inside. You sit yourself down on the step, one side of your body leaning against the opened glass door. You slot the cigarette between your lips as you bring up both your hands. One of them sparking on the lighter as the other goes to cover the flame by habit. 

You go to pocket your lighter—again, habit—only to realise that you’re not wearing your jacket, so your second best option was to just put it on the ground next to where you’re sitting. Just as you’re about to pull the dampened filter tip away from your lips, a voice appears out of nowhere behind you.

“You should really quit that. It’s not good for you.”

The surprise of it nearly chokes you, coughing out quietly again and again as the smoke escapes your lips. You look behind you but you didn’t need to see to know who it was.

You manage out one final cough. And towering over you stood Doyoung. Eyes lowered, posture upright, as if he’s literally and figuratively looking down on you.

“Yeah? When did you start caring about what’s good for me?” You put your cigarette back in between your lips right as you finish your sentence, a clear edge of hostility in your voice. Doyoung watches your cigarette between your fingers as you take a deliberately long drag. You’re not even finished when he answers you back.

“When you became my partner.”

What a liar, you thought. That explains why he’s been ignoring you everywhere.

The conclusion that Kim Doyoung is nothing but a liar quickly turns into the fact that he’s a narcissist when you put together the ideas that he’s only talking to you now because you’re doing something—smoking—that he personally frowns upon. And he can’t be having his ‘partner’ tarnishing his reputation.

“Don’t you love when someone expresses how much they care about you with their show of apathy towards you?” You remark, almost with an impatience in your tone, but a playful sarcasm on your face instead. Smoke pours out of your lips with every word that you speak, and you blow the rest of it to the side. The heat spreading from your chest comes as a shock to you. Before this, you hadn’t known truly how much it annoyed you that your existence went by unnoticed by Doyoung, although you knew it had to be an act.

Doyoung squats down so that he’s near enough eye level with you, elbows resting on his knees. He tilts his head to the side, eyes scanning your face quickly, then the stick sat in your fingers, burning itself away slowly. “Don’t tell me you’re stressed because of me,” he mutters lowly.

You lean forward an inch or two. “Believe me when I say you’re the root of most of my problems nowadays.” 

Doyoung holds back a subtle smirk on his lips, but not enough that you can’t completely pick up on it. He eyes your cigarette again, “Then, I guess you better stock up on those.”

He stands up and walks across the hallways into his practice room.

You turn your body, facing the inside of the garden. Glancing to the side, you see that the stick has burned down to nearly the filter. You quickly stub it out against the cobblestone before it gets to burning your fingers.

Days feel more like dreams to you. The repetition of what you do everyday is starting to blur the arbitrary line that separates every 24 hours from each other. And when you step foot into the shared studio between you and Doyoung, this very feeling engulfs you. 

Colette is sat in her folding chair, fingers typing away in a fit on her screen, and Doyoung is rummaging through his bag in the corner.

The conversation that you had with Karina crawls into your mind. Is today the day? You’ve been contemplating telling Colette ever since that night, but you haven’t been confronted with a chance, yet. You take cautious step after another into the room. The soles of your shoes making a light smacking noise as it lifts the linoleum flooring along with it with every step you take. You try to subtly keep an eye on Colette as you walk past her—making an effort to gauge her mood before you decide if you should tell her or not. She looks happy enough today.

You slump your bag down in front of the mirror, mind preoccupied with weighing the pros and cons of the decision that’s kept you up several nights in a row now. You’re so out of it that you didn’t even notice you set your things down right next to Doyoung, when you had to option to do so literally anywhere else.

He doesn’t say anything, simply looking up at you with a slightly inquisitive look. Then, he quirks his eyebrows when you meet his gaze. Though normally, you probably would’ve made some sarcastic remark about this, you didn’t today—or couldn’t.

You leave your things where they are, and step towards where Colette is—her attention still solely fixed on her phone.

“Colette, I have something I need to tell you.”

Your hands are brought up to your stomach, fingers interlocking with each other and then unclasping, and then locking again. She looks lost into her own world, not even a slight hum or a nod of the head to acknowledge you standing right in front of her.

“Colette?”

“Hold that thought,” she finally replies, holding out one finger towards you, head still angled down.

“It’s—”

“I have something exciting planned for you guys today!”

She jumps up out of her seat, catching you off-guard as you stumble one step behind you. Your lips mouth into an ‘Um’ shape, reluctant to ask her about what’s so exciting about today. Lucky for you, Doyoung took the pleasure in asking.

“What is it?”

“Costumes!” Colette exclaims, excitement practically bursting out of her. “They’re coming now!”

And right on cue, a metal clothing rack rolls in through the practice doors. The designer and her assistant both pushing the costumes in behind it. Right away, you spot your two distinct tutus and a couple of blouses for Doyoung.

The rack comes to a halt right in front of you. Colette instantly goes to grab a hanger with the Odette costume hung up on it. It’s both traditional, and beautiful.

The bodice of the costume fashions a plunging neckline, of which is lined with white feathers. There are crystals decorating the bodice, scattered all over the corset but primarily concentrated at the neckline. The tutu itself is showy, for sure. Bigger than any other tutu you’ve ever worn. There are multiple layers to it, and you’re surprised that it can even fan out by itself due to how heavy it looks. The bottom layers are made out of tulle, the surface of it outlined by embroideries in golden thread resembling those of feathers. On top of that, actual feathers are finely sewn into the waistband of the tutu, blending the bodice in. The whole costume, instead of being white, has the slightest hint of blue to it, making it so that it’s more of a bright white. It looks like the pure embodiment of heaven.

“Go on!” Colette urges, “Try it on!” She pushes the hanger into your chest, making you grab ahold of your costume. Then, she grabs multiple blouses off the rack and hands them to Doyoung, urging him the same.

The two of you listen to Colette, pulling your costumes on in front of the mirror. Your bodice is absolutely tailor-made to fit you. Colette can’t stop shaking her head and mumbling out words of awe and wonderment when she looks at you.

You glance over at Doyoung all the way across the room from you. His blouse the manifestation of royalty. His costume, like yours, consists of a white blouse with a deep neckline, with a fancy looking jacket layered atop of it. The jacket has the same matching gold embroidery all along the hems, the sleeves and the closures. The buckle in the front and the puffed-up shoulder pads adds to the regality of it all.

You study him in his costume. Looking him up and down, and back up again. He doesn’t notice this, or at least you don’t think so; he’s too busy ogling at himself in the mirror. His chest is slightly exposed by the depth of the blouse’s neckline, making it so that you can see the contours of his collarbones and his pecs. 

As much as you’d hate to admit it, he looks exactly like the part he’s playing—a Prince. 

The designer walks around you, holding up the waistband of your tutu. She clips the excess elastic together and she looks over to her assistant, mumbling something you can’t hear too well. “Nearly perfect,” she points at the black tutu still on the hanger, “Now try this one.”

After the designer finished marking down any adjustments the either of you needed, practice continued on as usual. During the midst of it, you’d forgotten all about the beginning of the session when you first walked in, that is until Colette of all people reminds you.

“Oh—you wanted to talk to me, Y/N?”

Your arms are held up above your head, hands trying to pull back loose strands of hair that’d flown free from the hours you’ve just spent exerting yourself. “Uh, yeah,” you quietly respond, a bobby pin clenched between your teeth.

You eye Doyoung, only to see that he’s doing the same. As soon as you meet his gaze, he looks away, back down onto his bag that he’s holding open to stuff his water bottle into.

Colette glances down at the watch on her wrist, “Well, come on, then. I have places to be.”

You take the pin out from between your lips and slide it somewhere into the back of your hair. “Um,” you mumble as you walk on closer to Colette. The same nervousness that had burned within you earlier returns, but this time, it’s even more amplified with the presence of Doyoung, for whatever reason.

Suddenly, you don’t feel like telling Colette anymore, and it’s not even because of her.

You try to speak as lowly as possible, almost muttering under your breath. Colette, however, doesn’t pick up on this too well, prompting you to speak a bit clearer.

You breathe in. “My knee. I know I’ve been causing you some trouble lately, but just give me some time. I’ll sort it out.” You don’t know if that was quiet enough so that Doyoung doesn’t hear and you don’t want to look in the reflection to see his reaction in case he did. “I promise,” you whisper.

Colette hears you this time, though, and her expression instantly softens. Her lips open, mouthing an ‘O’ shape, and her brows furrow in understanding. Colette lays a gentle palm on your shoulder, lips pursing together as she takes a deep breath in. Then, she sharply exhales. 

“If you really can’t do it, tell me.” She continues with a subtle shaking of the head, “We still have time now, but when it’s further down the road…”

You give her a firm, eager nod.

On the surface, you want to—need to—seem understanding. It was the reasonable thing to do. But deep down, all of what she’s saying just serves as a reminder of how replaceable everyone and anyone is. If you were to change how you viewed the situation, you can’t say that that’s a bad motivator, but it’s not the greatest one either. 

When you turn back around, Doyoung isn’t at his spot anymore. You’re looking at an empty room with the contents of your bag spilling out onto the floor in one corner.

Colette left moments after your conversation hurriedly to some meeting. You slump down onto the floor, knees tucked up to your chest and arms wrapping around them—not caring for your posture. The silence of the room rings in your ears, and that’s when you notice the sprinkling of raindrops against the window of the practice room.

The view outside is monochrome—all varying shades of grey. The sky was a light grey with pockets of white poking through, the buildings looked duller than usual under the gloom, and the streets were a dark grey, the rain further darkening the concrete. You watch one tiny bead of rain slowly run down the glass pane, rolling into other beads as they tumble down together.

“Is that true?”

Jesus Christ. Your shoulders jump up and your head turns to the door.

Someone sure has a habit of sneaking up on you unannounced. 

Doyoung’s hair is unstyled, the front parts of it covering his eyebrows and nearly touching the rims of his glasses. A white long-sleeve hangs loosely on his frame, with the fabric on his shoulder bunching up under the strap of his bag.

This is the first time that he’s shown up to practice looking like he’s actually showing up to practice. Usually, he’d make more of an effort to present himself—not that he even looks that much different. You hadn’t noticed this subtle change in his appearance until now, as he’s sneaking up on you, once again.

He approaches you gradually, a steadiness in his pacing.

“What?” You mumble with your eyelids fluttering as if you’re blinking back your consciousness, not even truly registering what he’d said—you’d been too caught off-guard with his sudden appearance.

“What you told Colette—is it true?”

He’s now a step or two away from you. This scene feels familiar, too.

For a split second, you truly have no idea what he’s referencing, but then it comes to you.

“About me sorting myself out? Yeah, I hope it’s true,” You respond in an attempt to hopefully deflect the conversation. A sarcastic expression draws on your face with your brows raised. You look away from Doyoung and into the mirror where you can see the two of you in the practice room as if you were a third person observer.

You were expecting a snarky remark coming from him but you don’t get one. Instead, you can see him just watching you intently in the reflection, as if he’s at a lost for words.

“About your leg,” he bluntly states. No audible emotion, no wavering in tone, just three plain, simple words.

It’s as if your eyes are drawn to Doyoung like how opposite poles of a magnet are drawn to each other. When you look at his face, there’s a solemnity to his features that’s teetering on the verge of unease.

There’s only one train of thought running through your mind. It’s that version of him again from that first night in the practice rooms. You can’t quite decide whether you like this Doyoung more, or the normal Doyoung more, but in this moment, you know you much prefer the unaffected version of him. 

You’ve never been one prone to sharing your vulnerabilities, especially not with someone like him. You’re not intending on starting now. “What are you asking me?”

“I think it’s pretty clear what I’m asking.” He says this in such a matter-of-fact manner, it’s hard to assess what his motive here is. Does he care? What is the goal here?

You’re trying to analyse the situation, but to Doyoung, he just wants to know. All the mental gymnastics you’re doing in your head—Doyoung does none of that.

“To you—probably.” Still, you continue to try to diffuse this weird tension between the two of you. You get up on your feet, clapping your hands together to get rid of any dust on them. You mutter out a quiet, “Well,” under your breath as you walk towards your things in the corner. Doyoung watches you in silence as you pack your things up; unlacing your pointe shoes, pulling them off and shoving them inside the bag.

You slide the strap onto your shoulders and get up to leave. As you walk by Doyoung, you feel the familiar touch of his fingers wrap around your wrist. The cold of his hands raise goosebumps all along your arm, and simultaneously freezes you in place. 

“Let me fix this.”

His voice is soft, and gentle, unlike his grasp on your wrist. 

Your eyes dart downwards towards his hand on you. You try to squirm free of his hold but he doesn’t let you. “Let me go.”

“Let me fix it,” he repeats.

“Fix what? There’s nothing you can do,” Your voice trails off.

Doyoung looks into your eyes, gaze unfaltering. The window to the side of him reflects in his irises, making his eyes appear glassier than normal. Without taking his eyes off you, he slowly starts to loosen his fingers around you.

“It’s my fault,” Doyoung says this in a way that’s as if he’s exhaling his words. The syllables following each other as he breathes out.

You look at him, and he doesn’t shy away and avoid your gaze. You’re looking at him and he’s there, fully. Just a few months back, you’re thinking of what you would give to have this very moment. To have him acknowledge his mistake, and to fully take responsibility like he’s doing now. Just a few weeks ago, you accepted that you would never get this—that Doyoung isn’t the type of person to bring you this kind of closure. And yet, here you are, with him standing right in front of you in a confrontation that you thought was impossible.

It’s not an apology, like that first night. It’s recognition. And now that you have both from him, you can’t help but wonder: why doesn’t it feel as relieving as you thought it would be?

“It was an accident,” you correct him. You speak those words aloud and they echo inside of your head. Those same words that you had to tell yourself over and over, the same thing that you had to convince yourself of through the years, now you’re here using them again.

“An accident that I caused.”

There’s an eerie feeling inside of you. This conversation isn’t productive, and it’d do more harm than good if you continue letting Doyoung play the blame game.

“It’s not your fault. And I’m fine now, aren’t I?” You lift your foot and stick your leg out slightly, turning it from side to side.

Doyoung watches for a brief moment before he begins again, “Just… Let me make it up to you.”

“And how are you planning on doing that?”

His eyes are back on yours and you notice the slight dip of his Adam’s apple as he swallows subtly. He sucks his lips in, lightly wetting them.

“Whatever you need me to do to make this right.”

Your stomach emits a faint grumble, but clear enough in the otherwise silent practice room that you’re sure both you and Doyoung heard it. You try to hold back a chuckle.

“Pay me back with dinner. That’s what you can do.”

Doyoung and you first agreed on dinner at some restaurant close to the both of you. However, those plans were quickly replaced not long after they were made. Simply due to the reason that Doyoung usually cooks his own meals, and he didn’t want to smear his perfect record.

Originally, he was supposed to treat you to dinner the night he asked, but something came up, so it got moved to tonight. It’s been a week since you agreed to let him cook dinner for you and it hasn’t really crossed your mind until now. 

You’re standing right in front of your mirror, contemplating what to wear. Maybe you could’ve—or should’ve—given more thought to this. And it’s right now that you’re just beginning to question what tonight is.

It’s just a casual dinner between friends, you tell yourself. But, you’re not friends. At least you didn’t think you were to him. Or maybe it’s just what you said it was—something he can do to ‘make up’ for his mistake.

All of this is running through your head as you’re holding up outfit after outfit up to your reflection. Your bed is littered with shirts, jeans, skirts, dresses; anything that you’ve ever owned. You’re not sure what kind of message you want to send with what you’re wearing, and you didn’t know if it really mattered, anyway.

Eventually, you narrow down your options to two dresses. One of them being a fitting black dress; sleeveless. The other is also black, slightly more appropriate for a club setting with the way the neckline is cut. You settle on the more modest of the options.

Pulling it on over your head, you can feel a slight tinge of embarrassment colouring your cheeks. You look into the mirror, suddenly becoming increasingly aware of what you look like. Self-awareness isn’t something you’d lacked, especially as a dancer, but tonight… it was different. You felt aware of yourself in a different way for better or worse.

You attempt to shake this feeling off, reminding yourself that tonight is just another regular night—nothing special to it. It’s just dinner.

After making yourself feel a little less on edge, you grab a nearby matching purse and throw on a jacket, then, you head out. You make your way to Doyoung’s apartment not too far from yours. It’s about 15 minutes away by walking, even less if you’re taking the subway. Considering how small the city really is, it’s not a surprise that he lives so close to you.

You take a second glance at your phone to make sure you got the right address before knocking on the apartment door. Your fist raps firmly against the wooden surface. For the first time tonight, your head is blank. Don’t get it twisted, the nervousness is still in you like it’s seeped into your bones, but any thoughts—doubtful or not—are nowhere to be found; only the echo of your knocking ricocheting off the walls of your mind.

The wait in between you making yourself known and Doyoung opening the door to his apartment is painful. Excruciating anticipation waltzing in every muscle of yours. You consider turning back around, walking away before Doyoung sees you, but before you even have a chance to move, the door swings open.

And there he stood. Head a little bit below the door frame, eyes widened, and an open stance. His black button-up is undone at the collar, exposing just enough of his collarbones that you know he left them undone for that very purpose. One side of his shirt is loosely tucked into his jeans, which had a leather belt wrapped around it. His sleeves are rolled up to his elbows and you can see steam rising from behind him. 

“Hi.”

“Hi.”

You greet him first, waiting for any indication to be let in. Instead, Doyoung stands in the way of the doorway, eyes fixed on you.

“Uh—You’re not burning anything, are you?” You ask lightheartedly, a finger pointing over his shoulder to where the steam is.

It’s like Doyoung snaps awake with a shake of his head. “Oh!” He looks over his shoulder at the pot on the stove. “No,” he reassures you as he turns back to you. Simultaneously, his body moves out of the way to let you into his place, “Sorry—Come in.”

You step through the doorway into his apartment. It’s similar to yours; an open-plan kitchen with two other rooms and a balcony. Except, his balcony can actually be considered one. Through the glass doors leading outside, you see a small square table with a white tablecloth over it, two chairs set up on either side. There’s two empty wine glasses placed on top.

“You have a nice place,” the hesitation that you can hear in your own voice made you want to crawl up and fall through the floor. Small talk has never been your forte. 

Doyoung shuts his door quietly and he turns back around to face you. “Thanks,” he takes a shallow breath in. He drops his arms from behind his back to his sides, straightening his posture subtly. “You look nice.”

And there it was again. His change in demeanour. You’re so focused on the sudden flash of indifference on his face that you don’t even pay attention to his words. It’s not like tonight wasn’t already confusing for you, he had to go and add to that confusion himself.

You mumble out a quiet, “Thanks,” not knowing what to think of his compliment. You’re grateful for the tiny hum of classical music in the background as you and Doyoung both stand somewhat awkwardly away from each other. You divert your eyes away from him and spot where the music is playing from—the vinyl record player tucked away in the corner of the open room.

It doesn’t surprise you that Doyoung is playing classical music as he cooks—he seems the type.

“If you want, you can sit down,” he speaks up. Doyoung extends a palm towards the balcony, “Dinner’s nearly ready. I’ll bring it out.”

You pull your lips into a tiny smile as you walk past him towards the glass doors. Sliding them open, you feel a gentle evening breeze brush against your skin.

Not only is his balcony better than yours, his view is also better. The platform looks over the main street, and you can’t help but wonder how the hell did he manage to rent a place like this. Directly across the wide open road are other apartment complexes, but on the ground, there are countless cafés, bars, restaurants, flower shops—everything. The warm glow from the lights within these establishments light up the street in a mellow manner.

You pull out one of the patio chairs and sit yourself down, a gentle wind blowing past again and getting caught in your hair. The faintest whisper of the symphony from inside travels all the way to you. You take in a lungful of fresh air—as fresh as city air can be—and lean forward on your palms placed on the edge of the seat.

It’s not long before Doyoung comes out with two plates in his hands. He sets one down in front of you first, then the other in his place.

“Do you want a drink?” He offers softly.

“Yeah, sure.” You get the feeling that you might’ve answered him a little too eagerly.

He disappears inside and shortly comes back out with a tall tinted bottle in his hand. Doyoung takes a seat across from you, his attention fixated on the things set out in front of him. He takes your glass into his hands, pouring a red wine into it carefully. Then, he does the same with his own. Once he’s done, he sets the bottle down onto a little trolley to the side of the table which you hadn’t noticed before.

He takes his glass, tipping its rim towards you. You take that as a signal and mirror him.

“Cheers.” You clink your glasses together, a clear ring sounding out as a result. Doyoung notices that when you go to drink your wine, you are most certainly not pacing yourself the way you should. One gulp, and the cup is a quarter-full, having only been half-empty when he poured it out.

One drink then turned into two, which quickly turned into another. The evening had gone better than you’d expected, better than you’d hoped. You thought that it might as well be you and him eating in detention for how conversation-less it usually is between the two of you, but tonight proved you wrong. Frankly, you knew it had to be due to the alcohol.

The pair of you explored many different topics: the weather; if aliens are real; whether or not you believe in astrology; your biggest dreams; cereal or milk first; et cetera, et cetera. But the topic of the reason for this whole night never came up, or the two of you were just extremely skilled in avoiding talking about it.

“After I graduated from the conservatory in Seoul, I wasn’t set on what I wanted to do,” Doyoung’s words had a slight slur to them, barely noticeable if you’re not paying attention. He picks up his glass from the table, this being his third of the night. “I was 18 at the time. I took a year off to travel and by the time I turned 19, I found myself here in Paris,” he continues, an easy flow in his voice. He takes a sip of the wine, “And I fell in love with it.”

You’re leaning back into your chair, swirling around the glass in your hand. Before you can even think of what to say back to him, Doyoung speaks again.

“What about you? How did you end up here?”

He downs the entirety of the contents in his glass, face turned away from you. You lean forward onto the table as Doyoung sets the goblet down lightly. Tilting your head away from him, you watch as the red liquid swirls and ripple over in the bowl with the movement of your hand, creating a vortex.

You return your gaze back onto Doyoung. His cheeks are lightly blushed; the tip of his nose, too. You exhale sharply.

“I’ve always been here. Guess I knew what I wanted to be since I was little and… I stuck with it.”

“That’s impressive,” Doyoung comments. You can tell he’s half there and half not.

“I suppose,” you mutter under your breath. You’re confident that Doyoung couldn’t hear you.

There’s a beat of silence, with the music in the background finishing right at this moment. Then, it starts up again. You hadn’t been paying particular attention to Doyoung’s choice in music for the earlier part of the night, but this particular piece catches your attention. And it looks like it catches his, too.

The familiar introduction passage travels all the way to the balcony fadedly, despite it’s lively nature. You recognise it as the accompaniment to the Black Swan pas de deux that you have practiced with Doyoung numerous times now.

The two of you share a glance before Doyoung gives in.

“Shall we?”

You hesitate at first. This is silly, you thought. Doyoung extends a hand towards you. 

“I don’t have my shoes,” you counter.

“So, what? It’s just for fun,” he urges you playfully, hand now closer to you.

Then, you give in. You place your palm into his as he leads you back inside of his apartment. There’s enough space inside for you to move around comfortably, but not to perform a whole duet. The two of you half-heartedly dance along to the music, mainly relying on muscle memory for the piece. For the second time tonight, your mind is blank. You’re only tuning into the music and letting your body move the way it wants, no thoughts dictating your actions at all.

A part of the choreography calls for Doyoung to place his hands on your arms from behind you, and wrap them around yourself, which is then followed by Odile rejecting this show of affection. Doyoung’s touch on your forearms is delicate, like a feather brushing past you. Yet, there seems to be a moment in which he holds on and lingers in his position for a little longer than expected. In that same very moment, you didn’t want to move on with the choreography, sending him away with a firm denial of his fondness. The Prince’s fondness.

The first parts of the music comes close to finishing. The last vibrato of the violin sounds out as you spin into Doyoung’s arms, flesh out an arabesque, shift into fifth position, and lean your torso forward. Doyoung slides onto one of his knees, hands catching your waist as you tilt into him with one leg up in the air and arms behind you.

Your wrists flick downwards right along with the last notes of the melody.

Your faces are close to one another. You feel that if you were to lean forward even just an inch more, the tips of your noses would touch.

The music comes to a halt. That’s when the sound of your breathing alongside Doyoung’s becomes noticeable. You can feel your chest burn with every rise and fall. Doyoung looks deeply into your eyes in a way that he’s never done before in all the times you’ve finished this piece with him. It’s like he’s watching himself in the reflection of your irises.

“And this… is where you’re irrevocably in love with me,” you whisper, not being able to hold back a tug at your lips as you did so.

Doyoung chuckles. His hands are still gripping onto the sides of your waist firmly.

Your arms begin to feel heavier by the second, so you set them down, putting both your hands onto Doyoung’s shoulders. Your leg goes down as well, meeting the other on tip-toes against the floor.

Doyoung doesn’t look away for one moment, and neither do you. You’re still catching your breath when you feel a pull on your hips.

You stop breathing.

Doyoung’s face is now even closer to yours. You can see every minute detail of his features; the way his eyelids folded, the individual hairs of his brows, and his defined cupid’s bow. That was something that you never noticed about him, and now you can’t pull your eyes away from it.

He watches you observe him, and he does the same.

Without even knowing, you inch your face closer and closer to Doyoung’s. Until finally, your lips meet his. 

INTERVAL

As the weeks went on, you and Doyoung found yourselves spending more nights at the studio than not. Nights would bleed into days, and hours would pass by where you either forgot or didn’t have time to break away to do practically anything, including finding time for dinner. To your surprise, someone took notice of this and decided to do something about it. 

You’d passed by Doyoung countless times in the hallways during these late hours where you’re both pouring heart and soul into your craft. Neither of you ever stopped to make conversation, with the both of you not knowing what to say.  And so, you didn’t.

Doyoung wouldn’t talk to you, but more so communicate through written words. The first time you found a note from him, it was stuck on top of a takeaway box. His penmanship small and neat, words that simply stated: “I ordered extra by accident.” You broke out a small smile as you picked the box off of the floor in front of the door to your room, believing in this accident.

The second time, a similar note on top of a thermos. Inside, a homemade soup that warmed you up in the cool hours of the night.

On another occasion, his note read something a little different. Alongside it was a lunchbox—not a takeaway this time. The note this time basically reprimanding you for smoking after he presumedly caught you on another night, and you couldn’t help but read it in his nagging voice. In the corner of the square piece of paper was a doodle of an angry-looking stickman.

You kept all of the post-it notes, stacking them on top of one another every time you receive a new one.

As you’re lining up the sides of the latest note against the pile you’ve been collecting, you catch a glimpse of your reflection in the studio mirror. A smile that you didn’t even know you’d been wearing appears on your face. Some part of you cursing yourself for feeling like a high schooler receiving love letters. Some part of you cursing him for making you feel this way. 

You tuck the notes into a pocket of your bag and return to practice. Maybe you should return the favour, you wonder. Despite trying as hard as you can, you can’t get the fact that Doyoung is just a hallway across from you the rest of the night.

ACT III THE CURTAINS FALL

If you were to describe your relationship with Kim Doyoung… it’d be a difficult task. If the saying, ‘opposites attract’ were true, then you and Doyoung would be the same pole on a bar magnet. It felt like with every pull comes a stronger push. But all those speculations and theorisations come to a halt as an elbow nudges you in the stomach.

“Hello?” Karina pushes you slightly with her shoulder, knocking you a couple of steps back. “You’ve got to quit staring at him like that.”

“I wasn’t—”

With one raise of her eyebrows, Karina shuts you up. You take a few steps to close the slight distance between you and Karina again, your shoulders pressed up against each other’s. “I was just… zoning out.”

“Sure,” Karina replies brightly, “Zoning out just fantasising about our Prince over there, I bet,” her head nods towards Doyoung across the room.

Now, it’s your turn to give your friend a nudge in the side, wanting desperately for her to stop speaking before anyone else hears you. She can barely hold back her chuckle and all you can do is hope that everyone else is too preoccupied with trying to memorise the sequence to pay attention to your personal gossip. 

You were starting to dread these Fridays. With everyone in the company being in the same room at once, you felt like there were too many eyes on you. And Doyoung as well, but they don’t seem to be watching him for every mistake he makes like they do with you. Karina makes you forget about all that for a little bit, though, with her merciless teasing.

“Sorry! Sorry. I just never thought that you two would—y’know,” Karina leans into your ear, about to whisper the next part of her sentence before you stop her.

“Shh! What if someone hears?” You scan the massive stage as dancers line up row by row at the back.

Karina expels a shallow sigh, “Who cares! You two are grown adults, and it’s not like you’re doing anything wrong by kissing him.” She shrugs nonchalantly, watching as another lineup of ballerinas dance across the platform.

You try your best to ignore the acceleration in your chest at the mention of that. You’re not one to regret many things, but you do regret telling Karina about that night; she won’t stop questioning you like she’s some PI. 

You run a hand up your opposite arm, giving yourself a slight squeeze on the shoulder. “We still haven’t talked about it,” you mumble.

Karina turns her head towards you and narrows her eyes. You flash a quick glance at her, then another, somewhat uncomfortable with how closely she’s studying you. 

After a few moments of what felt more like hours of Karina intently just staring at you, it seems she has come to a conclusion.

She gasps a small breath, “Do you have feelings for him? God, you’re getting into character.”

“What?” You give her a light smack on the arm, “No! I don’t— I’m just bothered that we haven’t spoken in weeks. That’s all.” The words come out of you slowly and articulately, trying your best not to fall into the hole you’ve dug for yourself. One look at Karina’s face tells you that it’s not working as well as you’d hoped it would, though.

She turns her gaze back onto the stage in front of the two of you. Her eyes never leave Doyoung, now in centre stage, as she tilts her head sideways towards yours. “I believe you’ve fallen to what the professionals call, ‘method acting.’”

It was at this moment, that you knew you should never open your mouth about how your night-time practices are going nowadays to Karina if you still want to maintain some shred of dignity.

It’s another one of your customary late nights again. Thanks to this role, you’ve gotten a lot more familiar with each and every crevice of this practice room in the past month than you have in all your years working here.

Dejection seems to be a recurring theme during your OT hours lately. Not that you can help it. Colette’s still on you for not making your turns, though she has toned it down several notches, which is more than you can ask of her. And confronting failure face-to-face continually doesn’t necessarily boost the morale, especially when it’s 10pm and you’ve spent the last few hours by yourself, in silence. Just occasionally cussing yourself; your pointe shoes for giving out; or the wall that you spin into, out.

You sigh as you sit with your legs out in front of you in the middle of the studio, fingers squeezing the tops of your knees. For the first time tonight, you felt tired. You hadn’t paused to even breathe during this session, and now that you have, the weariness you’d built up is catching up to you. Still, there’s a tiny spark of determination within you that refuses to be extinguished—the only thing that’s stopping you from ending it here tonight and going home.

As a last-ditch effort, you pull your knees up to your chest and push yourself off the ground. One last try, for tonight at least, or you’ll end up causing more damage to your feet than you care to admit.

You don’t bother with the music, you haven’t bothered for a while now. Hearing the same build-up over and over again started to feel passionless. And something about it stirs a visceral reaction within you that you really wanted to avoid as much as you possibly can.

So, you position yourself in the very centre of the room. Eyes fixed on the ones staring back at you in the mirror. You spread your weight evenly between your two feet, one in front of you and the other behind. One of your arms round out in a semi-circle out in front parallel to your chest as the other stretches out to the side. You lean your weight slightly onto your back foot.

The room echoes with silence. A deep breath fills your lungs. Your eyes burn holes into the mirror, paying no mind to the stray strands of hair that splay out messily. You roll your shoulders back and straighten your spine. With one last breath, you sink into the heel of your back foot, and with all the remaining strength you can muster up, you push off into the starting turn.

You manage a double on the starting turn before coming back down on your heel to propel yourself up again. Your eyes never leave the spot you’ve marked on the mirror as you make your rounds. Mostly singles, some doubles, and some rare triples. In your head, you’re trying to keep count, but it’s not the easiest when you have multiple other things requiring your full attention.

12, 13, 14. Your heel lands again as you whip your other leg out to the side of you, forcing momentum when you draw it through into passé.

You’re nearly halfway there, and that’s when you remind yourself to not lose the strength in your core. You straighten back up as much as you can between turns, and you keep counting.

You’re starting to feel the inevitable stabbing of your nail against your own toe as you’re making your way through the 20’s. Your breathing is also getting heavier and heavier.

Expectations were low. You often get to this point, but fall short of just the 32 fouettés you need.

26, 27, 28. 

You have to admit, there is a certain adrenaline that runs through you whenever you get this close. However, that’s the trap. You get excited, lose focus, and you don’t make it. So, as you catch a glimpse of your reflection, you try to steel the excitement threatening to boil over inside you. 29. 

This time, as you come down, you push off again onto your toes with more force than ever, your other leg providing as much assistance as possible.

You spin once, meeting your eyes in the mirror. But you have enough momentum to not have to come down again. 30.

And again. Your gaze lingers as long as it possibly can before you have to whip your head around. 31.

The last, final turn you need. Friction is stretching your force thin. You’re on the finishing turn, and with the last bit of exertion from you, you manage to make a full spin. 32. 

You land on your back foot, exhilarated at this small triumph that you shared with yourself tonight. Breath after breath, your chest rises and falls rapidly as you’re trying to blink away the dizziness.

Your arms fall to your sides, planting themselves onto your hips. An overwhelming sense of relief crashes over you as you watch your own reflection. A gentle smile starts to break onto your lips.

Then, something in the corner catches your attention.

Your eye darts over to the door. And what do you know—if this was any other setting, the very thought of being watched would be unsettling, but you should be used to it by now, you suppose.

“That was good.”

You hear it before you can clearly see anything. Perhaps your habit of not turning the lights on late on night does have its cons. But you don’t have to see for yourself to picture who it was in your head: Him and his devilishly handsome face.

On any other given night, you’d put up more of a rejection to his simple compliment and argue that you deserved a rating better than ‘good.’ But tonight, the urge just wasn’t there. 

“Thanks,” you breathe out.

He walks in through the doorframe, more of him coming into light as he draws closer to you. With every step that he takes, it’s like your heart threatens more and more to jump out of your chest. Why am I feeling like this? It is the first time you’ve spoken in person since you kissed, yes, but that doesn’t change anything, right?

As he walks closer and closer towards you, the urge to have that sturdy wall of sarcasm you normally put up around you returns. 

He stops a few steps short of being in reach of you. The planes of his cheeks highlighted by the glow of city lights outside. The man you’ve tolerated for as long as you can remember, Kim Doyoung, now standing in front of you, and it’s your knees that feel weak.

The thumping of your heart resonates in your ears—it’s so loud that you’re afraid even he can hear it. Trying to push all that down and stuff it into some locked up part of you, you try to think about how to navigate this conversation. Just two colleagues talking after ignoring each other after kissing each other; nothing to worry about.

“So. No lunchbox for me tonight?” You’re hoping that the cheek in your tone distracts from your undoubtedly rosying cheeks. But maybe acknowledging that was the wrong move—too late now.

“Actually, I was just about to leave it outside. But I saw you, instead.” He lifts his hand up and that’s the first time you spot the small, rectangular box in his grip.

You drag your eyes from the box back up to meet Doyoung’s. A beat passes.

Then, you muster up the courage. “Why… are you doing that for me?” You’ve asked yourself this question more times than you can count. Why is he being nice to you? That is strictly out of character for him, if you were to judge.

Doyoung crinkles his eyebrows, as if he’s offended that you’d asked him that question. “What do you mean?”

“I mean, why are you bringing me…? Every night we’re here. I haven’t asked you to.” You speak slowly, as if you’re carefully treading through a minefield that is Kim Doyoung’s mind and reasoning.

“Skipping dinner’s bad,” he extends his arm out with the box in his hand, signalling for you to take it off of him. You’re reluctant, but he persists. “What? I’m… taking care of my costars.”

Your eyebrows quirk up at his choice of words. He holds it out a few more seconds before his patience wears thin. 

“My arm is getting tired.”

And as his last push is met with nothing from you, he drops his hand to his side. Without a word, he scoffs and makes his way over back to where the door is.

“Fine, I’ll just put it in your bag.”

Subconsciously, you follow him as he walks over to the edge of the room, a bit dazed at the man in front of you.

He kneels down, shoving the box through the opening of your bag. When he stands up again, he seems a bit surprised that you’re literally right there behind him. Serves him right for all those other times he’s snuck up on you.

You stare at him and he stares back at you, his eyes widening at your silence, as if to say, “What?” in his typical bratty, condescending way. 

“You’re overcompensating.” You shoot out.

“What?” His slight annoyance is replaced by confusion.

“Don’t worry,” your cadence loosens up as does your posture. In a more lax manner, you take a few steps towards the barre on the wall, next to Doyoung. “I’m not some charity case you’re condemned to because you feel bad for whatever.” You place your palms behind you on the barre, feeling somewhat pleased with yourself for having figured out Doyoung’s motivations.

Doyoung himself is slightly amused at your deduction. He leans backwards with his elbows on the barre, his legs stretching out in front of him. He turns his head, eyes looking down at you. “Believe it or not, I don’t see you as ‘charity work.’”

You take a second to still your heartbeat that seems dead set on betraying you with how you felt his breath fan faintly against your shoulder as he spoke. You turn to look him in the eyes, either to prove something to yourself, or to him—you couldn’t be sure.

“Then, why all this?”

Doyoung returns your gaze intently. You hadn’t planned for it, and now there’s no way you’re letting yourself back down. The way he looks at you—into you—hitches your breath. The last time he looked at you like this… You’re not sure you can stop history from repeating itself if he doesn’t stop now.

For a moment, you can swear his irises swirled like liquid pools of obsidian, the sheen in them barely visible under the dimness. 

Before Doyoung even tries to come up with a way to talk his way out of this, he gives in. Into you.

In an instant, his lips envelopes yours. You wish you could say you were surprised, but deep down you were screaming at him to kiss you first. 

You melt into the softness of his lips. The depth at which he takes you in makes the peck from last time seem like child’s play. 

As both of you ease into each other’s touch, Doyoung’s eagerness becomes more and more apparent. One hand cups your jaw and the other settles on your nape, pulling you in as much as he can. Your lips fitted together like they were sculpted for each other. The way his mouth moved over yours as if they were connected to one mind.

Doyoung steps in between your legs, positioning himself in front of you with your back pressed against the wall. He never breaks his lips from yours, not even to take a breath. The hand that he previously had on your neck runs itself down to your waist, grabbing hold of it like he has so many times before. He pulls your torso closer to his, your chests pressed up together, your back slightly arched.

In all honesty, you would’ve expected Doyoung to be more the passive type, but you were gladly proven wrong. The way he presses his lips onto yours is with a force so strong that you’re sure it’s bound to leave your lips swollen and bruised. You don’t know if it’s intentional or not, but a groan rumbles in Doyoung’s throat, and you can feel it with a slight vibration. Your lips can’t help but draw themselves into a small smirk that he assuredly has to have felt.

It is only now that Doyoung pulls himself away from you, or more so pry himself away. In a way, you’re grateful because you don’t know how much longer you could’ve lasted before you completely lose yourself to his touch. 

His face parts from yours with both of you trying to catch your breaths as quietly as you can. 

With those eyes of his again, he switches between looking at your (only slightly swollen) lips and your eyes. He gently brushes the side of his thumb up your cheek, sliding under the hair that framed that part of your face. 

His eyes follow the movement of his thumb, before glancing back at you. Breathily, he whispers, “Does that answer your question?”

It’s your lucky day. Karina had plans for lunch hour today, leaving you sitting alone in the middle of the canteen poking and prodding at your food. At first, you didn’t consider it entirely ‘lucky,’  but the more and more you thought about it, maybe it truly is. After all, if you tell Karina what happened two nights ago, she will no doubt hold it over you ’til the day you die. And not telling her isn’t exactly an option if she asks—she always has a way of getting inside your brain. And even if she doesn’t ask, she could definitely tell something’s up especially with how you’re having to bite back your own smile at random given moments of the day. So all in all, maybe you are lucky, at least for today.

That very sliver of luck lasted only moments, though.

Your eyes are down, staring somewhat blankly at your phone screen in an attempt to seem preoccupied. However, someone sees through your act—or maybe he just doesn’t care for it.

Doyoung slides his tray onto your table, swiftly taking a seat opposite you. You look up at him, watching his very nonchalant actions as if this happens every day.

“What are you doing?” You mutter, perhaps involuntarily. Some part of you is taken aback, another part is confused. Every single time—every one of your encounters with Kim Doyoung felt like a chess game. When you think you’ve seen through his tactics, he reveals that he already has several other countermoves calculated.

Doyoung does what he does best: ignore you. He places his hands on the table, eyes scanning over your tray and his briefly. Then, he lifts his gaze up onto you. “Are you free this weekend?” He asks with an expression on his face that’s a little hard to read. It’s a strange combination of politeness and formality that you’re not used to from him, at least not when directed at you.

“What?” Your response almost comes out as a chuckle. What is he up to? 

“Well, if you are, I have two tickets to a show.” He ends his sentence with a small smile on the corner of his lips.

Is he…? Now, you’re almost certain that today is your lucky day because thank God, Karina isn’t here to witness this.

Back to the situation at hand… what are you supposed to make of this? Is this a date? Or maybe you’re jumping to conclusions for even assuming he’s asking you out on a date. Yes, you two kissed, twice. But does that equal a date now?

God.

Does he like you?—Why does that matter? 

Stop thinking.

You open your mouth to start saying something, and Doyoung looks at you expectantly. You suck in a quick breath, then your lips purse together. But you have to say something.

“If this is because of the other night, you don’t have to—” You cut yourself off as Doyoung raises his brows, prompting you to go on. “What are you up to?”

Doyoung leans in closer, planting both elbows on the tabletop. He tilts his head slowly to the side, gaze fixed pointedly at you, “You keep thinking I have ulterior motives.”

The urge to push his head back with your finger entertains you for a second, before you shoo it away. “Because this is unlike you. 5 years, and I’ve never seen you speak to someone if you’re not forced to.” You lean back into your chair, folding your arms across your stomach. “You’ve always had a kinda cold, and mysterious aura to you,” you mumble, maybe more to yourself than to him.

That seems to pique his intrigue. “You think I’m mysterious?” His eyebrows lift, exposing his amusement.

“That’s not what I meant,” you refute bluntly. “I just thought you were keeping up an image. The whole, ‘I have no friends, but I’m still cool’ thing, you know?”

If this whole encounter was a chess game, then you just found checkmate. Doyoung looks at you a bit in disbelief, and maybe slightly insulted.

“You think I—Okay, no,” he shuts you down firmly. He places his hands onto the table again, “Now, the tickets.”

Truth be told, you’ve been thinking about him ever since that night, but you would probably die before ever admitting that.

“I mean, sure. But you’re not denying that you have an image problem.”

At the first sound of your acceptance, Doyoung slides his fingers underneath his tray and is preparing to get up out of his seat. He stands up and tucks his chair in with his free hand. Once again, doing what he does best, he ignores the latter half of your sentence, “Saturday night, 7pm.”

With that, he’s set off in some direction to wherever he’s going. He’s just taken a few steps away and before he’s out of earshot, you follow up, “And what if people talk?”

He doesn’t stop walking away from you with his back turned, countering, “Sounds like you’re the one with an image problem.”

Saturday night, 6:55pm.

Shit.

Apparently, the entire population of Paris decided to get on this very subway all at the same time. The doors slide open but you’re having to budge and shove through row after row of people just to get off the car and onto the platform.

It’s a 10 minute walk and you have 5 minutes. If you don’t run to the theatre, Doyoung will inevitably be complaining about how you’re late for the whole night.

Running is a bit difficult though (and not to mention embarrassing) especially in the heels that you’re in.

You walk as fast as you possibly can out of the station and onto the city streets. The sun is just barely peeking out from the horizon and the lampposts begin to turn on as you weave your way through the avenues.

You’re just a crossing away from the theatre when you spot a particular silhouette. Their back is turned towards you, but you recognise that person as Doyoung. It’s in the way he stands, and the positioning of his feet. It’s undoubtedly him.

His head is down, presumably on his phone. The light turns green and you begin to cross. Just as you’re about to reach the other side of the street, you feel a buzz in your hand. You face the screen towards you. 7:02pm. And as you predicted, Doyoung is already starting his carping. A message pops up on the bottom of your screen, “Are you here yet?”

For whatever reason unbeknownst to you, your lips curve into a tiny smile that you have to force away, ignoring his message at the same time. You walk the couple of steps that separate you and Doyoung.

His back is still turned towards you, completely unaware of your being there behind him. He dons a long, black wool coat that amplifies his already broad shoulders, making him look and feel larger than life. To your surprise, the outfit you’re wearing coincidentally somewhat matches his—a long black dress with a coat over top. If people didn’t know better, they’d probably assume the two of you matched on purpose.

You hesitate before tapping his shoulder lightly with two fingers. His head turns around swiftly. And before you even get the chance to say anything—

“You’re late.”

You can’t resist the urge to roll your eyes and sigh. “By 2 minutes! And look,” You glance downwards at your shoes, Doyoung following your gaze. “You should be grateful I even made it here with two intact ankles.”

Doyoung eyes your heels, chuckling lightly to himself.

“What?”

“Nothing,” he looks at you with a satisfied smile on his face. “We should go in before we’re too late,” he suggests with a dip of his head towards the entrance of the theatre.

You mumble a quiet, “Whatever,” under your breath before you start heading towards the theatre ingress, Doyoung closely following behind you.

The theatre stands majestically. Every single element of it meticulously ornate, as is the rest of the architecture in the city, but this truly was something else. Its facade is adorned with intricate columns and statues sculpted to perfection. The golden lights illuminate the archways between the sculptures, leading to the interior. Every detail of the design echoed a timeless charm and glamour.

You’ve passed by this theatre more than a handful of times, but it’s your first time actually going inside. 

“What are we watching, anyway?” You turn your head around to voice, being cautious as you climb the steps leading to the open doors.

“You’ll see,” is all Doyoung responds back with.

It’s your turn to follow behind Doyoung as he hands the tickets to the man standing next to the entrance doors. You glance down at the tickets as the doorman studies them briefly before welcoming the both of you inside.

You give him a polite smile as you pass by, still following Doyoung. You make up the couple of steps between you and Doyoung so that you’re walking parallel to him.

“Swan Lake? Really?”

Doyoung smiles at you gently, “It’s a classic for a reason.”

Three beautifully devastating hours later, the ballet finishes. And Doyoung was right, it is a classic for a reason. No matter how many times you watch Swan Lake, it still manages to completely beguile you. The ballerina they casted for the main role was incredible, undeniably so. It’s then that you begin to question if you should’ve came here tonight.  All that it seemed to do was make you doubt whether or not you can give a performance half as enchanting as hers.

You and Doyoung are walking silently next to each other in streets illuminated by nothing but the warm glow of the lampposts. He insisted on walking you home, though he lives in the other direction.

“Penny for your thoughts?” Doyoung utters after a prolonged silence. He steps under the gleam of one of the lamps, highlighting the sharpness of his features as he looks back at you.

The mellow breeze of the night blows softly against you. “They were good.”

“We can do better,” he follows, resulting in you cracking a small smile.

“Cocky.”

“No—Just confident.”

“Fine, overconfident then.” 

He takes a big step ahead, balancing on one foot as he tilts his head to catch a glimpse of your face, forcing you to look at him. “And what’s wrong with that? I believe in us.”

Soon enough, the two of you arrive in front of your apartment complex. The chill in the night lingers in the air between the two of you. You mumble a quiet, “So,” under your breath, disguised as a sigh.

Stuffing your hands inside the pockets of your jacket, you rock forwards onto your toes. You suck in a long breath. “Thanks for the date,” you make it a point to highlight the sarcasm in your tone, but really, you were just trying to see his reaction.

Doyoung, however, doesn’t buy your facade. His eyebrows tick up and his eyes glisten with a hint of amusement. “A date, huh?”

“That was a little something called a joke,” you quickly follow.

“Well,” he leans forward an inch or so closer to your face. “Joking or not, we can’t end the perfect date without a kiss,” he mutters lowly as he looks into your eyes. 

You stare back at him, frozen. Your heart beats faster and faster with every second that he has his eyes on you. He raises an eyebrow, waiting for any sign from you.

Inching ever so slowly towards him, you drop your gaze onto his lips. Softly, you press a gentle peck onto him. When you lean back and open your eyes again, he’s wearing the faintest trace of a smile on his face that you’re sure has already burned its image into your mind.

“You should really find funnier things to joke about,” Doyoung utters. “Good night,” he whispers as he’s about to take a step back from you.

“Wait,” you reach out and grab ahold of his wrist. There’s an eagerness in your voice that you regret as soon as you spoke aloud. Doyoung looks at your hand wrapped around him, then up at you, causing you to loosen your grip. You know you’re probably going to regret this but—“It’s still early. Do you want to stay for a drink?” Your head and your heart has never worked against each other like this. You regretted it as soon as you made the offer, but your heart was just a beat faster than your mind tonight. 

There’s a brief moment of quiet where you’re sure he would say ‘no.’ But instead, he looks down at the ground, biting back his bottom lip before nodding along. “Sure,” Doyoung agrees with an easy shrug.

You lead him into the lobby of your complex silently. The air only seems to thicken with every second that you spend with him by your side, and it doesn’t help that the lift takes forever to arrive. You step inside, your heels clicking against the marble floor, and Doyoung follows along. 

He watches your every movement, from your pressing of the elevator buttons to you leaning back against the banister along the walls. You catch his eyes, and he doesn’t even try to hide his observing you.

A chuckle catches in your throat, “What?”

“What?” He echoes you with a certain smugness in his expression.

The lift stops right in time and the doors slide open. You let your eyes linger on Doyoung’s as you walk past him to exit into the hallway. Pulling out your keys from your pockets, you instinctually unlock your door in one swift motion and let yourself and Doyoung in.

Your arm reaches out to the side to flick the kitchen lights on. Stepping out of your heels, you slip off your jacket at the same time, throwing it onto the chair by the door. “Red or white?” You ask Doyoung, who’s slowly taking his own jacket off and setting it down on top of yours. 

You open the cupboard to where you store all your wines, scanning through your options. Doyoung sidles up to you, looking up at the cupboard himself. Then, you make the mistake of turning your head. 

He reaches his hand onto the handle of the cabinet, boxing you in between him and the wall. His gaze is fixed on the bottles, as if he’s really studying through each of them right now. The top buttons of his dress shirt are undone, the collar slightly crooked. A hum sounds from him, reverberating in the close distance between your bodies. His neck catches a sheen from the city lights filtering through your balcony doors behind you. And it’s only then you realise you’d just about made the biggest mistake of your life.

He angles his head downwards to look at you, an oh-so-innocent expression scrawled all over his face. “What do you think?” He asks with a feigned cluelessness in the lift of his brows.

You catch a subtle hint of his cologne—which was probably more effective than any other bottle that you had up in that cupboard in making you drunk. “What do I think?” you breathe out. Doyoung tilts his head towards the cabinet, but the look in his eyes told you he had no intention of opening up any of the bottles.

Doyoung drops his hand from the handle onto the edge of the countertop as he takes a step closer towards you. One step. And he’s cornered you between himself and the glass doors to the balcony.

“That’s what I asked, wasn’t it?” His voice is low and sultry as his eyes study each and every detail of your face.

For the last time tonight, you try to still the pounding in your chest, but it was clear that your attempts proved futile. “I think…” you start slowly, lightly tracing the tips of your fingers from up his hips to his collarbone. “Fuck the wine.”

Your fingers grab onto the silky fabric of his collar, pulling him close. His lips crash onto yours in an instant. Once you’ve given him the green light, there’s nothing holding him back. 

Doyoung’s hands roams every inch of your body as he kisses you as if you are the very air he needs to breathe. One of his hands grip tightly onto the flesh of your thigh, fingertips digging into the sides of it.

You wrap your arms around his neck, holding and keeping him close to you. For a moment, it felt like deja vu with the way he’s kissing you. So deeply and fervently. You throw your head back to catch a quick breath, but Doyoung doesn’t let even the tiniest fraction of a second slip away from him. 

He attaches his lips to your neck, leaving a trail of his kisses down onto your collarbones. His hand covers the small of your back, arching it into him as he sucks on your skin. 

You move your arms down behind your back, hands searching blindly for something. Then, a noise clicks in between your panting and the sound of Doyoung leaving desperate kisses on your skin. Doyoung pulls back slightly with a darkness in his eyes, as if he knows exactly what you just did. A smirk overtakes his lips, quickly taking yours into his again.

“You want everyone to know what we’re doing up here?” He mutters breathily in between quick kisses. God. You can feel his smirk against your lips when he envelopes you, twisting your stomach in ways you never thought possible. “I don’t mind.”

The click was the sound of you unlocking the handles. He takes a step backwards, pulling you along with him as he swings both doors to your balcony open. Immediately, a breeze brushes against your skin that only adds to the butterflies in your stomach. 

Doyoung presses you up against the cold, iron railing of the balcony, prompting a quiet ‘shit’ from you. The contrast of his warm palms on your thighs and the icy metal on your back sends chills down your spine.

His hands inch higher and higher up your legs, slipping under the chiffon of your dress. Meanwhile, his lips are never parted from you for more than a few seconds at a time. You open your arms, hands each gripping the top rail of the banister so tightly that your knuckles are beginning to change colours.

Doyoung moves your leg up, wrapping it around his waist. He trails his lips again over the delicate skin of your neck and chest. When the neckline of your dress gets in the way, he simply had no choice but to move onto the next part of you that’s uncovered by fabric.

Doyoung kneels down onto his knees. As he does so, his grip on your leg remained steady as he lapped it over his shoulder. He presses gentle pecks onto your inner thigh as he continues to lift the hem of your dress up, unveiling more of you bit by bit at a time.

Patience was never your strong suit. Doyoung, however, seemed to be the complete opposite. He takes his time peppering kisses all over the skin of your thigh as anticipation builds up within you. For a moment, you forget that you’re out on the balcony, but you’re reeled back into the present as another subtle gust of wind catches itself in your hair.

You bite down on your lip as Doyoung’s mouth inches closer and closer to the hem of your underwear. The anticipation practically pooling in between your legs. He lifts the dress up slightly above your waist, holding it in place as he grabs onto your hips with his big palms.

He leans in closer, moving excruciatingly slowly. You can feel the warmth of his breath so, so painfully close to you. He traces a finger along the lace trim, then softly presses his lips onto it—half of it touching fabric, the other half touching your bare skin. You wrap the leg you have thrown over his shoulder tighter around him at the sensation, or the lack thereof. 

Doyoung slides two fingers under the hem. He’s a tease. He runs the tips of his fingers downwards along the edge. Doyoung looks up at you watching him expectantly, smirking at the sight of you, breathing so heavily. He bunches the fabric together, pushing it to the side, and immediately, the chill in the night jolts you.

This is remedied by the presence of Doyoung’s lips on your clit. He first plants a gentle kiss, then, doing what he did on your neck and your chest, he swirls his tongue over it. His humming adding to the pressure building steadily within you.

You purse your lips together, desperate to not make a noise, and your leg tries to clamp itself shut.

Doyoung pulls away, licking his lips before tutting his tongue. “You wanted everyone to hear, didn’t you? That’s why you opened these doors?” He presses the tip of his middle finger up onto your folds, drawing ovals as he spreads the wetness all over your cunt. “Don’t get shy now.”

He latches his lips onto your clit again, and without notice, pushes that very finger up into you. The surprise of his movements forces a moan out of you, one that you couldn’t suppress.

Steadily, he slides in another finger, continuing to go deeper and deeper, —threatening more and more noises from you.

You let go of the rail with one of your hands, unable to hold back from the aching neediness you feel between you. Your fingers find themselves entangled in Doyoung’s hair, drawing him closer to you as you begin to move your hips against the friction of his touch.

He mumbles contently against you, “That’s it, princess.” Humming approvingly as you continue to grind yourself down into him. The entire length of his fingers disappear inside you and gradually, he pulls them out before picking up his pace.

Still, you’re straining your whines and whimpers, as if you’re embarrassed for him to hear them. You throw your head back as he begins to slide his fingers in and out of you at an increasing pace, a strangled moan catching in your breath.

He mumbles again, “Don’t hold back for me.”

The next morning, you wake up in your bed. Pillows scattered over the floor, sheets sprawled out on top of you. You turn, facing the other side of the bed only to find it empty. A haze covers your memory of the night before, as if the events have been frosted over, sealing last night to the you in those moments only. 

A sudden pounding plagues your head and you begin to feel the ache all over your body. You shut your eyelids tightly, trying to will away the pain searing through your muscles, but it doesn’t work.

Sliding on your slippers, you shuffle your way out of your bedroom only to find your entire apartment empty. There’s a sinking feeling in your chest for a brief moment before your eye catches something on your kitchen countertop. A note.

You sidle over, and immediately you can recognise the paper that the note’s written on. The neat handwriting on it read, “I’m off to practice. I made some breakfast for you with what you had, hope that’s alright,” with a small smiley face on the bottom corner.

You glance back at where the note was, and sure enough, there’s a plate of pancakes sitting on your countertop.

Taking a deep breath, you put the note back down. The sudden need to decipher and ascertain what last night means overtakes you, and you know just what you need to do.

You head back into your bedroom, throwing sheets and pillows all over the place to look for your phone. After scouring around for 5 solid minutes, you find it tucked into your bed frame.

Somewhat half-awake, you scroll through your contacts to find Karina’s name. The tone dials three times before she picks up.

There was no way that you wouldn’t tell her what happened between you and Doyoung—you could only keep things from her for so long. After Doyoung had left you that day in the canteen, it took you a little over 24 hours to spill everything to Karina. She was neither surprised or impressed.

“How’d it go?” She answers the phone, no greetings or anything.

You take in a deep breath, certain that Karina can probably hear you. “I don’t know,” you blurt out truthfully.

“Good-you-don’t-know, or bad-you-don’t-know?”

“Good? I guess? Karina…” You sigh, for probably the dozenth time since you’ve woken up this morning.

Karina waits a few seconds before she speaks again, “Tell me everything.”

You recap how the night went, leaving some details out when it got to the later part of things. Though you can’t see her, you can visualise her reactions just from her squealing over the phone.

“This method acting thing is really working, huh?” She chuckles to herself.

“No!” You rub your palm over your forehead. “I don’t know. I don’t know if he likes me or if I like him. It’s… weird.”

“Be so serious right now,” Karina says bluntly, “You’re kidding me.”

“What if it’s just physical?”

“Is it just physical for you?

“No,” you’re quick to answer that, “I don’t think so.” Karina stays silent for a moment or two, and you can picture her eyebrows shooting up in that familiar way when she’s trying to prove you wrong.

“Listen,” Karina sighs, “Friends who fuck for fun don’t cook each other breakfast. And go out on dates. I’m sure it’s a thrill to have anyone’s hands on you,” The sarcasm heavily blanketed her last sentence.

“It wasn’t a date,” you weakly try to object while thinking over her words.

“Yeah, just two people hanging out casually ending in a hook-up. Not a date. Just saying, that’s never happened to us before.”

Karina spends some more time trying to open your eyes to the truth that you were so repellent to, to no avail. 

By the end of the phone call, you let yourself fall onto your bed, mind more muddled up than before. Not exactly what you hoped for in this situation.

It’s been exactly 4 days since that fateful night. The date, as Karina kept referring to it as. You haven’t had the opportunity to see Doyoung this week, yet, which, thanks to partner practice, will change today. As soon as you step through the door to the studio, to be specific.

The moment you do, you hear a voice squealing out your name. Jerking your head upwards, you catch the eyes of Colette who’s making a beeline towards you.

“So, how was it?” She asks excitedly, catching you off guard for multiple reasons. 1, she’s never that cheery in the mornings. 2, you have no idea what ‘it’ is.

“How was…?” You trail off, letting her fill in the blanks of her query.

“The date!” Colette exclaims. And in the corner of your eye, you can see a head snap sharply in the direction of the two of you in the front of the room. You look over, and Doyoung’s standing there, in the middle of rolling up his long sleeves. Your gaze locks with his for a second or two, and a sudden embarrassment burns within your eyes that you’re not sure if you need to hide from him. You look back at Colette, her anticipation evident in her features.

“It was delightful,” Doyoung answers from across the room, rolling up the other sleeve. “Is that enough gossip for you today?” He says pointedly.

Colette widens her eyes at you. She leans in to your right side, putting her hand on your elbow as she mutters quietly into your ear, “I asked him earlier before you got here and he wouldn’t say anything.” She pulls away from you, “Did you have a nice time?”

You give her a polite nod with a small smile and she seems satisfied enough with that answer, mirroring your grin. Colette drops her hand from your elbow, letting you settle your stuff down.

Doyoung makes his way up to the centre, where Colette stands facing him. You shoot a quick glance back at them, a slight nervousness bubbling up inside you as they mumble among themselves, too quiet for you to make out anything they’re saying. As you’re pulling your pointe shoes out of your bag, Colette suddenly remarks again, “And to think you wanted to drop the role because you didn’t think you’d have chemistry with him, Y/N.”

You look back again at the two of them. Doyoung is facing away from you, stretching his ankles on the floor. You flash a tight-lipped smile at Colette before standing up and joining them.

Practice ended earlier than usual today—you’re not complaining about it though. Despite you never going home until later into the night, you’re still thankful that at least you have a slightly longer break today before you start your individual sessions again.

You dig through your bag for your purse, wanting to maybe get a snack or two at the canteen. You’re fishing around, and instead of your purse, you find your box of cigarettes. Your arms freeze momentarily. Flipping over the tab, you see that there’s only one left, having not touched them since the last time Doyoung caught you smoking and being his usual irritating self, chided you for it.

A small curve forcibly tugs on the corners of your mouth. You fold the tab back over, burying the box into a pocket inside the bag.

That evening, Doyoung freely waltzes into your practice room whilst you’re in the middle of practicing your turns. You haven’t been able to execute them as well as you had that one time, and you’re determined to perfect it.

Leisurely, as if he owned the place, Doyoung coasts through the door. He leans against the barre in front of the mirror as he takes a sip of his water from his bottle, eyes fixed on you in midst of a set of pirouettes. 

“I thought you got those down last time,” Doyoung speaks right as you land, appearing to be perfectly balanced despite the blur over your vision. He continues, “You can’t work yourself to the bone.”

“Once is a fluke,” you take a deep breath in.

“You’re plenty skilled.” He treads lightly towards you.

You look up at him coming closer, leaning your torso over to even your breathing again. “What? You’re done with practice so you’re here to distract me?”

Doyoung joins you in the middle of the room, taking a swig of his water. “I mean, nothing better to do.”

You plant your hands on the sides of your hips, eyes still locked on his. A beat passes by.

You drop your eyes from him, “Thanks for breakfast the other day, by the way.” You lift your foot from the ground slightly, pretending to be stretching it just so you don’t have to look at him.

“You’re welcome,” his tone is indecipherable.

The silence between the two of you quickly becomes awkward for you, desperate for some way to escape it.

“About the other night…” Doyoung’s voice softly begins as he sets the bottle in his hand on the floor.

“We don’t have to talk about it,” you reply trying to sound as nonchalant as you can, leaning your back into the wall of the pillar in the middle of the room. Truth be told, you were the furthest thing from nonchalant, but you couldn’t afford for him to know that.

Doyoung closes the gap between the two of you. He looks down at you, a hint of desperation in his eyes. “Okay, we don’t have to talk about it,” he repeats. He turns around so that his back is up against the pillar as well. “But we should do something about it.”

You glance over at him looking into the reflections of the two of you. In that moment, you’re not entirely sure what he’s hinting at. Then, you catch a glimpse of his hand, and suddenly your breath hitches. Without him even needing to say another word, your chest begins to burn, thanks to your sudden recollection that kicks in right at this moment. “Something like…?”

Doyoung pulls his eyes away from the mirror and onto you, watching as you take step and step closer, until you’re positioned directly in front of him. His gaze grows more intense as he continues to watch you, his smirk too. “That’s not quite what I meant, but I’m not complaining.” He finds himself putting his hand onto your hips without even thinking about it, as if it comes naturally to him. To be fair, he has already done so multiple times earlier in the day during your session, and it took all the will in you to focus on the choreography instead of his hands on you.

Your palms travel up against his chest, fingers clasping together at the back of his neck. You tilt your head slightly, “Really? This wasn’t what you had in mind?”

He purses his lips together briefly, and you can see his Adam’s apple bob slightly as he gulped. “You’re right. Let’s not talk.”

In a split second, your lips were pressed against each others. By now, the feeling of his lips on yours felt familiar enough that you’re sure your features have been moulded to fit his own. The softness of his lips contrasted by the pure desire driving his eagerness is a deadly combination. 

Your fingers inch their way into his hair, and his pulling on your waist. His palms slide downwards, and effortlessly, Doyoung hoists you up into his arms with your legs wrapping tight around him. 

The sudden movement catches you by surprise, making your lips part as you gasped gently. Doyoung settles his hands in the nook of your knees, and with you around him, he walks the two of you to the wall nearby, setting you down on top of the wooden barre.

His fingers push the strands of your hair back as he slides them up along your jawline. Your entire body pressed firmly against the wall, Doyoung buries himself in the crook of your neck. His hand caresses your cheek as he laid down kiss after kiss on your skin.

The whole time, you’re letting stifled hums and whines out, and every time you did, you can feel Doyoung smirking against you. You can’t help but to pull his hips closer to you with every second that goes by, desperate to have something. Your fingertips work their way around to the front of his waistband, hooking a thumb inside. If he didn’t sense your agitation before, he certainly did now. 

Doyoung pulls himself away from your neck. The visual of the low lighting combined with his disheveled hair, courtesy to you, was enough to drive you insane.

“You’re not very patient, are you?” He mutters as he runs a hand up and down your thigh tauntingly.

Can he blame you? Your mind has been driven to a place where you can’t even think straight anymore, only wanting to have your way in that instant. You bite down on your bottom lip, and slowly, with your eyes locked, you pull back the waistband of Doyoung’s sweatpants.

His eyes are filled with a deep carnal desire. Placed under his astute observation, you unhook your thumb from his sweats and instead, begin to peel off your leotard one strap at a time. He follows the movement of your hand as it slides the thin straps off of your shoulders, revealing your chest to him.

He hangs his head back, eyes closed, almost like he’s trying to not look at you. A quiet ‘fuck’ slips out from under his breath. You continue to strip off the rest of your leotard along with the thin, chiffon skirt that you had wrapped tightly around your waist.

Doyoung brings himself to look at you again, now with your entire torso bare. “Fuck, okay.” He sucks in the hollows of his cheeks as he brusquely pulls on the bunched up fabric and slides them off of you entirely.

You shoot him a quick look and he immediately pulls his shirt off with one of his hands. He takes your lips into his fervently as the tip of his thumb grazes against the underside of your breast.

Your hand travel down to the front of his trousers and not as discreetly as you’d thought. Doyoung groans lightly as you palm his bulge, even biting down on your lip when you apply more pressure.

“Okay, okay,” he whispers breathily, grabbing your wrist to direct it away before pushing down his sweats.

You try to keep your eyes on him but even in the bottom of your eyeline, you can see it spring up, hard and red. Doyoung wraps his long fingers around his cock, giving it a quick couple of strokes as he grunts lowly. 

The aching desire within you increases tenfold. And you couldn’t resist looking down, watching his hand travelling all the way up and down his length. A spark of frustration ignites within you, wanting desperately for him to just be inside of you right this second. 

Doyoung watches you watching him. He tries to stifle a chuckle, which catches your attention. “If you’re just going to jerk off, don’t waste my time here.” The movement of his arm slows down slightly, but his smirk grows wider.

“I would never want to waste your time,” he mutters tantalisingly.

Doyoung holds a firm grip around the base of his length. He looks down, having to stop himself drooling from the sight in front of him. He taps the head of his cock on your cunt, catching you by surprise and making you clench your thighs around him harder, which does nothing but elicit a chuckle from him.

Doyoung tightens the grip he has around himself, trying to still his shaking hand. And not being able to hold himself back any longer, he gently pushes himself into you, knocking the air out of your lungs. Your nails find themselves dug into the skin of his back as he drives further and further in. 

Your lips are parted, but you’re holding your breath. Doyoung’s gaze falls upon your face, watching every slight movement in your features as he pushes the last of himself into you. And though he hasn’t even done anything, yet, just the sheer size of him inside exhausts you. You rest your forehead against his bare shoulder, needing him to hold you steady with his arms. 

He plants a gentle kiss on the back of your head, “You’re so fucking pretty like this.”

And when you think your body couldn’t feel any weaker, your thighs tense up at the sound of his words. 

Doyoung lays his fingers on the nape of your neck, gently lifting your head and forcing you to look at him just inches away from your face. “You okay?” he mouths, earning an eager nod from you. You’re met with a small, pleasant smile from him at your response. 

He slowly drags himself against the tightness of your walls, groans catching in his throat. 

Doyoung begins to thrust his hips forwards and back, filling you up with his cock again and again. You let yourself wholly collapse into his chest standing up tall against you. The friction very quickly proves to be not enough for you, causing you to move your hips in unison with his.

A string of curses and moans falls from Doyoung’s lips as he picks up the pace. His hands also tighten around you, to steady himself or to steady you, it’s hard to say. He, once again, buries himself into your neck, panting into your skin and leaving subtle bite marks on it.

You snake a hand around to your clit, rubbing in synchrony to the rhythm of his hips. The stimulation overwhelms you, your mind solely focused on the desire to cum. Your head is propped up on Doyoung’s shoulder, and every time you moan into his ears, his heart skips a beat and he thrusts harder into you.

He mumbles your name over and over again, followed by a series of ‘fuck’s and ‘shit’s. His breathing, as well as yours, become rugged and uneven.

You can feel the pressure steadily building up within you, the circling of your fingertips becoming more violent by the second.

The bubbling of anticipation inside of you brings you closer and closer to the edge. Your body threatens to tremble even when propped up by the strength of Doyoung’s arms.

“I’m so close,” you manage to whimper next to Doyoung’s ear. And unbeknownst to you, that completely unravels him. Desperation taking over, he plunges himself deeper and harder into you.

The sudden change in tempo almost urges you to sink your teeth down into his shoulder. Your fingers are beginning to cramp but you’re so close to your orgasm, it’s practically within reach.

You lean your forehead onto Doyoung’s shoulder as weariness begins to take over your muscles. You just needed a little bit more to push you over the edge, and the sight of him ramming his cock inside of you made you fall apart.

Your walls clench so tightly around Doyoung that it’s physically hard for him to continue thrusting into you. Even if you tried to quiet yourself down, the overwhelming pleasure takes over any logical mind and you’re screaming out his name. Preoccupied with your own pleasure, you hardly noticed the stiffening of Doyoung’s arms around you, until you felt the warm ropes of his cum threatening to spill out.

For a moment, the whole world seemed to go quiet. Time stopped for a minute or two as your body slowly comes down from such a high. Your chests rise and fall in unison, both desperately panting to collect your breaths again.

You lean your head back against the wall, your half-lidded eyes meeting Doyoung’s. Your lips hang slightly ajar as the thumping of your chest increasingly gets louder and louder in your ears. You rest your forearms on his shoulders, weakly interlocking your fingers together.

You pant. “Do you fuck all your costars like that?” Lazily teasing with half of a smirk.

Doyoung leans in, still inside of you, unthinkingly pecking the side of your lips. He whispers into your ear, “Just the one I like.”

ACT IV THE CODA

The stage of the theatre you’ll be performing at a week from now isn’t much vastly different from all the ones you’ve previously performed at. However, the role that you’re playing this time is leagues away from your prior roles. This self-applied pressure weighs down on you up on this very stage. The bright, hot stage light shining on you doesn’t help with the feeling of unease either.

“One last run-through, everybody!” You hear a distant voice call out—from where, there’s no way to tell. Except from where you are stood on stage, everything else surrounding you is shrouded by utter darkness.

You take your position, prepared to act out the last scene of the ballet one more time. What’s one more to the couple dozen times you’ve done this today?

The symphony begins brightly, instruments layered on top of each other in harmony. You make your way across the stage, running in the ballerina way to run on your tiptoes. A huge cardboard cutout of a cliff faces the audience, and behind it are steps leading to a platform about 10 feet high. Following the buildup of the music, you climb gracefully up the steps, or the cliff, and the violin cue prompts you to jump off the platform and onto a soft landing mat about halfway down.

You land on your feet, nearly unstable enough to topple over but you don’t. Quickly, you scramble to get off of the mat so that when Doyoung jumps after you, he doesn’t completely crush your body upon impact.

Karina stands in the wings of the stage, waiting for you to come over to her. When you do, she places an arm around your shoulders. “Feeling better?”

You give her a shake of the head, “That jump never gets better, no matter how many times I do it.”

She shakes your shoulder gently with her hand, “Well, you have the whole of tonight to recover.”

A thud sounds from behind you and as you turn, you see Doyoung already stepping off of the landing mat, as if jumping from 10 feet up in the high has zero effect on him.

Not long after he gets on the ground, the music stops abruptly. Then, a familiar voice follows, one belonging to your director.

“Alright, that’s enough everyone!” You hear Colette’s disembodied voice booming out of a speaker from somewhere in the auditorium. “Get some rest, you are all coming to tonight’s company dinner. No excuses.”

Excited murmurs and mumblings surround you and Karina from the other dancers. With your head turned, you catch Doyoung’s eyes for a moment. He locks onto you, before breaking away with an uncharacteristically bashful grin on his face. One that speeds up the beating in your chest.

Karina laces her arm through yours, the contact causing you to come back to. “Come on, you’re helping me figure out what to wear for tonight.”

You share a chuckle with Karina as the elevator takes you up to the penthouse where your company dinner is hosted. The lift dings and its doors slide open, revealing the modern furnishments accompanied with the dark oak and golden accents of the wall panelling. You and Karina step out into the penthouse, every inch of it screaming luxury. You wonder how much money your company splurged to rent this place out—though you probably won’t want to find out. 

Floor-to-ceiling windows line one of the walls, the view of the city underneath breathtaking. “This is insane,” Karina mutters lowly beside you. She turns to you, a wide smile on her lips that shows her teeth. 

Taking in a deep breath, you simply nod, still bathing in the air of glamour all around you.

Off to the side is a long table piled with entrées and small desserts, a few people lining up around it. You nudge Karina with your shoulder and point a finger towards the table. Without exchanging a word, the pair of you make your way over to the food bar.

About an hour into the event, most everyone has arrived. Not that you kept paying attention after you spotted a certain someone stepping off the elevator.

Colette stands at the end of a glass dining table, carefully climbing up onto one of the chairs. A champagne glass in her hand, she raises it high and clinks a butter knife against it. The ring sending the room into silence.

As every one of your colleagues turn their heads towards her, you all instinctively gather around the dining table, waiting for the beginning of a speech that is guaranteed to follow.

“Thank you all for making time for tonight,” Colette wears a pleasant smile as she speaks, “I know you’re all very busy with the show next week.” It doesn’t take long before you’re zoning out onto some vase with a meticulously curated bouquet placed within it.

“And especially thank you to our principal dancers, Y/N and Doyoung,” at the mention of your name, your attention reverts back to Colette, hoping you reacted quick enough that she didn’t catch you looking off. “For taking this tale and giving it the passion to make it our own.” She lands her eyes on you, stretching her lips wide into an adoring smile.

You reflect her expression, raising your glass in acknowledgement before she turns to Doyoung on the opposite side of the circle you’ve formed.

Your eyes dart towards the sign signalling where the bathroom is. “Hey,” you whisper to Karina standing next to you, “Can you hold this for a sec?” Handing over your glass to her as she takes it in her hand.

Discreetly, you weave your way through the mob of people towards the bathroom by the elevator. “And of course, thank you to our corps de ballet,” you hear Colette’s voice trail off and get shut out by the heavy wooden door as it closes behind you.

The bathroom is lined with elegant, black tiles with gold carvings alongside the edges. Three stalls stand on the left side of the room, with a singular, large, modern sink on the opposing wall. 

You make your way over to the edge of the sink, your reflection meeting you in the mirror. Suddenly, sounds of cheer fill the room and you catch a movement to your right. The door is slightly ajar with a figure pressed up against it having already made their way in. 

“What are you doing here?” You blurt out.

Doyoung leans back, completely shutting the door and the noise out, “It’s a public bathroom.”

You turn your body entirely to face him. “It’s a women’s bathroom,” you correct.

“I know,” he shrugs as he walks over to you.

Your eyebrows furrow themselves and your chin tucks inwards slightly as you regard him with some judgement visible on your face. “Oh, great, make yourself comfortable, then.” You quickly check the stalls for anyone else in here by pushing on the doors with the tips of your fingers. Thank God no one is in here.

Doyoung looks down at you, seemingly amused at your reaction.

“What?” You utter with a slight edge of agitation.

“What?” He repeats, though much more relaxed.

You fold your arms, giving him a look.

“Can’t I pay my favourite costar a visit?” He tilts his head, tiny strands of his hair falling out of place.

“Not in a bathroom with everyone else we work with outside—No. Did anyone see you?”

Doyoung dismisses your question with a shake of the head, but you’re not sure how confident you should be in his answer. “They’re all excited about the bonuses that Colette just announced the company’s paying out.”

His elaboration gives you a little more reassurance.

Still, cautiousness rings in your bones. “What do you want?” 

Doyoung stays silent for a second, studying your features before responding, “Why do you look pissed at me?”

“I’m not,” you counter.

“You are.”

“I’m not.”

Doyoung doesn’t give another rebuttal, but instead looks at you knowing that you yourself know you’re full of shit.

He holds your gaze until you finally speak up. “I’m just nervous,” you confess.

“About?” He strokes his hand up and down your arm, then giving you a squeeze right above your elbow.

“I don’t know,” You allow your body to lean into his touch. “I don’t want to mess things up by people finding out that…” Even without finishing your sentence, Doyoung knows what you were going to say.

He places both hands on your arms, pulling you closer to him until he can plant a kiss on your forehead. “Even if they find out, it won’t change anything.”

Hearing this, you know he’s right. There’s nothing for you to be nervous about regarding your secret rendezvous with Doyoung, but the things we are nervous about often has no rational rooting.

You manage out a faint smile before Doyoung envelopes you in his arms.

“I know a way to destress, now that I think about it,” he murmurs in your ear.

You pull your head from resting on his shoulder, looking at him with an expression on his face you know too well.

“And what is that?”

His smile reaches the bottom of his eyes, curving upwards and carving into his irises. Using the side of his finger, Doyoung tilts your head up at him, lining your lips up with his as if he’s done so thousands of times before.

He gently presses a kiss onto your lips, soft and delicate like you’re a fragile paper crane that will crumble under too much pressure.

“Mh, tired today?” You tease, not used to this display of tenderness from him.

“And what if I am?” Doyoung leans back, taking in your visage fully. “It’s hard being the centre of attention all the time—”

“Shut up,” you sternly spit, taking his lips into yours again. “I have a hard time believing you don’t like the attention,” you mumble against him.

“Well, that depends who it’s from,” Doyoung’s hand runs the entirety of your back, tugging lightly when he reaches your waist.

“And coming from me?” Shameless. Absolutely shameless in your attempt to pry some sort of accolade from him.

Doyoung brushes his thumb along the ridge of your lip, “You know the answer to that,” eliciting a smirk from you.

You peel your torso off of him, hands pushing on his chest. “Let me give you some attention then.” Even without looking down, you skilfully undo the button of his dress pants, sliding them down just enough that you can slip a hand inside.

Pressed up against his body again, your fingers slide down along his v-line inside his briefs.

As Doyoung mutters a breathy, “Fuck,” your attention is turned back to the door.

“Shit, what if someone walks in?” You pull your hand back, as if someone actually did.

Doyoung offers with a roguish charm, “I locked the door.”  

You slap a hand onto his chest, not too hard. “You planned this,” you say, more like an accusation than a question.

He shrugs idly, looking pleased with himself.

“Motherfucker,” you mumble under your breath but you’re so close to Doyoung that he hears you loud and clear, only chuckling at you in response.

Your hand slips back down, fingertips feeling the base of his dick, half-hard. You snake your fingers around the contour of his shaft, wrapping your thumb around the other half of it.

Doyoung watches your hand writhe around, curses slipping from his tongue. 

There’s not much quite satisfying as watching Doyoung fall apart at your mercy. Your hand strokes what you can of his cock, slowly as you begin to feel more and more of his blood rush to it.

Doyoung has his head tilted back, exposing his neck wholly. Every dip of his Adam’s apple as he groans made visible to you.

“Fuck,” You hear him whisper next to you.

You pumping your hand up and down has made him fully hard, the tip of his cock pressing right up against his pants.

At the sight of this, you decide to stop.

The sudden absence of your hand snapped Doyoung out of his trance. “What?” He exhales.

You pull his trousers back to where it sat on his hips, “We’re in public,” zipping it up again. “You want to walk around after coming in your pants?” You raise your brows at him.

He scoffs, hands supporting himself on the edge of the sink, “So, your solution to that is making me walk around rock hard instead?”

You push yourself up to peck him on his cheek, “I’m saving you tonight’s laundry.”

The water turns on as you run your hands under it, washing them quickly before shaking them dry.

Doyoung watches you in disbelief, and still half-dazed.

Seeing his disheveled hair, you push some of the strands back—flashing him an innocent smile before unlocking the door and heading back out to the dinner.

There’s less than 24 hours before the premiere of the show you’ve spent the last 2 months working yourself tirelessly for. Logic would dictate that you should probably get whatever rest you can while you can. But you’re not a big fan of logic, and neither is your body judging by the fact that you cannot fall asleep despite it being 2am.

Unsurprisingly, you find yourself in the practice room that you’ve more or less confined yourself to. But tonight, you haven’t been doing anything in here. If alternating between staring in the mirror and staring out the window counted as anything, then you’ve been productive tonight, but otherwise, not so much.

Your mind’s been racing nonstop. This is your first show as a principal dancer. Every other show you’ve done previously, you’ve had a minor role in. It’s only natural that you’re nervous, you keep telling yourself.

More and more of the city lights are turning off one by one. The city sleeps, and it feels like you’re the only one awake to watch.

About an hour ago, you sent a message saying goodnight to Doyoung. For some reason, your mind keeps coming back to him. 

You continue to sit in silence, with the only thing occupying your mind being your thoughts.

15 minutes pass, and you’re still not feeling the effects of tiredness.

“Y/N?” You hear a voice disrupting your train of thought. Snapping your head around, you see the outline of the person who’s been inhabiting your mind continually.

He walks through the empty studio, the lights off once again, over to you sat by the windows. 

“Why are you here?” You mutter faintly as Doyoung sits down on the ground next to you.

“I knew I’d find you here.”

You look at him in the darkness, your arms folded around your knees, “Couldn’t sleep.”

“I know,” He says gently, letting the silence hover over the two of you.

He doesn’t begin to say anything else. 

A minute passes. Then, two. Then, five.

It’s somewhat weird to think that just a couple months ago, there’s no way that you could sit in silence with the man beside you and not pick a fight with whatever minute thing you could think of—like how he breathes too loud, or sits too strange. But now, it feels like the most natural thing that you can do.

“Are you scared?” You finally break the quiet.

“Scared?” Doyoung turns his head towards you, “No.” He contemplates for a moment before continuing, “Anxious, yes.”

“Why?” You meet his gaze, “You have nothing to be anxious about.”

“That’s what I keep telling you,” he eases with a grin.

You turn over his words in your mind.

Before giving you too much time to dwell on what he said, he begins again, “After tomorrow, you’d have thousands of admirers. Thousands.”

That puts a small smile on your face, “You’re saying that as if it doesn’t apply to you as well.”

“I wouldn’t care for them,” he follows without missing a beat, “The only admirer I need would be up on that stage with me.”

Mock aversion visible on your face, “Who? Because I’m definitely not one of your fangirls.”

“Yeah, yeah, you say that,” he rolls his eyes away from you.

Once again, the pair of you let the solitude linger around. A shift in mood rolling into the room with it.

“You know what I admire the most about you?” Doyoung’s sudden edge of sincerity rendering you somewhat taken aback.

“No, and don’t tell me,” you struggle to hold back an awkward smile, turning your face to the window.

Doyoung nudges you with his fist against your arm. “I’m trying to be an honest, heartfelt person here.”

“Don’t.”

He looks at you, evidently annoyed by your dismissals. “Fine, you want to know what I hate about you?”

You pause for a second, “Give it to me.”

“I hate that you won’t believe me when I try to tell you how good you are.”

You say nothing. It’s less that you’re choosing to say nothing, but more so that you don’t know how to respond to that.

“I hate that you won’t believe yourself.”

There’s an unseen vulnerability that meets back at you when you turn to look at Doyoung. The feeling that bubbles in the pit of your stomach isn’t one unfamiliar to you. In fact, you find yourself feeling like this more and more as time as pushes you towards this moment in your life. The feeling that Doyoung wholly and entirely understands you. The feeling that you can bare your soul to him, and he wouldn’t shift his ground.

“That’s not true,” you quietly manage.

Doyoung breathes a deep breath, his lips stretching weakly into a curve. He extends his arm out, “Come on,” offering it to you. “Dance with me.”

Singlehandedly, he pulls you up off the floor, leading you to the centre of the room. “Hold on,” he utters as he picks his phone from out of his pocket. Tapping on the screen a few times before a soft melody begins, and slipping it back inside the pocket. With one hand wrapped around your waist, he lines his other hand up with yours. Gently, he folds his fingers, lacing them in between your own.

Rather than opting for all the complex routines you and Doyoung have learned and mastered by now, he begins to guide you through a simple waltz. Just step, step, and step. Over and again, the pair of you orbiting in your own circle along to the soft hum of the music. 

Doyoung holds your hands closer to him, kissing your knuckles. “Whatever happens tomorrow, know that I will be right there by you.” 

His words, for some reason, carries so much weight with them. The phantom touch of his lips on your fingers a reminder of all the ways he’s been with you through this tempestuous happening. 

The moonlight illuminates his back, a bright halo outlining him.

For what might be the first time, you wholeheartedly believe him. 

You can’t offer Doyoung more than a beam, allowing yourself to accept what you know to be true. 

So, you simply melt into his touch, letting him guide you through a waltz in the dark.

⋆˚☆˖° ⋆｡ﾟ🦢 ｡⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁

note . . . thank you for taking the time to read this piece of work by me. truthfully, it took so much to write this, and even though it is definitely not the best seeing as i started this project more than half a year ago, finishing this still gave me some sense of accomplishment. that said, whatever your thoughts are, please let me know! i love feedback and thrive on interactions and comments. thank you again!