#but someone needs to remind me that i will need this free time for writing my thesis and taking care of myself

[aeolianblues]

Even as I write this all though, I am not a millennial. I did consider this 'my time' because it's the first one I remember. I was not around in the 90s, everything I know about grunge and 90s TV and Britpop and whatnot is secondhand. Often thirdhand. Books, magazine scans, interview snippets. But I remember the 00s. Many colourful glittery clips, that's how mum did my hair. The multiple layers of gaudy colours; skirts (even shorts!) over tights of a different colour and striped tops was how my mum dressed me. Like the Disney kids on TV. Everyone in your grade was into Hannah Montana (they made kids books out of the episodes, does anyone remember?) Blackboards in school. Chalky hands wiped on your school uniform. Sure, I was too young for 'Oberlin College in the early 00s in NYC', but I had still considered these very 00s 'my time'. I lived it, so it's mine.

But as I get older I slowly begin to feel now to be my time. And I hope that one day I'll look back at the '20s as mine too. I'd love to be old and write, what were the 2020s?

They were Grian Chatten's poetry, Charlie Steen's shiny golden underpants at Glastonbury 2023. It's My Lady Of Mercy and swooning over girls with Abigail Morris. It's embracing the rejected freak with Alt Blk Era, we don't give a damn if they like it, we're normally like this.

It's showing two fingers to the monarchy, shouting 'Brits Out!' with Kneecap, it's Mo Chara reaffirming 'we don't hate yous, it's the government and monarchy. We have much more in common with a working class unionist than some rich fellow from Dublin'. It's Cuntology 101 with Lambrini Girls, it's reminding people of all the Calvin Harris songs that The Dare ripped off word-for-word and the weird 00s nostalgia.

It's Ezra Collective being nominated for BRIT album of the year for Dance, No One's Watching. It's a blurry phone pic posted on English Teacher's Instagram of the free drinks they got at their table for being invited to the Mercury Prize 2024 (SO real of them).

It is lounging in chaise longues all day long in floppy hats in the Isle of Wight, it is being someone's Iced Tea Boy, it's night raves with Master Peace, it's brats on the dancefloor, it's Chapell Roan inspiring people to stand up for themselves and take no shit from anyone, bitch! It's just heartbroke bitches, high heels, six inch In the back of the nightclub, sippin' champagne; it's women artists winning back the rights to their own music and going on to win over the world! It's Phoebe Lunny scaling a 20 ft. pole in a Leeds festival tent in heels and a skirt to fly a Palestinian flag high up on the Reading and Leeds 'Festival Republic' tent.

It'll be okay, we just need to be weird and hife for a bit and eat an old sandwich from our bag.

It's going to see your friends' tiny bands covering the Strokes every two weeks and knowing none of them have a chance in hell of making it because the music doesn't pay and the rent's too damn high. It's Lily Fontaine giving evidence in court about how even succesful working class bands like English Teacher can't afford to go on tour. It's Carlos O'Connell calling out other artists at the Rolling Stone UK awards for their silence on Palestine, it's Kneecap's 'You can all stay just don't be cunts'. Saoirse don Phalestine, quoth Kneecap. It's oppressed languages breaking through into popular music, it's Alffa's Gwenwyn becoming the first Welsh language song to cross 1 million streams on Spotify.

It's Jocelyn Si rejecting the homophobes and declaring, let us be young! It's Cal 'your boyfriend was looking at my legs' Francis singing about the price to pay for being this way. It's CMAT not giving a fuck and tearing into racist country music, no matter of whether or not she'd ever be able to work in the genre again. It's Skinty Fia talking about the lived immigrant experience. It was Olivia Rodrigo 'reviving' 90s alt rock for the masses, it was 16-year-old rockheads calling Josh Kiszka 'pookie' on Instagram—something unimaginable in 2017. It was James Smith embracing that indie artists can indeed aspire — to make funky pop hits!

Who knows what else the 2020s have to offer us. The Grammys are on Sunday. In a fever dream, someone like IDLES or Fontaines D.C. could walk away with one. A truly indie artist. I'm so scared about that. I just hope that in 20 years, I will still be able to say things like this

‘Indie sleaze’ is not 2014, ‘Indie sleaze’ is not 2014, ‘Indie sleaze’ is not 2014, ‘Indie sleaze’ is not 2014!

It’s not tumblr-core and it’s not Lana Del Ray or 2013 AM, it’s not #girl interrupted, it’s not Ethel Cain (she literally is an artist of our time, what are you on about.)

It was 2001 with the Strokes on the cover of the NME every 2 weeks, it was cabaret night and English poetry with the Libertines in 2002, it’s those red and blue military jackets, it was the fucking grease in Julian Casablancas’ hair, it’s ’cocaine was the banker’s drug’ quoth Alex Kapranos, it was Don't Go Back To Dalston and the heroin, it was red and black horizontal striped tops and tight black shirts as evening wear, it was Russell Lissak’s mop top and a full page interview with London hairdressers in the NME in 2005, it was Jack and Meg’s saturated red and white dresses, it was glued glitter on the cover of Santigold’s first album, it was the sleaze and the sex of CSS’s music, it was ‘cold light, hot night’, it was the anti-Bush and anti-war stances of the bands at the time, it was America by Razorlight, it was Popworld on telly and Simon Amstel being a little shit to musicians, it was Karen O defying death on stage nightly, it was throwing up in shitty nightclubs on god knows what drugs, it was the fucking danger knowing this could all collapse any second—and rightly, it should. It was the godawful egos at DFA, it was knowing that while you were lucky to be seeing these bands live, you’d fucking hate them if you had to spend even a minute in their individual company. It was Amy Winehouse telling the world to get the fuck out of her business, it was Leslie Feist and Peaches sharing a dilapidated flat above a sex shop in Toronto.

It was horrible camera flash and red-eye editing softwares and putting your feet by the warm, spinning fans of your computer while it whirred away and downloaded your albums in *checks* 46 more minutes. It was horrible, it was dirty, it was gritty, we all hated it and thought the 90s were the last time music was good and that nothing good had happened since 1997. It was garishly bright clothes we were all embarrassed of by 2011, it was multiple layers and leggings and asking your mum to cut the itchy tag on the back of your low rise jeans only for her to snip your back. It was bell bottoms at the start of the decade. It being thankful that by 2017, no one would dream of wearing low rises anymore, please please, please let them never come back.

It was faux nostalgic of the past itself. It was ‘please make sure baby you’ve got some colours in there’ in your clothes. It was moral panic over emos. It was wanting to escape into a better past that you could see was visibly impoverished in the present. It was watching your favourite programmes become less and less relevant on air. It was watching MTV decisively die a horrible death. It was watching important venues and nightclubs get bulldozed. It was watching the last regular broadcast of Top Of The Pops in 2006. It was seeing how the 2009 financial crisis most definitely put a stop to independent music in the western world for a decade, it was watching the rise of bedroom DIY and electronic music. It was seeing the phrase ‘SoundCloud rapper’ being coined. It was the rise of Disney pop. It was counter-culture Justin Bieber hatred. It was the MS paint meme of those tumblr girls thoroughly unimpressed by the guy.

It was not using the words ‘indie sleaze’ at all, in fact. That’s a retconned word. It was garage rock revival. It was ‘post-grunge’. We didn’t care what it was called, we hated it all the same. It was a lead into a decade of despair and nihilism, it was the last hurrah for the music industry before it splintered into a thousand little online ecosystems, it was the last time we had physical community and any shared pop cultural moments. It was Live8 2005. It was the same as it is now, and it was a time that’ll never happen again, for better and for worse.

But one thing is for sure: it was decisively dead by 2014. Santi and Karen O’s 2012 collab was its last hurrah and it was dead by Comedown Machine by the Strokes (2013). It has nothing to do with 2014.

[maudie-duan]

A/N: Okay! So it's here! The final part! This was already fun to write, but you guys made it even more fun, and I appreciate you dearly!

Tag List: Always Open

All Chapters<-

Word Count: 9.8k

Warnings: 18+, Language, Smut, Eating Disorder, Talk of Pregnancy, Mentions of Abortion, Teen Angst, Emotions. (If I miss anything, let me know.)

Two and a half hours was a long time to sit in silence, and that’s exactly what we did.

I don’t know why I chose that moment, but everything about that night was so overwhelming. What were we doing here when everything outside this little world we created was up in flames? Each flame was a burst of reality lapping at my feet until I tried to find a way to extinguish it. It was like Harry didn’t want to see it like he was choosing not to.

He told me he loved me, destroying my world in two seconds. They were words I would have longed to hear, words I’ve only dreamed of him saying, and I felt the same. In my heart, I knew I truly did love the guy he was in those moments when we didn’t have to think; we could just be, but here I was carrying around this burden that kept stealing these tiny moments from under my feet—a chastising reminder that the world as I knew it was about to end and there was nothing Harry could do to change that.

I couldn’t just be in the moment without thinking about this thing, this baby, or whatever it was; I didn’t even know if it had a heartbeat, and to be honest, I didn’t want to know. 

I didn’t want to know anything about what this could turn into. I knew exactly where this would lead, and what could I do with a baby? What would Harry and I do with a baby? Raise it, I know, but I didn’t want to raise a baby when I hadn’t even gotten a chance to be me, figure out the person outside of the life I’ve always known. 

I’ve always had a plan that didn’t include a baby or Harry. I had let the idea of Harry go a long time ago, and nowhere did it include me falling in love right before I could finally get away, break free of this person—me—and become someone who didn’t have to fit into the mold that was created for me—I needed to be free. 

I know now that I didn’t go about it the right way—Even though I felt like my world was crumbling around me. I still felt his words settling deep into my bones, and when we got to the car, all smiles, his hand in mine, I wanted to stay in that feeling—I wanted one last moment before I had to yank the rug out from underneath us.

So, I did what I knew we were both good at. Looking back, I know it was wrong, but I wasn’t ready to let Harry go. I knew I would have to let him go tomorrow when our world split back into two, and we couldn’t be this, what we were when we were together, stay in the comfort of knowing he felt the same way because it wasn’t real.

I felt him humming through my body as we pushed our way through the crowd, stepping out into the cold. I watched the fog of his breath rise into the night sky like a secret only I knew. When we locked out, he smiled, his mouth tilting slightly, his dimple dipping. He licked his lips, and I knew—I felt it buzzing deep in my belly—the want, the need.

When we got to the car, the windows were fogged over, the drop in the night temperature on our side, and when he opened my car door, I slid in, gazing up in time to catch the crooked smile playing at his lips as people passed behind him, on their way to their cars.

I followed his shadow through the windshield, clutching at my jacket to warm up, my breath coming out in puffs of clouds, dissipating every time I took another. My heart was racing, and when the door handle clicked open, I turned in my seat to face him, surveying him as he slid into the driver’s seat, Harry looking over as soon as he was in. 

Harry shifted his seat back, not wasting any time, and then leaned forward, turning on the car—the cold air blasting through the vent hit my skin like ice as I shimmed out of my jacket. Harry did the same, a knowing smile playing on our lips. I shoved my boots off, lifting my hips off the seat to reach under my dress and slide my panties off.

“God—that’s so fucking hot—” He breathes, leaning in to kiss me, then I pull away, turning the dial of the radio up as ‘Talk Show Host’ by Radiohead blares through the speakers. I swear it couldn’t have been any more perfect, the song feeding into our hungry, and then the sound of Harry’s belt bucks fills the car, metal scrapping together, and I’m fucking salivating, peering over at him, his face so serious.

When his jeans are past his hips, his hard dick springs up, a pleasant surprise every time. I’m on my knees in a matter of seconds, reaching over to wrap a cold hand around his shaft, and he sucks a breath through his teeth, wincing at the chill, but as soon as I wrap my warm mouth around the head of his penis, he gasps, slowing relaxing into the pleasure.

“Fuck—baby, that’s so good—” he praises, spurring me on, and I want to do this. I want to make him feel good; this part I know I’m good at, a people pleaser, a pleasure giver, whatever you want, I’ll do it because that’s who I’ve been this whole time.

Then he says, “Baby—” and I peek up at him, taking in his face as he bites down on his lower lip, his head falling back against the headrest—and it’s so easy to take, and when Harry tells me he wants me, now, he wants me on top; He needs me now. I climb into his lap, wanting to give myself freely—whatever he wants, it’s his—he can have every single piece of me if that means I get to have him just like this, in this moment, carrying this memory for a lifetime, hoping deep in my bones that I’ll never forget.

I’m in his lap then, stretching past him to tilt the seat back further, Harry pushing his weight into the seat until it jostles us backward, my hand flying to the headrest as my heart beats faster with the sudden shift, and we both laugh, Harry, reaching for my face to kiss me.

The kiss is sloppy—wet mouths driving together as one of Harry’s hands moves away, then he lifts my dress, grabs my hip, and yanks me forward, and I feel his hard dick hit my inner thigh. He releases my face then, hurriedly guiding himself into me, the head of his cock opening me up, teasing my entrance, and I bear down onto him, pushing hard with my hips, fast, stealing his breath in one quick motion, his thick dick stretching me to my limits.

And then my only thought is, god, this couldn’t get any better; could it get better than this? This feeling is all-encompassing; it’s everything all at once, stealing me, taking me away, and all I want is to feel good—This feels good, this feels amazing, and his name keeps falling from my mouth, over and over. Then he says, “Marlowe—” a pained look in his eyes like he’s about to ruin it all, and I pick up the pace, needing this one thing, and he’s trying to take it away.

He seizes my hips then, pushing and pulling me back and forth, deepening the friction, and I yell out his name, overtaken by the sensation, trying to find purchase of my surroundings as I fall back into the searing wheel; a quick sound of the horn, alarming us to a momentary halt. Then Harry laughs, panic snatching me, and I clutch at my chest, trying to catch my breath as Harry thrusts his hips upward, bobbing me upward, nudging us back into motion.

My hand flies to the cold window, balancing myself, not wanting a repeat of the horn, “Love this—” Harry groans softly, a knot forming in my throat, and I close my eyes then, trying to stay in the moment. My back arches over the seating wheel, grasping at the windshield as my feet come up to the tops of his thighs, flat, finding stability, as I bounce my hips up and down, straining to find that same rhythm as before.

Harry’s hands seize my hips again, gliding up to my waist, and I press a palm into the dashing, holding myself up as I reach my dress, giving him a better view, my eyes roaming his face while he takes me in, pulling me down harder, deeper, “Just like—that—” I force between moans, the smile growing on his face, and I wish this could be enough, but this could never be enough and we both know that. 

And he’s pulling, and I’m pushing, and we’re both just pulling and pushing, taking and giving, and giving away until there’s nothing left because what will be left of us after this? When reality hits, when this is no longer our safe space.

“Baby—” He’s cries out.

“I’m getting close…” He breathes, and I nod, smiling down at him because he knows I love it when he says those words, that I love the idea of making him feel good, how the idea of us is just enough to push me over the edge.

All it takes is one last thrust, and I’m losing myself. Holding my breath as I succumb to the pressure, the tension knotting in my lower belly, and fall forward and wrap my arms around Harry’s neck, my whole body tensing, uncoiling as he says, “God—I love you—” He breathes, tightening his hold on me, “I love you so much, fuck—” And I feel him release inside me, burying his face into the crook of my neck.

It’s pain and pleasure, but where does one end and the other begin? I’m sinking into it, gasping for air, as Harry pants, hot puffs of air, and suddenly it’s so hot, the heat blazing through the vents—it’s too much—every touch and sound is becoming too much, nausea building in the pit of my stomach, pulling at my throat, and I’m sick; sick with the thought of all of it, and Harry is talking, and I can’t hear a thing past the pounding in my eardrums. 

And I have to force myself off of Harry, his face becoming a blur as I move ways, fumbling over the gearshift, climbing into the passenger seat, my head spinning, and I can’t hear what he’s saying—What is he saying?

That nauseous feeling is rising, dizzying, and I reach for the door handle, yanking it open as my head spills out into the cold air of the night, welcoming, as I heave up everything in my stomach, retching until there’s nothing left and I’m gasping for air; eyes watering, or maybe I’m crying, I can’t tell, then Harry is pulling me back into the car, tugging the door closed from behind me, then falls back into his seat, giving me space.

And then I ruin it all by saying, “I’m getting Abortion…” I confess, sucking in a deep breath, my chest rising and falling with the effort it takes to draw in a single breath, and I pull at the hem of my dress, feeling exposed, disgusted by my own decision, but I don’t have any other choice because there’s never going to be a right time to tell him.

I can’t even look at Harry; I can’t see the disappointment. I think he wanted something different, something that I couldn’t give. When I hear him move and shift around in his seat, I sneak a glance, enough to see that he’s angry, “Harry?”

“Don’t—” He starts, his voice breaking, and he clears his throat, “I don’t want to talk right now—”

“But—” I push.

“Seriously—!” he yells, shutting me down. Then he starts the car, cracks the windows, and switches the air to Deforst while I buckle my seat and lean down to shove my shoes back on.

The whole ride was me biting back sobs, on and off, while Harry sat there like a statue made of stone, impenetrable, icing me out in a way I didn’t think was possible. Confused, I found myself apologizing repeatedly, annoying myself and making him even angrier. 

His silence weighed heavy until I felt like I no longer existed, a mere ghost of myself. Every word I could have said vanished, leaving a hollow of what we could have been because there was no coming back from this, and I felt it as soon as Harry jerked to a stop in the driveway. He cut the engine and yanked the house key from my hand. Storming off toward the house, and I sat there until he was through the door, unsure of what to do. 

In his madness, Harry left the front door wide open. I could hear him stomping around upstairs, so I ran to the stairs, taking them two at a time, knowing exactly what he was doing. I couldn’t let him leave this house, not yet.

“Are we not going to talk about this?” I ask, bursting through the doorway.

“What is there to talk about? You’ve already made up your mind,” He spits, shoving clothes into his bag.

And his line silences me, “You didn’t bother talking to me about it before, so why does it matter now?” He adds, rushing around.

“Can you just stop for a second so we can talk?” I plead.

“I don’t want to talk, Marlowe, because I know whatever I say is not going to change your mind…so what’s the point?” He yells.

“So you wanted to keep it? Is that what this is?” I question, attempting to keep my voice calm.

“It doesn’t matter—Marlowe, let’s just drop it—”

“This does matter—this matters?” I push.

“What matters?” He laughs, a smug smile stealing his features.

“Us—” I force, second-guessing my words because his pointed stare makes me feel small, crushing me into tiny pieces.

“Really—?” Harry slams his bag to the ground, making me jump. “Do we matter?” He asks, a dry laugh slipping out with his harsh words. 

“If we mattered, then why didn’t you include me in your decision?” 

“I did! I told you I was pregnant, didn’t I?” I speak up.

“And if I hadn’t asked that day, would you have even said anything?” He pushed his anger back in full swing.

I shrug, “I don’t know—”

Then he shakes his head, pissed, “See—” he says, brows jutting up like I just proved his point.

“Harry, I was never going to keep it…” I scream at a breaking point.

“You mean, the baby—our baby?” he corrects me, breaking my heart all over again.

“Is it even a baby?” I question, wondering if he’s really thought this part through.

“It’s a baby to me—!” he yells at the top of his lungs, and this sets me off; we could have talked about this; at any point, he could have spoken up.

“So what was your end game here? Were we just going to have this “baby” and live happily ever after?” I ask.

“God—Marlowe…” he breathes, shaking his head, “Can’t you see all the work I’ve been trying to put in…trying to show you that we could do this? That I was on board.” 

“You mean the way we’ve been closing ourselves off from the world?” I question.

“Is that what we’ve been doing?” he shouts, throwing his arms up in the air—and was this what he was doing this whole time? Were all the baby facts him showing me he was on board? Was I supposed to take that as a green light, like yeah, let’s have this baby?

“Are you joking right now?” I spit.

“In what way do you think I’m joking?” He asks, ripping a hand through his hair.

“Because we can’t just pretend, Harry…We can’t just play house and act like this isn’t going to fuck up everything we’ve planned outside of this one thing—”

My words land hard, and I watch as he takes a step back, his jaw clenching, “ You mean what you’ve planned for your life…your life, Marlowe—”

“But what about you, Harry? Why are you so quick to throw your life away? It doesn’t make any sense…” I ask, frustration aching in my bones—and I’m drowning in it.

I thought the question would stump him and help him see everything more clearly, but then he says, “Is it really throwing my life away if it’s for you? Isn’t that what you want? I thought you wanted me.” Then his face breaks, the stone facade coming down with it.

“Harry…why does it have to be one or the other?”

“Because I can’t live with the thought of you going through with it…” he forces.

And I shake my head, my shoulders slumping, “Harry, this is real…this baby—if that’s what you want to call it…is a real thing, and what we’re doing right now…Harry, we’re just kids—I still feel like a kid—I don’t know what to do with a baby—” I tell him, moving closer to him, my voice lowering. 

“Can’t we just try?” Harry begs, tears streaking his cheeks. “I know we can do this—I promise I’ll be perfect…” 

He grabs my face in his hands, stroking away the tears that are spilling, blurring my vision. “Marlowe, I swear to you…I know that we can do this…” he pleads. 

For a second, I believe him; in fact, I know he would be great, but I don’t think I would because I’m mad just thinking about the fact that he’s pushing this so hard, and what? Would I hate him later, when it all feels too hard, and I’m trapped like I’ve been trapped here my whole life, and the only opportunity to leave is just a few months away, that’s all, and for once, I just want to fucking choose me.

“Harry…” I breathe as he presses his lips to my forehead, his hand moving to the back of my neck, deepening the kiss.

“Yes…” He whispers, and I grab hold of his shirt, clutching at the fabric, my throat tightening with the words I’m about to say.

“I don’t want to have this baby…” And I grasp his shirt harder, swallowing the burn each word left behind, waiting for him to speak, but he doesn’t say a thing. He just continues to press into the kiss, forcing his lip into my skin, his grip tensing around my neck as he shoves my head into his mouth so hard that it starts to hurt. 

He swallows then, biting back a small whimper that dies in his throat, and pulls away with such force that it knocks me back a few steps, anger riddling his face, etched so deep that it scares me, pinning me in place with his stare, but I can’t let go, I’m stretching his shirt as he tries to move away, and then he says:

“I don’t have anything else to say to you—” with such finality that it stills my blood, a cold sweat glazing over my palms, my grip weakening. He yanks his shirt from my hands, then snatches his bag from the ground and pushes past me, but I don’t chase him, and when I hear the sound of the door slamming, I just stand there, lost in the aftermath of what just happened. Knowing that no matter what I say to him right now, it won’t change a thing

I didn’t sleep that night. I moved around the house, resetting anything that looked out of place, washing the bedding, showering, and keeping myself busy. At one point, I turned my phone off so that I would have to consciously make the decision to call or text him—add a barrier in a moment of weakness. 

Why was it so easy to walk away? Did it have to be one or the other? Could we have walked away from this as friends? Or was it always going to end this way, two halves of a heart going their separate ways? 

Once I got home the next day, I crawled into bed, exhausted, already feeling like days had passed since I saw his last, since I heard his voice. 

He never took his hoodie, and I’ll never know if he did it on purpose or if he forgot it in the fury of leaving because he also left his toothbrush and his cologne that he had left on the bathroom sink.

I stayed in bed for days, knowing I had a whole week before I had to go back to school. My mom would come in throughout the day with trays of food and snacks, but they just sat there until she came back, the thought of food making my stomach churn. Then I would find myself hunched over the toilet, sometimes my mom silently holding my hair back and tucking me back into bed with a cold bottle of Pedialyte, that becoming the only thing I could keep down during my sporadic windows of consciousness. 

Every once in a while, I would stare at the label reading “Kids Approved Taste” and wonder if my mom still thought I was a kid, and then I would start to cry, wanting to stay her kid forever, not ready for the changes, knowing what needed to be done. Every new day was a constant reminder that something was growing in me, sucking the life from me, ruining everything in its wake.

It became this vicious cycle, my mom not giving up and me not giving in, and on the last day of my suspension, she had enough of my bullshit; she called my dad in.

“Marlowe—” He yells from down the hall, after hearing his limit of me and my mom going back and forth, “Listen to me right now—we don’t know what’s going on with you—” He booms as he pushes through the cracked door.

“I’m working on the biggest case of the year right now. Whatever the hell is going on right now needs to stop this instant—”

“Greg—” My mom attempts.

But my dad is cutting her off, “You have what? Two months left, and you’re trying to pull this shit? Over what, Marlowe? A breakup?” 

I swallow hard and glance from him to my mom, trying to bite back the sob bubbling up in my chest; he must see this, “Marlowe—” He says, ripping his glass off, and he presses his thumb and index finger to the bridge of his nose, then looks at my mom, who’s signaling for him to calm down.

“Please—Greg—” She tells him with a firm edge to her tone, and he nods, taking a deep breath.

“All I’m saying…is that you’ve put in all this work, and now I’d hate to see it all go down the drain over a guy who will mean nothing as soon as you go away to college…and honestly, Honey, none of like Trent to begin with…”

My mom cleared her throat as his last line landed. I wasn’t even thinking of Trent this whole time, which only made Harry’s absence more apparent than ever—driving home the fact that no one will ever know my suffering because no one even knows that we ever existed. The realization felt like a gut punch, forcing the air from my lungs. I’m sobbing all over again, mourning a boy that was never mine to begin with—a gut-wrenching longing that only he could stir in me, yet the feeling is familiar, and even though my nieve heart had once ached for him long ago, I could never imagine it feeling like this—Earth-shattering, and is this what love is? I would crawl on my hands and knees for him, do anything he wanted, but I knew what he would want, and it’s the one thing I can’t give.

My pride wouldn’t let me go to school; looking like hell swarmed over me. I wanted to look amazing. I needed to walk into that school like nothing had phased me, unbothered by Trent, not let Harry catch me down, become the same sorry case I’ve been since—I don’t know, before we existed.

Monday was fine; nobody acted or treated me any differently. Harry was the only one I couldn’t face, but he didn’t show up until Wednesday. Ignoring me, not even glancing my way when he passed me in the hallway—and me being pathetic—I couldn’t look away, feeling that magnetic pull, like a kick to the shin, an acute pain, straight to the bone, writhing in the misery of it until it went away, but it lingered, steadily looming over my head at the very mention of his name. 

For the first time, I didn’t have any friends or people that I wanted to associate with. Skylar had proven how shitty of a friend she was when I saw her cuddled up to Trent in the lunch room, but I didn’t have the energy to care; I just found an empty table and sat alone, shoving my headphones into my ears, to drown out the noise.

On Thursday, I found a way to leave Biology early so I didn’t have to pass by Harry. It made the rest of the day more manageable, and I left thinking, maybe I could do this until Friday rolled around, and that’s when the rumors started circulating.

At lunch, I sat at my table alone, trying to ignore the constant eyes on me. I had no clue why everyone was staring, suddenly interested in what I was doing, so I tried to brush it off and opened my Math book to catch up on one of the assignments that had fallen by the wayside. That’s when Skylar had the nerve to march over and open her dumb fucking mouth:

“Hey—” she says, slamming her hands down on my table. I look up at her, raising a brow, wondering what the hell she wants, and pull one of my earbuds out.

“What—” I spit, shaking my head.

She laughs, sending me a bitchy smile, like what she’s about to say just tickles her, “I just wanted to see how you were doing after that Abortion…” She asks, with a snide tone.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I tell her, trying to play dumb.

She crosses her arms then, “Are you sure? Because rumor has it that you definitely did—” Then she leans down, lowering her voice, “And I heard it wasn’t even Trents.” 

“Wow…that’s cool…” I forced, keeping my reaction neutral even though my heart was racing because I could brush off the first part, but how would she know about the second part?

“I was shocked…I didn’t think you had it in you to cheat on Trent…even he was shocked—” She expresses, placing a hand over her heart.

I interrupt her then, “Why are you wasting your time with this, Skylar? You already have Trent. Why are you acting like I didn’t know you were fucking my boyfriend, and does it look like I care?” 

Her face drops, then, “Exactly, dude, I don’t fucking care. Now, please leave me alone and go torture one of the many minions you have surrounding yourself over there, and fuck off…”

“You were always such a bitch anyway, Marlowe,” She huffs

I shrug, sending her my sweetest smile, “Well—Skylar—It takes one to know one…” Then she storms off as I catch Trent staring over at my table. He purses his lips together and shakes his head with disgust, and I sink into my chair and turn my music up, acting as if nothing had just happened, even though I was shaken to my core.

I thought it would blow over during the weekend. However, the rumors were still spreading like wildfire, burning through friend group after friend group until the condoms started appearing on my table at lunch, placed in my seat before class, becoming a run-on joke that no one wanted to drop. 

No one truly knew if the rumor was true; the only one who knew my plan was Harry. Would he do that to me? Throw me under the bus like he had nothing to do with a single aspect of this. Could I not trust him? Was he not trustworthy? Would he hurt me even more because he knew he could?

By Wednesday, I had enough of the bullshit. I needed to talk to him, so I showed up at his house after school, and when I knocked on the door, his mom let me in.

“Harry—!” She called up the stairs, “I’m Anne…are you a friend of Harry’s? He’s never had a girl over—”

“Marlowe?” He interjects halfway down the stairs, his eyes flicking from me to his mom, who had just reached her hand out to shake mine.

“Marlowe?” She repeats, “Well, that’s a lovely name, Dear,” the compliment rolling off her tongue with a thick accent. 

“What are you doing here?” He asks, cutting through the niceties with a sharp edge to his tone as Anne’s eyes widen.

“Harry—” She warns.

“I’m sorry mom…” He tells her, stepping down the last few steps.

She crosses her arms with a stern look, “Now, don’t apologize to me. Apologize to Marlowe… you’re the one with that nasty tone.”

“I’m sorry—Marlowe—” He forces through gritted teeth.

Her eyes swept to me, and then she said, “I was just putting dinner on. Will you be staying for dinner, Dear?”

“No—” Harry jumps in, “No—she was just dropping something off, right Marlowe,” And forced a smile to his face.

“Yeah—That’s it…” I lie, then he pushes past me, and I smile over at Anne like everything is fine, thinking that Harry got his sweet temperament from her, but this side of him feels venomous, every word biting to kill.

I follow him, closing the door behind me, “I don’t have much time. I have a lot of homework to make up—” He announces, pointedly like he’s tossing blame toward me. 

“Okay…should we talk in my car?” I ask, and he doesn’t respond. He just walks in that direction, pulling at the handle, waiting for me to unlock it, and I nervously fidget with the button, accidentally locking it twice, then finally managing to unlock it when I’m at the driver’s side, and we both climb in.

“What’s up,” He says as soon as we’re in. He’s gazing out the windshield, clenching his jaw.

His stance is making me nervous, wanting to call this off already, second-guessing why I’m even doing this in the first place. “Well…I wanted to talk to you about the rumors going around school?” I tell him 

“What about them?” He questions.

“Well—I don’t know—they’re like pretty specific.” I try to explain without any hint of blame.

His eyes flick to me then, “Yeah—I know…” And this is already like pulling teeth, his vague sentences starting to get me rile me up.

“I’m just wondering if you maybe…like said something by accident…? or maybe you thought you could trust someone, and maybe it got out?” I coax, keeping my voice calm, trying to placate his mood.

“I don’t know, Marlowe…” is all he says, looking away again.

It’s not a “no,” and I’m torn on how to continue. So, I turn and look out my window, my stomach twisting in knots, “Look—Harry starts.

“Someone was talking about you being pregnant, whether you would be showing when you got back, and I made some dumb comment like..I don’t know—like you probably got an abortion while you were gone…”

And he shakes his head, “I really didn’t think anything of it. I was mad at the time, and then it just got blown out of proportion…”

I’m staring at him, but something about his face no longer looks the same, like he’s changed, this angry side of him, ruining his best features, becoming the douchebag I pictured in the past; then he says, “It’s not that big a deal…”

I literally laugh out loud, making him jump, a crazed wonderment washing over me, “You can’t be fucking serious—” I snap.

“What? It will blow over. Just give it another week…” he tells me.

I shake my head, “You know what—I don’t even know who you are anymore…”

“Oh, come on—” he quips.

“No, I’m serious…in what world is it cool to throw me under the bus like that…like even if you’re mad…”

“Please, don’t tell me you’re coming over to lecture me about right from wrong…” he says, rolling his eyes, his head falling against the headrest—over the conversation already.

And then I slam my hand against the steering wheel hard, the pain reverberating through my wrist, and he sits up, “This is exactly why I’m not doing this. You’re acting like spreading rumors isn’t a big fucking deal…Well—I’m sure it’s not when no one knows this is you’re fucking “baby.” I yell.

“You need to grow up and stop acting like fucking an asshole—it’s not a good look for you—” I add.

He laughs, “I need to grow up—? Who tells someone they’re falling in love but then turns around and can’t even have a simple conversation with them?”

“Harry, we could have had as many conversations as you wanted…you could have brought it up too, at any point. Why are you acting like none of this was a two-way street? I shout, unable to keep my cool because he’s acting like a child, and it’s pissing me off. 

Harry looks me dead in the eyes, then “And would it have changed your answer?” And then I swallow my silence enough.

“Exactly—” He hisses, then yanks the door open and gets out of the car, slamming it so hard that I thought the glass would shatter.

The condoms never stopped coming. I thought the talk of prom would shift everyone’s attention, but it only seemed to add to the problem, feeding supply to the endless jokes that continued to come. I swore I would never have sex again if it meant this would go away—If it meant that everyone would shut the fuck up already. 

Two weeks had passed since then, and I still wasn’t in the clear. All I had to do was make it to next Monday, the day I was scheduled for my procedure—to rid myself of this whole situation and never look back. 

On Thursday, instead of our usual morning classes, we had our Senior Recognition Ceremony. The final trophies and awards would be handed out during the assembly, and the colleges of those who had already been accepted would be announced.

I kept looking at the clock, wishing it would move faster so I didn’t have to sit crammed next to Meily Jenkins, her elbow grazing my arm every time she moved, listening to her voice, wondering if that’s how she sounded under Harry, a deep pang of jealousy in my gut because I had already heard Harry was taking her to prom.

It’s crazy how he’s just continued with his life, not suffering a single consequence and taking Meily to prom. As if I wouldn’t hear about it, as if it wouldn’t tear me to sheards. It’s not like I wanted him to take me—I can’t even go as part of my suspension—but isn’t it ironic since I know they’ve already fucked? Is he going to have sex with her? Was everything he said a lie? I don’t even know what to believe anymore. Was this his last attempt to drive the hurt further? Because I’m already suffocating with it, what’s left? 

There were several surprises during that assembly: One, I didn’t realize how well-rounded Harry was academically; he was up on the stage more than anyone. Not to mention that he had already been accepted into five differant impressive colleges, each new fact chipping away at my soul, realizing how much he was willing to sacrifice.

The thought made my head spin, but when the Principal asked which school he thought he would attend. His voice rasped into the microphone, ripping through my body, and said, “I plan on moving back to England to attend the same Uni as my sister.”

All the girls around me gasped, but I knew this was a new decision because now he was going to run away, and maybe he was still sacrificing a lot since I’m sure this had everything to do with my choice; then his eyes swept to mine, and I tried not to flinch. 

“Alright, Mr. Styles, Well, we are certainly proud of all your hard work here. I think we can all see that you have great things in store for you, wherever the future takes you…” Harry’s eyes moved from mine back to the Principal, flashing a charming smile.

“Why don’t you go line up with others over there, son,” The Principal says, placing a hand on Harry’s shoulder, then points to the rest of the Seniors lined up behind him. 

My eyes follow Harry as he strolls toward the row of students waiting for the assembly to end. “And now I want to recognize these last two students. Who were both accepted to another prestigious school. This is kind of a rare case for us here, so we just wanted to give them a little shout-out, let them know how proud we are…”

“Marlowe Asher and Miely Jenkins—” He announces, and my heart drops, my palms going sweaty, and I grip the armrest as the girl next to me nudges me, urging me to head to the stage. 

I stand then, making my way down the row because, of course, I would be stuck in the middle; it can never be easy. Then someone gropes my butt, but they’re too quick and don’t catch who out of the three guys it could have been. All three of them are smiling, and honestly, I just want to make it to the stage without drawing any more attention to myself, so I brush it off and continue past the last two people in the row.

Miley was on stage from a previous award, and the Principal was already asking her what her plans were and what she would study. When I finally made it next to Meily, she sent me a genuine smile, an excited look on her face, so I smiled back. Then she turns back to the Principal and finishes with:

“I think it will be awesome to have someone I know from my hometown there. College seems pretty scary…” Then some guy in the audience yells my name, “Yeah—Marlowe!” followed by a catcall somewhere else in the crowd, and she glances over at me, face dropping slightly.

I run a hand through my hair, pulling down the hem of my shirt, feeling hollow and gross, wondering why I wore such tight jeans, “That’s enough, guys,” the principal scolds, then Miley passes the microphone, the thud of it hitting my shaking hand sounds around the auditorium, and she gives me a slight nod of support.

“Marlowe Asher…” the Principal starts, “You Asher sisters have left quite a legacy for this school—” 

“Yeah, she did—” a dude shouts, followed by a small roar of laughter, and I shift on my feet, my eyes darting to the ground.

The Principal clears his throat, ignoring the comment, “Miely just shared her plans for next year with us. What will your plans be?”

Then a girl yells, “Probably get knocked up!” and my eyes flick to the crowd as the room erupts into laughter, and I can’t see anyone’s faces because the lights beaming down on the stage are too fucking bright, and I’m locking my knees so hard that I think I might pass out. 

This throws everyone else off on stage. Teachers peer around at each other, dumbfounded, as the Principal tries to calm the audience. Miley wraps an arm around my shoulder, pulling us back toward the line of Seniors on stage; my eyes cast downward, afraid to look anyone in the eye.

Miley spots the microphone still in my hand, tasks it, and returns it to the Principal. When she doesn’t return to her original spot in line, she pushes me closer to Harry, our arms brushing, and I cup a hand over my arm, drawing it close to my body. 

Everything about his presence consumed me. The second we touched, his scent drifted toward me, a tingle up my arm. His scent filled my senses with everything familiar about him—and he was standing there next to me, so still, that stone statue back, so close but a million miles away. Did he care at all? Did he feel bad? 

When I tried to sneak a glance, the slightest turn of my head revealed his face was flat and rigid, jaw clenched as he clasped his hands behind his back. Was he angry? Was he still mad at me? And when I turn my head to really take him in, he shifts on his feet, then moves away, crosses in front of me without a look, and stands on the other side of Miley, leans in, and whispers something into her ear, and her laugh slices me open, the second it falls from her perfect mouth. 

Rejection for anyone was a hard truth to face, but no one did it like Harry. No one has ever grazed the surface long enough to cut this deep, make me feel like a hollowed-out version of myself, staving for the slightest morsel of a crumb, just a fucking speck of recognition; how could it not hurt him? —Him hurting me. Did he not feel anything? Did this not matter?

Because I believed him when he said, “I love you,” that it wasn’t just a passing phrase. I thought at most that we were friends, that there would be a friendship. He wanted love, a lover—isn’t that what lovers do? They love one another until they’re deep in their bone, so deep that they leave their mark for the world to see—and maybe the world will never know the mark that Harry left on my life, but I’ll know the feeling for a lifetime. 

What was love for him? Love for me was me making the best decision for us both, and maybe he hates me now, but will he hate me forever? Will there ever be a time when he realizes it was for the best? Will he be able to look back and see the good and not hate me for the worst because he felt bigger than any of the bad? We felt bigger; maybe we couldn’t last forever, but the ending should have mattered. We knew there was an ending; it mattered how it ended because I couldn’t bear the thought of this ending, of never talking to him again. 

On Friday, as Harry was about to pass me in the hall, I stepped in front of him, trying to make one last desperate attempt to smooth things over, “Can we talk?” I murmured as people passed around us, no one really paying attention except for a few random stares.

“Have you changed your mind?” he asks, his tone bitter.

“Harry…Please…” I silently pleaded, knowing he was about to walk away.

Then he tries to push past me, “I have nothing to say, Marlowe—” He spits as my hand presses flat against his chest, trying to hold him in place. 

“Harry—” I beg, his gaze harsh as he stares down at me.

“Hey, Styles—” A girl shouts, and I turn to spot Meily and Andy about to pass. Their stares flick to my hands on Harry’s chest, catching us in the middle of my distress, and I drop my hands just as Miely locks eyes with me, and I look away as they pass, feeling embarrassed by what this might look like.

“I’ve gotta go…I can’t be late for class,” Harry’s voice is gravel over my skin, pushing past me; my eyes follow, and I will myself not to scream his name because that’s all I want to do is fucking scream because I am so alone, he left me alone in this, and now I have no one as I stand in the middle of this hallway, trying not to cry because his constant refusal is etching away at what little I have left.

And if it couldn’t get any worse, as soon as I walked into the lunchroom, I was greeted by Trent, who was on his way out the doors, bumping into me and nearly knocking me over. 

When he puts a hand on my shoulder to steady me, his eyes roam down my body, then back to my face, and I knock his hand off my shoulder, disgusted by his approving eyes, “Man, it’s a shame I won’t be able to see you in that prom dress—” He says with a smirk on his face, the scab on his lip, fading.

“Whatever—” I breathe, trying to push past him, and his hands come up to my waist, pinning me in place.

He smiles then, “No, seriously…you’re looking good, Marlowe—” And he sounds genuine, but this approval is making me lose what little appetite I had, and I roll my eyes because he thinks I look good—What’s a few more pounds lost to stress, just enough to finally win Trent’s acceptance, that’s it—Starve myself until those low rise jeans he loved finally hang off my hip bones.

I shake my head and look away, then he pinches my side, and I shove his hands away, nausea rising to the back of my throat, “Fuck off, Trent—” I seeth, and he raises his hands in mock defense, backing away with a stupid fucking smile on his face.

And right on cue, there’s a scatter of condoms spread across the table, and I run my arm across the surface, swiping them to the ground, then sit, acting as if this isn’t about to set me off. That’s when Miley walks up to my table, kicking a few out of the way, “These people are fucking idiots…” She breathes, and I shrug my shoulders, silently peering up at her.

This girl is the epitome of everything I want to be at this moment: tall, blonde, athletic, kind; the girl that will get the guys, and she has no clue, no clue how lucky she’ll get to be when Harry holds her in his arms, sharing every slow dance at prom, the pictures, the kiss that was guaranteed to happen, and if I’ve learned anything, how easy it is to fall into bed with someone, the hard part was over, they had already had sex, now it will be like riding a bike, their bodies already familiar to one another.

“Hey…I’m sorry to bother you—” Meily starts.

“You’re not bothering me—” I tell her, trying to set her at ease because she looks nervous.

“I just wanted to tell you that I think it’s cool that we’ll be going to the same school…” Then she smiles.

“I know, ” I agree, returning the smile because she’s making it so easy; her easygoing smile beaming down at me feels like the only warmth I’ve had all day.

She shrugs. “Well—” Then she reaches into her back pocket, “I wrote my number on a piece of paper…I don’t know—in case you wanted to, like, meet up before, or like after we’re there…I won’t know anyone.”

“Same,” I say, clearing my throat, choking up at the thought of this small gesture, at the idea of having a friend who seemed brave enough to brave the stares of everyone around us.

“Thank you,” I smile, glancing down at the tiny piece of paper because it’s hard to stare into her big blue eyes without wanting to cry.

She shifts on her feet, “Well, you’re welcome to sit with his…” She invites, jabbing her thumb toward her table, and my eyes flick in that direction, Harry’s whole table staring over at us, except for him. Something about the scowl on Andy’s face seemed like an attempt to ward me off, so I politely declined.

“Don’t worry about Andy…She’s like that with everyone. When I told them what I was doing, Harry—” And my ears perk up at the mention of his name.

“He was the one that said to invite you…” She finishes, and then we both look over. Harry’s eyes, now concentrated on our interaction, and maybe I stare a little too long because when my eyes flit back to Meily, she’s watching me, eyes searching my face, and my eyes move to my table as I scoot upright in my chair.

“I actually have a lot of homework…my family is going on a trip next week. So, I’ll probably just do this…” I lie, my eyes falling on the books in front of me. 

She smiles, “That’s fair…well…I’m sure that offer stands…so if you get tired of sitting alone…You know where to find me…” Then she gives me a small wave and backs away from the table, awkwardly, but to be expected, because she probably hoped I would jump at the offer. 

After she walks away, I dive into my homework. I had gone around to all my classes warning them that I would be gone, organizing everything because I didn’t know how long I would be out after everything, after the process—From what I’ve read, everyone’s body handles the abortion procedure differently, depending on how far along you were.

I never attempted to figure out how far along I was. I didn’t want to know. I didn’t want to look up information later, and find out that the damn thing had an actual heartbeat, put any emphasis that it might actually be closer to a “living” thing than I imagined—right now, this thing was a parasite eating away my insides, ruining my entire future and that’s how it needed to stay, not this brain fuck that Harry kept trying to feed me because he chose not to understand.

When the bell rang, I started gathering my stuff, taking my time as people emptied their trays, the noise whizzing around me already making me nervous, gearing up for whatever asshole who wanted to poke a quick jab in passing; what I wasn’t expecting was Harry.

He stopped me dead in my tracks, almost dropping the books in my hands, and just as he was about to open his mouth, Josh came up and hooked an arm around his neck, dragging him with him. Harry breaks away, fumbling out of his grasp, eyes on me the whole time, my heart racing with anticipation, thinking, yes, this is it, he finally wants to talk, maybe he’s willing to come to an understanding.

Then his eyes drop to the ground, taking a few steps closer, and I watch as he bends down, snatching a gold foil-wrapped condom off the tiled floor, then looks up, a hateful smirk spreading across his face, and says, “You dropped this,” laughing as he tosses the condom onto the stack of books resting on my forearm. 

The sharp corner spikes me through the paper-thin material of my shirt, and I look down. The shiny package now resting against my chest— for a split-second, I stand there in shock, in total disbelief that Harry would sink this low—He had taken it too far; whoever he had been was a lie because that person, the one that stroked my cheek, and told me I was the only girl he wanted, would have never done this, but he was that same person, proving that he’s no different than any other guy.

Instead of giving him the reaction he must be looking for, I push past Harry and his stupid friend, my skin crawling with rage, knowing Josh’s laughter spurred Harry in motion. 

I headed straight through the cafeteria doors, bursting through them, and walked straight to my car, got in, and started the car—I’m never coming back here, I will never step foot in that fucking hell hole again, and just as I’m about to turn out of the parking lot, I spot Harry’s car. I drove my foot into the break, jerking the car to a stop, and then I slammed the car into park. 

Adrenaline had already taken way, coursing through me as I reached over in the passenger seat and tore through my pile of books until I spotted the gold foil wrapper. With all my rage, I rip the car door open with such force that it springs back—and I kick it open, sliding out of the driver’s seat, my feet hitting the pavement with a thud as I bound over to his car and shove the condom under his windshield wiper, knowing it will be the first thing he sees when he goes to unlock his car. Then I ran back to my car and sped off like a bat out of hell, not wanting to get caught by campus patrol. 

I’m lost in my fury as I speed down the street. At some point, I must have zoned out because the only thing that snapped me out of my haze was the honk of a car horn stuck behind me at a green light. The blare of the noise rattled me back to life, and I stepped on the gas peddle with a heavy foot and shot through the light just as it turned yellow, the car behind me riding my as until they could get around me and when I look over they’re flip me off.

It’s the nail in the coffin, and I burst into tears, nearly colliding with the car in front of me, my blurry vision hindering my site every time a tear spills over and runs down my face, and then I pull over into the nearest parking lot, scrolling through the numbers in my phone.

Once I reached Sienna’s number, I hit call, and my phone connected to Bluetooth as soon as her phone started to ring. The sound fills my car, rings several times, then goes to voicemail, and I call again. Each time I try, she forwards my call, and I’m calling over and over again. Calling until I’m so worked up that I stop altogether and bury my head into my arms, draped across the steering wheel, and cry until I forget where I am.

It’s not until the sound of an incoming car jolts me back to life that I look up, dazed, staring over at the screen spelling out Sienna’s name. When I answer, her voice booms through the car, her voice frantic:

“Lowe, is everything okay? What’s going on? I didn’t have my phone—shit—I’m sorry I missed your cars—”

The tears were back in full swing, and at first, I couldn’t say a thing like the muscles in my throat had fused, aching with every attempt, “Lowe, are you there?” She pushes.

And it takes a few hard swallows even to mutter the word, “Yeah,” and then she jumps right in. 

“Why are you crying? tell me what’s going on?” She pleads, worry helplessly filling her tone. 

“Sienna…” I sob out.

“Yes, Lowe, I’m here…tell me what’s wrong…”

“I just—” I try, and she waits for me to say something else, but I’m losing control. Every word being pushed down by a sob.

“Take a breath, Lowe, everything is going to be okay…” She coaxes.

I know her words are true, but right now, it all feels too heavy, like I can’t do this alone. I know that I can’t do this on my own because I am so scared and so lost in it all that I don’t know what to do anymore, “I just—please—” I beg.

“Tell me what you want—” Then her voice cracks, “Do you want me to come home? 

I cry out then, my sobs echoing over the speakers, “I need help—” I manage to finally say, “Please—” I plead.

“I’m packing a bag right now, okay…where are you?”

And I gasp in a shuddering breath, “In my car…” I tell her, peering around at my surroundings.

“Do you want me to call Mom and have her pick you up? Do you know where you are?”

“I know where I am…” I whisper, my tears sobering at the mention of “Mom.”

“Can you drive?” She asks

I suck in a hard breath through my nose, trying to clear a way for more air, then say, “I can drive.”

“Do you promise? Because you know, Mom will be there as soon as you ask, right?” 

And the thought breaks my heart even more because I should have just come to them in the first place, and I feel like a fucking fool, losing myself to another guy, “I promise—” I tell her, wiping at my eyes as silent tears fall, mourning the fact that I know everything is about to change, that I’ve changed, sad that a piece of me still wants to be that girl that pleases everyone else, that maybe would have given into Harry’s pleas if this would have happened a year ago, and that thought scares me too, would I have been willing to give it all up for him?

“Marlowe?” Sienna nudges.

“Yeah—” I croak, defeated, feeling like I’ve been hung out to dry by a world I didn’t know existed, caught between a parallel of past and present, yet the future is right now, in this moment, knowing everything will change for better or worse, and now, I’ll have to learn to be okay with that and when my sister says:

“Everything is going to be okay. Whatever it is…It’s going to be okay. We’re going to get through this…” She promises.

And then I say, “Sienna, I’m pregnant—”

A/N: Well, guys, that was the last part! Thanks for coming along for the ride!!

All Chapters<-

[yohankang]

girl helppp how to stop overworking myself. i promised myself i would finish this thing and take a rest but it didn't happen </3

[tortoise-teapot]

i still haven't read TME so i didn't know much about felassan's personality besides he's a chill and cool and kinda funny guy.

sweating because he is SOOOOOOOO similar to Avery. like, alarmingly. i seem to have accidentally made solas' boyfriend a Felassan clone. now the question is how am i going to use this

[unproduciblesmackdown]

oh the broadway world review of summer stock (a) loved it as much or more than anyone (b) has as much or more info than anyone and (c) generally has the most vivacity thus far

Summer Stock made its world premiere at The Goodspeed Opera House to a most deserving enthusiastic standing ovation. Based on the 1950 MGM film starring Hollywood legends Judy Garland and Gene Kelly, Summer Stock is a spectacular production with phenomenal dancing, feel-good music, and a sweet story, all modernized for today’s audiences.

Audiences will recognize and love hearing classic songs by Irving Berlin and from The Great American Songbook, including “Happy Days are Here Again”, “Accentuate the Positive”, “I’m Always Chasing Rainbows”, “It’s Only a Paper Moon”, “Me and My Shadow”, “Red Hot Mamma”, “’Til We Meet Again", and “You Wonderful You”. Summer Stock’s writer, Cheri Steinkellner, takes the original film story to a whole new level that both contemporary and classic theater goers will absolutely adore. Steinkellner provides additional lyrics to upgrade the story to first class. It’s hard to believe that she “got the call” to write Summer Stock in October, completed the workshop draft by March, and had the rehearsal draft ready by June for a July opening. Steinkellner clearly works well under pressure - Summer Stock is a diamond.

In the Writer’s Notes, Steinkellner elaborates on the restrictions of bringing the film to stage (like how heavy farm machinery wouldn’t fit up on the Goodspeed stage) and how she tackled answering the many questions that the original film glossed over: “Why is a Shakespearean matinee idol starring in a musical in a barn? What happens when you make show-people wake up at sunrise to muck out the stalls?” and more. She repositioned and repurposed the film’s original songs like “Howdy Neighbor” and “Dig for Your Dinner”, so the classic elements that film fans are looking for are still there - only, frankly, much much better. Lastly, she addresses the challenge of “crafting a [contemporary] story to support a diverse cast of characters with intention, authenticity, and care.” Steinkellner rose to the challenge, knocked it out of the park, and created a great musical in record time.

The story is simple and sweet. Set just after World War II, we meet Jane Falbury (Danielle Wade), a doting daughter working the family farm with her father, Lt. Henry “Pop” Falbury (Stephen Lee Anderson). The Falbury Farm is in trouble thanks to the devious and ambitious Margaret Wingate (Veanne Cox), who has grand aims for a monopoly over the Connecticut River Valley. Scheming with her naive son, Orville (Will Roland), they will stop at nothing to own the farm. Meanwhile, Jane’s showgirl sister, Gloria (Arianna Rosario), has moved to The Big Apple to make it on Broadway. She wins a spot in the chorus line of Joe Ross’ (Corbin Bleu) brand new show. With his sidekick and music director, Phil Filmore (Gilbert L. Bailey II) in tow and a Shakespearean star, Montgomery Leach, ready to take center stage, they hit a snag when they lose their rehearsal space. Gloria suggests uprooting the show to rehearse in her family’s barn. Jane, who is fresh out of farm hands, reluctantly agrees to let the actors stay in exchange for earning their keep. The company’s tight harmonies might not charm Jane at first, but they certainly had us swooning. I won’t spoil the entire plot, but will say that hilarity ensues, hearts flutter, dreams are realized, and it’s wonderful.

When I first heard about Summer Stock, I cynically thought that it felt too familiar. The show is set on a Connecticut farm whose owners have fallen on hard times and risk losing their livelihood. They turn to their Broadway friends, who are amidst the usual uphill battle of making it big in show business, and agree to put on a brand new production in the barn to raise funds to save the farm. It’s based on the film of the same name, features music by Irving Berlin, and includes incredible tap numbers, and spotlights America’s sweetheart Corbin Bleu. Hearing that alone, I’d think this was a copy/paste of Tony Award-nominated Holiday Inn: The New Irving Berlin Musical, which opened at The Goodspeed in 2014 and went to Broadway in 2016. We’ve seen a number of Irving Berlin musicals, including White Christmas, and the most recent Broadway production Nice Work if You Can Get It, starring Kelli O’Hara and Matthew Broderick. So, what more is there to add to this Broadway subgenre? If you’d asked me before, I would argue there’s “Nothing More to Say”. I was very wrong. Summer Stock raises the bar with phenomenal choreography, clever storytelling and humor, beautiful orchestrations, and unparalleled performers.

Speaking of unparalleled performers, the cast is perfection. There’s not a single throwaway line or character. They’re all exquisite gems and I’m running out of words to compliment them all. The “city mice” dancers and ensemble features Erika Amato, Hannah Balagot, DeShawn Bowens, Ronnie S. Bowman Jr., Emily Kelly, Francesca Mancuso, Tommy Martinez, Corinne Munsch, Gregory North, Kaylee Olson, Jack Sippel, and Cayel Tregeagle. Danielle Wade sweetly croons just like Judy Garland and swept audiences off their feet. As I left the theater, I overheard two ladies praising Wade for her stupendous performance, saying it was perfect likeness of Garland, yet even more meaningful. Arianna Rosario, as the sugary sweet sister, is absolutely delightful. Stephen Lee Anderson, as  the veteran and father, tugs our heart strings. Gilbert L. Bailey II and Will Roland had the crowd roaring with laughter as the feisty music director and innocent corporate heir. Veanne Cox, as the melodramatic mother and CEO of Wingate Agricultural Corporate, had the crowd roaring with laughter from the moment she spoke her first line. Not to be outdone, J. Anthony Crane, as the over-the-top Shakespearean star, brought down the house with his entrance alone. Together, Cox and Crane generate instant heat, which is especially appropriate since they rock the stage with Red Hot Mamma. The cheeky, interspersed Shakespearean innuendo is fast-paced, clever, and had the audience hooting and hollering. I would see the show again for this duo.

Last, but far from least, Corbin Bleu, as the show’s director, gives the performance of a lifetime. Bleu radiates pure joy and leads with heart, inviting his scene partners to shine with him. Audiences instantly fell in love with his gorgeous, velvety voice, and, understandably, swooned. Bleu previously won the Chita Rivera Award for Outstanding Male Dancing in a Broadway Show for his portrayal in Irving Berlin’s Holiday Inn, and his transcendent tapping in Summer Stock shows he’s not stopping there. Bleu’s dancing is out of this world! You can’t miss his charming and virtuosic spin on Gene Kelly’s iconic solo dance, featuring the world’s most unexpected dance partner. Corbin Bleu is a national treasure.

The 8-piece orchestra, lead by Goodspeed’s resident music director Adam Souza, performs the remarkable orchestrations, by Doug Besterman, beautifully. The score is demanding, but the musicians don’t let us see them sweat. As much as I’m gushing, I would recommend shifting the show to one hour earlier and give it a little trim. Not a haircutter’s inch, but a discreet tidy-up. As it turns out, I was in slight agreement with the obnoxious subscribers behind me, who disrupted a precious moment to voice their complaints, “This is two hours and forty minutes? Way too long!” I nearly turned to fisticuffs in defense of this phenomenal cast, but chose to deliver an icy, yet effective, glare. I digress, but Goodspeed subscribers are truly spoiled with top-rate performers straight from the Broadway stage. In any case, we could use a couple more developmental scenes to fully flesh out the plot, and I’d be willing to sacrifice by shaving a bit off some of the longer dance numbers (“Everybody Step” and “Dig For Your Dinner”) and songs. (Not too much! Just an inch! And don’t dare recast any characters!)

That isn’t to say that the dance performances weren’t epic: Summer Stock has the best dancing I have ever seen, hands down. The virtuosic ensemble, lovingly called “city mice”, perfectly deliver wildly acrobatic displays all with impossibly high-energy and make it look easy. Director and choreographer, Donna Feore, has made an unforgettable, magnificent Goodspeed debut. Feore makes use of every inch of the stage, making it feel larger than life, and her attention to detail is unsurpassed. The choreography is out of this world! Wilson Chin, scenic designer, set the stage beautifully. The Technicolor New England farm-turned-theater is framed with classic red-sided barn, delicate florals climbing the walls, and hurricane lanterns lovingly displayed as accent pieces. Summer Stock is Goodspeed’s best original production ever. The 12, which opens next, has very big shoes to fill. Summer Stock has its eyes set on Broadway. Does Summer Stock deserve a Broadway run? Absolutely. In this critic’s opinion, it couldn’t get there soon enough.  Perhaps my favorite aspect of the production were the many comedic theater flourishes. Broadway audiences will cry with laughter when they watch the city mice (actors) learn how to play the part of farmhands: “What is the farmer’s motivation?” “E-I, E-I!” Frankly, I want an original cast album yesterday. Finally, when it opens on Broadway, you’ll wish you had seen it at The Goodspeed first.

[iamespecter]

Hey, feeling trapped Thinking that you can't get out of this humdrum scene Time to turn this thing upside down Show these people what you really mean

Ever think that you could lose your mind? Could it be the big dream you'll find? No more waiting 'cause it's almost time, Everything is gonna be alright, alright

A part 2 to the Gangle fanart that I did, this time it's a much more wholesome version of the whole "unmasking" and the truck scene.

Timelapse, and explanation underneath the cut!

There's a lot of valid interpretations of what exactly happened during the whole ordeal of Gangle when she looks up to the night skies. And while I see and agree with them, I chose to give Gangle a reprieve here instead of going along with the much more... darker interpretations. As a little change of pace

There's also the factor of me wanting to draw Gangle having her dreams realized (in some way), and revitalized as well. Nothing really beats the glorious feeling of being reminded of why your passion for art is the way that it is, and the freeing sensation of letting yourself indulge in your creativity.

So I don't know who needs to hear this, but I want to remind each and everyone of us here that what you guys create is worth a thousand times more than any "real" jobs that you've been told your whole lives to get.

Don't give up on your dreams, whether you want to write a book, tell a story, draw a comic; Now is a better time than never. If you're someone who's too caught up in the stresses of life, and if you ever find yourself with a little bit of free time... it's the perfect time to remind yourself what makes you happy and just do it. :)

[jeonginsleftcheek]

Hate your guts (pt 1)

~ this fic is my Christmas gift💙 i'm dividing this into two parts bcs tumblr is shit

pairing: rockstar!hyunjin x rockstar afab!reader

genre: enemies to lovers, fluff, smut

wc: 26.6k

synopsis: hwang hyunjin, your sworn enemy. the person who finds and pushes all your buttons, annoys you and makes you angry. the person you're trying to avoid so badly, only to end up practically sharing a bed with him on tour. let the fun begin!

warnings: lots of swearing, smoking and alcohol, mentions of blood and throwing up, mild violence, multiple sex scenes, unprotected sex, oral (f and m), fingering, handjob, semi-public sex, spanking, creampies, mix of degradation and praise

a/n: thank you @frehyun for helping me come up with a name for hyunjin's band💕 also a thank you to @jehhskz @moonchild9350 and @hyunebunx for giving me suggestions, listening to me yap and being supportive while i was writing this🥹🩷🩷🩷 title is inspired by inji, go listen to her music🫶🏻

a little ramble: feel free to skip this! but i just wanted to say that this was supposed to be done sooner cause i had other fics planned out to write but work got in the way. so i wrote this fic whenever and wherever i could; hiding in the bathroom at work, during my break, at the bus station, at 3am when i couldn't sleep etc... it's been a ride and i'm proud of how it turned out, hopefully y'all enjoy it too🥹🫶🏻

“...And do you look into the mirror to remind yourself you’re there? Or have somebody’s goodnight kisses got that covered? When I’m not being honest, I pretend that you were just some lover…”

It was a perfect but short moment.

The fresh breeze coming into the car where the window was opened just a little was enough to give you some air but still managed to hide most of your face from the outside world. 

The music in your ears was loud, so loud that you were drowning in it, the warm and comforting voice, the melancholic guitar riff in the background, and the gentle sluggish drums putting it all together into a song that made your eyes water.

You tuned everything else out as this was the only moment of peace you were going to get today.

You needed every shred of sanity you could gather, and you were determined to hold onto it as much as you could.

Because today, you had an interview with him.

Hwang Hyunjin.

Oh, the name you know so well.

Even thinking about the way it sounds makes you feel angry.

It seemed as if his life mission was to find every single button of yours and push them repeatedly until you exploded like a ticking bomb.

Your mind wandered as you thought about him and how much his existence angered you, your stomach turning into knots.

Or maybe it was just pre-interview nerves.

No matter how many times you talked in front of the camera, it always made you feel anxious and jittery.

Being on stage was fun, there was no anxiety there as whenever you would step on it and see all the people cheering for you and singing along to the music you and your friends wrote, your heart felt full, your soul elated. 

It was an exhilarating feeling you couldn’t even begin to explain to someone who’d never experienced it.

Every concern in your head, every ache in your soul, every tear behind your eyelids threatening to spill got erased when you gave yourself to the stage.

If you could, you would definitely try to avoid the interviews and just perform.

But your record company had other plans.

Being the only up and rising all girls rock band in the company meant that you needed promotion, and what better way to promote than to collab with the only boy rock band in the same company?

Hwang Hyunjin’s band.

Yes, you couldn’t wait for this day to be over.

“Y/n!” you were shaken out of your thoughts, as your manager pulled at your headphones.

“What?” you almost snapped at her, startled by her antics.

“You were staring off into space and muttering angrily about Hyunjin. Something like ‘poke his eyes out’ and ‘conceited dick’.” Ana giggled, covering her lips with her hand as you rolled your eyes, realizing that you’ve already arrived at the building for the interview.

“I’m sure you find all this amusing. But I am not amused at all. Last time I had an interview with that... bastard, everyone thought we were dating and started shipping us.” you recoil at the thought. “I would never date someone like him.”

“Oh y/n, lighten up! You know there will always be rumors of all kinds. The dating rumors are the least harmful ones, trust me. Just act like you’re besties with Hyunjin, for an hour tops.”

You take a deep breath in, then sigh.

“I am a professional. I will do this right.” you nod with a determined tone as Ana bumped her fist with yours.

“That’s the spirit!” your manager smacked your thigh happily as you yelped, making her laugh before she exited the car.

Since you were in the underground parking lot, there was no press around so you walked out of the car freely, going directly to the elevator that would take you to the reception.

Ana pressed the button when you walked in and just as the doors started closing, someone’s combat boot was pushed between the silver doors, stopping them and making them open again.

Your eyes traveled up from the boots, to the tight leather pants and the skimpy tank top revealing a tattoo sleeve, right to the face you hoped you won’t be seeing for at least another ten minutes.

Hyunjin had an obnoxious smirk dancing on his lips as he looked down at you, puffing his chest out like some peacock showing off his feathers and you already wanted to smack the shit out of him.

His manager, Anthony waved at the two of you, ushering him into the elevator.

“Good morning y/n, Ana.” Anthony greeted as Hyunjin kept smirking at you.

“It was good until now.” you crossed your arms over your chest.

Even the cologne Hyunjin was wearing made you want to puke your guts out so you stepped away from him.

A chuckle escaped his lips as he leaned on the wall casually, never taking his eyes off of you.

“Aw, you throwing a tantrum already baby?” he smirked at you and you started fuming.

Both of your managers rolled their eyes, Ana muttering ‘here we go again’ as she shook her head.

“I see you have a new piercing on your face. You needed another hole to let the air out of that empty head?” you said, trying to sound nonchalant and Hyunjin scoffed.

“I’m gonna ignore that comment and focus on the fact that you’re counting my piercings. Observing me, huh?” he looked at you smugly.

“Yeah, cause I have nothing better to do than-”

Ding!

“Alright, break it off kids, were here!” Anthony said, quickly pulling Hyunjin out of the elevator.

“See? I can’t stand him.” you groaned as Ana chuckled.

“You stood up to him pretty well.” Ana winked. “Let's go get some coffee, get you properly awake before the interview.” she gripped your shoulders, shaking you a little as you groaned in protest.

Thankfully, Hyunjin had disappeared somewhere and you were glad he wasn’t around to annoy you, as you made small talk with a few of the staff you knew there since you’ve already been interviewed for the same channel before. 

“Ana, I’m gonna go get some air before we start.” you felt the nerves creeping up inside you.

“Okay, but you have to be back in five minutes.” she reminded you and you gave her a thumbs up, before practically sprinting down the hall to get to the little terrace hidden on the side.

Staff used it for smoke breaks, and you decided to use it to calm your anxiety down.

You flung the door open and stepped out onto the balcony, quickly taking a deep breath in while you looked down at the city before you.

“Needed to see me once more before the interview?” a voice rang out to the left of you.

Hyunjin’s voice.

Of course the bastard is here, you thought, your face becoming hot in annoyance.

“I had no idea you were here, asshole.” you turned to look at him.

He was leaning on the railing, flexing his muscles, a long vein protruding under the layer of the swirling colorful flowers inked into his skin, leading all the way to his long fingers with chipped nail polish and a cigarette pinched between his thumb and index finger.

He looked at you intently through his bangs that were haphazardly falling into his eyes, his teeth sinking into his bottom lip, before his tongue poked out to play with the piercing adorning it.

“I thought you had more originality when it comes to nicknames, darling.” he said mockingly before taking another drag from his cigarette.

“Don’t call me that.” you turned around to leave but Hyunjin’s long arm quickly blocked your way, his palm splayed on the wall.

You looked up at him and stepped back, just as he puffed the smoke out your way.

“You leaving?” he looked smug again, intrusive thoughts of pushing him off the balcony appeared in your mind.

“Yes, this space is too small and your cologne is nauseating.” your face scrunches up.

“Aw, I’ll make sure to find another one you’d like.” Hyunjin smirks.

“Don’t bother.” you ducked under his arm and opened the door, walking away as fast as you could.

At least he helped in a way, you weren’t anxious anymore, just annoyed and waiting for this day to be over. 

“Where is Hyunjin, we’re starting in a minute.” Anthony’s brows furrowed while you were ushered towards the room. 

“Last I saw him, he was smoking on the balcony.” you shrugged as they sat you down. 

The chair where Hyunjin would be sitting was too close for comfort and you wanted so badly to push it away, but you figured it was there because of the camera frame. 

“We’re on in 30 seconds!” one of the staff yelled and you rolled your eyes. 

Of course he was late, the self-centered bastard. You were sure he was enjoying this, everyone waiting on his highness to arrive, everyone panicking around him as he wears that disgusting smug smirk on his face.

“In 10…9…” the staff started counting down just as the door swung open and a breathless Hyunjin ran into the room, almost tripping over your crossed legs before he sat down on the chair next to you. 

After he ran in, one of the girls working there ran in too, quickly taking her place with rosy cheeks and her lipgloss smeared. 

You rolled your eyes and looked at him, the glitter from the girl’s lipgloss was visibly shining on his lips and chin. 

“You have a little something.” you said and he smirked, wiping his chin off before leaning towards you.

“My lips were dry.” he whispered with a wink.

You were more than ready to get this over with, seething with anger at his unprofessional behavior that you didn’t even notice the camera began rolling. 

“... today’s special guests are y/n of Venus Flytrap and Hyunjin of Lycoris Radiata! I hope y’all are as excited as I am, since it’s been so long. Y/n, let’s start with you. You have a new album coming out soon, can we get a little sneak peek of that?” the interviewer, Sarah, asked as you adjusted on your chair. 

“This is our third album now, and this time Steph and Janey participated in the writing more than before, so the songs are really personal to all three of us.”

“Are we finally gonna hear about their love story?” Sarah wiggled her eyebrows. 

“We may.” you smirked at her, not wanting to reveal too much.

“How about yours?” she added on, in the corner of your eye you saw Hyunjin leaning towards you as he stared at you, manspreading like always, his knee knocking into yours. 

“Huh?” 

“Your love story. Is there a special guy or girl in your life?” the interviewer asked, making you feel annoyed instantly. 

You hated being asked questions like that, sometimes it felt like the music you were writing didn’t even matter, all people wanted to know was who you’re fucking. 

“Not at the moment, no.” you forced a smile so you don’t seem rude.

“I thought I was special.” Hyunjin chimed in next to you, bumping his shoulder against yours, that shit eating grin you hate spreading on his face.

Before you could answer, Sarah butted in. 

“Oh, is there something happening between you that we should know about?”

You could just hear the excitement in her voice, the hunger for drama dripping from her lips. 

“Nothing is happening, we just like to joke around like that.” you quickly answered, hoping to deflect her to another question, or that she’d finally talk to Hyunjin and ask him about his new song, so you could take a few moments to breathe. 

“So, you two are close?”

Oh no. 

Here it goes again. 

Last time this happened, your name got dragged on every social media platform.

People who were shipping the two of you got on your nerves, but that wasn’t the biggest problem.

No, it was the people who had sent you hate and death threats, telling you if they saw you next to Hyunjin again you’d be dead. 

It took a toll on your mental health and scared you since you know people can easily find an address or stalk you somewhere and you wanted to avoid any rumors that would endanger your well-being. 

“We're just coworkers.” to your surprise Hyunjin answered nonchalantly, saying exactly what you wanted to say so people would leave you alone. 

Why was there a weird feeling in your chest then?

“Well, sometimes there’s passion at the workplace.” Sarah wasn’t giving it up and you were close to losing your temper and telling her to shove it already, ask some less invasive questions. 

“No passion here, our relationship is strictly professional.” you said, but your skin burned where Hyunjin’s thigh pressed against yours.

In your mind you were cursing both him and Sarah, and even your manager for bringing you here.

Thankfully, she left it at that, continuing with questions about your upcoming tour and Hyunjin’s new song. 

As soon as the interview finished and you were done shaking hands, Ana came to you, her hand on your shoulder as she squeezed. 

In the corner of your eye, you saw Hyunjin slip out of the room.

“Good job.” she smiled as Anthony joined the two of you. 

“I hope you’re hungry, y/n. This time it’s my treat, and there’s this restaurant…”

You tuned Anthony out, completely forgetting that after an interview like this, the tradition is to have dinner with Hyunjin and his manager. 

“Can we skip dinner this time? I just wanna go home and lay down.”

“Nonsense, I hear your stomach growling from here. Come on, it’s free food you can’t say no.” Anthony made a goofy face, hoping to win you over.

“Fine, you had me at free food.” you sighed as Ana nodded with a smile.

“Good! Now where is our other rockstar?” he quickly looked around. “I swear, sometimes I feel like I’m a babysitter, not a manager.”

“I’ll go find him.” you offered, wanting to leave the building as soon as possible.

“Sure.” Ana nodded and you made your way down the hall.

Your footsteps echoed in the empty space, until you came closer to a corner where the sounds of hushed voices and giggles filled up your ears and made you roll your eyes. 

“You know I can’t give you my number, baby. But if there is an empty room around here somewhere…” Hyunjin was talking to the girl from earlier, leaning over her body as she stared up at him like he was a god, her back against the wall.

You cleared your throat, crossing your arms on your chest. 

Both of them looked up at you, Hyunjin giving you a smirk as he straightened up and the girl glared at you but you didn’t give a shit. 

“We need to leave right now. Our managers are waiting for us.” you said simply as the girl whined. 

“Shh, maybe some other time.” he shushed her, leaning towards her and your stomach flipped in disgust. 

He didn’t kiss her, just taunted her before he leaned back and made his way towards you. 

“Cockblocker.” he stuck his tongue out, the piercing adorning it catching the light for a moment. 

“Do you even know her name?” you asked, keeping a fast pace and a good distance away from him.

“No. Does it matter?” he shrugged, his long legs quickly catching up to you in big strides.

“You’re despicable.” your face scrunched up in disgust as you neared the elevator where your managers were waiting and chatting. 

“Throwing some big words around. You sure you know the meaning?” he smirked.

“That’s it.” you said angrily.

“What? You just basically told me I deserve to be hated just cause I wanted to have some fun.” 

You looked at him, full on ready to slap him across his face but Ana stepped between the two of you. 

“Fighting again? Can the two of you behave for just one evening?” Anthony frowned with a sigh as he called the elevator. 

“I can behave.” Hyunjin clicked his tongue cheekily before playing with his lip ring again. 

“Y/n?” Ana looked at you. 

“As long as he doesn’t talk to me, I’ll be fine.” you turned away from Hyunjin, stepping into the elevator. 

This is going to be one awkward dinner. 

-

Choosing to disconnect in the van you put your earphones in, ignoring Hyunjin’s presence right next to you. 

It’s like your managers wanted to have you two as close as possible, like they thought it’d make you hate each other less but at this moment there was nothing more you wanted than to get away from him. 

Or maybe your managers wanted to be closer to each other, you smirked to yourself as Ana twirled her hair around her finger, giggling at something Anthony said. 

You leaned back as the music flooded your ears, your figure slightly turned towards the window as you watched the street lights pass you by, totally unaware of a pair of eyes that were glued to you.

Hyunjin observed you in detail, how shiny your hair was as it cascaded down your back and shoulders, how your brows were slightly creased and your lips pouty as you listened to your music, the steady rise and fall of your chest, the way your fingers played with the hem of your shirt as you pulled on it, how pretty the rings adorning your fingers were, how the necklace you always wore laid gently on your collarbone.

No little detail was skipped as he drinked it all in, thinking you wouldn’t notice. 

But after some time as it got even darker outside, you caught Hyunjin’s reflection in the window as he stared at you with a look on his face that you’ve never seen before. 

Your stomach suddenly swirled as the two of you made eye contact on the glass, Hyunjin’s plump lips falling open before he sat up and looked away, acting like nothing happened. 

The rest of the ride was uneventful and you were tired of this day, having to look at Hyunjin was more exhausting to you than being on stage.

You couldn’t wait to get into your bed and disappear. 

As you walked into the restaurant, you were led to a table and you could see a few people whispering and pointing at you but usually they didn’t bother you much. 

However, this time was different. 

As you scanned the menu, a girl timidly approached your table and you looked up at her as she stood next to Hyunjin. 

“I’m - I’m sorry to bother you but I’m a really big fan and I was wondering if you’d take a picture with me?” she asked Hyunjin who immediately smirked at her.

“No pictures allowed. But you can get his signature.” Anthony chimed in. 

“And who the fuck are you?” the girl changed her demeanor right away, making Hyunjin chuckle.

“Easy there, sweetheart, that’s my boss.” he wiggled his eyebrows at the girl. “Come on I’ll give you a sign and you can write me your number, maybe I’ll call you, hm?” Hyunjin winked at her and you just about lost your appetite completely.

“Oh, sure, I’d love that!” she let out a nasally laugh as he signed a napkin with a pen she somehow produced, giving it back to her as she leaned over to write her number down, making sure her tits were right in his face before she skipped back to her friends. 

“Can there be at least one minute when you’re not trying to fuck something that walks?” you looked at him annoyingly and he laughed.

“Thought you weren’t talking to me.” he smirked. 

“Ugh, you’re so annoying!” you were ready to smack him with the menu in your hand but Ana caught your wrist. 

“I bet you love that about me.” he kept smirking. 

“Love is nothing near what I feel about you.” you said, your teeth gritted.

“There’s a fine line between love and hate, you know.” Hyunjin smirked, leaning into your personal space. 

“Anyways, guys. What are you ordering? Their steak is really good.” Anthony gave an awkward smile as he looked around the table. 

“I want the tomato pasta.” Hyunjin leaned back, making you cackle.

“Isn’t that the kids menu? Makes sense for you somehow.” 

“I’m saving room for dessert.” he winked at you, his tongue running over his lip tentatively, the piercing on it catching the light again. 

“Ew.” you jolted in disgust as he laughed loudly, obviously finding enjoyment in ticking you off. 

The dinner part of the outing was uneventful as everyone ate and made small talk but you didn’t miss how Hyunjin crumpled up the napkin with the fan’s number and threw it aside on the table, not caring about it. 

What an asshole. 

“Let’s make a little toast to this evening and the upcoming albums and tour.” Ana proposed as she lifted her glass up. 

“To us.” Hyunjin smirked as he looked at you. 

“To rock’n’roll!” you added as the four of you clinked your glasses together before taking a big swig of your drinks.

Hyunjin didn’t look at you on the drive home. 

-

Rehearsal was supposed to start at 9am sharp, but you were there bright and early, tuning your guitar. 

Being an early bird, you loved the few moments of peace you could have to yourself, just you and your music. 

Your hand glided easily on the guitar’s neck, taking shapes familiar to your hands, it was muscle memory by now, your fingers picking on the strings and creating the melody you played countless times before. 

You let your voice ring out in the space freely as you sang a song dear to your heart, one you wrote when you were younger. 

You’d always start warming up by singing it to yourself, never having the need to actually put it out into the world. 

You got into it, your eyes closed as you sang with a small smile on your face, the entire world around you disappearing shortly. 

In the distance, you heard footsteps and voices belonging to your bandmates and just as you opened your eyes, you looked through the glass on the door, a shadow slithered across the wall outside, disappearing around the corner.  

You squinted your eyes and stood up, putting your guitar aside and coming closer to the door. 

Just as you were about to reach towards the doorknob, the voices got louder. 

“Are we seriously doing this right now?” Janey asked, the tone of her voice angry. 

“I’m telling you, it was nothing! I don’t know who she is and why she’s texting me!” Steph defended herself as Janey scoffed.

“I’m sick of your excuses. I’m gonna give you one last chance to make it up to me and be truthful, but after that I’m done.” you stepped back as Janey came into view, opening the door angrily.

“Oh, y/n.” she widened her eyes slightly. “Good morning.” she added, scurrying past you to take her place behind the drum kit. 

Steph walked in with a scowl on her face, muttering a ‘morning’ before going straight to her bass guitar. 

It wasn’t the first time they fought or even broke up.

There were many times you had to be the mediator between them, trying to get them to communicate and even though it was frustrating, you didn’t want them to give up on their relationship easily and you couldn’t really take sides since they were both your friends. 

“Shall we?” you asked and they nodded. 

It took some warming up as always but soon you got into the groove, rehearsing for a small performance that was happening tonight.

You were excited because during the performance you planned to reveal your new song and see how people like it in person. 

The only thorn in your eye was the fact that Hyunjin’s band will be there too, performing right after yours. 

You were dreading to see him again, since that interview last week you had managed to avoid him skilfully, but you couldn’t hide forever. 

And even though your rehearsal went somewhat smoothly, there was tension in the air and you didn’t like that feeling.

It felt like a storm was coming and you weren’t sure if you’re ready to take it on. 

-

Evening came around quickly, everyone was already gathered backstage and you were dressed and ready, having rehearsed once more on the stage, tuning your guitars and getting ready for the most fun part. 

You peered from the back, seeing all the people gathering made your heart swell, a smile spreading on your face automatically. 

“Quite a turn out, huh?” 

Your eye literally twitched when you heard Hyunjin’s voice behind you, too close for comfort as his figure loomed over you and you felt the warmth of his body on your back.

You turned your head slightly as he peered down at you with that annoying smirk you absolutely hate. 

“Of course.” you said, squeezing your body between him and the curtain, ignoring him calling after you as you walked away as fast as you could.

You’re not gonna let him ruin tonight for you. 

It was time to go on stage anyways.

You and your girls did a little cheer as tradition before the performance, Ana coming up to hug you and wish you good luck. 

“Break a leg.” Hyunjin appeared out of nowhere and you only rolled your eyes before whipping around and almost smacking him with your hair as you made your way towards the stage. 

As soon as you walked out, loud screams filled up your ears and everything negative was forgotten and locked away in a drawer in the back of your mind. 

“Are you ready to rock tonight?!” you screamed out into the mic as the three of you took your positions. 

Hyunjin watched you from the side with an unreadable look on his face, but you weren’t even aware of it and you didn’t care. 

All you cared about was this moment. 

The moment where you get to share your love for music with thousands of people. 

It was exhilarating, watching the mass of bodies sway like one, hearing all the people singing the lyrics you wrote in unison. 

Nothing could compare to this and every time you stood under that light, you knew you were born for this. 

Giddy from everything, you skipped backstage once you finished playing the last song; which happened to be the new one and people more than loved it judging by their excited screams. 

“That was amazing!” Ana met you halfway, giving high fives to all three of you.

You were still trying to catch your breath as you giggled, when Hyunjin appeared next to you again. 

“Aren’t you gonna wish me good luck?” he smirked at you, shamelessly giving you the elevator eyes. 

“Good luck guys!” Janey yelled at all four members with a smile and a thumbs up but Hyunjin shook his head. 

“I want her to say it or I’m not going out on stage.” he crossed his arms on his chest, pouting and tapping his foot like a child about to throw a tantrum. 

“Come on, Hyun, we need to get out there!” Aiden, the band’s bassist called out. 

“Not moving until y/n wishes me good luck.” he quickly shook his head, his fluffy hair shaking with it and you thought how he resembled a dog; in more ways than one. 

“Fine you spoiled brat. Good luck.” you said sarcastically and he scoffed. 

“That wasn’t so hard, was it?” he smirked, leaning into your personal space again. 

“Get on the stage, Hyunjin.” you sighed and he chuckled in delight. 

“Watch me closely.” he winked before running off. 

“I can just cut the tension in the air with a knife.” Steph smirked at you, wiggling her eyebrows. 

“Oh, fuck off!” you said, smacking the back of her head as she cackled. 

You did end up watching Hyunjin’s band perform after refreshing yourself, but pretty soon you’ve come to regret that decision. 

He was wild while performing, stripping out of his jacket as he screamed into the mic, sweating under the bright lights pointed directly at him making him look like an insane glazed donut as he strutted around the stage acting all smug even though he tripped over his dumb long legs multiple times. 

He’d lean over towards his little groupies, holding their hand or caressing their faces, blowing them kisses and whatnot, all of that behavior making your gut churn in disgust. 

The last straw was when he laid down on his back and started humping the air while moaning into the mic. 

Even though the crowd screamed louder than before and the horny fans almost started hyperventilating, you felt second hand embarrassment at witnessing this. 

Hyunjin continued moaning before he threw his head back, his eyes locking with yours. 

A shiver ran down your spine as he smirked at you, all sweaty, his hair sticking to his forehead, his piercings shining in the light, the veins on his neck visible and his cheeks red. 

A warmness spread in your navel as he winked, licking at his lip slowly, taunting you before he moaned extra loudly, the pornographic sound echoing in your ears. 

You frowned suddenly at your heart beating fast and your legs pressing together. 

What the fuck is wrong with me?, you thought, quickly shaking your head as he finally looked away from you and stood up. 

Of course, he got showered by multiple bras on stage, you think you even caught a glimpse of someone throwing their panties and you couldn’t watch anymore. 

It was truly disgusting. 

You quickly shoved past some staff members watching and gasping at whatever Hyunjin was doing now. 

Pushing past everyone, you made your way outside to get some fresh air in the hidden area behind backstage, where staff and musicians usually smoked or chilled after a performance. 

You greeted some of the staff before finding a spot where you could be alone. 

You were about to relax when you heard kissing sounds and as you turned to look around the corner you saw Steph kissing some random girl. 

You couldn’t contain the gasp that flew out of your mouth, making them jolt away from each other. 

Steph’s eyes widened when she saw you and you quickly spun around, noticing Janey had just walked outside too and started looking around. 

“Y/n, wait!” Steph yelled behind you. “It’s not what you think! Please, don’t tell Janey!” she looked at you desperately but you hated cheaters more than anything, seeing her betrayal with your own eyes broke any sort of connection you had with her. 

“Isn’t it? Your tongue was down some girl’s throat. Now, what do you call that?” you scoffed.

“What?” Janey appeared next to you, just as the girl who Steph was kissing before stood behind her. 

“It’s not like that, I-”

You could see Janey’s eyes filling up with tears. 

“That’s it, I’m done. With you and with the band. With everything.” you gasped when she said that, your eyes wide. 

“Janey, don’t be like that, it didn’t mean anything to me-” Steph started.

“Liar, you told me you’d leave her for me.” the girl behind Steph chimed in. 

“Oh, so this has been going on for some time?” Janey looked between Steph and the girl. 

“Let’s talk about this inside.” you tried to lead them in as people were whispering and looking at the four of you. 

“I have nothing else to say. I’m sorry, y/n. I can’t be a part of this band anymore when all it’s gonna do is remind me of this cheating whore.” Janey spat before turning around and leaving. 

“Okay, I deserve that but like I’m sorry that-”

“Save it, Steph. I can’t believe you did this. You put your desires over the well-being of our band. You do understand that your actions not only affect Janey, but also me, Ana and the rest of the record company?” you asked her, your blood boiling with anger. 

“I- I’m sorry, let me make it right. I’ll talk to Janey and she’ll forgive me once she understands-” 

“You think I want you to be part of the band after this? That’s rich.” you turned around too, in hopes of finding Janey. 

“Y/n, you can’t throw me out of the band!” Steph yelled behind you. 

“I just did.” you said coldly before opening the door and rushing into the backstage room. 

“Is Janey here?” you asked Ana and before she could answer, someone bumped into you rather strongly, making you stumble backwards a little.

You turned around angrily, noticing a very sweaty and breathless Hyunjin staring at you with a smile, his tongue lolling out of his lips as he played with his piercing. 

“So, did you like my performance?” he winked at you. “Did it get you excited?” the famous shit eating grin spread on his face as he leaned in closer to you, a few droplets of sweat dripping from his hair.

“I don’t have time for your games, Hyunjin. Please leave me alone.” you said annoyingly, noticing he had a bra hooked around his hand.

“What’s going on?” Ana asked, looking at you confusedly.

You were shaken up, the anger you felt manifesting into tears and you cursed yourself for being so emotional and quick to cry. 

“Woah, you’re crying!” Hyunjin stepped even closer to you but you’ve had enough of him. 

“Get away from me, asshole!” you channeled all your anger his way as you pressed your hands on his chest, pushing him away. 

Hyunjin stumbled with a gasp, a shocked look on his face. 

“What the hell is happening here?” Anthony quickly came to Hyunjin’s side as his bandmates watched everything unfold. 

“Ana, can we talk in private?” you glared once more at Hyunjin and she quickly nodded, hooking her arm with yours and taking you away from the scene. 

Hyunjin watched your figure disappear out of view with a deep frown on his face. 

-

It’s been a dreadful week.

You’ve tried talking to Janey multiple times, begging her to come back, promising to her that you wouldn’t let Steph come anywhere near her. 

Sadly, Janey was insistent on not wanting to continue with the band since lots of the songs were written by her and her now ex girlfriend who betrayed her in such an ugly way. 

You talked to Ana almost every day on the phone but you weren’t up for any visits, choosing instead to wallow in your sadness. 

Your band fell apart, your friends were no longer together, your album couldn’t be published and people were speculating, spreading rumors, you were getting numerous curious comments asking what happened to Venus Flytrap. 

You had no idea what to do at that moment. 

You just needed some time to yourself to figure out what your next step should be. 

You were lounging in your bed when your phone buzzed for the hundredth time.

Rolling your eyes, you grabbed it and saw that you had a text message from an unknown number. 

???: hey there pretty girl! don’t be so sad! there are worse things than your band falling apart. 

you: what, like death? and who is this? 

???: your favorite person in the whole world<3 

you: hyunjin?? 

???: aw i knew i was your favorite!

You started seething immediately as you sat up, your heart beating fast instantly as you worked yourself up into annoyance.

You quickly put his contact under ‘asshole’. 

you: no, i knew that a conceited answer like that can only come from an asshole like you.

you: now, what do you want?

asshole: did you save my contact as asshole? or dickhead? which one is it?

you: wouldn’t you like to know. seriously what the hell do you want. i’ll block you if you don’t get on with it

asshole: just wanted to see if you maybe want to talk to someone

you: if i did, i wouldn’t choose you. have a nice day away from me hyunjin

Hyunjin didn’t answer your last text, instead he left you on read and you tossed your phone across your bed, now feeling even more infuriated than before. 

You squinted your eyes, grabbing your phone again and texting Ana.

you: did you give my number to hyunjin??

Ana: i’m sorry! he wouldn’t stop bugging me about it! pls don’t be mad

Just great. 

Why is he insisting on annoying you even when you feel down in the dumps, you thought, he always has to come in and make you feel even more mad. 

You were hoping that with your last text he’d finally leave you alone.

You also hoped you wouldn’t be seeing him any time soon.

But boy, you couldn’t be more wrong.

-

“What?!” you yelled so loudly that it echoed off of the office walls.

“Y/n, please we don’t know any other solution. Lycoris Radiata is going to tour in 4 days and you’re the only person who knows their songs by heart. You can also kick ass with drums. And well, you’re kinda free now.” Anthony grimaced. 

“You can’t do this to me. I can’t spend so much time with Hwang Hyunjin!” you whined like a child, kicking your legs under the table as Ana gave you an apologetic look.

“Gossiping about me?” Hyunjin strolled in, with that annoying smirk, his hair in a little ponytail, showing more of his ear piercings and his sharp jawline. 

He took off his leather jacket, throwing it haphazardly on the chair before he plopped down into it. 

He spun around in the chair to face you as you looked at him with a scowl on your face.

Brendon, his guitarist and Aiden joined the meeting right after that.

“So, ready to be my new drummer?” Hyunjin wiggled his eyebrows at you.

“Not a chance in hell.” 

“Y/n, please, we have no other choice! Phil had to leave so suddenly due to his sickness. We couldn’t be prepared for something like that. We can’t afford to postpone the tour now.” Brendon pleaded as Aiden nodded next to him. 

You leaned back into the chair, pursing your lips as you gave it a thought.

Of course they’d choose you. 

You knew their songs by heart since you shared so many tours together but you had your own bus and mostly ran into Hyunjin either backstage or at an afterparty but if you would become a part of his band you’d spend most of your time with him. 

But this could be good for you to give yourself time to decide what you wanna do next while touring with Lycoris Radiata. 

And since you were a multi instrumentalist, playing the drums wouldn’t be a problem for you.

You smirked suddenly before tilting your head at Hyunjin. 

“Fine. I will tour with you under one condition.” you said. 

“Anything!” Anthony piped in but you kept staring at Hyunjin. 

“I want you to beg.” your smirk deepened and Hyunjin’s eyes widened slightly, his fingers twitching against his thighs. 

“What?” he blinked repeatedly and you chuckled under your breath. 

“Beg me to join your band or I’m not doing it.” 

Hyunjin’s lips opened and closed a few times before he frowned.

“I don’t beg. I demand.” he smirked, taunting you.

“Well, in case you haven’t noticed, you’re in no position to have demands. However, I am. So if I want you to beg, Hyunjin, you’re gonna beg.” you sat up straight as he looked at you in pure shock. 

“My, my darling. I didn’t know you were this commanding. I kinda dig that.” he wiggled his eyebrows. 

“Any day now.” you were ready to stand up and leave. 

The room was eerily silent and Brendon opened his lips to speak up but Anthony grabbed his wrist and quickly shook his head. 

You could see the gears turning in Hyunjin’s head as he stared at you, and slowly but surely his cheeks became red as he closed his eyes in frustration.

“Pretty please, join my band and come on tour with us?” he said, rather quickly and you tsked. 

“Not convincing enough.” you enjoyed having the upper hand, the roles reversed as you pushed Hyunjin’s buttons. 

“What do you want me to do?! Kneel at your feet?” he whined.

“Maybe.” you shrugged. 

“Unbelievable! I’m the one doing you a favor anyways.” Hyunjin said, clearly annoyed and you were reveling in it. 

You wanted him to get the taste of his own medicine.

“Is that so?” you raised your eyebrow as he breathed hard. 

“Yes, your band is as good as dead right now, just like your career.” he said with a smug smirk, making everyone gasp. 

“Hyunjin!” Aiden scolded him and you stood up, feeling your eyes water as you lifted your hand, your palm colliding with Hyunjin’s cheek. 

The force of your slap turned his head right and he grabbed at his cheek immediately, his eyes wide, his face becoming red quickly.

“Fuck you!” you said angrily before turning around and leaving the room as tears started sliding down your cheeks. 

“Now look at what you did!” Anthony was mad and Hyunjin shrugged with a frown, realizing quickly that maybe he did cross a line.

“How could you say something like that to y/n?” Brendon asked, and Hyunjin looked at them, feeling dejected suddenly as he rubbed at his cheek. 

There was strength in your hands, that he was sure of. 

“I fucked up, okay! I didn’t mean to say that.” he shook his head. “I will make this right.” Hyunjin added, standing up. 

“Dude, I think you’re the last person y/n wants to see right now.” Aiden said. 

“But I have to apologize to her.” Hyunjin chewed on his lip, playing with his piercing as a nervous habit.

“I’ll go with you then.” Aiden nodded, standing up as well. 

“Fine.” Hyunjin sighed. 

You sat in the swinging chair on one of the many balconies of the building, letting your tears slip down your cheeks as the wind picked up, making you shiver. 

Hyunjin and Aiden found you pretty quickly and before Aiden could follow him to the balcony, Hyunjin smacked his hand on Aiden’s chest. 

“Please, just wait here.” 

“Fine, but if you provoke her again, I’m coming in.” Aiden sighed, shaking his head. 

The door of the balcony opened and in the corner of your eye you saw Hyunjin’s combat boots and his leather pants. 

“Go away.” you said quietly, sniffling and turning away from him.

Hyunjin stood frozen for a moment, holding his jacket in his hand and you took that time to quickly wipe away your tears. 

You didn’t want to look weak in front of your enemy. 

Footsteps approached and suddenly you felt a weight on your shoulders and back. 

You looked down, realizing that Hyunjin had put his jacket around you and it smelled like cigarettes mixed with cologne he always wears and something distinctly him. 

You took a deep breath and for some reason, calmness settled all over your body. 

“I’m really sorry for what I said back there. It was way out of line.”

You didn’t say anything, still refusing to look at him. 

“And I’m sorry about your band. I know that must be hard to go through. I feel bad that my drummer had to leave, I don’t know how I’d feel if-”

“Are you done?” you turned to look at him and his lips pressed together. 

“I don’t care how you feel, Hyunjin. Just like you didn’t care about hurting me moments ago.” you stood up, ready to throw his jacket away. 

“Well, I apologized!” he threw his hands up, rolling his eyes. “Though, I’m glad I have that effect on you, I didn’t know you cared so much about what I think or say.” he smirked suddenly. 

You were tempted to slap his other cheek at that moment, and Aiden must’ve sensed it so he walked out to the balcony. 

“Are we okay?” he asked, gulping. 

“Not until he apologizes properly.” you crossed your arms with a smirk, and he knew exactly what you meant.

“Ugh! This is the first and last time I get on my knees for you.” Hyunjin said annoyingly as he kneeled down and you chuckled in delight. 

“I’m sorry for being an asshole and if you could find it in your heart to forgive me, I’d be honored for you to join my band.” he batted his eyelashes at you. 

“Mm…” you pursed your lips, acting like you were contemplating it as he rolled his eyes again. 

“Fine. I accept.” you shrugged and Hyunjin stood up quickly with a smile.

“Welcome to the band, sweetheart!” he smirked, opening his arms for a hug and you quickly dodged under his arm and slithered away. 

“You’re welcome.” you smirked back, grabbing his jacket and throwing it at him.

He caught it just as you walked back into the hallway, grinning to himself as you walked away. 

“She wants me so bad.” Hyunjin said as Aiden’s eyebrows lifted comically. 

“I think she wants to kill you.” he said and Hyunjin chuckled, smacking Aiden’s shoulder and grabbing him. 

“I know what chicks like, okay?” 

“You also know that y/n isn’t one of your little groupies?” Aiden sighed.

“I know, don’t worry. She’s special.” Hyunjin smiled, hugging his jacket to his chest, getting a whiff of your perfume that stayed on it.

Aiden shook his head with a chuckle. 

This is gonna be one hell of a tour. 

-

The party was in full swing. 

That morning you had packed for the tour, your stomach swirling with nerves so much that you thought you’d throw up. 

You were actually going on tour with Lycoris Radiata, for at least six months. 

A lot can happen in that amount of time and while you were nervous to spend so much time with the infuriating and annoying asshole aka Hwang Hyunjin, you were also excited for the new experience and the places you’ll get to see.

Of course, you couldn’t leave without attending a ‘have an amazing tour’ party that was mostly exclusive only for staff and a few other people. 

You were on your second glass of beer as you sat at the bar, the cold bitter liquid not calming you down as it should. 

Hyunjin was having a jolly old time, entertaining some girls of course and if you had rolled your eyes any harder, they’d get stuck in the back of your head. 

“Don’t take that to heart.” Aiden suddenly appeared next to you.

“What?” you chuckled awkwardly, shaking away your thoughts.

“Hyunjin flirting like that. He’s a lot of talk, more than anything else.”

“Why would I care if he flirts with some random girls?” you frowned. “It’s none of my business.”

“Right.” Aiden pursed his lips. “Well, I’m gonna go find Anthony.”

“Sure.” you shrugged, your eyes flying back to Hyunjin and the girls who were salivating all over him. 

He was showing them his biceps and they were touching him like they’ve never seen a human arm in their life. 

You scoffed, shaking your head when a voice behind you startled you. 

“Now, why is a pretty lady such as yourself sitting all alone?” 

You turned around with your eyebrow lifted, coming face to face with a stranger. 

“Because it’s her choice.” you answered.

“Oh, feisty and pretty? That’s a fun combo.” the guy smirked, his arm leaning on your chair, almost hugging your waist as he got closer to you. 

Your nose scrunched up, he smelled of alcohol and you really wanted him to leave you alone. 

“I’m pretty boring, trust me.” you said.

“Oh, I don’t believe that. In fact, I think if you were to let me take you home tonight, you and I could have so much fun.” he smirked and you were pretty sure you barfed in your mouth a little.

“No, thank you.” you said sarcastically. 

He chuckled, placing his arms around you.

You were completely unaware of Hyunjin who was keeping an eye on you and the suspicious guy. 

As soon as the man placed his hands on you, Hyunjin pushed the girl he was talking to aside, his heavy combat boots taking him right to you and the disturbance in your personal space.

“I don’t really take no for an answer.” he said and your heart sank momentarily. 

“Back off man!” you tried to push him away but he wasn’t budging.

Suddenly the guy was ripped away from you with such force that it pulled you to your feet.

You grabbed at the bar to steady yourself and gasped just in time to see Hyunjin swinging his fist at the man. 

“Oh my god!” you almost screamed, your eyes wide as the guy fell to the floor instantly. 

People quickly gathered around and Anthony was trying to push them away so he could grab Hyunjin. 

“The lady said no, you fucking dirtbag!” Hyunjin said, swinging at the man again. 

“Oh my god, Hyunjin! Stop, it’s okay, please!” you panicked, never seeing him this angry or violent. 

“Hwang! Enough!” Anthony yelled, grabbing Hyunjin’s arms and lifting him up as he fought against his manager, still trying to punch the man who was now laying on the floor with his face completely bloody. 

You kept looking at Hyunjin with a shocked expression as he breathed hard, his face red and sweaty from anger, the veins on his neck and forehead popping out.

“I stopped, now let me go.” he said through his teeth as someone lifted up the unconscious guy.

“Hyunjin, if this gets out to the press it could turn into a fucking shitstorm! What the hell is wrong with you?!” Anthony yelled angrily as Hyunjin stood with his fists still clenched. 

“He made y/n uncomfortable and he deserved it.” Hyunjin answered before turning towards you. 

“Are you okay?” he asked, his eyes softening as you stared at him in disbelief.

“I-I’m fine.”

“Good. I’m done with this party.” Hyunjin said, turning on his heel and grabbing his jacket before he walked out, leaving you standing there still trying to process what the hell just happened.

-

You were half asleep when Ana drove you to the tour bus. 

You barely slept last night, tossing and turning in your bed as the images of Hyunjin punching that guy from the party kept swimming in your head. 

Never has a man defended you like that and you’ve never seen Hyunjin look so livid before. 

He was usually either smirking, laughing or being a menace, ready to always annoy you but you’ve never seen him actually angry.

It was kind of… hot, you thought before shaking it off.

You wondered why he reacted like that.

“You okay?” Ana snapped you out of your vegetative state as you sank in the passenger seat, arms crossed and hood over your head. 

“Hm? Yeah, just sleepy.” you sat up and looked around. 

The sun wasn’t even up yet. 

“You can continue sleeping on the tour bus. We’re here.” she chuckled. 

“Oh, goody.” you sighed before opening the door and walking out.

“Morning, ladies.” Anthony all but ran up to Ana, helping her with yours and her bags since she’d be joining you too. 

“Morning? It’s still night.” you checked your phone, seeing it was 4:13am. 

“Not where I come from. You see-” Anthony started.

“Okay, I’m too asleep to listen to this.” you shook your head before strolling towards the bus. 

You were about to just climb in and go straight to the nearest bed you could find but you heard some quiet music coming from behind the back of the bus. 

You approached slowly and peeked around to see Hyunjin leaning on the wall, smoking and listening to some quiet music. 

He looked up instantly, seeming like a deer caught in headlights for a short moment. 

“Remembered to put on a jacket?” he smirked. 

“Ha ha. Very funny.” you said and he shrugged, looking away and turning the music off. 

As he brought his cigarette to his lips, you noticed his knuckles were red and injured. 

“I guess I should thank you for last night.” you said quietly, swinging on your feet awkwardly as you dug your hands in your pockets. 

“It was nothing.” he shook his head quickly. 

“I wouldn’t call that nothing.” you motioned to his hand. 

“This?” he looked at his hand and chuckled. “You should see the other guy.” he winked at you, making you roll your eyes. 

“Clever.” 

“Come to think of it, it does hurt a bit. Wanna kiss it better?” Hyunjin smirked, puffing the smoke out. 

“Bite me.” you gave him the middle finger as he laughed, the sound ringing out in the quiet early hours.

“I might. If you ask nicely.” he said with that smug expression of his.

“I’m going inside.” you shivered, realizing how cold it actually was, ignoring his witty quips. 

“I’m right behind ya.” he threw his cigarette on the floor before stepping on it. 

Your heart started beating fast out of nowhere as his heavy boots stomped behind you, the sound escorting you to the entrance of the bus. 

“Oh wow.” your eyes widened as you looked around the living/kitchen area. 

“You like?” Hyunjin leaned over your shoulder and you jolted away from him, making him snicker. 

“Yeah, it’s… not what I expected. It looks more cozy than I thought it would.” you nodded.

“You should thank the interior designer.” he wiggled his eyebrows.

“And who might that be?” you asked, making your way to the bunk bed area. 

“Oh, just a guy. He takes payment in kisses.” Hyunjin bumped into you as you stopped. 

“Is that guy maybe you?” you turned around, not realizing immediately just how close Hyunjin was to you. 

“Maybe it is.” he leaned towards you with a smirk and you squealed a little, stepping away from him.

“Give it up. I’m taking the top bunk bed.” you pointed to the left side. 

“Not fair! I always take that one!” Hyunjin pouted.

“Tough luck, I called it first.” you smirked, taking off your jacket and throwing it up on the bed. 

“Or… we can both sleep up there?” Hyunjin said and you scoffed, pushing him away. 

“Like hell!” 

“Are y’all fighting this early?” Brendon came in, looking confused and disheveled. 

“No, it’s foreplay.” Hyunjin wiggled his eyebrows and you made gagging noises. 

“Here’s your bag, y/n.” Ana appeared with your luggage. 

Aiden and Anthony came in after and everyone took some time to unpack and get settled. 

“I heard we have two pretty ladies with us, so you fellas gotta behave now.” you heard an unknown voice and leaned over to see who it belonged to.

“Oh, we always behave, Stu.” Hyunjin smirked. 

“Yes, especially you.” the man, Stu, rolled his eyes. 

“This is our main driver Stu.” Aiden introduced you and Ana to him. 

“Pleasure to meet you ladies. Hopefully the road won’t be too bumpy.” he winked before turning around and leaving. 

“Where is Bradley?” Anthony piped in suddenly.

“Who’s Bradley?” you asked, at this moment you just wanted to get everything over with and catch up on some sleep.

“Our sound guy.” Brendon answered. “And lights guy. He is underpaid and overworked, basically.” he added, giving Anthony a pointed look. 

“Hey, it’s not my fault Mike quit!” he lifted his hands up. “Besides, we’re picking someone up in the next town over. He’ll be our roadie along with Bradley.” 

As they started discussing, you slipped away to the bathroom, where you could change in peace and get ready for bed. 

You leaned on the counter, staring at yourself in the mirror as you listened to the muffled voices talking. 

Were you doing the right thing? 

Accepting to join another band when your heart still hurts from the sudden falling apart between your friends and band members… 

“Y/n, I need the bathroom!” Hyunjin’s voice brought you back to reality and you stood up straight. 

“I’m not done yet!” you yelled back. “You have another bathroom!” you added annoyingly, preparing to brush your teeth. 

“Aiden hogged it. Are you naked or something? Cause I swear I don’t mind.” 

You could just hear the smirk in his voice. 

Rolling your eyes, you opened the door and Hyunjin gave you the elevator eyes and they lingered on your legs in the shorts you put on, going up to your chest and lingering again before he looked up at your face. 

He was playing with his lip ring again, his cheeks rosy. 

“What do you want?” you spat.

“Just wanna brush my teeth.” he looked at you smugly. 

You didn’t say anything, just stepped aside and continued brushing your teeth. 

You opted to leave the door opened since it felt awkward to have them closed. 

“Isn’t this fun, us brushing our teeth together? It’s kinda domestic, don’t you think?” Hyunjin said suddenly, the familiar smirk on his face. 

“Yes, thrilling.” you answered sarcastically. “You don’t have to act nice, Hyunjin. Everyone knows we hate each other so let’s just not talk too much and try to coexist peacefully for the sake of everyone else on this tour.”

Hyunjin opened his mouth to answer but you quickly turned around and left, not wanting to get into it with him when you were tired and nervous. 

He smirked to himself, shaking his head. 

The only thing stuck in his brain at that moment was the way you said his name. 

God, he loved it. 

-

You slept for a few hours only, waking up early yet again as the bus rolled to a stop at a diner. 

“Rise and shine, princess.” Hyunjin’s head popped up in front of you as he held onto your bed.

“Fuck off.” you grabbed your pillow and smacked him with it, almost making him fall down but he managed to land on his feet. 

You heard a smack and Hyunjin saying ‘ow’ quietly before Aiden said,

“Come down if you’re hungry.” 

You chuckled to yourself, waiting for them to leave so you could get ready.

Of course, as soon as you sat down in a booth, Hyunjin pushed Brendon aside and quickly slid next to you. 

“Oh my god.” you rolled your eyes. 

You were squished between him and Ana on your other side, and he was too close for comfort. 

You could feel the heat of his body and smell the scent of his shampoo and body wash mixed with cigarettes. 

You tried to ignore the feelings stirring in your gut as you ordered.

“So, how did you like sleeping on top of me?” Hyunjin smirked, tilting his head. 

“Not as much as you liked sleeping under me, weirdo.” you scoffed at him and he chuckled.

“I liked it very much, so that must mean you liked it at least a little.” he said as the food arrived and your stomach growled. 

“Whatever you say.” you brushed him off and started to dig in. 

“We’re close to our first destination.” Anthony started after a sip of coffee. “We will arrive around 4pm and have lunch, then we get ready and do the soundcheck. Questions?”

Everyone shook their heads no. 

You suddenly felt nervous tingles running up your spine, and for some reason Hyunjin felt it. 

“Don’t worry princess, you’ll do great.” he smirked, placing his hand on top of your wrist. 

You snatched your hand away and looked at him. 

“I know I will, I was just wondering if you’ll be able to keep up with me.” you smirked back at him. 

“You’ll be surprised at how well I can keep up, baby.” Hyunjin leaned into your personal space, his eyes boring into yours and you felt your cheeks burning.

“Be nice, you two.” Ana chuckled.

“What? I haven't called him an asshole yet. Emphasis on yet.” 

Hyunjin laughed next to you, his arm brushing against yours.

Oh, he is so going to enjoy this.

-

It was such a good, familiar feeling to sit behind a drum kit after being the main vocalist and guitarist of your band for so long. 

The venue was empty at this moment and the sound of the drums echoing in the space was grand. 

You closed your eyes and started playing a groove to get into the mood and Hyunjin was lured towards the stage instantly. 

He watched you in awe even though he saw you play the drums before, they never had the name of his band on the front of them. 

Hyunjin felt proud; that his band has come so far and honored that you were now a part of their story. 

He hoped you’d enjoy the tour and judging by the blissful look on your face, you were off to a good start. 

“Let’s go, Hyun.” Brendon smacked his shoulder, pulling him back to reality. 

It was time for the soundcheck, and when everyone was finally on stage, tuning their instruments, you realized that this is real. 

Excitement replaced any nerves you had and you were ready to tear the stage apart. 

“Let’s jam a little.” Aiden smiled as everyone agreed.

He started to play a melody on his bass so you followed him with the drums.

You were so focused on grooving that you didn’t notice Hyunjin winking at his two other band members.

When it was time for him to start playing his guitar, Hyunjin decided to play totally out of tune. 

You looked up at him with your brows furrowed as you tried to follow him.

He changed it up suddenly, that familiar shit eating grin spreading on his face as you followed him yet again. 

Brendon and Aiden stopped playing as they observed the two of you, battling it out with your instruments. 

Hyunjin was trying hard to get on your nerves, push your buttons but you weren’t gonna let him in. 

“Having some trouble following, princess?” he yelled over the noise. 

You looked at him pointedly as he started to play another melody that made no sense and you’ve had enough. 

Hyunjin had a way of getting under your skin and he obviously knew that. 

Your arm lifted up on its own accord and you swung one of your drumsticks right at Hyunjin, aiming for his empty head. 

His eyes widened and he managed to dodge it in a close second as the drumstick clattered on the floor. 

“Ha! Attempted murder! Y’all saw that!” he pointed at you, while looking at his friends and you started laughing. 

“Don’t worry, even if it did hit your head, it couldn’t damage it more than it already is.” you smirked as Hyunjin huffed. 

“Oh baby, keep talking. Degradation is my thing.” he motioned towards his ear with his fingers and you made a disgusted face at him. 

Of course, the asshole laughed at your expression. 

“Guys, can we actually practice?” Brendon chimed in as Aiden nodded. 

Instead of answering verbally, you started playing so everyone joined in. 

-

“Are you nervous?” Aiden asked as the venue filled up and it all became real.

“Nope, I’m ecstatic!” you answered, twirling your drumstick in your hand. 

“Trying to murder me once again?” Hyunjin appeared next to you as you almost hit him with it.

“Trust me, if I was trying to kill you, you’d already be dead.” 

“Nobody’s killing anyone, we’re already short on staff.” Anthony smirked before putting his arms around Hyunjin and Brendon’s shoulders. 

“Good luck guys! And y/n, of course. I know y’all will do great.” Anthony smiled. 

Ana came up to you to hug you. 

“Good luck, babe!” she smiled. 

“Thank you.” you gave her a bone crushing hug, she was always like a sister to you and having her here now meant a lot to you. 

As soon as you walked out on stage, the screams of all the people that came to see you perform were deafening but heartwarming. 

Hyunjin was the main character on stage, that you were convinced of as whatever he did resulted in even louder screaming. 

You didn’t mind being the backbone of the band, playing drums to you was a meditative and transcending experience and anything you were angry or upset about, you could take it out while playing. 

Performing with Lycoris Radiata was fun as fuck, even more than you hoped for; seeing Hyunjin up close made you realize just why people loved him so much. 

He was charismatic, cool and lame at the same time, ethereally beautiful and down to earth, fun but sensitive, alluring but cute, he gave his all and more. 

He was everything wrapped up in one and you wondered how that was possible. 

A particular moment struck you; when you were playing a slower song, Hyunjin sang so delicately, his back turned to you as the lights beamed down on his frame, his sweaty hair and skin making him look like he was glowing. 

Your heart skipped a beat but you ignored it. 

Near the end of the show, Hyunjin did his usual routine which consisted of making everyone’s panties wet; it was time for the sex song he always sang near the end which made you feel embarrassed and uncomfortable but something about being on stage with them got you in the right mood for it.

The part came up; and Hyunjin was on the floor, moaning and humping the air as you followed his moans with the heavy sound of your drums. 

Hyunjin smirked, throwing his head back to look at you as he continued his ministrations and you continued following him on the drums. 

Aiden and Brendon joined in as Hyunjin became louder, resulting in you hitting the drums harder as the sounds all came together in a crescendo. 

You wished that you could press your thighs together to create pressure and friction because the whole thing managed to get you wet too. 

A part of you felt ashamed but you didn’t give a flying fuck in that moment, completely letting go of everything as the four of you continued jamming together. 

Hyunjin stood up with the biggest smile on his face, winking at you as he ran a lap around the stage before literally diving into the audience. 

You gasped to yourself but continued playing the outro to the performance while Hyunjin was being groped by horny fanboys and fangirls. 

Security was there to pull him back up on stage safely and Hyunjin sang the end of the song before screaming a ‘thank you’ into the mic. 

After all four of you bowed a hundred times, you finally ran backstage where a very sweaty Hyunjin started hugging everyone, eventually coming up to you. 

“Don’t even think about it.” you said as he opened his arms. 

“Not thinking, just doing it.” he smirked and before you could run away, his arms wrapped around you and he pulled you into his body. 

“Ew!” you squirmed against him and he chuckled. 

“Don’t pretend you don’t like it.” he held you tighter and your heart leaped out of your chest. 

The bastard smelled so good even after sweating so much and it annoyed you how seemingly perfect he was. 

“What, a gross sweaty man slobbering all over me?” you scrunched up your face as you finally pushed him away.

“I wasn’t slobbering but if you’re into that-”

“Please shut up while I’m still in a good mood.” you stopped him and he laughed. 

“It’s so fun messing with you, darling.” Hyunjin ruffled your hair as you practically hissed at him, making him laugh again. 

“You guys were fucking amazing!” Anthony yelled excitedly. 

“I don’t know about you but I need some food.” Aiden piped in. 

“I’m feeling thirsty, honestly.” Brendon added.

“Are we partying or what?” Hyunjin smirked, wiggling his eyebrows. 

“Hell yeah, we are!” Anthony high-fived him. 

You ended up having the afterparty in the bus, ordering some food and acquiring some beer as you sat around in the living space. 

Of course, as soon as you walked in, you ran for the shower, with Hyunjin cascading behind you and asking if he could join you because “it’ll be done faster”. 

“Dream about it, asshole!” you yelled before closing the bathroom door. 

“Oh, I do.” Hyunjin smirked to himself, but you didn’t hear him. 

The excitement of the performance slowly washed away from your body along with Hyunjin’s scent that lingered after he hugged you, and you felt happy and cozy. 

All of you finally settled down to eat and Hyunjin claimed the spot next to you, of course, his long slender fingers stealing your fries constantly.

“Will you back off! You have your own fries.” you slapped his arm as he whined. 

“Yours are tastier.” he claimed with that familiar smirk of his.

“Are they now?” you smirked back. 

“Mhm.” he nodded pointedly.

“Let’s see then.” you grabbed your box and dumped all your fries into his box before mixing them up. “Pick one up and distinguish if it’s from your box or mine.”

Hyunjin stared at you with his lips parted before he smiled. 

“Aw, we’re sharing.” he said and continued eating as you heard some chuckles around the table. 

“For fucks sake.” you muttered, shaking your head.

The rest of the night was full of chatter and laughter, and you didn’t mind Hyunjin’s arm or leg brushing against you ever so often, or his loud laughter ringing in your ears or him constantly poking at you. 

It’s barely been one day on tour and he wasn’t as unbearable as you thought he’d be. 

Everyone was tired and you had to hit the road so it was finally peaceful, before a loud scream startled everyone.

“Oh no, I am going to die!” Hyunjin wailed dramatically.

“What’s wrong with him?” you rolled your eyes as Aiden came in. 

“He lost his teddy bear.” 

“He what?” you chuckled in disbelief.

“Hyunjin’s teddy, he always takes it with him. He’s had it since he was a baby and he’s convinced it brings him luck.” Aiden shrugged and Hyunjin ran into the living area.

“We are doomed!” he said, grabbing your arms and shaking you. 

“Calm down, it must be around here somewhere.” you sighed.

“Help me look?” Hyunjin batted his eyelashes at you as Aiden slipped away.

“Hyunjin, I’m tired, I need to get some sleep.” you whined. 

“Me too! But I can’t sleep without my teddy.” he said, you couldn’t believe he was serious. “I will crawl up to your bunk and annoy you all night if you don’t help me look.” he added, smirking.

“Fine, I’ll help you.” you rolled your eyes.

“Wow, you don’t want me in your bed at all?” he kept smirking. 

“Zip it. Let’s find your precious teddy.”

“Yes!” Hyunjin scurried after you as the two of you basically did a search and rescue mission for his favorite plush. 

Eventually, you walked into the other bathroom, finding the old teddy sitting on the counter.

“There you are.” you picked up, chuckling at the state of it. 

You couldn’t help it as you sniffed the teddy and sure enough it smelled just like its owner. 

“Found it!” you yelled and Hyunjin bursted in, panting and smiling. 

“Oh my god!” he exclaimed, grabbing the teddy and then you as he enveloped you in a hug for the second time that night. 

“Thank you, thank you, thank you!” Hyunjin held you tightly and you chuckled. 

“Alright, you’re thankful, I get it. You can let go now.” you said, patting his back. 

“I owe you.” he muttered.

“I really didn’t do anything.�� 

“You did, trust me.” he smiled. 

As you laid in your bunk bed that night, you couldn’t stop thinking about Hyunjin. 

He seemed somehow different or you were just now seeing different sides of him that you didn’t see before. 

You didn’t hate him completely. 

-

Ten days on tour and things were going great. 

Every show was better than the last one, every venue bigger than the last one, every note played made Lycoris Radiata mean more and more to you. 

Tonight was no exception as you ripped the stage once again, this time Hyunjin ended up lifting Aiden and spinning him at the end which almost made the poor man throw up from excitement. 

“This was Lycoris Radiata, see you next time!” and with that you ran backstage where Hyunjin had to hug everyone, even asking for a group hug. 

You had to humor him. 

When your head finally hit the pillow, you couldn’t sleep even though you were exhausted. 

You kept replaying one particular moment from the show in your head. 

It was while Hyunjin was singing his famous sex song, before the moaning part, he came up to you and sang while looking at you. 

You kept playing and looking at him intently as he sang the lewd lyrics right into your face. 

Before he took off, Hyunjin lifted his hand, making a V shape with his fingers, doing the licking motion between them, his tongue piercing shining in the big stage light. 

Your mouth fell agape for a moment as you felt hotness spread all over your body and he smirked smugly when you made a tiny mistake in your playing. 

People didn’t notice but he did. 

And he was satisfied with it. 

You couldn’t stop thinking about it, and it had been a while since you’ve had a little ‘you time’ but it was hard to do that with so many people in the bus. 

Your eyes fluttered closed and you sighed, hearing some shuffling beneath you. 

“Y/n?” Hyunjin suddenly climbed up into your bed, startling you as you sat up and turned on the little light inside. 

“W-what are you doing?” 

“I can’t sleep. And I figured you weren’t sleeping either.” Hyunjin whispered.

“And how did you figure that?” you clutched your blanket. 

“You sighed like a hundred times.” he chuckled quietly.

“What do you want?” you rolled your eyes with a smile. 

“To hang out.” he pulled out a deck of cards out of nowhere. 

“We can’t make too much noise, we’ll wake everyone up.” you shook your head. 

“Fine then we’ll do something quiet.” Hyunjin smirked, tossing the cards aside and laying down next to you, his eyes closing.

“Turn the light off, sweetheart.” he cracked one eye open as you stared at him in disbelief. 

“You are not sleeping in my bunk. Go back downstairs.” you whispered.

“No.” he answered simply. 

“Hyunjin, I’m warning you, I will push you down.”

“Will you? You’ll wake up the whole bus.” he smirked. 

“God, you’re so annoying!” you whisper-yelled, giving up as you laid down, turning away from Hyunjin. 

“Be nice and share your blanket.” Hyunjin’s breath hit the back of your neck, making you shiver as goosebumps rose on your skin. 

“Need anything else?” you muttered as he hogged your blanket and your personal space. 

“A goodnight kiss?” Hyunjin leaned over you, peering at your face hopefully.

You gave him the side eye and he chuckled. 

“Maybe some other time, hm?” he asked. 

“Go to sleep.” you said and he laid down behind you. 

“Goodnight, darling.” Hyunjin wanted to reach out and touch your hair but he figured you’d probably break his arm. 

You didn’t answer, your heart beating so hard that you were afraid it was shaking the bed and Hyunjin could feel it. 

You quickly turned off the light and tried to calm down.

There was enough space to where he wasn’t touching you but you felt his warmth, his scent, his breath on your skin.

It was driving you crazy and making you feel calm at the same time. 

You managed to fall asleep somehow.

-

At some point, in the middle of the night, Hyunjin and you gravitated closer to each other and you ended up in his arms. 

When you slowly blinked your eyes open and realized you were staring straight at Hyunjin’s chest, you jolted away from him, making him groan quietly. 

“Where you goin’?” he mumbled into your pillow, trying to grab you.

“As far as I can from you.” you said, wiggling out of his arm that eventually caught you as he groaned again.

“Something’s poking my ass.” Hyunjin gasped when he rolled over and you laughed. 

“It’s the cards, you idiot.” rolling your eyes, you left the bunk feeling embarrassed and insane as your face heated up. 

What are you doing, sleeping in the same bed as Hyunjin?

You hate him, right?

You weren’t so sure anymore. 

Yes, he was annoying but somehow that became kind of endearing. 

He has bugged you every single day since the tour started and if he suddenly stopped, it’d feel weird. 

You sighed, shaking off your thoughts as you grabbed your phone, munching on your breakfast. 

“Morning, y/n. Tell me am I crazy or did Hyunjin sleep over in your bunk?” Ana smirked at you as she brought two coffees. 

“You are crazy. But yes, he slept in my bunk.” you said. 

“Interesting.” she smirked, lifting one eyebrow up. 

“Hey, I saw you sleeping in Anthony’s bunk multiple times. What’s that about?” you teased as you opened up your insta. 

“Well, everyone knows we have a thing for each other. You and Hyunjin though… oh yeah, you have a thing too.” 

“We don’t have a thing.” you quickly said as Ana chuckled. 

“Right. Mhm.” 

You continued scrolling, and that’s when you noticed it; the hate comments on your posts. 

‘She’s just a slut who’s after Hyunjin’

‘She’s delusional if she thinks he’d like her like she’s ugly lmao’

‘Untalented bitch’

‘Get her away from my Hyunjin’

‘She deserved her band falling apart they were shit anyways’

‘Y/n should retire from the music scene’

Your eyes started stinging with tears as you skimmed through the comment section. 

“What’s wrong?” Ana tilted her head to look at you. 

You slid your phone to her and she gasped. 

“You know these people are probably some jealous, unsuccessful suckers.” she said. 

“I need some air.” you sucked in a breath before hurriedly leaving the bus. 

“What’s with her?” Hyunjin walked in. “Is she mad at me?”

“No, look.” Ana showed him your phone. 

Hyunjin frowned instantly, running out of the bus after you. 

You stood not too far away with a cigarette in your hand as you hugged yourself with your other arm and Hyunjin’s eyes softened when he saw you shivering in the wind.

“I knew you’d forget to bring a jacket.” Hyunjin put his leather jacket around you, smoothing his hand over your back a few times. 

You exhaled a puff of smoke, not answering him as you melted into his big jacket. 

Hyunjin took out a cigarette for himself and you reached out with your lighter, lighting it up as he smirked. 

“Since when do you smoke?” he asked.

“Well, I’m feeling extra stressed right now so I needed something to take the edge off.” you shrugged. 

“Because of the comments?” 

“I don’t wanna talk about them.” 

“I’m sorry.” Hyunjin sighed. 

“It’s not your fault.” you said. 

“I feel like it is.” 

Hyunjin was standing so close to you that his arm was touching yours while both of you continued smoking.

You stood silently next to each other for a few more moments as the clouds passed you by, and slowly but surely Hyunjin closed the gap between your hands as he  touched yours briefly before he wrapped his pinky around yours. 

“Hey, you know I’m honored you’re part of my band.” his tone was serious and you couldn’t bear to look at him or you’d burst into tears. 

“I know.” you smiled as you kept looking into the distance. 

He smiled too, his eyes focused on you.

Hyunjin had your back; and that was a pinky promise.

-

Finally, you arrived to your next destination, and you’d be there for a few days which meant you had to check into a hotel. 

You were glad to have some time to yourself, you needed a real shower and a real bed and just some time to get away from everything, recharge your batteries. 

You just finished with your shower and skincare when your phone annoyed you, buzzing with texts constantly. 

When you grabbed it you realized that you forgot to change Hyunjin’s name from ‘asshole’. 

You laughed to yourself, deciding to just add a little heart at the end. 

asshole<3: y/n what are you doing

asshole<3: why aren’t you answering

asshole<3: i’m BOREEEED

asshole<3: y/n!!!! 

asshole<3: princess?

asshole<3: i’m coming to your room

“Shit!” you exclaimed just in time when Hyunjin knocked on your door.

“Go away, Hyunjin!” you yelled on the other side. 

“Never! I will wake the whole damn floor if you don’t open this door.” he banged against it. 

“Spoiled brat.” you muttered to yourself before opening the door. 

“Oh.” Hyunjin looked you up and down, your hair still wet from the shower, your little nightgown accentuating all your goodies. 

“Did you dress up for me?” he smirked as his tongue darted out to play with his lip piercing; a habit you picked up on.

“Oh yeah, I was just waiting for you to come knocking on my door.” you answered sarcastically.

“Oh come on, I brought snacks.” he lifted up a few bags. 

“You should’ve said that first.” you stepped aside, letting him in. 

“So, are you here just because you’re bored?” you scoffed as he practically skipped to your bed before throwing himself on it. 

“No, I’m here cause I know you miss me.” he smirked at you. “I spared you the walk to my room, princess.” 

“Oh yeah, I am the one who missed you.” you said pointedly. 

“I know you are.” he wiggled his eyebrows and you groaned, throwing a pillow at him but the slick bastard caught it. 

“I’m gonna change into something else.” you said, feeling a bit self-conscious. 

“Into what? After that outfit, the only logical thing is to have nothing on.”

“Wouldn’t you like that?” you snickered. 

“I would.” he smirked. 

“Changing right now!” you left for the bathroom to put on some actual pjs. 

“Don’t cross this line, Hyunjin.” you pointed as the two of you settled in your bed, ready to watch a movie and snack. 

He smiled his shit eating grin and put his finger over the line. 

“Whoops, crossed it.”

“Next time you lose a finger.” you threatened.

“Where is it gonna be misplaced?” he smirked. 

“Not where you think.”

“You don’t know what I’m thinking.” he leaned closer to you. “But I can show you.”

“No thanks. Just watch the movie.” 

It was quiet for some time until Hyunjin spoke up. 

“I’m thinking of getting another tattoo.”

“Oh?” you didn’t take your eyes off the screen. “Where?”

“My back. I wanna finish what I started with my arm and shoulder.” he answered. 

“Which is?” you looked at him and he smirked. 

“Glad you asked.” he said, taking his shirt off. 

“Woah, woah, what are you doing?” you jolted as he tossed it aside. 

“Showing you my tattoos.” he giggled. “See, it’s one big picture. I sketched the original on my paper, it’s a flower’s life story. From a little seed all the way to the dust it becomes after it wilts forever. It’s not finished yet though.” he turned and you gulped. 

“That’s a beautiful thought actually.” 

“Feel the flowers.” Hyunjin turned his shoulder to you. 

“I’m not gonna touch your tattoos.” you said. 

“Come on, you know you want to.” he taunted you. 

“No, I don’t.” you shook your head. 

“Yes, you do. You started ogling me as soon as I took my shirt off.”

“That’s because of your musc- nothing, nevermind.” you quickly caught yourself, biting your tongue as your face started burning. 

“Because of what? My muscles? You like them?” he started flexing immediately.

“That���s disgusting, stop acting like that.” you slapped his arm without thinking and you both froze. 

“Oh.” Hyunjin smirked before taking your hand in his. “Really, I want you to feel my tattoos.” 

“Fine if it gets you to shut up.” 

Your fingers gently traced the delicate art on Hyunjin’s skin, starting from his wrist up his arm as you watched goosebumps rise on his skin. 

You took your time to trace every leaf and petal as Hyunjin looked at you intently, his breaths coming out shaky as you traced over his arm, your fingers swirling with the intricate patterns. 

Your hand came up to his shoulder as you continued tracing, his skin was so smooth and he was so warm under your touch. 

“Y/n.” Hyunjin whispered, his hand covering yours as he leaned in closer to you, his eyelids hooded. 

Your eyes widened when you realized he was about to kiss you and you quickly moved away. 

“What the hell are you doing?!” you stood up and Hyunjin frowned at you. 

“What does it look like I’m doing?!” 

“Trying to get into my pants!” you scoffed. “I think you should sleep in your room.”

“B-but, it’s not like that!” Hyunjin stood up and you backed away.

“I know what it’s like. Please leave.” 

“Fine.” Hyunjin looked dejected as he grabbed his phone and shirt. “Teddy is lonely without me anyways.” he said, making a theatrical leave out of your room as he dragged his feet and kept giving you pointed looks. 

You were almost close to telling him he can stay, but as soon as he leaned in, you panicked and didn’t know how to react so you kept your mouth shut.

And you continued spiralling when he left, thinking about if he actually likes you or just wants to fuck you like he does to any girl. 

You’ve seen him with girls on his arms constantly and while you always thought what you felt was hate or disgust; in this moment you recognized it was jealousy and it didn’t feel good at all.

taglist: @moonchild9350 @janepg @velvetmoonlght @hwanghyunjinismybae @jehhskz @porangporangmeong @laylasbunbunny @laughatdanger @jeonginslefthand @sapphirewaves @s3ungm1nxxl0ve @painterhyunjin @starlost-mochi-x @saintcosette @ooshyana @frehyun @scarlet789 @skzdust @simpforleeknaur @schniti-is-in-the-house

part 2

[limethefirst]

Hellooo, i hope your having a beautiful day. I saw your requests are open and that you wrote for movie shadow once. Would it be okay if maybe i requested movie shadow x a reader who prehaps eggmans niece. Maybe then when its just shadow, stone and her on the crab prehaps she takes shadow to her room on the crab and trys to play and show him some of her stuff not scared of him. Then maybe she remind him of maria 🥹? Idk i have sonic brainrot after seeing the movie today lol and ive had this idea since.

Do I look like her?

pairings: Shadow the Hedgehogs x reader (platonic)

warnings: sonic 3 spoilers

summary: as the niece of Eggman you are left behind on the crab with Shadow as the men finish their mission, but every time Shadow looks at you he sees someone else.

a/n: hii thank you so much for the request! I’ve been wanting to write more Sonic 3 fics because I love the movie so much! I hope this is to your liking and you have an amazing day!!!

You watched your uncle Robotnik and Gerald walked away together, planning to sneak into GUN and steal the final keycard they needed, leaving you, Stone and Shadow.

“I have avocados in The Crab. Let’s go make guac!” Stone chimed, both you and Shadow turned your head to look at him.

“Revenge guac.” Shadow responded, his brows furrowed watching as Stone slowly helped you back into the sewer drain.

You were warned about Shadow, he was dangerous Robotnik had told you. Robotnik was somewhat caring when it came to you, he wasn’t harsh nor rude, he saw you as a responsibility but not a burden. He was kinder around you, maybe he saw a bit of himself, being all alone in a world that tended to abandon.

Whatever it was, you knew his warnings were usually right, but having been around the hedgehog for a while you honestly didn’t believe your uncle. Shadow, although seemed tough, you could tell there was more behind the persona and all the walls he’d put up.

Stone walked over to the island in the middle of the Crab, preparing the avocados for the guacamole he planned to make.

You took the opportunity to show Shadow around. Being the youngest of the bunch you didn’t have many friends and this was a chance to make a new one.

Quickly you walked in front of Shadow, a bright smile on your face highlighting the innocence in all your features, it was eerily reminiscent of someone.

“Come, I wanna show you around!” You told Shadow, grabbing his gloved hand unannounced, making him slightly more on guard. Stone looked up from the guac he was currently working on, he seemed happy; smiling at the two kids.

Shadow didn’t say much as you dragged him to your room, he just looked at you. Watching as your hand gripped onto his, he couldn’t help but hold on as well. Fearing that if he let go he may never find it again.

As he watched you near the closed door, he couldn’t help but take in all that you were, your demeanor, your way of speaking, your bright attitude, it was just like hers.

“This is my room!” Your hand started letting go of his but his grip only tightened. You looked down at his hand and back up at him as his eyes scanned the small room. You only smiled at his gesture, not feeling the need to point it out.

As you guided him around still hand in hand you saw his eyes checking every corner of the room, “It’s small,”

Your sudden laugh catches him off guard, his head quickly turning to see your free hand covering your mouth, “Sorry sorry! It’s just that’s the first thing you say to me?” You jokingly tell the hedgehog.

He watches you for a little bit longer, his eyes widening. As he stares up at you, all he sees is her. It wasn’t physical, it wasn’t that you looked like Maria, no not at all, it was the fact your personality towards him resembled her so much.

You weren’t afraid, you approached him and didn’t see him as a weapon or some type of lab rat. It was like he was really a person around you, like he was capable of caring again.

Shadow didn’t say much, and that was okay, you could do most of the talking anyway, you enjoyed being able to finally talk to someone.

You sat Shadow down on the floor, letting go of his hand so you could show him some of the toys and games you owned, knowing he lived 50 years in the past you wanted to keep him up to date on all the newer stuff that had come up. While you were grabbing some items you decided to also play a movie, it would be cool to show him the new films they’d come out with.

He silently watched you hurry around the room, dropping strange toys onto him. He felt some weird string toys get stuck in his quills.

You heard him rustle around, seeing him pull out your worm on a string, “Very colorful,” he grunted, as he tossed the toy in the pile in front of him.

All you did was smile as you sat in front of him, describing each toy and how they worked, as the latest Godzilla movie played in the background.

It was ironic really, back then Godzilla was a monster and now he was a friend protecting the people from the other monsters.

He no longer sat with Maria watching movies and playing games, now he sat with you. Oh how things really have changed.

[neolithicsheep]

I've been meaning to write this down for some time because there are some fundamental errors that people keep making in crowdfunding/sales that shoot their campaigns in the foot. So here's a list of easy principles.

Who am I and why should you listen to me? I am a freelance chaos marketer who has raised well over $100,000 when totaling up various crowdfunding campaigns, mostly for aid to Afghanistan. In addition I've managed to successfully market everything from stuffed plush koalas to hydration salts. Why am I putting this out here for free? Because despite a years long track record of success in social media marketing no one will hire me because I don't have a college degree, so I might as well help people out who can't afford to hire full time marketing. 

If you'd like to hire me to help you evaluate your marketing and sales and teach you better skills on a 1 to 1 basis then hit me up, I am often willing to barter, esp with artists in a variety of mediums! 

Anyway on to HOW TO CONVINCE PEOPLE TO GIVE YOU MONEY:

TL;DR: use positive messaging that humanizes everyone involved and make it as easy as possible for people to give you money.

1. Shame and guilt are demotivators. They will not inspire people to give you money. “Why aren't people helping” “I guess people don't care” “This isn't getting enough shares/donations” etc etc. Online fundraising is often frustrating, heartbreaking, and will make you angry, especially when there's a humanitarian crisis involved. It is critical that if you are raising funds for someone else that you have a place to vent that is not the audience you would like to donate to the cause. 

2. Use motivating messages instead! “You can help!” “Even a small donation is important because it tells Recipient they're not alone, and people care” “We can't fix the whole world, but we can make this one thing right, and that means something”. Emphasize that this is a problem that the reader can help fix with even a small effort. With items for sale, tell a story. "I drew this thinking about how safe I always felt under a tree in my childhood backyard". "I chose the colors in this shawl to remind me of sagebrush and piñon pine in my favorite place."

3. Make it easy for people to give you money. Never talk about your product or cause without a link that leads directly to where people can give you money. They should be able to click one link on your post and land at the fundraiser or your shop. Every required click is going to lose people, so minimize the number of them required. This also means if you have a list of fundraisers for people to choose from the ones at the bottom will be neglected - people will hit the ones at the top. Be sure to take those off when they're met or periodically shuffle the list around to make sure everyone gets a chance to be in the first 5 spots. In online stores people will often only look at the first page or two of items so be sure to shuffle things around and remove out of stock items that are taking up prime real estate.

4. Humanize the recipient - this can be tricksy when raising charitable aid because you don't want to be exploitative. But to use my last Afghan campaign as an example, “We need to raise $500 for an Afghan family” is less effective than “This Afghan family's home was damaged in heavy rains that caused extensive flooding. They only need $500 to repair and rebuild so they can stay in their home and not become displaced.”  If possible, tell as much of the recipient's story as they consent to. Eg “Fred is seven and loves dinosaurs. His favorite is brontosaurus, and he carries a stuffed one with him everywhere. He wants to be a paleontologist when he grows up and discover a complete brontosaurus skeleton that he can give the same name as his stuffed friend. Unfortunately he's also a trans boy living in Texas and his family needs $1500 to rent a Uhaul and get to Colorado so he can grow up in safety and do that.”

5. If you're not the recipient, humanize yourself while you're at it! “I'd be really grateful if you all could share or donate” “This fundraiser really means a lot to me because…” “Thank you so much for any help, whether sharing or donating” 

6. Treat the audience like humans. Speak to them like they are people you're having a conversation with, not ATMs. This ultimately is the goal of not using shame/guilt and humanizing yourself and the recipient. 

7. Set low goals and bump them up when met. One of the weird things about people is they prefer to give to successful fundraisers. Yeah I don't know either. So you're more likely to get the full amount you need if you set a partial goal initially and then raise it when that's met. Raise it in small increments and raise it repeatedly as those goals are hit to keep momentum going. You can't always control this so if you're boosting someone else's fundraiser you can do it artificially via asks like “Hey y'all can we get together and put $500 on this?”

[moonstruckme]

Hi Mae!

I love your writing so much and think about it maybe too often haha. Today I fell and sliced the back of my hand open so I had to go wait 4 hours at the ER to get it sutured back together and I thought it might be a sort of funny scenario to write about with the marauders where R just walks up to them covered in blood like “heyy who wants to drive me to the ER” and is pretty chill in demeanour until the reality of having a hole in her hand sets in once they clean her up. I went into shock then, lost my hearing for a few minutes which was scary, but luckily I had a someone nearby who could help. Of course no worries if you don’t feel like it, I appreciate you and I hope you have a lovely day!♡

Thanks for requesting! I hope your hand is feeling better lovely <3

cw: blood, mention of razors (unrelated to blood)

poly!marauders x fem!reader ♡ 788 words

“Hey, Sirius?” 

Sirius screws the brush of his nail polish back into the bottle. “Yeah?” 

“Are you busy?” 

“Not anymore.” He gets up from the bed, wandering towards your voice in the bathroom. “What’s up, gorgeous? You need something?” 

Sirius stalls when he finds you. You’re standing there with a dissatisfied frown on your face, your hand a basin of blood held in front of you that’s overflowing into the sink. 

“Maybe a ride to A&E?” you ask. “If you’re free.” 

“What the hell happened?” Sirius goes to you. He tries to take your hand, but you move it away. 

“Wait, your nails—” 

“I’m not really worried about my nails right now, babe.” He holds you by the wrist, turning the faucet on to a gentle flow before bringing your hand underneath it. The blood washes away quickly, and Sirius blocks your view of the cut, leaning down to see it. “How’d you manage this?” 

“I was just opening my new razors—” 

“Razors?” 

“It wasn’t even the razors that did it,” you say, a laugh somewhere in your voice. Your raised voices have drawn attention from the rest of the house. Remus and then James appear in the doorway. “It was the plastic it comes in. Surprisingly sharp.” 

“What’s going on?” asks James. 

“She would like to know,” Sirius informs him, “if it’s convenient for any of us to drive her to A&E.” 

You roll your eyes. “Alright, you don’t have to say it like that. I just mean that it’s not so dire, I’m hardly bleeding out.” 

“You might be!” 

“What’d you do, love?” Remus moves forward to see, he and Sirius now clustered on either side of you, each closer to your own hand than you are. 

“She managed to injure herself with plastic packaging.”

“Okay. Again, the tone is a bit much,” you say. 

“Aw, sweetheart.” James’ arms wrap around your waist. He smudges a kiss onto your cheek. “Are you okay?” 

“Yeah,” you tell him, audibly softening at the affection, “it doesn’t even hurt that bad, it’s only stinging…” You go quiet. 

Sirius glances back at you, and you’re staring between him and Remus, your hand in your view for the first time. You look suddenly paler. 

“Hey, baby.” Sirius’ voice draws the attention of the other two to what’s happened. He steps in front of your hand again, squeezing up the length of your arm. “You’re okay.” 

“It’s…” You stare at where you had been for a moment longer, then snap your vision to the side. You’re breathing a tad faster. “God, sorry. I feel sort of sick.” 

“Take some breaths, dove, you’re alright.” Remus holds your hand close to his chest, shielding it from your view as he reaches into a nearby drawer for bandages. “We’re just going to stop the bleeding and then take you to A&E, you don’t have to do anything.” 

“All of you?” 

“Why?” James gives your middle a light squeeze. “Are there some of us you’d rather not have there?”

“I knew she had favorites.” Sirius grins. “Cruel. We’re only trying to be there for you, gorgeous.” 

You smile a little bit for their sake. You’re not sure either of them believe it, but James gives you a thankful kiss nonetheless. 

“Keep breathing,” he reminds you, big hand rubbing up and down your abdomen. “You’re really doing so well. I was surprised by how calm you seemed a minute ago.” 

“You should have heard her before you got here.” Sirius squints his eyes at you playfully. “She wouldn’t let me touch her hand because she was worried it’d mess up my nail polish.” 

“Sweetheart,” James laughs, giving you another fond squeeze. “Really?” 

“Priorities, babe,” Sirius chides you. 

“Alright,” says Remus. You feel a kiss on your knuckles, and then he’s turning around, your bandaged hand still held protectively between both of his. “Is anyone going to warm the car, or do I have to do everything?” 

You nod, chastened, and start towards the door, but you’re dragged back by three pairs of hands. 

“I mean anyone not injured, dove.” Remus’ voice is heavy with loving exasperation. 

“See what we’ve been dealing with? It’s a two man job.” Sirius squeezes your shoulder on his way past, presumably going to warm the car. James says something about getting your shoes and follows behind.

You give Remus a woeful look. He tsks, folding you into a hug. “Did you really prioritize Sirius’ nail polish over your bleeding hand?” he asks in a murmur. 

You mush your cheek to his chest. “Only for a minute.” 

Remus is quiet, but his amused breath fans over the top of your head as he brings his lips down for a kiss.

[norrisainz33]

baller || LN4

summary: lando has a massive crush on one of the wnba’s newest stars and he isn’t afraid to show it

pairing: lando norris x wnba!reader

fc & warnings: nika muhl & suggestive, you are responsible for the content you consume

requested: nope! just trying to get myself back into writing and i love the wnba. will continue with requests soon 🫶🏻

ﾟ. ✿ ୨❤︎୧⠀✿ . ﾟ

ynuser has made a post

liked by seattlestorm, sbird10, yourbff, yoursibling, landonorris, maxfewtrell, lewishamilton, and 127,284 others

ynuser: time to get to work

view all 189 comments

user1: i’m in love

user2: the most gorgeous girl

jackhughes: looking good

user3: good luck tonight!!!

landonorris: work it girl 😍🤤

maxfewtrell: i knew you’d be here

user5: lando norizz has arrived right on time

user4: when will y/n put lando out of his misery

user6: this vroom vroom man won’t quit

sbird10: making seattle proud y/n!

yourbff: very demure, very mindful, very gorgeous

ynuser: very cutesy

user6: major buckets incoming

user7: fashion ICON

landonorris has posted to his story

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carlossainz55: since when do you follow basketball……

landonorris: since i met the most beautiful girl in the world at a party and learned she plays professional basketball

carlossainz55: ay dios mio cabron. what party????

landonorris: a party lewis encouraged me to attend in miami. he knows her through modeling or something

carlossainz55: ahh the one party i did not attend! well best of luck to you lando

maxfewtrell: mate i can’t keep defending you

landonorris: you don’t have to defend me 😭

maxfewtrell: do you even know how basketball works?!

landonorris: YES!!!! need i remind you im friends with jimmy butler?! he gave me a crash course

maxfewtrell: well thank god for that

user8: you’re obsessed

user9: i get it lan!! y/n is hot id be thirsting like a freak over her too if i was you

oscarpiastri: has she noticed you yet?

landonorris: besides following me on instagram she has not engaged

oscarpiastri: have you idk….. messaged her???

landonorris: ummm no that would be too much

oscarpiastri: and you hyping up her team on your story and commenting on all of her posts isn’t too much?

landonorris: nope not too much at all

oscarpiastri: 🫠 ok bud

lewishamilton: you’re really trying here huh?

landonorris: 😔 yes

lewishamilton: well it must be your lucky day because she just asked about you

landonorris: WHAT SHE ASKED YOU ABOIT ME?! OHMOGMGOGM

lewishamilton: yes.. she asked if we were going to be spending any time in the US before austin

landonorris: i wasn’t planning on it but if she wants me to i will hop on the first flight

lewishamilton: i told her that i may be and that if she’s curious about you … that she should text you herself 😉

landonorris: i feel faint

user10: love that you’re supporting women’s sports king

user11: you really said i have a crush and it’s now everyone’s problem and i love you for it

landonorris has made a post

liked by mclarenf1, ynuser, quadrant, oscapiastri, maxfewtrell, alex_albon, georgerussell63, and 536,234 others

landonorris: it’s all about the details 🎆

view all 899 comments

user11: lando you never fail to make the best helmets

quadrant: quadrant on track 🎆

mclarenf1: an iconic helmet for an iconic driver

user12: oh this helmet is so hot

maxfewtrell: ready to cook

user14: is no one going to mention y/n in the likes

ynuser: nice helmet

landonorris: thanks y/n. i made it myself 😉

user14: OMG AHES INTHE COMMWNTS TOO

user15: someone check on lando stat

user16: best day of lando’s life fr

user17: guys we need to be normal about this and be wingmen for lando

user18: so true user17

user18: ynuser lando saves puppies in his free time and was kind enough to lend me his lambo

user19: ynuser lando helped my grandma cross the street!

user22: ynuser lando bought me a house!!

user33: ynuser lando saved a kitten from a burning building!!

maxfewtrell: these comments are killing me 😂

user13: you’re going to win this weekend i just know it

ynuser has posted to their story

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seattlestorm: gorgeous as always

user9: ugh i’m so obsessed with you

yourbff: how do you manage to make everything look hot

ynuser: you should know bby

landonorris: todays fit is a good fit

ynuser: why thank you lando

landonorris: omg

landonorris: i mean… anything for you y/n

ynuser: anything you say?

landonorris: just about!

ynuser: when are you coming to a game then?

landonorris: i didn’t know i had an invite

ynuser: of course you do!! seeing as that you’re such a big fan and all 😉

landonorris: consider me there

ynuser: you going to invite me to a race?

landonorris: i have a paddock pass with your name on it 😏

ynuser: consider me there

user11: can’t wait to see you cook in the playoffs!!

patriciooward: you gonna come see me or what 🤔

ynuser: i’ll be in the paddock if you will!

patriciooward: HA yes i’ll be there. looking forward to seeing you

user13: f1 and lando brought me here and i have to say im not mad about it

jackhughes: 😮‍💨😮‍💨😮‍💨😮‍💨

user10: the wnba is lucky to have you!!

landonorris has made a post

liked by seattlestorm, ynuser, mclarenf1, lewishamilton, maxfewtrell, oscarpiastri, wnba, maxverstappen1, and 765,204 others

landonorris: quick pit stop to catch the playoffs. the storm are finals bound lfg p1 here they come!

view all 965 comments

seattlestorm: it was great to have you join us lando!!

landonorris: thanks for having me!

user14: oh my god it’s happening

maxfewtrell: mate stand up

landonorris: oh i’m up mate don’t even worry

user17: lando taking shooting his shot to the next level

ynuser: thanks for stopping by lanny

landonorris: of course y/n/n, no place i’d rather be

user7: i’m rooting for you guys

user46: you got this lando let’s goooo

user17: she called him lanny im ???

user22: he’s so pretty, she’s so pretty ,, they’re perfect for each other

mclarenf1: we love women’s sports in this house

ynuser: yes we do!!

user33: LETS GO STORM!!!

maxverstappen1: oh did someone get his chance?

landonorris: perhaps

user45: y/nlando truthers unite

landonorris has posted to his story

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user18: YESSSSSS

user22: i’ve never been so invested in an american sport before

user76: you posting her as if yall together!! you might just be as delusional as me king

oscarpiastri: how is the winning her over going

landonorris: you’d be surprised but i think it’s working!! we’ve gone on 3 dates and talk every day 😭

oscarpiastri: im so proud of you man

mclarenf1: woohooo let’s goooo!!!

maxfewtrell: i thought we agreed you’d post the team photo and not the one of just her

landonorris: she just looked so cute and happy tho

maxfewtrell: but this makes it look like you’re dating

landonorris: i wish we were 😭😭😭

maxfewtrell: i know i know

patriciooward: i put in a good word for you with y/n

landonorris: you are a real one pato

user87: you are a fan girl just like me

user34: the most supportive boyfriend but not boyfriend i’ve ever seen

user19: you’re nothing if not persistent

user77: you posting more about y/n than you do anyone else

f1gossip has made a post

liked by user1, user2, user3, user4, user5, user6, and 12,846 others

f1gossip: following her first wnba title, y/n was spotted celebrating with friends at a popular nightclub. we received this anonymous intel: “i was in the bathroom and heard a girl loudly talking on her phone. when i realized it was y/n i tried to be chill and not bother her but couldn’t help but over hear her conversation. she said “i wish you were here lando” and “i can’t just fly to mexico to be with you” and “no no no you can’t just fly here right now from mexico” and “ok maybe i could fly to brazil but maybe you should just come here for an extended stay before vegas.” needless to say she was definitely talking to lando and it sounded like they were more than friends!”

view all 577 comments

user44: ok hittin us w the invasion of her privacy

user7: oh my god our boy did it - he bagged his baddie

user99: obsessed with him trying to solve her problems and immediately trying to fly to her

user67: hoping if i post really obnoxiously about my celebrity crush they’ll too have no choice but to want me

user1: i can’t believe after the last 5 months of pining he’s actually gotten the girl

user9: i’m not believing nothing until we see if from them

user12: y’all gotta stop speculating about these two

user13: amazing day for annoying people (me)!

ynuser has made a post

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ynuser: what happens in vegas stays in vegas

view all 667 comments

user12: cryptic 🤔

user7: she’s in the paddock 😭😭😭😭

user33: omg shes at the grand prix someone please check on our boy lando

oscarpiastri: was a pleasure meeting you y/n!

ynuser: likewise oscar!! had a great time getting to know you and lily

maxverstappen1: so nice to meet you!! looking forward to you wiping the floor with me when we play that game of padel you promised

ynuser: remember, you told me you’d play basketball with me in exchange!!

maxverstappen1: how could i forget?

user35: adore the fact that max will beg anyone and everyone to play padel with him

user47: i’d love to see max playing basketball 😂

user55: wnba x f1 crossover i never knew i needed

landonorris: hopefully things that happened in vegas can happen outside of vegas too 😉

ynuser: if you play your cards right mr norris 😏

user7: i feel like im interrupting something here

user47: ugh you are always serving so hard in your fits girl

landonorris has posted a story

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user17: YOURE ON A DATE!!! WITH Y/N I HOPE

user18: shocked you didn’t tag her mate

maxfewtrell: so you can post a story but not reply to my texts asking how it went??

landonorris: sorry i was busy 😉

maxfewtrell: oh my god.. you sealed the deal?

landonorris: yes i did! say hello to the wnba’s newest wag

maxfewtrell: never doubted you for a second

landonorris: yes you did but it’s ok

ynuser: thank you for a lovely dinner 🤍

landonorris: of course gorgeous 🧡

landonorris: and thanks for giving me a chance 🥹

ynuser: i should be thanking you for your persistence. i’m so glad we met lando

landonorris: likewise y/n/n

user22: i’m screaming and crying and throwing up

carlossainz55: looks like the devotion to basketball is paying off?

landonorris: yes sir it is 😉

user55: queuing that should be me by justin bieber rn

user66: that’s our BOY

landonorris has made a post

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landonorris: never doubt me again

view all 999 comments

user17: NEVER DOUBTED FOR A SECOND

user6: my bad king , i didn’t realize you had this much game

maxfewtrell: i’m not even allowed to touch your car let alone sit on it

landonorris: yeah well you don’t sit on my face so why would i let you sit on my car [comment has been deleted by user]

user17: WE SAW THAT LANDO

user88: lando you naughty boy omg

oscarpiastri: thank god

landonorris: thanks for sticking with me bestie

user43: couldn’t be happier to see this hard launch

ynuser: we are so hot

landnorris: the hottest

seattlestorm: safe to say that we are formula 1 fans now

user83: i’ve never rooted for a couple more than this one

user92: he got the girl, he got the win, he’s got it all. let’s go lando

ﾟ. ✿ ୨❤︎୧⠀✿ . ﾟ

a/n: thanks for reading!! likes and reblogs appreciated 🫶🏻

ﾟ. ✿ ୨❤︎୧⠀✿ . ﾟ

disclaimer: pictures are not mine and everything i write is fiction

© norrisainz33 || please do not rewrite, translate, or copy any of my works posted here on to any other platform

[cinnamorollcrybaby]

heyyy so like you are the only creator i fllw that can maybe write this...uhm like sukuna and insecure!reader that start making out and it gets heated and then sukuna takes readers shirt off and then his but when he wants to pull down her pants she stops him bcz she is insecure of her stretch marks but then he reassures her and they do it😭 I hope you will maybe write this and didn't have a stroke trying to understand this request 💓

- love anoo (i LOOVEE your work)

Unwavering

Tags: Sukuna x fem!Reader, insecure!reader, soft!Sukuna, trueform!sukuna, fluff, smut, unprotected sex, slight breeding kink, mdni, NO PROOFREAD SORRY IM TIRED.

An: I think this is a stupid cute idea 🥹 Thank you for trusting me and requesting anoo!! I really appreciate it 🫂

Sukuna’s a patient man. He had waited over a thousand years to execute a failing plan to take over the world. Now that he’s lost, he’s decided to take up other avenues in his life.

Learning to simply… live was hard. Sukuna’s a determined man. He needs to have a goal in mind in order to function. Whatever meaningless hobby he took up, he tried being the best at.

With his newfound free time, he also decided to try to live the slow life. He took meaningless trips to coffee shops, and he tried not to think about murder when everyone screamed and ran away from him. Maybe it was his 7’3 stature… maybe it was the extra set of arms… maybe it was the tattoos.

Everyday he was reminded of why he didn’t live this life in the first place. Humans do not accept him. They do not want him in their society. He was willing to bet that they’d almost rather him play the villain… Then, they could all shamelessly hate him.

Though, there was one human who didn’t run. The nervous barista gave him a shaky smile, and she politely asked for his name.

Sukuna was taken aback. This tiny mortal wants to know his name? Knowing someone’s name in the heien era was a privilege — not a right. He grew up and lived in a time before social media and phones. If you wanted to know someone’s name, you had to ask them for it, and they had to be willing to oblige you in an answer.

With your cute demeanor, Sukuna was willing to oblige you with his name. “It’s Suk-“ He stopped himself. That was a name that struck fear into people’s hearts. He didn’t want to be associated with that fear anymore, and the thought of frightening you actually brought him no joy. “Ryomen.”

You gave another shaky smile before you carefully etched his name into the side of a cup. For you, this interaction was terrifying, but you couldn’t afford to quit in this economy. So, you were serving a monster. No big deal.

“I like that name.” You complimented. It’s often a compliment you give patrons when you’re nervous… or when you’re trying your hand at flirting. Either way, you look back up at him, trying not to focus on the extra set of eyes. “What can I get you?”

Sukuna felt a weird shiver going up his back when you complimented him. Perhaps this was your cursed technique? Were you a sorcerer pretending to be a barista, so you could spy on him? The shiver wasn’t necessarily unpleasant… just unfamiliar. He didn’t hear much compliments from anyone besides Uraume, and Uraume’s doesn’t count. They compliment him for everything, including the way he breathes. He finds it annoying.

“It’s custom to give your own name when someone else has graced you with theirs.” He grunted, coming off much more gruff than he intended. He just wanted to know your name.

“Oh…” Your voice was soft, and you gaze away from the behemoth in your lobby. Was this some sort of trick? Some old myths and legends say that a name holds power. Would he be able to kill you if he knew your name?? You glance back over at him, noting his large muscled and incredibly toned chest that his kimono didn’t bother hiding. He was so fucking big. Your thoughts were completely baseless. If he wanted to kill you, he simply just could — regardless of knowing your name. “It’s yn.” You finally answer.

Sukuna nodded. “That’s a good name.” He realized that his compliment didn’t sound as personable as yours. It’s his first time though… He’s sure that he’ll figure it out.

“Thank you..” You respond as you started to contemplate what exactly your life had come to. You were having a semi-pleasant interaction with a monster at your job… Do you get paid enough to deal with this? “So… Ryomen, what can I get for you?”

Sukuna felt another shiver. He liked hearing your voice say his name. He wanted to hear it again and again. He wanted his name to fall from your lips like a mantra as he made love to you.

Shaking away those pestering thoughts, he finally gets to the task at hand. “Yes.. what is this.. coffee that you mortals speak of..?”

Oh boy.

*** *** ***

After explaining to the very skeptical monster what coffee was, you served him a cup with very little milk and sugar. Sukuna was delighted by the taste, and he was delighted with your company.

He made it apart of his routine. He woke up, took care of himself, got dressed in whatever Uraume had picked out from his closet, and he set forth to your coffee shop, where he’d hang around for hours — scaring away every potential customer.

He asked you all sorts of things, and you two got to know each other better. It was an unlikely bond.

It took him forever to finally kiss you. Scared of running off his one and only human companion — his first chance of living the slow life, he wanted to make sure you absolutely were ready and wanted that sort of relationship with him.

It led to some rather funny moments of you trying to kiss him, him getting confused and flustered, leaving you to feel rejected.

But when he finally did kiss you, Sukuna felt a sort of hunger that he hadn’t felt in his years of living. Sure, he has had sex before, mostly out of sheer boredom. Immortality isn’t what it’s cracked up to be.

But this, this was different. This was lust, longing, yearning. He wanted to make you feel good. He needed to show you how… happy you make him.

He had you sat upon his lap as he chased your lips with feverish kisses. Today would be the day. He’s going to finally indulge himself in your warm embrace and allow himself to enjoy on of the most human of pleasures: connection.

His hands were slowly rubbing your hips — trailing them up and down, feeling the beautiful curvature of your body. He loved every ditch and mound. He loved how you just fit against him.

His hands finally take a chance, and he slips them underneath your shirt. The skin-on-skin contact is nearly dizzying, and he feels almost embarrassed for letting a little bit of steamy foreplay get him so riled up. He can’t help it though, not when your lips taste so sweet.

Your shirt is promptly slipped up over your head, and he discards it to the side. His oversized palms slide up your tummy to your chest where he carefully grasped at your breast, groaning into your mouth as he feels the fullness and weight in his hand.

Though, despite his lust clouded brain, he didn’t miss the way your stomach flexed and tensed under his touch. Assuming you were just a big ticklish, he decided to ignore it.

His lips trail down to your neck, where he’s making mark after mark on you. Every mortal who dared to step foot in that coffee shop should know you’re not on the menu.

“Ryo.” You gasp his name so sweetly while your jaw tilts back ever so slightly. He’s never been a witness to something so pretty and pure.

His teeth go to nip at your neck, and his hands slide to your back, so he can free you from this contraption that dares to keep your beautiful breasts from his reach.

After a moment of trial and error (and a small giggle from you), Sukuna finally unclasps your bra, and his mouth waters when he’s graced with the sight.

He doesn’t take a moment for granted. Living the slow life would need to wait for a moment while he chases this euphoric feeling you give him.

His hand rests underneath the globe, and he flicks his tongue out over your nipple. For a moment, he wonders if his ministrations are more for you or him. His answer comes to him in the form of a breathy whine from you.

Clasping his mouth over the swollen bud, he uses his hand to toy with your other one. Your hands are entangled in his hair, weakly tugging as you let out those frantic whines.

He switches sides, paying an equal amount of attention to your other breast. He’s subtly experimenting with your body, trying to determine which of his tongue movements do you like the best based off the sounds that fall from your lips.

Licking and gentle sucks seem to be the winner. Personally, Sukuna would like to try biting, but you had let out this pained hiss when he tried. He quickly went back to his more gentle, loving licks.

By this time, his cocks were throbbing in agony. He can’t remember a time where he’s been this hard and hadn’t already decided to promptly handle it himself.

His hands fall to the waistband of your legging that hug around your hips, and he notices you tensing and arching away from his touch once more. He pulls away from your nipple with an obscene ‘pop’.

“Do you have a secret wound that you are not telling me about?” He finally prompts you, hands moving to your back where you seem more comfortable with him touching.

You shift just a bit in his lap from the sudden discomfort of the conversation. You figured this would come up at some point, but you didn’t know how he was going to handle it. Debating on lying to him and saying you are wounded, you actually end up deciding to tell the truth.

“It’s not that. I just…” Your eyes try to find anything else in the room other than him to focus on. “… don’t know if I am ready for you to see me like this.”

Sukuna’s face relaxes, and he sits up to eye you. “That’s an interesting choice of words, princess.” He casually notes before his hands go back to idly rubbing on your waist. “If you’d like to stop, you can just come out and say that. I think I can surprise you with my patience.”

You give him a small appreciative smile. Despite the coldness of his sharp facial features, Sukuna can say somethings that just instantly warm you to him. “It’s not that I don’t want this because I really do… Can we.. just maybe turn the light off when we…?”

His eyebrows furrow. If you wanted this, why did you seem so cautious. Then, it hits him. It must be his face and extra appendages. With the lights off, you can pretend that he’s another mortal man… that is very large and muscular.

“I don’t think dimming the lights will erase an extra set of eyes and arms, but I will do it to ease your worries, princess.”

Your eyes widen, realizing Sukuna had taken your request the entirely wrong way. “What-? Nononono- I don’t want to hide you.” You quickly scramble to get the words out, and Sukuna seems surprised when you cup his jaw so lovingly. “You’re perfect. I’m trying to hide myself from you.”

Sukuna blinks a few times, taken aback by your admission. “Why would you punish me that way?” He asks, not able to fathom why you would hide the most perfect thing he’s ever seen from him.

You’re rendered completely silent. Truthfully, you know why you don’t want him seeing you naked. You’ve seen the sight before… the purple and blue stretch marks that litter your lower tummy and inner thighs. You don’t want to tell him what’s making you so shy to the idea because then he’ll only notice it more. Plus, anytime you’re honest with yourself about the insecure thoughts, it feels like you’re one of those girls who fish for compliments.

Sukuna, while not very emotionally intelligent, is able to see the emotional turmoil you’re going through. His hands slowly move from your hips to your cheeks, and he holds your face to maintain eye contact with you.

“Do you know how long I’ve been alive?” He asks. His tone is warm and even. His red ochre eyes resting upon yours.

“No, I don’t.” You answer truthfully. You knew he was immortal, and he had lived a long life already. You just didn’t know how long that was.

His thumb tenderly strokes your cheek as he admires you. “I’m older than soap.” He quietly laughs. “I promise you… I have seen some things that you couldn’t fathom. Across all my time on this horrible planet, I have been with curses and mortals alike, and trust me mortal women put curses to shame when it comes to what’s downstairs.”

You let out an appreciative laugh, easing up in his lap. His lips crack into a small smile — glad he’s able to provide you with some comfort.

His hands engulf your cheeks. “You are the prettiest thing these hands have ever touched. Nothing about you could turn my gaze away. You have my word.”

“Besides, I think you may be a bit more put off by what my clothes are hiding.” He adds, piquing your curiosity.

“Oh? Is that right?” You ask with a cheeky smile that makes Sukuna’s chest feel all warm.

“If you’d like..” His voice feels like velvet across your skin. He speaks in a purr. “I can show you.”

Your mind goes completely blank, but you nod slowly, encouraged by his words. His lips reconnect with your neck, kissing right below your ear, and he moves his hands to your hips, guiding your movements to slowly grind against him.

You’re able to feel just how well endowed he is through the thin fabric of your leggings and panties. Every inch slides against you — rubbing and bumping against you in just the right way.

It quickly derails into another needy makeout session — as if you two are horny teenagers chasing each other’s lips.

This time, Sukuna undoes his own robes first. His philosophy is that once you see that he has two cocks instead of one, you’ll feel comfortable enough showing whatever you’re so afraid of.

Your eyes widen, and your head tilts a bit, causing Sukuna to chuckle. “Told ya I would win.” He smirked proudly.

“How am I…?” Your voice trailed off, not even knowing what to say — too embarrassed to ask how you’re suppose to take all that.

“Slowly and with a lot of prep.” He gives you a toothy grin, showing off his fangs. “Now…” His hands slowly dipped back down to your hips and the waistband of your leggings.

You tense up involuntarily, but you nod slowly, giving him permission. Sukuna lifts you off his lap, and he carefully lies you on your back against his bed — treating you like you’re fragile.

Once your leggings are discarded, your eyes avoid his — too scared of what he’d might think. You don’t even look down to see what you look like in this position, knowing you’d just end up turning yourself off if you saw the marks on your thighs and tummy.

Sukuna’s eyes rest upon your pretty cotton panties that are soaked and sticking to your cunt. His mouth waters from the sight, and he tests his luck, slowly removing your panties from your body.

Your pussy looks even more delicious than he could’ve imagined. His cock literally twitches from the sight before he gets on his knees at the edge of the bed, and he pulls you by your hips down to where he can get a good smell of your arousal.

He groans from your scent, imagining just what you’re going to taste like on his tongue. He wonders if you’re more of a moaner or a crier, but he snaps his thoughts back to your earlier hesitancy.

“What was there to be nervous about, princess?” He asks as his fingers can’t resist touching you. He teases your clit gently as he waits for an answer.

“I-“ You stifle a small whimper as you feel his fingers graze against you gently. After a beat of silence, you finally speak back up again. “It’s just… the stretch marks.” You mumble quietly.

Sukuna furrows his brow, and he looks down to where your inner thighs are, and he looks at your tummy. “What about them?” He bluntly asks.

You shift uncomfortably, wishing you could wipe his memory of it entirely. “I just don’t like how they look is all.”

Sukuna’s thumb slowly applies pressure to your clit, and he starts to rub in loose circles. “That’s stupid. Everyone has them.” He replies bluntly, his more rough around the edges nature coming out as he listened to you.

A small muffled whine comes from your lips, and you arch your back as you feel his ministrations. “What?” You ask, not able to grasp what he’s saying.

Sukuna smirks as he sees you start to lose track of the conversation. He leans into your cunt before letting out a warm puff of air from his mouth. He loves watching how your entrance tries to clench around nothing. It’s cute seeing how your soaking wet pussy thinks it’ ready for him.

“I said that’s dumb. Everyone had stretch marks. It’s a part of growth.” He reasserts as he looks back up at you.

“You clearly haven’t seen girls on the internet.” You mutter, but your attitude is quickly dispelled whenever Sukuna lightly spanks your cunt, causing for a wet slapping noise.

“No. I haven’t. I have no interest in looking at something fake.” His eyes glare at you before he leans in and gives your swollen clit a kiss. His tongue darts out, and he laps at your puffy folds. A groan escapes from his mouth from your taste, gently vibrating against your cunt before pulling away and returning his thumb to your clit. “There’s no reason to be embarrassed over such trivial things. The marks just show that you have grown, and everyone grows. That’s it.”

You try to think of a rebuttal, but your mind is so cloudy with lust that you can’t think of one. Your hips lift from the bed with a small whine — no longer wishing to focus on your insecurities. You even look down, not caring if you’re going to see the stretch marks. Your eyes meet his, and you give him a pitiful gaze.

Sukuna instantly chuckles as he knows what you’re wanting. “We’ll come back to this, princess.” He hums before he dives back in, gently kissing and suckling on your clit. If his eyes weren’t closed, he’s sure they’d roll back into his head from how sweet you taste.

When he feels your hands grabbing onto his hair, he lets out a small smug laugh before lapping at your cunt with his tongue. The wet sticky noises fill the room along with your moans and whines.

Sukuna begins to wish that he was blessed with two tongues like he was given two of every thing else, and that’s when he remembers…

His mouth is focused on your clit, licking, swirling his tongue around, gently kissing. He brings his hand below his jaw, and he presses it against your opening.

You’re briefly confused, but you don’t question him since he’s making you feel this damn good with his mouth. Your confusion is quickly whisked away when you feel a second tongue delving deep inside you.

“Fuck-!” You moan before quickly jerking your hips up, but his other set of hands holds your waist down while he enjoys his meal.

Sukuna’s such a genius. With this technique, he can make you feel twice as good, which means you get twice as wet.

His tongues work together, lapping and plunging to drink the most nectar from you. Your poor thighs are already shaking, and you’re a squirmy thing when you’re getting close.

Sukuna doesn’t seem to mind though. He’s so lost in your perfect cunt that anything besides the word “stop” would fly right over his head.

“K-Kuna… mmnnf! I’m gonna…. ah, gonna cum.” You warn, feeling that pit tightening in your stomach. He pulls you down onto his mouths harder, frantically devouring you as he hasn’t had his fill yet.

“Cum for me.” His words are deep and raw with desire. He pulses his hand tongue in and out of you quickly until he feels the way your sloppy walls constrict around him, making small squelching noises as you find your orgasm.

“Fuck-! Shiiiit~” You whine as your hips try to lift up, trying to escape all of the stimulation.

“Thaaat’s it.” He purrs as he watches his hand mouth do all the work. His chin is absolutely covered in your juices but he doesn’t seem to mind.

When your body relaxes, and you’re panting against his bed, Sukuna promptly removes his hand mouth before plunging two fingers deep inside your wet heat.

His fingers are so thick and long. He’s literally a monster. Taking two of his fingers is like taking four of your own. The stretch burns but in the best way possible.

“Ah-! W-wait.. too much!” You whimper, leaning your head back with a quiet hiss.

“Really? I think you can handle it.” Sukuna taunts with a small smirk before carefully pumping his fingers in and out. Your pussy is still so soaked, fluttering around his fingers to cause wet mushy noises. “I’d say she’s enjoying it.” He adds with a smug grin, referring to how noisy your cunt is.

You squeeze your eyes shut as you try to cope with how sensitive you are right after finishing so hard on his hand and mouth, but your eyes snap right back open when you feel his oversized palm grab onto your chin.

“Ah, ah, I want you to look at me, pretty girl.” He teases with a toothy grin. “Look at who you’re letting get you off.”

“Fuck..” You whimper as you try to lean up to kiss him, but Sukuna leans back and rejects you. He’s still such an asshole.

“You’re not getting out of looking at me.” His fingers start to piston harder, curling upwards until his bumps against that special spot that makes you see stars.

Your eyes cross as you grab at the sheets. No one had ever made you feel this good, not even you could when you touch yourself.

Sukuna’s just content drawing orgasm after orgasm. He loves watching you let go of all that worry you had, letting you focus on some of your most primal desires, and it does things to him knowing that you’re comfortable to do this with him — comfortable letting him see this side of you.

His cocks are still rock hard, pressed against his stomach as he feels how tight you are wrapped around his fingers. “You’re going to feel so good wrapped around my cock.” His voice is a low growl, fingering you harder as he thinks about what it’s going to be like to finally fuck you.

Your pussy is sobbing all over his fingers, damn near coating his hand in your arousal. He’s bullying your g-spot again and again, fucking directly into it to make you whine and cry out in pleasure.

“Yeah? You like that idea? How badly do you want me to fuck you?” He taunts, feeling the way your walls are constricting around his fingers. He can tell you’re getting close again.

“F-fuck!” You gasp, throwing your head back against the mattress. Your skin feels like it’s vibrating as your pleasure starts to build once more.

“That’s not an answer.” Sukuna’s other hand swats at your bottom, causing for a slapping noise to echo in rhe room.

“Badly! B-badly… please fuck me. Please!” You whine as you’re on the brink of an orgasm.

Sukuna’s fast. He removes his fingers, but before you have time to react, one of his cocks is sliding in, replacing that empty feeling.

Even with all that prep, it’s a tight squeeze, making even Sukuna growl. “Fuck. How can you be this tight?” His hands grab onto your hips as he buries himself to the hilt.

Your back is arching off the bed, letting out silent screams that come out as whiny mewls. The stretch is unlike anything you’ve ever felt before. Your spongy walls start to clench around him, pulsing as another orgasm is pulled from you.

Sukuna’s stuck in an awkward position as he’s too tall to fuck like this, besides he doesn’t want to move to ruin your orgasm, so he stays leaning over you as your body comes undone beneath him.

“Beautiful.” He groans, admiring your raw beauty as you cum on his cock. He’s truly never seen anything like it. You’re such a beautiful mess.

Your breath is shaky as you slowly come down. Sukuna sits patiently waiting for you to calm. His hips are beckoning to move, but he sits still, letting you get use to the feeling of being so full.

“Ah… hah.. fuck.. s’kuna..” Your voice is breathy, filled with utter need that makes his cock twitch inside you.

“Up you go.” He murmurs as he wraps his monstrous arms around you, lifting your body with absolute ease. He’s able to maintain full control over your body as he eases you down onto his cock carefully.

Your body is shaky, and covered in a sheen of sweat as you wrap your arms around his neck, hugging his body to yours closely. You two are connected in every way.

His lips press sweet kisses to your cheek and neck, gently nipping at your skin to give him something to focus on so he doesn’t absolutely ruin your cunt immediately.

It doesn’t take long before you’re squirming in his arms, trying to get whatever friction you can out of him. He chuckles lowly, “Careful princess. Don’t hurt yourself.” He purrs directly into your ear, breath brushing against you.

He slowly picks you up, until just his tip remained inside, plugging your tight cunt before he lowers you back down onto him like you weigh nothing.

“Mmm fuck… such a perfect cunt.” He growls before picking you up once more and lowering you back down. He loves the way your soft body feels against his, and you’re so warm. It’s unlike anything he’s ever experienced before.

“Goood girl..” He praises in a soft whisper. He’s not use to giving out compliments still… but he’s getting better. He’s been learning by watching your reactions, and this is by far the one that makes you blush the most.

“Mmph~ Kuna… so deep..” You whimper into his neck. He continues to move you up and down his cock, using you like a perfect little fleshlight.

The sound of wet squelches and clapping stays consistent throughout the room, and his other cock throbs from neglect - a pearl of pre-cum leaking out.

“Gotta give both of them attention, baby. I’m greedy.” He growls before slides all the way out of you, and he pushes his other cock inside instead.

They feel almost identical, except with different curvature. He was a little more forceful now, jerking your body up and down his length aggressively.

Your clit rubs against his pelvis, creating for the perfect friction. You grip at his shoulders, squeezing your eyes shut as it’s all just so much.

Your thighs were trembling, and you let out every cry of pleasure that bubbled in your throat. No way to try to gain any control in this situation — you’re forced to just take it and cope with the stimulation.

Sukuna grunts and growls with each thrust. One of his other hands that aren’t holding you up reaches up to grasp your hair, and he pulls it back — forcing you to look him in the eye while he fills you so full again and again.

Your mewls and cries only fuel the more primal side to him. His mind is cloudy — chasing that high, wanting to spill himself so deep inside you that you feel him for days to come.

He yanks your hips up, and he takes a moment before he carefully sinks you back down on both his cocks. Both of them are slick from your arousal, but you’re still so tight.

“S’kuna~! Wait- nnngh… fuck I can’t!” You cry out, holding his gaze with bleary eyes from overstimulated tears.

“Shhh.. you can take it.” He mumbles lowly. “You wanna make me proud, don’t you? Take it…”

It feels like he’s splitting you apart while he tries to push deeper. Your entire body is trembling against him, let out pained whimpers as well as pleasurable cries because the stretch feels so good.

He gives your poor cunt just a moment to adjust before he starts bouncing you along both his cocks. The way your drooling cunt clenches around him, smushing his cocks together while he ruts upwards into you, making him grunt with pleasure.

You’re a whimpering mess in his arms, already embarrassingly close to your third orgasm while both his cocks are kissing your cervix so deeply — both leaking with an unnatural amount of pre-cum to make sure your pussy stays nice and lubricated for them.

His hand pulls your hair again, forcing your eyes back up at him. “Look at me.” He growls in a demanding tone, “Look at me while I breed this cunt.”

All 5 of his red eyes focus on you — completely enamored by your beauty. Lost in the haze and heat, only a couple words could fall from his lips. “So pretty…”

As if on cue, he feels your gummy walls squeeze around him, and tears fall from your eyes as your brought into another soul-crashing orgasm. His hands continue to bounce you up and down, riding you through your orgasm before he pushes himself in so deep. He swears he can feel your womb.

Both of his cocks pulse inside you, pumping your abused cunt so full of cum that it seeps from the edges of your entrance while he’s still plugging you.

“Oh gods-! F-fuck…” You whimper as it’s so hot. Like, it’s genuinely so warm in your pussy — you’re almost worried. “Why..” You manage to pant out, trying to ask him why it feels like that.

“Shh.. shh.. I have no explanation for you, princess. It just feels that way.” He speaks lowly as he slowly sits on the bed, still holding your body in his lap.

He presses a tender kiss to your forehead, and he feels your heart beat against his flesh. As he holds you to him, he wonders that if he had a heart, would it be in sync with yours? Would you two beat as one?

[penascigarette]

smooth operator ch 2. this bitch bites

Joel Miller x f!phone sex worker

➴wc: 7k | summary: you accidentally send a picture of yourself to joel which results in a video call

➴warnings: mdni, fxm phone sex, m&f masturbation, dirty talk

➴an: hi! tysm to everyone for all the love on the first part of this silly little series. I've been having so much fun writing and interacting with everyone. y'all are the best. feel free to come scream with me about this or anything <333

masterlist | series masterlist

For the rest of the night, your mind plays your conversation with Joel on repeat.

Elliot is asleep when you barge into his room, itching to share your dirty little secret. His limbs are sprawled like a starfish, his mouth hanging open, a light snore escaping him. He looks so peaceful that you decide against waking him. Instead, you sneak back to your room, feeling as if you'll explode if you don't tell someone soon. You’re a talker, and keeping this bottled up feels like pure torture.

Blowing a breath out, you stare up at the ceiling. How you feel isn’t easy to explain.

Your body is more satisfied than it’s been in a long time, aching for more.

Your heart agrees, thrilled at the thought of a forbidden relationship with this sexy, mysterious man. It hasn’t felt much since your last boyfriend—only pain and disappointment.

Your head, though, is another story. It reminds you how much trouble you could get into. Jane has a strict no-relationships rule between workers and clients, fearing the temptation to give free "sessions" or show favoritism. She’s all business, no play.

Dread swirls in your stomach. What you’ve done is dangerous, even if it was ridiculously mind-blowing. Joel wants a repeat; if you deny him, he could tell Jane.

You could always deny it… say it was just part of the act.

But your heart hates that thought. Even considering letting Joel down makes it ache as if you’ve already done it. How can you feel so much for someone after one phone call?

Because it’s exciting, the bad girl in you whispers.

You’ll get into trouble, your rational side argues, but it’s outnumbered.

Think about how amazing he made you feel, your body chimes in, tingling in remembrance. You came harder than ever, and he didn’t even touch you.

“God,” you groan, pressing your palms into your eyes until they hurt and you see funny lights. “I need sleep.” With no way to figure it out on your own, you know you need Elliot. For now, you push the thoughts away and try to rest.

Before you open your eyes, you know you’ve woken up ridiculously early. Something feels different—a sensation you can’t quite place.

You don’t have the cozy, half-asleep feeling you usually enjoy. The blankets aren’t warm or soft enough, and you’re itching to get up and do something. So, you throw the covers off, get dressed, and spend extra time on your hair and makeup. The effort gives you a bounce in your step, though the knot of unease in your gut remains.

Grabbing your phone, you head to the bathroom, use the toilet, and brush your teeth. There’s no noise from Elliot’s room—you doubt he’ll wake up for another hour. You go downstairs instead.

The kettle is still full from yesterday, so you flick it on and get your coffee ready. You debate making breakfast but decide against it—eating without Elliot feels wrong.

Less than a minute later, the water boils. You pour it into your mug, watching the steam rise before curling up on the sofa.

Being awake this early makes you feel like you could get so much done. Maybe you’ll work out after coffee, or tidy up and throw out the takeaway boxes before more clutter piles up. 

But your mind drifts back to Joel. You wonder about his morning routine. Does he put effort into his appearance because he’s good with women? You imagine him with a six-pack… God, you hope he has one.

No, stop, you think, shaking your head. What does it matter? But the thought of him only makes your fantasies steamier.

Your plans are forgotten, and you spend an hour imagining every inch of him. You don’t even notice your coffee going cold until Elliot flops onto the sofa beside you.

“There you are,” he says groggily, rubbing his eyes. “Ooh, you made coffee.” Without asking, he takes your mug, grimacing after a sip. “This is cold. How long have you been sitting here?”

“About an hour,” you admit with a shrug.

“Oh.” His brows lift. “How come, honey?” Concern laces his tone.

“I have something to tell you.” Finally, the words spill out, and you shift to face him.

“Did you finally shave your legs?” he asks, deadpan, taking another sip of coffee.

“Shut up. It hasn’t been that long, okay? This is serious.”

“Fine.” He smirks. “Go on.”

“I had phone sex last night.”

His brow furrows. “Sweetie, phone sex is your job. Are you feeling okay?” He places a hand on your forehead.

You roll your eyes, batting his hand away. “Not like that! I got off with him.”

Elliot’s jaw drops. “You… you flicked your bean to a client?”

Guiltily, you nod. “In my defense, he has the sexiest voice I’ve ever heard. And he’s amazing at talking dirty. Better than me!”

“Really?” Elliot’s skepticism is written all over his face.

You nod, leaning closer. “He said things like… ‘spread yourself open’ and ‘you’re such a good girl for me.’ He even told me to force my clit out of its hood! Most guys don’t even know what a that is!”

Elliot blinks, grabbing a cushion to cover his lap. “I completely understand.”

You laugh, though the thought of getting in trouble dampens your mood.

Elliot waves dismissively. “Just don’t tell anyone. I won’t either. In fact, I expect details from future calls.”

You snort. "I don't know if there will be any more."

He looks at you like you've grown another head. "Why?"

"Because I don't want to get in trouble for this," you admit, biting your lip for a moment. "Even if it was incredible."

"You won't get into trouble." He sounds so sure. "Seriously. I may or may not...have done the same thing. More than once," he mumbles the last part.

"What!?" you exclaim, wondering how the hell you're only just hearing about this. "Why haven't you told me?" You poke your bottom lip out at him. "You're keeping a lot of secrets from me lately."

He pinches your lip between his thumb and forefinger, forcing you to pull it back into your mouth. "I didn't think it was that big of a deal. I don't tell you every time I jack off to porn, now do I? As for my date with Danny, I told you as soon as I had the balls to."

"But it is a huge deal," you argue.

"Yeah, to you, but...you're a bit of a prude."

"I am not. How can you be a prude when you work as a phone sex operator?”

"You are," he teases lightly. "When you had that one-night stand after you and Ben broke up, you cried for three days."

Your shoulders slump, and you mumble, "I was ashamed."

"Well, you shouldn't be," he says firmly. "There's nothing to be ashamed of. Sex is beautiful. And fun."

"That's easy for you to say," you point out. "You're a man. Women get labeled and judged." And oh boy, do you hate being judged. It's why you don't tell people what you do for a living.

He softens at that. "You shouldn't be so worried about what people think of you. You only live once."

"I know," you mumble, not knowing what to say to that. Because it's true—you shouldn't be so concerned about others' thoughts of you—but it's not something you can just switch off. You change the subject. "So tell me about the times you've...you know." You know it’ll make you feel better.

"Well," he licks his lips and puts one hand on the back of the sofa while the other holds his coffee. "The first time, I can't even remember his name. He called when I was in the middle of getting off, and we ended up getting off together with my porno playing."

You both laugh at that.

"The second time," he continues, a certain fondness in his tone. "Was this guy called 'K.' I don't know why. There was just this... attraction, and we did it. Then it just became this thing."

You frown in confusion. "A thing? Does that mean you still do it?"

"Yep," he pops the 'p' with a grin. "He doesn't call very often, though."

"I can't believe..." you break into a breathless chuckle because here you are, worrying your ass off, and it's actually no big deal. Well, as long as Jane doesn't find out. "This is crazy."

"Maybe," Elliot shrugs and then wiggles his eyebrows. "But isn't it so much more fun that way?"

You have to agree.

___________

That night, you find yourself itching for Joel 's call. You’ve even stripped yourself naked in preparation. If that’s not eager, you don’t know what is.

Every time your phone rings, your heart leaps into your throat. It's ridiculous to act like this because of a man you don’t even know, but for some mysterious reason, he's caught your attention, and you're not letting him go anytime soon.

When it turns out it’s not him on the other end of the line, you find yourself entertaining the idea that he lied when he said he’d call again tonight. Maybe he only said it to keep you happy, or he hadn’t known what else to say.

Although he seemed interested. Interested enough to ask for your real name...you’re not counting him out quite yet. The night isn't over.

It takes another two phone calls before his name finally flashes on your screen.

Almost immediately, your stomach twists with excitement, and an ache starts to form between your legs. You're nervous but in a good way. It reminds you of the very first time you had phone sex with a client. When you manage to calm yourself down, you answer the phone, trying to sound as casual as possible.

"Hey, you." Does that sound okay? You hope so.

"Hey," he greets, his voice wobbling just a little. Maybe he feels the same way you do. "How've you been?"

You blink, momentarily stunned. Did he really just ask that? None of your clients ever ask how you’re doing. Not that you’re complaining—it’s nice to be treated like an actual human being instead of just a way to get off.

"I'm great," you say honestly. "What about you?"

"Much better now," he replies, and you bite the corner of your lip to keep a goofy smile from breaking through. "I have to say, I've been thinking about you all damn day. Do you have any idea how hard it is to walk around with a near-constant boner?"

You’re already gushing down below. Squeezing your thighs shut at the image he’s planted in your mind, you reply breathlessly, "Can't say I have, but I know what it's like walking around with a fountain in your panties all day long."

His laugh is dark. "A fountain? Sounds like someone's been thinking naughty thoughts."

 "More than one, actually."

"Mm," he hums in approval. You hear rustling in the background as if he’s settling in. "Tell me one of them."

There are so many to choose from, but one stands out. "Okay," you say, licking your lips. "But you can't laugh, okay?"

"I wouldn't dare," he assures, though you can hear the amusement in his voice.

"Right." You take a deep breath. "So... it's a student-teacher fantasy."

"Ah," he responds knowingly.

"Yeah, so, you're the teacher, and I'm the student." Christ, you can’t believe you’re actually saying this. It feels stupid and embarrassing—so much easier to talk about other people’s fantasies than your own. "I have detention, and it’s just you and me in the classroom. You’re looking over schoolwork, and since you’re distracted, I decide to, you know."

"Say it." It’s a command, and the increase in his breathing tells you this is getting him just as hot as it gets you.

"I play with my pussy," you admit, scraping your teeth along your bottom lip. "I slip my hand down my panties, find my clit, pinch it, and rub it. I hold back my moans because I don’t want you to hear." Without realizing it, your eyes shut, and your hands wander down your body, acting out the fantasy. You’re already wet—so wet it surprises you, soaking your thighs and dampening the sheets.

"Fuck," he draws the word out. "You think you’re being quiet, but you’re not, Princess. And your pussy’s so fucking wet I can smell it from my desk."

"God," you choke out, your breath hitching. "I don’t care that you know. I’m too close—I don’t even care if you see." You’re not lying; you’re so close, but not ready to finish yet. Leaving your clit alone for a moment, you slide two fingers inside yourself—they glide in easily. "In fact, I move further down the chair and spread my legs so you can see what I’m doing."

Both of you are worked up now. You hear him stroking himself hard in the background.

He growls dangerously. "I know exactly what you want, Princess. I come over to you, throw the table out of my way, and sink to my knees. You’re so fucking wet I can see everything through your white panties. It’s clinging to your slit and your poor swollen clit."

"God."

"My whole mouth slots over your creaming cunt, and I suck the sweet juices through your panties."

Your pussy clenches hard around your fingers. "Jesus Christ. You’re so good." Your hand is practically swimming in your own cum.

"Your hard little nub doesn’t stand a chance against my tongue, and I have you gushing into my mouth in under ten seconds."

You have no self-control. You don’t want to come yet, but your hand has a mind of its own. Before you know it, you’re going over the edge.

"Ohmygod, Joel !" you squeak embarrassingly, thighs shaking around your hand as you rock your hips, trying to prolong the sensation.

"Did you come?" he asks, both amused and proud.

"You didn’t give me much choice," you reply weakly, tiny waves of pleasure still coursing through you as your hand lingers.

"Hey, I’m not complaining, trust me," he says. "The sounds you make when you come are heaven, baby."

You blow a stray piece of hair off your face and finally pull your fingers out. "Have you come? Do you want to keep going?" you ask. "I didn’t even get to the part where I give you an epic blowjob."

"Please, by all means, continue."

You grin. "All right. So after that mind-blowing orgasm, I kiss you so I can taste myself on your lips."

"Fuck, that’s hot, Princess." You hear him stroke himself faster.

"And I grab your tie, walking you back to your desk. I make you sit down." The thought of touching him excites you all over again, and you circle a nipple with one finger. "I kneel between your thighs and unzip your pants. Your dick is so hard it’s leaking pre-cum through your underwear." God, you’re desperate to taste it. You tell him that, too.

"Keep going," he orders, his voice strained.

You do. "I lick the fabric, but it’s not enough. I grab your cock and bring it to my lips. God, you’re fucking delicious. I rub the head all over my lips, needing to taste more of your cum." Shamefully, you mean every word.

"I’m so close, Princess," he groans, his pace quickening. "Just a little more."

"I take you into my wet, warm mouth. You’re so big and hard I can barely fit my lips around you. I hollow my cheeks and suck like I would a lollipop, my tongue stroking underneath your shaft. I can feel you getting close because you start pulsing in my mouth. I go faster, wanting to feel you spill down my throat."

He finally releases with a harsh moan. "Damn, Princess."

You blurt out your name correcting him before you can stop yourself.

He’s still catching his breath. "What was that?"

You repeat your name, unsure if this is a good idea but knowing it’s too late to turn back. "It’s my name."

He repeats it smoothly, the name rolling off his tongue. "Pretty name for a pretty girl."

You scoff, rolling your eyes to stop yourself from smiling. "You don’t know if I’m pretty or not."

"I don’t have to see you to know you’re beautiful."

His words touch you, but you doubt he’s worked all this out after just two phone calls. You humor him anyway. "That’s sweet of you to say."

"I better get going. Gotta get up for work in the morning," he says with a genuine yawn.

"Oh?" you ask, curiosity piqued. "What do you do?"

"I’m a fireman."

Your eyes widen, and you instantly regret asking. Now you’ll be up all night fantasizing about him in uniform. "Oh god, that’s sexy," you blurt out.

"I’m glad you think so," he chuckles. "Maybe we can work it into our role-play tomorrow?"

"That’s a fantastic idea," you agree eagerly.

"All right," he laughs. "Seriously, I gotta go. Sweet dreams princess."

"Yeah," you reply, already looking forward to the next conversation. "You too, Joel."

__________________

"Tell me how big you are," you demand lightly, still tingling blissfully from your orgasm. You finally remove your hand from between your legs and use your damp fingers to trace circles around your hard nipples.

Joel laughs, the sound a mixture of arousal and embarrassment. "It's probably going to sound like I'm bullshitting, but... seven and a half inches."

You decide to believe him. Sure, he could very well be lying—lots of guys do. Practically every man you talk to claims to have a big dick. It’s all part of the fantasy. But Joel feels different. "Wow... that's huge."

Your body responds instinctively, a clench of anticipation as you imagine how full he could make you feel.

"Yeah... well, I've had no complaints," he says, sounding both bashful and proud.

"You sure?" you tease. "I bet there have been a few comments about you being too big or going too deep."

He laughs again. "When I was younger, yeah, but I learned pretty quickly that every woman is different. I like to get a feel for her using my fingers first, see how much she can handle."

You can’t help it; a vivid image of his fingers working you over, his muscular arm straining against your thigh as he tests your limits, flashes in your mind. Jesus, you could come again just from that thought. You stumble out a response. "Oh, I, uh... yeah, that’s good of you."

"Only fair. They're lettin' me have sex with them, least I can do is make sure they damn well enjoy it."

What a gentleman, you think. How many men actually care if a woman is enjoying herself? In your experience, they get off without a second thought for you.

"I wish more men were like you," you tell him honestly.

"Well... I wish more women were like you."

That catches you off guard. "Really? In what way?"

"I don’t know... you’re just so open. Sexually, I mean. You’re not afraid to tell me what you like. You’ve got a great laugh, too. And you’re so damn easy to talk to. I feel like I could tell you everything."

The words make your heart flutter. Compliments from clients are nothing new, but they usually run along the lines of, "You’re so good at talking dirty," or, "You made me come so hard." None of them are as sweet or genuine as what Joel just said.

And none of them make you think about how easily you could fall for him.

As soon as the thought enters your mind, you push it away. How ridiculous. There’s no way you should be falling for a man you’ve never met. You don’t even know what he looks like. Having a crush is one thing, but love? God, I’m turning into one of those women who fall for anyone just because they say the right things.

And the saddest part? You’re pretty sure Joel isn’t even trying.

"Princess? You still there?"

His voice pulls you from your spiral. You don’t know how long you’ve been silent, but the realization is both embarrassing and unprofessional. You’re wasting his time—and his money.

"Sorry, Joel," you apologize. "I totally zoned out. I -I’ll refund you for the call."

"Don’t worry about that," he says quickly. "Please, be honest with me. Did I make you uncomfortable? I didn’t mean to overstep—"

Oh, god, he’s so sweet. You cut him off. "No, no! I swear, you didn’t. I was just... surprised, that’s all," you reassure him. "I really appreciate it. And... I feel the same way." You bite your lip. You hadn’t meant to reveal so much, but the words tumble out before you can stop them. "I feel like... I’ve known you forever."

"I’m glad," he says, relief evident in his tone. "Was worried I’d freaked you out."

"Not at all," you reply with a soft smile.

The conversation settles into a comfortable silence. The reality of your situation dawns on you: You’re discussing feelings—real feelings—with a client. A man you’ve never met. You don’t know his last name. It’s been, what, a week?

But you want to know him. Desperately. Maybe you’re crazy. Maybe you’re just lonely. Or maybe you need something deeper than the physical connection you’re used to.

The sound of a beeping line breaks the moment. "Damn it," Joel curses. "They need me at work. I’ve got to go."

Immediately, you feel a pang of guilt. He didn’t even get to finish. "Listen," you say impulsively, "I’m going to text you my personal number, okay? When you have a chance, call me, and we’ll finish what we started."

There’s a pause. "Wow," he says finally. "That would be amazing. I could text you throughout the day, too... only if you want, of course. Don’t wanna cross any boundaries."

If anything, it's you crossing boundaries. “I’d love that." You respond honestly, your heart fluttering and a fuzzy feeling settles in your belly. You really like him, don't you? Crap.

He chuckles, and you can almost hear his grin. "Good."

—-------‐

How'd the baking go? You still alive?

You breathe out a laugh as you open and read Joel's text. It's been about a week since you gave him your number, and you haven't regretted it for a second.

Like shit, I can't have cooked it long enough because it was still gooey in the middle. But we're all still alive...for now. 

You send the text before glancing over at the modeling shoot, which is now where your living room used to be. White material hangs from metal frames, creating a backdrop for the pictures. Standing lights are positioned opposite. The photographer your mom hired is here, and your house is his studio.

Elliot is currently looking through the outfits he and your mom spent all of yesterday shopping for, now hung from a clothes rail. Some of them are latex and kinky as hell, others flimsy and revealing.

Your mom is busy pulling on a gray mini skirt. She’s already wearing stockings, a white, revealing blouse, and a tight gray blazer that cuts off at the elbows. You know she has a pair of glasses to complete her sexy secretary look. All she needs is a messy updo, and she’ll be ready to go.

You have to admit, the fake breasts she bought five years ago look fantastic in that shirt. You’re almost jealous. They look better than yours.

Elliot, meanwhile, is shirtless, with a pair of leather pants covering his bottom half. He looks amazing. His hair is messy, like he just had sex, and he’s debating with your mom whether or not he should use some eyeliner to make himself look darker and more mysterious.

You remain firm in your decision to stay out of the photo shoot. Even though you wouldn’t have to be naked, the idea doesn’t sit well with you. People could recognize you—friends from school, old work colleagues, or that bitch who stole your favorite hair clip in swimming class when you were a teen. The thought of any of them knowing—or worse, judging—what you do for a living makes you die a little inside, even though you know in your heart it’s nothing to be ashamed of. You’re just too sensitive, you guess.

Your phone vibrates in your hand, signaling an incoming text, and you glance down at the screen, your attention no longer on the shoot. It’s Joel  again.

Ah... remind me to do all the baking if I ever work up the courage to ask you out.

Your lips part in shock before they curve slowly. He wants to ask you out? Wow… you trap your bottom lip between your teeth as you type your response.

Deal. You finding that courage any time soon?

You hesitate, then press send before locking your phone and leaning your elbows on the counter in front of you. Your eyes follow your mother’s movements as she practices poses in front of a large, stand-up mirror. You’re on kitchen duty since you’re neither a model nor a photographer, which means it’s your job to keep their coffee topped up.

“What do you think?” Elliot asks, his question floating to no one in particular as he studies himself in a small pocket-sized mirror. A black eyeliner pencil sits in his other hand.

You tilt your head, examining his eyes. One is framed in sharp black, while the other remains untouched. “Go with the eyeliner,” you say after a moment. “It matches your leather look.” You gesture toward his trousers.

Without looking up, Elliot starts lining his other eye. “Thanks, babe.”

You curl your lips in a faint reply, even though he can’t see it. Your phone buzzes again, and you quickly check the message on the screen.

I'm working on it ;)

Good. I'm looking forward to it ;)

You bite your lip, trying to hide your excitement. You don’t want your mom catching onto your texts; without a doubt, she’d know you’re talking to a guy. Then she’d question you until you gave up the goods.

A ping behind you sounds, reminding you that you were in the process of making another round of coffee. Slipping your phone into your pocket, you decide you’d better get the coffee addicts their fix.

The photo shoot ends up being a success—not that you were expecting anything different. They could have been real models, and it makes you wonder why they didn’t pursue a career in it. They’re honestly naturals.

And oh my god, your mom—you’re laughing now—manages to get a date with the photographer. He has to be about ten years younger than her. Not that it stops him, of course. You and Elliot can’t help but exchange glances and giggle knowingly when it’s your mom’s turn to be photographed. The poor guy can’t take his eyes off her.

You hope it goes well, of course, but you doubt he’ll end up being anything more than a fling. Your mom just isn’t one to settle down. Not since your dad walked out when you were a baby and left her with a broken heart. You think she lost her faith in men after that.

Not that your experience with men is much better. Your ex was an asshole who killed your confidence and then cheated on you with someone you had considered your best friend at the time. Pretty clichéd, you know. But unlike your mom, you still have hope that a Prince Charming will come along and sweep you off your feet.

And just maybe, that Prince could be Joel.

Yes, okay, it was still early days to be thinking like that but sometimes...you just know, you know? There’s a fluttering in your stomach—a warmth, a feeling of pure happiness, safety, and understanding. It’s not the same as those first-date butterflies you had with your ex, when everything was exciting and new. No, this is something different, something deeper. You can’t quite explain how—it just is.

"Hey, you’ve got a package down here!" Elliot sing-songs from downstairs, pulling you out of your thoughts.

A package? What could it—Oh! You remember the top you ordered online and let out an excited squeal. Quickly, you step out of the shower. You were finished in there anyway.

"Coming!" you call down to Elliot, quickly drying yourself off and slipping into your plain black bra and underwear. You rub the towel through your hair, barely giving a thought to your state of undress as you head downstairs. Elliot wouldn’t care, anyway.

As you step into the room, Elliot whistles from the sofa, his legs tucked underneath him and one arm draped along the back. “Looking hot, girl!” he teases, flashing you a playful grin.

“Thanks, babe.” You lean over the back of the sofa and snag the package from his lap. Tearing open the grey plastic bag, you start digging through it eagerly.

“What’d you get?” Elliot asks, his curiosity piqued.

“Remember that top I showed you and Julie? The white one with ‘This Bitch Bites!’ written on the front?” Your fingers brush soft material, and you pull it free with a triumphant grin. Tossing the plastic to the floor, you hold the top up to admire it.

Elliot throws his head back in laughter. “You didn’t!”

“Oh, I did.” You flip the shirt around, showing it off with a dramatic flourish.

Elliot gasps as if it’s the most magnificent thing he’s ever seen. “I fucking love it! Do they have it in my size?” He reaches out to pinch the fabric between his fingers, giving it an approving nod. “Ooh, I like the material, too.”

“Yeah, I think so,” you say, gathering the shirt in your hands and pulling it over your head. You smooth it down and strike a pose, hands on your hips. “What do you think?”

 "Your boobs look awesome in that." Elliot nods approvingly. "Oh! Gimme your phone. I'll take a pic, and you can send it to Julie. I bet she'll wanna see it." He holds out his hand, wiggling his fingers expectantly.

You instinctively reach for your pockets, but your fingers brush against bare skin, reminding you that your clothes—and your phone—are upstairs. "I'll go get it," you say, heading off.

After sending the picture, you grab a quick snack before making your way back upstairs. Your hair is still damp from the shower, and you know you need to dry it before it starts frizzing.

You sit at your dresser, plug in your hair dryer, and get ready to turn it on when your phone vibrates with an incoming message. Setting the dryer down, you pick up your phone to check the text.

Damn, I hope she does, was the response, leaving you confused. 

Julie doesn’t text like that. You know how she is—always shortening her words until they’re barely readable, leaving you and Elliot to figure out what she actually means. And commas? Forget it. She probably doesn’t even know what one is.

You scrunch your nose, confused, your thumb hovering over the screen to text her back when another message pops up. This time, it’s from Joel.

You're fucking beautiful, by the way.

Okay, so that’s kind of creepy. How the fuck does he know what you look like? That’s when it hits you— the previous text was from Joel, not Julie like you’d assumed.

“Oh no…” you breathe, your fingers scrambling to scroll up through the conversation. And there it is. The picture Elliot took of you. You, wearing nothing but your white this bitch bites! shirt and black panties, your chest pushed forward so the writing stretches smooth across the fabric. And that picture? It’s been sent to Joel. Not Julie.

You growl out loud, “I’m going to kill Elliot,” your heart pounds like crazy. You spring to your feet, panic surging through you as you pace back and forth, trying to form a coherent thought. Did he do it on purpose? No, surely he wouldn’t—okay, yeah, he probably would. You groan loudly, covering your face with your hands before falling backward onto the bed. You land with a bounce.

And just when you think it couldn’t possibly get any worse, the realization hits you. “I’m not even wearing makeup, Elliot!” you shout, your voice full of despair.

You know you should respond to Joel, but you're way too busy freaking the hell out.

He knows what you look like. That’s bad. So very bad. Why exactly it’s bad, you’re not sure. But the black hole churning in your stomach insists it is.

He thinks you’re beautiful, a calmer part of your mind whispers blissfully. Without makeup. That part makes you ridiculously happy. But it’s still bad…right?

Gnawing on your bottom lip, you try to think clearly. So what if he knows what you look like? It’s not like he can track you down with just an image. Sure, okay, he also knows your first name, but you don’t even have social media. Good luck with that, buddy!

...Really? Come on.

You shake your head at yourself. You know Joel wouldn’t do anything like that. You’re just freaking out and thinking irrationally. He’s a good guy, and you trust him. If you didn’t, you wouldn’t have given him your real number.

Breathing in deeply, you lift your phone to your face and read his messages again.

Damn, I hope she does.

You're fucking beautiful, by the way.

This time, you allow yourself to smile, embracing the warmth that fills your stomach at his words. He’s so sweet, with just the right amount of dirty. He hopes you’re a biter... Naughty pictures flood your mind, and you squeeze your thighs together. You’d be a biter for him any day.

Your thumbs hover over the touch-screen keyboard as you consider what to respond to him. Deciding that honesty is the best policy, you go with:

Sorry about that! It was meant for my girl friend but my other friend is a total dick. I don't make a habit of sending half-naked pics to guys. I'm glad you like it though :)

A thought pops into your head, and you quickly type:

Since you've got a pic of me...maybe you'll be open to sharing one of you?

You nibble at your fingernail as you wait for his response. You hope you didn't make him uncomfortable by asking for a picture, but you honestly do want one of him. You're curious about what he could look like. You have an image of him in your head, but you dare say it wouldn't look anything like him. A few seconds later, you get a reply.

Ah, that makes sense. I did think it was a bit odd since you never mentioned anything about us exchanging pictures. I'm glad it happened, though. Maybe I should be thanking your friend ;)

Your lips curl as you get ready to send him a response when another text comes through.

Sure, you can have one of me as long as you'll excuse my appearance. It's It’s been a rough day at work, and I haven’t had a chance to shower yet. 

Again, you start typing your reply, your heart jumping into your throat at the thought of finally seeing his face when yet another text comes through. But this time, it isn’t words; it’s a picture. The picture you’ve been waiting for.

Your lips part and your heart falls back into your chest, doing a funny little dance. A slow breath escapes you as you can't tear your eyes away from the selfie he sent you.

Gorgeous doesn't even begin to describe him. whiskey-colored eyes, lips so full it almost looks like he's pouting. A day or two's worth of stubble covers his lower face.

He looks tired but still manages a small, lopsided smile for you. His hair is a mess as if he's spent a good portion of the day running his fingers through it. Full lips and dark eyes. The picture is taken directly in front, and you can see his large Adam’s apple and broad shoulders. His shirt, from what you can make out, is completely white.

“Oh my god,” you mutter in astonishment. Honestly… the guy looks like a model. You find it hard to believe someone like him needs a sex operator to get off. He must have women falling all over him. He's a firefighter for fuck’s sake. It's like every girl’s wet dream.

It makes you wonder if he's telling the truth, or if he's been lying all along and knows exactly how to draw a girl in.

Worried and paranoid, you bite your bottom lip and finally text him back.

Is that really you? Or are you screwing with me?

His reply doesn't come in the shape of a text. Instead, you get a notification about an incoming video call.

Your eyes widen, and your first instinct is to reject it. Having just gotten out of the shower, your hair is wet, and your face is make-up-free. You don’t want him to see you this way, but then you remember that he’s already seen the picture you—well, Elliot—sent him. So, you accept it. It can’t have put him off that much since he's still talking to you.

It takes a moment for the call to connect, and you bite your lip harder.

And then there he is, looking just like he did in his photo. This proves that he'd definitely just taken it moments before, and it was definitely him. You feel guilty for doubting him.

 "Wow." His full lips twist into a big smile. "Hey there, beautiful."

Your butterflies return with a vengeance, and you grin back so hard your cheeks hurt. "Hey, handsome." You know your face is burning but you don't even care. You're nervous and aren't afraid to admit it. This is a big step for both of you. Who wouldn't have some kind of nerves? The hand holding your phone up shakes slightly.

He chuckles, rubbing his fingers over his lips. "I can't believe I'm actually looking at you. It's crazy. You're so gorgeous. You're perfect."

Your entire body buzzes at his words, warmth filling you. "Coming from you? You're so fucking sexy I thought you'd sent me a fake picture!"

You both laugh, the sound full of excitement, anxiety, and amazement. "No, no. I would never do that. I'm glad you approve though, I was worried I wouldn't be your type."

You splutter, "Dude...you have to be everyone's type." The nervous laughter continues. Neither of you really knows what to say or how to react, but you can't stop looking at each other with goofy expressions. "How was your day?" you finally decide to ask, figuring that maybe a more casual conversation might help you both get over the shock.

"My day?" He was grinning still, shaking his head. "My day...this has got to be the best day of my damned life."

It’s so sweet you could almost cry. Almost sobbing with tears in your eyes, you respond, “I know the feeling.”

You’re both too overwhelmed to have a normal conversation. You stay on the phone for hours, mostly admiring each other, smiling like idiots, and commenting on your disbelief of the situation. You’re in awe of each other, that much is obvious. Time quickly flies by, and you notice Joel starts to grow more tired by the second.

"Why don’t you get some sleep?" you suggest softly, one hand tucked under your cheek as you lay on your side, snuggled up underneath your duvet. You continue to hold the phone in front of you.

He groans and rubs his eye with his knuckles. It’s adorable to see. "I should...I really, really should." His hand drops, and he focuses on the phone, flashing you a sleepy smile. "But that means hanging up...and I don’t think I’m ready to leave you yet."

You giggle quietly, feeling genuinely happy. "I know the feeling," you say. "But it's getting late, and you have work in the morning. I promise we'll talk again tomorrow night. Plus, I'll be texting you all day, you know that."

He chuckles. "Damn, I just can't get rid of you, can I?" He teases.

"Nope." You pop the 'p', grinning back. "You're stuck with me now."

He sighs dramatically. "What have I gotten myself into?" You both laugh once more. "I'm joking, of course. Who'd wanna get rid of a gorgeous girl like you?"

You hide your face in your shoulder. "Stop, you'll make me go all giddy," you warn him, half serious.

He grins. "That's not gonna make me stop, princess. You're too cute when you're all giddy."

"Oh, Joel ," you sigh lovingly before you realize what you're doing. You can't help it though. He makes you feel so good. So joyful. You can't ever remember having this feeling. It’s as if you're on top of the world.

"Darlin," he purrs back, and your belly flutters. You fall into a small silence, and for a moment, just smile at each other. It’s actually pretty cheesy.

"We should go," you whisper reluctantly.

He nods. "Yeah, you're probably right."

"Good night, handsome." Moving the hand tucked under your cheek to your mouth, you blow him a kiss.

He chuckles and acts as if he grabs it before placing it onto his lips and blowing one back to you. "Goodnight, pretty girl."

Taglist: @pedrito-is-punk7 @bitchytimetravelqueen @wh0reforbucknasty @joelsrose @justajoelsreader

@guelyury @bbyanarchist @untamedheart81 @ro-nahime-things @peepawispunk

[maxtermind]

my boy only breaks his favorite toys

★ : summary :: when he cheats on you ★ : feat :: max verstappen, lewis hamilton, carlos sainz, charles leclerc, lando norris ★ : genre :: angst ★ : word count :: 5k ★ : a/n :: please remember that all of this is fiction! anyway, enjoy the angst <3 cheating is not a slip up but a statement and i will not be writing a part 2 where they get back together :) as usual requests are open for other endings if you're interested (maybe she ends up with someone else on the grid to make it hurt more lol) ★ : gifs :: @\f1-stuff @\userhamilton @\slowestlap @\tyrannosaurus-maxy

Max Verstappen

Max and you had a pretty healthy work schedule. Thanks to your flexible remote work, you could travel with him and support him in person. But there were times when you were needed back at the home office but despite the distance, Max made sure to keep you in the loop.

From video calls, to texting whenever one was free, to random pictures shared, you were always pretty aware of what the other was doing. So imagine your shock when minutes after hanging up on a call after congratulating him on his win, you failed to get a hold of him before pictures of him started going viral.

But now, all of that seemed like a distant memory as you stared at the damning evidence on your phone. Pictures of Max, smiling and carefree, dancing with another woman in a crowded club, her arms wrapped around him possessively.

Your heart sank as you scrolled through the images, each one a painful reminder of the betrayal you never saw coming. And then, there it was, the blurry photo that confirmed your worst fears - Max and the other woman locked in a passionate kiss.

The world around you seemed to blur as well as tears welled up in your eyes, hot and bitter against your cheeks. Without thinking, you began to dial Max's number, your fingers trembling with a mixture of anger and desperation.

But each call went unanswered, each voicemail left unheard. With each unanswered ring, your heart broke a little more, until you could no longer bear the weight of your pain.

It was an hour later when you were in your bed, crying your eyes out when your phone finally lit up with Max's name, the screen casting a harsh glow in the dimness of your room.

As much as your head told you to hang up and let that be the final answer, you picked it up and whispered a low. ”Hi?” Your voice barely a whisper, choked with emotion.

”Y/N,” Max’s breathy voice came. It was enough to throw you off again and new tears gathered in your eyes.

”Where were you?” The words escaped your lips before you could stop them, raw with hurt and anguish.

”Baby…” Max's voice wavered, and you could hear the weight of his guilt in every syllable. It spoke volumes, you knew what had happened and he knew that. ”I’m so sorry, Y/N.”

Your chest tightened at his words, the pain of his deceit threatening to consume you whole. And then, without warning, a strangled sob escaped your lips, the sound echoing in the silence of the room.

You could hear Max's sharp intake of breath on the other end of the line, a sound that only served to intensify your grief. But you were beyond caring about appearances now, your heart laid bare for him to see.

”I trusted you,” you choked out between sobs, the words a bitter indictment of the love you had once shared. ”Why would you do this to me?”

How could the man that made you feel like the only girl in the world for him do this to you? Did he even love you or was he just a really good actor?

Your voice quivered with pain as you struggled to maintain your composure,”You've broken me in ways I didn't even know were possible.”

Max's voice wavered as he tried to find the right words to express his remorse,”I never meant to hurt you, it was the biggest mistake of my life.” 

The life he has made sure he spent with someone not you. His voice cracked further and you realized that he was also crying on the other end. ”I can't bear the thought of not having you in my life.”

There was a long pause, as if Max was searching for the right words to say. But what words could possibly undo the damage that had already been done, the trust that had been shattered beyond repair?

Your words cut through him, echoing the pain he had caused,”Did… did you even love me, Max?”

”Of course, I love you!” He spoke, his voice carrying a sense of hurt. As if questioning the audacity to even ask that and that angered you. It made you so mad because this was on him. He did this.

”I wish I could turn back time and make things right, I’m so sorry, Y/N.” Max's breath hitched as he spoke before you could. The wounds he had inflicted too deep to be healed with a simple apology. ”I never meant to make you doubt my love for you.”

And as you listened to his voice crack with emotion, you knew that there was only one thing left to do. ”I don't even recognize the person I fell in love with anymore.” You whispered with finality, your voice filled with a mixture of sadness and disbelief.

Was this really the man who had promised you a future filled with a family and laughter? The man who just made your heart bleed out?

Max caught on and rushed to get the words out,”Please, Y/N, don't hang up. I need you more than ever, I love y-”

You hung up because how dare he say that after what he did. He called you again and again after that and if you weren’t half dying in your apartment, maybe you could’ve scoffed at how the roles were switched.

However, all you could do was switch off your phone and wonder how the man who once kissed all your scars better, could leave deeper ones in their place. Leaving you to do the work to mend them all alone.

Lewis Hamilton

It had all started the day you had foolishly decided to set up lunch to have the two most important people in your life, your bestfriend and your boyfriend, meet.

Lewis seemed genuinely enthusiastic about finally meeting the person who had been such a solid support in your life. Little did you anticipate that this innocent gathering would unravel into a scene of deception.

The signs were subtle at first. A quick exchange of numbers, a glance shared behind your back– easy to dismiss as innocent. But why would you look for such signs? When it included your most trusted humans on the planet?

But then came the slips, the accidental mentions of knowing each other's whereabouts better than you did.

”I don't think she'll pick up, she said she had an afternoon meeti-” Lewis caught himself on time before shrugging and ending with a: ”She posted it on her instagram, did you miss it?”

You laughed it off though it irked you. You were just glad that they were close before...

After an especially tiring day, you finally entered your house. Surprised to see the sitting room empty, where Lewis waits for you every time he's home early.

You sighed, instinctively petting Roscoe before moving inside the house. Desperate for a shower and clean clothes to get the day's stench off of you.

So imagine your shock when you walked into your bedroom,to discover Lewis and Rachel entwined in your bed, their bodies exposed and vulnerable. In your bed.

It took a second for you to process it while they both scrambled to get their clothes on. You just stared in disbelief while Rachel cried on the bed under covers and Lewis frantically wore his clothes while saying… something?

You felt like you were underwater for a second because you saw his mouth moving before his words started registering and tears started to pool in your eyes. The pain felt tangible, like a weight pressing down on your chest, as you confronted the unthinkable reality of their infidelity.

”Baby, let me explain. Ple- Please, this isn't what it looks like... I-”

You tore your eyes away from him before looking over at Rachel who was crying because she probably understood exactly what was happening.

You wanted to ask what exactly Lewis thought was going on but decided not to because your throat was closing up. The image of them together was burned into your brain. You just shook your head as tears fell from your eyes before turning around and walking out of the room.

As Lewis desperately jumbled to dress himself, his hands fumbling with buttons and zippers, he pleaded with you, his voice cracking with desperation.

”Y/N, please, you have to listen to me. This isn't what it looks like, I swear,” he implored, his eyes wide with panic as he reached out to touch your arm, but you flinched away as if his touch burned. Feeling disgusted and deceived.

”What do you mean it's not what it looks like?!” you finally managed to choke out, your voice trembling with damage and betrayal. ”I come home to find you two... in our bed, na- naked!”

Lewis's face contorted in anguish, his mind racing for the right words to say, but nothing seemed adequate in the face of your devastation.

”It's... it's a misunderstanding, Y/N, I promise,” he stammered, his voice strained with emotion. ”Rachel and I... we didn't plan for this to happen. It's just... things got out of hand, and we never meant to do you wrong.”

You shook your head in disbelief because you didn’t know what else to do truly, feeling as if the ground had been pulled out from beneath you. ”How could you do this to me, Lewis? I thought you… that you loved me,” your voice turned in a whisper.

All the times he had discussed the future rushed through your mind. He wanted to retire and repeatedly told you how he wanted to marry you. Your hands trembled as you suddenly remembered asking Rachel to be your bridesmaid.

Suddenly, the pressure on your chest got worse.

Lewis's eyes pleaded with you, his voice barely a whisper as he struggled to find the right words. ”I don't know, Y/N. I don't know what came over me. I love you, you have to believe me. Please don't leave, we can work through this together.”

But his words fell on deaf ears as you turned away from him, the pain in your heart too raw to bear. ”I trusted you, Lewis. I trusted both of you,” you whispered, your voice barely audible over the pounding of your heart.

As you moved towards the door, every step heavier than the last, Lewis's voice trembled with desperation, his hands reaching out to grasp yours, pleading for your attention.

”Y/N, please, don't leave,” he begged, his voice cracking with raw emotion. ”I messed up, I know I did, but I love you. Please, let me make it right.”

You paused, the weight of his words pressing down on you like a suffocating blanket. ”How can you say you love me after what you did?” you asked, your voice barely a whisper, thick with pain.

And with that, you turned away, leaving behind the shattered remains of the life you had once shared, the echoes of Lewis's pleas fading into the emptiness of the night. Swearing to never put your trust in anyone else ever again.

Carlos Sainz

You had sworn off of relationships for so long after your last one that it was honestly a miracle, as your friends and family put it, that you agreed to go out with Carlos. But he was the perfect gentleman to you. The person who gave you hope for a better future. Giving you hope that maybe all the ‘cheesy’ discourse was for you too.

He knew how you were hurt the last time and reassured you about how special you were to him and how you were always enough. Enough for him.

It slowly became a running joke once you guys hit the two year mark. You were finally at a stage where you had a loving partner that you could trust blindly.

So to say that you were blindsided would be an understatement…

Your fingers trembled as you scrolled through Carlos's phone, your heart racing with each new message that appeared on the screen.

You never thought you'd be the type to snoop, but the nagging feeling in the pit of your stomach had become too much to ignore. He was so distant lately and so secretive about his phone, it was slowly killing you.

There it was, undeniable proof staring back at you in blue and white. Messages from an unknown number, filled with suggestive language and promises of secrecy. Your breath got caught in your throat as you read through the damning evidence, your heart sinking with each word.

‘Hey babe, can't wait to see you tonight ;) xoxo’

The message hit you like a punch to the gut, your mind reeling with disbelief. How could Carlos do this to you? You thought you had something special, something worth fighting for. But now, all those hopes and dreams lay shattered at your feet.

You tried to push down the rising tide of emotion, to find some innocent explanation for what you were seeing. But deep down, you knew the truth – Carlos was cheating on you.

When he emerged from the bathroom, you were waiting for him, phone in hand and tears in your eyes. And as you looked into his eyes, you knew that nothing would ever be the same again.

”Carlos,” you whispered, the weight of your words heavy in the air as he stepped into the room, his tousled hair and relaxed demeanor a stark contrast to the turmoil raging inside you.

You weren’t really sure why you weren’t screaming and thrashing things around already. It was like you were frozen on the spot.

”What's wrong?” he asked, concern etched into his features as he took in your tear-streaked face and the phone clutched tightly in your hand. Though, when you looked at him, all you could see was how he was your everything. How you had given him your everything.

And you still weren’t enough.

You struggled to find the words, to articulate the emotions coursing through you. ”I found... I found something on your phone,” you finally managed, your voice trembling with emotion.

Carlos's expression faltered, his eyes flickering with uncertainty as he took a hesitant step closer. ”What do you mean?” he asked, his voice tinged with apprehension.

You took a shaky breath, steeling yourself for the confrontation to come. ”Messages,” you began, your voice barely audible as you held up the phone, displaying the incriminating evidence for him to see. ”From someone... someone you've been seeing behind my back.”

Carlos's eyes widened in shock as he stared at the screen, his hand instinctively reaching out to take the phone from you. ”Y/N, I swear, I can explain,” he stammered, his voice tinged with desperation. Why was he reaching for the phone and not your hand?

But the words fell on deaf ears as the full weight of his betrayal hit you like a ton of bricks. ”Explain?” you echoed, your voice trembling with disbelief. ”How can you even explain this, Carlos? How could you do this to me?”

He reached out to touch you, to offer comfort or reassurance, but you recoiled, the sting of his infidelity too raw and painful to bear. ”I trusted you,” you choked out, tears streaming down your face as you backed away from him. ”How could you-”

Can love like this be lost too? You’ve been on your knees begging the universe to grant you one love that wouldn’t be snatched from you. Thinking all your prayers had been heard only for him to do it too.

Carlos's expression crumbled as he watched you retreat, his own anguish mirroring yours. ”I never meant for this to happen,” he pleaded, his voice thick with emotion. ”Please, Y/N, give me a chance to make things right.”

As Carlos pleaded with you, his words heavy with desperation, you couldn't help but feel a pang of doubt. His promises of love and devotion clashed with the evidence on his phone, leaving you torn between the man you thought you knew and the painful truth staring back at you.

You met his gaze, seeing the desperation etched into his features as he struggled to make you believe him. ”Can you hear me?” he implored, desperation lacing his words. ”You are always enough for me. Please, you have to believe me. I love you more than anything, Y/N.”

His words pulled at your heartstrings, the sincerity in his voice almost convincing you to give him another chance. But deep down, you knew that trust once broken was not easily repaired.

You met his gaze, feeling the weight of his plea bearing down on you. ”I hear you,” you replied softly, nodding through your tears, your voice tinged with sadness. ”But it's not that simple, Carlos. I want to believe you, but...”

Carlos's grip on you tightened, his body pressing against yours as he sought solace in your embrace. ”Please, don't leave,” he whispered, his voice filled with desperation. ”I'll do anything to make this right, to prove to you that you're the only one for me.”

Tears welled in your eyes as you pulled away, the pain of betrayal still raw and agonizing. ”No,” you murmured, your voice barely audible above the sound of your breaking heart. ”You did to us. You made me believe… I'm leaving. This is goodbye.”

With that, you turned and walked away, leaving Carlos standing alone in the wreckage of your brutally murdered relationship.

Charles Leclerc

You had rushed back home because for the first time in what feels like forever, your boyfriend was back home. Charles was a man of many charms. Despite being with him for so long, he still had you blushing and getting butterflies every time he was around.

He was busy when you got home so you decided to wash up but as you paced back and forth in the living room, your heart racing with anxiety, you didn’t know what to do to figure out what exactly Charles was doing.

Charles had been on the phone for what felt like hours, his voice hushed but urgent as he spoke to someone on the other end of the line. Normally, you wouldn't think much of it, but something about his tone tonight had set off alarm bells in your mind.

You tried to focus on a book, anything to distract yourself from the gnawing feeling of unease in the pit of your stomach. But every word you read seemed to blur together, your mind consumed with worry.

Finally, you couldn't take it anymore. With trembling hands, you set the book aside and made your way to the kitchen, where Charles was still on the phone.

”...I can't risk it tonight,” you heard him say, his tone strained ”She's coming home soon, and I don't want to risk it.”

Your heart skipped a beat at his words. Who was he talking about? And why did he sound so nervous?

Curiosity getting the better of you, you crept closer, straining to hear the other end of the conversation.

”...I know, I know,” Charles continued, his voice growing even more frantic. ”But I can't keep doing this. It's not fair to her, and it's not fair to you.”

Your blood ran cold at his words. What did he mean, ‘not fair to her?’ And who the fuck was he talking to?

Before you could process it all, Charles abruptly ended the call and turned to find you standing in the doorway, your eyes wide with shock and hurt.

”Y/N,” he started, his voice wavering as he took in your expression. ”I... I didn't realize you were there.”

You struggled to find your voice, your mind racing with a thousand questions. ”Who were you talking to, Charles?” you managed to choke out, your voice barely above a whisper.

Charles' eyes flickered with guilt as he shifted uncomfortably under your gaze. ”It's... it's nothing, Y/N,” he stammered, but you could tell he was lying. ”Just a friend.”

But you weren't buying it. Not after what you had just heard. ”A friend?” you repeated, your voice rising with anger and hurt. ”Is that what you call my replacement?”

Charles' face paled at your accusation, his eyes widening in shock. ”Baby, it's not what you think,” he protested, but you could hear the desperation in his voice. He looked so scared, as if he knew he was gonna get caught up into lies.

”Then what is it, Charles?” you demanded, your voice trembling with emotion. ”Enlighten me.”

He hesitated, his gaze flickering away from yours as if unable to meet your eyes. ”It's... it's complicated,” he finally admitted, but his words offered little comfort.

”There's nothing complicated about cheating on someone you claim to love.” You were trying to compose yourself, not show him how deeply his words had cut you but your hands were trembling and your voice was cracking. Face pale and eyes glassy.

Charles winced at your words, his guilt written plainly across his face. ”You’re the only person I love,” he insisted, his voice barely above a whisper. ”It's just... things got out of hand.”

You felt like you had been punched in the gut. How could he stand there and try to justify his betrayal? How could he expect you to forgive him after this? Why the fuck was he the one looking distort?

”I trusted you, Charles,” you choked out, tears welling in your eyes. He shouldn’t be expecting you to treat him as a victim too when he was the one guilty. ”I thought we had something special.”

Charles' expression softened, his eyes brimming with remorse. ”We do, Y/N,” he said, his voice cracking with emotion. ”I love you, more than anything. Please, you have to believe me.”

But love now felt like a distant memory, tarnished by his infidelity. ”How can I believe anything you say after this?” You scoffed bitterly. Angry at yourself for crying in front of the man who has probably been sleeping with someone else for months now.

Charles reached out to you, his hand trembling as he brushed a tear from your cheek. ”I'll do anything to make it up to you, Y/N,” he pleaded, his voice filled with desperation. ”Just give me a chance to prove it.”

You whispered, your voice heavy with resignation,”There are no second chances for cheaters.”

Lando Norris

Because of multiple torments inflicted by past lovers, you were always resistant to fall head first in any relationship. Hesitant to give your heart knowing recovering was going to be the absolute worst.

Comes in, Lando. The man who broke through all your barriers, took down the walls you put around yourself and had you love struck in a matter of time.

For a moment, everything was amazing. He was the best person you could've asked for. He looked at you as if you put the stars up in the sky.

Who could've thought?

Who could've thought that the same fucking man would have you breaking down at a family event in front of everyone.

The room buzzed with conversation as you sat at the dinner table, trying to ignore the growing tension in the air.

Lando's hand found yours under the table, his thumb tracing soothing circles on your palm. ”Are you okay?” he whispered, concern etched in his voice.

You forced a smile, nodding faintly. ”Yeah, just a bit overwhelmed,” you murmured, hoping to brush off your unease. Why was everyone looking at you with such pity?

But Lando's gaze remained fixed on you, his eyes searching yours for any sign of distress. ”You know you can talk to me, right?” he said softly, squeezing your hand gently.

Before you could respond, a sudden hush fell over the room, drawing your attention to the commotion across the room. You followed Lando's gaze, your heart sinking as you saw him make eye contact with one of your cousins, their faces morphing as if they were having a whispered conversation.

”What's going on?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper as dread coiled in the pit of your stomach.

You have seen this scene before and you did not like where this was going. Feeling overwhelmed, you got up and excused yourself from the table. Slightly glad to have Lando do the same.

This was all a confusion. You repeated in your head before standing outside the venue, away from distressed eyes and hushed gossips.

Lando's grip on your hand tightened, his expression unreadable as he turned to face you. ”I... I need to talk to you,” he said, his voice strained with emotion.

Your heart plummeted as you watched him fidget, every step feeling like a weight bearing down on your chest. ”What is it?” you asked, your voice trembling with apprehension.

Lando hesitated, his eyes darting away from yours as if unable to meet your gaze. ”I... I don't know how to say this,” he began, his voice faltering.

Just then, your cousin appeared at his side, her expression a mix of guilt and defiance. ”Y/N, we need to talk,” she said, her voice tinged with remorse.

They exchanged another glance and something in your mind stopped working.

Your breath caught in your throat as the pieces of the puzzle fell into place, the truth hitting you like a sledgehammer to the chest. ”No...” you whispered, the word barely a breath as tears welled in your eyes.

Lando reached out to you as you took a step away from them, his voice a desperate plea. ”Please, let me explain,” he begged, his eyes brimming with regret.

But you pulled away, the sting of deceit too raw and painful to bear. ”Not you too,” you choked out, your voice breaking with emotion. ”How could you do this to me?”

There were no answers, no explanations that could erase the pain of their breach of trust. They both just watched as you started crying softly. Apparently everyone in your family knew too.

As tears welled in your eyes, Lando's pleading voice cut through the air. ”Y/N, please, just give me a chance to explain.” His hand reached out towards you, but you recoiled, his touch now feeling like a betrayal.

”Explain what?” you retorted, your voice laced with disbelief. ”That you cheated on me with my cousin?”

Lando's eyes widened in panic but instead your cousin's voice broke through the tension, filled with regret. ”Y/N, I'm so sorry. It was a mistake, it shouldn't have happened.”

Anger surged within you at her words. ”Sleeping with my fucking boyfriend was a mistake?” you shot back, incredulous at the audacity of her apology.

Lando stepped forward, his expression a mix of remorse and longing. ”I never meant to cause you any pain, Y/N. Please believe me,” he pleaded, his voice trembling with emotion.

Your trust had shattered along with your heart. 

His voice quivered as he spoke again, desperation lacing his words. ”I love you, Y/N. I made a stupid mistake, but it doesn't change how I feel about you.”

But love now felt like a distant memory, tarnished by their adultery.

”If this is love, I want no part of it,” you declared, your voice filled with anguish. Knowing deep down that you meant it.

Your cousin reached out to you, her eyes brimming with tears. ”Y/N, please, you have to understand...” But understanding felt beyond your reach, lost in a sea of pain and betrayal.

”Understand what?” you cried out, your voice breaking with emotion. ”That my own sister betrayed me with my… my boyfriend?”

Lando's plea echoed in the air, his voice thick with desperation. ”I'll do anything to make it up to you, Y/N. Just give me a chance.”

But the chance had already been squandered, lost in the wreckage of their infidelity.

”You had your chance, Lando, and you blew it.” You wish you could be angry and put them to their places but your chest was hurting so much that it was almost dizzy.

You felt sick and on the verge of passing out.

”I'll do anything to make things right, Y/N. Just tell me what to do.” But there was nothing they could do to undo the damage that had been done, no words or actions that could mend the broken pieces of your heart.

They have insulted you in front of your whole family.

”There's nothing you can do to fix this, Lando. You've ruined everything,” you murmured, your voice barely above a whisper as you turned away, the weight of their betrayal too heavy to bear.

As you walked away, their voices faded into the background, drowned out by the deafening roar of your own heartbreak. And as you stumbled out into the night, the stars above offering no solace, you vowed never to let anyone break you again.

( writing masterlist \ main masterlist \ drop a request ) ©maxtermind // do not copy, rewrite or translate any of my work on any platforms.

[miumura]

WAiTiN’ ON CALLS — S. JAEYUN 𓂃 ⭑

( 엔하이픈 제이크 ) : jake misses you — too much for his own liking. he tries to move on, and by doing so, he gives you one last call. usually it would go directly to voicemail, but instead, he was greeted with you on the other line.

──── ex!jake x gn ! r . . . ⌕ ex 2 lovers, second chance, angst, fluff ∿ 𝔀ord count 2.1K+ ( 2196 ) ╱ HAPPY BF JAKE DAY 🤍 i’ve been dying to write a fic using this pic of jake ever since it got posted … so this is for me and my jake baes 🤍

Jake knew he was beyond exhausted—so tired that all he could manage after work was to head straight for his bed, not even bothering to take off his suit.

But despite the dim lighting and the comfort of sinking into his mattress, sleep refused to come. He tossed and turned, tried counting sheep, but nothing worked. Frustrated, he sat up, turning on the radio to a soft, quiet tune as he stared at his phone.

He already knew what was on his mind.

His gaze settled on his contact list, focusing on one name—yours.

He missed you, more than he cared to admit. His eyes lingered on your icon, a picture he’d secretly taken during one of your dates. You’d demanded he delete it, but he never did. Instead, he kept it as a reminder of you, proudly showing it off whenever he got the chance.

A small, bittersweet smile crept onto his lips as his eyes trailed down to your name, the ache in his chest growing a little heavier.

My Love. He never bothered changing it—that name was reserved for you, and only you. Was it strange for him to keep it that way? He wasn't sure, but what he did know was that no matter what, you’d always be his love, even if he was the only one who still believed it.

Should he call you again?

His finger hovered over your name, hesitating—a rare feeling for him. He’d always called before, whenever he had a free moment. It was supposed to be a one-time thing, just a way to clear his head, but it had become a habit. Strangely enough, he found relief in those calls. They always went straight to voicemail, and he was certain you never listened to them.

That’s where he poured his heart out, leaving messages that no one would hear. It was sad, but in a way, comforting—like shouting into the void, knowing there'd be no echo, no response.

He often wondered why you hadn’t blocked him yet. Maybe, if you did, it would finally force him to move on.

Maybe that would give him the push he needed to let go.

But deep down, he knew it wasn’t that simple. He was the one holding onto the past, the one clinging to old habits. Why did he think calling you, of all things, would help him get over you? Even if someone asked him, he wouldn’t know how to explain it.

Maybe he didn’t really want to.

Maybe, just maybe, he was still hoping for something—anything—from you.

He just wanted to hear your voice again, even though it felt impossible at this point. Pressing his lips together, he finally tapped the call button. Placing the phone on his thigh, Jake ran a hand through his hair, unable to look at the screen as the rings buzzed in the quiet room.

As usual, he fully expected you wouldn’t answer.

Normally, the sting of disappointment would hit him when you let his calls go unanswered, but tonight felt different. Tonight, everything was going to change.

This would be the last time he stared at your contact, the last time he pressed your number, and the last voicemail he'd leave. Tonight, he was finally going to say goodbye.

Tonight—

"Hello?"

His body went still.

For a moment, Jake couldn’t believe it. Your voice, so familiar yet distant, cut through the static of the call. He had rehearsed this moment over and over in his mind, but now that it was real, his words were trapped in his throat.

"Jake?" you repeated, sounding confused, maybe even concerned. "Are you there?"

He swallowed, trying to collect himself. "Hey," he finally managed, his voice barely a whisper. "I... I didn’t expect you to pick up."

There was a brief silence on the other end, making his heart race, before you spoke again. "I didn’t expect to get so many calls... or all the voicemails."

"You... you listened to them?" he asked, barely able to believe it.

“Caught up on all of it yesterday,” you admitted, your voice surprisingly calm. “You really sent a lot, huh?”

Jake’s heart was pounding so loudly that it drowned out his own thoughts. He couldn’t believe this was happening. The plan to say goodbye, the resolution he had built up in his mind, seemed to dissolve the moment he heard your voice.

He didn’t want to mess this up—he couldn’t.

“I still didn’t expect you to actually listen to them,” he said, his voice shakier than he wanted it to be.

“How could I not?” you chuckled softly, attempting to ease the awkward tension. It was strange, both of you knew it. Talking to your ex, someone you swore you’d never contact again, felt surreal.

And yet, here you were—on the phone, waiting for him to say something more.

Jake took a breath, the weight of his next words heavy on his chest. "I was planning on this being the last call,” he confessed. “Since you never really picked up... I figured I was just bothering you."

There was a pause on the other end, and he held his breath, wondering what you’d say next.

"Would it be wrong to say I had a feeling?" you finally replied, voice soft.

"How could you tell?"

"Just... a gut feeling," you said, as if searching for the right words. "Or maybe because… I knew you."

His heart couldn’t help but falter—he knew you were not lying. You did know him, deeply once. But that closeness had slipped away when life had led you down different paths.

"Yeah," was all he could muster, the simplicity of the word masking the storm of emotions within him. He wasn’t sure how to move forward, or if he even wanted to.

“Do you mean every single voice message?” you asked, breaking the silence that had settled between you two. Jake’s eyes widened, caught off guard by the question.

“Of course I do,” he replied, gripping his phone tightly, as if it could somehow bridge the distance between you. His heart was pounding; he needed to make this count. “There isn’t a single thing I’ve sent to you that I’d ever want to take back. Every word was real. It’s exactly how I feel about you... about us.”

For a moment, vulnerability hung between you, both knowing this conversation could change everything. Jake could only hope you’d feel it too, that maybe, just maybe, there was still a chance to turn this into something more.

“Come see me then.”

“Huh?” Jake’s breath hitched, unsure if he’d heard you right.

“You’re not going to leave me hanging this time, are you?” you asked with a light chuckle, though your voice held a hint of nervousness. You hoped the laughter would mask how your heart was pounding, racing in anticipation.

Jake barely registered the words before he was scrambling to grab his keys, his phone pressed tightly to his ear. “Not this time,” he stammered, his voice shaking with excitement and a touch of panic. He could feel his pulse hammering as he fumbled with his shoes, trying to keep his hands steady.

The thought of seeing you, of finally closing the distance he’d been feeling for so long, filled him with both anticipation and nervous energy.

"Take your time," you teased, though he could hear the faintest tremor in your voice, as if you were trying to calm yourself, too. But he knew he wouldn’t—couldn’t—wait.

He barely managed to lock his door, nearly tripping as he rushed down the stairs. His mind raced, playing over every word, every message he’d sent, wondering if this was finally his chance to make things right.

As he reached his car, hands fumbling for his keys, he took a deep breath, forcing himself to focus, to drive safely. But his heart wouldn’t slow, each beat pushing him forward with a desperate urgency.

Jake barely remembered the drive over, his mind racing faster than the car itself. As he pulled up in front of your house, he felt a fresh wave of nerves settle over him. He sat there for a second, gripping the steering wheel, trying to steady his breath.

This was it.

With a final deep breath, he stepped out of the car and walked up the path to your door, his heart pounding with every step. He hesitated before raising his hand to knock, his mind swirling with questions.

But before he could overthink it, the door swung open, and there you were, standing there in the soft glow of your porch light. For a split second, neither of you spoke, caught up in the quiet intensity of the moment.

“Hi,” you said softly, a small smile tugging at your lips, though he could see the same nervousness reflected in your eyes. “Still in your work attire?”

Jake looked down, realizing for the first time that he was still in his slightly rumpled shirt and loosened tie, his rushed appearance suddenly feeling a bit ridiculous. He let out a small, embarrassed laugh, reaching up to grab his tie as if he could somehow hide it from you. But when he looked back up, he wore a shy smile, his eyes creasing in that gentle way that had always made your heart skip.

Before he could say anything else, you stepped closer, reaching up to fix his tie, your fingers brushing against the fabric with a delicate touch that sent a shiver down his spine. He swallowed, feeling his pulse quicken. It was such a simple gesture, yet it felt like slipping back into something deeply familiar, a memory that had never truly faded.

“There,” you murmured softly as you adjusted the tie, smoothing out the collar. Your hand lingered for just a second longer, and in that moment, Jake felt everything—the unspoken words, the history, the quiet yearning.

“Thank you,” he managed, his voice a little rough.

"I didn’t realize you wanted to see me that badly… especially after just finishing your shift,” you said with a hint of surprise. “You’ve always loved your job.”

Jake let out a small, wistful laugh, meeting your gaze. “Even after a long shift, that isn’t enough to distract me from you,” he admitted. You both knew how deeply he was dedicated to his work, how it had once been the thing that drew him away from you, consuming his time and energy. Something he loved had taken his real love away from him. But he couldn’t dwell on regrets now, not when this chance was standing right in front of him.

“Every time I get back from work, I have to leave a voicemail,” he confessed quietly, his words hanging between you both.

“Every night?” you asked, startled. You hadn’t realized just how much he’d been reaching out in those messages, hadn’t counted the days it had spanned. “That’s… a lot, Jake.”

He nodded, his gaze steady and sincere. “There hasn’t been a single day I haven’t thought about you, Y/N,” he said softly, his voice raw with honesty.

You looked at him, noticing how he pressed his lips together, a nervous habit he’d never quite outgrown. His hair was neatly parted, and his suit fit him perfectly, accentuating the small changes time had brought to him. Somehow, he looked even better than you remembered—or maybe it was simply because you’d missed him more than you’d realized.

“Jake,” you murmured, almost as if testing his name again, letting it fill the space between you both. “I really missed you too.”

At your words, Jake’s face lit up, his cheeks lifting with a smile he couldn’t contain, no matter how hard he tried to keep his composure. He quickly looked away, clearing his throat, but when he turned back, his grin only grew wider as he saw your own smile mirroring his.

“Then… would you let me stay the night?” he asked softly, his voice hopeful, though almost immediately he seemed to second-guess himself. His smile faltered as he began to backpedal, a nervous laugh escaping. “Or, if that’s too much, we could just sit outside, or… in my car? Just to talk, to catch up—or maybe just to let me finally say all these things I’ve kept hidden.”

You couldn’t help but laugh, finding his nervous rambling unexpectedly endearing. It was hard to remember the last time you’d seen Jake like this—unsure, almost shy. Without another word, you reached out and grabbed his arm, gently tugging him inside.

“You can stay,” you said, a warmth in your voice that eased the lingering tension in the air.

Jake blinked in surprise, his nervous expression melting into something more tender as he stepped inside. The familiar warmth of your home wrapped around him, but it was the simple presence of you that truly eased him. He hadn’t realized how much he'd longed for this—just to be near you again.

As he looked at you, a quiet realization washed over him, clear and undeniable. He wasn’t just here because he needed to be; he was here because he wanted to be.

Wherever you were, that was where he wanted to be too.

‘💬’ ─── may active soph come back after this one 😖!

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[bioblsm]

WHAT DOES THEIR CAMERA ROLL LOOK LIKE?

❀ ꒰warnings꒱. boothill backstory spoilers, not proofread ಥ_ಥ

𖧷 characters. jing yuan, blade, dr ratio, ruan mei, aventurine, sunday, boothill

☆彡 notes. aventurine 🤝 boothill — being some of the most gay ass mfs i’ve seen in a hyv game (apart from bronya and seele) seriously their flamboyance still gives me whiplash…anyways this has been on my mind for months now but i’ve never gotten around to writing it!!! >_<

JING YUAN 𐚁 景元

[◉"] 2,304 photos, 83 videos

⌖ if you scroll really fast down or up his gallery, all you’ll actually manage to see is splotches of pink, blonde and silver

⌖ everything ranges from cute candid shots of yanqing (he takes multiple if yanqing’s fallen asleep while on duty), to sneaky pictures of fu xuan as she’s working where he’s in the foreground doing peace signs — the final picture of course being her looking at the camera lense directly to glare up at him

⌖ reaching weekends when he’s slightly a little more free or allows himself a small break to stroll around town, his camera roll is either filled with pictures of food he’s eaten or swords that yanqing may or not definitely ask about that he’s now more inclined to buy as he’s seen them in person (he’s a boy dad who loves spoiling his child, alright?)

⌖ the large majority of his photos unfortunately are work related, only really the recent ones being deleted from his gallery to clear up some space

⌖ however, while his photos are preoccupied with either his two kids or random scrolls with messy and rushed handwriting, each video is of you; jing yuan thinks a picture would belittle your beauty too much.

⌖ he needs something a little more real, a little more active and animated to help him quell the chirping loneliness that creeps up on his heart whenever you’re away from him for a prolonged period of time; if he’s feeling particularly mischievous he might sneak a quick but blurry picture of himself to send to you ♡

BLADE 𐚁 刃

[◉"] 9 photos, 2 videos

⌖shit is BARREN. literally a complete EMPTY VOID. if you snatched his phone somehow you’d assume he just got it despite him not having changed it ever since he received one

⌖ perhaps on the occasion you’ll find a cameo picture from one of the stellaron hunters as his phone is left unoccupied and someone decided to blast his entire gallery with their face (silverwolf specifically just hacks into his phone to keep putting random screenshots he’s never taken in his gallery to make him believe he’s taken them)

⌖ maybe sometimes he’ll screenshot different ways to die or health clinic locations he can avoid when he’s fortunately bleeding out but otherwise? nothing.

⌖ if you’re a massive yapper and love sending him pictures, he won’t go out of his way to download them for later usage (whatever that may be…) but he also won’t go out of his way to delete it if it’s accidentally automatically downloaded on his phone — maybe elios intended for it to be there?

⌖ it’s quite nice having a reminder of his significant other where he doesn’t have to actively listen to their voice… that’s a little exaggerative; but he loves just mapping out the features in your face, it helps him sleep just the slightest bit better with no ailment if he’s able to trace your features like a constellation on his blank, dark wall

DR RATIO 𐚁 真理医生

[◉"] 1000 photos, 100 videos

⌖ call it a form of ocd, but he NEEDS to have a decent ratio (i didn’t even mean for this to be a pun i’m so sorry) of his photos to videos; he doesn’t care if it’s 10:1, 2:1 1:5, he needs something that’s at least somewhat pleasing to the eyes

⌖ ratio immediately deleted anything he doesn’t need or thinks he won’t find use in for at the very least the month (this includes every single cameo shot aventurine or you have taken of yourselves on his phone without his permission, which by the way, he didn’t hesitate to scold you two for)

⌖ maybe if he’s feeling particularly loving (when is he ever?) he’ll allow ONE picture to stay.

⌖ his camera roll is purely filled with test results, written exams, student emails he needs to read over, things concerning the guild or the ipc and secret purchases of ducks he’s made (he’s not ashamed, he just doesn’t want you to know he’s buying ducks that are bigger in size every time so he can fill your shared bathroom)

⌖ realistically, maintaining such a perfect ratio of photos:videos is rather impossible unless you’ve got impeccable timing with things you save and delete so, in order to bypass this, ratio made a photo library to help serve as a base number of sorts

⌖ that photo library is of course a secret and locked haven filled with pictures and videos of you, none of which you can even recall taking. all of them hold at least some sort of significance to the both of you, but the ones that dr ratio loves the most is the ones that are just natural

⌖ the ones that show you being yourself, whether it’s where you’re cuddled up near a blanket reading something with a leg hiked up over the sheets or where you’re sleeping with your mouth wide open because you’re sick and unable to breathe through your nose properly; he loves it all

RUAN MEI 𐚁 阮•梅

[◉"] 505 photos, 28 videos

⌖ she tries to keep it as neat as possible; that means no sneaky pics taken of her by you, accidental blurry shots she’s taken (god forbid, those ones are immediately scrapped and done anew especially if related to an experiment of hers) thought that doesn’t mean she clears it in the regular

⌖ ruan mei actively saves any photo you send her, sometimes she’ll even screenshot the chat itself if she finds herself clutching at her heart as she swoons over a few lines of flirting that apparently you couldn’t hold yourself back from due to how much you missed her

⌖ she’s not someone really sentimental so despite having photos of her little cake-cat hybrids, she rarely ever rechecks them unless the trailblazer sent another report on their status to match

⌖ honestly her memory is impeccable to the point she doesn’t even need screenshot reminders of things like dates and experiments saved (would it even be called machine reductionist to call her a walking computer model at this point?) therefore, anything she saves that’s work or science related probably has more intricacies that she can account for

⌖ her gallery is a little boring otherwise. for someone of her morally grey standards you’d expect at least something worth mentioning, maybe even something dumb like a secret recipe she uses to make the sweetest (anti-truth serum…) pastries but no— nothing.

yet the reason for that is very blatant; not even her beloved has the privilege to witness her mendacity.

AVENTURINE 𐚁 砂金

[◉"] 8,793 photos, 777 videos

⌖ it’s a complete and utter mess to say the very least; dr ratio refuses to so much as glance at it whenever he’s near and topaz just gets an ick:

“how do you even manage to find anything?”

“luck.”

⌖ his photos range from absurd, to sweet to egotistical. things that remind him of you such as random rocks he finds, alcoholic beverages that have the same colour scheme of an outfit you wore the night before, an animal he saw that he swears if reincarnation was real would so be you

⌖ he has a specific library for just solely screenshots based off your chats, most of them including a significant amount of “i love yous” and goodbyes that promised a little something more when you met up next; everything that aventurine utterly cherished and craved

⌖ …and then the rest was either him showing the background of him photobombing others, pictures he took to send to you (or one of the ipc members to piss them off, sometimes even the trailblazer for a cheeky laugh) and on the even more popular occasion, all his extraordinary wins whether it be in poker, pool or uno

⌖ compared to his photos, his videos are slightly more interesting. a near 50/50 split that ranged between him telling dumbass jokes to piss off his coworkers, recordings of the back of dr ratio’s and or topaz’s head just for the future laughs (he likes the reminder that he does actually have friends and they aren’t just deliberate hallucinations born of loneliness).

⌖ but of course, all his “favourited” videos involve you somehow. sometimes it’s just a slip of your name while he’s sneakily recording a meeting, him telling you he misses you or vice versa, other times it’s just when he feels like he has a home. you snuggled up on his chest, hands intertwined together as your breathing nearly synchronises with him…moments where he feels as though he could forget the trademark imprinted onto his neck.

SUNDAY 𐚁 星期日

[◉"] 777 photos, 111 videos

⌖ now as much as i want to say “oh it’s all you! he has a special folder for you <3” i unfortunately can’t.

⌖ it’s almost most definitely videos of robin’s concerts, solo shows, videos he stolen off of audience members with good seats when he wasn’t available to personally hide in the crowd…a lot of the photos are also the same way; robin’s promotional pictures, screenshots from her recent advertisements and negative hate comments or news stories that he’s going to personally deal with later

⌖ that doesn’t mean he values or priorities you over his sister, absolutely not. you two are the only people in his life who he would unironically take down the skies and survive utter torment for if it meant your voices were the last things he heard as bellowing winds sliced past his eardrums to tune the world out in order to hear his own final breath

⌖ he tries his best not to be sentimental or nostalgic, as he’s been told as he grew up into the bright and maybe just slightly tragic and guilt-infested man he is today, those things in his eyes are an innate weakness of humanity. clinging onto something thats not tangible anymore.

⌖ but he can’t help but hold on to every video you send him. every picture of you smiling, laughing, every text of you saying i love yous, quoting love songs to him or showing him pictures where you jokingly said “that’s us” (did he tilt his head a few times when you kept sending animals to him with that particular correspondent message? perhaps, but it never made him blind to the intentions).

BOOTHILL 𐚁 波提欧

[◉"] 12,113 photos, 191 videos

⌖ he truly doesn’t gaf (give a fork) about how messy it is, all the things that are genuinely important are already locked and loaded into his noggin’, there’s no point in being frugal with the space he’s been given on a little cellular device

⌖ you wouldn’t believe it, but he rarely uses it unless it’s for emergencies. there’s plenty of trouble that comes around when you’re a galaxy ranger, which means having a constant tracking device on you like a phone that you update daily is a stupidly bad idea; which is precisely why his photo gallery is a mess

⌖ he quite literally can’t go in and clear it out otherwise it risks giving out sensitive information.

⌖ not applicable to you, that is. in boothill’s eyes, you’re an “emergency”. if you’ve texted him, it’s obvious you want his attention, which potentially means you could be in danger and he has to rush to the rescue like the flamboyant cowboy he is (no he absolutely knows you don’t need help, but there’s always that nagging “what if” factor, you know?)

⌖ he inwardly blesses whoever invented screenshotting because it would be an understatement to say that little as half of his gallery is littered with you. he’s just a bit of a boomer when it comes to technology like this, despite being a whole walking charging port himself ehem, so a lot of the pictures he has saved of you that you sent over whenever he cutely pleaded;

“missing ya, send me a lil’ somethin’ wont you?”

unfortunately are uncropped and framed with the outline of whatever messaging app you’re on.

⌖ if he lets you scroll up far back enough, maybe you’ll get to see just a glimpse of how similar his adoptive daughter’s smile was to his

© BIOBLSM ✮ do not copy steal or repost