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hyuckmov · 1 month ago

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haechan — settle down (rockstar hyuck) | part 3 of 3

wc: 11k (lol) genre: angst, smut (18+ minors dni), fluff warnings: unprotected sex, making out, creampies, fingering, oral (f recieving), lowkey don't have that dog in me anymore so this is kind of vanilla, dirty talk, aftercare...? needs to be read after part 1 and 2 a/n: fucking finally. so so so sorry for the wait and also this is lowkey probably so BAD because its been a hot minute since i've written for tumblr. because this could be written/ended in so many ways, AN EPILOGUE IS COMING with a 'happy' ending, just not putting it here in this part because i think i should post this out first on it's own. i love you guys so much, thank you to every single person who's read, commented, let me know how much you liked it, and waited so patiently. i cannot express how much it means to me.

—

"whose party is this again?"

"jaemin's friend chenle," mark says, placing his drink down on one of the tables. "think they should be around here somewhere."

through the smoke, he can see your eyes shine. you've come even closer now, and it's as if every movement of yours is liquified, rendered in slow-motion – you flick a strand of hair out of your face and it's like he can feel the damp air on your cheeks, a slow smile spreading across your face like sunrise spilling over the horizon, that lovely curl of your lip that he's memorized. he feels his chest cave in when he hears you laugh, feel you take another step closer to him even though your eyes never meet his, even though you never look his way – every memory he has of you threatening to burst through his seams.

your skin glows under the dizzying lights, and all he can think about is the fact that you’re so close, he could reach out his hand and touch you. but he can’t. you weren't his – and he was the one who had thrown you away.

jisung comes up to you, and haechan can see his friend's shy smile met with your beaming grin as you turn to face him. jisung is saying something to you – a hand gently placed on your shoulder as he speaks into your ear, the other gesturing vaguely towards the upstairs rooms. and then you're nodding, and haechan watches wide-eyed as he takes your hand in his and begins guiding you up the stairs.

he can't help it – he only waits a beat, enough for you to disappear up the stairs, before he's rushing through the crowd, climbing the stairs two at a time. he rounds the corner just as he sees the flick of your skirt as you disappear into the nearest room, the door clicking shut softly. taking a moment to calm himself down – chest heaving, wringing his hands – he pads softly towards the room, placing both hands on the door, straining to hear anything that might be going on.

low voices. the rustling of fabric. haechan's imagination spun out of control – jisung's large hands on your skin, his plush lips exploring your neck, your soft sounds, the way you might look under him. he heard a light laugh, and he pressed even closer to try to catch what was being said – what if he had you on his lap? what if you laughed because he'd kissed you behind the ear like haechan did once? it had caught you by surprise, and you'd giggled – burying your face in the crook of his neck. you were sorry. you were just sensitive. haechan had wanted to pull you into his chest and never let you go.

he knew he was breaking his own heart – over-analyzing each muffled sound that came through, all his thoughts drifting back to memories of you. but he couldn't seem to peel himself away as the party raged on and on downstairs, didn't want to be anywhere else but near you even if you didn't know he was there. he had never felt this way with anyone else before – never needed anyone else like this, never afraid like this – and the realisation roared loud in his ears along with the feverish ghost of your fingerprints all over his skin.

–

jisung knows haechan's going to talk to him.

can see it in the way he hangs back after practice, fiddling with his guitar and placing it back on its stand, before picking it back up again for no real reason. there was something off, slightly, about haechan these days. not enough for jeno or mark to comment about it, to hold an intervention, but things had definitely changed – haechan never brought around girls, or showed any interest when jeno and mark would discuss them. he was quiet, and subdued during practice, absorbed in his own guitar, or else discussing new songs with mark in low voices. and strangest of all – jisung mused, slinging his own bass over his shoulder as he ambled to the door – haechan started to seem afraid of jisung.

jisung – who had for the longest time been the most timid and shy of the group, the least experienced by far. he remembered how haechan would tease him if a girl paid him any slightest bit of attention: half-joking, but half trying to build up his friend's confidence. he remembered how he used to be wary of haechan's attention at after-show parties, because haechan would watch him like a hawk and push him into any girls he showed the vaguest interest in. he remembered his shock at haechan, who had never been mean or vindictive – a pain sometimes yes, but never truly cruel to him –, standing there obstinately in his place on stage, staring down at you in the crowd.

to the version of haechan now, who could barely look him in the eye.

"jisung?"

haechan clears his throat. jisung stops in his tracks, turning back to look at haechan.

"yeah?"

haechan's gaze is directed at his shoes. swallowing, he takes a moment before he asks. "uh…how was…um…how've you been?"

jisung has to stop himself from laughing out loud. "i've been good," he says, amiably. he's not going to let haechan have it easy.

"nice…nice," haechan mumbles. "uh…seeing anybody?"

"haechan," he keeps his tone light. "come on." he moves towards where haechan is standing awkwardly, taking a seat down on one of the stools. after a beat, haechan sits down too.

"how did it go with y/n?" haechan sounds almost timid – like a child asking a question, but scared of knowing the answer.

"can't you ask her yourself?" he knows he's making things difficult, but he needs haechan to work for it. needs haechan to articulate, because he knows that's the least you deserve.

"i…i could," haechan says. "but i…i don't want to seem possessive. i already fucked up by wishing her luck on the date and i just…" he buries his face in his hands. jisung doesn't say a thing, waiting for him to finish his sentence. "i don't want to hurt her anymore…but i need to know. i need to know what to expect.…" haechan's voice is so small, like he's disappearing into himself.

"haechan…" he starts, slowly, but haechan cuts in, hurriedly.

"if you really love her, jisung, if you're happy together, i'll back off. i won't see her again. it'll be…it'll be too hard to see her with you but that's for me to figure out. you…you should both be happy. she deserves you, ji. you'll be good for each other."

"what are you even saying…" jisung lets out a nervous laugh. he knows haechan tends to get dramatic – loves blowing moments out of proportion, lingering on stories that were fun to tell and relive. loves to exaggerate – always taking the smallest details too seriously and making light of things that had real consequences. but as he watches haechan – curled in on himself, he sees that this is something else entirely. this haechan was anxious and overthinking, unsure of himself, fractured into a thousand different wants and needs.

"i'm serious, jisung." haechan, the vocalist he is, keeps his voice as steady as possible. "i'll back off if you tell me to. if i'm making it hard for you in any way…"

"haechan, it's…it's going to be fine. it's not what you think."

"you…you're not together now?" a hint of hopefulness.

jisung chooses to be kind. "we're not," he says, gently. when haechan's lips part, he continues on, interrupting him. "it had nothing to do with you. we're just…not."

"i'm sorry," haechan murmurs, finally lifting his head. "i know you wanted it to work out." he truly means it.

"i'm happy with the way things are now," jisung says it, and he means it too. "but…but you know she's going to start seeing other people, right?"

a beat. "yeah…yeah of course."

"you can't go after all of them and ask them if it's working out or not, you know?" jisung says, wryly. "at some point…you need to just talk to her."

"i…" haechan break off, a pained expression flitting over his face. "i don't have anything to say. but i really want her to be happy. i just want her to be happy. but it sounds…" he catches the look on jisung's face. "i know it sounds like a guilt-trip. i know what it sounds like."

"give her space," jisung suggests, quietly. "figure out what you're willing to give. who you can be for her."

"hyuck or haechan." he says it almost spitefully. he had never hated the difference more.

you were in the crowd today.

it had been a little over a month – 6 days more, to be exact, – since haechan had last seen you in the crowd, each time spotting your face easily, everyone else fading to nothing. each time noting every which way your eyes shimmered under the lights, the ways your pretty lips curved into a smile or a shout, or even each time you looked away, distracted.

he'd practically rushed into the dressing room after the show ended, anxious hands tugging at his clothes, trying to fix himself up just in case you decided to come find him. questions had spun around in his mind so much during the show, he was afraid he would start singing them in place of mark's carefully written lyrics. he's thought of a thousand ways to bring it up, but he wishes he could just ask — how've you been? have you forgotten me?

he's still lost in thought when the dressing room door opens softly, the lock turning gently in the door barely louder than a whisper.

"haechan?"

he turns, and you're there. you're wearing a new dress, probably the shortest one he's ever seen on you, black glittery fabric barely brushing the tops of your thighs. but he doesn't linger on your body, his eyes seeking out your own, the flush of anticipation and adrenaline in your cheeks, the way your hair falls slightly loose, framing your face. the question is on the tip of his tongue, his lips are parting, his breath catches in his throat –

" – don't worry," you say, breathlessly, as you catch the look on his face. "no one saw me."

oh.

walking towards him, you pull him into a hug, arms wrapping around his neck, so you can brush your lips against his cheek. pulling away, you peer at him, wondering why he's looking at you so lost. like he was wondering something since he laid eyes on you tonight.

you frown. "were you going to ask me something else?"

his lips part, soundlessly. you've never seen him so speechless. his arms tentatively circle around your waist, fingers brushing the fabric of your dress, and understanding dawns on you.

"yes, it's a new dress," you smile.

he swallows, the cloudy look clearing from his eyes as he finally runs his heavy touch down your back, a feeling you've grown used to.

his tone is slightly darker when he plays along, masking the traces of disappointment. "for me?"

you nod, letting his hands wander to the zipper, eyes traveling to the mirror to catch the way he fiddles with it, slowly starting to drag it down your spine.

what you don't catch, is the way he's looking at you – lip caught between his teeth, eyes focused on the side of your face, regret and sadness and a desire he still couldn't shake coursing through his body. you had come back – and maybe that was all that he should care about.

"come home with me," he blurts out, suddenly. "i have to show you something."

confused, you look back at him, frowning. "now?"

he swallows. "yes. we'll still…it's just…" he stammers, confidence draining as he watches you zip your dress back up. "i mean…i just…thought you'd like my bedroom more than this dressing room. you said- you said it was uncomfortable, that last time…" he trails off. his head droops, fingers picking at his nails.

you place your hands on his chest. his head lifts just slightly, glancing at you through his lashes. "haechan," the ache in your chest making your voice soft – barely above a whisper. "why are you so nervous today?"

"i'm sorry," he starts, but you shake your head. "it's been awhile."

"that's fine, i'll go home with you," you say, smiling, hoping to reassure him. the words instantly relax him, and he lets out a breath. you can feel his chest move under your palms.

"i'm sorry," he repeats, softly, but you don't know what he's saying it for.

–

you don't know how you ended up here.

one moment, haechan was unlocking his door, one hand fumbling with the keys as he held yours tightly in his other palm. the next, you were pushing him against the door – his plush lips, soft and tasting slightly like honeyed lip balm, finally kissing you deeply in a way you'd craved. and then he was sweeping you up into his arms, your legs locked in around his waist, his bag slumping to the floor as he focused all his attention on you. placing you on the countertop, he takes his time with your lips – his hand first cupping your face, then working its way down your neck, as if he was making sure you were wholly real through touch since his eyes were closed for the kiss.

"hyuck?" you murmur.

guilt pricks at your conscience when you feel him falter. you would never admit that you realized the name did something to him – made him more desperate and more tender all at once. you used it sparingly, only in certain moments, and tonight seemed just right for it, what with the way his touch was already so infused with longing.

he hums in acknowledgement, pausing. a gentle palm tilts your face towards his, and his eyes are wide and patient.

"what's wrong?" he asks.

"i want to suck you off," you mumble, your words coming out rushed and careless. you almost think he might not catch it, but haechan goes still. his hands, caressing your face, stop moving.

"what?"

your mind explodes with a million thoughts. did he not want you to? how many girls had sucked him off before you – did he think you wouldn't be good enough? was he not attracted to you enough?

he was still just looking at you – something unreadable in his eyes.

"do you not want me to?" you ask, doubt making your tone come off a little more insecure than you'd have liked. "is it…is it because i've never done it before?"

he blinks. "what?" he repeats, again.

you shift, uneasy. "you can teach me," you insist, holding onto his arms, wanting to be closer to him. "i'll practice…"

"oh god," he whispers. "oh… oh y/n…" his hands barely skim your skin, nervously tucking your hair behind your ear. "don't," he says, quietly.

"why?"

i don't want to hurt you," he says, voice so tender it wavers under the weight of his feelings for you. "being able to touch you is already everything to me-" he trails off, biting his lip, and then he's weak in the knees, and you melt into his embrace as he holds your body against his. "i don't want you to do anything you're uncomfortable with."

"i want to please you like the girls before," you protest, weakly. "i want to…i want you to tell me your fantasies."

"all that matters to me," he says, slowly, eyes suddenly grave and solemn. "is that i'm here with you. just you." he holds your hands up to his lips and kisses the tips of your fingers.

you don't know what to say. the charged atmosphere from before has dissolved into the night, leaving a balmy and sweet taste on your tongue. the only thing that feels right is to hold him in your arms and hold him as close as you can.

he's looking at you, before suddenly pulling you into him as if he could read your mind – arms wrapped protectively around your back, one hand coming up to stroke your hair as you lean into his chest.

the memory of that first night comes back to you – the first time he rejected you. he hadn't wanted to hurt you then, either. and then he proceeded to in all ways possible – playing with your heart in a terrible back and forth. and then he disappeared from your life, and then he came back and something was different – in the way he touched you, looked for you, looked at you, was careful with you.

but you moved on – told jaemin, told yourself you weren't waiting. you'd gone on a date with jisung, and then to some more with a few other guys on campus. you didn't hang around the band all the time now – didn't show up for every concert. and even when you did, you rarely stopped by to see haechan – spending more and more time with jisung, who was steadily becoming one of your closest friends.

you tried to keep things light when you did visit haechan. always easy, relishing in how well he knew how to please you, how he always knew what to say. and for the most part, he was able to play along – a smile always tugging at the corner of his lips, or his tongue poking into his cheek as his eyes turned dark.

but it was on nights like these – when the moon was a bit too bright and the air between your lips and his dense like honey, your skin heated and his face flushed – when you used the wrong name, or he said things too vulnerable and too intimate. it was on nights like these when you are faced with the reality that he made you feel the way no one else could – even as he was ever-changing, ever showing you a different side of himself. on these nights you plunge your hands deep into the kaleidoscope of him, and its like diving into shattered glass.

–

"i wanted to show you this," he murmurs, shyly.

he places a pair of headphones clumsily on your head, his long fingers scrambling to adjust it on your head, trying not to pull at your hair. your hands come up to help, and you shoot him a reassuring smile.

it was even later in the night. you were both showered and dressed for bed – you in a long-sleeved shirt of his that you liked. when you came into the bedroom, he was fiddling with his laptop – and you could hear snippets of his honey-sweet voice starting and stopping as he tapped at his keyboard. it was natural, to head over to the bed and lean your head on his shoulder, as he started to explain to you what he was doing, eventually grabbing his headphones from the bedside table. his skin smells faintly of baby powder, and his bare face under the dim light is so soft – mellowed curves, the constellation of moles on his cheek ever visible, eyes tired but warm.

he clicks play, and his voice fills your ears – clean, without any backing vocals or instruments. you try to catch the lyrics, but he mumbles through his words, voice meandering effortlessly around the melodies, drawing beautiful loops. his voice is delicate and gentle, flowing water with a current of electricity running through it, humming and buzzing with dangerous life.

it ends all too quickly, and haechan – who was watching your face carefully the entire time, clicks on a few more tracks. you can hear his voice, muffled from under the headphones, start to explain.

"that's…that's my draft for the melody. i made it for this, uh, it's one of mark's demos–"

a sultry, low beat now plays, low strings filling in the gaps. when his voice leaks in, you feel your cheeks start to heat up. the same melody from before – so innocuous and sweet, maybe something even vulnerable – sounds sinful all of a sudden. you can practically hear the scream of the crowd punctuating each line, and now even the way he mumbles is hazed with a sort of suggestive glow.

you look at him, wide-eyed. he's still watching your face, this time his lip caught between his teeth, looking up at you through his lashes. when the song ends, you tug the headphones down from your ears, and he takes them from you absentmindedly.

"mark told me to try writing for that. he said it suited my voice —"

"it does," you respond. your hands reach out to play with his, tracing the way his fingers curved, running your touch along his calloused finger-tips.

"but i…i don't know. i want to write something…something that feels…" he stumbles over his words, eyes lingering on the way your hands play with his, the gentleness of your touch. "that feels like this," he finishes, softly.

"like what?" you hum, tracing loops on the back of his hand.

but he doesn't respond.

"do you like it?" he asks, quietly.

you give his hand a squeeze. "sing it for me?"

his hand trails off to the keyboard again, but you hold it steady in your palm. "no, sing it for me now. here."

he's still. you almost think he won't do it, but then he's pushing the screen of his laptop shut, and he turns to face you.

this time, when he sings, he gets all the words out.

in person, his voice is hushed and soft, like every word is a secret. his eyes flutter shut, and he ducks his head shyly as he continues. when he ends, his voice trails off, and he doesn't turn to look at you, staring at his hands. you stay silent, until it's like he can't bear it, and his head turns to face you, eyes seeking reassurance.

"i like it just like this," you tell him, softly.

his smile blooms.

—

"keep haechan on his toes," jaemin says, leaning back in his chair. the steam from the coffee he made – a 2am jaemin specialty — curled gently in the air, your hands nursing the mug in front of you, sipping just to have something to do. "don't see him for awhile. keep him guessing."

"that's cruel," you mumble.

"he's done crueler," he points out. "you know you don't owe him anything, right?"

"i know i don't," you say, slowly. "i just think that it would kill me not to know how he's doing. if he was going on dates with other people…"

"and would he tell you?"

no, is your automatic answer, one you can't run from in your head, but jisung cuts in.

"he wouldn't go on a date with someone else," he shakes his head, leaning back in his chair so he could stretch out his long limbs. blinking sleep from his eyes, he shook his head again to clear his bangs away from his eyes. it had been late already when he showed up, after a show, bringing food, a tired but giddy smile on his face. "you really fucked him up, that's all i'm going to say."

"he may not go on a date, but he'd fuck someone else, probably." jaemin rolls his eyes.

"we actually haven't fucked in awhile." the realization feels like butterflies in your chest – an uneasy, fluttery feeling.

"what?" jisung looks at you in disbelief. "sorry," he adds, suddenly sheepish when both you and jaemin stare at him. "i just thought that was the big part of your relationship."

"it was…" you say, slowly. ignoring how jisung said 'relationship' when it was really never that. "but…but i don't know. recently we always get distracted…or… or he's… i don't know."

you think of his unmade bed. the careful, tender loop of his arm around your waist. you think of the way his lashes flutter when you lean in to kiss him –

and yet, there was something bigger bothering you about this, something that tugged at your gut, the words forcing themselves out of you.

"i hate that it feels like there's nothing more to me than this."

"y/n, what are you talking about?" jaemin asks, his voice quiet. when you pause, he presses on, urgency in every word. "what did he say to you?"

"nothing," you shake your head. "he didn't say that to me, it's something i feel. no matter who i'm with…even when i'm alone….i can't run from it." you take a breath. you hated admitting this, but jaemin's eyes were kind as they looked into yours. "even when we weren't talking, i was thinking about him…and tonight…jaemin i don't think anyone should be able to make me feel like this."

“there's nothing wrong with being in love," he says, carefully. when you don't say a word, he continues on, as gentle as possible. "you know that no amount of attention he gives you will change the way you feel, right?"

he was right. if you really dared to dream – to use up every last shooting star, count on all of the angel numbers — and haechan, donghyuck, gave himself to you fully like you wanted, you would still be afraid of losing him. a sick flutter beats in your chest at the passing thought of him slipping away again – that all this fight would have been for nothing.

it was as if jaemin could read your mind. "there was a life before him," he reassures you. "there is so much more without him. you just need to start living like it, to really see it."

you had nodded, but you couldn't shake the feeling that no matter how many shows you skipped, no matter how many times you drove by his apartment or ignored his messages, it wouldn't change a thing: that even though there was a life before him, maybe it wasn't one that you wanted anymore.

—

you're cutting through the park on your way home from class, when you hear a shout of your name. you barely have time to turn before a small girl is launching herself at your legs, standing high on her tip-toes to throw her arms around your waist.

"slow down!"

you'd know that voice anywhere.

haechan looks different. he's dressed in a striped sweater, glasses askew on his small nose. your heart skips a beat – he looks warm, and cozy, and comfortable. behind the frames, his eyes glow when he looks at you, an involuntary smile tugging at his lips.

the two of you just stand there, looking into each other's eyes. every sense of yours is heightened – the autumn air cold on your skin. the light catching everything around you. and your heart beating in your chest, speeding up with every moment you continue looking at him. you can't help it: even now you smile looking at his face.

he raises his eyebrows.

"what?" you blurt out, caught off-guard.

he laughs lightly. "what are you doing here?" he asks, like he's explaining a question.

"just…passing through," you say, slowly. "you?"

"the…uh…kindergarten's right near here." haechan point vaguely at a point in the distance, you only look at it for a second before you focus back on him. you can't help it. he smiles again. "you're just passing through? can't you stay for awhile? we were going to get ice cream."

his sister tugs at your sweater, excited at the sound of ice cream. you look down at her face – she has the same nose as her brother, the same bright smile.

"just for a bit," you concede. haechan pumps his fist, playing up his excitement to make his sister laugh. it makes your heart go still and race all at the same time.

—

"we need to talk."

there was something wrong with haechan.

the smell of rain and cigarettes hung in the alley behind the dingy venue. haechan sits on the steps with his head in his hands, jeno leaning on the wall opposite, jisung against the doorway behind. it's mark who stands directly in front of him, as he rubs his face with his hands, trying to calm down. mark who crouches down, mark's prying hands which make haechan lift his head to look at them.

"what happened?" he asks, his eyes blazing.

haechan swallows. "it's been a bad day," he tries, weakly.

"it's been a bad month," jeno corrects. at haechan's glare, he raises his eyebrows in a silent challenge, and it's jisung who pipes up.

"i think people are starting to notice something's off," he says, softly. "that you play differently, sometimes."

"you mean that he messes up when she's not in the crowd," jeno says, bitterly.

"i only messed up today," haechan mumbles. "it won't happen again."

"what about yesterday? it's like you weren't onstage at all." jeno protests.

haechan opens his mouth, but closes it. he knew this conversation had to happen, that things would lead to this – his fingers faltering, his mind going blank as his solo began. jeno's drums continuing relentlessly, mark's eyes on him, as he shook his head fiercely, trying to clear his mind and focus all at once. unsure of what to keep — the image of you, or the chords he'd worked so hard to get right.

"hyuck, do you need a break?" mark asked, his words slow and gentle. "we can stop performing for awhile, cancel some of our gigs…"

"no," he breathes. "don't." he doesn't want to lose all of it – and because he knew that if he stopped performing, he didn't know if he would ever see you again.

and it's like jeno reads his mind. "she's not going to like you like this," jeno says, his voice impersonal. "she likes the version of you onstage, remember? it's how she first met you, it's what kept her coming back for more."

"jeno." mark's voice is stern, but haechan looks up right past him, hurt pooling in his eyes.

"i know," he breathes. "i know that. but i don't know if i can be that around her anymore."

"not just around her," jisung notes. "you're not haechan anymore. it doesn't make you happy."

"i know," he repeats, quieter this time.

"hyuck, listen," mark sighs. "you're not doing yourself any good going onstage like this. i'm canceling the next few shows –" as haechan protests, he cuts him off with a hand on his shoulder. "no. we could all use a break."

"mark," haechan croaks. "i can't."

"we'll still have practice," mark says, firmly. "you still have to show up for all of it. and those songs i told you to work on —"

"you should go home," jisung adds. "take care of your sister."

there's a pause, as they wait for jeno to chime in.

"none of it matters if you don't figure it out with her," he says, a tone of finality ringing in his words. he straightens, broad shoulders squared, suddenly much bigger under the lights. "if you need to get over it, you have to. staying like this is hurting everyone."

haechan's lips part, soundlessly. there's a sharp creak, as jeno stalks back into the venue, followed by mark – who pats haechan gently on the shoulder. vaguely, haechan waits for the sound of jisung's soft steps to fade, but they only shuffle closer, until the lanky boy drops down next to him. his legs stretch out into the dingy alley, as haechan hugs his knees closer to his chest, for the first time perhaps truly afraid of what he was about to hear from his friend.

"sometimes, we meet the right person at the wrong time-" jisung's voice is quiet, almost a murmur, but the words still scrape against haechan's skin, rough like sand.

"don't say that." he bites his lip harshly, a sudden rush of anger at the pity in jisung's responding sigh. "don't fucking say that."

"haechan, it's okay. she liked you, but then she moved on after you realised you —"

"she didn't –" his fist clenches, restless in his lap. "she didn't move on."

"really? not at all?" jisung's eyes are fixed on haechan's, holding his gaze. "after weeks of telling her you couldn't give her what she wanted…you think she's still waiting for you?"

"ji-"

"why should she wait for you?"

haechan swallows. "she shouldn't," he mumbles. "i…i need to really let her go. jeno's right." he truly means it.

jisung hesitates. he's been spending more time with you, as friends – joining on your movie nights with jaemin, or else baking together, or letting you style him for shows and concerts. and the more time he spends with you, really gets to know you, the more he can see why you and haechan seem to need each other. your patience and gentleness matched the soft way he's seen haechan take care of his sister and at times, mark. he watched the way you sometimes falter – worry overtaking your features for a split second when you stop at a red light, or your teeth tugging at your bottom lip as you stand in front of the stove – and instinctively he can imagine haechan's confidence, his natural propensity to make everything seem easy, fitting in with you and taking care of you.

but he knew that haechan could only give you his attention – not his heart, not until he was brave enough to admit how much you meant to him.

your resolve to stay friends with him was as flimsy as haechan's promise to let you go. jisung almost wanted to laugh at the insistence both of you had, upon lying to yourselves.

"be honest," he says, gently. "what do you want?" when haechan doesn't answer, jisung's low voice continues on, coaxingly. "what's your best-case scenario? what do you want to happen?"

haechan takes a deep breath. "i don't know."

jisung tries to hide his disappointment. "do you not know, or are you not ready to say it?"

"i don't know," haechan mumbles again, burying his face in his hands. i don't know if i deserve it.

the two of them sit there for a long, long, time.

–

there was something wrong with haechan.

something's different. that's what jeno had said earlier, after the show. exhausted from sleepless nights, screaming fans making him feel nauseous, haechan barely paid attention to anything during his performances except for his own guitar. he hardly looked at the crowd, didn't acknowledge their pleas of his name, as if it wasn't one he recognised at all.

he'd started missing parties, and was barely there even if he showed — ignoring the way girls swarmed around him, wondering if he was playing a new game, one where they had to work harder to earn his attention. it was a game they never won, his eyes trained on his cup, or else on the door.

but out of all of haechan's bad habits, this might be the worst of them – sitting in the living room past midnight, sipping down to the last dregs of his alcohol, waiting for the knock on his door.

it was late now — so late that the hours had bled into the next day. he hadn't seen you at the concert, not at the party, and despite telling himself not to dream, not to hope, he still carried enough desperation in him to stay up again.

he's relieved he did.

his hands shake as he opens the door. his hands falling to his sides as he drinks in the sight of you, letting you in.

"hi," you breathe, and you don't ask before you lean into him, soft lips brushing his plush ones.

he's at a loss for words, his tongue numb in his mouth, limbs still heavy from how tired he'd been all day. he lets you guide him to the couch, into the cushions. lets you straddle his hips, holding your body close to his with careful arms, as he meets your kisses gently.

something's different, but haechan's not the only one who's changed. on nights like these, all you do is take and take and take.

"i haven't seen you in a while," he murmurs. quietly, softly, the words almost getting lost between kisses. immediately after he says the words, he slots his lips with yours firmly, as if afraid of what you would say if he let the space between you and him grow.

"i've been busy." at the crestfallen look on his face, a small smile tugs at your lips, and you lean in to brush your lips with his. "why? did you miss me?"

"i did," he says, almost timid. "i missed you."

at this, you raise your eyebrows. "you could have had anyone else."

but he shakes his head. "i missed you," he repeats, hands mapping your skin, as if checking if you were really here, seeking the familiar way you fit into his palms, your slopes and your edges.

"i missed you too," you say, meaningfully, letting him pull you in for another kiss. but when you push against him, body rocking into his and mouth open and wanting, the glow in your eyes tells him you're talking about something else entirely.

his mind races. the feeling of you against him wakes him up like nothing else, the way you touch him, your smell and your taste setting fire to all his senses. there's something sweet about your lips tonight, something he wants to savor on his tongue and drown in all at once.

he doesn't want to waste any of this, because this was the only thing you ever wanted to see him for — and that's what he tells himself as he pulls you into his body, because finally, finally, your attention is all on him, an electric heat simmering over each fibre of his being, the feeling of your body too sweet to be true.

but it's been one too many nights he's waited, a weight on his chest and a drowsiness he can't shake overcoming him like a cloyingly sweet poison.

"i–" he's cut off by a shuddering inhale as your lips travel down to his neck, your hips grinding against him just right. "baby, i'm sorry," he tries again, his hands now gripping onto your waist, trying to steady you, even as he gives up. "i don't think i can take care of you tonight."

you still.

"don't go, please," he begs. "i'm sorry, it's been…it's been a long day and i…" he breaks off. the performance. the fight with the band. the fact that he'd been drinking for hours, the starless sky inky black outside his window, his fingers still stinging from plucking at guitar strings all night. "just give me a second," he stammers, burying his face in his hands, tugging at his features, before looking up at you with tired eyes. "i'll be fine in a minute, then we'll go to the bedroom, i just —"

your hands slide down the slope of his shoulders.

"don't go," he repeats, hands fumbling for yours as he brings them up to his lips, like a prayer. "i can take care of you, i promise. just…"

"donghyuck," you say, softly. again you smile, cupping his face in your palms. his round cheeks, plush lips, the slight flare of his nose. he almost goes cross-eyed staring at you, as you lean in close and kiss him again – this one different from the rest, close-lipped and chaste.

"hyuck, let me take care of you tonight, okay?"

caught in a riptide of his own longing, he lets go.

"you don't have to do anything," he mumbles. his hands tentatively touch your waist, the barest brush of his fingertips, before he's encircling you in his arms, easing you into his chest. slowly, tentatively, he holds you close by the weight of his arms, a large hand reassuringly patting the space right beneath your heart – clumsy, rhythmic thumps that trailed off into a lingering warmth. "i just want to hold you here, like this."

he can feel the tension that spreads down your spine, your breath caught in your throat. your lips are parted, your eyes looking at his in an unreadable expression.

"do you not like it?" he asks, his voice small. his hands fall from your waist, nervously tugging his sleeves down over his palms. "i…i'm just…"

"i do," you say, slowly. and because your faces are so close, the thought is barely crossing your mind before you press your lips against his. it's supposed to be quick, reassuring, but the look on haechan's face when you pull back makes you lean in again right away.

it was a look that was open and hurt, his hands still tangled in his lap. his eyes stayed open as you kissed him, as if he couldn't dare believe it was real — finally blinking shut when you kissed him again, his slight relief melting on your tongue. his teeth sunk into his bottom lip as you clumsily got up off the couch, and as you straightened, he ducked away from your gaze, staring at his hands.

"hyuck," you start, but he shakes his head.

"it's fine." he still wouldn't look at you - fiddling with the hem of his shirt. "you don't have to stay, it's late."

"hyuck, listen to me."

"i know," he says, quickly. the slightest trace of fear in his voice. "you don't….you don't have to remind me, i know. it's too…you said we couldn't…"

" — hyuck, i wasn't going to say that."

his fingers falter, but he stays silent.

"i can't fall asleep properly in your lap," you explain, slowly. "let's go to bed, okay?"

he looks up then. "really?"

"i said i want to take care of you," you repeat, his wide eyes making you feel shy all of a sudden. "i mean it."

he lets you take his hands, body following pliantly as he stands from the couch, as you lead him to his bedroom, his eyes focused on your intertwined hands. it's both a familiar and unfamiliar feeling — crawling into his bed with his clothes on your body, sinking into the soft sheets and letting the senses of him wash over you. the usual buzz of pleasure isn't there, and its a different tiredness that seeps through your veins, one that comes with feeling safe.

since when did you start feeling safe with him?

you feel his weight sink in behind you, the duvet rustling against skin as he turns. an arm curls around your waist. his head lowers into the crook of your neck – you can feel his soft hair, his pouty lips brushing your shoulders in a light kiss.

"the band is taking a break," he mumbles. "because of me."

"hyuck?" you try to turn in his arms, but his grip only tightens on your waist. he shakes his head. "hyuck, what happened? are you okay?"

"m'yeah, i'm okay now." he shifts. "just…i just don't know if i like playing in the band anymore."

there's a pause.

"are you…are you disappointed?" the thumb drawing circles on your hip stills. "say something," he whispers. "please."

"why would i be disappointed?" you ask, quietly. placing your hand on his, you turn, facing him as he encircles you in his arms. his eyes are half-lidded, tousled hair falling over his brows, his cheek squished against the pillow into a half-pout. it's almost instinct – the way your hand goes up to his face to brush his hair out of his face, fingers absentmindedly tracing his moles.

you can feel his lips move against your fingers. "would you still come to see me?" he wonders, softly. "if you didn't have a reason to?"

you bite your lip. "i would want to…" you say, slowly. "but i don't know if i should. haechan, what's going on? does music not make you happy anymore?"

his heart aches. your care for him fills his lungs, making his eyes begin to prickle with tears.

"i don't think the haechan…donghyuck thing is good for me."

"oh." your thumb brushes over the bridge of his nose. "hyuck…" you start. "i don't…i don't want to overstep."

his face falls. "sorry," he says, his voice small. "i won't bother you with it…you don't have to…"

"no, i don't mean…hey, listen to me." you wait until he looks up at you through his lashes, nervously. "i think i've gotten to know haechan and donghyuck, you know? i mean…" your heart skips a beat, suddenly shy at your own honesty. but you've already let your guard down – it's no use. "of course i like haechan. haechan's the one who invited me backstage, haechan's the one who made me go on that rooftop…but…" you take a breath.

the sleep had worn off from haechan's eyes – he was alert as he watched you now, hanging onto your every word.

"i've gotten to know donghyuck too, i think. i hope. donghyuck makes the best sandwiches for his baby sister, donghyuck has a bear tattoo because he looks as cute as one, donghyuck is always gentle with me even when i ask him not to be." your thumb traces the constellation of moles he has again, tracing down to his neck. you draw him closer – the way he's looking at you: like you're his entire world, like your words were the only thing keeping him breathing, filling your chest with a tender kind of ache that didn't go away.

"donghyuck and haechan aren't that different, not really. they're still you. i like them both. i like all of you. if you woke up tomorrow and told me you were someone else, if you were suddenly becoming someone new, i think i'd still want to fall asleep next to you anyway at the end of the day. because i know you –" you breathe in, sharply. "i…i think i do. i…hope i do."

he doesn't say anything. just leans in, and brushes his lips with yours lightly – once, twice, and finally sealing them in a kiss. he kisses you deeply, intensely – it wakes you up, that familiar feeling stirring in your belly as your hips move of their own accord. a liquid euphoria fills your veins as he pulls you into him – him on his back, you laying on his firm chest, the toned muscles on his chest grounding you, a feeling so familiar, one that you craved for a long time. you've never felt safer, in his arms. he kisses you like with every moment apart, he wonders if you're still there, and each time he sighs into your mouth it's with relief that you're still here, with him.

"do you want to…?" he asks softly. he's breathing heavily, but he tries to calm himself down. his tongue darts out to wet his lips, and it's that act – so innocent, so nervous even though you've both done it a dozen times with each other, that makes your heart beat harder in your chest.

"it's been awhile," you murmur.

"i know." he nods, swallowing. "it just…it hasn't felt right. don't…don't get me wrong, i want you all the time-" he practically groans with frustration. "it's just recently i just…i've been really confused. it's so stupid, but i didn't know which version of me you wanted –"

"just you," you assure him, softly.

"let me make it up to you then." his tone is just as soft.

you take his hands, and slide them under your shirt. gently, he tugs it off of you, sitting up slightly to take his shirt off as well before focusing back on you. you're giddy with the feeling of his touch again, nostalgia heightening every single sensation. it's not just hyuck tracing his hands over your chest – his lips finding your nipples, tongue darting out to tease them lightly. it's every single time he's touched you before – in the backseat of his car, hands moving urgently. in your bed that first time – so careful because you were extra sensitive. you have to focus to get back to the present moment, where he's watching you carefully again – noticing that you're lost in your thoughts.

"everything okay?" he murmurs.

you nod. "i just missed you so much," you whisper, and you can feel his desperation in the kiss that follows. "i need you now."

"need to prep you, baby." gently, he eases you onto the bed, crawling down your body as you tug off your shorts and panties. your legs spread, needily, as you can feel him inch closer to your core, his hands coming to hold your hips. "stay still for me?" he mumbles, his eyes dazed as he watches you nod, his own head bobbing along absentmindedly, guiding you through it as he encourages you to bend your knees, baring yourself to him.

the first flick of his tongue on your clit makes you mewl, hands coming down to grip onto his hair.

"i know, baby," he comforts you, drawing small circles on your thigh as he leans into suckle your clit, making your hips buck up. he holds you still, patiently continuing to circle your entrance and lap at your clit. "fuck…you're getting so wet, angel." he slides in a finger, and the intrusion makes you clench around him in sensitivity, especially as he kitten-licks your clit shyly while easing in another finger.

"need you now," you whine, voice reaching that pitch only he seems to bring out in you. his fingers pump more urgently, now curling towards the front of your walls, as he applies more force to your clit with his tongue, massaging the sensitive bud.

"need you-" you choke out. "need you inside."

"just give me one right now," he says, a slight plea to his voice. "please, angel. cum for me please, –"

"wanna cum with you inside," you sniffle. that gets his attention. he crawls right up your body until you're face to face, kissing you deeply, palms coming up to hold your face, careful to keep his fingers away. it's heated – your hips rolling into his as he finally loses control, hips bucking into yours until he's practically humping you as he kisses down your neck. your hands go to his waist, and he whimpers into your skin, finally tugging down his sweatpants, and you feel a familiar weight against your core.

"condom-" he gasps, breaking away. the muscles on his body flex as he reaches for his bedside table, you can feel them move against your hands.

"have you been fucking anyone else?"

he blinks. "no, not since…" he breaks off. "no. and i'm clean. mark made me check." the sound of your giggle makes him smile momentarily – a goofy, lopsided grin that makes your heart squeeze painfully in your chest.

"i want to feel you-" you say, slowly. "please."

he sucks in a breath. "this…this isn't one of those things you're trying to do to please me, right?" he looks at you, skeptically. "it doesn't make a difference to me, you know that right? i just want you to feel comfortable. and safe…"

"i am comfortable," you assure him. "i'm on the pill. i really just want to do this with you."

"because-" he suddenly sits back, running a nervous hand through his hair. "i'm fine with using protection, you know that. i…i love how you feel either way. i never want you to do anything you don't feel absolutely right about…"

"is this about the blowjob?" you raise your eyebrows at him, smiling when you see his eyes widen. "because i'm going to do that too, with you. i want to make you feel good."

now it's his turn to laugh, tilting his head back. his adam's apple bobs in his throat. "you have no idea-" he murmurs, voice suddenly low and serious. "you have no idea how good you make me feel just by the way you look at me. by the way you say my name."

"hyuck," you say, patiently. "i need you. don't make me beg."

"i should be the one begging," he murmurs, and this time when you reach your arms out, he lowers himself right into your arms, letting you wrap your arms around him. he strokes himself a few times, eyelashes fluttering, before slowly easing into you – a soft sound escaping his lips as his eyes went unfocused. it really had been awhile – his length filling you up, stretching you out in a way that was almost painful, but that pain was quickly dulled by pleasure as his body pressed against yours.

"fuck-" he curses, eyes screwed shut in concentration. "can i…can i please…"

you rock your hips against him, letting him in even deeper as he bottoms out. "move-" you whimper, "please-" you barely finish your words before he's already drawing back, barely pulling out before fucking himself back in, short intense thursts feeling dizzying. his slender fingers find your clit again, applying a light pressure as the blunt tip of cock perfectly hits the spongy part of your walls, the sound obscene in the quiet room. you were so aroused, you felt that you were making a mess of his thighs – wetness making the scene seem ever more lewd, creaming around his length as he increased his speed, groaning lowly to himself.

"cum for me, princess," he pleads, lips dipping down to mark the sensitive part of your neck. you were already close from all the teasing – and once again the familiarity of every touch and movement sends your senses into overdrive. your entire body tenses as you climax, and you can hear him hiss out another string of curses, mixed with your name and every term of endearment under the sun.

"where do you want it?" he all but whimpers, hips still fucking into you like a reflex.

"inside-" you mumble, ankles loosely hooking behind his back, trying to stop him from moving away. "hyuck, please come inside, fill me up please-" with a soft cry, he pushes in deep – and you can feel him cum inside you, making a mess between your thighs, the feeling so arousing that it awakens something inside you, and your hips begin to move – begging for more.

"wait-" he pants. "give me a minute, angel-" his eyes are closed again, head lowered, as he pushes through the overstimulation, feeling his soft cock slowly begin to harden again. the sounds falling from his throat now are scratchy, hoarse whines – a sound so dirty it makes your heart beat even faster, a sense of defiled innocence you've only ever heard in his music. the angle in which he's rutting into you stimulating your clit, pushing you closer to your edge as you fuck up onto him.

"hyuck?" you push his bangs out of his eyes, tracing your hands over his shoulders, his chest. your fingers brush past his nipples and his mouth falls open with need, an achy sound releasing from the back of his throat, his puffy lips parted obscenely. you pinch his nipples again, gently, experimentative, and you feel his body shudder as he cums again, this time going still. it's so fucking arousing, an different side to him that you've never seen, that you feel yourself climax as well, the stimulation overwhelming.

the both of you lay there for awhile, before he seems to come to his senses — a shaky hand moving the hair out of your face.

he looks at you, and you look at him.

and as if he can't help himself, he kisses you again – this time so soft and gentle, almost as if it were the first time all over again.

"you alright?" he mumbles.

you nod.

"let's clean up in a second," he breathes. "just…let's stay like this for awhile."

you nod again. you don't trust your own voice. something is happening – something tastes different in the air, something in the way you're looking at each other, something in the way he's touching you now – as if you might break or bruise if he even let his fingerprints get onto your skin. in the way he's looking at you now – something urgent in his gaze.

"are you…are you free tomorrow night?"

"i am." you sound stronger than you feel.

"can i take you somewhere?"

pause. "yeah." you give him a small smile. "i'd like that."

the smile that breaks out across his face is one that you know like the back of your hand.

–

sitting across from you now, with your plates already cleared away and all that's left is your last few sips of wine, it hits you how that this is the most normal setting you've been in with him, possibly ever. his long legs stretched out under the table over by your chair, gently placing down his wine glass as he looks at you, his expression soft. his face is lit up by candlelight, hair falling over his brows in a hopelessly endearing way.

"you good?" he murmurs.

you nod. things feel cozy, and comfortable – it's a feeling so foreign but at the same time so familiar, you have to keep reminding yourself that this is real.

he bites his lip. "pretend i'm jisung," he says, impulsively. "and…and you're describing how this went to him. how…how did you find it?"

you give him a look, but he looks so shy, so nervous to be asking you this question, that you decide to play along.

"well, jisung-" you take a deep breath, smiling when you see him smile too. "haechan picked me up today, that was really nice-"

"-sounds like the bare minimum," he mumbles back, head bent.

"well, yeah it kind of is. but he doesn't have the best track record." you see him wince, so you let that comment linger for awhile before continuing on. "he's been a gentleman today. he…he took me to a restaurant that he found out i've been meaning to go to for awhile now, because he asked jaemin beforehand."

"and that's…creepy? doing too much?"

"it was thoughtful," you mused. "even though he made the reservation for the wrong date…"

"fucker," he shakes his head.

"...it was nice because we got to go to walk around, and there was this moment, um…" his head darts up. now you can see him break character – something piercingly vulnerable in the way his bambi-brown eyes shine.

you swallow. "we were crossing the street…and he put his hand on my lower back, just to guide me forward, and when we got to the other side he took my hand in his and just…held it-"

he's looking at you, slightly confused and a little nervous.

"yeah?"

"he…he usually only acts like that when we're alone…when there's no one around." he still looks lost, so you reach forward across the table, taking his hand in yours. as if on instinct, his hand squeezes yours. "it's sweet," you reassure him. "it was really sweet."

he bites his lip, but nods to show that he understands.

there's silence, for a bit. you think of breaking the silence, of saying anything, when suddenly he clears his throat slightly, sitting up a little straighter.

"hey, mark-" now he's doing the same bit, and it catches you by surprise a little - making you smile. "yeah, i'm still with y/n. i...uh...i fucked up the reservation, you were right, i should've checked again..."

"i really like spending time with her," he says, slowly. "i...i can't stop staring at her - she looks so beautiful tonight. and...and i can't believe she's finally here with me, that i somehow didn't fuck this up. and um...we were in this record store just now...and i was listening to her talk about an album she liked -" a smile plays on his lips as he recalls the memory. you suddenly become aware that your heart is beating hard again, pounding in your ribs. "and she was so excited, and she kept laughing as she talked, and...and i just realised i would do anything to make her that happy, all the time. and that i want it to be me, i want to be the reason she smiles like that."

you swallow.

"haechan..."

"you don't have to say anything-" he rushes to say. "i just...i just wanted you - i mean, uh, mark - to know."

"okay." you take a deep breath. "and um, i want jisung to know that-"

"yeah?"

"i like spending time with him too," you say, faintly.

he nods, but he doesn't smile.

as the car pulls up to your driveway, the quiet hum of the engine is silenced – headlights turned off, only the soft glow of streetlights casting their pools of gold over haechan's face. it's so quiet, you hear the shaky breath he takes as he steadies himself.

"i have something for you," he murmurs. you can feel the warmth radiating off his body as he leans to pick something up from the backseat, the comforting smell of his perfume making your heart warm. but then you hear the crinkle of paper, his hair falling over his face as he sits back into the driver's seat, and your heart falls in a completely different way – your insides rushing with inertia, dizzy and heady – because he's holding a bouquet of dark red roses. they're wrapped sweetly, tied off with a piece of red ribbon to match the blooms, and your eyes linger on the way his fingers tremble as he holds them out to you with both hands.

his starts to speak, but whatever he falters as he watches you stare at the soft petals, stems completely stripped of their thorns – and he bites his lower lip, breath caught in his throat.

"too much?" he asks, softly. "i just thought…i just…mark and jisung said it would be a good idea," he stammers, lowering the bouquet as one of his hands falls to his thighs, nervously clenching his fists. "i was supposed to give them to you when i picked you up, but i got scared…you don't have to take them, i just thought…i wasn't thinking-"

your hand closes around his hand holding the flowers. your other goes to his face, your thumb brushing his cheek as he falls silent, his eyes fixed on yours, caught in the haze of your touch. slowly, so as not to startle him, you lean in and kiss him gently. it's a beat before he kisses you back, as if he couldn't believe it, and when you pull away just slightly with a soft sound, you can see the nervousness in his eyes. and so you lean in to kiss him again – you kiss him until his lashes flutter shut, until you can feel him settle in his seat, sighing into your mouth as he kisses you deeply. you pull the flowers into your lap, his hand giving up control easily, coming up to your face to hold you in his palms.

"hyuck."

he pauses, leaning back – but his hands only leave your face when you hold them in your own, guiding them down to rest against the center console, your fingers intertwined.

"i never want you to feel like i'm ashamed of being seen with you," he blurts out suddenly.

"what?"

"i never meant to let it get that far," he continues on, looking at his hands. "when i first met you…i wanted you to be like everyone else. i tried to do what i always do, but i just couldn't. you kept getting in my head, and i kept hurting you, and i didn't know how to stop and i just-" he exhales. "i never want to make you feel like that again."

"hyuck, was this a date?"

he swallows. "if you want it to be," he starts, but then he shakes his head. "the truth is, i was afraid you would say no if it was. but i really want it to be. i really really do."

"hyuck," you take a deep breath. "whatever you're going through, you're not going to find the answer in me."

"y/n, i love you," he says, quietly, tenderly. he says it like it's the easiest thing in the world. "i want to be a person who deserves to be with you, and love you, and i know you think you can't change me, and it isn't your responsibility to try at all…but you already have, and you can't take it back. when i'm with you i feel like i can see this version of donghyuck that i want to be all the time for the rest of my life."

"no two people should change to be with each other –" you start, but he shakes his head.

"we aren't a scenario," he insists. "this isn't a hypothetical. there's no should and shouldn't, because you know me –" he's pleading. "i'm not the same boy you saw onstage that first time you came to our show, and you're not that same girl on the roof," he pleads, voice breaking, tears welling up in the pretty cut of his eyes. "why is it so hard for you to believe that this version of us is meant to be together?"

there's silence.

"i can believe it," you start, quietly. "that's what terrifies me."

you can see him start to lose hope. he can't force you to stay with him when you're not ready, and he doesn't want to be that person either.

"i…" he hesitates. he wants to say so much more to you – that no one else makes him feel the way you make him feel. that he feels like he'll never love anyone again, not the way he loves you. the fact that you're it for him in a million different ways, a love he never thought he'd find. that he'll never be able to give anyone else a fair chance.

but he can tell his love makes your shoulders heavy, makes your eyes go foggy with tears. already, you look shattered sitting in the passenger seat of his car, his love a weight on your chest that you don't know what to do with. already he's losing whatever bravery he had before – the bravery his love for you had given him.

"sometimes-" you start, breaking off, your voice quivering. "when we're together, i feel like i could do it for the rest of my life. that you're the only one i've met to make me feel this way, that i'm the only one who knows you so deep."

"you are," he breathes.

"but-" your voice rises, agitated. "you hurt me. again and again. i came back when i wasn't ready, i should've given it more time, i just couldn't stay away. and then you came back into my life, and i forgave you to be with you again, and i tried to give other people a chance but i just…i just couldn't. what if this is too soon again?"

i'll wait. the words are on the tip of his tongue, but he knows its the wrong thing to say, wrong thing to want. there's nothing romantic about waiting for someone – it's a cruel promise, one that rots each day going by in the wait for the future.

"do you…" he takes a deep breath. "do you want to let me go?"

you nod, slowly. haechan can feel his heartbeat in his ears.

"i'm not sorry," you whisper. "it's not right. you…i know you think you know what you want, but i need you to be sure of who you are, and who you want. i can't give you the answers."

haechan remembers how – and it seems so far away, almost like a dream now – the night you went out with jisung, he dreamed of you. dreamed up the final version of you and him – everything good and always good, coming backstage to you, coming home to you. and some part of him had dared to hope, that despite everything, despite himself, the two of you would make it to that final version.

but maybe the final version of you and him was this – the sound of the car door shutting as you walk up the steps to your apartment, and him crying all the way home, roses left in the front seat of the car, the ghost of your hands burning on his face.

(EPILOGUE RELEASE SOON)

@neochan, @ahncosette, @18shy @kittydollzz @jenoslutie @pussymode @yyfka @cheolctrl @jaeminsballs @mysummerhyuck @strawberrytyong @rosiejunnie @nctzen4eva @haechskies @wickedrei @sundamariis @liliansun @lanadreamie @nodisdino @angelwonie @foxydumps @manooffline @moonsmias @skzct7 @iscocohere @ficrecnctskz @makiswrld @itskkung @simpforarmihn @aryraaaa @rbf-aceu @laubyrinthine @yujuvly @nctevia @hyuckenjoyer @guhhfgbbj @girlwholoveslpreppyattire @kasperneo @eneiyri @toroufriteh @cauliephays @jisoung @niinjo @wonaoi @yuskitty @strawbabyz @readingisgodly @daegalfangirl @minkyuncutie @feat-sun @chaoticstrawberryland @shawnyle @sofix-hc7 @scftharu @spageddy @adorejaehyn @manooffline @02mrk @tyongspice1 @runahways @neosdaisy @hotmessexpress35 @kim-seungmins-gf @delllllllsstuff @nohunlee @kingsoowolves @enhasrii @fnafgirl87 @imzerozen @toroufriteh @torothecatt

#haechan smut #fic: rockstar haechan #haechan angst #haechan fluff #haechan au #haechan x reader #nct dream smut #nct dream angst #nct smut #nct angst #haechan scenario #nct 127 smut #nct 127 angst #donghyuck smut

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astroniii · 5 months ago

Text

GOOD GRACES

pairing: Lando Norris x Pop Star Reader

faceclaim: Isabela Merced

masterlist

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2021

2023

Liked by landonorris, sabrinacarpenter, oliviarodrigo, and 3,684,937 others

yourusername found a new muse 💋

user1 OMFG FINALLY!

user2 SHE TOOK A YEAR OFF, BUT MOTHER IS BACK TO BREAK RECORDS!

user3 OH SHE’S HERE TO SERVE

user4 I’M SO EXCITED!

user5 no cause FINALLY!

user6 PLEASE TELL ME YOU ARE RELEASING MUSIC THIS YEAR!

user7 DON’T MAKE US WAIT ANOTHER YEAR FOR THIS RELEASE!

user8 A NEW MUSE? IS PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE GETTING A SISTER?

| user9 PLEASE BE ANOTHER GOOD GRACES

| user10 I WANT ANOTHER LOVE IS | EMBARRASSING!

user11 are we finally getting a love song from you!

| user12 OMG I NEVER REALIZED SHE HAS | NEVER WROTE A LOVE SONG! NOT EVEN ABOUT | TOM AND THEY WERE TOGETHER FOR 3 YEARS!

| user13 May not have gotten love songs | from her relationship with Tom, but we | did get please please please and good | graces

Liked by sabrinacarpenter, landonorris, alexandrasaintmleux, oliviarodrigo, and 7,263,759 others

yourusername my new album “positions” is out next month! 💋 here is a preview to the album with my new song “bed chem”! Thank you guys for the wait and being patient with me for the last year! I hope you all like the song ❤️

user1 BED CHEM! BED CHEM!

user2 WE GOT A SEX SONG! 🥵

| user3 MORE LIKE A SEX FANTASY SONG!

user4 MAM! MAM! WHO IS THE SONG ABOUT!

user5 “Who's the cute boy with the white jacket and the thick accent?” itches my brain in just the right way!

user6 WHO DO WE KNOW THAT HAS AN ACCENT AND GREEN EYES!

sabrinacarpenter I can’t wait to hear the rest of the album 💕

user7 “COME RIGHT ON ME, I MEAN CAMARADERIE” WHO’S GOT YOU THIS HORNY! 👀

user8 “MANIFEST THAT YOU’RE OVERSIZED” MISS MAM! 😂

user9 YOU’VE BEEN HANGING OUT WITH @/sabrinacarpenter too much

| user10 NONSENSE AND BED CHEM ARE | SISTERS!

Liked by landonorris, francisca.cgomes, alexandrasaintmleux, iambeckyg, and 9,236,682 others

yourusername POSITIONS IS OUT NOW! 💕

user1 WE FINALLY GOT LOVE SONGS FROM HER!

user2 SHE’S HORNY AND IN LOVE

user3 WHO IS THIS MYSTERY MAN THAT HAS YOU WRITING LOVE SONGS! 🕵️

user4 34+35 is the horniest song on the album 🥵

user5 OMG! WE GOT A SPANISH SONG!

user6 ALBUM OF THE YEAR!

user7 THE BOY IS MINE! LIKE BRANDY AND MONICA!

user8 THIS ALBUM IS PERFECTION! 🥰

user9 NO SKIPS ❤️

user10 NOT ONLY DID WE GET A LOVE SONG, BUT WE GOT MORE THAN ONE!

user11 THE QUEEN OF POP

user12 I’ll give you $5 if you tell me who these songs are about!

2024

yourusername posted a story

Liked by landonorris, oscarpiastri, mclaren, alexandrasaintmleux, and 7,486,992 others

yourusername Thank you so much for @/mclaren for having me! 💕 Can’t wait to see the race tomorrow! 🏁

user1 OMG, SHE’S AT THE MIAMI GP!

user2 YOU’RE TELLING ME SHE WAS THERE TODAY AND I DIDN’T MEET HER! 😭

mclaren It was an honor having you! We can’t wait to see you again tomorrow!

user3 MCLAREN? I figured Red Bull or Ferrari would’ve invited her

oscarpiastri It was nice to finally meet you!

| yourusername It was nice meeting you | too! I can’t wait to see the race | tomorrow!

| user4 WHAT DO YOU MEAN FINALLY!

alexandrasaintmleux I can’t believe you were here and I didn’t get to see you!

| yourusername We can meet up tomorrow, | pretty girl!

user5 My two worlds are colliding 🤯

user6 THE PICTURES OF LANDO AND OSCAR

landonorris It was good having you today! I hope you’re ready for the race tomorrow!

| yourusername I was born ready! I better | see you on the podium tomorrow

Liked by yourusername, lnfour, and 3,126,026 others

landonorris WWE FUCKIJG DID IT. P1 🏆

user1 LFG!

user2 CONGRATS! 👏

user3 YOU DESERVE IT LANDO! 🧡🏆

user4 WHY IS NOBODY TALKING ABOUT THAT KISS! ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME!

user5 YOU’RE DATING @/yourusername! WHAT THE FUCK!

user6 THE WAY HE RAN TO HER AFTER GETTING OUT OF THE CAR! 😭

yourusername CONGRATULATIONS BABY! I KNEW YOU CAN DO IT! 🧡

user7 LANDO NOWINS WHO! 📢

yourusername I’M SO HAPPY FOR YOU!

Liked by landonorris, maxfewtrell, sabrinacarpenter, alexandrasaintmleux, and 11,232,743 others

tagged: landonorris

yourusername I guess the cat’s out of the bag 💕

user1 ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME!

user2 WHAT THE FUCK! WHAT THE FUCK! THE HARD LAUNCH!

user3 YOU ARE TELLING ME POSITIONS IS ABOUT LANDO NORRIS!

user4 YOU ARE SO FUCKING CUTE TOGETHER 😭

user5 MOTHER IS IN LOVE ❤️

landonorris God, I love you so fucking much! 🧡

| yourusername I love you too, my race | winner 🧡

user6 SHE WROTE ALL THESE HORNY SONGS ABOUT HIM!

user7 ANOTHER WHITE MAN 😭

alexandrasaintmleux Does this mean I will see you around the paddock more often?

| yourusername of course! I can’t wait to | hang out with you more beautiful!

user8 @/landonorris DON’T FUCK IT UP! I NEED @/yourusername TO WRITE MORE LOVE SONGS!

user9 LANDO NORRIS IS THE CUTE GUY WITH GREEN EYES AND A THICK ACCENT!

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2K notes · View notes

fairene · 4 months ago

Text

passenger princess / ln4

established relationship lando norris x fem!reader

no use of y/n, as always.

in which the weekend takes a twist, and all you want is a baby.

prompt⋯ hi! first of all, i absolutely ADORE your writing. i’ve been reading all of your stuff for the past few days!! second, i was scrolling on pinterest and i rediscovered the lando daddy bracelet pic. that combined with THE dutch gp pic made me be down even worse for him. with that i request a fic with an established reader x lando relationship. that’s set during the weekend of the 2024 dutch gp. where he wears the bracelet over the course of the weekend and it gets you(? or me? idk how to phrase that) really worked up, and after he wins they fuck while he’s still wearing it. and it’s like the most rough feral sex known to mankind. but at the end you want him to come in you and he’s like “oh you wanna make me a daddy”. like yes it is a slight breeding kink but it’s more of the idea of the bracelet and how he definitely knew what he was doing when he wore it (in the fic and irl too tbh). that’s the general idea but feel free to put your own spin on it!! i am incredibly down bad for him and that photo did something to me. ty 🤗🧡

a/n ⋯ yeah tbh i got no excuse for this one chat...like...how could i not resist a breeding kink...i know y'all want it too. but for real--- thank you anon for being patient. i had a lot of fun writing this in between doing work. writing is an escape for me. thank you to all for the continued support, and i'll be continuing to get through asks as time moves along. comment below to be added to my taglist, or comment in general! i love replying to all of them as much as i can.

warnings ⋯ SMUT 18+++!!! minors DNI!!!, language, choking, p in v sex (wrap before you tap!), fingering!(f)receiving, breeding kink, impregnation, teasing, possessiveness, jealousy, creampie, begging, mating press-- allat shit tbh. if i miss a warning, let me know.

wc ⋯ 8.5k (unedited.)

things had begun to be different between you and lando. you couldn’t pinpoint the exact moment when the gears shifted, the stars aligned, though you only cared how good it made you feel with him.

but he knew. he knew exactly when.

you’d been dating lando for two years now. it was two years of pure bliss— the exciting lifestyle that you’ve craved, the love and care, the passion that you shared with him was exquisitely yours. he is yours. and you are his.

that morning in the paddock he was speaking to max, chattering about the post collision from hungaroring. they seemed to make up in due time, finding it easier to call one another “brother’s” again, despite the damages done to their cars and the media in an uproar about their impish, punitive behaviors. you didn’t spare any glance towards the comments made about it, knowing that lando had been in a rough shape that weekend.

you played with penelope, p, as they were talking, squatted on the ground with colored pens in your hand. kelly loomed behind, on her phone, thankful enough that you could occupy her for the time being. you had no issue entertaining her. you loved being around children…most of the time.

“this one?” you held out the red pen for p, as she was pointing to with a bashful look. she was shy– especially around you, given your ethereal, wanderlust nature. you carried yourself in such an elegant way that could facilitate a ray of sunlight through the most tepid storms.

she nodded and you handed it to her. she latched her smaller hand around it, coloring in the rb20 from her sketchbook. your hand fell beneath your chin as you watched her carefully color inside the lines, dreading falling out of it. you smiled as she did, the dress you wore crinkling fashionably around your thighs.

p flashed the page at you nervously, awaiting her input. your eyes glowed, sparkles falling onto the page as you scanned it. she really did do a good job.

“beautiful, p!” you commented, your palm splaying over her upper back. “you’re really good at this, you know?”

a shade of red filled her cheeks, warming her skin. you hadn’t meant to embarrass her, nor make her nervous.

“do you want to color one with me?” you asked her, pointing to the pages in the book. she hesitated for a moment, as if she didn’t hear you properly, but ended up nodding with the same excitement that she did when she’d see max on the podium. “you pick. something…pretty.”

the gears were turning in her head as she flipped through the pages, trying to find the perfect one for you and her to work on. you, on the other hand, were focused on how her brows scrunched together as she furiously searched through her booklet. it was cute the way she perceived things. she was a cutie. it made you think about your own future, what you wanted.

what you wanted,

your eyes drifted from the carpeted floors inside the hospitality room, to the shoes that he wore, and up his black jeans to the papaya livery he sported for the day. you lingered on the expanse of his chest, the tan skin peaking through the v-neck of his unbuttoned collar. your mouth watered instinctively, thinking about how lucky you were to have a man like lando love you so deeply.

as you glanced further up towards his chin, the unshaved rigid surface that sparked electricity over your body, you found him already looking down at you. he wasn’t even paying attention to max at this point, already giving you all of his attention and you didn’t even need to ask.

you gave him a smile, covering your lips afterward to stifle your giggle, and turned back to p once she tapped you that she’d found a picture for the two of you to color.

“mate?”

lando was lost in a daze staring at you. gawking at your figure, the dress you decided to wear. it was a denim colored sheath that you’d twin with alexandra with. she’d wear the gia dress in a pomegranate hue, whereas you took the navy.

lando’s hand was cupped against his chin, rubbing over his stubble, keen on watching how you interacted with p.

your relationship had progressed further than he’s ever gotten to before in his life. he was at a point where he knew he didn’t want anyone else, to explore someone else’s body the way he did yours. he knew you, inside and out, and he didn’t think another connection was even fathomable.

you appeared to be so gentle with her, taking the time to listen to what she wanted you to do, how to color, maneuver the pens. there would be no outside the line coloring on her watch, that was for sure.

he found himself smiling bright.

do you want kids?

he knew that he did. he always knew that. but he’d never broach the subject to you directly. your relationship with him was secure, but was it eligible to be taken to the next level? would you be frightened by his sudden urge to create a life with you? a product of him, and the most beautiful woman he’s ever seen?

“yeah? sorry.” lando looked back towards max. but it was too late, and max was looking over his shoulder towards you and p.

when he looked back towards lando, he threw his hands up in defense. max rolled his eyes. “don’t know why you haven’t proposed to her yet. what’re you waiting for?”

lando bristled. he waited a moment to answer, wondering the same fucking thing. what was he waiting on? the perfect time, perhaps. summer break was rapidly approaching, and he certainly had a ring picked out.

the papaya clad driver pulled out his phone and scrolled through his photos, settled on the right one, and handed it to max. the other driver took it, zooming in, not that he needed to.

“when?”

lando shrugged. “summer break. greece, maybe.”

max cheered, slapping his hand over his mouth in shock. “you’re serious, mate?” lando nodded. max pulled him in for a hug, slapping him over the back. he couldn’t be happier for his best friend in this moment, starting to jump up and down. lando settled him down and slid his phone back into his pocket.

“keep it quiet. i want her to be surprised.”

max made a motion of a lock and key. “surprised about what?”

lando felt giddy.

you hadn’t been paying much attention to what lando nor max were chittering about. you’d been so hyper focused on coloring with p, that you were absent minded of the conversation behind you.

p had picked out a cartoon illustration of max and lando smiling towards the viewer. you’d thought it was an adorable choice, and it showed that p was more aware than what she led on to be. she, of course, started coloring in max. with his neutrally blonde hair, redbull cap, she was fast working.

but then she shoved the book towards you, politely anyways, and pointed at lando, who was yet to be colored in.

“my turn?” she nodded her head, handing you the orange marker.

you grinned, carefully coloring in the lines of the drawing before p took a deep breath. “are you and lando married?”

the question had you freeze momentarily, taken back by her question. “no, p, we’re not.”

you continued to color, whilst she continued to question. “why not?”

“because he hasn’t asked me.”

“why don’t you ask him?”

“i’m not sure that’s what he wants.”

p raised a brow. she looked towards lando and max, giggling together like school girls, then back to you and your focused coloring.

she handed you a brown marker for lando’s curls. “i think you should.”

now it was your turn to be inquisitive, “really, now?”

she nodded her head without hesitating. “then you’d be my aunt!” she giggled.

you colored in lando’s curls, carefully, diligently, thinking of how they felt beneath your fingertips. your breath hitched thinking about the thought of him proposing, wondering if he had ever even thought about it. you knew what your answer would be. it wouldn’t even take a beat of your heart to give him in answer, if he chose to ask. if he chose you.

with one final stripe of a black marker, your drawing of lando had been finished. you stood up, and so did p.

“are you going to have babies?”

“p!” you gasped, mouth dropping. “that’s none of your business, young lady.”

she laughed, twirling around. “what? that’s what mama says happens when you love someone.” confident, wasn’t she? “do you love lando?”

“of course i do, p.”

she gasped.

“is there a baby in there right now?!” she seemed concerned, becoming so bold as to touch your stomach. it was a little higher than where your womb sat beneath your skin, but close enough.

you shook your head. “no, honey. i am not having a baby right now.”

she looked disappointed. taking her hand back, she crossed them over her chest.

“penelope, what are you going on about?” kelly finally chimed in, rubbing p’s back with her hand.

“nothing.”

but it wasn’t nothing.

lando appeared behind you, a hand on your lower back. you leaned into him, recognizing his touch, and you got a brief wave of panic wondering if he heard your conversation with p.

“p,” lando said over your shoulder. she looked up. “do you still have your bracelet making kit?”

she nodded again, though you weren’t quite sure what he’d need it for. you guessed you’d find out eventually, because lando uttered, “it’s a secret, sorry baby.”

and he followed p to her small table, pulling out the kit from her backpack. she had taken lando’s hand to guide him, and you watched fondly.

too fondly, you thought, and knew you were in deep shit.

the morning of the dutch grand prix had you biting at the corners of your fingernails with anticipation. the summer break you had spent with lando was more than you could imagine— filled with delicious foods, sunny weather, morning swims, and of course, the sex. with more free time that lando had, he was utterly obsessed with you. he worshiped the ground you walked on, and it made you feel like more than the queen you deserved to be.

in the paddock you stood, shifting on your feet, anxiously fiddling with your purse once your fingernails sufficed. lily joined at your side, ethereal with her effortless beauty, and she nudged you with her elbow. “you look nervous,” she gave a short laugh.

you scoffed but joined in on her antics. “do i?” you certainly did. lily raised her brows to inquire further of your apparent distress.

relenting, you couldn’t resist her. there was no reason to— you were both practically attached at the hip. ever since oscar had been signed to mclaren, the two of you were inseparable. the famous mclaren WAGs.

your relationship with lando had been going on for two years now. sure, you’d had some rocky slopes to climb with the schedule of his career and the development of your own; that’s the thing about relationships though, isn’t it? that no matter what hill you’d have to climb, you’d find one another on the other side. the two of you wanted to make it work, so there was no obsolete universe in which you’d never find each other.

“he needs this, lils.” you practically sighed, finally gaining the courage to look her in the eye. she looked at you with the same softness that a mother would, or a best friend that you could count on.

“you know he’ll do well.” oh, don’t you know it. lando, whilst on vacation, never took a moment’s worth of rest. he wanted this just as much as you did for him, a second career win. it was all that you could think about the moment you stepped off the plane before him in zandvoort. it was going to happen. you had a feeling.

and a good one at that.

qualifying swept by in a flash. the saturday afternoon was a clean sweep for your boyfriend in the front row. you couldn’t be more proud of him. when he was finished with his interviews and taking his leave with his half removed fireguard, you launched at him.

flinging your arms around his neck, he gripped onto your waist and thighs like his life depended on it. it did. your nose found the sweat against the column of his neck, inhaling deeply. you melted into him.

lando felt the same. with his forehead burrowing into the hair on your scalp, he let out a deep breath that he’d been holding since he got out of the car.

“missed my sweet girl,” he breathed, the sweat and perspiration heating the hairs on your head. you sighed softly, relaxing into him as he held you tighter.

you broke away from him, setting yourself on the ground. you stood happily in front of him, rocking on your heels and playing with the hem of the black, sponser-ridden firesuit.

“‘m so fucking proud, lan. pole? pole on the first race back?” you were in shellshock, overjoyed disbelief.

he raised a hand to cup your face before he’d be whisked away. the bracelet on his wrist caught your eye, one that he must’ve put on once he stepped out of the car. the friendship letter bracelet read loudly to you, it letters all capitalized.

‘daddy’

you gripped his hand, observing the ornament. you raised a brow. is this the bracelet he had made with p?

lando let out a short laugh. “like it?”

you flushed, staring down at the small, dainty thing. it had you shifting on your feet, ideas and fantasies running wild through your pillage of a mind. “maybe.” you hummed, stroking the beads with your index finger.

“wore it for you.”

the statement had you standing up straight. “really now?” lando nodded.

and before he was whisked away, he whispered into your ear, “don’t get any ideas, baby. i know that look.”

you were rendered speechless, and by the time you managed to open your mouth, he had already left through the door.

the following day was race day. you were dressed flawlessly, curating perfection with your outfits to match the same prestige that lando had with his fans. also, you enjoyed feeling pretty. looking pretty, as lando would often say to you. he didn’t forget this morning either, arriving to the paddock with you in tow, hand wrapped tightly with yours.

as he took selfie after selfie, signed hat after hat, he didn’t forget to remind you, “you look beautiful,” that always brought a smile to your face, a blush fanning your cheeks.

when the two of you made it inside of mclaren’s hospitality, you were greeted by both lily and oscar. you gave her a warming hug, and she returned it with the same affirmation. when you separated, she danced on her tip-toes. lando and oscar side stepped toward the tea and coffee station, chatting amongst themselves.

“wow!” you were confused, raising a brow. “front row for him, hmm? told you, had nothing to worry about.”

you rolled your eyes, still holding anxieties for the race. you were always concerned going into a weekend. no matter how many grand prix’s you’ve attended, seen lando come out safe and sound, you still picked at the skin of your fingertips. anxious habits die hard.

lando’s managers came in alongside oscar’s beckoning both mclaren drivers to follow them to get ready for the race. lando found you instantly, his hands finding the handles on your hips, squeezing inward. you tensed at the action, wondering what had him on such edge.

you spun, hands running from his chest up to his neck, his cheeks. you cupped his face in your hands, sheepishly smiling.

“you’ll win this for me?”

he scoffed, “always.”

you smiled harder—if that was possible— and connected your lips with his. he returned your kiss, diving deep into your mouth. he held you close by your lower back, as if this was the last time that he’d ever kiss you. he sought to deepen your kiss by the clacking of your teeth, his tongue incessantly searching the inside of your mouth.

you separated yourself, still holding onto his cheeks. lando dipped his forehead against yours, seeking another kiss, but you pulled away. “go. they’re waiting for you.”

“don’t care.”

you flushed, allowing him one last peck before you patted his cheek. “seriously. go.”

he chuckled to himself, kissing the top of your head, uttering a soft “i love you,” before being swept away.

“i love you too.” you mouthed, returning your attention back to lily. she was in awe of how you and lando behaved, carving such a rugged, playful boy into a man of posture and mannerisms that were only reflected by your good nature.

“what?”

“nothing…” she looked away.

“lily.”

“you’ve got that man on a leash,” she broke into a fit of giggles. you looked back to where they were walking out. lando had been looking for you, then at you. he gave a wave, you returned it, then looked back at lily.

“i prefer the term ‘free-roaming.’”

the race was coming to an end with a single lap left. lando led the race with a twenty-two second lead, and your hands were clasped tightly together with your headset on. you listened carefully to his radio messages, sassy and revving, and had your eyes locked onto the screen in front of you. with lily by your side, the two of you were anxiously awaiting the end.

your face suddenly appeared on screen, displaying your glistening eyes, perfectly done makeup and hair. a chic smile grew on your cheeks. you turned towards the camera man and allotted a small wave. your name appeared under the screen, lando norris’ partner.

god…

was there anything more prideful than that?

surely there was, but it didn’t matter to you. you were there to support your boyfriend, lando, your lando, and it was more than enough to see that you were recognized as that.

the checkered flag appeared and lando was on the headline for crossing. you had to clutch your heart, hoping to grip it from the inside out to slow its beating, and it didn’t cease when his mcl38 zipped past the flag.

there was an eruption of cheers throughout the garage and you were swarmed with love by the fellow mechanics and lily, too, who was happy for you to witness such a grand victory. a more than well earned victory.

a second one in the books for him. you couldn’t have been happier.

the podium gathering didn’t take long, and you managed to be at the front of the barricade, shoved forward by the team. you stood there, graceful and beautiful as he always saw you, and you were the loudest to clap and cheer as he walked out from the cool down room.

“your winner, lando norris…!” and you couldn’t help the tears that fell down your cheeks, the camera picking up your emotional feedback on the big screen. his eyes caught to it from the bannister, stepping up onto the tallest podium, and found you right at the front. his heart melted, dripped a red hot flame that burned for you. to see you there for him, emotional above all, solidified his feelings. what he wanted in his future.

you. you above anything else. you above racing, his career, his everything. he had nothing if you weren’t by his side.

he took off his pirelli hat and let the national anthem play. the camera panned away from you then to zak brown. you swayed gently to the anthem, lost in your own world of loving him. you saw him through clear glasses, though he was always your rose. there was nothing more that you wanted in the future than to be with him. you and lando.

after his attributed champagne pop, the crowd dissipated from the pit lane and you engaged in conversations with different women, friends, and coworkers of mclaren. you were jovial with your presence, engaged as much as you could be, though your thoughts kept tracing back to him. lando, lando, lando.

you ended your evening in conversations with the ferrari women— alexandra, rebecca, and one of charles’ friends, marta. you’re a recent acquaintance, meeting her only just a few moments ago. she was noticeably pregnant, and you wondered if that was just the recurring theme of the day.

“how far along are you?” rebecca chimed in.

“about twenty weeks, i think.” she smiled, holding her bump and leaning back into one of her heels to get a more comfortable angle.

“half way there! are you excited?” you asked her, sipping your sparkling water.

“of course,” she grimaced, though there was joy behind her eyes. “it can be hard, but it’s worth it. always worth it to see my husband with my daughter, and now it’ll be brand new with this babe.”

you gave her a heart-warming smile.

“they kick every so often—” she grimaced again, reeling her face into a tight knot. “like right now. do you want to feel?” she was looking at you. it took you a second to understand that she was referring to you, but you jumped at the opportunity.

“are you sure…?”

marta nodded. “put your hand here,” she placed your hand on her right side. you waited a moment before there was a small lurch beneath your palm. you looked up at her in pure disbelief, marveled by such a feeling. you wondered what it’d feel like to feel your own baby kick.

“so…” alexandra leered mischievously, “do you plan on having children? with lando?”

is everyone asking that today?

you stood up straight, embarrassed by the question, and brushed a piece of your hair behind your ear. “for sure. there’s no one else i want. whenever the time is right.”

“he’d be such a good dad.” alexandra added, and you couldn’t agree more.

“you should’ve seen him earlier with penelope—” the girls were reeling at your story. “making bracelets with her. almost tripped over my own dress,” you covered your mouth to laugh, attempting to keep your voice down.

“someone has baby fever.” marta commented.

“ugh,” rebecca groaned. “you two are picturesque. alex and i were just talking about it.”

“oh?” you wished to know more by their insinuation. it wasn’t often that you listened to anything about you or lando’s relationship. half of the time it was negative comments from fans across social media, and you didn’t want the other half to get to your head. you knew you were lucky as is, the least you could do was stay humble.

“ohhhh most definitely.” alexandra nodded. “you’ve been together for what— ever? we’re waiting for an engagement post.”

you were floored. it has been a good amount of time. “so am i,” it came as a laugh. you wondered if lando thought about it. if the thought ever crossed his mind— the possibility of you becoming his wife.

it did.

he was watching you. he’d been done with his interviews for a good ten minutes now, but he was gripped by the scene unfolding before him. he had distracted himself by glancing at his phone, pretending to be scrolling through notifications. but he was staring. hard.

your hand was so tender-loving as it grazed marta’s baby bump. you looked up at her with a graceful smile, asking her important questions about her pregnancy. why were you so interested?

fuck, he hoped the answer he wanted was what you were thinking.

you, pregnant in your floral dresses, pleated gowns, traipsing around the halls of your joint home. barefoot, glowing, effervescent. he could see it now. the vision coming to life, coming to fruition from just a mere fantasy. he felt his dick twitch in his pants, his groin running hot.

he overheard the conversation, too.

“do you plan on having children? with lando?”

for sure. there’s no one else i’d want.

fuuuuck. lando had to turn around, attempting to calm himself down. his entire body was aflame, an eternal gloss of bliss for wanting you. needing you. he needed to feel you. your touch. your skin beneath him, the way you curl effortlessly against the shape of his body.

yeah, he’s fucked.

after a few calming deep breaths, he was at least presentable. with his calmed down cock, he immediately made a beeline in your direction. he wanted—no, needed to get his hands around you as soon as possible. it was a world-ending feeling that suffocated him, gripped him by the throat.

you heard him approach before you saw him. lando’s hands were warm around your hips as he pulled you close. you felt the outline of his cock in his pants as he jut his hips forward. you turned your head over your shoulder, glancing up at him.

his nose found a home in the curve of your neck. you giggled when you felt his stubble tickle your skin, a hand coming instinctively to hold the side of his face tight against your skin. he breathed soundly against you, finding eternal peace of mind plastered against your body.

“it was nice seeing you alex, rebecca.” you began to bid your farewells. “marta, it was a pleasure to meet you.” marta leaned in for a hug, which pulled you away from the warmth of lando’s body. you felt like a snail ripped from its shell— hollow, cold.

“the same for you,” pregnancy looked good on her. though, you can’t recall the last time you’ve seen her without a baby blooming inside her. “if you ever need advice…alex has my number.”

you blushed, feeling lando’s hand around your lower belly tense. “thank you. i’ll be in touch.” you glance towards rebecca and alexandra, following lando’s pace back to the car.

lando’s eyes were hot as they drilled holes into the side of your head. you could feel it, though you weren’t even looking at him. “i can feel your urge to talk, lan.”

he laughed, holding your hand tight in his. “no. no, it’s nothing.”

you stopped dead in your tracks, pulling your hand from his, crossing your arms over your chest.

“okay, okay,” he apologized, taking your hand back into his own, bringing it to his lips to kiss. his lips were warm and wet against your skin. your breath hitched.

“well, go on, then.”

“this is the congratulations i get? damn, baby, you’re rugged.”

you shoved his face away, beginning to walk back to the car once more. “you know i’m proud. don’t be silly, now.”

“i know, i know,” there was a brief silence. “you can show me in other ways.”

“lando!” you gasped, and he broke into a fit of laughter. “dirty bastard.” you mumbled.

“what was that, baby?”

“nothing. nothing. just like what you wanted to tell me, i guess.” two can play at this game. you heard him scoff, but ultimately relent.

“alright, alright. i just…” he became shy with the tone of his voice. you could recognize it instantly. “heard your conversation with the girls, is all.”

you attempted your best effort to still your facial expressions from annoyance, shock, embarrassment, and all of the fucking above.

“you heard…all of it?”

“the gist.”

you tried to cover your face to shield yourself from the world. god, that was your fucking nightmare. you hadn’t ever even touched upon a subject like that with him before. and now he had heard it from you talking to your girlfriends? oh, you just felt like the worst girlfriend in the world right now.

“fuck. i didn’t mean to—”

“no, baby,” he opened the car door for you to slip into the passenger seat. you stepped in, gripping his forearm to sit down.

when he climbed in himself and turned over the engine, you shifted to face him. before you could even open your mouth to speak, he cut you off.

“i want kids, too, you know. with you.”

“oh.” a weight lifted from your shoulders in that moment, and then you felt utterly stupid for thinking that he would’ve reacted badly. this is your lando you’re talking to. a man you can share anything with. “you do?”

he looked flabbergasted. “you’re joking, right?”

you shot your hands up in defense. “i don’t know! children aren’t exactly…temporary. i just— i didn’t know if you thought of me—”

“you’re permanent, love.” his hand wrapped around your thigh as he pulled out of the driver’s lot, whipping past the fans that were keen on snapping a picture of him.

though you’ve known that, deep down, it still hit you like the first time he told you that he loved you. a jaw-dropping epiphany that had been right in front of you the whole time. you’d been short-sighted, enjoying every moment that you had with him, and had become unknowing about the future you’ve been perpetuating with him.

you covered his hand with your own, playing with the bracelets around his wrist. the charm bracelet ‘daddy’ dangled between your fingers, rolling the beads over and over again.

“you’d make a good daddy, wouldn’t you?” you said the words under your breath, but even he could hear them like you’d shouted them in his face. he tightened his grip around your thigh.

“don’t say things like that,” he shook his head, eyes locked on the road ahead.

the air became heavy between you two. when wasn’t it? not only did passion run through your veins, but heinous desire breathed life to your souls.

“why?” you stroked the top of his hand with your nails. “you heard what i said to the girls.” his head lolled against the back rest. “what’s different now?”

you felt the car accelerate. it vibrated the cushion you were nestled atop of, sending shockwaves through your cunt.

“driving me fucking nuts, darling.”

you knew you were. it was the secret to your relationship— the two of you understanding what made you tick. seethe with lust until there was no other option for you to climb him like a tree.

it didn’t take long before he reached the hotel, pulling up to the front. you were getting your things to get up, but he was lost on his phone, pretending to be busy. “coming?” you asked.

“pfft—” you could see him roll his eyes through the rearview mirror. “i wish. give me a second.” you couldn’t help but huff to yourself under your breath, stepping out of the car with your heels clinking to the ground.

with your purse over your shoulder you stepped up onto the curb, but was distracted by a small voice echoing over your shoulder.

down the sidewalk was a mother and a stroller. you smirked lowly, taking only the few steps it’d take to reach the mother and child.

“oh my gosh,” you squealed. the mother was taken back, but by your demeanor and eyes on her baby, she returned a smile. by her pink bonnet and bunny swath, you knew she was the cutest thing you’d ever laid eyes on. “she is just the cutest thing!”

“thank you,” the woman said.

“she looks just like her mama,” you heard lando’s car door open, most definitely within earshot. “don’t you, sweet thing? yes you do!” you cooed at the baby, who erupted in a fit of louder giggles and mumbles.

the mother was flushed, but happy. “you’re too kind. you’re good with children? do you have any of your own?”

jackpot..!!

you clutched your purse as you stood up straight. you played into your theatrics, “oh gosh, i wish! my husband and i have been trying for ages, but he’s just so busy with work…”

the woman tsked with disappointment for you. “you’d make a beautiful mother,”

“you think so?”

she nodded her affirmation.

“that’s so sweet of you.” you were really milking this scene, especially that you knew lando was listening.

“is that your husband there?” she pointed to over your shoulder. and there he was, your husband, watching the two of you from behind the ajar car door.

“mmm, yes, it is.” you offered a cordial wave to him. he stuck two fingers up for a lazy wave, waiting for you to return to him. “i should go. it was a pleasure, ma’am. your baby is adorable.”

she nodded a thanks, and you took your sweet time walking back to the car. you could hear lando tapping the windshield incessantly. before his head dipped down back into the car he called, “get back in.”

you…admit, you were confused. brows furrowed, you opened the passenger side door and bent down, “why—?”

“get in the car,” your name was a rumble in his chest. you still didn’t know what he was doing nor going, and your stubborn self wouldn’t settle for a verbal answer.

you took too long for him. gripping your arm, he pulled you into the passenger seat, and you landed on your ass with a ‘thump’.

he fired up the engine again and pulled out of the traffic circle of the hotel. he radiated with heat— you could feel it from where you sat. “where are we going?”

he didn’t answer you.

you crossed your arms and legs, looking out the window. the area was unknown to you, but lando always seemed like he knew where he was going.

it took only a minute for him to pull into an empty level of a parking garage, dimly lit with only one overhead light at the entrance of the ramp. he put the car in park.

“what are we—”

you couldn’t finish your sentence until you were on his lap, hands gripping your waist so tightly that you had to gasp for air.

“husband?”

oh…!

well, this was a change you welcomed with open arms.

he lowered the seat back until you were straddled atop of him, fingers aimlessly toiling with the zipper of his jeans.

“don’t know what you’re—”

he snapped upward, gripping your chin between his forefinger and thumb. “baby,” he breathed, and you shivered. “what do you want?”

your hips naturally moved back and forth against his own, dress hiked well above your stomach. his hand snaked between your legs, feeling the wet patch in your underwear. he hummed when you didn’t reply, flicking his finger upward to graze your clit.

you mewled.

“what was that?”

your hand twisted around the hem of his shirt. you were already breathless, clenching around nothing except the sound of his words.

“tell me,” he muttered, staring up at your disheveled state. he made quick work of sliding your panties to the side, massaging the folds of your cunt between his fingers. you continued your writhing against him.

“want you,” was what you managed to breathe out, hips rutting against his palm. he tsked, but allowed you this moment. a moment for him to bask in the way that you move your hips, writhe against his clothed cock that was egregiously hardening by the second and each amount of pressure you applied.

he slid his fingers in and out of you with ultra maneuvering, in and out, all around. he was a mastermind when it came to feeling you up, exploring you both on the outside, and the in. you were in heaven, ultimately, when he curled his fingers so deeply upon thrusting them. your cunt tightened so viciously around him that he groaned, his head falling back and his hardened cock thrusting upward. to no avail, his dick was strained against the cloth of his pants.

“fuck,” he cussed, curling his fingers over and over again. your body began to shiver, and only began to fall from grace when his thumb traced against your clit. stimulation grew hotter and hotter, until you let out a piercing moan from the depths of your throat. he angled his fingers differently, making you squirm.

“lando!” you breathed, feeling your climax creeping up on you faster than you could even blink. your core tightened, a coil of veracious flames churning around each other manifesting a slew of energy that released sparks from your nerves. your folds were inflamed, puffy, beating hot that you couldn’t think straight. lando was touching you with his other hand anywhere that he could reach. he palmed your breasts through your dress, twisted a nipple to earn a delicious squeal.

“come on, sweet thing,” he encouraged you with that stupid lopsided smile of his, you were looking down on him, sweat beading at his forehead, pupils blown dark and wide. his hand that was groping your breast moved upward, threading around the column of your throat. “show daddy what you’re made of.”

his hand tightened, and you felt the coil snap. he continued to pump his fingers in and out, maneuvering so perfectly, hitting that exact spot with precision.

he knew you came when your eyes rolled back into your head, legs quivering around his waist. god, you’re a sexy thing.

his hand loosened from around your neck, dropping to your chest, fiddling with the van cleef necklace he had gifted you. it reeked of possession, marking you as his with the “l.n.” initials engraved on the back of the golden surface.

the moment of bliss passed before he was pulling the zipped down from your dress and throwing it from over your head. your panties were next, though the fabric was thin as is. there you were, bare and glistening, before your so-called ‘husband’ as you had worded it. he wouldn’t forget it, a spark igniting within him that was lit by the phrase leaving your tongue. he didn’t think that it would affect him so much—

but it did.

he made quick work of his own pants, shoving them down to his knees beneath you, breathless and needy.

you gripped the hem of his shirt. he lifted his arms to hasten the process, and the shirt went to the back seat. with his skin exposed, you couldn’t help but run your hands along his tan, toned chest. it made you dripping wet, though he was barely touching you now.

with your skin atop of his, carnage was sure to ensue. he took a drag of his fingers against your wet cunt and brought it to his lips. he sucked on them, releasing with a ‘pop.’ your mouth hung open in anticipation for what he was going to do next. he always kept you on your toes.

but this…this is not what you expected.

he took a ring from his index finger, plated in silver, and slid it onto your ring finger on your left hand. the wedding finger.

it stuck to your sweaty palm, sure enough to not slip off.

“let’s make it official then, pretty girl.”

you sat upon him astonished, looking down at the adornment that he had given to you. it dazzled on your finger.

“if you’re my wife, what does that make me?”

the words trembled from your lips, thighs tightening around his own. you could feel his dick sprung to life against your backside. “my husband.”

“good, baby, you learn fast.”

you gulped, finally taking a look at him from his propped upright position. he was downright smitten with you, guzzling everything about you inside of him. you were his, so much fucking so, that he was going to ruin you. and he didn’t even feel bad for wanting it.

“my husband…” you repeated, lowering your face down to meet his own. he smelled so good—a mix of sweat and his cologne.

his hand tangled into your hair, creating a makeshift ponytail to meet your eye level.

“makes me fucking crazy when y’say it…”

you knew that was the truth. you’d known the minute you sat down in the car. his demeanor had changed, shifted to something darker that you didn’t quite understand. it was insane enough as is that you’d discovered so many things about him within a short period of time.

“husband, daddy…what’s the difference?” you cooed, kissing up and down his neck. he groaned, landing a smack on your ass that had you giggling.

“‘ll just make you a mommy if you keep throwin’ that word ‘round.”

you grinned ear to ear. against his cheek, you took a deep breath in, before letting go.

“daddy.”

if you’ve ever made a good decision in your life, this has to be the best. a switch flipped. gears started to turn in his head. the spark plug burst into flames.

you were his undoer,

the key to his shackled restraint,

the sun to his universe.

it was always you. you’d been right in front of him for the past two years. two years to get to this point. two years for the woman he loved most in this world to be sucking his neck whispering ‘daddy’ into his ear.

lando sat upright in the seat. with a hand at the back of your head, he forced eye contact with you. this was different. this look. you could feel it in your heart, your folds, as they began to beat synchronously. life with him was euphoria, and sex had been the serendipitous release for both of you.

but seeking the future together?

heaven incarnate.

despite being locked inside such a tight space, lando managed to swap your position with a suave move. you were on your back, shocked by his carnal rampage, as he hooked your legs upward. your toes scathed the ceiling of the car, pressed deep into the metal chassis.

“kiss me,” you demanded with the breath that you could take. he didn’t waste a second, leaning down to your lips and capturing you with the most breathtaking press that he could muster. his tongue and your own fought for dominance over one another; you lost, quickly, unable to match his revered pace.

he wanted to eat you from top to bottom. devour your insides, carry you with him every day of his life. you would be his, one way or another, and he didn’t care how it was.

lucky enough, you were more than willing to be his bride, his lover, his person.

because he was yours.

then he was inside of you. braving the treachery of your tight walls, he hissed when the tip of his cock slipped through your folds. you’d been dripping on the leather seat.

“fuck, baby…” his head fell to the crevice of your neck and collarbone.

“oh my goddd…” the moan you both let out was terribly lewd, grotesque, even, with how he didn’t start a pace. you both savored this sweet moment of lust, passion, and a figurative toast to a lifelong commitment to fucking one another.

with each thrust he took, he aimed to make a statement. deeper and deeper he penetrated you, his cock crafted of divine measure with how he quartered your g-spot.

you could never stay still beneath him. it had him on edge the way you squirmed. dare say it was one of the most favorite things about you, though the list would be never-ending. you shiver from pleasure, leaning into him as your cunt squelches beneath you.

echoes of moans bounce off the interior of the car, whilst a smile of greed and possession conceives on his own cheeks. the angle he has you at is deeper than any that you’ve had before— it left no room for noncommittal nature, no room for you to complain about wanting him closer, more, more, more.

“y’feel me here?” his hand rest on your lower belly, your womb, as he applied pressure. you do feel him there. the indent of his cock is poignant, bulging out from the skin.

“mhm…!” you whine, trying to keep your mouth shut from the onslaught of moans pouring out.

his attention turned to your tits as he swallowed a nipple whole with his tongue, sucking feverishly at the sensitive bud. it had you weak, dribbling to puddy.

he could only think about how you’d look pregnant. swollen tits, round belly, glowing with his child.

“this what you wanted?” he grunted, his pace quickening. you were too dumb to speak, a droplet of drool leaking from your mouth. “hm? fuck you—fuck, fill you up?”

your back arched at the sentence, not knowing that his words could have such an arousing effect on you. this arousal was different. the way you clench around him was different. your actions spoke a lot louder than your words.

“yeah? i can feel you, darling.” sounds of skin slapping and your hoarse voice could only be heard. he fucked you so good, treated you even better. fuck it, you’d rather be pregnant than anything else.

“please, please…” you didn’t know what you were pleading for, in truth— he was already fucking you like he’d been in a rut.

“yeah? that what you want? want a baby?”

your head nodded furiously up and down, tears of pleasure streaming down your cheeks. lando bent down to kiss them away, followed by a capturing of your lips. he swallowed your breaths, your moans. he trailed kisses down the column of your throat; your collarbones, breasts, nipples, nothing went untouched by his mouth.

“god…these…” he muttered against your tits, voice sending shockwaves through your body. “imagine how big they’d be.” he managed to chuckle to himself. “swollen and beautiful,” he kissed the top of your abdomen.

“lando…”

his head shot up from his daze.

“the time is right. please, please—” your words seemed to hit him like a truck. the foreplay had turned reality, and he was more than ready to lurch into fate.

“what, pretty girl?”

your face flushed, biting your lip. “give me a baby, need it—lan, need it so bad.” your hand found the back of his neck, tugging on the strands of his hair.

he tsked, his pace evening out to a level throttle. your lips formed a sweet pout, and he stroked your chin with his index finger. “give you?” he mocked. “oh, don’t think that’s how we ask, do we?”

“lan…please, please, can i have your baby? need it so bad lando, need it…” you swallowed your breath. “daddy…wanna make you a daddy…please.”

it was more than enough for him. “atta girl.” he grunted, deepening his lackluster thrusts into thrilling rides on his cock. “y’learn fast…kids ‘r gonna be so smart.”

“yes, yes! so good, lan.” you heaved, the heat in your cunt finding a boiling point, and he felt it by how tight you became around him.

“go on, baby, take it. be a good girl and take it all.” you’d do anything to hear your lando call you a good girl. it had been more than enough to send you over the edge into a spiraling orgasm that had slick seeping around his cock. your vision whitened, and you could only see the shadow of your ‘husband’ through the light.

with sloppy thrusts, lando came with ease. he didn’t pull out urgently, letting his cum soak inside of you. he peppered kisses along your ankles, your calves, and let them fall to the seat.

out of breath, your chests rose and fell at a rapid pace. lando’s forehead connected with your own, and through the haze of post-sex, he smiled at you.

you smiled back. the two of you broke into a laugh.

“fuckin’ knew that was gonna happen today.” he commented lazily into your chest. a hand of yours threaded through his brown curls.

“your mastermind plan to babytrap me.”

he raised a brow. “did you plan on leaving?”

you gave him a knowing look. “not in the slightest.”

he became embarrassed and sheepish as he hid his face into your ribs. “no chance of it, now.”

you chuckled, flexing your fingers to see the ring still there. “i want a real proposal, by the way.”

his head shot up. “what? this wasn’t good enough?”

you palmed his face with one hand, and tugged the back of his curled head with the other. “bastard.”

it only took you two ten minutes to get your clothes back on from such a leisurely excursion from the empty parking garage. covered in his spit, sweat, and cum, you didn’t feel….dirty.

when he finally pulled up to the valet and opened the door for you, you stepped out as graciously as possible. though your hair was a tangled mess— you tried your best. lucky enough it was late enough to where minimal paparazzi were gathered. thank god.

you shifted on your feet, shimmying the dress down, but lando came to your rescue. he pulled the dress down where it was crumpled at the back, caught between the hem of your soaked underwear.

“that was a rental, wasn’t it?” you pointed out, looking over your shoulder.

“they should auction it.”

you spun around and laughed in his face, gagged by the ego he has. “you have a big head.”

“need all that room for you.”

“cheesy.”

lando’s eyes lit up— though exhausted from the day and your antics, the sun still rose for him— “almost forgot—” he reached into his pocket whilst you waited patiently.

he pulled out a bracelet.

a friendship bracelet.

“thought it suited you.” he put it around your wrist, and you analyzed it clearly. in white, capitalized letters it read:

“MOMMY”

“you really had this thing planned.” you were impressed.

he shifted on his heels, throwing his hands up as if saying ‘what can i say?’ “p thinks you’re pregnant now.”

you gasped. “lando!”

“i mean…hopefully.” he winked as you fiddled with the jewelry, still not bothering to take off the ring from your finger.

“well…” you brought a finger to your lips, thinking, “we have to be certain, don’t we?”

lando was catching your drift as you walked backwards towards the entrance of the hotel, luring him in with your charisma. “perhaps…”

“so…we need to try again.” he wasn’t going to argue with that. “and again.” or that. “and again, for good measure.”

“you’re gonna kill me, baby.” he whined, chasing you up the steps. you squealed, running forward. inside the elevator you two went, clicking the floor for your room.

after further inspection, lando’s brows furrowed after he glanced over you. “what?”

he covered his mouth to shield his devious smile.

“what, lando?”

he coughed to hide his amusement, but it was a very bad act. “you’re…”

“what?”

“you’re dripping.”

you looked down at your thighs and saw the glistening reflection of his cum seeping out of you. fuck. maybe the first time was the charm, but you hoped it wasn’t.

you really hoped it wasn’t.

tags ; @landoslutmeout@basicallyric@mybluesoul1@toriiez@customsbyjcg-blog@sofs16@strengthandstay@mybluesoul1@f1fantasys@cmleitora @idgasb @amalialeclerc @laneyspaulding19 @staurdvst @oreosareara @sideboobrry11 @mortallyblueninja @fionamiller123 @2pagenumb @marvelfangirl04 @brune77e @allabouthappiness @tellybearryyyy @ringdingdingdingx @tillyt04 @danywonderland @rosebud224 @simpfortoomanymen @nataliambc @forcesensitivesoulmate @sweate-r-weathe-r @norlestappen @madszoca @milkandcookhot @fionamiller123 @16f1lc @jwiltsz @plotpal @inevesgf @theonottsbxtch

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gyuswhore · 1 year ago

Text

Hits Different (...'cause it's you) (1)

«« I trace the evidence, make it make some sense Why the wound is still bleedin' »»

PAIRING: kim mingyu x reader

SYNOPSIS: Kim Mingyu was the first friend your brother had brought home for dinner. Fast forward a couple years, his toothy smile and pierced ears would wedge their way into a permanent place in your heart. Nail to a coffin, never to escape.

or;

in which you get rejected by the only boy you've ever loved; a rejection you can't quite shake off.

GENRES: based off of 'Hits Different' by Taylor Swift, brother's best friend!au, brother!seokmin, fluff, angst, smut (in part 2) [MINORS DNI], friends(?) to lovers, university!au.

PLAYLIST: right here!

WORD COUNT (full fic): 40k (im actually embarrassed)

Part 1: 20.2k | Part 2: 20k

masterlist

WARNINGS : slowburn, angst, fluff, mingyus a bit of an airhead and an ass, reader has a hard time managing her feelings, lots of frustrated tears, one sided pining, user toruro x minghao make an appearance, swearing, there's another woman (gasp,,,,,but shes cool so), Nayeon is a darling, Seungcheol is kinda annoying here but we love him, smut tags in part 2

(Comments from @toruro): "oh shizzle", "yeah bitch", (on jihyo) "mother", "ME X HAO FIRE EMOJI", "men (derogatory)"

[A/N]: Tumblr is annoying and won't let me post the entire 40k in one go so i have to break it up (part 2 is out tomorrow!!!) i hope you guys enjoy this, thank you for all the love on the teaser, i hope this is able to live up to the hype, thank you so much for being patient with me <33 (ty @toruro for encouraging me when i felt shit ab this gkjnrgvkjrng and beta-ing ofc)

As someone who could vomit at the mere thought of throw-up, you tried not to stare into the toilet bowl as you emptied your guts in this questionable club bathroom.

It was proving to be easier than you’d anticipated, naturally, when your eyes were blurred with bubbling tears. Were they because of your wretching or the feelings that churned in your heart? You can’t be entirely sure, nor can you find yourself having the mental strength to figure out. There’s a banging on the door behind you, one that sends your already aching head into a hurling spin.

“Open the door, I have water for you, it’ll help!” You hear Mika blare from the other side, concern lacing her voice.

You try to blink the tears away but they cascade down your cheek anyway, rubbing at them furiously before preparing to haul yourself off the disgusting bathroom floor. Taking a deep breath was a horrible idea, you realize when an atrocious mixture of scents hit your nostrils, cringing visibly.

Washing your hands at the sink took you another five minutes, scrubbing furiously at your palms and nails with the dollar store soap the club graciously placed in a fancy dispenser, pumping more than a normal amount to rid yourself of the paranoia of tainted hands.

Unfortunately for you, your palms were tainted with entities beyond mere soap and water’s powers.

It was evident with the way you exited the bathroom feeling perhaps worse than you went in. Mika was nowhere to be seen in the hall, moving along to the private room where the rest of the group was to find her springing up as you enter.

“You weren’t answering, so I left. Here, water, I told you to be careful with what you drink; you haven’t had a bite to eat either.” She reprimands.

“Sorry,” you smile sheepishly, not having a reasonable excuse to give her.

Joshua peeks over her shoulder, “You feeling any better?”

The water is slow to go down as you sputter before replying in a hoarse voice, “Yeah. Way.”

To be fair, the water did help. But it was you who was the problem, blaming the alcohol for the behaviour all your friends knew perfectly well where it was stemming from. Not a word was said though, for your sake or their own. You wrap up quickly after that, Joshua insisting to drop you off home himself, quoting how Seokmin would have his head if he left you in the hands of a taxi driver in this state — age gap be damned. You can only thank him as he pulls up to your destination, hoping you’ll remember this in the morning to return the favour in the future.

“Before you go, can we talk for a second?” he piques, halting you as you remove your seatbelt.

“Sure, yeah. What is it?”

“I’m not gonna ask if you’re doing alright, not when you’re gonna give me the same answer as always. But…please take care of yourself. You’ve been drinking quite a bit lately, and it can’t be helping you at all”

You listen to him silently, not a thought in your brain. But you nod anyway.

“Thanks for looking out, Shua. I’m…I’m probably not gonna be going out for a while, you’re right,” you reply, quietly, a small smile on your face that you can only hope is reassuring.

“I don’t mean lock yourself up, either. You don’t give yourself a break and then try to make up for it by drinking your self faint every week, that’s never gonna help you. You know that.” He speaks in a soft, soothing voice, a hand coming up to pat your hair before landing on your clasped hands on your lap. “You know what, I’ll pick you up tomorrow night, we can go the fair just me, you and Seok-”

“I have class tomorrow.”

“Like showing up hungover is gonna help you retain any information. Just skip.”

You sigh a deep exhale, deciding to simply be upfront. “I kinda just wanna stay home for a while, going out’s kinda making it worse. I think rotting in front of my laptop’s what I really need right now”

Throwing in a tinkle of a laugh, you hope you’ve sold yourself.

“Alright,” he sounds slightly unconvinced but doesn’t push you further, “I’ll drop in to bother you tomorrow though, don’t try stoping me”

“Okay,” you say, smiling a little wider. “I’m gonna go now, goodnight.”

“Wait!” he stops you once again, right before your about to shut the door. “Have you talked to Mingyu at all?”

“There’s nothing to talk about, Shua. Night”

With that you’ve slammed the door of his car shut, missing the ghost of a “goodnight” that leaves Joshua’s lips as he watches you walk inside the building.

“And stop staying out so late at night! What were you supposed to do if Joshua wasn’t there?” Seokmin rants as he walks back and forth grabbing you water and pills as you finish your forced breakfast.

“Take a taxi?” you suggest sarcastically.

“What? And get me called to the station to identify your body parts when some dude decides he wants to play cannibalistic butcher?” he screeches, and it has you wincing and grabbing onto your head at his volume. You dramatize it a little, hoping he’d shut it with his nagging if you gained some extra sympathy. He doesn’t stop talking, but he does tone it down.

“Whatever, I’m not going out anymore.” You push your plate and bowl away as you hop off the stool and stalk off to your room, making as much noise as possible in the process.

Your brother calls after you, but you don’t stop. Your head was pounding,

“Are you gonna take your meds? HELLO? Or do you enjoy the feeling of having your head split open?” he slams open the door of your room mid-sentence, going on at your blanket-clad figure on the bed.

“I’m going back to sleep.”

“No, you’re taking your fucking meds.” A cup of water is thrust into your hands as you pick up the pills from Seokmin’s open palms, swallowing before he decides to shove it down your throat himself.

He waits on the edge of the bed, checking to make sure you actually swallowed the pill instead of hiding it under your tongue like you’ve done since you were kids.

“I’m not stopping you from going out if that’s what you think I mean,” he starts, a lot softer this time, and you’re taken back to your conversation with Joshua last night. “You’ve been going out and coming home wasted a lot more than normal lately. I don’t know if it’s because your college agendas are finally catching up to you or what.”

“I’m just…My friends are always out and I wanna be with them, it’s normal,” you grumble, disappearing deeper into your sheets.

“You’d tell me if something was bothering you, right?”

‘Yeah, yeah, now shoo. Your voice is making my head hurt worse, I doubt Advils are immune to your yapping.”

“Fine, fuck you too” he mumbles, leaving the room only to pop back in a second later. “Mom called last night, told her you were at a study group. Might wanna call her back before she catches a flight herself.”

You wave two fingers up in a salute from your flat position on the bed, hearing him close the door. You don’t sit up until you hear the TV blare from the living room, knowing he had parked himself on the couch and has his attention diverted.

The headache wasn’t actually that bad, you just really wanted to be left alone, and your brother had a habit to do the opposite when asked, so it had to be done.

What on Earth were you supposed to tell him, anyway? That his best friend in the whole world rejected his sister on the spot when she confessed her decades long feelings? That she was ruining her liver and kidneys every weekend over a rejection? By his best friend in the whole world?

Yeah, that’s an easy conversation.

Snuggling into the covers you try not to think back to the abomination that was your birthday party just a few weeks ago, but your thoughts yank you there anyway, as if to remind you of every wretched detail of the encounter like it was wasn’t already burned into your frontal lobe like a brand.

You were on a high; too happy, too excited. It’s not like you were expecting anything for your first birthday at uni anyway, you were too old for pink blowout parties and too young for the madness of college level clubbing. You were excited for takeout with your brother, to sit in front of the TV for the rest of the night, maybe even stick a candle in one of your burgers and call it your cake. Plans were changed when you walked into your home, ready to wind down for the night and celebrate in your own way.

It was a full house, food and drinks everywhere, complete with a loud “SURPRISE” as you walk through the door. You remember hugging both your brother and Mingyu when they tell you they did all of this for you, an overwhelming feeling overcoming you as you grip them tight, hoping it’ll transfer all the gratitude you couldn’t express.

You’re breathless as the night progresses, trying hard to focus on the conversations at hand, trying to be a good host. Failing miserably, you can’t force your gaze from wandering every few minutes, searching for Mingyu in the crowd, watching him move his mouth as he talked, throw his hair back as he laughed, smile that beautiful, beautiful smile of his, perfect teeth on display.

It had been bliss these past few weeks, the lingering smiles he would give you, the flirtatious attempts never gone unnoticed. The smoothest of words slipping right off his tongue as he gave you eyes that twinkled and sparkled and blew air directly into the embers in your heart. You would still yourself as they would happen, like the mirage would crack and shatter if you even dared to breathe; it felt unreal. After all these years, you realised soon, Kim Mingyu may have began to like you.

You’d be lying if you said you were completely sober when it happened, drinks were passed around and as the birthday girl you didn’t seem to have a choice to back down, already a little hot and wide eyed barely halfway through the night.

And when Mingyu doesn’t interact with you all night, you go to him as the numbers in the house dwindled, cornering him as he collected bottles in the kitchen.

“Hey!”, he sounds enthusiastic, “You having fun yet?”

“Yeah, thanks again for doing this.” your remember fidgeting with your fingers and nails, digging them into each other as you let yourself spew.

“Are you gonna say thank you at every chance for the next six months? It's your first birthday away from home. Besides it was Seok’s idea, I just helped out.” He had said, beaming.

“Mingyu, can I talk to you about something…?”

You sigh loudly as you replay the memory, face pushed into the covers as you bite back a scream at the blood rushing to your head.

Stupid. Idiot. Absolutely brainless.

“Oh.” He had breathed out when you had spilled your entire heart out to him standing in that kitchen, visibly taken aback at your abruptness. “I…I’m sorry I’m not quite sure what to say.”

You still remember that sickening feeling, that big ball of junk and emotions that sank lower and lower in your abdomen, settling a deep hurt in your chest that made it difficult to breathe.

Laying in your bedroom, weeks after the fact, you can still feel your breathing go slightly erratic at the memory, hot tears springing your eyes, burning before you wipe them away. You were aware how baffling it was, how you were letting it affect you to this degree, but you justified it with the years you had remained quiet, yearning on the sidelines.

You deserved to wallow in this pit.

At least that’s what you thought. But after last night you wonder if you had stopped indulging in the sorrow and let it ruin you instead. A sigh escapes you at the thought of ending yet another night in a dirty bathroom, makeup smeared and guts removed, misery becoming the only thing you were allowed to feel in the aftermath.

You reach for your phone on the bedside table, flicking through your unread messages, barely registering a word as you leave them opened and unanswered. There wasn’t an ounce of willpower in you even after a full night’s sleep, turning your phone off before shoving it in your bedside drawer, forgotten. You take a moment to stare at the ceiling, having no energy to get up to turn your lights off. Until the doorbell sounds.

Of course you knew who it was the second you heard, but the voice paired with your brother’s conversing outside was enough to have you catapulting out of bed. You slap your hand over the switchboard, turning off all your lights, moving across the room to pull your curtains shut, cascading complete darkness in the room. You fly under the covers as a last effort to convince, covering your face with the sheets just as you hear a knock.

The door creaks open slightly as Seokmin calls out your name.

“Are you up? Mingyu’s here, he brought coffee.” He whispers slowly. You don’t respond.

He calls out your name one more time before you hear the door click shut. You don’t move till you hear his muffled voice on the other end, “She’s knocked out, her head was hurting, better let her rest.”

Heat pricks the sides of your face as your body finally relaxes, borderline embarrassed at how you were hiding from him like a middle schooler who thinks she’s in love. Which you were at one point; now you're a college kid who thinks she’s in love.

You try not to focus too much on the sounds coming from outside, burying under the covers to attempt at sleep for real this time. Eyes screwed shut, you can’t help but open them at every other intonation. There was no way you could figure out what they were saying if you tried, between the door and the TV, it was all a taunting buzz in your ears.

You do end up falling asleep. But only after you hear the droning of the TV turn off, and the distinct goodbyes as the front door clicks shut.

Keeping to your promise, you stay away from late nights for the next couple of weeks. Joshua so far as commends you for declining invitations, offering dinner on him on one particular phone call.

“You know, I was serious when I said I was proud of you.” Joshua voices solemnly as you attempt to cut a strip of meat onto the grill. You snort as a response.

“I wasn’t like, an alcoholic, you’re making it sound worse than it was.”

“It was still bad for it to affect you in that way. Takes a lot to get back up from heartbreak”

“Especially one that’s lasted for nearly a decade.” You sigh as you give up on the meat, handing the scissors and tongs over.

“Are we still talking about that?” He raises his eyebrows.

A smile makes its way to your face, nibbling on a radish, “No.”

“Good. Because we need to talk about if we want our noodles hot or cold.”

“Seok! SEOK! Where the fuck did you put my pimple patches?” Your screams echo across the house yet garner no response. Opting to yank open the fridge, you dig through through the box of face masks to find them possibly laying at the bottom, forgotten. Seokmin bounds into the kitchen, towel in hand as he pats at his damp hair.

“What?”

“Nothing,” you huff, shoving the unfruitful box back into the cabinet, "you used up all the patches.”

“Patches? Pimple patches? We’ve been out for a month, just use this tube in the drawer.” Pulling open the drawer, he rummages for a moment before emerging with a sickly yellow tube of what looked like poorly marketed toothpaste.

“You want me to put this on my face?”

“Yeah, it works, zit on my nose was gone by morning.” He stuffs the tube back in the drawer not before squeezing a small amount on his fingers to dab on your face.

“Ew, get your dirty hands away from my face.” You grip his wrists before he tries to move in further.

He does nothing but shush you, shaking off your hands as you grumble in silence, letting him finger paint on your face. You move up to fix a roller on your head, undoing it before rolling the bit back in, resulting in another “tsk” emitting form your brothers concentrated face.

“Okay, enough! I don’t have that many zits.” You pull away as Seokmin moves to wash his hands.

“Are you going to bed right now?” He asks as you move over to the door.

“Yeah. I’m not going to sleep, though.”

“Gyu’s coming over, you were asleep when he was here last too.”

It seemed as though every bone in your body rattled against your flesh.

“When is he coming?” You ask quickly, frozen in your spot.

The doorbell rings.

“Right now, I guess.” He snickers to himself.

You can only watch in mild horror as he moves to open the door, words escaping you. You follow behind him, trying to stop him, yet not doing much other than reach the front door yourself, fingers frozen yet mildly trembling.

“Wait!” You finally whisper-shout, “Don’t open it!”

Seokmin pauses to give you a look, “Why? He’s seen you look worse, it’s fine”

The door wrenches open before you can protest any further, a cartoonish moment of the hunched figure of you, hands out in a nearly there grip. You’ve failed, and the chorus of ‘hey’’s reach your ears in almost a mocking manner. There’s a conscious effort on your end to not look up too high, keeping to chest eye level for your own sanity. What you find once your vision clears from the white blur, is that there’s not one, but two people at the door.

Mingyu’s brought a girl.

Standing behind the door meant there was no immediate attention on you, which should have been a perfectly good opportunity for you to book it to your room, but you don’t. You stand there instead, staring at the back of their heads like a child in wonder.

Once you are noticed by your brother, he winces at your appearance, a silent apology, like he didn’t know about this new guest either. Or he was apologising for what he was about to do next, you wouldn’t know, because you wouldn’t be hearing him out when you throttle him later.

“This is my sister”

All three sets of eyes are on you now, a moment of silence as they take in your appearance. The grandma nightgown, in all its blue and collared glory, does absolutely nothing to boost your confidence in front of the very pretty lady, whose hair cascades down her back, whose skin stands as clear as a summer sky.

“Hi!” She breaks the awkward silence first, “I’m Jia, it’s nice to meet you! I’ve heard a lot about the both of you.”

What?

“Mingyu has a hard time keeping his mouth shut, I’m not surprised.” Seokmin tries to joke as he motions for the couch in the centre of the room. You catch him kicking a stray sock out of the way as he urges them to sit.

With the way your brother is acting, you don’t doubt this is his first time meeting this girl. Mingyu is yet to clarify why he would bring a friend to the house unannounced, but something tells you you already know. You remain on the sidelines, inching away to the hallway slowly, trying your hardest to not bring attention to yourself.

“I haven’t seen you around campus ever, are you new?” Seokmin prods, his voice slightly on edge.

“Oh, um-” Jia begins but is cut off by Mingyu as he speaks for her.

“Jia doesn’t go to our uni, we met at Seungcheol’s, we’ve been dating for a couple months.”

There it is.

“Oh! Couple months? How come I didn’t know?” You don’t miss the hurt laced in your brother's words, your fists clenching slightly at the oncoming silence.

“That’s on me, sorry. It’s just…I didn’t want anyone to know ‘cause I thought he was playing around when he said he liked me, I wanted to see if he was being real or not.” She laughs nervously, and you see the back of her head move as she talked. You can’t help but note the arm that’s swung across the back of the couch where she sat. “Please don’t be mad at him! I promise it was me that stopped him.”

You don’t hear too much of what happens afterwards as you slip away into the crevice of your bedroom, standing in the entryway in absolute silence, attempting to absorb what you had just witnessed outside. Approaching the full length mirror on the other end, it takes a lot out of your to bring yourself to look straight into it, regretting it immediately as you acknowledge your appearance.

Of course, the woman who actually succeeded in winning over the man that rejected you had to witness you in the unappealing yellow paste that your brother graciously dotted all over your face, not leaving the giant rollers in your hair to cut you any slack either. You could cry about it, but you don’t. Instead you lay back in your bed, sniffling in the dark, just as you had the last time Mingyu was over.

It’s significantly easier to drown out the voices this time round, especially when your mind is preoccupied with a couple months. Your birthday was a couple months ago, does that mean they started dating right after that conversation? Or were they already offical and you had waltzed in with your princess dreams about your brother’s best friend being in love with you.

It made perfect sense at the time, and no sense at all anymore as you wonder why on Earth he was being so forwardly flirty with you if there was another girl all along. There’s a bitter taste in your mouth as you recall how he had quit perceiving you altogether after that night, and you can’t help but mentally commend Jia for testing him by keeping it quiet. Especially when he was going around flirting with his best friend’s sister.

It didn’t take long for you to guage Mingyu’s reputation when you first dropped into university, the senior having made himself a reputation none less similar than he had in high school. He was popular, but with his outgoing personality and a face like that it was hard not to be liked. Your brother was right there beside him, living it up as carefree college kids, suddenly remembering he now had a little sister to tend to. You were grateful for the both of them for being there to help you take your first baby steps, all the rites of passage and which professors sucked the least, not leaving the leaky water fountain to never drink from.

That was when Mingyu’s (supposed) advances had begun.

You’re projected back to first semester, when both of them had dragged you to the same couch outside, talking about an “important thing you should know”.

“You walk into class one day, expecting nothing out of the ordinary. Your professor drones on as usual, your classmates look bored as usual, you’re tired as usual. But then!” Seokmin breathes in sharply, and you hear Mingyu bound to the other side of your vision, emerging on the opposite end of the room with a backpack swung over his shoulder.

“The man of your dreams walks by…” Seokmin continues and you snap your head towards him in a panic, suddenly afraid he had found you out. He’s busy though, making ethereal hands in Mingyu’s general direction, while the latter walks in comedic slow motion like he’s in a K-drama b-roll, complete with passes over his hair and a nonchalant yet controlled expression.

“What is this about?” It comes out snappier than you had intended, but you’ve had one scare already.

“Just!” your brothers hands turn from graceful to clenched, like it was you he was trying to squish you for interrupting him, “Listen, alright?”

“The man of your dreams walks by,” he goes back to his narrator voice, “and you wonder where he’s been all your life. You start talking, you’re enamoured. You start thinking about introducing him to your parents, what your wedding’s gonna look like, what your kids are gonna look like!”

Your face is becoming increasingly warped the more you listen to him speak, not being able to fathom where this was going.

“But no!” It’s Mingyu that speaks this time, pushing a jolt out of you as he slams the backpack on the floor, pointing directly at you for added effect, “You’re better than that!”

“What the fuck-” you start, but are shushed by a physical finger on your lips as Mingyu shushes you. Seokmin slaps his hand away.

“Our point is, that you’re probably gonna come across someone who you think is your next boyfriend.” Your brother continues, “But lucky for you, you have two seasoned professionals here to tell you that it’s nothing but fresher’s fever.”

“It’s a new place, new people, loads of new experiences; you’re bound to latch on one of the first couple pieces of meat. Our advice is don’t, because it will happen to you. But you also now know that your just in a deluded stage right now. Give it a semester before you start dating people, trust.” Mingyu finishes for Seokmin as he thumps down on the couch next to you.

“So all of this was just another stay away from boys lecture?” You raise your eyebrows.

“Yes and no. You can date whoever you want,” Seokmin answers coolly before quickly adding, “but not right now.”

It was laughable, the thought of latching onto another person when you’d been trying exactly that for years. To have anyone catch your eye, to have anyone sweep you away from this madness that came in the form of Kim Mingyu. Neither of these seasoned professionals had a thing to worry about though, because you weren’t latching on anything that came out of this institute. You had already done so, in a stage more impressionable than this, years and years before any of them knew of the dangers of young girls and new boys in their vicinity.

“Okay, I know you’re like on a self inflicted party ban and all that…” Joshua starts the second he places himself at your table, still haggard looking from jogging across campus.

“Don’t even try.” You warn with filled cheeks.

“Girl, let him finish.” Nayeon chides next to you.

You exhale through your nose heavily, going back to pick at your tray as Joshua continues.

“Cheol’s throwing a little party tonight to celebrate the end of midterms.” He starts, “You should come, it's only gonna be a handful of people.”

“A handful?” You repeat, unable to bite back the amusement in your voice.

“Come on, your brother’s going as well! You’ll be fine, I promise we’ll keep you in check.”

“I don’t need to be kept in check, I’m fine.” You grumble.

“Perfect! Nothing stopping you then, I’ll pick you both up at 8.” The words are barely out of his mouth before he’s back to sprinting out the vicinity, garnering looks from oncoming traffic, off to his next pestering destination

“I don’t think I’d explicitly agreed.” You voice.

“He got what he wanted.” Nayeon snorts, “Whatever, we’ll get ready at my place after this.”

“Weren’t you guys worried about me? Now you’re actively dragging me to parties.” You drop your utensils onto the tray.

“Too much of either isn’t a good thing, you went from forgetting what home looks like to exclusively holing yourself up in there.” She stabs a piece of potato with a chopstick and tries to pry it in your mouth. “Besides, Cheol’s parties are always super intimate, they’re all gonna be people you know, don’t worry.”

‘Super intimate’, as Nayeon had put it, had amounted to at least fifty people as you take in the crowd at the floor of the house. Despite not being packed to the brim, it was still coming out to look like a full house, random items already scattered across the floors in true frat party fashion.

“Do you want a beer?” Nayeon asks, dragging you to the kitchens by the hand as you crane your neck to spot people.

“Uh, no. Is there juice?”

“Um, there’s a questionable looking fruit punch.” she wrinkles her nose at the blaring red bowl on the counter.

You sigh, grabbing a cup, “I’ll risk it.”

Joshua was air the second he had walked in with you, whisked away to socialize with his own hoard of acquaintances, leaving both you and Nayeon to fend for yourselves. You’re yet to spot your brother, granted you’d only been here a mere five minutes, his rowdy demeanor making him quite easy to spot in usual circumstances.

Taking a casual sip of the electric red liquid you’re forced to make a face as you register the flavour, alerting Nayeon, who was too busy fiddling through multiple crystal bottles.

“What? Is it bad?”

“What the fuck is that?” You sputter in astonishment, wondering how the bowl was already half empty. “Who’s drinking this stuff?”

She grabs the cup from you before taking a gulp herself, emerging the same gagging mess you were, eyes watering at the taste. It seemed almost comical when Seokmin shows up behind her, waiting to greet only to find both of you doubled over. His eyes move over to the potion in Nayeon’s hand and passes a knowing look.

“He’s brought The Whole Shabang out of retirement.” He states like it was the obvious answer.

Nayeon spits first, “Are we supposed to know what that means?”

“Cheol got drunk one time in freshman year and mixed every ounce of alcohol he owned into one big bowl of despair. We retired it last year when the bowl broke and stained his counters. But anyway, beginners are supposed to dilute it before downing it.”

“That’s great and everything but why is it so red?” You ask.

Another voice speaks from behind you, turning around to find Seungcheol himself. “There’s an entire thing of food colouring in there, gives it an edge don’t you think?”

“I’m scared of you.” You deadpan, a sour expression remaining on your face.

Seunghceol is quick to suggest the backyard for some fresh air to distract from the flavour it’s left in your mouths, commenting on the nice weather. Neither him nor your brother stick around for too long though, dipping at the holler of their names somewhere inside. You’re comfortable though, despite being blocked off by a concrete railing, the stairs make a nice haven for the both of you to lie down and stare into the clearer than usual sky. Cheol was right, it was nice outside.

“I can’t lay down like this, I need to get a drink.” Nayeon announces not even five minutes later.

“Why didn’t you get one when we were there?” You groan, but she doesn’t respond as she hops back inside, throwing a promise to be quick in the air behind her.

The wall supports you as you deflate into it, legs sprawled across the steps in disarray. Nobody could see you anyway, taking full advantage as you practically manspread. The side of the pool that’s in your vision is empty by grace; calm save for the giant flamingo floaty that bobs itself into view from the edge of the wall you lean against. A breathy laugh leaves you at the sight.

The railing on your other side is mostly concealed, you can still make out the wicker sofa set, complete with an unlit fireplace. It’s unoccupied, for the time being, as you register a conversation floating closer and closer to your ears. Wondering if Nayeon had brought friends, you stand up quickly to look over the railing to check for her face over the sliding door that leads inside.

There’s no Nayeon in sight.

But there is Mingyu.

His mere presence knocks your butt back onto the concrete the second you see him stumbling over the threshold with a hoard of his friends, nothing short of his picturesque party strut. There was little reason for you to hide from him at all, considering the very possible notion that he would look right past you if you happened across his line of sight. Space floating in, he’d ignore you for your sake or his own, perhaps even both.

For now, he’s seated himself with a few other people on the wicker sofas, leaving you hugging your knees to your chest, head on the concrete wall with the lingering feeling akin to that of a trapped mouse. Closing your eyes, you blow out air in an attempt to relax yourself, take light of the situation you’ve found yourself in. You could get up and leave in this very moment, possibly go unnoticed if you stalked back inside before they began their rattle not meant for your ears.

And yet, you find yourself unable to move, not even when you hear their topic shift to Mingyu’s new beau. Suddenly you wish you’d moved inside the moment you saw him.

“Was it you that stopped Jia from coming to parties?” You hear somebody ask.

“Why the fuck would I do that?” Mingyu grumbles, he pauses and you assume he’s taking a swing of his drink. “We started going out and suddenly she didn’t wanna come, that’s fine though, it isn’t her vibe anyway.”

There’s a snigger that moves across everybody seated, you hear loud thwack before Mingyu speaks again, “What’s so fucking funny?”

“This girl’s made you work for it, huh?”

“Isn’t that like, his brand? Don’t look at me like that, you’re the one yapping about liking a challenge all the time.”

“Yeah, remember Minji?”

“I still think she was only pretending to not like you, her clique was always smacking at her to straighten up when you’d come over like we couldn’t see everything.” You could almost hear the eye rolling.

“Change the subject, will you?” Mingyu proposes, sounding exhausted at the prodding already.

“I apologise for the ex talk and nothing else.”

There’s a pause for another choke of laughter across the group, and you wonder what it was that they found so funny.

“I don’t know if I should say this…” Somebody begins, but is cut off by Mingyu.

“Then don’t say it.” He snaps, but you don’t miss his own jest.

“I honestly thought you were gonna date Seok’s sister at some point. I mean, common consensus is that bagging your best friend’s sister is… what you’d call a challenge.”

What the fuck.

You feel your eyes drifting closed at the turn this conversation has taken, wishing to simply fall asleep at what it’s come to. Somebody speaks up.

“Nah, that’s like, the grand slam prize, that one comes after he’s done hanging with the side quests.”

The situation is making itself out to be something out of a fever dream.

Mingyu tsks, and you note a jostle happening through the gaps of the railing. “I’m leaving.”

You find yourself hugging yourself tighter, eyes shut like he wouldn’t be able to see if you couldn’t see him. Not that it was possible unless he peered directly through the railing in his peripheral.

“OKAY! Okay! We’re kidding.” There’s a pause. “Okay, but really…”

Another pause, this time longer. You hate how you can picture the ghost of an exasperated smile on Mingyu’s face, a bite of his lip perhaps, dejected at the shoulder with his longing, distant look. You hate how your mind fills the gaps of him the railing won’t allow you to see.

“Seok’s not the type to beat me up if I dated his sister. And besides…” He sighs, halting his words.

“Besides what?” Somebody chimes in.

“I’m not interested in going after someone who’s chased my tail for the past fifteen years.”

There’s a chorus of hisses and oh’s, a few bounts of laughter in their disbelief. You can feel your stomach twist, heat pooling your figure.

It would’ve been better if his words had hit you like a gong, maybe the aftermath wouldn’t have felt as horrid. But the connotations crept up on you like a million spiders making their trek up to your brain, waiting to stick their crawlers in the bits that would allow those words to hold meaning for you. You can feel the electric red of Seungcheol’s god awful concoction begin to rise up in your throat like bile; burning, imprinting.

Mingyu had said what he had said. And everything was in it’s place, in finality.

Despite the nearly four year age gap, you and Seokmin had co-existed without the semblance of an older-younger duo. It was mostly owed to Seokmin's shy nature, and his difficulty making solid friends. That, however, didn’t last long as your brother progressed through middle school.

You had met Mingyu for the first time when Seokmin brought his first ever friend from school home for dinner.

Despite being barely nine years old and half spoon fed by your mother at the same table, the prospect of Seokmin’s new friend was equal to you having a new friend – which caused enough excitement as you brought your favourite cartoon books into your brother’s room to show this new person after dinner.

As the following year progressed, you saw less and less of your brother, and more and more of newer faces of ‘friends’ that you weren’t allowed to play with. It was distressing enough to be told by your mother that something of your brother’s was not yours, but even more so when you were kicked out of the room by Seokmin himself for the very first time.

It wasn’t as trauamtising as it felt in the moment, because you grew to find your own group of friends, doing the same as you’d kick your brother out for being annoying – except unlike you, he was doing it on purpose.

Mingyu was a recurring face, one that was nicer to you on the days your brother was meaner, more forgiving on the days your relatively new middle school was relentless. He fit himself in your life easier than you had realised, more comfortable than you soon found you were comfortable with.

“Did you take my guitar picks?” Your brother bursts into your room just as your about to fall into your after school nap, grip loosening on the book in hand.

Jolting awake at the sound of loud voice, you don’t respond as you attempt to orient yourself.

“Well? Did you?” He demands again.

“What? No, I don’t know where your stupid guitar pick is.” You grumble. “Get out.”

“It’s not in my room that has to mean you took it, where is it?”

Mingyu emerges from behind him, hand on his arm as he tries to pull his iron grip off of your doorway. “It’s probably just in your bag, you haven’t even looked!”

Kicking the covers off, you sit up in a disarray, progressively annoyed at your brother for ruining your perfect descent into dreamland.

“I don’t have shit, you just suck at keeping tabs on your stuff!” You grit.

There’s a stagnant pause as he stares at you from the doorway. You can sense it coming. And it does.

“MOM! SHE JUST SWORE!” He yells into the hallway, bounding to where your mother was, leaving an unsure Mingyu in your doorway.

Surprisingly, you were just glad he was gone, wanting to melt back into the covers. You make eye contact with Mingyu. “I really don’t have it.”

“It’s probably in there somewhere, he’s just not looking.” He mumbles, standing a little awkward. “Um, go back to whatever it was, I’ll close your door.”

He does so, allowing you to finally slump back into your pillows to go back to your nap.

You find out quickly that you couldn't sleep after that.

The controller is becoming increasingly uncomfortable to hold. It doesn’t help that you’re brother is chewing on his four additional pieces of gum behind you on the couch, making obnoxious comments about your gaming form.

You’re also sitting a foot away from Kim Mingyu on the floor, with whom you’re forced to battle out on Mario Kart.

“Why’re you clicking the buttons so hard, chill out.” You heat Seokmin say, continued by his wet chomping right by your ear.

“How hard is it to chew with your mouth closed?” Mingyu grits.

“What? Like this?” Seokmin leans over to Mingyu, chewing even louder, mouth wrenched open and closed right into his ear. Mingyu makes a sound before falling to his side, covering his ears at the ghastly sound, pushing him back with his free hand to shut him up.

You barely crack a smile at the unfolding, watching them continue to wrestle half on the floor. It’s noisy when you set your controller down, chest heavy, unfolding your legs to walk into the hallway to your room. Unnoticed.

You only reemerge to feed yourself, inspecting the fridge for possible leftovers. Settling on an apple, you’re closing the fridge when you see Mingyu walk in, seemingly taken aback to see you there. You freeze with your mouth still attached to the apple to take a bite.

“Oh! Where’d you go when we were playing? Didn't notice you gone till I got him to spit that wad of gum out his mouth.”

“Uh, just tired. Took a nap.”

He hums in response and you're just about to leave when he starts talking again.

“Hey, did you move the popcorn somewhere else? Could’ve sworn it was in here last week,” he mumbles as he rummages through a cabinet.

“Oh. Um. It’s in the pantry.” You move before you can think, grabbing the box and slamming it on the counter, pausing briefly before reaching for the popcorn bowl and setting it on the counter next to it. “Here.”

You don’t wait for a reply before grabbing your apple and moving out the kitchen, only to bump into your brother at the door.

“Where’ve you been?”

“Napping,” you say, moving around him to go your own way but are stopped yet again as he calls for you.

“We’re gonna watch a movie! You can lie on the couch.”

Turning around, you catch sight of your brother still in the doorway, and more intriguing, Mingyu also expecting an answer from inside the kitchen behind him. You gulp as you attempt to remain casual.

“Nah, I’m good. You guys have fun.”

You’re nearly at your door when you hear your brother speak. “She didn’t even ask what we were watching.”

Nayeon catches up with you before you notice, pulling your headphones away from your ears to announce her presence, not slowing down as you walked to campus.

“Are you still upset about that Mingyu thing?” She asks when noting your silent demeanor. “We talked about this, come on.”

“Yeah and we concluded that it’s not an easy thing for me to just get over.” You huffed.

“You know what he’s like…”

“Which is why I should’ve seen this all coming.” You turn around the corner with her.

“That’s not what I meant either.”

“I don’t know what came over me that day. I was doing so well for so long and I had to go ruin it because I’m – I deluded myself into thinking I had a chance.” You’re breathing heavily when you find a table in the air conditioned common room, yanking your bag off and slumping into the sofa. “None of this would’ve happened if I just shut the fuck up.”

“What wouldn’t have happened?” Seungcheol plops down next to Nayeon, butting into the conversation.

“Aren’t you intrigued.” Nayeon muses.

“Especially when it’s none of my business.”

“Charming.”

“Anywho,” he sighs, throwing himself back against the couch. “I’ve been tasked with rounding people up for an assignment.”

“Are you gonna experiment on us?” you ask, referring to his chemistry major.

“Nah, this is for an elective. Faculty needs volunteers for a photography class.”

“So they need models?” You ask.

“I mean, anyone who signs up is automatically a model, so yeah they need models.”

“Are we getting paid?”

“You get to say you modeled for me.”

“How convincing.” Nayeon deadpans.

You’re stifling a snicker as you see Joshua walking up to where you were sat, planting himself next to you.

“What’re we talking about?” He asks, pulling his laptop out almost immediately.

“Nothing, just how Seungcheol needs a reality check,” you sigh.

He barely acknowledges the comment, going straight to business typing away. “Hey, you're staying for the summer right?”

“Ew,” Seungcheol voices.

“I am,” You confirm.

“For what?” He sputters.

“Is this you offering to pay for a round trip?”

He silences quickly after that, giving room for Joshua to ask his next question.

“Are your parents coming for your brother’s grad?”

“Mhm, only for the night, though.”

“Oh, did you hear back from the bookstore too?” he asks.

“I’m gonna apply right before break, I’m swamped right now.”

“Let me know when you do, the restaurant might need another hire, you could work there if you want.”

You make a face. “Appreciate the sentiment but I don’t think I’m in the right state of mind to be working in customer service.”

Joshua’s hands freeze over his keyboard as he breathes out a delayed laugh. Nayeon mimics him.

“Right state of mind?” Seungcheol’s eyebrows are furrowed. “Wait, what were you talking about before I sat down again-”

He’s cut off by a voice bellowing your name from across the common room. All four of you perk up at the sound, locking in on Mika aggressively pointing her wrist at you from yards away. You sit up with a jerk, checking the time. You were nearly thirty minutes late for your lecture.

“Josh, move.” You basically climb over him to get out of your seat, waving a hasty goodbye as you sprint to an exasperated Mika.

“I’ve been waiting outside the hall for ages, you said we’d go in together!” she chides as you both speedwalk.

“Sorry, I lost track of time…” You huff out a breath. “I just started talking about…whatever.”

“Why’d you have that face on in there?” she asks.

“Huh? Oh, I was-”

“Nevermind, I don’t wanna know.” She picks up the pace and reaches the door before you do, rendering it impossible for you to speak to her after that.

You’ve forgotten about it by the time you come home to an empty house, both Mika and Nayeon in your arms. It doesn’t take long for them to make themselves comfortable on the couch, looking at you expectantly like children waiting to be fed. You do that, courtesy of the half eaten pizza that sits on the coffee table.

“I think you need to get drunk,” Nayeon voices from her end of the couch.

Mika is immediate with her response, “Don’t encourage her.”

“Hey!” You pout, “I haven’t gotten drunk in a while.”

“Keep it that way,” she shudders, “don’t need another Mingyu fiasco.”

Your chewing slows at the sound of his name, a strange feeling settling in your stomach at the thought of him. Setting down your half eaten slice, you brush off your fingers.

“I mean…” Nayeon starts after a long pause.

“We don’t. Need another Mingyu fiasco, I mean.” You cut in.

“If only he’d learn to shut up.” Nayeon grumbles, a sour expression on her face.

Mika’s been shifting looks between the both of you, seemingly confused. “Am I missing something?”

Despite not having the intention, you find yourself telling her what you heard while enclosed in the staircase. You attempt to keep it concise, for the sake of your own sanity, but Nayeon’s grumbling is only pushing you deeper into a rant. You’d be lying if you said you didn’t let a couple frustrated tears make their way down your face.

Mika’s response as brisk as your explanation was passionate, brushing over the topic quickly before you got too heated. You appreciated it.

“Have you considered signing up for the photography thing?” Mika asks.

“You know, I was thinking about that too.” Nayeon pulls a finger up in signed patience to wait till she finished the remaining pizza in her mouth. “You should do it. It’ll put your mind off…him. You’ll be busier too.”

“I have a million things to do, I’m busy enough.” You retort.

“You’re busy studying at home. Where he could drop in at any point of day.” She points.

Your open your mouth to rebut again, only to close it as you fail to find a reason to deny her point. “Okay, still!”

“Just – think about it, okay. It’ll put more on your plate but maybe it’ll help.”

That was the last of your Mingyu talk, not that you could carry on when your brother comes slumping into the house after his class, stealing a slice of pizza as he makes his way to his room. He’s slumped at the shoulders, and you egg him to take a nap before he collapsed on the living room floor.

Both Nayeon and Mika are quick to leave after that, leaving you with leftover pizza and your thoughts.

You sprawl your things out on the coffee table, taking advantage of the silent house to get some work done. Nayeon was right, as you think of the prospect of Mingyu entering at any given moment to bother your brother as a constant threat.

It’s not until your prepping dinner with Seokmin that the project is brought up again.

“There’s leftover Chow Mein Mingyu made yesterday, shove that in too.” He yawns as he pushes the box over.

You can only stare at the box in mild agitation, contemplating if you should simply chuck it into the garbage chute. Unfortunately, by experience, you knew Mingyu made really good Chow Mein, so you begrudgingly slide the opened box into the microwave to heat up, deciding you’d push Seok to eat it before you have a chance to take a bite.

It’s silent while you eat, Seokmin still in a daze from his earlier nap, shoving spoonfuls of noodles in between bites of pizza. It’s not until your halfway through eating before he jolts up slightly like he’d just remembered something.

“Did you hear about that volunteering thing from the photography department? They want models for some project.”

“Oh, yeah.” You pause, thinking back to what Nayeon had proposed. “Are you gonna sign up?”

“No, but you should.”

“I don’t know, I still have a lot of prep for finals.”

“You get extra credit if it helps,” he notes.

That was news to you. There’s a frown on your face as you deny, “No, you don’t.”

“They’re doing it ‘cause they weren’t getting the response they wanted. I found out just now too, they’re gonna put it up on the bulletin tomorrow. Might wanna decide before then.”

There were no questions asked after the realization, blue light of the laptop casting your face aglow in the darkened room as you hit the big blue Confirm button on the website. Skimming through the subsequent email, you find you won’t be needed till next week, the date and time making it’s way to your calendar.

Now, if you had known what the next week truly held for you, there was no doubt you’d be sending in a cancellation email at first chance.

But you didn’t know. So you simply went to bed, falling asleep to the vague idea of searching for modeling tips on youtube during the coming weekend, entertaining the mild possibility that this might be the thing that puts you at peace at last.

The photography classes are held in regular lecture rooms, as you find out as you file into the sparingly filled hall at the date your calendar has graciously alerted you for. There was an image of a larger, more spacious area for a discipline pertaining to the arts, yet to be fair, the idea of having to create this form of art within a four walled containment did seem a little counter productive.

Nonetheless, you find yourself seated in a spare chair, waiting for the clock to hit nine on a Saturday morning for the shuffling professor at the front of the room to begin. Your eyes make passovers across the gradually filling room, searching for a semblance of Seuncheol’s bright blond hair to wave him over. There’s no sign of him five minutes before the minute hit twelve, and you’re thinking about slipping to the restroom before it can to kill the remaining time.

There’s another person filing into the room as you rise from your chair, and you pause in attempt to recognize Cheol in the grey zip up.

Except you don’t find Seungcheol, not at all.

Mingyu is walking into the classroom, gaze sweeping across the hall as he seats himself in the front bottom row, head thrown back as he sifts through his perfect hair with his fingers.

You aren't sure why your brows furrowed like they did, or why you planted your butt back onto the chair with the force that you did; especially when all you wanted to do was book it out of the room in full velocity.

He was taking this class. Of course you knew that, especially when it was all he would yap about at any point he graced your presence.

You can feel your purpose in the room fade to nothing as you register him as a unit. You want to blame someone, but you know it’s all you fault. You knew he’d be here; if your mind had only thought fit to remind you at any point in the past week.

In regular Mingyu fashion, if he’d seen you, he does nothing to show it as you find him unraveling a loose thread off of his jacket. You keep your eyes on him, remaining mortified at your blatant disregard to the information that Mingyu was also in this class. Come to think of it, it was probably Mingyu who told Seokmin about the added credit in the first place. You want to kick yourself for not questioning your brother’s apparent magical source of information.

There’s nothing that can be done as you feel Seungcheol finally slip into the seat next to you just as the professor in the front of the room begins to speak. You’re not in the right headspace to make conversation, so you're grateful for the small acknowledgment as the professor begins to drone.

“Each student has been given a theme to work with, they’re all different and given to the people whom I saw fit for the job. You’ll be receiving your packets with your theme today, so remember to pick them up from the front desk before you leave,” she begins.

“As for your models,” she switches to the next slide over to reveal a spreadsheet full of names. “Their names will be right next to yours, the photography students.”

The entire room lurches forward as a unit, eyes squinted and whispers exchanged as they search for their partners in the sea of names. Seungcheol is zooming in on the picture he took with his phone, eyes zooming over to find his name.

“Hey, I found yours!” he announces, moving the phone over to you.

He’s zoomed into your full name on the screen, and your moving the picture aside to see the name across from it. Except, you find you wish you hadn’t.

—Kim, Mingyu.

If you needed more confirmation that the universe was simply against you, you’d gotten the message as you prayed the letters would morph into something else before your very eyes.

You seem to have been staring at the name for too long, because Seungcheol snatches his phone back from your grip to see for himself after you refused to answer his questions of what the name next to yours was.

“Oh, it’s Mingyu! That’s easy, you're basically related.”

You wanted to slap him.

Before you can stop him, he’s yelling the boy’s name across the room amidst the growing chatter, the biggest, stupidest grin on his face. “Mingyu! I found your model, she’s right here!

You wanted to squeeze Seungcheol’s neck till his head popped off.

Mingyu turns around at the call, registering his friend’s words despite the growing noise. He registers you and you watch as he turns his head back at the projection, like he was confirming it was true.

Of course he’s as petrified as you are, if not more. But the embarrassment of his apparent disbelief made its hot way into your stomach and chest nonetheless, your breakfast threatening to make its way back up.

By the time the professor’s done with her bit and the room has begun to file out, you’ve found yourself standing outside the lecture hall in uncomfortable movement, shifting your weight between both feet and fiddling with the straps of your bag. Every passing face sends a jolt though your stomach as you calculate how jarring it would be if you left right this second without seeing him.

You're counting his steps inside your head, how he’d shuffle for his name on the packet he’s meant to receive, counting in any conversation he’d start with a friend or with the professor. A thought occurs to you, and you wonder if he was searching for you inside. You’re weighing between walking inside and leaving altogether when he makes the decision for you, walking out of the room, booklet in hand.

There goes the toast blaring its way back up your esophagus.

“Hey,” he says unceremoniously.

You respond with an unreasonably meek “Hi.”

“Seok didn’t tell me you signed up for this.” He points casually.

Well, Seok doesn’t need to tell you everything.

“Oh, I told him while he was like half asleep, pretty sure he thought he dreamt it.”

Mingyu snorts a little at that, a slight smile appearing on his face as he pictures a sleepy Seokmin.

“I can imagine,” he says, before he’s brought back to the matter at hand by you.

You clear your throat before you begin to talk, expression remaining neutral. “Do we need to get started right away?”

“Oh.” He seems a little taken aback at your forwardness. Like he didn’t know why you didn’t want to make small talk with him. “Uh, I don’t even know what theme I have yet. I’ll read over the packet and plan a couple things out before you have to come in.”

“That’s great.” You hold on the straps of your tote. “Text me when you need me.”

With that, you had spun on your heel and stalked away, not leaving room for him to retort with anything at all. You don’t look back.

Nayeon can do nothing but gape as she watches you hold back frustrated tears, picking apart the grass under you as you curse the heavens for your horrible fate. She’s absorbing the situation as you wallow, finding the words to say.

“Fuck, this is my fault,” she breathes out.

“No!” You gasp out, furiously wiping away the irritating tears. “It’s not. I just forgot, it’s my own fault. You were right for trying to get me to do it, it just…”

“You can’t ask to change partners?” she asks.

“I can’t!” You wail, “I’m supposed to not care, how is this me not caring?”

It was ridiculous. Truly. You were sobbing like a child over this, screaming about wanting to not care. But you did care. Too much. Nayeon can do little but hold you as you sniffle into her lap, feeling sick to your stomach at your own childish behaviour.

“Why am I crying about this, this is stupid.”

“You’re stressed, hon, that’s it. You’ve got a lot going on and this just multiplied it.” She’s running a soothing hand over your back. “Just let it out, you need it.”

You emerge from your hunched position to sit up straight, sniffling a little less as you calm down. “Should I withdraw from the project?”

“I mean, if you really want to,” she says softly.

“But?” You sense her apprehension.

“But, maybe you should give it a go.”

You can only blink at her with wet lashes.

“Think of it this way. You need to… build resistance, keep yourself around him regardless. There’s bound to come a point where you start to feel…nothing.”

“Are you trying to work exposure therapy on me?”

“Maybe? If that’s what it means. If you take yourself out of the project, it shows that you care. You need to pretend to not care before you can stop feeling the real thing.”

There’s a pause as you attempt to find reason in her words.

“Listen, I may be talking out of my ass, and if you do end up doing it, it’s gonna be hard – like a lot, but–”

“No. You’re making sense.”

“I am?” She blinks, taken aback at the realisation that you may be listening to her. You nod quietly, “You’re right, I can’t keep running away.”

“So, you’re gonna do it?” She confirms with wide eyes.

Once again, you find it within yourself to nod.

Yeah. You were gonna do it.

Being in Mingyu’s presence and feeling nothing may be the goal, but you realise quickly it’s going to take you a while to restrain the trailing eyes that follow him wherever he goes. Nayeon had warned you, but you realise you may be slightly ill-prepared.

The theme is light. Vague to you but he doesn’t seem too bothered by it. He isn’t looking at you as he talks, eyes darting between the laptop screen and the plethora of papers he’s scattered on the coffee table. “I don’t really have a colour preference for this one but a a deeper blue or a purple would fit pretty well with the sunlight on here.”

You can only nod along in mild understanding, most of your effort exerted on trying to keep your eyes on the screen where he’s pulling up a color wheel. “I probably have something.”

“Do you still have that button up Seok bought you? The one with the stripes?”

You recall the deep blue shirt your brother had gotten you for your first in class presentation, picturing it hung still in your closet. “Uh, yeah I do. I’ll wear it.”

“Bring options, whatever fits the colours. No turtlenecks or crewnecks though…” Mingyu continues to talk, taking notes for you in the process. Your mind, however, is somewhere else.

You hate how your mind takes you to a murkier place, one where the thought of him retaining memory of your closet pieces unprovoked has your neck tingling and your cheeks lifting. Trying to snap out of it before he notices your dazed expression, you pretend to flip through the couple papers in front of you, noting nothing.

“Other than that–” he’s cut off by his phone ringing on the table. Both your gazes dart to the caller ID, and you immediately wish you hadn’t as you register the pink heart on the end. Jia was calling.

He barely spares you a glance as he excuses himself in a mumble, something about being back in a second. You watch him leave through the cafe altogether, emerging on the other end of the glass walls in your direct vision. For the nth time that day, you find it impossible to tear your eyes away from his positively elated face, teeth out on display as talks to his girlfriend. You wonder what they’re talking about, if her face is beaming like his own, wherever she is.

You zone out as you wonder what it’d be like to be the receiving end of an expression like that. To have something within you to be worth his smile, his mumbled pardons and his uninterrupted space. There’s a part of you that wonders if its greed – you’ve gotten to see him nearly everyday for the past decade, perhaps you’ve run your tickets dry.

You realise quickly that Mingyu is no longer in your line of sight as you feel a ruffle on the chair as he sits back on his seat.

“I think we can wrap up here, let me take the first couple shots before I can see where to go with it afterwards.”

You sense his eager want to leave, and you cannot help but beat him to it for your own sake.

“Alright. I’ll see you friday then.” SLiding out of your seat, you make a halfhearted attempt at shuffling his papers in a neater pile, throwing him a half smile before grabbing your bag.

He isn’t watching you leave, you know that. Yet you find yourself refusing to slow down or look back till you round the corner, letting your shoulders finally slump and your pace to come to a temporary halt. It takes you another beat before you begin walking again, breathing in slowly as you navigate your way through the moderately crowded sidewalk. Nearly ramming into a fire hydrant, you shake off the seize that remains in your body, picking up the pace hoping it’d promote less thoughts.

It works, as you unlock your front door, finally shaking off the autopilot. Shifting to the kitchen is easy, rummaging the cabinets for your hidden stash of moonpies with the intention to devour the family box whole. You’re contemplating texting Seokmin to bring you actual food as you make your way to your bedroom, wanting nothing more than to let your covers absorb all the feelings that make you human.

You find it unfortunate as you catch sight of yourself in the full length mirror and the outfit you’d put together before you had left. Your mind goes back to pandemonium as you take in the details, wondering why on earth you’d put in so much effort for a conversation that lasted less than an hour. You tear your eyes away before you begin to truly hate yourself, ripping your jewelry off as you make a beeline to wash your face clean of the makeup you’d put on.

It becomes increasingly difficult to look at yourself even in the bathroom mirror, moisturizer going on more aggressively than what’s good for you. You feel a sting in the back of your eyes and owe it to the face wash.

It’s easier once you’re in bed, your laptop at the ready, and a text on its way as you bug your brother to bring you your favorite burger and milkshake combo. You put your immediate faith in your moonpies for now as you rip the first one open, letting the sweetness bring you a deluded happiness.

“His name hurts.” Your voice comes out echoey, the sound reverberating in the cavern of your chest. The shot on the table is inviting, but you can’t help but feel nauseous at the thought of downing it. Your fizzled out sprite is being good to you, so you let it.

“Hearing you talk about him hurts,” Mika slurs, slumping down onto the beanbag she’s dragged onto the scene, joining you and Nayeon next to the couch.

Letting out a loud sigh that you doubt she can hear over the bass booming across the house, you settle to rest your head back on the couch backrest, staring into the ceiling. “Imagine what it’s doing to me then.”

“I don’t need to.” You can hear the exasperation in her voice.

“Oh, hey, Hao!” Nayeon drags next to you and you lift your head up to see Mika’s boyfriend join her on the already tiny beanbag. He huffs out a hey between a slight smile, slumping almost entirely on his girlfriend. She pats his hair in silent regard.

“I read this research paper about how they can delete the memories out of your brain squiggles,” Nayeon pops in.

“Since when do you read academic material for interest?” Minghao mumbles, fingers busy playing with Mika’s hair.

The pair continue to bicker as your eyes trail across the moderately packed house, the party looking more lowbeat than any other Seungcheol extravaganzas. Not that you were complaining, but when you spot a certain someone, it’s hard not to.

Mingyu files into the kitchen with your brother in tow, beaming face evident over the island as he pours himself what looks like orange juice. Your mood is instantly soured.

“What study was that again?” You poke at Nayeon, the image of the man you wished for gone burned into your forebrain. She glances over to the open kitchen and realises what you’re talking about, coming around with a face of her own.

“That one’s gonna be a hard one to scrub out. But it’s okay, even the toughest stains succumb to bleach that’s strong enough,” she sighs. You’re barely listening to her analogy, not when he’s standing right there rendering it impossible for you to look anywhere else.

“You sound like a commercial.” You can almost hear the crinkle in Mika’s nose as she comments, and you can’t help but breathe out a laugh.

The rest continue with their conversation as you remain quiet for most of the exchange, eyes filling your heart heavy with the way they remain glued to the figure far out into the kitchen. It was less about the fact that you just wanted to look at him and more of how it was forcing you to think about your predicament; something that was weighing you down yet something you couldn’t help.

You can’t be entirely sure how long you managed to stare without getting caught, but when Mika calls your name out harsher than expected, you snap around to divert your attention.

“Huh?”

“Sixth time’s the charm, huh? Get it together, he’s not gonna look at you,” she huffs as she slumps back onto the beanbag, alone this time as you note that Minghao is gone.

It takes you a moment to gather what she had said, mouth gaping open and close as you try to conspire a proper response. “I wasn’t trying–”

“No. Save it. It was my fault for thinking I could sit here without having to sit through more of your Mingyu bullshit.” She’s shuffling out of her bean bag with mediocre difficulty, exasperation on her face as she trudges away to sit with her boyfriend and his friends on the seats on the middle of the floor.

The air seems to have knocked out of your chest as you find the capacity to process what just happened. Seemingly forgotten Nayeon was also here, you note the hand she places on your elbow as a sober attempt to get you to look at her.

The rest of the night passes in a nauseous blur, none that you could really make sense of. You bid Nayeon goodbye as you assured her you’d go home with your brother, waving goodbye to blurred taxi lights as she leaves you alone in front of a dwindling house.

The breath you let out is shaky as your feet remain planted on the concrete, the remnants of tonight passing over you as they came. Deciding you owed it to yourself, you let the tears well up in your eyes. As tired as you were of crying over what was essentially the same thing over and over again, you let yourself tire yourself out once more.

The party was over, and you knew that because you were walking home alone, hoping Nayeon would forgive you for lying to her. But you couldn’t possibly explain the tear stains on your cheeks to your brother, not when he knew nothing. It was better that way; you refuse to be the person that potentially ruins a friendship that’s lasted longer than any other.

You try to keep your sniffling to a minimum as you trudge slowly in the dark, not bothering to wipe your tears. Your stomping grows louder the more you grow frustrated with your thoughts, and it proves not too well for you. There’s a pair of headlights throwing light onto the oncoming street, illuminating you in the process. You want to kick yourself as the realisation settles in, praying the car would simply pass you. Considering the late hour and the fact that you were alone is hitting you at the worst time, wondering if you could pretend to make a call as you walked.

It’s a black sedan that rolls up next to you, slower than what’s considered a normal speed on an empty street. It honks and you nearly halt, owing to the shake that passes through your knees. It honks again, and you can’t help but look to the side to find a window rolled down.

Mingyu sits on the driver’s seat, leaning over to the empty passenger side to grab your attention.

“The Uber’s free! So is the driver,” he yells out the window. “Hop in.”

“I’m alright. I kinda wanna walk.” You shift your weight between your feet, the distance adding an awkward feel.

“Wasn’t asking. It’s the middle of the night, I’m not letting you walk alone.” As he speaks, another car passes from behind him, slowing down. You note the look the other driver is giving you through the window, and it’s enough to convince you to step into Mingyu’s car.

“I think we’re way past the point of formalities, don’t know why you hesitated.” He chuckles as he motions for you to click on your seatbelt. You fumble with it for a moment, his own fingers coming to the rescue to latch it on. You retract your fingers before they can brush with his own any further.

Settling into your seat, you choose to look forward as he picks up speed. “Uhm, just wanted to walk, it was nice outside.”

“Take someone with you next time, it’s nearly midnight,” he warns.

There’s a twinge of annoyance that emerges in the back of your mind for some reason, despite knowing full well that he was right. You just didn’t want to hear it from him.

It’s silent for a bit as the radio plays an uncharacteristically upbeat tune, prompting you to wonder if it was just you who felt the atmosphere pressing in on your chest.

“Did you not bring your car today?” he asks out of the blue, eyes remaining on the road as you glance up at him. One look at his side profile and you’re turning your gaze away.

“No, it’s at the workshop. I came with Nayeon.”

“Why didn’t you leave with her?”

“I…” You pause. “I told her I was gonna go with Seok.”

“Hm. That didn’t happen.”

“It’s like I said,” you mumble.

He hums again in response, dropping the subject.

“Listen, are you…are you okay?” he starts again and it has you looking back up at him.

“Why wouldn’t I be?” You try to hide the bitterness in your tone but it proves difficult.

“I couldn’t help but overhear but I was sitting right there. Hao was talking to Mika about something she’d said to you, about…” He trails off. “I mean, you looked a little upset, I just wanted to ask if you were okay.”

You bit your tongue. Hard.

He knew you were staring at him, he knew you weren’t over him. He knew you were still standing on the same square confinement from months ago. Never changed.

“I’m fine,” you reply, snappier than you had intended.

“Are you sure? I felt like I should’ve said something but Nayeon was right there so I thought…” He sounds unsure and when you see him look at you, with eyes filled with an emotion that makes you nearly gag, you almost lose it. You did not want him to pity you. Nor care for you; especially when it came from a place that nullifies your feelings. You didn’t want him to care for you for the sole reason that you were his best friend’s sister.

“Mingyu, I think it’s best if you drop it.”

“Of course. But it might help if you wanna, you know, feel your feelings.”

Fuck no, you weren’t crying in front of him. Not when you're sure he’s noticed the tear stains on your makeup.

“Mingyu, I said drop it. I don’t need your help, I don’t need to feel anything, I need you stop feeling like you’re obligated to care about me because you’re not.” The words come tumbling out before you can stop them, irritation laced in every snap and dent.

He says your name in an attempt to smooth you over. It only lands him in more trouble.

“No, listen, I get it. You’re uncomfortable about everything but you feel like you need to check up on me at the same time, and I’m here to tell you that you don’t have to worry about that. What happened, happened, and it’s my job to pick up the pieces because it’s my fault. You don’t need to meddle.” You’re breathing hard as you finish, finally settling back in your seat.

He’s already pulling up to your building, heat still penetrating the silence. You unbuckle your seatbelt, mumbling a thanks for the ride.

“Seok’s staying at Cheol’s tonight,” he calls out as you shuffle out the door. “Remember to lock the door.”

You stand sheepishly holding the open door as you nod quietly. “I’ll see you tomorrow for the shoot.”

Middle school was harder than you thought.

Not that you expected it to be easy, but you remained hopeful nonetheless. Fifth grade came plowing for you with an unexpected vigor, which you were feeling especially as you gripped your red marked paper with a vice grip.

It was Mingyu who had found you on the kitchen island sniffling, waiting for your mother to come home and ask you for your dreaded test results.

You drop your head in shame (even more so) when he asks you the inevitable question of “what’s wrong?” Your voice comes out as a mumble. “I failed my first test.”

He blinks as he stops in front of the fridge, opening it to emerge with a carton of chocolate milk and two monsters. He slides the carton over to you as he takes a seat on the other chair.

“Well, what did you get?” he asks as he pops his can open, ears studded black from the piercings he’d gotten done.

You mumble out the number in incoherence that has him hunching down to hear you.

“What?”

“A fifteen!” you finally huff out in exasperation.

“Hm. Better than me I think I got a two at some point. Don’t worry about it, it's not the end of the world.” He says. “D’you want me to turn that into a seventy five?”

You look up confused. “How?”

“You’ll see. Get me your test. And a red marker.”

On that day, Mingyu aided you in your first con, pulling lines to turn the one into a seven right before your eyes.

“There. Now don’t let her look at it too hard or check your answers. And only give it to her if she asks for it.”

He had left back to your brother’s room with the spare can of monster, leaving you to stash your test into your bag and move to seat yourself in a more natural position. You’d gotten away with it as your mother pats you on the back for your first attempt at a fifth grade paper, leaving you with a lesson to work harder, and a memory that stayed with you for years.

The following day is met with a pit of guilt sitting in your stomach before you could even recall the events of last night.

There’s little that you can do to prep as you’re supposed to change at the studio anyway, pushing the remnants of your makeup products into a pouch as a second thought. Your hair seemed fine, deciding you’d see to it if it needed changing when you got there.

You push your departure as far as you could, finding more things to do and more chores to finish before you were due to leave. It takes you a final look at the time before you finally decide to trudge to the door with your things. You cross paths with Seokmin who’s only just coming home, looking worse for wear. He barely acknowledges you as he makes a beeline for his bedroom, disappearing.

He’s probably fine.

By the time you get to the studio Mingyu is already in the middle of setting up, immersed in the switches behind giant studio lights. It’s dark, save for the one studio light thats already on, casting a light on the white backdrop, a single stool sits at the front. Looking around, the place casts an eerie atmosphere, the unattended stations and dark back rooms casting a shiver down your spine despite the Afternoon light outside. Perhaps you were acclimated to the hustle and bustle in behind the scene videos of photoshoots, yet here it was just you and Mingyu.

He doesn’t notice you come in right away, and you’re thankful for the opportunity to recast your words in your head, waiting to be uttered as soon as you say your hellos.

“Oh, hey,” he says normally.

“Hope I’m not too late.”

“No, you’re fine, I’m nearly done setting up,” he says, as he switches the second studio light on, doubling the glow in the room.

“Oh, okay.” Your voice comes out as an uncharacteristic whisper. “Uh, listen, Mingyu, I just wanted to apologize about last night. You were only asking and I was being too harsh.”

He picks up his back from his bent position to look at you, hand coming to rub the back of his neck. “Oh, no, don’t say that, It’s me who should be apologising. I shouldn’t have pried when you said you didn’t wanna talk about it. I’m sorry, really.”

You're opening your mouth to rebut, nails clashing onto each other as your fidgeting gets worse, but you decide to end it. “We’re both sorry, let’s just end this here.”

Both of you have slightly uncomfortable smiles on your faces as Mingyu continues to fidget with his cables and equipment. It went smoother than you’d thought, silently thanking him for keeping it from getting awkward – more awkward than necessary anyway.

“These ones are gonna be basic studies, establishing the usual studio lights in the beginning before we move to the more experimental shots.” He drags his own stool forward to sit directly across from you in front of the plain white backdrop. “Did you bring another black top?”

“I did, do you want me to change?”

“Not yet.” He positions the camera higher, looking like he’s ready. “Okay, relax your body. Shoulders back, chin down. Okay, now a smile, really small, barely there.”

He snaps his first photo and you nearly knock yourself backwards on the stool, lights going off at the shot damn near blinding you.

“You good?”

“I thought the flash was just gonna be your camera.” You frown, coming round.

“Nah, you’ll get used to it. Okay, back in position.”

He takes a couple more pictures, urging you to make miniscule changes to your poses, whatever feels good. You find yourself loosening up, your posture aiding you instead of working against you. “Try putting your hands on the stool, yeah like that, lean forward. Chin up a little more.”

The directions continue from behind the camera as he continues to flash away, and you do your utmost to not let the lights disorient you too much. He lets you take a break when you make a comment about the pure thermal energy in the room, your face no doubt shiny and red from the lights. You’re done after you take a couple more pictures after an outfit change, rendering you free to leave within the hour.

“I think you’re done,” he announces, stretching as he leaves his own stool. “I’ll send you deets for tomorrow, we’ll probably get a lot more done.”

“Oh, cool.”

Gathering your stuff doesn’t take you as you go up to tell him you’re about to leave. You find him fiddling with cables, packing everything up before leaving himself. You make a split second decision, dropping your bag before announcing yourself.

“Let me help.”

“Huh? Oh no, it’s fine. I just need to shove them in storage.”

“That’s alright, I’ll help. What d’you want me to do?”

“Uh, Maybe unplug all the ports, and um, turn the lights on too, I guess. It’s gonna get dark if you don’t.”

Cleaning up was easier when those god awful studio lights weren’t overheating the entire hall, collecting cables and putting equipment back into their places. It was over before you knew it.

“Is your car back from the workshop?” Mingyu yells from inside one of the side rooms collecting his stuff.

“Not yet, I’m getting it back on the 15th. Ordered a cab.”

“You’re going home from here, right?” He emerges from the room, arms in the middle of slipping into his jacket. “I’ll drive you.”

“No, it’s fine I have to meet Nayeon at uni and–”

“Even better, I was going there too. Come on, I just need to kill the lights.”

You’re out of saviours, evident as you slide into his car, yet again with no choice. It’s meant to be a short drive, considering the studio is barely ten minutes away from where you need to be, yet it feels like an impromptu road trip with the way the roads seem to stretch.

It’s significantly less awkward than last night, perhaps owed to him not being as inclined to make conversation, unlike last night.

By the time he’s pulling up, you already have your bag in hand, a thank you frozen on your tongue as you register who it is that’s standing outside the library. You groan internally as you see Nayeon waiting for you, immersed in something on her phone. Praying she stays occupied, you rush your, “thanks, I’ll see you tomorrow,” as you hope she doesn’t see you slip out of the familiar car.

She does notice. Looking up at the sound of yout door opening, she catches clear sight of you stepping out of the car, Mingyu in the driver’s seat. You can tell she’s subdued her reaction, but the eyebrows gives her away as they shoot up at the sight. Trudging up to her is a nightmare and a half, dreading the questions she’s going to ask as you hear Mingyu rev away.

“Are my eyes deceiving me?” she breathes out, eyes wide, mouth open in jest.

“Quit it, I have work to get done.” You choose to lead her straight into the library where you know she won’t be able to ask you any more probing questions.

That doesn’t seem to sedate her though as she continues to whisper a million questions, watching you pull your stuff out.

“I had a shoot with him today, he offered to drop me off and I couldn’t say no!”

“Oh my gosh!” she exclaims a little too loud, owing a couple nasty surrounding looks her way, including yours. She continues quieter, pulling your laptop away from you so you’d pay more attention to her. “How’d it go? Did you pose all sexy for him, did he look nervous?”

“I did not pose sexy, I posed normally, because I have a conscience,” you snap, yanking your laptop back from her grip.

She’s smiling like an idiot, unaffected by your annoyance. “Is he gonna drop you off after every shoot? Oh my god! Don’t you dare get your car from the garage, give it to Seokmin, or, or, tell them to keep it!”

“Nayeon, shush!” It’s your turn to whisper shout at her gradually increasing volume, pushing her to quit leaning over the desks.

“Okay, okay.” She sobers up.

“I’m supposed to be getting over him, why are you so happy about this? Indifference, remember? It was you who brought it up.”

“Yes, but you can’t tell me it doesn’t look, I don’t know, like, you know!”

Once she’s a little less giddy, you finally tell her about last night – leaving out the bit where he droppped you home for the sake of the library and its inhabitants.

“I mean, I know we aplogised and everything, but I felt a little less… on fire around him. Other than those stupid studio lights, those were turning the place into a sauna. But I could meet his eyes without hyperventilating,” you explain, eyes downcast as you speak.

“I imagine his eyes were covered with that camera anyway, but progress, I guess,” Nayeon comments.

“Maybe I needed to get mad at him to feel better, I don’t know. But it feels like I’m making progress for the first time.”

“I told you this would be good for you, give it a couple more weeks and it’ll be like Mingyu never happened.”

It takes a conscious attempt to not scoff. Like Mingyu never happened to your heart. That’s a heart you can’t recognise.

The first time Seokmin had brought girls over was a day you couldn’t forget, no matter how hard you tried.

You were padding down to the kitchen, still bleary eyed and pyjama clad from your nap, making a beeline for the fridge to get a glass of water. Your trip is cut short, however, when you realised the living room was not as empty as you expected. It’s a crowd (to your eleven year old self, anyway) of people your brother’s age. You catch a couple familiar faces, friends of your brother who visited often, Mingyu is part of the lumps on the couch with them.

What stumped you, however, were the girls that were seated in between, eyes equally trained on you as everyone else in the room.

“Oh, who’s this Seok?” one of the girls asked.

“My little sister. D’you wanna say hi?” he asked you, neck craned to look at you.

“Uh. Hi,” you whisper, gulping.

There’s a chorus of hi’s that came bounding at you. You could feel the embarrassment creep up your entire body, feeling conscious for the first time in your life. They were staring at you. They were smiling, but you hated it.

You weren’t thinking as you turned around to sprint back upstairs, not missing the tinkle of laughs coming from the living room.

“Oh, she’s cute,” you had heard. That had you nearly starting to cry.

You’d be lying if you said your little crush on Mingyu hadn’t started blossoming for a while at that point. Being younger meant you were constantly fighting to be seen, even more so when you’d do anything for Mingyu to look at you. Hogging your brother’s bean bag until you were kicked out, putting sparkly clips in your hair before you went to the kitchen, laughing especially loud when you knew he could hear.

And yet, despite everything, for the very first time, you hated that Mingyu was looking at you, watching you idle and awkward while he sat next to a bunch of prettier, older girls.

That night was of many firsts, including the first time you had ever cried over Mingyu.

Mingyu claimed this was the last shoot, that he’d be done after this final set of shots.

You’re having a hard time though, because he’s decided his studio for the day was gonna be at the top of a mountain at the asscrack of dawn.

“We have fifteen minutes,” he announces.

“To live?” You heave, crouching on the gravel to give your body a break.

“Till sunrise,” he interjects, reversing to get to your crouched figure. You feel him grab hold of the straps of your bag, swinging it over his own shoulder. “Come on, just a little more.”

“You’ve been saying that for an hour.” You groan, picking yourself up off the path to resume your trudging. Mingyu stays next to you this time.

“Did you pack your entire house in here, the fuck is this so heavy for,” he grunts.

“You're the one asking for a bajillion outfit changes, I’m just doing what you asked.”

“One change of clothes and a compact doesn’t weigh this much, are you disposing a body up here?”

“Might be yours if I don't see that damn railing in a minute.”

“I think you're hungry,” he huffs out.

“I think I need to never agree to do this again.”

“Salavation!” he yelps as he sees a vending machine in the distance, quite literally glowing (with its fluorescent lights).

“I don’t need a water bottle, Mingyu, I need to lie down.” Your voice grows more gruff by the minute, legs nearly giving away.

“No, the vending machine means…” He bounds up the last couple leaps to the glowing box with a burst of motivation. The slope turns flat at the horizon. “We’re here.”

Nearly falling to your knees at the sight of the long awaited arrival point, you drop to a nearby bench and lay flat on the stiff wood.

“How long till I need to look presentable? Because if it’s anything under thirty minutes, I’m tapping out.” You declare.

“I can give you five minutes, take it or leave it.” He barely sits down as he speaks while already unzipping his camera bag. The thought of lifting your arms is excruciating, so you rest your tongue and bite back a whine.

By the time you do find it within yourself to swing your legs back over the bench, the sky is shifting to a smoky navy, urging you to hurry up as you dry your sweat. You’re cringing as you press powder on your unclean face, but power through the final touches as you stretch while standing up straight.

The first rays of sunlight are just coming through as Mingyu calibrates his lenses, trying to figure out the best shots in the limited time frame you have. You listen to him as he directs you where he wants you, contorting your face into something akin to faux serene. It’s near impossible when the frown has molded itself into your face after what you’ve put your body through today.

“Think happy thoughts.” Mingyu calls out from behind his camera.

“Oh, I’m thinking real happy thoughts. Like the ice cold shower I’m about to take when I get home. My clean bed that’s gonna be nice to me when I lay in it. The leftover pasta in the fridge. My moonpies.”

He has to bring his face away from the camera to throw his head back in a breathy laugh, smile as wide as it could go. It does things to you, but you ignore it.

The summit isn’t entirely empty, noting a few people leaning against the railings, rendering it mostly quiet. All the more jarring becomes Mingyu’s phone as it blares into the silence, causing the both of you to jump at the sudden sound.

He checks the caller ID only to silence it and slip it back into his pocket.

You don’t get to ask who it was calling him so early in the morning, but get your answer when he immediately announces he’s done with his shots. The sun is higher up at this point, casting a more even orange glow across all the eye could see.

You suppose he’s in a hurry to get home, seeing as he has someone waiting on him. “Should we leave then?”

He swings the camera strap around his neck, forearms on the railing as he admires the view. “Give it a couple more minutes, I need to mentally prepare myself for the next hour.”

It’s hard for you to deny that, so you let yourself place your head into your crossed arms over the railing, staring into the glow. It’s silent for a while as the rays hit your face, warming you more than you’d like. You don’t make any effort to move though, deciding to appreciate the view while it was here, doubting you’d ever make the trek up here again. Not willingly, at least.

There’s a camera shutter that goes off next to you and you find Mingyu fidgeting with his camera as he tries to begin packing it up. You would help, but you’ve found yourself refraining from touching anything when it comes to his actual camera setup, opting to watch as he disassembles his lenses and pushes buttons to power off.

By the time you're trudging down the path you’d come up from, it’s bright and sunny, rendering it warmer than before. Going down, however, is proving easier as you appreciate the reduced strain in your calves, letting the recent conversation take you to a smoother route.

“When d’you think your gonna be done editing?” You ask at some point, the thought occurring to you that you’d only seen a couple pictures that he’d taken so far, oweing to his disapproval showing you all the raws before editing.

“Kinda have to get them edited and annotated by the due date, so probably by the end of the month.”

“D’you think I could get the ones you edit?”

“Why? D’you wanna kickstart a portfolio?” he muses.

“I think it’s normal to ask for my pictures you took of me,” you grunt.

He laughs it off. “Yeah, yeah, I’ll send them over.”

Mingyu doesn’t drop you off home this time, both of you slipping into your own cars at the base of the hiking trail, bidding your goodbyes. You’d gotten an earful from Nayeon for getting your car back from the garage so quickly, and while sitting in a car with him wasn’t so bad anymore, you choose to retain that distance regardless. This was work, You’re doing this because you have to, and the stupid extra credit that roped you into this in the first place.

Alas, as you start your engine, eyes cast towards Mingyu’s number plate right up front, you can’t help but feel…sad… remembering this was your last shoot. As emotionally vexing the experience was, you had grown to look forward to his discreet location pins and outfit plans, growing more comfortable with him by the meeting.

It almost felt like you and Mingyu were friends.

Your brother’s graduation was an ordeal to say the least. Your parents flying in was a plus, getting to see them at least once for the summer, even if it was just for the day.

The night is wrapped up fairly quickly, a big dinner with yours and Mingyu’s family to congratulate the freed graduates from their academic shackles. It dials back when Mingyu announces he’s gonna take a summer course for now to keep himself busy, wanting to wait a little before job hunting. Seokmin seems to express the same, wanting some time off for himself before entering the corporate world.

It’s when you get home and your brother is sending you all the pictures of today that you note one that stands out. It was of you and Mingyu, an inevitable one as your parents took turns to make sure everybody got solo shots with everyone.

You’d applaud the enthusiasm, but it was particularly unfortunate for you when the camera was thrust into your hands as Mingyu and Jia posed for nearly fifty pictures. You wouldn’t mind usually, but it just felt like a little too much in the moment.

Despite everything, you find yourself clicking on the Save button on the picture where you’re smiling a little too wide right next to him, for the sake of yourself.

Summer break rolls around with no more hiccups, if you’d count finals as anything other than strenuous. You were happy, with a new job to keep you company for the next three months as you lament not being able to go home.

Getting the job at the bookstore was easy, your shifts were reasonable and it didn’t pay half bad. You would’ve guessed they were desperate for a hire, but you appreciate the activity regardless. It’s not really hard work, you find out quickly. Manning the desk, shelving deposits and restocking supplies. Monotonous tasks yet ones that you find yourself slipping into quite easily.

After the last shoot at the mountain, it was basically radio silence from Mingyu. Not being able to catch him the rare chance he stopped by the house, both of you swamped with the end of semester throw up. You doubt he’d noticed, and you despair at the fact that you did, even if it was just a little.

“Oh, great, you’re here!” The owner greets you as you walk into the store, all smiles. She was a sweet lady, nicer than any other boss you’d ever had. “Was just waiting for you so I could leave, my daughter has a play she’s putting on today!”

“Oh, sorry to keep you!” You rush to set your bag down as she picks up her own things, coming around from the table to take her leave. “Hope the recital goes well, tell her I said good luck.”

“Will do.” She smiles before adding, “Oh and, somebody called an hour ago asking about our book bundles, he said he’d come in to check but he hasn’t yet. Thought I’d let you know in case he asks about the phone call.”

“Got it,” you confirm, waving as she walks out the door, “I’ll see you tomorrow!”

Breathing out a sigh, you find yourself relatively free this afternoon, a slow weekday as you pick your current read out of your bag to get comfortable for the long shift. You’re nearly through the halfway point when you hear the first jingle of the day, the bells attached to the door making their familiar chime

“Good afternoon!” You look up to greet the customer, dog earring your book before standing up from your seat.

The person who’d walked in wasn’t just any customer, you soon realise as you recognise the familiar shag of hair. Mingyu was here.

“Oh.” You can’t help but let it out when you register him, his own eyebrows shooting up at the sight of you behind the counter. Your next greeting comes out a little dumbly. “Hi.”

“Hey. What’re you doing here?” he asks, eyebrows furrowed as he takes you in.

“Um,” you glance at your obvious name tag. “I work here.”

“Oh, right, Seok mentioned you started working at a bookstore.” He throws his head back at the memory. “Hey, was it you over the phone earlier today? Didn’t sound like it.”

“Oh no, that was my boss, my shift started like an hour ago.” You confirm.

“Ah, I see.”

The silence is awkward for about five seconds before you jump into action. “You asked about a bundle over the phone?”

“Right, um,” he pauses to fish his phone out his pocket, scrolling for something. “It’s Jia’s birthday coming up, and there’s this book series she’s been wanting. Here.”

You need to remind yourself to pat yourself on the back for not shaking as you received his phone, mind remaining in the moment. “Oh yeah, we have those. Let me grab ‘em for you.”

He follows you through the columns of shelves as you navigate to find what he was looking for, stopping in front of the shelves. “There’s three of these, I can put them in a sleeve for you. Probably put a bow on it too if you want.”

“Okay, perfect. Do you guys have LP’s too?” he asks.

“Uh, yeah. Hold on, let me put these up front.”

You lead him to the back of the store. “The selection’s pretty small, the first shipment only came in like a month ago. I’m not sure if you’ll find what you want here.”

“She’s been talking about getting more LP’s after she got a new record player. Hasn’t mentioned anything she wants though,” he voices, thumbing through the selection.

“What does she listen to normally?” You ask before quickly adding, “So I can, maybe, help pick something she’d like.”

“Uh, older stuff? I should’ve snooped before coming, fuck.” He mumbles, thinking hard. “She barely plays it when I’m around but most of her LP’s are like Frank Sinatra and…Duran Duran was it?”

“Hm…” You hum as you flick through the dated section of the stockpile, “How’s this?’

He’s taking a look at the record you’ve handed him, scanning the tracklists on the back. “I’ll get this, I guess. I can always bring her around to get more that she likes.”

“D’you want a bow on this?” You ask, referring to the books you’re putting into the set sleeve, “You can pick your colour.��

He’s quick to pick the lilac ribbon, watching you as you tape it prettily on the box. You’re trying to curl the ribbon at the ends when he tries to make conversation.

“When does your shift end?”

If the man wasn’t quite literally buying a birthday present for his girlfriend (or if you had any memory of your own birthday), you’d think he was trying to hit on you. But he’s not. You know that.

“Ten-ish. Closing’s on me so I could technically leave an hour early and no one would know.” You snort.

“Everyday?” he asks incredulously.

“Minus weekends, the family takes care of that. They just need someone for afternoons and evenings on the weekdays. It’s not like I’m taking summer classes or anything, and it’s easy work.”

“Well, you’ll be pleased to find out you’ll most likely be available on the 27th of August, then.” He sing songs as he fishes his phone out to pay, a cheeky air in his expression.

You blink at him in confusion, waiting for him to explain. “Was I supposed to get that?”

He pushes his shoulders back, content expression on his face as he continues. “There’s a cultural art exhibition in two months, and I, have just found out I’ve been shortlisted for a spot.”

“A spot? Like to display your photos?!” You drop the card machine with a thud.

“Your photos. Prof liked the project so much she submitted some of ‘em as entries. It was super short notice, but they liked them, I guess.” His grin is wide, one that you find impossible to not reciprocate. “I just need you to sign a consent form and I’ll be all set to start prepping.”

“That’s insane, Mingyu, congratulations!” You exclaim, genuinely excited. “Are you gonna be using the same pictures?”

“Yup, I just need to fix the editing with my prof before they go up. You’re the first to find out, I just got out of the meeting.”

There’s a mix of hesitation before you utter your next proposal, a split second of bewilderment at what you were about to suggest. “Come over tonight, we can celebrate with Seok. Bring Jia along too, we can celebrate an early birthday.”

“I’ll see, she might be taking a bus home tonight for the weekend, might have to bother you by myself.”

The ache in your cheeks didn’t stop until well after Mingyu had left with his cargo, the elated feeling remaining for even longer after the fact. There was a point where it took you convincing to rid yourself of another intrusive, uneasy feeling, like you were taking a step back by being happy at his announcement.

It was, however, safe to call Mingyu a friend. Safe to be happy for him. Safe to have your heart swell at his achievement, having watched him work hard for it.

It was safe to feel.

This was horrible.

Truly.

You were trying to ignore it, the strange thumping noises coming from under your car, like it would go away if you pretended to not hear. There was a sliver of hope for you, barely five minutes away from home that you’d make it before your tire decided it had enough of trying to grab your attention.

But then it started screeching, and you had to stop before you caused a road fire.

“Tire? Didn’t you get them changed like last month?” Seokmin asks over the phone.

“Didn’t know new tires were immune to industrial blades, too. Are you gonna tell me I got ripped off?”

“Mingyu has a scissor jack, I’ll tell him to come to you.”

“Wait! You have a scissor jack, too! Why can’t you come?” You sputter at the sound, glancing at the 21:42 on the dial.

“He has my scissor jack, he’ll change it for you.” He grits back. “Besides, I’m not letting this face pack go to waste I just put it on.”

“Seok!”

“Stay in the car, lock the doors till he gets there.” He grounds.

“Seokmin!”

Beep.

The bastard hung up.

“Ugh!” you break from a tightened jaw, slamming the car door shut with passion as you huff into your seat, waiting for Mingyu.

Was Mingyu busy at 10:30 PM on a weekday? He was, actually.

He’d scrambled to finish up the last of his meeting with his professor, wrapped up in planning for the exhibition despite the two month time frame he’d been given. Exhibitions were a lot of paperwork, as he was finding out as he sweet talks Jia over the phone, promising to be with her within the next five minutes. Well, ten maybe, he has to grab butter from the store.

She sits on the kitchen counter as Mingyu makes her favourite. A strenuous task, but he’s willing to go through the double frying to make up for the time he’s lost. It’s not until he’s doing the post dinner dishes while Jia’s picking a movie in the living room that he’s met with another dilemma to handle.

He’s deflating as he stands, phone to ear as he listens to Seokmin about your situation. Glancing at the near 10:30 PM hand on the clock, he finds it difficult to refuse, especially when he’s told you’re alone and stranded on a highway. He thinks to Jia in the living room as he tells Seokmin he’s leaving the house to get to you.

He’d only be gone for barely 20 minutes. He’s changed plenty of tires, this should be quick and easy.

Slipping into the living room is easy, wrapping his arms around Jia from behind is even easier. It’s when he has to open his mouth that he begins to falter. Twenty minutes, he reminds himself.

“I have two I’ve heard are really good, you can pick which one we watch first,” she voices as she fluffs the pillows on the couch, ready to tuck in for the rest of the night.

“Babe?”

She spins around in his arms, coming up to fluff his flat hair too. “Hm?”

“Seok just called…”

Her face falls as he talks despite his best attempts to assure her he won’t be long.

“Twenty minutes?” she parrots, wanting his word.

“Fifteen.”

Whether Mingyu would keep his word is something he’d find out, but you had kept your word to Seokmin, staying in the car, doors locked till you saw Mingyu’s car pull up behind you in the rearview. The wretched scissor jack that’s caused all of this sits in his own boot as he yanks it out to bring it over to your car, where you stand arms crossed, face dejected.

“Were you waiting long?” He asks as he immediately crouches to fit the jack where he wants it.

“No, not really,” you reply. “I’m sorry you had to come all the way out here, if only Seok remembered to take the stupid scissor jack–”

“No, no, it’s okay. I wasn’t doing anything.” Lies. But you already sounded apologetic and he didn’t wanna hear you apologize any further.

“No, it’s not okay. The idiot’s relaxing with a stupid face mask on while you have to come out here and change a fucking tire, God, you have class tomorrow too, don’t you?”

“Not until the afternoon, I’m in the clear.” He springs up from his crouched position, pulling the jack with him. “Open the boot.”

Placing the scissor jack in your boot, he continues, a little breathless. “There, I’ll tell Seokmin I left it in your car. Or, you could do that.”

“Thanks, Mingyu. Really.”

He does nothing but flash a smile, doing his best to convince you you weren’t an inconvenience before having to see your apologetic face again. “Alright, I wanna see you drive off before I leave, go on.”

By the time Mingyu’s slamming the door of the house shut, it’s eighteen minutes on the dot. Jia doesn’t say much, excited to have him back in her arms.

“Wait!” he suddenly yelps, once he’s tucked in with her.

“What now?” she groans.

Mingyu’s bounding back to his bedroom, emerging a few moments later with a dark paper bag. He goes back to sit next to her on the couch, sliding the bag and its contents towards her.

“Here. We’re not gonna be together for your birthday, might as well give you your present the night before you leave.” His eyes are glinting, hopeful.

Jia expresses her thank you’s commenting on the ribbon and his LP choice, grinning widely.

Your name comes tumbling out of Mingyu’s mouth before he can stop himself. “She helped me pick it out!”

“You…took her with you?” She asks after a moment.

“She worked at the store! I didn’t know till I went there either.” Mingyu’s voice grows increasingly enthusiastic, seemingly unaware that his girlfriend was growing slightly irritated. “I’ll take you there when you get back, the selection’s small but she’ll probably help you pick out something you’d like. I only had to give her like two names before she figured it out.”

“Oh, that’s nice,” she comments, tight smile on her lips as she collects the book sleeve and the LP, placing them back into the bag and leaving them on the floor next to her.

Mingyu is blissfully unaware of the fuel he’s added to growing embers, munching away on his popcorn, eyes trained on the TV and its stimulating colours.

“I was talking to Jihyo the other day, super random but it came up while we were talking about you,” Jia starts experimentally.

“Huh?” He has her attention. And when she mentions your name, the part of him that’s always wondered when she’d bring it up comes out of dormancy.

“She said she…I don’t know, she said she liked you at some point, Like a lot, and for a while.” Jia sounds unsure, like she didn’t know if it was a good idea to bring you up.

Mingyu sighs as he rears himself for the inevitable conversation. “It’s—well, it was—just puppy love. I was around all the time and I guess she latched, I don’t know.”

Jia pauses, eyes remanging trained on the movie. “Does it make you uncomfy? That she liked you? Maybe she still does.”

“It doesn’t matter, does it? I’m around Seok which means I’m sometimes around her by default. Can’t help it. I mean, the photography thing kinda just happened but, I don’t really care. And she seems over it.”

Mingyu is rambling. He can feel it. Which is why he tries to end the conversation right there, tone nonchalant as he hopes the topic breezes past.

It doesn’t.

“You seemed pretty adamant in leaving, though.”

“Huh?”

“When she called just now.”

“Seok called, I had his scissor jack!”

“Why couldn’t he have grabbed it for you and helped his sister himself? He has a car too.” Jia’s paused the movie at this point, moving away from his arm she was leaning on, shifting to look at him fully.

“It would’ve taken him forever, she was alone in the middle of a highway at nearly eleven, you wanted me to leave her there?” Mingyu finds the conversation ridiculous, and it shows in the irritation that rises in his own voice.

“Mingyu, you can’t be upset with me right now,” she breathes out exasperated.

“I’m not? I get that you’re upset, I haven’t been around as much but you also know what this exhibition means to me. I need to put everything I have into this and it’s only for a couple months–”

“Mingyu, it’s not just the exhibition!”

“Jia, I can’t know if you don’t tell me what’s really bothering you, talk to me.” Mingyu’s begging at this point, wondering how it’s come to this in the first place.

“You can’t expect me to be okay with you going around wherever, whenever, when I know what kind of lifestyle you’ve come out of not even six months ago!”

Mingyu had come a long way from his galvanizing tendencies, doing absolutely everything he could to convince Jia he was serious about her. Unfortunately, this was not the first time his past had been brought up; in an argument or in a light hearted setting, and he wasn’t particularly fond of it.

“Are we in six months ago? Are you saying I’ve done nothing substantial for you to think I’m still fucking around? Either give me an instance or figure out what the real issue is!”

There’s a plaster of suffocation in the room, neither soul speaking a word. Until Jia finally speaks. “I wanna go home.”

It didn’t matter to Mingyu if she was expecting him to grovel, to ask her to stay and talk about this further. It was clear she wasn’t about to talk about anything pertinent at all, and definitely not tonight. He was tired, and frankly wanted to be alone right now.

“Fine.”

Silence penetrates all of his air for the entire car ride up until he’s entering his apartment for the third time that day. Not bothering to clean up the living room, he thinks he does himself a service so as to not be reminded of the past couple hours. He’s casting the place in complete darkness before moving to his room. Might as well get some work done.

There’s a conscious effort to not start slamming things, he succeeds mostly, his graphic tablet receiving the short end of the stick. Turning on his monitor, he’s met with his ongoing project still brought up on the screen.

It’s a picture of you. One he took in a greenhouse off the outskirts of the city, something you complained about extensively as the heat ruined both your mood and your hair. You were smiling regardless; a wide, happy smile as you looked into the camera, petunia’s and dahlia’s framing an illusion around your figure.

Mingyu feels the tension in his muscles begin to relax, his breathing evening out after what felt like hours. He becomes almost excited to pick up his stylus and work on the photo, the set up allowing him to dive right in. There was barely any work left, moving on as he finishes the photo and saves it.

It isn’t until he happens to click on the the last folder, the one where you both caught the sunrise after a strenuous hike. He can’t help but break into a hint of a smile at the memory of your broken figure at the pathway, cursing him for bringing you here so early in the morning. The pictures had come out good, especially when Mingyu opens a particular photo at the bottom of the folder, an extra from his initial round of editing for his actual project.

It’s of you (of course) with your chin tucked into your arms as you gaze at the scene from up above, beyond the railing. The sun is up higher at that point, but the cast remains as the top half of your face that wasn’t tucked in your arms is lit in an orange glow, eyes glistening like stars during the day, wide and beautiful.

Mingyu remembers the shot. It was an accident.

In an attempt to fiddle with the settings to turn off the camera, he ended up snapping a picture instead. The distinct click was noticed, never bothering to check what came out of it when he stuffed his camera back into his bag, nor when he sifted through his SD card.

It was like he was seeing the picture in a new light, and the potential it had to become something worth ogling at. He wonders what had come over him when he had placed the photo as a secondary option without another thought, lamenting at what could’ve been his actual final piece.

He stares and stares, attempting to draw maps of color rendering in his mind, yet all that comes up is his eyes zeroing in on your own. How they glisten. How they sparkle.

Part 2

#mingyu #mingyu fluff #mingyu smut #mingyu fic #mingyu imagines #mingyu scenarios #mingyu angst #seventeen #seventeen fluff #seventeen smut #seventeen angst #seventeen x reader #seventeen scenarios #seventeen fic #seventeen imagines #svt #svt fluff #svt angst #svt smut

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akutasoda · 4 months ago

Text

hold my hand, lean on me

synopsis - jiaoqiu adjusting to domestic life with you

includes - jiaoqiu

warnings - gn!reader, spoilers for 2.5, angst w/ some comfort, fluff, maybe ooc, wc - 1.3k

a/n: i actually cannot get this darn foxian out my mind :( shouts to @thelightofmylife for some vv helpful pointers and information ^^ tbh i feel like this is just 1.3k words of word vomit HAHA

the healers finished informing you of the situation, thanking them you then closed the door to the shared abode. a sigh you didn't know you were holding back escaped alongside a glance down to the papers the healer's handed over. you could read them later, the news followed by the details of it wasn't exactly a pleasant thought, if anything it might be a final push for the tears to start falling.

your thoughts were distracted by the sound of hesitant, shuffling footsteps. turning around, you were met with the sight of jiaoqiu standing idly not too far from you - almost as if he was taking in the surroundings, although now it was more him trying to piece together the memories of what it looked like.

jiaoqiu had arrived back at the yaoqing not too long ago, admittedly rather late, but the luofu's alchemy commission had kept him for a while. he'd been forced immediately to the yaoqing’s alchemy commission as they were now the ones responsible for his treatment plan for the future. a short talk with them had then led to him being escorted back home. to you.

upon arrival, some of the alchemy commission healers explained to you about the entire situation. they kept it short but soon handed you a full document containing everything from “patient’s injuries” to “doctor’s post-charge advice” - each and every sentence pained you more and more, you refused to acknowledge what would've happened if moze hadn't found him, you would have to thank him later.

the healers had asked you to take upon the responsibility of looking after him at home, and in most day to day life scenarios - at least until he adjusted properly. they asked you to keep strict to the “post-charge advice” as otherwise it probably would cause more harm to him, making his healing process longer and maybe even worsening it beyond healing.

“jiao-ge” you called out, to let him know that you were still near. it pained to see the somber look on his face. the last thing jiaoqiu saw wasn't anyone, anywhere or anything he loved. no. it was something he hated, someone he loathed in unfamiliar territory surrounded by no-one he knew.

now he stood in familiar territory, with the person he loved the most. but he couldn't bask in the sights or even see you. all he had was memories to cast images in his mind, to help pretend that nothing was wrong and that he could see what he remembered.

you knew that he wouldn't want you doting on him. jiaoqiu needed to adjust, to learn how to go about his life as usual and you overly fussing over him would only probably annoy him and prolong that.

it had been a long day, any proper conversations could be held tomorrow. to no surprise, jiaoqiu insisted he could get ready and do everything by himself. you granted him that independence. eventually, admittedly with some help, you two were ready for sleep. and even though you were right there beside him, jiaoqiu never felt further from you.

---✩

the process was slow. nobody would've said that it was going to be anything other than that. jiaoqiu very clearly wanted independence. he didn't want to seen as a burden, he chose to do this, and knowing that people were constantly doting on him instead of continuing with their lives made him feel awful.

one of the first things you did was help make your shared abode more compatible with his needs. an easy step was making sure that everywhere was clean and free of obstruction, normally moze always

showed up and helped with cleaning as well. another step was helping jiaoqiu become able to navigate the home on his own, mainly he acted on memory but you needed to make sure that where he frequented was always obstruction free.

occasionally you could hear a bump or hurried shuffling from the room over, each and every time you dropped what you were doing and checked up on him. it was never anything major and if anything it always resulted in jiaoqiu silently cursing at the piece of furniture he walked into.

you two always adopted a verbal calling system at home. should you need to leave the room he was in, you would tell him exactly where you were going and what you were doing - that way he knew where you were. jiaoqiu would also inform you of where he planned on going just in case something happened or he got lost.

although, admittedly, for the first couple of weeks jiaoqiu stuck to you like glue. to him, it was a way to quickly adjust and therefore he wouldn't have to be a burden for long. however jiaoqiu subsequently had developed a rather interesting habit, one neither of you addressed - you because you thought it was sweet and didn't want to embarrass him, him because he didn't want to admit it.

and that was him using his tail as a guidance. at home, it was either curled around your waist, wrist or leg. in public, it lingered around your wrist, so much so that it constantly tickled you. it was a way of him making sure you were there with him, you hadn't left him and he was okay.

although most admittedly it was worse at night. he would hold you close, an ironclad grip that usually you would ask for him to let up but you knew he needed this. tail curled around your waist, preventing you from escaping. in his opinion, you helped him sleep easier, much easier than any fragrances he was prescribed.

however, this always came with a risk. due to residual lupitoxin still in his body, jiaoqiu became frequently prone to nightmares which plagued him constantly. everytime his mind was tricked into believing that the borisin were waiting, patiently looking for an opening to get revenge.

he wakes up because of them, drenched in fear and swear, and because he's so fearful the lupitoxin can take hold easier. suddenly he's tricked into believing that the borisin have found him. unbeknownst to the fact that it's you. so you sometimes take the liberty of sleeping away from him, but then he wakes up to an empty bead but he can hear someone in the room over and when he finds out it was you, sleeping away from him, he becomes consumed with guilt.

a major change for him was his inability to cook anymore. jiaoqiu was determined to do so with his impairment but he needed to learn. nowadays you cook with him. instead of being hushed out of the kitchen, you stood closely beside him, handing him the tools he needed, telling him where you put them so he could find them again on his own.

gently reminding him to lay off the spices when he requested more, he was to avoid spicy foods at all costs for the time being. a hard change, one that he absolutely despised but he knew better than to go against a doctor's order. helping him go out and buy ingredients, listening to what he told you and carrying out the tasks diligently.

---✩

and that was a shortlist of changes. you were very happy to accommodate anything for him, so long as he felt comfortable and loved. it wasn't uncommon for jiaoqiu to experience major lows, it was only natural and you needed to be there for him.

to listen to him, to show him that the support he needed was always a simple ask away - you didn't want to push to dote on him for many reasons. but that was different to showing genuine care and love to him when he started seeing himself as a useless, dependent person.

life would be different. for a while or maybe even forever, perhaps feixiao would strike lucky in her search for a healer that knew how to help. but for now, you two would have to learn how to adjust. to be there for eachother.

taglist - @little-miss-chaoss, @frankiesteinn

#—stellaronhvnters.#x reader #x gender neutral reader #honkai star rail x reader #hsr x reader #honkai star rail x gender neutral reader #hsr x gender neutral reader #honkai star rail x you #hsr x you #jiaoqiu x reader #jiaoqiu x you #hsr jiaoqiu #honkai star rail jiaoqiu

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pomegranatesarchive · 7 months ago

Text

locked in a closet | oscar piastri

pairing: oscar piastri x landos bestfriend!reader

summary: lando norris locks his two bestfriends in a broom closet in hopes that they’ll stop hating each other.

liked by, oscarpiastri, yourusername, and 438,626 others!

lando.jpg: how can i get my bestfriends to stop hating each other?

view comments below!

oscarpiastri: you can’t.

lando.jpg: ☹️

oscarpiastri: you can pout all you want. We will never get along.

lando.jpg: why must you break my heart 💔

user1: it’s been a whole year lando…i don’t think they’ll ever get along

user2: NEVER SAY NEVER

user3: oscar this, lando that, can we talk about how good y/n looks?? 🙄

yourusername: THANK YOU!! nobody appreciates my beauty anymore 😒😒

oscarpiastri: what beauty?

yourusername: die?

user4: LMAOO

yourusername: maybe if, he who should not be named, wasn’t so annoying, we could actually get along!

oscarpiastri: i’m not fucking voldemort you can say my name

yourusername: o-os🤮c-ca🤮🤮🤮🤮 no i just can’t.

oscarpiastri: oh and i’m the annoying one??

yourusername: yeah! you are!

oscarpiastri: @/lando.jpg control her.

lando.jpg: guy please, can’t we all just get along 😞😞

yourusername: how would getting along with he who should not be named, benefit me??

lando.jpg: it would make me really really happy 😁😁

yourusername: i couldnt give less of a shit about your happiness lando

oscarpiastri: see? She’s a horrible friend, me on the on the hand would never be so mean to you.

yourusername: you told lando he looks like big bird two days ago?

user5: for two people who hate each other, they sure do talk a lot…

danielricciardo: why do they even hate each other so much? 🙄🙄

lando.jpg: oscar spilled his drink on y/n the first time they met. he refused to apologize. she refused to forgive him.

yourusername: you forgot to mention that my shirt was $300 😐😐

oscarpiastri: FIRST OFF who in their right mind buys a 300 HUNDRED DOLLAR SHIRT???!?!? and SECOND OFF, IT WAS AN ACCIDENT!!! I refuse to apologize for something that wasn’t on purpose.

yourusername: this is why your mom loves me more.

oscarpiastri: she does NOT.

nicolepiastri: …

oscarpiastri: MUM????

yourusername: i know that’s right.

user6: oscar and y/n would be so cute together if they stopped being so IMMATURE

user7: they should just #kissandmakeup

user8: me patiently waiting for the enemies to lovers 🧍‍♀️

user9: you’re going to be waiting a LONG time…

charles_leclerc: i think it’s time to give up on the idea them being friends mate 😢

lando.jpg: I SAY WHEN ITS TIME

user10: charles is just sick of getting caught in the crossfire 😭

user11: OMG IM NOT THE ONLY ONCE WHO NOTICES THAT ???😭😭😭

user10: NOO I DID TOOO!! it’s like every time oscar and y/n are having a glare-off charles somehow ends up right in between them

user11: AND THEN HE JUST STANDS THERE LIKE 🧍‍♂️

maxverstappen1: just lock them in a room and let them fight it out 🤷

lando.jpg: wait a damn minute…

yourusername: LANDO NO.

oscarpiastri: absolutely not.

— y/n has posted new photos!

liked by, charles_leclerc, maxverstappen1, alex_albon, and 502,528 others!

yourusername: p2, and now movie night in max’s movie theater <33

view comments below!

user12: cutting oscar out of the photo is DIABOLICAL WORK 😭😭

user13: oh to be y/n l/n :((

user14: y/n is literally living the DREAM

user15: the way y/n made SURE you could see that she cut oscar out of the photo

yourusername; i have no idea what you’re talking about ?? 😓😓

oscarpiastri: get off your phone and watch the movie 🙄

yourusername: stop staring and me and watch the movie 🙄

user16: clock it y/n!!!!!

landonorris: did you really have to crop out oscar?

yourusername: yes!

user17: landos trying so hard 😞

user18: they’re all having a movie night 😞😞😞 ??

user19: I SHOULD BE THERE 💔💔💔💔💔

maxverstappen1: this movie is so funny!!

yourusername: it’s brokeback mountain?

maxverstappen1: and it’s hilarious! 😂

user20: MAX WATCHING BROKEBACK MOUTAIN ??!?!??

user21: max thinking brokeback mountain is funny is so him??

charles_leclerc: this movie is so sad 💔💔💔

yourusername: yeah charles we all see you crying :(

user22: charles crying over brokeback mountain is SO HIM!!

user23: is everyone just in there phones during the movie?? 😭😭

oscarpiastri: nope! just she who should not be named 🤷

yourusername: the unoriginality is disgusting!!

maxverstappen1: i’m going to, as the kids say, expose everyone. @/oscarpiastri has not stoped staring at y/n all night.

maxverstappen1: @/yourusername hasn’t stopped staring at a photo oscar on her phone.

this comment has been deleted.

maxverstappen1: @/landonorris has eaten 2 whole pizzas.

maxverstappen1: @/charles_leclerc is crying like a baby.

maxverstappen1: @/danielricciardo keeps awkwardly laughing at the worst moments.

maxverstappen1: @/georgerussell63 keeps taking photos of his abs

maxverstappen1: @/lewishamiliton is secretly wiping away his tears

maxverstappen1: @/alex_albon has been whining about missing ‘his lily’ all night

maxverstappen1: @/carlossainz has gotten up to pee 10 times in the past HOUR

maxverstappen1: and @/logansargent has been hugging a teddy bear for the past 2 hours.

maxverstappen1: that’s what you ALL GET for not having MOVIE THEATER ETIQUETTE AND BEING ON YOUR PHONES.

yourusername: damn okay….

alex_albon: can you go get me my jacket in the closet? i’m kinda cold 🥶🥶

yourusername: yeah sure? 😭

user24: something’s brewing..i can feel it.

landonorris: @/oscarpiastri can you go get me my beanie in the closet? my ears are cold

oscarpiastri: yeah sure

— 3 minutes later!

— 7 minutes later!

— 2 hours later!

— y/n has posted new pictures!

liked by, oscarpiastri, landonorris, maxverstappen1, georgerussell63, and 629,628 others!

yn.jpg: max’s door didn’t stand a chance against MY muscles 💪(ft, jimmy the cat♡♡)

view comments below!

user25: oscar in the likes?????

user26: wait a minute…

maxverstappen1: don’t worry i won’t make you pay for it 😚

yourusername: you locked me in a room with oscar. i wasn’t paying either way.

maxverstappen1: FINE. 😒😒😒

user27: did she just…say oscar name?

user28: in the whole YEAR oscar and y/n have known each other, y/n has NEVER said his name WHAT THE FUCK IS GOING ON

user29: something happened in that closet

landonorris: hello, i am lando norris, and i would like to publicly apologize for locking my dear friends (especially yn) in a closet. it was stupid and inappropriate of me. i hope to gain back their forgiveness.

user30: did y/n make you do this?

landonorris: no… (yes pls help she’s locked me in my room and won’t let me out)

yourusername; i’ll let you out once you’ve learned your lesson.

oscarpiastri: nice kitty.

yourusername: thanks!

georgerussell63: um, what the fuck is this?

charles_leclerc: maybe management took over oscar’s account?

oscarpiatari: no? it’s me?

charles_leclerc: oh! then what the fuck is this?

user31: something DEFINITELY happened in that closet. why are oscar and y/n actually being civil????

landonorris: i don’t know but it’s scary.

yourusername: do i have to confiscate your phone too?

landonorris: no! Sorry i’m learning my lesson 😞

carlossainz: hahaha 😂lando is such a loser

yourusername: do i have to take your phone to carlos? 🤨

carlossainz: NO, no i’m sorry 😔

user32: is it finally happening?…the enemies to lovers we all wanted 💔💔

user33: your telling me landos plan actually worked and y/n and oscar are being civil now ??

user34: dare i say…oscar and y/n would be a cute couple

danielricciardo: why are you and piastri being cool with each other?

yourusername: isn’t this what you all wanted??

danielricciardo: yeah…i guess we did…didn’t we?

landonorris: I KNEW IT WOULD WORK!!

yourusername: you’re still in trouble, come give me your phone.

landonorris: okay 😞

— oscarpiastri has posted new photos!

liked by yourusername, landonorris, maxverstappen1, and 727,918 others!

oscarpiastri: second date, kinda nervous. (she taught me that)

view comments below!

landonorris: second date and already making it instagram official? You’re so whipped 😒

oscarpiastri: didn’t you want us to get along better?

landonorris: yeah, GET ALONG, not GET TOGETHER 😒😒

user35: GET TOGETHER??? EXCUSE MEEEE

user36: THE ENEMIES TO LOVERS!!! IT HAPPNED IT FUCKING HAPPENED. FUCK EVEYONE WHO TOLD ME I WAS DELUSIONAL FOR SAYING THIS WOULD HAPPEN. GUESS WHO WAS RIGHT?? ME! I WAS!

user37: did i just step into a parallel universe where y/n and oscar are dating? because what the actual fuck is going on

maxverstappen1: 😨.

user38: SEE!! EVEN MAX IS ASTONISHED

user39; the period after the emoji is KILLING ME 😭😭

georgerussell63: Is that Y/n????? @/charles_leclerc

charles_leclerc: no? it can’t be?

yourusername: it is

charles_leclerc: AHHHHHHH

georgerussell63: AHHHHHHHH

user39: we did it ladies and gentlemen…after one whole year, the enimies to lovers has finally happened 🥲🥲🥲

landonorris: WE??? NAH BABY ME!! ALL ME!!

yourusername: heart heart

maxverstappen1: 🤨

lewishamilton: 🤨

georgerussell63: 🤨

landonorris: 🤨

logansargent: 🤨

charles_leclerc: 🤨

schecoperez: 🤨

danielricciardo: 🤨

carlossainz: 🤨

yukitsunoda0511: 🤨

fernadoalonso: 🤨

totowolff: 🤨

mclaren: 🤨

yourusername: OMG HE BOUGHT ME A REPLICA OF THE SHIRT HE RUINED, I FORGAVE HIM OKAY???

user40: only the seconds date and he’s already posting her?? oh he’s obsessed.

oscarpiastri: well, yes!

user41: 3 days ago they hated each other so much??? what happened???

yourusername: i’m a really good kisser

user42: DO YOU GUYS TGINK THEY KISSED IN THE CLOSET???

user43: maybe we do have lando to thank…

. . .

notes: one of the longest smau’s i’ve done! reminder that comments and reblogs are so greatly appreciated <33

#oscar piastri x reader #oscar piastri social media au #oscar piastri smau #oscar piastri x y/n #oscar piastri fanfic #oscar piastri x you #oscar piastri f1 #oscar piastri #f1 x reader #f1 fanfic #f1 fic #f1 imagine #f1 x y/n #f1 social media au #f1 x female reader #f1 x you #oscar piastri imagine #oscar piastri fluff

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mattybsgroupie · 5 months ago

Text

birthday | matt sturniolo

contents: established relationship; oral (f receiving); praising; degradation; restraining; p in v; creampie; use of “y/n”; dom!matt

- ♡ -

notes: good evening my loves! i hope we’re still celebrating matt’s birthday around here cause i only got the motivation to write after receiving this request and i’m finally feeling better so expect many fics coming. yes i am doing a lot of dom!matt but i promise i’ll go back to my sub!matt agenda after posting part 2 of secret (yes, with that thing y’all asked for). thank you for being so patient with me and for all the love, you guys are the best. not proofread as usual, please excuse any mistakes! enjoy <3

requested by: the sweetest @ivammbb! this request made me so happy and i really hope you enjoy it sweetheart!

- ♡ -

“i already said no y/n, stop trying” matt hissed as my digits ran through the veins of his neck, going upwards to caress his beard. i really was trying my best — we couldn’t celebrate his birthday properly, and now matt insisted he didn’t want anything. i pouted at him, pretending to be upset that he was punishing me.

“stop” he said again, this time in a softer tone. i knew he wasn’t actually mad, he just wanted to see me suffer a little bit. “you know i can’t resist when you pout like that” he grabbed my jaw with his long fingers, tilting my chin up so i’d look at his blue eyes. matt smirked as i parted my lips, my breath getting heavier with the thought of him holding my neck with the same pressure he’d kept my jaw locked.

“you wanna make up for it? for being a brat and not giving me a birthday gift?” i nodded eagerly, adjusting myself on his lap. matt closed his eyes for a second with the sudden movement of my ass over his covered cock, which i could feel becoming harder under me.

“fucking behave” he said while placing his thumb at my lower lip, playing with the flesh before intruding my mouth, resting his finger against my tongue, expecting me to start sucking.

i latched my lips around his knuckle, swirling my tongue the same way i used to do with his dick. matt brought his index near my lips, exchanging the fingers inside and pushing it deeper down my throat. i wanted to be good. i needed to be good for him, to show him how guilty i felt for not celebrating his birthday on time.

“atta girl” matt praised, sending a shiver down my spine as he tucked a strand of hair behind my ear, letting me rest my cheek against his free palm. “are you gonna be good for me?”

“yes” i mumbled, touching his wrist, silently asking for permission to remove him from my mouth. i guided matt’s hand to my breasts, allowing him to cup my titties as i leaned forward, brushing my lips against his.

matt took my lips to himself in a hungry, passionate kiss, full of longing and desire. his hand quickly slipped under my t-shirt, dragging his large palm along my tummy, tracing its way up to my bra, which he attempted to unhook several times.

“don't you wanna take a look at it first?” i asked in the midst of our kiss, tugging at the hem of my t-shirt and teasing him. matt rested his hands on my thighs again, eventually stroking my hips and trying not to press too hard, unwilling to let out the desperation that the twitching cock under me revealed.

i took my top off, showing him my new lingerie — one i had bought just for him, for his birthday. his eyes widened for a second before giving me a naughty smirk, admiring the pink pattern of the fabric and the ruffles that adorned my breasts. “you look so pretty”, he whispered, biting my earlobe.

“there's more”, i said as i wrapped my forearms around his neck, moving closer to his chest. he slid his fingers into my shorts, squeezing my ass and playing with the fabric of my panties.

i careful lifted my ass up, granting him access to remove my shorts before pressing my weight down on him again. i was only wearing the lingerie set now, feeling confident that he had enjoyed the surprise. my panties also had a bow that matched the details of my bra and matt rapidly changed his expression when he noticed that my underwear was already soaked.

“how long have you been planning that, hm?” he asked while sealing his lips on my bare skin. i already knew that i wouldn't be able to celebrate his birthday on time, so i had been saving this set for a special occasion. “naughty girl” he didn't need the answer. he was aware i had spent way longer than i should have.

“you still need to be punished, baby” matt said, stopping the kisses on my neck and looking at me with faux sympathy. i denied it with my head once again, matt clicking his tongue on the roof of his mouth in disapproval. “yes, don't be a brat. even though you look beautiful right now, you were a bad fucking girl to me”. fuck, i loved when he talked like that.

matt flipped our bodies, getting on top of me, leaving me completely at the mercy of his will. he was still fully dressed, not caring about how much his drooling cock marked his pants, the pre-cum stain appearing on the grey sweater.

his digits traced my body, gently caressing my thighs before resting his face on my hipbone, giving kisses that soon turned into love bites. matt moved to the insides of my flesh, making a hickey that only he would be able to see later. i desperately brought my fingers to his brown locks, silently pleading for some attention on the part he hadn't even gotten close to.

matt stuck out his tongue, giving a long lick over the wet patch on my panties. i could see him smirking as soon as my fingers tangled in his strands, pushing his head down to stay in place and finally eat me out.

“i'm not taking it off babe” he said, cutting my expectations but soon raising his index, pulling the seams of my panties aside, exposing my swollen pussy. “look so pretty like that, my good little slut” his words made me hold back a moan and shift my hips downwards, begging for a bit of friction.

matt adjusted his position between my legs, still pulling my underwear aside and holding my hips with both hands before bringing his face closer to my clit. he let out a thick string of saliva fall down from his lips, spitting against my heated clit before sucking on my lower lips, rolling his tongue through my wet folds. as my legs began twitching, matt focused his attention on my clit, swirling his tongue around it and sucking harder.

“stop squirming around” he muffled, sending a wave of vibrations through my pussy, making my hips buck upwards as the knot in my lower belly started to get tighter. “fucking whore, can't even control yourself?”

“‘m s-sorry! fuck!” i whimpered, trying my best to stay in place. matt clicked his tongue on the roof of his mouth once again, disapproving my behavior. he gave one last lick on my folds, gradually removing himself from my heat and making me groan from the lack of stimulation.

“on fours. now.” he demanded and i crossed my legs, bringing my foot to my ankle and caressing it, teasing him. “you wanna play so fucking much?” matt hissed, standing up on the bed with both knees and reaching for something in the first drawer of the nightstand. “i'll tell you one more time, y/n. turn over”

“what if i don't?” i didn't even notice that the words had slipped out of my mouth, startling myself when matt revealed a silk ribbon that we only had used a few times, usually to blindfold each other on sexier nights.

i thought that was about to happen, he’d blindfold me and fuck me relentlessly. instead, he grabbed my thighs and flipped me over on the bed, pressing my chest against the mattress, forcing my back down so my ass would remain up. he gave me a hard slap, causing me to moan as i felt the warm tingle of his palm making my blood rush.

“you're such a slut” matt said, and even though i couldn't fully see him anymore, i knew he had a wide grin on his face. still standing on his knees, matt hovered over my body, taking one of my hands and placing it on my lower back. i whined, realizing that he was about to tie me up and restrain my movements.

he reached for my other arm and pulled it together with the previous one, gathering my wrists and quickly tying them with the pink silk ribbon that matched my lingerie. matt didn't tie it too tightly — i knew he wouldn't hurt me — but the feeling of giving him total control of my body made my pussy clench again, my juices dripping through the cloth.

“didn’t even wanna take this pretty little thing off” he talked about my panties as he touched my waistband, gently allowing it to slide down my thighs. he squeezed my ass once again, spreading my asscheeks apart as he took his cock out of his pants, guiding it near my pussy.

matt brushed his shaft against my entrance, and dragged his dick along my folds, pushing its throbbing tip on my clit before returning to my hole. “don't wanna hear a word, alright?” he warned me, starting to bury himself inside of me.

i couldn't stop a groan from rising in the back of my throat as he entered me completely. matt was huge and he didn't give me time to adjust to his size, bucking his hips forward, one hand gripping my arms back while the other supported my body so i wouldn't fall on the sheets beneath us. nevertheless, his moves were smooth and steady, not wanting to cum too fast after being away for too long.

“matt, mhm-” i attempted to speak, receiving a deep thrust of his length, making me squeeze my eyes shut as my wrists frantically struggled to be freed from his grip, which only got tighter. “please!” i managed to cry out, pushing my hips back, receiving a moan from him.

“y/n, fuck” he grunted, lowering his body closer to mine, almost gluing his chest to my back. matt started to kiss my shoulders and every piece of flesh his lips could reach, his pace now becoming faster and sloppier, not being able to keep a proper rhythm as my walls clenched against his drooling cock.

“cum-” i panted, “wanna cum, please”

“you think” matt started “you deserve” he continued, bucking his hips forward as he spoke, “to cum?” i couldn't form a single sentence anymore, my mind becoming foggy as i tried to hold my approaching orgasm.

my legs had no strength left and i knew the only reason i was standing was because his large hand held me up. “can’t even speak?” i denied with my head, my parted lips letting out loud cries.

“cum for me” he demanded and i thanked him mindlessly as my orgasm crashed down on me, the waves of pleasure causing my body to tremble and bounce on his cock, also leading matt to his climax, cumming long, thick spurts inside of me.

“that’s it princess, making a mess on my cock like the good slut you aren” his dick twitched as his release filled me up, a few last truths to help him finish off.

matt slowly pulled out, making me whine as i felt the mixture of both of our releases dripping down my thighs. he chuckled at the scene, finally letting go of my wrists and allowing me to rest. matt lied down next to me, his hand caressing my body as we both took deep breaths, slowly coming back to our senses.

“happy belated birthday baby” i whispered, receiving a giggle from him as he moved closer to me, opening his arms so i would snuggle into his chest.

“you’re the best gift i could ask for” he said, kissing the top of my head and smiling, finally forgiving me for not being there on his birthday.

- ♡ -

taglist (drop a 🌸!): @thepubeburgler @submattenthusiast @pearlzier @mattsfavbitchhh @her-favorite @bugeyedgrl @mattslittlecumsslut @sturncakez @riowritesitall @joemamaaa42069 @mattsturnswife @sturnsmia @sturnthepot @mattscoquette @sturniolofandomthings @conspiracy-ash @ilovemattsturn @lizzymacdonald06 @sofieeeeex @blahbel668 @fratbrochrisgf @bagsbyclair0 @sturnobsessedwh0re @cayleeuhithinknot @sturniolo04 @1c3b4th @mattsfavbigtitties @bellassturniolo @sturnsxplr-25

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wonyscafe · 5 months ago

Text

composite/synastry chart obs

⋆ ˚｡ ୨୧

☆ I've noticed how having a partners mercury in the 12th house synastry can cause many struggles with communication... there are many things that are being hidden and it might come up in arguments which can lead to miscommunications

★ having a libra ascendant in a composite chart makes the two people very visually pleasing together- like people will go "oh that's such a pretty couple" for example, you match each others visuals very well

☆ moon in partners 6th house synastry literally SCREAMSSSS acts of service as love language, also the moon person just feels alot more balanced when they are in the presence of the house person, the house person can calm the moon person down just by being there

↳ ^^this also applies to having a virgo moon in the composite chart btw!!

★ when the moon or venus is in the first house in a composite, the two people are literally so affectionate in public- not necessarily pda but like also just being with each other alot, people can definitely tell you two are friends or lovers just by seeing the two of you together

☆ I've noticed that if your sun squares your friends sun, you two might have hated each others guts at first but now you cannot live without each other 😭 i've seen this happen so many times it even happened to me waaaaay too many times

★ I think it only makes sense that couples who have a second house stellium in composite are financially very stable- they're a rich couple or they look like a rich couple

☆ having chiron in partners 12th house in synastry is also something i'd like to talk about. the house person can help the chiron person grow, not only emotionally but also spiritually, the house person is a great source of healing energy for the chiron person. it's a very karmic connection between the two people, but mostly in a positive sense

★ a composite chart with a libra stellium indicates balance, in other words, harmony is very crucial ib this relationship. it might be something that both partners strongly desire

☆ when venus conjuncts moon in the composite chart, the couple will have lots of adoration towards each other. The (emotional) wellbeing of the partner is taken very much into consideration, and one partner will try to make the other partner feel better by giving them alot of love and vice versa 🤍

★ a first house stellium in the composite chart can indicate being the "it-couple", this couple attracts lots and lots of attention

☆ it is very important to watch out with 8th house overlays in synastry charts. if your partners planets (especially moon!!!!) are in your 8th house, you will have to be careful with obsession. being too obsessed with your partner can cause some problems

★ y'all 11th house overlays in synastry or an 11th house stellium in composite is such a slowburn indicatorrr 😭 i don't know why but i've seen this pattern soooo oftennnn

☆ mercury trine venus in synastry couples have such smooth conversations, they're very vocal and open about their wants and needs in a relationship. moon trine mercury is also very vocal about their emotions with each other. there's lots of empathy

★ also second house overlay couples can show lots of PDA for some reason... especially by kissing each other 😨

↳ a/n : I'M BACKKKK!!!!! <3 ngl life has been pretty wild recently 😅 thank you all for always being so patient with me ♡ I hope you guys enjoyed this post, I wrote down so much when I was travelling!!! synastry chart or composite chart observations are pretty difficult for me because it takes more time to find a couple and then analyse their charts (because I don't fw many couples </3) so this has taken some time and effort, so I thank you for being so patient 🫂 𖹭

#wonyscafe #astrology #astrology observations #astrology notes #astro observations #astro notes #synastry #synastry chart #composite chart

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nymphea0 · 2 months ago

Text

Kurkans Mate .

His Mate.

Yan! Ishakan x reader

Part 4 (END).

Manhwa :약탈혼 / predatory marriage

/ 약탈혼 (완전판)

: Adult Manhwa (18+)

Author/Illustrations : Saha / Hera(Art)

Word Count : 2.74 Word.

Hello.. Neva here~, so glad Ishakan's story is finished! Thank you so much to all of you, my dears, who patiently waited and continued to follow this series, seeing that many of you enjoyed this story, I will make special chapters for 'Kurkans Mate', but I will not post it here, but on wattpad, so just wait for it Love♡.- Neva🦋🦋

might have some bad grammars, correct me if there are any mistakes in the words in the story I wrote. Anyways i hope you all enjoys my story,love.- Neva🦋🦋

- Kurkans Mate Pt. 1

- Kurkans Mate Pt. 2

- Kurkans Mate Pt. 3

soft breeze enters a bedroom.

The scent of rose incense scents the corners of the bedroom, early in the morning, you are already awake.

You can't sleep well!, You are worried and anxious about Genin's response if he receives this bottle of blood!.

What if Genin thinks you are a shaman?? Or a witch?!.

Walk to the right then back to the left, panicking and anxious.

You hear footsteps, sit on a soft sofa that is not far from where you are standing, take a breath and relax, as if you didn't look panicked and anxious before.

The bedroom door opens, revealing Genin and a woman who has a very exotic appearance!! Having hair on both sides of her face that is slightly golden.

Exotic eyes, and a soft, seductive grin.

You are not sure who the woman is. What is certain is that she is a woman!! Unlike Genin whose gender you misinterpreted. You are currently quite confident that it is a woman! And not a man!!

Genin was woken up early in the morning by a rough knock, when she opened the door, it turned out to be Mura who was grinning at her while holding 2 papers in her hands.

"Seriously? It's still morning Mura"

Sighing, which was only answered by Mura with a naughty chuckle.

After a few minutes, Genin finally left with Mura, after saying goodbye to her husband of course.

"So... what's the girl like?"

Mura looked at Genin curiously.

"Fragile, very expressive, full of energy, and small."

Answering as best she could, which Mura replied with a wink and a naughty grin on her lips.

Their journey until they reached the front door of the room.

"I hope you speak a little softly, I think she'll be crushed if we speak normally and loudly"

Mura only nods in response, Genin opened the door of the room slowly after knocking on the door.

The door opened, not seeing you sleeping, but there you were, sitting on the sofa still in a soft pink nightgown combined with gold embroidery typical of Kurkans, staring at the window with a melancholic face so beautiful and Ethereal. Both Genin and Mura thought you must be sad being forced to marry and kidnapped by Ishakan.

Genin and Mura walked slowly towards you, clearing their throats softly, when you were already looking at them, Genin spoke.

"Lady, this is Mura, one of His Majesty Ishakan's subordinates, she will help prepare your wedding dress"

Mura smiled or grinned at you softly.

"Hello lady in there ~, I'm here to measure your body for the wedding dress"

Standing awkwardly, hands outstretched, Mura who was busy measuring your body, starting from the waist, head circumference, chest circumference, leg circumference, arm length, height and so on.

For quite a while, silence was the position of the 3 of you at this time, very quiet.

You looked at Genin! Thinking about how you can give your blood in a glass bottle without being suspected as a shaman or a sorceress!!.

Genin will definitely be suspicious why you suddenly gave her blood for her husband to drink?! What if Genin thinks you're joking? Or looks like insulting her husband? Or thinks it's poison?!.

Worried, you look forward again.

Mura who has been looking at you from the start is getting more curious, your hair is as smooth as silk, a beautiful blue color like the sky.

Soft, small and fragile.

You think back to Ishakan, you were very surprised when you found out that he was the king of the Kurkans, damn, it feels more and more difficult to escape, is this your destiny? Oh nature... help your lover!!.

Screaming and loving yourself mentally you can only pity your future life.

5 minutes have passed, your body measurements for the dress and your accessory selection are also complete, just as Genin and Mura are about to leave, this is your time to shine!! Antrabeth's confidence!

Oh elders in heaven! Pray for your juniors! Give yourselves confidence!

"Genin... can we talk.. just face to face?"

Staring at genin then mura.

Mura who understood then lowered her head and blinked mischievously at you and genin then went to close the door.

"Yes lady?"

Genin looked at you confused, you just asked her to sit right in front of you.

"You... what do you know about me Genin?"

Making small talk a little to think of a way to give the blood in the bottle without being suspected.

"Lady... is the Antrabeth tribe right? The Child of Nature Tribe, a tribe that goes against the laws of nature, the 1001 nights Tribe?"

You just nodded, confirming her statement.

"Besides that?"

Asking again.

"Your blood.. can cure all kinds of diseases and give long life?"

Answering uncertainly, Genin had only heard a little information about the Antrabeth tribe, that too from Morga, the Shaman Kurkans healer.

Nodding once more, you confidently ask again.

"I'm sorry if I sound rude but have you ever thought about your husband's legs growing back? And healed again Genin?"

Genin looked at you in disbelief but a sigh was heard.

"I think it's impossible, My husband has been without legs for a long time since the incident I told you the other day, many methods have been tried, Shamans, witches, potions, all of them did not work and were very useless"

Trying to act strong, Genin looked away towards the window showing the view of the Kurkans palace.

"The Antrabeth tribe... we may be famous for our blood that goes against the laws of nature, our blood is as we wish and agree to the blood itself"

Genin looked at you in disbelief.

You then took out a small glass bottle containing 3 drops of your blood, and gave it to the Genin.

"We the Antrabeth tribe, are taught to behave as nature itself, giving and loving without reward,"

You looked towards Genin.

"My father asked me to help those who feel suffering, pain, sadness and imperfection, allow me to help your husband.. Genin, even though it's not much, but I hope this help".

"Just 1 drop is enough"

That was the last sentence from you that Genin heard

That night, Genin saw her husband sleeping, holding a small bottle of blood that you gave her.

Genin's heart was troubled, she didn't want to hope, but there was no harm in trying, slowly opening the bottle cap, Genin opened her husband's mouth a little who was currently in a deep sleep.

Tilted the bottle slowly, Genin poured as you instructed, just 1 drop of blood was enough.

The 1 drop of blood fell and entered her husband's mouth.

Waiting for what would happen, it turned out nothing happened... as she expected, hoping too much was painful.

Closed the bottle slowly and put it in the drawer, and decided to sleep.

That morning, Genin woke up surprised by her husband crying and screaming happily!

Staring at Genin! Her husband was standing on the bed! With both feet!.

Genin stared in disbelief! Don't tell that blood really works!

They hugged each other tightly and cried happily!

Genin swore that all her life he would protect his husband, he did not want and would not be willing for his husband to suffer again.

Genin owes you life, even though you say you don't need anything in return, Genin will still uphold their oath to protect and protect you from harm.

That day, the Kurkans palace was surprised by the genin's husband walking on his two legs!

Of course, that's what brought the two of them to the royal council room.

Both Mura, Haban, as well as the Kurkans council members stared at Genin's husband in disbelief! Especially morga!.

"That genin..." Morga looked uncertain.

"Yes right, my husband grew legs overnight" Genin answered simply.

Ishakan looked at the genin amused.

"You're already close to her, huh, Genin. Tell me a how to get close without being slapped by my wild rabbit."

Ishakan asked jokingly, as if he already knew who was behind the growth of her husband's 2 legs, Genin.

Both Morga and Haban looked at Ishakan suspiciously.

"I think you should be frank, Your Highness, be straightforward and to the point."

Giving a little advice, Genin looked at Ishakan, who was currently just smirking, leaning his arm on the chair handle and his chin on his palm.

Morga looked at Genin and Ishakan became even more suspicious. Because he was the only one who didn't know that Ishakan's bride-to-be was the extinct Antra tribe.

"Excuse me... is there anyone who wants to explain what I actually missed?"

Morga adjusted his glasses.

Instead of answering, Genin just gave Morga a small glass bottle filled with a thick, blood-red liquid.

"What's this? Poison?"

Asking uncertainly, Morga opened the bottle cap to smell it, an expert in the smell of thick iron like blood, what Morga smelled was a sweet scent like flower nectar.

Staring uncertainly at the genin then at the genin's husband and at Ishakan.

Ishakan just whistled a little, with a deep voice full of jokes

"Damn, it turns out she even treats you with great care, why is it different with me huh?"

Grinning sarcastically at the Genin, Ishakan was jealous! Well whatever it was, Ishakan was the only one who tasted blood directly from your finger, in his mouth.

Damn! The heat month was coming soon, he had to hold himself back! Just waiting for 2 more days, then you would be his, his mate!

Morga stared at Ishakan! Ishakan didn't help his curiosity!

That afternoon, right when all the guests were busy talking to each other, Morga, Ishakan, Genin, her husband, Mura and Haban, sat in a circle on chairs, with Ishakan busy smoking his tobacco.

"So? Can anyone explain?"

Morga crossed his arms looking at them with an annoyed look, a bottle of blood right on the table in front of him.

Genin, took a deep breath and then told from A to Z how and where her husband's feet came from.

Morga, Ishakan, Haban and Mura were silent, digesting Genin's story.

Ishakan then laughed straightforwardly and grinned! Unlucky!! he was getting jealous of the genin and her husband!

You are so close and kind to both of them.

But when you was with him 4 days ago you were so wild, fierce and unfriendly like a wild rabbit in front of him!

Ishakan is increasingly unable to resist claiming you as his, there are only 2 days left, after the ceremony is finished, then he will claim you for 5 days and 5 nights, spending his heat time with you!

Morga stared in disbelief! Antrabeth tribe! Turns out it's not extinct yet!

After that brief meeting, Morga asked Ishakan's permission to examine the blood in the glass bottle, Ishakan only let Morga examine it with the other shamans.

Time passed without realizing it, the guests had arrived, the Kurkans tribes of different species came to fill the palace area.

The wedding ceremony, beautiful, the fabrics moving softly, the flower decorations, gold and the very thick Kurkans culture!.

2 days have passed! Damn! It's the 6th day! And you're getting married soon! Wearing a white dress, combined with a light gold, purple shawl and a kurkans-style gold waist chain, this wedding dress shows off your belly, not much but the impression you wear it actually looks very beautiful and sexy at the same time!

Ankle bracelets, and headdresses combined with every curve of your body. The fragrance of Roses around you wafts passionately.

Your dress is covered again with a white robe with intricate gold and white embroidery! Makes you look so beautiful!.

Walk out and slowly towards the ceremony venue.

You're not ready! But here you are! It's hard to accept! Yes! But they never treated you badly so maybe you can only accept your fate and your unpredictable destiny.

Ishakan and all the Kurkans guests, held their breath! Didn't expect Ishakan's bride to be so beautiful, so small and fragile looking!, blue hair ?! It's impossible?!

Morga and the shaman almost ran towards you curiously! And wanted to touch you and your hair! It must be very soft!!.

Right now Ishakan saw you in front of him, looking at him with a look between fierce or accepting fate, Ishakan wasn't sure. He could only grin almost out of laughter!

Ahh... his partner is really turning him on just from the way you breathe and look at him!.

"Ishakan, in the name of the elders, the old gods of the Kurkans, will you take this woman in front of you as your wife, your woman, the mother of your child, in happy, in bad, in good times, in riches, in poverty, whatever the conditions, you will make her your partner, your lifelong partner, even when death separates you?"

The elder Kurkans led the wedding ceremony.

Ishakan answered firmly and confidently!

"I am willing, to take her, to be mine, my wife, the mother of my child, my partner, my soul, my life, you are the world and the end of my life, my mate"

And the event ended with Ishakan kissing me full of love, passion and primal, possessiveness!.

The ceremony ended with a feast, you were surrounded by shamans and morgas asking you many questions about yourself, the Kurkans who spoke whispered to you, afraid they might destroy you.

Ishakan introduced you to his entire tribe, asking them to call you by your name as they called Ishakan by his name. name, full of respect and honor, Ishakan directly wants to say that you are part of his tribe!.

At night, you are taken away by Mura to change your clothes.

While preparing you, Mura asks.

"Should I prepare a healing potion? Morga's healing potion is very fast and effective"

Mura combed your sky blue hair, actually mura was just pretending, this task should be carried out by the palace maid, but mura wanted to be selfish for a moment, you really made her curious!.

You looked at mura in the mirror , confused.

"Why do I need a healing potion?"

Mura just laughed and poked your cheek gently!

"We Kurkans who has beast bloods are famous for having a lot of energy, especially the Beast wolf tribe, His Highness Ishakan from the strong pure-blooded wolf beast tribe"

Mura looked out window where you can see the moon that will soon be full!

"Kurkans, especially wolf blood beasts, have a vulnerability to the full moon, heat."

"The emotional state experienced by kurkans, primal and possessive, during the full moon, kurkans especially the tribe wolf blood beast only spends this time with the person who is considered a life partner"

Helping you wear a blood red dress skirt, on your waist there is a ran decoration gold jewels, Gold flashes like Ishakan's eyes.

"You will spend 5 days and 5 nights with His Highness Ishakan"

You looked at yourself now, a crop that only covered your chest, showing your bare shoulders and stomach, on your stomach there was gold jewelry with a mixture of ruby tear drop colors.

Your hair was beautifully loose, on the side of your head a bright gold headdress neatly arranged on each of your hair.

On both sides of your arms there was gold chain jewelry, around your neck there was a ruby gold necklace.

You looked at yourself in disbelief?! This is you?! How beautiful you are!

(*NOTE : Dress appearance. The dress is a dunhuang hanfu dress, I tried to find clothes similar to the story description but all I found was this and i think is quit similiar to kurkans culture for me and also describ at the original novel what leah wear in her wedding days, feel free to make the dress according to your imagination, the dress is just a raw description for the story. Love- Neva🦋.)

Walking slowly along the palace hallway, you were escorted by Mura, to Ishakan's bedroom! Which would be your bedroom too.

The room was spacious! More spacious than the room you occupied before, a large bed, around the bed surrounded by bright gold and gray cloth embroidered with gold.

The fragrance of roses around this room. There's Ishakan's desk, a small table and a sofa, and there's a balcony too?!

You were left alone by Mura, staring around the bedroom, you didn't even hear the click of the door opening.

"Like the room?"

A deep voice full of temptation behind you.

You turned around to see Ishakan smirking at you, walking over and taking your hand and kissing it gently.

Your heart was beating fast! This is your first wedding night! And you'll spend 5 days and 5 nights with him as husband and wife!.

"Hello my bride~"

Smirking and looking at you full of love, passion and possessiveness!

Tag list; @snowflakes666 @nerdygoateepeanut @blurryperrtymoonlight @luminethebest @scenicelixir @n4muqr @cannyyyyy @athena-roy @sirenetheblogger @rai-xxx @thehopingfairy @ryusooze @yaoduriaa

Please dont steal my work, or use without my permissions, Always be good people Dear. Much love, Neva🦋🦋.

#obsessed #possesive #yandere #yandere x reader #yandere male #manhwa x reader #yandere manhwa #predatory marriage #ishakan x reader #ishakan #kurkans #yandere manhwa x reader #nevaerah

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sanjisleggy · 27 days ago

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welcome to cupid island (sanji x reader) [pt1]

PART 2

a/n: omg so i did not expect the post i made about this idea to pop off so hard ;0; thank you to everyone who commented their interest in this fic! hopefully i managed to tag everyone who asked to be tagged

contents: jealous sanji, some fluff, a tiny bit of angst (a mere taste of what’s to come)

wc. 2.5k

“doesn’t it bother you at all?” Nami asked, tilting her head in the direction of a familiar blond head of hair. “that he’s like that?” Sanji remains unaware of his crewmates’ attention being directed his way, too engaged in conversation with a group of ladies, soaking up all their kind words and light touches. Robin chuckles behind her hand whilst Zoro rolls his eyes, taking another sip of his fifth drink for the night.

“no, not really,” you reply with a soft laugh yourself as you continue to watch your boyfriend wiggle in joy at all the attention he was receiving. “it’s pretty harmless and i know he knows not to take it too far.” Zoro rolls his eyes again.

“you have a lot of faith in the cook, don’t you?” Robin interjects with a warm smile. she’s always been intrigued by the dynamic between the Straw Hats’ chef and botanist. “most people would count what he’s doing as ‘taking it too far’, don’t you think?” she asks and to an onlooker it might sound like a challenge of some sort but you know Robin’s just curious.

“you’re right,” you reply, “both you and Nami.” you reach out to give the navigator sitting beside you a side hug. “i just think we have a special kind of understanding, if that makes sense.”

“whatever floats your boat.” Zoro speaks for the first time since you guys entered the bar. “knowing the shitty cook, i just have a feeling he won’t be so patient if the tables were turned.”

“i’d have to agree.” Nami hums thoughtfully before cracking a smile. “but you’re such a catch, it won’t be long until someone threatens to take his place, huh?” though you feel your face heat up at the compliment, you simply shake your head and laugh, glancing over once more at your beloved.

this time, his eyes catch yours and a wide, goofy grin spreads across his face. Sanji waves, body swaying slightly from the alcohol.

“HI MY SWEET (Y/N)!” he yells with a certain lack of restraint that only comes with being inebriated. before you can react, he wobbles over to your table, ignoring the curious glances and calls from the women he was chatting to before. walking up behind your chair, Sanji slumps over and wraps his arms around your chest, nuzzling his face into your neck. “‘m tired now. let’s go to bed?” he mumbles, continuing to rub his stubbly face against your skin.

after a whole thirty minutes of slowly guiding him back to the Merry and into your shared quarters, you finally manage to make it to bed. you tuck Sanji in before crawling to his side. still barely awake, he hums and pulls you close, tucking your head under his chin and tangling his long legs with yours under the blanket. his hands find their way under the back of your shirt, fingers lightly brushing gentle circles into your skin.

“did you have a fun night?” you ask as you press a soft kiss to his collarbone.

“mmhmm,” he hums. “all the pretty ladies asked me so many questions about our adventures,” Sanji’s words got more muffled by the syllable as he spoke while burying his face in your hair, “but all i could really tell them was about how awesome and sexy you are when you beat up assholes and whatever.”

“oh, really?” you can’t help but continue the conversation even though you can tell how close to falling asleep he is.

“mmhmm…” Sanji takes a comically big whiff of your hair. “time for sleep. goodnight, my love.”

“goodnight, sweet boy.”

ii.

the next morning you dock at a new island that seems fairly peaceful enough for everyone to go about and explore on their own. Luffy, Usopp and Chopper run off to god knows where so the rest of you opt to stick together.

still slightly hungover, Sanji hugs your arm as you stroll down the bustling streets, trailing behind Robin, Nami and Zoro. before you can ask if he’d like to go rest in bed, he suddenly perks up and breaks off from the group to go greet a group of well-dressed women.

actually, now that you think of it–

“doesn’t it seem like everyone is super dressed up here?” you point out, eyes scanning the crowd. all the men and women look well-groomed and don very clean, stylish outfits.

“it’s not just the people,” Nami responds, “the whole town looks decorated for some kind of festival don’t you think?”

“whatever’s going on, there’s far too much pink,” Zoro scoffs halfheartedly.

“it’s Valentine’s Week!” an eavesdropping passerby shares. “we celebrate it here on Cupid’s Island every year. it’s when everyone’s encouraged to woo their romantic interests or propose to their significant others. this year’s special, though.”

“and why’s that?” Robin asks.

“on the last day is when our crown prince Aphr is going to ascend the throne and choose his queen. it’ll be the final thing we celebrate as a town before Valentine’s Week ends! you guys are tourists, right? you should stay until then.”

“when’s that?”

“three days from now!”

“thats roughly how long we have until the log pose sets so i don’t see why not.” Nami shrugs.

after thanking the stranger for their help, the four of you decide to settle lodging for the whole crew until it’s time to leave. as the others discuss further details, you opt to look for Sanji to reel him back to the group. you spot his back a few metres away but before you can call out for him, an old lady grabs your arm.

“hey!” you cry out instinctively, instantly capturing the attention of your crewmates as well as your lover whose eyes dart around frantically looking for you. meanwhile, Nami, Robin and Zoro ready themselves for a possible fight.

“it’s time for a love reading!” the old lady announces and everyone around you cheers. “come, take a seat.” she ushers you to a stool just beside her.

“what’s going on?” you ask, still apprehensive but less on-edge than you were a second ago.

“it’s a Valentine’s Week tradition, my dear, nothing to worry about.” she straightens your clothes and tidies your hair as you take a seat, glancing over at your crewmates for reassurance. Zoro nods, hands at the ready. “i heard you were tourists so i’ll do this reading for free, dearie.”

before you can ask what the hell she’s talking about, she closes her eyes and waves her hands around in an odd manner. the surrounding crowd goes quiet, seemingly entranced by the display, looking almost eager for what’s to come. the only movement comes from Sanji who’s now pushing through the locals to get to you.

then, out of the blue, the old lady gasps as her eyes shoot open. she stares at you incredulously for a second before turning to the audience.

“her score is a hundred out of a hundred!”

just as Sanji reaches you to pull you into a protective embrace, the entire street roars with excitement at the elderly woman’s news.

“what the hell does that mean?” Sanji murmurs. you wonder to yourself the same thing, finding comfort in the chaos from the warmth of his body pressed against yours as well as the knowledge that, without fail, he came right to you when he thought you were in danger.

iii.

much to the entire crew’s relief, your perfect score was apparently nothing but good news. for the next two days, you and your companions are treated like VIPs, much to Nami’s pleasure because it resulted in free lodging at the swankiest hotel.

“all already fully paid for and it’s right beside the royal palace!” the random stranger who sponsored your rooms proudly proclaimed, his eyes scanned over your crewmates before landing and staying on you. “nothing but the best for this year’s prime candidate, of course.”

“and who are we to say no to free things, right guys?” Nami instantly took him up on the offer before the man guided you to the elevators. as you streamed in, the last of the crew to enter the lift, the man took your hand and lifted it to his lips.

“and i hope you will consider me as your choice after this generous gift, milady,” he said after pressing a kiss to your skin. so shocked by the sudden turn of events, you could only stare at him in confusion as the rest of your companions’ jaws dropped.

“she’s taken,” Sanji growled as he grabbed your arm and tugged you to his chest. “thanks for the free rooms but kindly fuck off. now. or i’ll kick your ass so hard the whole hotel is gonna collapse.”

though it was the first, it was certainly not the last time people approached you to shower you with compliments and gifts. while their methods of wooing you vary widely from handmade snacks to reciting poems, one thing they all have in common was how unabashed their attempts are.

“i think our chef’s about to lose it,” Robin observes as the few of you stroll down the street booths to soak in all the festivities. “he’s flirting with the local women as usual but it’s like his eyes are glued onto you,” she laughs, gesturing in his direction.

turning around to see what she means, you bite back a laugh of your own when you spot your beloved partner a few booths away. although surrounded by women who are clearly interested in reciprocating his advances, Sanji’s eyes are blown wide open and staring right at you. his face turns red when you wave and shoot him a smile.

“excuse me, i have a gift for you–” the nth unfamiliar voice of the day tears your attention away from your boyfriend as you turn around to respond to your new pursuer. before you can reject their present, though, you feel a sudden overwhelming presence behind you as the stranger’s face turns pale.

looking up, you’re greeted by the scowling face of your favourite chef, cigarette between his teeth nearly cut in half from how hard he’s biting it. his sharp gaze pierces the man in front of you. if looks could kill, it would’ve been a massacre.

“hey sweet boy,” you greet, reaching out to cup his face in your hand, head still looking straight up at him as he towers behind you. the moment your skin makes contact with his, Sanji’s body relaxes and he turns his gaze to you, his eyes now round and shining. he holds your hand to his face, the size of his hand engulfing the entirety of yours.

“ya finally done flirting with women, shitty cook?” Zoro yells from a short distance away. Sanji shouts back his own retort as usual, all the while still pressing your hand to his cheek. when he’s done verbally abusing his friend, he returns his attention to the stranger still standing in front of you, now seemingly frozen in place, wrapped present still held in his shaking hands.

“and you.” Sanji mutters. “beat it.”

iv.

for the rest of the day, as the sun made its slow descent from the sky, the blond haired cook stayed glued to your side.

“it’s like he’s your stupid guard dog or something,” Zoro snorted; and though he’d meant it in a derogatory sense, you could kind of see where he was coming from. Sanji had never looked so threatening in the time you’ve known him, his gaze was sharp with his fist clenched at his side (his other hand was holding yours) and it looked like he was ready to pounce on whichever poor soul tried to steal you away from him next.

“oh my god, he’s actually like a dog,” Nami concurred with an amused look on her face when she observed how the chef only lost his tough guy act whenever you paid him any attention. the second you talked to him or looked his way, he would instantly snap back to his normal sweet self.

“it’s quite endearing in a weird way,” Robin added. neither Nami or Zoro agreed out loud but shared the same sentiment.

after sunset, you find yourself reunited with the rest of your crew for dinner. with your free rooms came access to the hotel’s fanciest restaurant (much to Luffy’s delight) and (to Sanji’s horror) even richer men and women trying to make you fall in love with them.

“i wonder how much this is gonna cost,” Luffy says at one point, words muffled from how much food he’s stuffing into his mouth.

“it’s all free,” Robin answers, “everything here was sent by and paid for by the other patrons.” She turns to look at you, propping up her arm by her elbow to rest her chin on her hand. “our dear (Y/N) sure is popular here.” she says, smiling endearingly when she notices how Sanji shuffles his chair closer to yours in response.

without saying a word, he reaches out under the table to hold your hand. the relief he feels when you give him a light squeeze in return makes his heart sink the lowest it ever has the entire time your crew set foot on Cupid Island and he can’t really put his finger on the reason.

shouldn’t i feel happy she’s still willing to hold my hand?

Sanji pulls your hand over to rest atop his lap before choosing to forgo the rest of his dinner to simply play with your fingers. for a good while, you’re content with watching him quietly caress and rub your digits as though they’re the most precious things in the world, heart fluttering at the gesture. you can tell he’s thinking about something but decide that it’ll be better to ask him about it later in the privacy of your hotel room.

“excuse me, miss (Y/N)?” a deep voice says as the young man who owns it walks through the restaurant and towards your crew’s table. gasps erupt from every other table as all eyes fall on him and subsequently your group as well. seeing as its nothing new, most of your companions simply ignore him to continue eating and drinking to their hearts’ content. the man stops by your side, standing in between your chair and Sanji’s, seemingly undeterred by the sight of your hand resting on your beloved’s thigh.

“yes?” you respond simply, looking up at him. you’d be a liar if you said he wasn’t an attractive person, with his shiny soft hair, defined cheekbones and the brightest eyes you’ve ever seen; but his looks alone do nothing to your heart.

the man drops to one knee before you and just a split second after, you feel Sanji tighten his grip on your hand. his palms turning cold and clammy as he glares at the intruder forcing himself in between you and him. the rest of your crew freeze in place, mouths agape at the sight playing out before them.

“my name is Prince Aphr of Cupid Island and i would like to officially court you for your eventual hand in marriage.”

to be continued

–

tags: @amei-draws-stuff @carmen-skullz @cobainlover @lara-christensen-me @shondlenoodle @teewon @makingmammonmoves @carmendanny2

#one piece x reader #one piece #one piece x yn #one piece x you #op x reader #imagine #fanfic #op #sanji x reader #angst #fluff #opla x reader #one piece live action x reader #vinsmoke sanji #black leg sanji #sanji

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mountainsandmayhem · 3 months ago

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BDSMaid - Chapter 5 (Part One)

Series Summary: After recently graduating you take what is supposed to be a job to save money before you go back to university to get your law degree. Your best friend offers you a job cleaning luxury homes for clients you’ll never know. Easy. Simple. Mundane. Until one of your clients is home and everything you felt was missing in your life starts to fall into place. This goes against the NDA you signed and you could get fired. Or worse, you could fall in love.

Chapter Summary: You let Mister Miller help you out of a slump and learn you might like a little pain

WC: 8.9k

CW: Reader as some descriptors (freckles, long hair etc) so this might be more of an original character vs female reader. Dom/Sub dynamics, pet names (sweet girl, baby, baby girl etc). More CW in red below the cut but will contain spoilers.

AN: THANK YOU for being sooooo patient with me while I delayed this chapter. This is only HALF of the chapter and as soon as my lovely @lotusbxtch beta's the other half I will post it. No pressure thought, bb!! I just couldn't WAIT to share this since you've all been so wonderful and supportive. Moodboard by me, dividers by the wonderful @saradika-graphics

CW: riding crop, oral (male and female receiving), male masturbation, female orgasms, hand cuffs, deep throating/face fucking, descriptions of self doubt and panic attacks; reader is going through it, ok? Hair pulling, Joel is a bit mean but he does it with love and care. Joel being a consent and aftercare king.

Joel

Joel sits on the Trocadéro platform of Café de l’Homme, the birds chirping and the sound of rustling papers keeping him from getting too lost in his thoughts of you. Sarah sits across from him, a stunning view of the Eiffel Tower to their left, and a buying agreement typed out in French taking up most of the table. Joel might not look like it, but he can see himself eventually living out his years in either Paris or Italy. He speaks enough French and Italian to get by, but relies on Sarah to read over the contract for her new condo. His baby girl is a doctor and now that she’s almost a year into her surgery residency, this condo is her graduation present finally coming to fruition.

He looks down at his phone, opening the text thread he has with you. He’s been trying to give you space to study this week, telling himself each day that this isn’t what you signed up for but he can’t help himself, and when you responded with a selfie of yourself in your maid discreetly polo the other day he knew there was no way he’d be able to keep that pledge to himself anymore. Joel looks at the time, factoring in the time change, and your LSAT retake is in a few hours. His thumbs move on their own.

Good Morning. Good luck on your LSAT today.

He attaches a picture of the coffee he had that morning before hitting send.

The waiter comes by to take their orders, Sarah’s French flowing from her lips as easily as she breathes, happily telling the waiter what both her and her dad will have. Joel mutters a ‘merci’ as the waiter nods.

Thank you. That coffee looks a lot better than mine.

A selfie of you, all pink cheeked and smiling follows. A paper to go cup with a plastic lid in your hand beside your face.

Were you running?

“How’s it going over there?” Joel says over his phone screen to Sarah, her focus is intent on the stack of papers in front of her.

“Shh, I’m reading,” she says lightly as the waiter opens an expensive looking bottle of white wine and pours a little for her to try. After taking her small sip and nodding at the waiter she looks to her dad. “What? I thought we were celebrating!”

He shakes his head, laughing at his daughter as both of them look back at what they were doing.

Yes. I run most mornings. Gotta clear my head.

What’s bothering you, sweet girl?

You know, you calling me that has the same effect as me calling you Mister Miller.

Ok, we’ll just call each other by our names then.

Joel is so wrapped up in his little bubble with you that he doesn’t notice Sarah sitting back and watching him as she sips her wine.

That’s no fun, let’s come up with safe nicknames.

He feels the side of cheek tug up. She’s so fucking cute.

Alright, I’m calling you giggles

What am I, a rodeo clown?

Joel laughs silently to himself, not realizing that he’s sporting a full and cheesy ear to ear grin across his face.

Fine - Freckles

Eww, that’s what the mean girls in high school used to call me

Well the hot, successful man who owns a sex club and supplies your orgasms finds your freckles incredibly sexy. What’s my safe nickname?

“Who are you texting?” Sarah says, her voice thick with amusement.

Joel clicks his phone shut, laying it face down on the table. He wipes the smile off his face and looks up at Sarah like a child who just got caught stealing candy. “No one. Just work stuff.”

“Uh huh, sure dad. I know that smile. Did you meet someone?”

Joel grabs his wine, taking a larger drink then necessary. A drink of someone who’s lying. There’s no way he can tell his daughter about this. Sure, Sarah knows about the club but they never talk about what goes on there. “No! Of course not. I’m too busy for that.”

Her eyes blink to his phone as it vibrates on the table, but he keeps his attention on Sarah, his wine glass looking comically small in his large hand. “I’ll just ask uncle Tommy.”

“Funny story, he’s been removed from the family.” He deadpans.

“Tess will tell me then,” Sarah says, her and her dad both challenging each other jokingly.

“Who? Never heard of a Tess before,” Joel says, crossing his arms.

Sarah laughs into her wine glass, “Ok dad. Look, I want you to meet someone, so don’t hold back on my account. Seriously, you’re a catch and have been alone for a long time.”

“I don’t want to talk about it with you, Sarah. Not yet at least.” His phone vibrates again and she cocks an eyebrow before going back to her papers.

Joel scoops up his phone to read your texts.

Huh, suddenly I’m over being bullied. Weird. Oh, I have the peeerrrfect nickname for you!

Go on, Freckles…

Sweet Cheeks, cuz seriously Miller, dat ass.

Daaaammmnn!

You’re treading on mighty thin ice, baby girl

Joel, I have a serious question…

Go on?

Are your suit pants tailored TO your ass?!

Joel chokes on his wine, trying to stifle his laugh.

“Alright, who is she?”

“Fine. I met someone, but she’s really young, like younger than you, Sarah. And she’s leaving soon for law school so it’s just best if I don’t talk about it.”

Sarah smiles at her dad. “First of all, I don’t care if she’s younger than me, especially seeing you smile like that. Do you have any idea how many of the girls at college wanted you? You're my dad, so it’s gross to say, but you were the campus DILF.”

Joel feels himself blushing as she continues, “Second of all, you don’t have to end things just because of school. Me and Wyatt maintained our relationship while I was in New York and he was in Seattle.” As she wiggles the pear shaped diamond on her left hand the waiter brings out their food, and Joel changes the subject to the condo that he just bought for his incredible daughter.

Our little girl did it, Tiff. Thank you for giving her to me, he thinks.

You

“That’s time, everyone,” The proctor calls from the front of the stuffy, windowless room that you and forty five other law school hopefuls have been in for just over three hours.

You let out a slow breath, cheeks puffing and eyes fluttering closed. You didn’t finish, last time you finished, and the proctor has been eyeing you the entire time. He knows, he fucking knows you aren’t nearly as qualified or as smart as the rest of the people in this room. That line from Gilmore Girls, something about having shiny Harvard hair is all your anxiety can focus on. The people in this room have Havard hair, even the men. You don’t belong here.

You’ve never been in a lower spot and after the high of the flirty text conversation with Joel this morning you didn’t anything could get you down. In the span of just a few hours you’ve been completely torn apart, you can feel the panic attack clawing greedily at your chest. You fucking blew it, all of it. You blew your chances at law school, you blew your future as a lawyer and, in turn, your future as a judge. You’ll be cleaning houses forever, and not that there’s anything wrong with being a professional maid, but it’s not your goal.

Maybe I was fucking stupid for only having one goal. Maybe I need to do something else with my degree. Maybe my father was right, I’m nothing and I’ll always be nothing. Maybe my mother was right too, I’m the smartest girl at home but the world is going to chew me up and spit me out. It’s doing that right now, isn’t it?

Your feet take you to the locker where your phone’s been locked up, and then out to your car. You don’t notice the warm late March air when you leave the testing building and there's a good chance that you jay walked, narrowly missing being hit by a car as you walked to the parking lot. Before turning the key in the ignition you open your phone, there’s a little red bubble on the JMK app. When you tap on it you have a new calendar section and Joel has invited you to the club tomorrow night. You stare down at it, waiting and hoping to feel something. That excited giddiness you usually feel, or the butterflies that typically erupt in your stomach, but nothing comes. You close out of the app without accepting the invite and drive home.

A soft knock on your door pulls you from the anxiety-ridden nightmares you’ve been slipping in and out of. In the first one, you were having your degree taken away. In the second, you were sitting on the end of the bed in Joel’s private room looking out a window into the voyeur room. Joel was walking another woman around, similar to how he did with you the first time. The one that your roommate interrupted involved you being completely naked while trying to find your first class at Harvard.

“Babe?” Odette’s calm voice fills your room, “You ok?”

You tap your phone screen: 9 pm. You’ve been passed out all afternoon and evening.

“Ya, just had a hard day.” You try to move out from the blankets, but they’re tangled around your limbs; a clear sign that you were restless in your sleep.

“Are you hungry? I ordered pizza. You have a few more college letters too, I think three were in the mailbox today.” Her voice is light and excited, as if she’s trying to pump you up.

“Thanks, O. I’ll, umm, I’ll be out in a sec.”

The door shuts gently and the tears finally come. Five minutes, you tell yourself, before you start sobbing into your pillow to not alert Odette. After your allotted crying time is up, you open your phone. Messages from Jamie and Laren are left on read before you slide into the JMK app and accept Joel's request to meet at the club tomorrow night. You join Odette for a late dinner, but there’s no way you’re opening those letters tonight.

Cap drops you off outside of the club the next night. This seems to be the officially unofficial routine of being Joel’s sub and you aren’t sure why. Cap confirmed last time that he didn’t do this for the other girls; you don’t deserve special treatment.

Any treatment, really, you think. Even the little box of feelings in your mind feels the same way, sulking sadly in the dark corner you banished it to.

The black marble foyer feels cold and mocking tonight, even with the beautiful hostess smiling brightly and greeting you by name. As you turn towards the entrance to the club, a man dressed in an impeccable black suit holds his arm out for you.

“Good evening, Miss. Joel asked me to escort you to his room tonight.”

You nod, forcing a smile and a thank you. All this black feels like he’s walking you to your own funeral. As you step into the club there are people everywhere. Couples are dancing, people are taking up the tables and the barstools. The deep bass of the music thumps through the club and the nagging pressure behind your right eye threatens to pop it right from its socket.

The security guard holds his wrist to the pad on the door and holds it open for you.

“Thanks,” you say again through another fake smile.

The door clicks behind you and the music dulls, the only light on this side of the door comes from the propped open door of Mister Miller’s room. You rap your knuckles lightly on the door frame and Joel steps into view. Your eyes travel from his shiny black dress shoes, up the perfectly tailored black dress pants and fitted white dress shirt. His sleeves are rolled to his elbows, exposing the strong muscle lined forearms that usually drive you wild. You stand there, waiting and hoping to feel something, but just like in your car yesterday, nothing comes. Meanwhile, he’s smiling at you as if he’s just discovered the pot of gold at the end of the rainbow.

“Hi, my sweet girl,” Joel’s voice usually coats you like warm molasses, especially when he calls you his. But the rejection letters feel like they have plastered themselves onto you, seemingly creating a hard shell, keeping that miserable gray fog from escaping.

“Hi, Mister Miller,” you say obediently, hoping he doesn’t notice anything is wrong.

He motions for you to come inside, and pulls you into his arms as the door quietly clicks shut behind you. You wrap yours around his waist subconsciously as he presses his lips to your forehead. You’re sure the two of you have embraced like this before but right now it feels foreign. “What’s wrong?”

Fuck.

“Nothing. I’m sorry, it’s just been a long few days. I’m sorry, I can go. I don’t want to drag you down.” Your hands fist his dress shirt, a silent cry for him to not let you leave as an annoying dry lump forms in your throat.

“Hey, no. Don’t be sorry, baby girl.” His hands run long, slow lines up and down your back as he brings his forehead to meet yours.

The pounding of the music on the other side of the club fades away completely as his eyes melt into yours. It's absurd that you missed him, isn’t it? You are his submissive, nothing else. But when he looks at you the way he is now it’s hard to remember up from down. The pressure behind your eye dissipates as one of his hands cups the nape of your neck and squeezes gently. From the outside eye, you could almost argue that he’s acting as if he missed you too.

His voice is a soft whisper as he continues, “Did you want to talk about it?”

Maybe it’s his years of experience as a dom and taking care of his subs. Or maybe this is just normal for him, but you aren’t used to someone wanting to talk about it. You’re used to a quick hug and a shitty pep talk. His hands felt heavenly on your clothed body, but as they brush against the bare skin of your neck to cup your cheeks they’re out of this world. This strong, successful, handsome man is giving you his full attention, wants to give you his full attention, and as his nose runs down yours it finally happens.

Your body is flooded with that familiar desire. Your breathing catches as you practically moan, “No, I need you to make me forget. Help me, Mister Miller. Please?”

A smile tugs at the corner of his mouth, exposing that dimple that makes him so damn endearing as he pulls his face back from yours. “I’m going to push you tonight, sweet girl.” He slides your faux leather jacket off, letting it hit the floor. “Are you sure you want to do this?”

“Yes, Mister Miller,” you say, your voice turning husky.

His eyes dance around your features and with a single blink he switches. You don’t think you could ever describe it, but it’s like he puts on a mask. His soft brown eyes turn almost onyx, the muscles in his jaw seem flexed, but it’s his voice that really gives away when he’s transformed into his fully dominant form. Joel’s voice is deep yet has a soft aura. Mister Miller's voice on the other hand is full of gravel, and nothing is a suggestion.

“Take off your clothes.”

Joel steps back, watching as you slip your bare feet out of your sandals. You felt underdressed tonight, but you just couldn’t convince yourself to put together an outfit. Your denim shorts and oversized black t-shirt come off easily and after stepping out of your shorts you look up at Mister Miller. His tongue runs along his bottom lip as he takes you in, eyes widening at your lack of bra and panties tonight.

“Dirty little girl.” He accentuates every word as his eyes travel a burning path up and down your exposed skin and then to the side of the room behind you. “See that pillow?”

You spin slowly, a black velvet pillow sits on the floor, handcuffs hanging above it from a chain connected to the ceiling. You look over your bare shoulder at Joel who simply juts his chin towards it in a silent command. As you walk towards the pillow, the metallic clink of his ring hitting the ceramic dish washes over you. Goosebumps spread across your skin and you feel the anxiety leaving your body. The doubt that has been screaming at you dulls to a barely-there whisper. For a second you feel weightless, floating towards the black pillow like the little styrofoam packing peanuts you used to place in rain run off as a kid.

‘No one has ever made you feel like this’. The little box of feelings says from the dark, ‘He’d take care of you, if you let him.’ You push that box deeper into the archives of your mind as you stop in front of the pillow.

Joel’s voice is deep, almost a menacing growl from behind you as he says, “Kneel.”

Your mind shuts off completely as you comply, dropping to your knees, facing the wall, and tucking your feet underneath you.

“Toes planted on the floor, sweet girl.” You adjust how you're sitting, exposing the soles of your feet to Joel as he walks towards you, his expensive dress shoes clicking slightly on the hardwood. You can feel the heat of his body as he stops just inches from your bare skin. “Good. Hands up.”

His touch is gentle as he places the cuffs around your wrists. “What’s your safeword?”

“Stegosaurus,” you say softly.

“Louder!” He barks.

You jump slightly before saying it again with confidence, “Stegosaurus.”

Joel takes a small step towards the wall and tugs the other end of the chain to pull it tighter, stretching your arms up above your head. You’re almost lifted off your knees. A small piece of leather running up and down your spine and your breathing starts to speed up. The anticipation of what’s to come almost has you bursting at the seams.

“This is a riding crop. You said you’re interested in impact play, as well as paddles, whips and crops. Is that correct?”

You nod, your throat going dry and voice cracking as you say, “Yes, Mister Miller.”

“How’d your LSAT go, baby?”

“I…I th-think I failed,” you murmur.

A sharp snapping sound fills the room, quickly followed by red hot pain on your right ass cheek; you gasp at the sensation.

The soft leather goes back to tracing your spine, slowly up and down, almost feather light and ticklish. “Again, how did your LSAT go?”

“I’m sorry, Mister Miller. But,” your try to swallow the dry lump in your throat. “I think I failed.”

As if he’s had years of sniper training, he strikes you in the exact same spot. This time your body jerks, the chains rattling above you as you cry out. However, the heat of this strike spreads right to your clit, and your cry morphs into a whine of pleasure.

“Sweet girl, do you belong to me?” He trails the leather along your hip, slowly teasing up your side.

“Y-Yes, Mister Miller.”

“Does it look like I own things that aren’t perfect?” The soft end of the crop continues its trail, over the side of your breast and to your armpit.

“No.” You whisper.

I can’t do this, he’s going to ask me to say I’m perfect and I can’t do it.

“I don’t appreciate you talking bad about something I own.” A strike lands on the sole of your left foot, you hadn’t even realized the crop had moved from your arm. He taps the foot again, lighter this time but the pain from the first strike hasn’t ceased, a strangled cry passes your lips. “Especially when what you’re talking about is yourself.”

Another strike hits your right ass cheek and the red hot stings of it causes you to shoot up onto your knees. The chains above you rattle and go slack. Joel makes a noise similar to a growl behind you before two quick snaps land on the back of both of your thighs. “Kneel, sweet girl.”

You’re shocked by the moans and gasps that are filling the room, sounds that are unconsciously coming from your own mouth. Your pussy is throbbing and as you settle back onto your heels you realize how wet you are. You didn’t think you’d like this this much.

“You need to learn how to stay still without being tied down.”

“Sorry, Mister Miller,” you whine through the panting breaths you’re taking.

“I’m going to ask you one more time,” he says, striking your left cheek and then gently rubbing along your ass. “How did your LSAT go?”

“I…It…I don’t know,” you say defeatedly.

He hits the sole of your left foot again, then your right ass cheek and this time your body acts on its own, your hips tilting to push your ass out towards Joel, a needy moan filling the room. “Come on, baby girl. Use your words.”

“It was harder then I remember,” you hum, your body practically vibrating with need. God, you can’t believe how good this feels.

The crop makes a slow line from the top of your ass, up your spine again and you tense up, sucking in a big breath. “Relax, my sweet girl. Until we talk about it, I will never strike you anywhere above the waist.”

“In fact,” he continues. “Anywhere here,” he draws a big circle along your entire lower back, “Should never, ever, be hit.”

“Ok, th-thank you.” You sink onto your heels again, your inner thighs are almost slippery with how turned on you are.

Joel laughs lightly, “You’re welcome. So, it was harder than you remember?”

“Y-yes. I think I failed, Joel.” As soon you say it, you know you’ve fucked up. Eight quick, sharp snaps of the crop hit; two on each ass cheek and two on each foot, all at random. It’s over faster than you can apologize, and the walls of your pussy spasm with each crack of leather on skin. “Sorry, Mister Mill, hnng, M-Miller.”

Your head falls back, eyes fluttering closed as he speaks. “Again, it was harder than you remember?”

You whine before whispering, “Yes, but I tried my hardest.”

“Up,” Joel commands, pulling the chain so you’re up on your knees. “Good girl. Spread your legs.”

He bends down behind you, the heat of his broad upper body warming your back. His strong hands grip your waist to steady you as you walk your knees out. “That’s it, good job sweet girl.”

His praise shifts everything. Sure, maybe you failed, but you are stronger than a little test. You are bigger than law school. If you don’t get in, you’ll try again and you’ll keep on trying, because you can do anything. A bright light shines on the little box of feelings.

The crop lightly tapping your inner thigh brings your back to the moment. “Please, Mister Miller.”

“You don’t have to ask, sweet girl. If this is enough to make you come then let go for me.” He whispers, trailing the leather of the crop up your thigh before trailing down the other.

“I need you to touch me,” you whine, letting your head fall forward.

“Aww, poor baby,” he mocks before bringing the little leather square between your legs and taps lightly against your swollen clit.

“Oh god, oh god, don’t stop,” you moan.

“Yea? My perfect sweet girl gonna come?”

“Yes,” you cry, head now falling back, your mouth falling open in a silent scream.

"Tell me,” he commands, stopping the tapping and just letting the soft leather rest against you, “Tell me you're perfect.”

“No, please,” you murmur.

“Tell me you’re perfect and you can come, sweet girl.” The crop is barely touching you now.

“I’m perfect,” you whine.

He smacks your clit harder once, twice and with the third snap of the crop you fall over the edge. The chains rattle as pleasure consumes you. Your orgasm rolls through you so hard and all you can do is take it. You moan loudly and your legs start to give out beneath you, the handcuffs and chain above you the only thing holding you up.

Joel

Fuck, she looks absolutely stunning when she finally submits. My beautiful, broken girl. She’s so smart, so driven, always pushing, pushing, pushing. Always taking care of everyone else. I wish she’d just let go, let me take care of her.

As you slump forward he drops the riding crop, wrapping his arms around your waist to hold you up, as he undoes the cuffs. You go completely boneless in his arms, your back pressed to his front, his soft lips peppering kisses along the top of your glistening shoulder. “You did so well, sweetheart. God, you’re so beautiful.”

He supports your weakened body, lowering you to the floor and rolling you onto your back. He pushes the hair that’s stuck to your sweat soaked forehead back. The soft and mischievous smile across your face is exactly what he was hoping for; you’re not ready to be done yet and luckily, neither is he.

“I’m not done with you,” he whispers, gravel in his throat, before kissing your forehead.

Joel stands and takes a few long strides across the room, sitting on the edge of the bed. He can feel your eyes glued to him as he walks away. After your joke about his pants he picked a pair that's extra snug, just for you. He’s never picked an outfit for a sub before, and this just further proves that even if he’s not ready to fully admit it to himself yet, you are so much more than just a sub.

“Sweet girl, come here.” He pats his thigh. As you sit up he says, “No, I want you to crawl to me.”

Your eyes widen, cheeks flushing, and his heart nearly flutters right out of his fucking chest as you say, “What?”

He leans forward, forearms resting on his knees. He wants to wrap you in his arms and praise you, but you’re responding so well to him being mean and he knows you need him to keep going. “I said to fucking crawl.”

When you get on your hands and knees, his cock swells to its full potential, pushing painfully behind the zipper of his dress pants. He begins memorizing every inch of your glistening skin and the lust-filled expression on your face as you move so beautifully across the room.

“Like this, Mister Miller?” You ask innocently, wetting your lips and effectively ruining his life at the same time.

“Just like that, my sweet girl,” he praises, sitting back up and patting his thigh as he adds, “All the way, then rest your head right here.”

You finally reach him, settling yourself in a kneeling position again and laying your head on his lap, big eyes looking up at him sweetly. His short nails scrape along your scalp as his fingers card through your hair and butterflies fill his stomach as you melt into his touch. “You look so pretty like this. So sweet and submissive. I’m a bad man for the thoughts I have about you when you’re like this.”

You hum quietly, eyelashes hitting your cheeks as your eyes flutter closed. You’re fully at his mercy, trusting him to do what he thinks is best. It’s not a role he takes lightly, not like when he was younger. If this was fifteen years ago you still be handcuffed to that ceiling as he fucked you, but after breaking a lot of hearts he’s reformed his ways. No sex, that’s the rule, as badly as he’d love to sink into your tight, wet heat, you’re trusting him to keep you safe.

A sense of calm and comfort washes over him as he continues to massage at your scalp, and he smiles to himself as your body gets heavier between his spread thighs. There’s lots of things he likes about you, but the thing he loves the most is how he never knows what’s going to come out of your mouth next. And you prove that when your eyes flutter open and you confidently say, “I want to suck your cock.”

“Fuck, baby. Gonna give me a heart attack sayin’ shit like that outta the blue.”

Your perfect pink lips curl up into a shy smile, his hand moving from your hair so he can brush his knuckles lightly down your cheek. “S’ that what you want? To suck on my cock?”

Your head comes off his lap as you nod up at him. “Yes, Mister Miller. Please?”

“You know that you don’t have to do that. Right? I don’t do this for orgasms, it’s about so much more than that for me.” He asks softly, knuckles trailing your jaw.

“I know, it’s more than that for me too, but I want to.”

The two of you look at one another for a while, eyes dancing along each other's faces. His voice comes out thick and full of sand, “Take it out.”

He sits back, resting his hands on the bed behind him as your hands go to his belt, quickly undoing the buckle and then opening his pants. His thick cock springs free as you pull down his soft black boxers, the tip already leaking a bead of milky precome. As you eagerly press the flat of your tongue to the tip, he stifles a moan and watches as your eyes widen. He knows that look, it’s the same look every other man and woman has when they see it for the first time. Joel’s never been with someone of the same sex, but on the rare times he’s shared a sub with another man they have the same expression too.

“You have a piercing,” you say, curiosity thick in your voice, eyes glued to the nickel sized silver hoop that sits at the very bottom of his pelvis, the bottom of the hoop sitting just above the base of his cock.

“Yes,” he confirms, watching the questions about the unusual placement of it run behind your inquisitive eyes.

Your hand is wrapped around the base of his cock now, your pinky grazing the shiny metal, and his hands fist the sheets behind him to stop himself from grabbing you. “I didn’t know that was a place people pierced.”

He smirks. “Welcome to the wonderful world of kink, sweet girl.”

He got the piercing shortly after he began his journey to become a dom. In certain positions it can be very beneficial for his partner, and even though he’s vowed over and over again to himself that he’s not going to cross that line with you, he can’t help but imagine your perfect face as you find out exactly what it can do. A little piece of metal that would stimulate your clit as he fucks you.

Your soft pink tongue wets your lips before you begin to suckle on the sensitive rosy pink tip of his cock. His lips part with a quiet sigh. The entire tip of his cock slips into your mouth and his hands clench harder at the fluffy white sheets, desperately trying to let you explore him when all he wants to do is wrap your silky hair around his hands and hear what you sound like when you gag. His efforts double as you hum and then swirl your tongue around the leaking tip, big doe eyes looking up at him.

“Fuck, baby,” he almost whimpers. “Do that again.” You smile up at him sweetly and his heart starts to thunder behind his ribs. This isn’t a good idea. He should just focus on you, he gets off on that too, just in a much different way.

Submissives come to him for many different reasons but he’s a dominant for one reason only. From the minute Tiffany passed, Joel has been responsible for everything. From raising Sarah, to bailing out Tommy whenever he got in trouble. Not to mention his construction job, which eventually led to being a business owner. Everyone needed everything from Joel. He had to pivot plans or multitask, nothing ever went as planned; but when he’s Mister Miller it goes exactly how he wants it to. He can say no, he can make them beg or say please, he plans what happens and it goes just how it’s supposed to. For a man who is supposed to be “the boss”, he only feels in control when he’s playing the role of dominant.

And then came you. This beautiful little ray of light. From that first gasp and wide eyed stare in his office he had a feeling about you. And then everything that came out of your mouth took him by surprise. And right now, how good your mouth feels has him even more surprised.

You haven’t looked away as you’ve worked more of him down your throat, your hand moves in tandem with your mouth, and your tongue flicks against the ridge along the bottom of the tip each time.

“Feels s’good, sweet girl.” One of his hands moves on its own, tucking your hair behind your ear. “You can take more though. Come on. Be a good girl and take it all.”

A small humming giggle vibrates along his length as you work more of him into your mouth and he can’t fight it anymore. Both his hands come to your hair, pushing it back as he wraps the soft strands around his fingers and grips tightly, guiding you down and holding you as low as he can get you before you gag. “Good fuckin’ girl. Jus’ like that.”

You

Joel’s salty precum is like a drug. You want it. Need it. And know you’re going to crave it forever. He’s been mean tonight, something you haven’t really seen from him, but it was exactly what had to happen to get your head back on straight. You needed a harsh hand to snap you out of the dark looming cloud that’s been threatening to swallow you whole.

You’ve probably always suffered from depression or high-functioning anxiety, not that your parents would have noticed or said anything. And even if they had, they wouldn’t have gotten their braggable daughter diagnosed. God forbid you weren’t something for them to hold over their friends’ heads.

Joel’s hands tighten in your hair as he starts to take over. He let you taste him, let you get his cock nice and sloppy with your saliva. He looked down at you softly while you started, but now he’s back to full dominance. Full Mister Miller.

He pushes you down onto his cock, the tip just kissing against your gag reflex. Your scalp burns under his strong fingers and you can feel yourself submitting. Everything goes quiet: your limbs feel heavy yet ready to move or adjust as he commands, the sides of your vision darken, and the only thing that matters now is him. His wishes. His desires. His commands.

He pulls you off of him, and you gasp in air, a string of your spit landing on your chin, your eyes watering. “You snap if you need me to stop, got it?”

“Yes, sir, Mister Miller,” you say hoarsely. “Fuck my mouth, please.”

“Open,” he says growls.

You do as he says, opening your mouth wide while looking into his dark obsidian eyes. You can see his cheeks and tongue working behind his closed lips before he spits into your mouth.

“That’s my fucking girl,” he rasps and then roughly guides you back onto his cock. He doesn’t take his time or stop at that point of resistance this time. No, this time he pushes you further than you’ve ever been. The cool metal of the ring on his pelvis touches your nose. The juxtaposition of his hard cock meeting your soft mouth and his cold piercing meeting your warm face is staggering, yet comforting.

“Breathe through your nose,” he instructs.

You switch your focus, sucking air in through your nostrils slowly. “That’s it, sweet girl. Relax.”

You let your body sink again into his muscled lined thighs. He starts to move you up his cock. He gets about halfway before he forces you down again. You gag as he hits the back of your throat, shocking yourself when the gag ends in a moan and your pussy starts to weep for him. In fact, almost everywhere is weeping for him. Salvia drips from your lips and onto his lap, tears run down face.

You’re a mess.

‘His mess’, says that annoying little box in the corner of your mind which now has ‘Mister Miller’ written across it in loopy cursive handwriting, the dots of the i’s little bedazzled hearts.

Joel uses your hair to pull you up to the tip and you gasp in a few breaths before he starts moving you up and down his now obscenely wet and fully erect cock. Your jaw aches with how wide you need to open your mouth to fit him. Your fingertips just met around the tapered base earlier. You’ve never looked at man’s cock before and thought much, but Joel’s might be enough to ruin your life.

“Fuck, this mouth. Feels s’ fuckin’ good. Look at you, takin’ it so well. You like this, don’t you?”

“Yes,” you say, although it’s muffled around his cock. He pulls you off fully, releasing his grips from your hair. You sit back on your heels, his eyes raking over your body, pausing to watch your heaving chest; a mixture of needing to catch your breath and being insanely turned on. You don’t take your eyes off his face.

“Stay.” Joel’s voice is deep enough that you feel it reverberate through you. You lick your lips, swallowing down the taste of him that you’ve become addicted to and place your hands on your lap.

One of his hands comes up to his mouth and he spits into his own palm before bringing it down to fist his cock. Your eyes flick down to watch as he pumps himself slowly. “You have me doin’ shit that I didn’t plan, sweet girl. I give in to you, let you take the reins. But I’m in charge here.”

He pumps faster, and you fight to stay where you’re supposed to. “You need to remember that, so you don’t get to be the one to make me come today, you don’t get to feel it or taste it. No, you’re going to sit there, like a good little obedient submissive, and watch.”

You whimper, your right hand moving on its own to between your thighs.

“I didn’t say you could touch yourself. Keep your hands on your lap.” His voice is strained as the movement of his hand becomes less fluid. His free hand comes to his balls, massaging them lightly and you try to commit the sight of him like this to memory. Tall, wide, and commanding, yet falling apart as he looks at your naked and kneeling form in front of him.

“Mister Miller?” You ask, your voice small and cracking, the back of your throat raw from the way he fucked your mouth. “I’m so wet. Please, can I just touch for a little bit?”

His mouth falls open, pleasure etched across his features, his focus never leaving you. “Show me how wet you are. Spread your legs for me.”

You raise off your heels slightly and slide your knees apart, exposing your wet and swollen cunt to him. Then you lean back, hands resting on the floor behind you, tilting your hips up so he can see all of you.

“Good girl. So fuckin’ pretty,” he moans and then you watch as white ropes of cum spill over his hand. Your name passes his lips in a groan as he comes simply from the sight of your pussy. His hand stills and you lock eyes. You should feel shy like this, but instead you smile at him, a mischievous giggle bubbling up your chest as you bite down on your bottom lip.

His head nods towards the small dresser by the door, the one with the ceramic dish where his ring is on top. “Bring me a small towel from the top drawer and then get on the bed.”

You saunter to the dresser, trying your hardest not to look too eager, and then back towards him with a small fluffy white hand towel. He takes it from you and cleans himself up as you lay on the bed. He stuffs his softening cock into his boxers and then removes his pants and shirt. If you thought you were turned on before, it’s nothing to how you feel now seeing him almost naked in front of you.

That whole looking like you’re carved from stone gene is strong with the Millers, you think, watching the muscles behind his toned skin flex beneath his tanned skin as he climbs onto the bed. He grabs you by the ankle and pulls you to the end of the bed, a squeal leaving your lips. You had almost forgotten about the riding crop welts, but the friction against the sheets has them burning slightly and you wince as the heat settles.

“I’ll fix those sore spots, but first I need to taste you. Is that ok?”

You spread your legs wide for him, “Y-Yes. I need you, Mister Miller.”

“Tell me what you need,” he hums, settling himself between your legs.

“What you said,” shyness seems to have finally caught up to you, although you aren’t sure why.

He raises a thick dark eyebrow at you. “Ask for it, tell me how you like it.” He nods at you encouragingly as you take a few breaths. “Come on, my sweet girl. You can do it.”

My sweet girl, you melt. That fucking bedazzled box of feelings is fully in the spotlight now. He has years of experience in this role, but you can’t be imagining it. Looking at someone the way he’s looking at you now isn’t something that someone can fake. You can’t be the only one to feel whatever this invisible teether is between the two of you.

“I like fingers curled inside while the tip of your tongue flicks at my clit. I like suction too.” The pride in Joel’s face is almost overwhelming as he listens. God, he’s beautiful.

He hums slightly, readjusting himself between your spread thighs. “My pretty girl gets what she wants,” he whispers before using the tip of his tongue to gently work at the soft folds of your cunt, working his way from your tight entrance to your clit.

Your body jerks when he reaches your most sensitive part and you can’t stop the salacious moan that fills the room. “Oh god, Mister Miller.”

He runs his tongue in slow, teasing circles around your clit. Not with enough pressure to actually make you orgasm, just enough to taunt you, and your entire body breaks out in goosebumps and a thin sheen of sweat at the same time. He slides his right arm under your leg, hooking his elbow under your thigh and reaches his hand up and over towards your pussy. His thick pointer finger and thumb easily slip to each side of your puffy clit. Just as you’re about to float off into another dimension he pinches hard. You scream out in a delicious mix of pain and pleasure, your back arching off the mattress.

He holds your clit in his fingers, easing up the pinch to tease at it with his tongue again while he works the middle finger of his other hand inside of you.

“You’re so tight,” he hums between licks. “Gotta relax for me. Let me into this tight little cunt.”

You whimper at the push of his finger inside of you. One of his fingers is easily one and half of yours, and if he’s having a hard time getting just one of them in, you can’t imagine how it will feel to have two.

“Eyes on me, sweet girl,” he rasps, releasing your clit from his fingers. His strong hand presses lightly on your mound. “You’re safe here, baby. Open up for me.”

As always, you follow exactly what your dom says. Craning your neck slightly and opening your eyes to lock your gaze with his. The honey flecks in his dark brown irises warm your skin and as your body relaxes he smiles up at you. You feel Joel’s finger slide the rest of the way in with minimal resistance and it sends a wave of pleasure from your core to your toes.

“There’s my perfect sweet girl.” He groans as you let out a euphoric whimper. And then he’s back on you. Soft lips pressing to your wet heat, the flat of his large tongue circling your clit.

Your head falls back to the mattress, “Fuckfuckfuck. Oh god!”

Your orgasm is embarrassingly close. Joel is hitting almost all the spots you love. No man has gotten you to the edge this quickly. Just as that tingle at the base of your spine starts to spread he curls his finger forward and sucks your clit into your mouth.

“Mis…hnnng…fuck. I’m - I'm gonna.” You can barely think outside of the pleasure, nevermind form a sentence.

A second finger slips inside of you, “Give it to me, sweet girl. Show me what I do to you.”

Your orgasm hits you like an earthquake, making you shake harder than you ever have. The walls of your pussy clench hard on his strong fingers. His mouth is back on your clit, sucking it between his soft, warm lips. The lewd sounds of his sucking mix with your cries of pleasure. Joel is ruthless, never stopping as you absolutely crumble underneath his touch. Another strong wave of your orgasm rushes through you when he curls his fingers forward again, pressing right on your g-spot.

“Oh fuck, fuuuck Mister Miller.” You whine.

He slows the motion of his tongue as the convulsions of your body slow, working you through the aftershocks of your earth shattering orgasm.

“Good girl,” he whispers before placing a light kiss to your spent clit and slowly slips his fingers out of you. As your gazes lock he licks your arousal off his fingers and then rolls you onto your stomach. You hear him suck in a breath through his teeth when he sees the aftermath of his riding crop punishment earlier. “I’m sorry, sweet girl. Just stay on your stomach for me.”

His lips press to your shoulder blade as the mattress baubles under his weight leaving the bed. You glance over at him, watching his broad, tanned back as he grabs a few items. He spins to face you, coconut oil in one hand and an orange juice and a bottle of water in the other. He places the drinks on the bedside table then scoops a bit of coconut oil onto his fingers.

You wince as he makes contact with your right cheek, “Ouch, Mister Miller.”

“I know. This will help, and hopefully you learned your lesson about talking badly about what belongs to me.” His voice is sweet yet serious and he moves onto the other cheek, then the back of your thighs before his hand wraps around your right ankle, guiding you to bend your knee so he can look at the sole of your foot.

He places a light kiss on the light pink spot and you giggle, “Your beard tickles.”

He laughs and does the same thing to the other foot before lining his body up with yours and pulling you in to be his little spoon. “How are you feeling, sweet girl?”

“Mmmm,” you hum, sinking back into his warmth. “Much better. Thank you.”

“You don’t need to thank me,” he holds you tighter, biceps flexing around your body like a ring of muscled safety. You're both quiet for a few minutes before he breaks it. “You kinda scared me tonight if I’m being honest.”

“Sorry,” you whisper, hiding your face in the arm he has under your head.

“No, don’t be. I’ve always been good at reading people, it’s probably more of a curse than a gift, but I just - I could feel that you weren’t in a good space when you got here.”

“Ya,” you agree.

“I know I can’t fix it, it’s not my place, but I hope I at least helped.”

You fixed it.

“You did help. I feel much better. Plus,” you turn to face him, both of you using one of your own arms to support your heads and your other arms wrapping around the other person. “Plus, you were right. I am smart. I can do this. I need to not be so hard on myself.”

Joel smiles sweetly, straight white teeth shining at you.

“If I can be spanked with a riding crop while handcuffed, fuck, I can be aaaanything.”

You and Joel laugh together and it all feels so natural. Maybe too natural. There’s something comfortable and familiar about him. It might be that southern hospitality, but in all the years you’ve been in Texas you’ve never felt this content with someone else.

“Mister Miller?” you say as the laughter subsides.

“You can call me Joel now,” his eyes widen just for a fraction of a second after it leaves his lips, almost as if he didn’t intend for it to come out before adding, “The scene is over.”

“Ah, so you’re saying this is a safe nickname zone now?” His smile makes your stomach flip.

“Careful, freckles.” He laughs, raising an eyebrow at you.

You give him a closed lipped smile, “Hey, if you’re gonna use it then so am I, sweet cheeks. Don’t think I didn’t notice the extra tight pants tonight.”

He shrugs a strong shoulder to his ear as you continue. “So, if you don’t sleep with your subs, why the piercing?”

He takes one big breath and licks his lips before he starts, his fingertips trailing up and down your arm. “I got it a long time ago, I wasn’t always as strict with my rules. I’m not proud of it, I broke a lot of hearts when I first started this whole thing. I haven’t taken it out because…well, I don’t really know. I guess because when I do finally reach that point with a partner I want them to experience the benefits.”

Always the giver, you think.

“Can you have a traditional partner while living this lifestyle?” You immediately begin to back track, realizing that you don’t want to seem like you’re getting attached. “Not you in particular. What you do outside of this room isn’t my business. I just mean like, are there doms that have subs that are married? Again, not you.”

He stares at you as you continue to ramble. “That whole thing came out wrong.”

“Relax, freckles, I knew what you meant. You’re kinda cute when you get all flustered and start to ramble though.”

The lid of the now pink painted box of feelings in your mind lifts a little. It seems to have gained an entire personality, and has the voice of Mrs. Potts from Beauty and The Beast as it says, ‘oh he definitely feels that tether too.’

“To answer your question,” his voice pulls you out of your own mind, “There are doms that do this professionally. I did have paying subs at one point myself and had a fairly serious girlfriend.”

Jealousy churns in your stomach. It’s irrational and you really hope it isn’t whoever Tess is.

“But,” he continues, “It’s a tricky situation and involves a lot of trust and communication. Probably more than a sub-dom dynamic. But, yes, I’ve seen lots of happily married people who live and explore the kink lifestyle.”

You shiver slightly and he pulls you in closer, tucking your head into his chest, inhaling that ash, leather and natural Joel musk. His hand runs up and down your naked back, the calluses on his fingers scratching slightly.

His body tenses, almost as if he’s nervous before he speaks. “Did you want to come to a Shibari class with me this week? We are hosting a demonstration at the club on Wednesday.”

You glance up at him, “I’d really like that, Joel.”

He tucks your head back into his chest. His lips press to the crown of your head at the same time that yours meet the soft skin of his sternum. “It’s a date.”

Part Two

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