#i still love this live segment

[jewishcissiekj]

watching a Star Wars animation to live-action YouTube video and there is so much more to it than I thought but the video is so fucking long It'll take me 3 weeks to watch it why can't I just know all of it

[velvetjune]

need more melanie liburd behind the scenes

[pumpkinrootbeer]

Something that really hits like a gut punch the older I get, as someone whose been actively suicidal the majority of my life, is how fucking. Young Sam is in the original 5 seasons. If it ended as originally intended, Sam never would have made it out of his 20s and I can't accurately describe how sad that makes me

[icharchivist]

wait the gbf fest starts in a little over 24 hours 💀 sorry i’ll be back on being a gbf blog on main again

the 21st stream is supposed to have Atsushi Tamaru to its cast though so i will still be unbearable. 

[bibleofficial]

ok so the guy i met today i met through this other guy i knew that moved & we lost contact but he (today) filled me in & apparently he (moved) got covid BAD in like 2020 or early 2021 & he’s still having to carry an oxygen tank w him :( but also i lost interest after he told me i was ‘unsanitary’ for not shaving my ass like bro …,

[manjiroscum]

ROMANTIC HOMICIDE | IL DOTTORE

pairing: dottore x reader; implications of future tartaglia x reader

summary: in which you’re with dottore’s youngest segment when he makes the deal with the dendro archon.

warnings: heavy angst, character death (dottore’s segments), very heavily implied breakup but it’s not made explicit, dottore does not know how to deal with emotions, the youngest segment (referred to as iota segment) was literally like reader’s son, was very liberal with what little we know of dottore’s lore/background.

notes: wow this was the most emotionally intense thing i’ve written in a hot minute. ever since i learned that dottore had a 10 y.o. segment i’ve been distraught—he is my son #real. keeping dottore in character for his pov was honestly a rlly big writing challenge n i had a lot of fun w it. i think i did pretty well. as always, rbs for boost are appreciated! praying that this stays in the tags n it’s only the tighnari tags glitching again 🤞

small taglist: @tweris @mxnjiros @hanmas (thank you for creating a whole new doc to beta for my last night cuz i forgot to add comment/edit perms luvr 😍) @dxlucs @7rkx @albedophoria @manjiroscum @suyacho @niicevibe @alucrds @dynalite @tokyometronetwork

wordcount: 7.3k

“Good morning, sleepy head,” you murmured, a small smile pulling to your lips as you watched a familiar pair of eyes flutter open, still heavy with sleep and exhaustion. Dottore’s Iota segment only let out a noise of complaint as he rolled onto his side, burying his face into the pillow. You hummed quietly, running your fingers through the soft curls as his expression slowly went lax again, drifting back off to sleep. “You have to wake up sooner or later, I told you not to stay up all night reading that book.”

“I choose later,” his voice was muffled by the pillow, thick with sleep and you tried to bite back a laugh, not wanting to encourage his behavior. Instead, you leaned down to press your lips against his temple. 

“I made you breakfast,” you tempted, watching as one of his eyes immediately peeked open, watching you curiously. “Strawberry crepes,” a recipe you had learned to make during the few months you had been stationed in northern Fontaine, on the Snezhnayan border, a recipe that Dottore and his segments particularly enjoyed even if the Iota Segment was the only one that was obvious about it. 

“... Fine,” he finally agreed, pushing the blankets off and sitting up. You watched, a fond smile pulling at your lips as he stretched, yawning and rubbing at one of his eyes until he froze mid-yawn, catching sight of you watching him. “Don’t look at me like that,” his voice was sharp but he was flustered, cheeks pink as he turned away from you.

You rose to your feet, holding a hand out toward him and you turned away before he could catch your smile as he reached out and took your hand, small fingers curling around yours as you led him from the bedroom. 

Your relationship with Dottore’s segments varied widely--from the Theta Segment, who could barely stand to look at you but would still throw himself in front of danger for you if it came down to it, to the older segments, Beta, Gamma and Delta, who were as adoring and obsessive as Dottore himself was. You liked to think that you didn’t play favorites, but you knew it was a lie--how could you not have favorites when the Iota Segment was just right there. 

The youngest of all of Dottore’s segments, the Iota Segment was frozen in time at the age of ten, why Dottore had felt it necessary to create a segment this young was a question in itself. But you were not one to cut your blessings short, so instead you took advantage of the situation, being able to dote over a far younger and more vulnerable Dottore, before he had become cold and sharp and cruel. 

No one was born evil, you liked to believe, and the Iota Segment of Dottore was surely proof enough of that. Dottore never told you much of his past, but you knew enough to figure out exactly when this one had been made--the scar crossing over his nose and the top of his face was fresh, so he had to have been frozen in time right after he had been run out from his village, hailed a monster and heretic and scarred by his parents the night they chased him out. 

Sometimes, you wondered what Dottore’s life would have been like had he not been shunned and kicked to the streets by the people that were supposed to love him. You spent enough time with the Iota Segment to know that his interests back then were nothing like the older Dottore’s. But Dottore had been from a devout and traditional village down south in Sumeru, so the moment that he had sparked interest in ruin guards and comparing humans to archons, it had been his downfall.

It was only after the first rejection in his hometown, from the people that were meant to love him unconditionally, did Dottore’s mindset begin to spiral into the one he had in the present day--uncaring of human life, ruthlessly ambitious in pursuit of his goals, sadistic and cruel and tunnel-visioned onto his research. 

But the Iota Segment had yet to be cemented in that mindset--and maybe that was why Dottore had created one so young. He was still hurt and stand-offish after the events in his hometown, reluctant to get close to people but he was not cruel or sadistic, he was young enough to still be able to see the aranara of Sumeru but old enough that he could still devote himself and focus on research.

Curious and clumsy, the Iota Segment usually was found following after the older segments like a lost duckling, with them watching over him to make sure he didn’t find himself in trouble, as he usually did. But the older segments were all busy these days, with three down south with Dottore himself in Sumeru, overseeing the God Creation project, the Theta Segment continuing Dottore’s research into Irminsul until he could take back over, and the rest scattered throughout Teyvat still trying to advance the Archon residue project after the setback from two years back. 

So it was up to you to keep an eye on the Iota Segment, and as much as you loved the boy, you swore you were on the verge of pulling your hair out. The amount of times you had to go out in the freezing winters of Snezhnaya to go searching for him, having to warm the both of you up with fire and blankets and hot cocoa, was too many to count. 

It was both a blessing and a curse that Tartaglia had come back to Snezhnaya because he was willing to keep you company while you watched over the boy but the Iota Segment despised Tartaglia, and you couldn’t help but wonder if it was because the older segments were whispering in his ear about the fellow Harbinger. It was very much common knowledge that there was no love lost between the older segments of Dottore and the Eleventh Harbinger. 

“Do you think Master Dottore will let me work with live ruin guards when he gets back?” the Iota Segment asked as he sat down at the counter to shovel the crepes into his mouth. Your stomach lurched at the question, very much aware of the dangers that came along with working with live ruin guards. Dottore had been hesitant to let the Iota Segment anywhere near the live ruin guards. He didn’t like to restrict the curiosity of his segments but he was young and there was little reward and too much risk if something were to happen to him.

But the Iota segment had been working overtime while all of the other segments were gone, studying all of Dottore’s notes, reading over the research papers that Epsilon wrote on ruin guards and ruin hunters--if there was a piece of research on it, the Iota segment had read it to the point where he could recite it word for word if asked. 

“With all your studying?” you smiled, nudging him gently with your shoulder as you passed by him. “How could he not?” 

“He never stops the other segments from doing what they want,” he complained, and you watched as he twisted his food around with his fork, resting his chin on his palm. “Only me.”

“Mmm, that’s not true,” you said off-handedly, not even really processing it before you spoke, thinking back to the many times Dottore had put a stop to the Beta and Delta segment trying to get it on with you when they thought he wasn’t around.

“Yeah? Well what did they get stopped from doing?” he demanded, turning to face you and you froze, realizing what you had said.

“You know I don’t care to listen when they prattle on about their experiments,” you tried to blow off the question. “I don’t remember exactly what it was.”

But your chest tugged when you watched his shoulders slump over again, a frown pulling at his lips. You pouted softly, moving to stand closer to him, you cupped his cheeks in your hands and lifted his face so he was looking at you and you hated how frustrated and upset he was. “You’re young, s-”

“And I’ll never get older,” he snapped, trying to look away from you but you only smoothed your fingers over his cheekbones, tracing the lower half of his scar. “I don’t even know why he made me. I’m useless compared to the rest of the segments.”

You leaned down, pressing your lips to his forehead before letting out a soft sigh, “You are not useless,” you said, smiling as he huffed, hiding his face in your shoulder. “In fact, I think you’re the most useful of them all.”

“Now you’re just lying,” his voice was muffled into your shirt but you could hear the way it cracked. 

“I would never lie to you,” and it was the truth, not that he would ever believe it, having been burned too many times by the people that were supposed to love him.

He made a noise, barely even acknowledging your words before he tilted his face up, and you forced yourself not to coo, catching the way he blinked up at you through his lashes, cheek still pressed to your shoulder, red eyes wide and searching your face.

“You’re so strange,” he murmured, and you raised your eyebrows, not sure if you should be offended or not. You could feel him shrug. “You just are. Nobody chooses us.”

You swallowed thickly, playing with one of the thick curls laying against his ear. “I’ll always choose you.”

“I just don't understand,” he finally spoke louder, pulling away from you, staring down at the plate, and you cocked your head to the side as you waited for him to continue. “I’m not stupid, you know? I know the Jester has been coming here, offering you a high ranking position in the Fatui—why do you keep turning him down?” 

And you smiled, cupping his cheeks and tilting his face up, pressing your lips to his temple once, then twice, and then a third time. “Now why would I ever want to become a Harbinger when I can simply spend my days with you, silly boy? I told you, I’ll always pick you.” 

Your smile softened when you noticed that his red eyes had welled with tears—and it really was a reminder that the segments were stuck in the mental state Dottore created them at. No matter how many times you told the Iota segment how much you cared for him and that you would never leave him, he would never believe you or understand it—too stuck in the betrayal of his mother and father. “Do you mean that?” he asked, voice wavering. 

“Of course I do.”

His bottom lip trembled and you hummed quietly, reaching out to pull him to your chest. He flung thin arms around you, pressing his face against your skin and you could feel his shoulders shaking and you could feel the way he was desperately trying to blink away tears. The words that had slipped out when you had woken him up from a particularly bad nightmare rang through your head:

“Father said I’m not allowed to cry.”

“S’okay,” you said softly, cupping the back of his head and holding him close, remembering how he had been shaking, terrified at the prospect of crying that night because of what he thought waited for him after. “You can cry.”

The noise that escaped his lips was caught between a sob and a wheeze, you could feel his hands clutching at the back of your shirt, blunt nails digging into your back. You did your best to soothe him, running your fingers through his hair and rubbing soft circles against his back--he was reaching the end of the cycle again, where he fought back all of his emotions until they exploded. It was something that every version of Dottore dealt with--the Theta segment was prone to bouts of rage at the end of his cycle, Epsilon and Delta tended to close themselves off, and Dottore himself got cold and sharp, to the point where it was hard for you to convince yourself that he didn’t mean some of the particularly harsh words he spoke. 

You could hear the muffled apologies against you as he tried to calm himself down. The Iota segment had yet to compartmentalize and funnel his emotions in the way the older segments did, so instead of being able to force the emotions into one that was easier to handle--like cold or hot anger, which was how Dottore frequently described it--he was forced to deal with tears that only made him more anxious and frustrated, a spiral that he couldn’t control.

“Hey, look at me,” you said, waiting for him to look up at you, and he did--lashes wet, eyes rimmed red and bottom lip wobbly. 

“Come,” you said, holding out your hand for him. “How about you come tell me about the research you stayed up reading last night? So you can get ready to show Dottore how much you have learned while he was gone. He’ll be impressed if you’ve taught me some, that’s a feat that not even he’s been able to achieve yet.”

His eyes were still welled up with tears even as he perked up, taking your hand and all but dragging you in the direction of the library. He was already waving his free hand around, voice still cracking as he explained something about cores and autonomy that made little sense to you, but he seemed to be pulling himself out of the spiral before it could worsen, and you supposed that was worth the headache that was bound to come from trying to understand what he was talking about.

---

“You need to bathe, why must this always be an argument?” you were exasperated calling him for the hundredth time, hands on your hips as you paced up and down the hall. This was the third time this week that he refused to interrupt his studying for basic necessities and you were tired of chasing him around to haul him into the tub or force feed him. 

“I will in a minute!” he shouted back from down the hall, locked in his room. “I just need to finish this page.”

“You said that twenty minutes ago,” you told him loudly.

“I did not! It was five minutes,” he argued.

“Check the clock then.” You could practically see the way his brows were furrowed, searching for the clock in his room, and you couldn’t help but notice that he did not, in fact, talk back this time. “Well?”

“... it was nineteen minutes ago,” he said, rather petulantly before going quiet again. “Just this last page, I mean it this time.”

You sighed heavily. “The water is running. Get in there before it goes cold. I’ll be in the other room.”

You turned on your heel to walk back down the hall toward the library, intent on curling up on the sofa and reading that book that Dottore had left behind for you, claiming you would enjoy it. You hadn’t got the chance to look at it since he left, too caught up in handling little Iota--but you knew if you didn’t at least get through a good portion of it before he got back, he would be disappointed. Not that he would ever show it outwardly, but his gaze would linger on the unmoved book in a way that you knew was him second guessing himself if the way his fingers tapping steadily against his thigh had anything to say about it.

And you didn’t want him to think that. Dottore was never the best with verbal or physical displays of affection but he was phenomenal when it came to things like that---thinking of you and things you might enjoy, and bringing them for you to appreciate. He was observant and attentive unlike anyone you had ever met before when it came to figuring out what you like and don’t like. 

He had been hesitant about it during the beginning of your relationship, but as the years went on, he became more and more comfortable bringing you stuff. But Dottore, as much as he would deny it, was rather sensitive when it came to his emotions. Or maybe sensitive wasn’t the right word--he was closely-guarded, and one little thing like you brushing aside something he had gone out of his way to bring you because he thought you would enjoy it could set him back quite the distance.

You smiled softly, shaking your head as you looked down at the ground as you reached the end of the hall. You didn’t even get a step into the library before you heard the Iota segment’s door slam open.

Familiar footsteps dashed toward you and alarm began to shoot through you, turning around just as he barreled into you. You let out an oof, stumbling backward as you wrapped your arms around him, cupping the back of his head. Panicked, you lifted his head, turning his face up toward you so you could search it, make sure he was okay.

“What’s wrong?” you asked, throat closing up at the way his red eyes were glassy with tears and you worried if something set off the spiral again--anxiety eating at your stomach because you thought you had averted it and couldn’t think of anything that would have sparked it again. He buried his face into your stomach. You stroked his hair as soothingly as you could, trying to calm him down and keep your own voice steady. “Are you okay? Talk to me. What’s going on?”

“He’s getting rid of us,” he cried, voice catching on a sob. “He’s getting rid of us, he’s killing us for the gnosis.”

Your world stilled and shattered at once, hand freezing midstroke against his head, “What?”

“He’s getting rid of us,” he was repeating it over and over again but you simply could not comprehend what he was saying because it just couldn’t make sense to you.

Why would Dottore ever do that? The segments were difficult, nigh-impossible to make now that some of the resources were all but inaccessible and Dottore was strong, obscenely strong, he was the strongest man you knew and you knew that the Dendro Archon stood no chance against him, why would he not just take it by force?

You wanted to assume that the Iota segment was wrong, that he had just misheard something, but the way he was clinging to your shirt tightened and his weight went dead in your arms.

“I can’t feel my legs,” he gasped. “I can’t feel them, I can’t move my legs.”

You eased the two of you down to the floor, arms shaking, barely able to process what was happening as you cradled the boy in your arms holding him to your chest. “It’s going to be okay,” you said, trying to stop your voice from shaking, pressing your lips to his forehead, “It’s okay, everything is going to be okay.”

“I don’t want to die,” his voice cracked. It was happening too fast. You felt sick to your stomach, nauseous as you noticed how his fingers were no longer clutching at your shirt, arms limp next to him. “He’s going to regret this, he will, I don’t want to die. I can’t feel my legs or my arms anymore, I can’t-I’m scared-”

“It’s okay,” your vision was blurred, and this time you couldn’t stop the way your voice wavered as your arms tightened around him, as you buried your face into the top of his head holding him tight. “Everything’s going to be okay. Don’t be scared, I’ve got you, Zandik.”

“I don’t want to die,” he repeated, more desperately this time, voice shrill. “I don’t understand, I don’t understand, why is he doing this? He’s going to regret this, he’s-”

The following silence was louder than his cries. You stared at the wall in front of you, praying, begging, for him to speak up again but he didn’t and you could barely even process what had happened. Not even two minutes had passed since you told him to get in the tub before the water ran cold and now-

Now, he was limp in your arms, the weight felt obscenely heavy compared to the amount of times you had carried him around when he got himself hurt--it was a different sort of weight, you couldn’t feel him toying with your hair as you propped him up on your hip, you couldn’t feel him squirming in your arms as you held him bridal style, you couldn’t feel his chin resting on the top of your head as you carried him on your back around the house while he was immersed in whatever book he was reading. 

It was deadweight in your arms now, and it crushed everything within you all at once. You wondered how the night had turned so fast--how you had been chasing him through house as he screeched at you to leave him be to him using his last moments to rush into your arms; how he had been excited at the prospect of actually being able to study live ruin guards to crying against your chest afraid to die. 

You wanted to cry but everything felt cold and empty and numb and you thought, just for a moment, that you might hate Dottore. 

---

He half thought that he would come back to the estate and you would still be sitting there holding the youngest segment’s body. You were not. And he wasn’t sure if he should be relieved or worried that he came home to an eerily empty and cold house. 

His throat had been tight when he had first arrived, the book he had left you untouched in the library and the halls of the estate absurdly uncomfortable when he realized you weren’t there. A bit of anxiety pooled in his stomach at the thought of you leaving without a word but your clothes were still in your shared room. There were still mementos on your dresser that you wouldn’t leave behind, so he figured you were just busy doing something else.

A grave had been dug, was the last thing he had noticed looking out the window of his bedroom, before Pierro had called him to the Zapolyarny Palace for a status update on what had happened down in Sumeru. The soil was still fresh, and Dottore considered, just for a moment, digging up the grave and trying to scavenge whatever materials he could from the segment’s remains--it wouldn’t be enough to create a new one, but it would be a start at least. 

He ended up deciding against it as he twirled the familiar blue earring inside of his pocket--you had left it on the dresser for him to see as soon as he had noticed the grave. An offering, he supposed, asking him not to disturb it. He figured that he could acquiesce to that much at least. 

The more time he had alone to think about it, the more perplexed he became--he had been certain that he would come home and you’d still be there, clutching the Iota segment to your chest. He had been prepared for the tears, he had been prepared for the anger; he steeled himself for the sharp words and shoves against his chest when he tried to draw close. He had expected it and it didn’t happen, and all of the walls he had built up to brace against the aggression crumbled in confusion.

Dottore didn’t like being wrong. It threw him off when he was prepared for something to happen and then it did not, in fact, happen. His mind was running at the speed of light, bouncing around all of the other options as to what might happen next. You didn’t leave, you weren’t there to yell at him, you weren’t there crying, so where were you? Were you planning something sneakier? Revenge?

No, he shook his head, revenge wasn’t your way. 

He paused, or maybe it was, you had always been cold and spiteful, just never to him. 

Would him killing the segments really change that?

He didn’t like that he couldn’t be confident in his answer. 

Dottore inhaled slowly, keeping his gaze trained forward and his lips pressed tight, fingers tapping steadily against the side of his thigh, a tactic he had learned while at the Akademiya to keep himself calm and thinking straight when he found himself in a predicament that had him second guessing himself. 

It was something he had to worry about later. For now, he had to get to the debrief before he had to waste time listening to Pierro make snide comments about him being late again, as he had the dozens of times he or one of his segments had gotten caught up in research before a meeting. 

He tried to push you out of his mind--a difficult task, he realized as he approached the meeting room and you just would not leave the forefront of his mind. Questions and options raced behind his eyes as he tried to figure out where you were, what you were doing, and what he should expect when he inevitably ran into you. 

He did not have to wonder for long.

He entered the room while Pierro was talking with one jab in his direction at his lateness, as he predicted, but the words didn’t fully process through his head. Dottore could hear him but Pierro’s voice sounded distant and muted even standing next to him. He couldn’t focus on his words--not on what he was asking, not on what he was explaining, not even when he was being addressed directly because he was too focused on you.

You, who was standing right between Pulcinella and Sandrone, eyes iced over and unfriendly in a way that Dottore had never expected you to direct toward him. 

You were angry over the segment, that much he could put together from the cold fury in your eyes trained solely on him. He knew you would be angry. He expected that. But what were you doing here? In the meeting with the Harbingers?

Pierro had mentioned bringing people up to replace Signora and now, he supposed, they would have to replace Scaramouche too, but-

But you? 

Shouldn’t this have been something mentioned to him? At least in passing? When was this even discussed? How long had Pierro been trying to get you to join--why hadn’t you said anything to him? 

What was going on? 

“Dottore,” the voice was harsh and sharp, Dottore’s eyes dragged from you to land on Pierro, who was watching him with a frustrated expression. Rather absently, Dottore noticed that all of the Harbingers were looking at him, and he played back the last few minutes in his head trying to figure out what he had missed. 

Ah. The debrief on the events in Sumeru. 

His voice sounded empty and robotic even to his own ears as he recounted what had happened down in Sumeru from the beginning of the God Creation Project, to the arrival of the Traveler, to Scaramouche’s developments and progress in the experimentation, to the interference from the Traveler and that group, to the meeting with the Dendro Archon and the two deals that were made with her.

He couldn’t help but notice the way Tartaglia’s eyes had drawn toward you when Dottore mentioned his segments, the way his body had twitched to move toward you. What was that? He was still looking at you, even though Dottore knew that Tartaglia knew he was staring right at him. Tartaglia’s brows were knit together in concern, and instead of meeting Dottore’s gaze, you looked at him. Tartaglia. A silent conversation that Dottore couldn’t understand—something green and ugly tugged at his chest, he forced it away. 

Pierro wasn’t pleased with the loss of Dottore’s segments or the information he had offered up to the Dendro Archon, but he was more focused on the successful attainment of the two gnoses so Dottore was able to redirect his attention toward you.

You weren’t looking at him anymore, gaze trained on Pierro as he delved out orders to the rest of the Harbingers. He was angry--well, it was more than anger, but he couldn’t place what the second emotion was yet. He didn’t understand why you hadn’t consulted him about Pierro’s offer before taking him up on it, he didn’t understand why you hadn’t even mentioned it to him, and he did not like the way that Tartaglia was watching you, completely tuning out all of the discussion around him. 

Hot anger. Dottore liked to differentiate different types of anger between hot and cold, it was easier for him to digest and figure out how to handle that way. Hot anger needed coolness, otherwise it would blow up into an explosion. Cold anger needed warmness, otherwise you would freeze each other out. Dottore was more adept with handling hot anger as he himself was rather cold.

And with him, you had always been hot anger, like his younger segment--Theta. You had been hot anger, he had been cold. A messy situation for when the two of you got into arguments, but not as messy as it could have been otherwise—you worked well with each other even when arguing. Why were you cold now? Where was the shouting and the aggression? The pushing at his chest and telling him to leave? 

Dottore did not know how to handle your cold anger. He needed your warmth to balance out his cold. Once again, he felt anxiety yanking at him. He pushed it away. He had until the end of the meeting to figure out how to approach you and fix this mess before it escalated too far. 

But the end of the meeting came too fast for him to process. Logically, he knew it had been a decent amount of time, but it had only felt like seconds had passed between him giving the rundown of what had happened and Pierro dismissing everyone. You were going to Fontaine with Arlecchino, that’s what Pierro had said right before ending the meeting. Fontaine, not to the outskirts but instead deep into the court of the Hydro Archon who hated the Fatui and everything they stood for. 

Another unfamiliar emotion--more intense this time. He couldn’t push it away. 

He didn’t have to ask you to stay. As all of the others left, you lingered. You were looking at him again but Dottore was more focused now on Tartaglia, who hadn’t left, and was staring at you, hesitantly. Rage. He funneled the unfamiliar emotion into rage as he turned his head to the lowest-ranked Harbinger, who had the audacity to raise his chin and meet Dottore’s gaze head on--or meet his gaze as best as he could, at least, with his mask on.

“Ajax,” it was your voice that drew him from the anger, but only momentarily. The familiarity that you spoke Tartaglia’s name had Dottore’s blood boiling, his delusion rattling against its mold. Since when- “Go.”

Since when was Tartaglia, ‘Ajax’? It had taken Dottore months to finally tell you what his real name was—an act that had been one of the most difficult decisions of his life considering it meant reviving a part of him that he had killed off years before.

It had taken him months to tell you and it had taken you months to get used to it—how were you saying Tartaglia’s real name so casually and fondly like that?

Tartaglia only listened to you when you looked at him, nodding once before turning and walking out of the room. He didn’t go far, Dottore noticed, he was lingering outside, ready to step in as if Dottore would do something to hurt you. As if he would ever, Dottore thought, trying to bite back the rising anger. And even if he did, it wasn’t like Tartaglia could hope to stop him. 

“What was that about?” Dottore asked, voice tenser than he intended for it to be.

“What business is it of yours?” your voice was sharp, icy in a way that it hadn’t been with Tartaglia. That green feeling returned, ugly and intense, along with something else—something that had his chest feeling heavy. 

“What business is it of mine?” Dottore questioned, tone laced in disbelief as he stared at you. “You’re my-”

“I’m your what?” 

He didn’t like how you cut him off, how you were waiting for him to say something. He had heard you take that tone with associates of the Fatui before--associates who had gone back on their word and you were often the one sent to whittle the answers out of them before one of the Harbingers, usually a segment of Dottore, was sent to remove them. This was the tone you took when you had won, waiting for them to deliver the sentence that would damn them. 

Dottore stayed quiet, only for a moment. Instead of answering the question, he asked another, “When did you and Tartaglia become so close?”

“He has been around the past three months. You have not.”

Dottore especially did not like that. He stared forward, mind whirring as he tried to process what you had said and the implications of it. Dottore had never made anything explicitly clear between the two of you but he had figured-

“Not like that, Dottore.”

Any other thought he might have had was gone, mind focusing on how you had addressed him. By his Harbinger title, you had never addressed him by that. It was always Zandik, you were the only one allowed to call him that, you were the only person he would revive that part of himself for. The name was dead to everybody else in the world except you. 

“Why did you call me that?” Dottore asked before he could stop himself. The coldness, the way you addressed him, your familiarity with Tartaglia, Dottore didn’t know what was going on. It couldn’t just be anger over the lost segment--it was just a segment, a piece of him but he was still there, there had to be more that he was missing.

“Because Zandik is dead,” you said, and yet again, Dottore was grateful for his mask because his brow was furrowing and his eyes were squinted as he tried to figure out what you meant. “You killed him.”

Were you referring to the segment?

Dottore’s lips parted, he shut his eyes briefly as he shook his head, trying to clear his mind before speaking. “I am Zandik,” he spoke a sentence that he hadn’t spoken in years, and the forced acceptance ripped open a part of him that had long since been sealed away. Dottore tried to keep his breath steady, trying to split his attention between clearing up whatever this misunderstanding with you was and trying to close the reopened wound before it could cause serious damage. 

“No, you’re not.” It was like you weren’t even listening to him and Dottore could feel the frustration seeping onto his face. 

“I am,” Dottore snapped, but his anger would only fuel yours--he knew that from experience--so he tried to calm himself down. “I am Zandik,” he said it again. The wound ripped open more, too much for him to try to put back together while at the same time trying to figure out what he was missing. He would fix this with you, and then he would fix the wreck that had become his mental state. “What is going on? Why-”

“You killed him!” Your hands slammed down against the table, your voice a shout so loud that it echoed across the chamber the two of you stood in--outside the room, he heard Tartaglia draw closer to the door, alert. Dottore paused, staring at you--there was the anger, the hot anger that Dottore had expected from you, but he couldn’t find himself relieved at it. Instead, he only found himself even more stressed.

“You are talking about the segment,” he realized quietly, and your eyes flared at his words, angrier. But Dottore was lost because he expected you to be angry but he didn’t expect it to be like this. He didn’t expect it to-

“You killed him, Dottore,” your voice cracked over your words, and Dottore tried to step around the table toward you but you drew back as soon as he started to move. His throat felt tight at the rejection but he tried to ignore it--impossible, the wound tore more, gaping and open.

Dottore shook his head again, slowly this time, as he tried to figure out what to say to calm you down. “The segment was me,” he tried to keep his voice soft, but Dottore was not a soft man. “I’m still here. He was just me, but younger, and-”

“He was not-”

“He was-” His voice rose, anger and frustration, and maybe just a hint of desperation to get you to listen to him as he realized what exactly the issue was. You had never considered the segments as extensions of him. They had been individuals, separate people. He should have realized it from the way you spoke about some of them but he was never around enough when you were talking to the segments to have the pieces to put it together and he was so set in his own mindset that they were simply extensions to realize you felt differently. “He was me. I’m him. Let’s-”

“He was you before you turned into this,” your words were sharp and venomous, acid dripping into the open wound. Dottore drew back, not speaking for a moment as he watched you, waiting for you to elaborate on what you meant. 

You did not, chest heaving and eyes welled with tears as you stared at him. If Dottore wanted an explanation, he would have to ask but he didn’t even know if he wanted an explanation.

“And what is ‘this’?” Dottore couldn’t stop himself from asking, time seemed still around the two of you as he waited for an answer. 

“Look at what you’ve turned into, Zandik. All of these odd experiments and heretical ideas, you’ve become a-”

“A monster.”

Dottore stared at you and internally he was scrambling, trying to get control of all of the unwelcome emotions before they could become visible on his face. The wound that had been opened had torn past the point of being able to close back up, it had torn through all of the other closed wounds and ripped all of them open too, leaving him bare and vulnerable and bleeding out and there was nothing he could do. He had to leave, or he had to get you to leave so he could get himself under control.

“I see,” he said, his voice was colder than he intended for it to be, maybe that was for the best. “I never should have let you get attached to them.”

Logically, he could rationalize it—how you had managed to get so attached, that is. Parts of Dottore had died over the years, the parts of him that had been softer and vulnerable. Or he supposed they hadn’t died if the reopened wounds he was struggling to patch back up had anything to say about it, but they had been locked away so deep that they might as well have been dead.

Segments like the Iota segment, and even the Zeta and Theta segment, to some extent, did not have the same high walls that the older segments of Dottore had. You were able to access a part of him through those segments that you wouldn’t ordinarily be able to through himself. Dottore had been hesitant about the idea at first but it had kept him from having to open up his own old wounds so he figured it was for the best. 

Logically, he could rationalize it but he simply could not understand it. Because if it was just a matter of being able to access that part of him, Dottore would figure it out. He would, for you, if it meant this argument would end. 

But it didn’t seem as if it was just a matter of being able to access that part of him. It was deeper. It was the segment itself, not its connection to Dottore. And Dottore couldn’t understand how an artificially made clone of his younger self was causing this to happen. He didn’t understand why you had gotten so attached to it when he was right there.

Right there? His mind flew back to all of the times he had left you with the Iota segment, or the Theta or Zeta segments. Separate bodies, almost completely different personalities from him—you didn’t have the same mental connection that he had with his segments, was it really so hard to believe that you started to view them as individuals rather than extensions of himself?

You scoffed almost instantly at his words, drawing him back to the conversation at hand, and he knew he had spoken wrong but he was already overwhelmed piecing together just how much he had misunderstood between you and your relationships with his segments that he couldn’t bring himself to acknowledge the mistake. 

Dottore was not a master of deciphering emotions, he was far from it in fact. But he remembered the nights he’d come home late from the labs to find the Iota segment curled up asleep in your arms, how you would dote on him in a way no one in Dottore’s life had ever done before. 

The pieces had been laid out for him but Dottore just hadn’t realized it.

“I can think of a lot of things you shouldn’t have done,” snide and derisive, Dottore’s jaw tightened at your words, and you were watching him. You were searching for something but Dottore didn’t know what it was--Dottore had never been the best at reading people, but he was usually able to make up for it just by using sheer logic. This would not be the case here with you. He didn’t know what you were looking for, and he didn’t know how to make this better--not for himself, and not for you, or the two of you together.

Evidently, you did not find whatever you were looking for and Dottore’s lips finally parted from the thin line he had them pressed in as you shook your head and walked away without another word. He tried to force the words past his lips but they got caught in the back of his throat.

Dottore had always been a prideful and arrogant man but he thought he’d be able to set it aside for you, just this once. But maybe it wasn’t a matter of pride or arrogance, he realized, because his heart was erratic in his chest as you walked away, eyes wide beneath his mask. It was a matter of not knowing what to say. 

Dottore had never been someone who found himself at a loss for words. One way or another, he would always be able to talk his way out of a situation—but now, staring at your back as you made your way out of the room, not even bothering to shut the door behind you, his mind was blank. Numb.

He felt numb. 

Your words mixed with his parents, his parents mixed with the other villagers in his old town, the villagers mixed with the students at the Akademiya and the students mixed with the scholars. And then it was your voice again, loud, damning, finally calling him for what he was after all of the years you had spent with him. 

He was not Il Dottore in that moment, he was Zandik--the child that was run from his hometown and scarred by his own parents for showing interests that were considered heretical to the traditional village elders; the student at the Akademiya who had tried, at first, before giving up and throwing himself into his research when he was faced with the same rejection again and again and again and again; the student who had decided if he couldn’t be accepted, then he might as well go to whatever lengths necessary to at least be successful.

He watched as Tartaglia peeled off the wall to walk with you, he watched as his fingers grazed your back--a sort of reassuring gesture that seemed too natural to be of any comfort to Dottore, and he watched as you turned your head to the side to look at Tartaglia, speaking quietly before the two of disappeared down a different hallway. You didn’t look back once. 

And when he finally looked away from where you had left, eyes falling on the dark window that led to the palace courtyard, Dottore swore that it was his youngest-self staring back at him, vindictive and satisfied, his last words echoing in Dottore’s head louder than all of the rest of them. 

[harrysfolklore]

lando norris being down bad for his girlfriend: a compilation

summary: lando norris can’t help but talk about his girlfriend whenever he cans, fans make compilation videos about it

MASTERLIST | MY PATREON

Lando Norris could be described as someone who's not scared of saying whatever crossed his mind.

And that's why he never, ever, missed the opportunity to talk about his girlfriend whenever he had the chance.

He mentioned her during interviews, press conferences, social media post and even fan interactions. To the point where fans started making compilation videos with all the moments he publicly obsessed over his girlfriend.

The most popular one gathered millions of views on YouTube, showing multiple occasions Lando couldn't help but be down bad for her.

The video started with a clip from Q&A with fans, someone asked him about his favorite way to relax after a race. Without missing a beat, Lando replied, "Cuddling up with my girlfriend, of course. Nothing beats that."

"You're really whipped man, It's embarrassing," Oscar, his teammate, teased beside him, making the audience laugh.

"It's not, really." Lando shrugged proudly.

The next clip was taken from McLaren's Tiktok account, their content creator tried to do the "Can you watch my ___ for a second" prank on Lando.

"Oh my girlfriend already did this prank to me," Lando said, laughing at the camera, "Baby, If you're watching this, I miss you. Your pranks are way better than McLaren's"

The video moved to show Lando during a post-qualifying interview, his suit hanging by his waist and his fireproofs showing, when asked about his strategy for the race, he cheekily replied, "Well, first I'm going to call my girlfriend for some good luck wishes. Then, I'll focus on getting to the front."

"Zak Brown should hire your girlfriend as your strategist then," the interviewer joked.

"That would be great but I don't think we would be getting any job done. You know what they say about mixing business with pleasure."

The next clip showed Lando with his friend and fellow driver Max Fewtrell, playing a trivia game about how well did they knew each other. Max had to answer what was Lando's worst habit.

"I'm going to say leaving dirty plates around the house," he said, showing his board, "You do mate, admit it."

"My girlfriend would agree on that," he admitted, "She's always complaining about it."

"I don't know how she's still living with you."

"Because she loves me, and I would die if she leaves me."

On the same note, a video of Oscar teasing Lando followed right after.

"Who's most likely to snore?" Lando read the question, and Oscar quickly put ut the cutout with Lando's face, "How are you so sure? You didn't even hesitate."

"Mate, I've heard you, plus your girlfriend literally complained about not being able to sleep properly last night because you kept snoring."

"I did keep her up last night, but it wasn't just because of the snoring," Lando said, a cheeky grin on his face.

"Put the not safe for work disclaimer at the beginning of this video please."

The next segment was from Lando's own Youtube channel, he was doing a little vlog in Miami before the race weekend.

"Hi everyone," he said, filming himself in the mirror with his camera, "Today I'm back with another LandoLog, I'm going to be filming some behind the scenes of this Miami weekend, so without further ado, let's go," he moved the camera around, focusing on his girlfriend who was putting some mascara on her eyelashes, "Here's my beautiful girl, who takes ages to get ready. Say hi baby."

"Hi everyone," his girlfriend waved, laughing, "I'm not taking ages, I'm just making sure I look good."

"You always look good for me," Lando said, giving her a quick kiss on the cheek before turning the camera back to himself, "See, I told you she's the best."

The next clip showed Lando and Oscar together once again, this time they were giving a tour around the McLaren hub.

"This is my driver's room," Lando said as he opened the door, "It's cleaner than Oscar's, clearly, and looks like I have a bed."

Lando moved to put together the small bed that was behind the door, "This is an upgrade from last year, we didn't have this. I'll be definitely giving it some good use, to nap or with my girlfriend."

"Can we have a video where you're not a horndog please?" Oscar said, putting his hands on his hips.

"You're the horndog, I never said what we were going to use it for, we're just going to cuddle."

The video moved to show one of Lando's post race interviews after winning the Miami GP, he had been asked ho would be the most excited person about this win besides him.

"My girlfriend, definitely. I couldn't have done it without her," Lando said, his voice filled with emotion, "She's been my biggest supporter, my inspiration, and my motivation. This win is as much hers as it is mine."

The video then cut to a scene from Lando's gaming stream with Max Verstappen. The two drivers were deep into a game of Call of Duty, their banter and laughter filling the screen. Lando was focused, his eyes glued to the monitor as he coordinated with Max.

Just then, Lando's phone buzzed on the table beside him. He glanced at the screen and his expression softened, the comment section noticing, "Hey, mate, I need to go. My girl needs me for something," he said, setting down his controller.

"Lando! Are you serious right now?" Max said, his eyes still glued to the screen.

"I am, see ya," he turned to the camera, smiling not so apologetically "Sorry, guys, duty calls. See you next time."

The last scene was a snippet from an interview, Lando had been asked what he saw in his future.

He paused, a soft smile playing on his lips. "Honestly? I see a lot of racing, hopefully some championships," he laughed, "but most importantly, I see her. I can't imagine my life without her."

The screen faded to black, showing a text that read: Get you a man who is as down for you as Lando Norris is for his girlfriend.

[imaginaryf1shots]

Soulmate | Max Verstappen Ver.

WC: 4.1K

Max x journalist!reader

Summery: you live in a world where soulmates exist, and until you find yourself, you only see in black and white.

Warnings: none?

Masterlist

Max Masterlist

Lewis Ver. , Oscar Ver. , Charles Ver.

In a world where everyone is born seeing black and white, the promise of seeing colour is on everyone's mind. The key to unlocking the colours is your soulmate. Meeting their eyes will make you be able to see all the hues and shades of the world. Those who see colours describe it so beautifully. People usually discover their soulmates between the age of 18 and 25, some earlier and some later. However, some people start to lose hope when year after year passes and no colour is introduced into their lives.

You have lived your life hoping and believing that one day, a single glance will change your world. But as you've hit your adult years and not a single colour, you've lost hope, all your friends and family see colour already, even your 13 year old cousin. So you just came to terms with seeing life in monochrome. You just focused on your career, building it up and making something of yourself.

You've worked in a few sports before, football, tennis before you moved to motorsport, starting with NASCAR then Formula 2 and here you are now after two months in Formula 2 you've been promoted to Formula 1. The world of formula 1 is very fast-paced, and you find yourself deep in it, watching old races and interviews and races. The sport intrigued you, the races, the adrenaline, the drama.

Due to your easy going nature, and how you can get people comfortable, you've been made to interview the drivers for a new segment for F1TV, a room was giving to you on track and each week you sit down for a long interview with two drivers.

“I just don't understand. Why won't you try it?” You heard your mum's voice through your phone's speaker. Rolling your eyes at her words as you got ready for the day. “Don't roll your eyes at me.”

You sigh and wonder how she always knows when you do that. “Mum, I told you, I don't want to.”

“I just don't get why, I've heard of so many stories of people being happy after they try it.”

“Mum, please, I'm busy with work, I don't have time for any of this.” You exasperated.

“That excuse died a long time ago.” Your mum fought back.

“Mum, I love you, but you just don't get it, so please just leave me be.” 

“I only say this because I care about-”

“You don't understand, and you never well, okay, you found dad when you were 19, you've found him and you never had to go on dates for people who lost or gave up, and yes I kind of lost hope, I'm not getting my hopes up anymore, but it kills me, why do I not have a soulmate, everyone I know already found theirs and I hear about it all the time, I'm lonely, I'm extremely lonely, even when I'm out with friends when we have family gatherings I'm lonely, and I heat about colours and shades and all I see is grey, so don't try to enterfer anymore please, just let me be.”

There was a long moment of silence.

“I'm sorry, love.” Was all she could say in the end. “I didn't realise.”

“I know you didn't.” Your voice sounded defeated. “I have a to go, I'll talk to you later.”

“Okay, honey, talk to you later.”

Your conversation with your mother left you feeling down and unmotivated.

This weekend, you'd be interviewing Alex Albon and Max Verstappen. Alex came first, and you sat down in front of the cameras for the lengthy interview. The set was cozy, and Alex was a blast to interview. You talked about racing to his pets, to golf, to his dreams, and so on. Alex is funny and easy to talk to you, so the interview went smoothly, and he didn't stop talking, and it all just flowed easy between the two of you. Even with your bad mood, you still enjoyed your time, and your mood got better.

After Alex left with a quick hug, you were told that Verstappen would be coming a bit later than anticipated, so you'd have 45 minutes between the interviews. That time, you and the crew took a break and ate some food before you had to be ready once more for the reigning world champion. And right before he came in, one of the crew rushed in and went straight to you and the producer.

"Max is apparently in a very bad mood. The media panel today was a disaster." He told the two of you, your eyes met the producers in worry. You've seen interviews of angry Max, and you weren't looking forward to interviewing him, not after the morning you had.

"I thought we only had drivers without the panel for the week?" You asked, confused.

"I did, too. There must've been a mix-up either with us or his schedule." The producer told you. "What was he asked?"

"Uh, they asked about him not finding his soulmate, and if it's maybe a sign that he's meant to be alone." You and the producer gasped at the rude question, of course his mood was soured, you don't ask or speak about people who haven't found their soulmates like that, you knew the pain of not finding your other half very well, and it's always painful to constantly asked about if you found them. "They even asked if he thinks his mood will get better once he does and if he'll calm down."

"Wow, that's just, that's so rude." The producer said and looked at you. Everyone knows you haven't found yours as well. The producer gave you a smile and patted your shoulder. "Don't worry and just stay calm. Our questions aren't intrusive or uncatting. We don't have anything about his love life.”

“You're right.” You nod to yourself in encouragement.

Max walks in with his entourage, his press officer walks over to you and the producer, she tells you to just jump into the interview seeing as he ran late to come here and he has other things he needs to do after.

You glance at the driver as he gets mic-ed up. Max's presence was imposing, his haw was set, and his eyes were hard. You could feel his mood even from a distance. The producer hurried you along.

You sat on the comfortable sofa, you try out the sofas each week to make sure it's comfortable for the drivers, as the sport light was on you. You introduced yourself with a fake smile, glancing at Max for a second before looking at your notes.

"Good afternoon, Max." You started calming your racing heart by saying to yourself that this is just an interview. "Thank you for taking the time to speak with us today. How are you feeling about this weekend's race?"

"It's going to be a challenging race, but I'm confident." Max's expression remained guarded, but he responded as calmly as he could. "The team has done a great job, as we're well-prepared."

"That's always good to hear." You replied, keeping your tone light. Maybe this won't be too bad. "This track has a lot of history. Do you have any special memories or moments here that stand out to you?"

"Definitely, this was one of the first tracks I raced in in Formula 1." Max's gaze softened, and yet again, your eyes just looked all over his face not meeting his eyes, even in monochrome you couldn't deny how good looking he is, you wondered what colour his hair is, it looks soft.

"It's a very demanding track, but once you get it right, it's very rewarding."

"That's wonderful." You nodded, feeling the tension ease just a bit. "Now, moving away from racing for a moment, how do you usually unwind during the season? Especially with such a long season, do you have any hobbies or activities that help you relax?"

As you asked the question, you looked up, meeting Max's eyes for the first time. In that split second, and as you blinked, everything changed. The world around you, previously in grayscale blur, just erupted into vibrant, breathtaking colour. Starting from Max's eyes, their shades the first thing you've seen, and moving to the color of his clothes, the sofa and everything around you, everything has come to life in a way you've never experienced before. Max's eyes warm and held an expression mirroring your own.

Max blinked, and in an instant, his stern an slightly annoyed façade/mood broke, a genuine smile that he never had before broke across his face.

"I-uh." He cleared his throat to try and regain some of his composure after the revelation he just had, both your eyes meeting and not straying from each other. "I enjoy spending time with my family and friends." He said, his voice softer, almost as if he was speaking to you alone. "I also spend a lot of time sim racing and gaming with my friends, a bit of FIFA here and there."

Like Max, you could hardly believe what had happened, fighting to maintain your composure, you continue a smile tugging at your lips. "That sounds like a lot of fun. Do you ever play FIFA with other drivers? I imagine it would get pretty competitive."

"Yes, we do, sometimes." Max chuckled, the tension between the two of you completely dissolved to the amazement of everyone behind the cameras. "It's always a good time, and it definitely gets competitive. We take it seriously, even though it's just for fun."

The crew keeps exchanging confused glances unaware of the profound shift that had occurred. You force yourself to focus on the next question, the vibrant colours making everything around you feel surreal.

“Speaking of competition, if you weren’t a Formula 1 driver, what other career path do you think you might have taken?” You asked, genuinely curious.

Max leaned back, considering the question. “I’ve always been passionate about sports, so maybe something related to that, like engineering or coaching. I enjoy working closely with a team and seeing how everything comes together.”

“That’s really interesting.” You said, nodding. “It shows how much you value teamwork and the technical aspects of the sport.”

“What about you?” Max asks, and you look at him confused. “If you weren't a journalist, what would you want to be?”

“Oh, since I choose sports and have been surrounded by it for years, I think I'd be a sportswoman.” You tell him with a smile. “You're lucky, I'm too old to get into karting.”

“Guess, if you were into karting, we would've met years ago.” You knew what he meant. You could've met your soulmate years ago if you'd been in karting. 

“I guess so.” You try not to think about the what ifs as you ask the last question. “One last question that we ask to every driver, what advice would you give to young aspiring drivers who look up to you?”

Max’s eyes met yours again, a spark of connection undeniable between you. “I’d tell them to stay focused and never give up. It’s a tough journey, but if you’re passionate and willing to work hard, you can achieve your dreams. It’s important to stay dedicated, even when things get tough.”

“Great advice, Max. Thank you so much for your time. It’s been a pleasure talking with you.” You concluded, barely able to contain the smile spreading across your face.

Max smiled back, the warmth in his eyes unmistakable. “Thank you. It’s been great speaking with you, too.”

The interview wrapped up, but as the revelation between the two lf you lingered you didn't want to leave, after so many years of guessing who your soulmate be and almost giving up entirely you didn't want to be apart from even for a second.

Max may seem tough to people, strong and determined, but he's spent nights dreaming of when he'd finally meet you. His thoughts lately have been of self doubt, maybe everyone is right, and the reason he hadn't met you yet is that he doesn't deserve you. He's too hot-headed, too aggressive. But here you are, proving him and everyone who doubted him wrong.

The crew, oblivious to the transformation, began packing up the equipment, their chatter and movements a blur in your colourful new world.

Max turned to you, his demeanour noticeably lighter, a subtle smile still playing on his lips. 

“I don’t have my phone with me.” Max managed to find his voice, his voice softer now, almost tentative. “Could I borrow yours for a moment?”

“Of course.” You replied, your voice trembling slightly as you handed him your phone.

He took it with a nod of thanks and quickly entered his number, calling his own phone to ensure that he'll be able to contact you after the day is over. When he handed your phone back, your fingers brushed, and an electric jolt shot through you, confirming the profound connection. As if the colours weren't enough, the electric feeling that went through you is a confirmation. Max left the room with a lingering look at you.

The crew, sensing something unusual but unable to pinpoint it, exchanged puzzled glances. One of your colleagues approached, and his brow furrowed in confusion. 

“What just happened?” He asked, his tone laced with curiosity. “Did you two know each other before?”

You struggled to keep your emotions in check, a smile fighting to break free. “No, we just...connected.” You said, unable to find the right words to describe the whirlwind of emotions and the explosion of colour that had transformed your world.

Max left the room and started to look around, as if he's seeing everything for the first time and in a sense he was. He took in the colours that have been described to him many times before, he looked to the sky and saw the blue everyone described, he saw a few trees and saw the green leaves and the brown trunk. Everything looked so different now.

The rest of the day you both got questions and buzzed looks from those working with you, both your moods are good and it's not wavering, it's not changing. The realisation of what had happened, of finding your soulmate in such an unexpected place, left you reeling.

Later, as the paddock began to empty and the sun dipped below the horizon, casting long shadows across the vibrant landscape, as you stood and watched your first colourful sunset, you received a message from Max.

Meet me after you finish work. We need to talk.

Time could couldn’t go by fast enough, you kept looking at your phone waiting for Max to tell you where you'd meet  you had finished your work for the day, but work for F1 drivers take kuchen longer than yours. Every moment stretched into eternity as you waited for it to end. As you looked at the sun from the top of the FIA hospitality, you wished Max was with you enjoying your first sunset together. You dont know Max, you know if Max, but you've never met before today, but you feel like you do. It feels like everything is alright, like the world is finally tilted the right way, gravity is finally working.

come to redbull motorhome.

You made the jounry from the FIA building to redbull, right as you reached through building Max came out and gestured for you to come in, trying not to be seen by fans or cameras. He made you walk in front of him, his hand on your back as he guided you. You feel the heat, and even the electricity was evident through the layers of your clothes, you relaxed instantly to his toutch, leaning back into it. Max sighed. It felt like he could toutch you skin to skin, the feeling vibrated through him filling him up.

Max led you to his room. From the tours you've seen other teams do, Max's room looked the best. You both sat on the sofa facing each other. Your eyes were just taking the other in, Max's hair was ruffled, as if he ran his hand through it a lot. You took in his eyes, which you now know are blue, his nose the shape of his jaw, yhe frekle on his lips, you're trying to memorise him. Tattoo him into your mind.

Max took your hand in his, and you wonder if the feeling of electricity will remain forever or will it fade with time. You both close your eyes for a moment. 

“Did you have a good day?” You asked softly after you opened your eyes.

“It didn't start ikay, but there's something that made my day, my week, my life.” Max replied, his voice gentle. You couldn't fight the smile that took over your face. There was a moment of silence, each of you searching for the right words to express the whirlwind of emotions you were feeling.

“I can’t believe what happened earlier.” You began, your voice filled with wonder and disbelief. “I never thought... I had almost given up on finding my soulmate.”

Max nodded, his expression thoughtful. “Me too. I’ve been so focused on racing, I started to think that maybe it wasn’t going to happen for me. But then I saw you, and everything changed.”

You leaned closer, it wasn't a conscious decision, but you were feeling the warmth of his presence. “I’ve been living in black and white for so long, I forgot what it felt like to hope. And now, it’s like... like everything has come alive.”

Max squeezed your hand, sending a familiar electric thrill through you, a reminder of the bond you had discovered. “I know exactly what you mean. I’ve been so caught up in my career, I stopped looking for anything else. But today, meeting you... it’s like the world has finally made sense.” You smiled, your heart swelling with a mixture of relief and joy. “It’s amazing, isn’t it? How we can go from feeling like we’re missing something, to finding everything in a single moment.”

“I’m so glad we found each other. It’s like a dream come true, one I never thought I’d get to experience.” Max’s gaze softened, his eyes reflecting the same vibrant colors that now filled your world.

You squeezed his hand, feeling the connection deepening with each passing second. “I’m happy too. I was beginning to think that maybe it wasn’t meant for me, that maybe I’d never see the world in colour. But now, being here with you... it feels like everything was leading up to this.”

Max’s smile widened, and he leaned closer, his hand still holding yours. “I know we’ve just met, but I feel like I’ve known you forever. It’s like... like we were always meant to find each other, no matter what.”

You nodded, tears of happiness welling up in your eyes. “I feel the same way. It’s like all the waiting. All the wondering was worth it because it brought me to you.”

He gently wiped away a tear that had escaped down your cheek, his touch tender and reassuring. “We have a lot to look forward to.” he said softly. “And I can’t wait to experience everything in colour, either you.” 

You leaned into his touch, your heart filled with a warmth you had never known before. “Me too, Max. I’m so grateful we found each other, even if it took a bit longer than we expected. It was worth the wait.”

He pulled you into a gentle embrace, the world around you fading into a blur of colour and emotion. For the first time in your life, you felt complete, the missing piece of your heart finally found.

As you sat there in his room, the noise from outside faddws away and a that mattered was that you found each other.

Later that week on Sunday, you find yourself in the media pen, Max wasn't on the podium after contact with another driver on track, Max wasn't amused, he hated losing, he was clearly not satisfied. The frustration was evident in his clenched jaw and the tense set of his shoulders as he made his way through the sea of microphones and cameras, his responses curt and tinged with irritation. The incident with another driver had cost him the win, and you could already sense the frustration simmering in the air.

Finally, it was your turn. As he approached, you could see the tension in his posture, the anger still simmering just below the surface. You offered a gentle smile, hoping to soften his mood.

“Hi, Max. Tough race today.” You began, keeping your voice calm and understanding. “Can you walk us through what happened out there?”

Max sighed, his expression strained but slightly less harsh as he met your gaze. “Yeah, it wasn’t great. We were doing well, but then there was contact with another car, and that threw everything off. It’s frustrating because we had a good chance of winning.”

You nodded, listening intently. “I can understand how disappointing that must be. Can you tell us more about the incident? What exactly happened?”

He glanced around, his irritation still evident but less intense than before. “He was going for an overtake, and I thought I had enough room, but we ended up colliding. It cost us a lot of time and positions. It’s just... frustrating.”

Your heart went out to him. You wanted to offer some comfort, to show him that you understood his frustration. Max was leaning his hands on the barrier so you subtly reached out and touched his hand, a gentle, reassuring gesture. He glanced down, surprised, and when he looked back up at you, his eyes had softened.

“I’m really sorry to hear that, Max.” You said, your voice filled with genuine concern. “It must be tough to end the race this way after all the hard work you and the team put in.”

He took a deep breath, his expression relaxing a bit more. “Yeah, it’s not the result we wanted, but that’s racing. We’ll learn from this and come back stronger. Thanks for understanding.”

You offered a supportive smile, your hand still resting lightly on his. “I’m sure you will. You’ve always shown great resilience. What’s the plan moving forward from here?”

Max’s mood seemed to lighten further, the tension visibly easing from his shoulders. “We’ll go back, analyze what happened, and make sure we’re better prepared for the next race. It’s important to keep looking forward.”

“Absolutely.” You agreed, your voice encouraging. “One setback doesn’t define you or the team. You’ve got a lot of races ahead, and I’m sure we’ll see you back on the top soon.”

He smiled, a genuine warmth in his eyes. “Thanks. It means a lot to hear that.”

As the interview wrapped up, Max’s demeanor was noticeably calmer. The frustration from earlier had dulled, replaced by a quiet determination. He glanced at you, a hint of gratitude in his expression.

“Thanks for the interview.” He said, his voice softer once the mic was out of his face. “And for... you know, understanding.”

You smiled back, your heart lifting. “Anytime, Max. I’m sure the next race will be better.”

He nodded, his gaze lingering on you for a moment longer before he turned to leave. Max will always be grateful for you. He's known you for a couple days, and you both spent all of your free time together and texting whenever you could. He felt like you understood the highs and lows of racing making him bind with you more. You understood sport and how everything can change in a second.

For now, the disappointment of the day was behind him, and the promise of future victories lay ahead. And in that brief, quiet moment, you had been able to offer a bit of comfort, a reminder that even in the toughest times, there’s always a reason to look forward.

Max accidently said he sees colour in one of the interviews a few months later, and so the hunt for his soulmate has begun. Thankfully, since you work in F1, you weren't suspected, and so you were able to keep your privacy. For a while.

During winter break, photos of you were released to the public, and the fans have gone wild. Every single interaction you've had was cut and edited. And the moment your eyes met went viral all over social media, in the F1 sphere and outside of it.

For you and Max, you're both just glad you finally found your other half. That you don't have to go through this world alone.

Vote for the next one

Maintaglist

@gnatthefly . @mochimommy2002 . @llando4norris . @mrswolffs-blog . @barcelonaloverf1life . @c-losur3 . @xoscar03

[maxwellatoms]

They left me no choice.

The animation industry is an absolute trash fire right now, and TBH... I don't think it's going to recover. Not in a form I recognize, anyway.

I could go on all day about the self-hating monster that is the Animation Business, but I've said it all before. Right now, none of the major studios are making much of anything, and almost all of what they are making is "library content". I'm currently doing storyboard revisions alongside a number of other former producers and directors, and I'm lucky to have the work. Once all of the mismanagement and the mergers get sorted, though, there should be plenty of room for more mismanagement and mergers. And the A.I. Don't forget the A.I.

It seems that I either give myself over fully to the souring corporate teat in the hopes that I can pretend that I still live in a world where "the grind" matters. Or I take a risk and make one big push to do... something.

First up:

Billy & Mandy vs. The Entertainment Industry:

This is my interview/reality/documentary show on the making of The Grim Adventures of Billy & Mandy from stem to stern. I'll be talking to as many people as I can who worked on the show about all sorts of different parts of the process. We'll definitely get to voice actors, but the first segment is probably going to be about Billy & Mandy's pre-history and the Big Pick Weekend.

The Upward Expedition:

This is my pick for my indie show. I have a bible. I have a decade of ideas. Time to sit down and tell a story. I want to get some screen sharing going at some point. I'll definitely share artwork as well as the trials and tribulations of getting from There to Back Again.

I'd love to get a Discord server going and provide a place where people can talk about the stuff I'm making (and the entertainment industry in general). I still have enough Billy & Mandy swag left that I'm sure I'll factor that stuff in as well.

In the immediate future, the funding goes to securing a space to do the interviews and probably to banking money for voice actors. I'm still deciding on my update schedule, but it should start in earnest next week.

I'm excited. Pretty scared... but also excited.

More updates to come. Definitely let me know if there's anything specific you'd like to see on the Patreon!

As always, thanks for sticking around!

[januaryembrs]

MAGIC BROWNIE | Eddie Munson x Sunshine!Reader

Description: Sunshine girl accidentally eats one of Eddie’s “Magic Brownies” and he takes care of his baked girlfriend.

Word count: 3.3k

Trigger Warnings: weed obviously, accidental drug usage, quick mention of child neglect when talking about Eddie as a kid not eating enough. Reader gets undressed but no sex (eddie has a horny thought however)

main masterlist

This was not how he had expected their day to go. She loved baking for him and Wayne, loved making sure her scrawny, lanky boyfriend was fed, and boy could he eat. Wayne swore he had the stomach(s) of a cow. Any food left on his plate? Give it to Eds. Food ready to go out of date? Nope, Eds is already scarfing it down. Weekly food shop was just brought in? Munson is dining like a king before the fridge door is even open.

Maybe it was from when he lived with his dad and he would forget to feed the little, jet black haired boy for days on end and he would have to be given half his teacher’s lunch when they saw how gaunt he was through his mop of curls. Maybe he had yet to adjust to the idea that he would still have food without storing it for winter like a damn bear, either way she never dared to think about her sweet Eds and his kind uncle going hungry on weeks when money was tight.

But when dessert became an option, Eddie’s sweet tooth was in heaven.

They had the house to themselves on Sundays; Wayne was always pulling doubles on a weekend to make up the extra cash, the garage was always busiest then. They already had leftovers from last night to sort them for the evening, so what else better than to cook than a thick tray of rich brownies she’d practised not even a week earlier.

Unbeknownst to her, Eddie had done his own kind of baking.

“Okay, be there for seven,” He said into the corded phone, biting at his nail as he thought. Nodding to himself, before remembering they couldn’t see him, he hummed a goodbye and hung up the phone.

“Who was that?” She asked, emerging from the loo with freshly wet hands, wiping them on her jeans as she tied the pretty little pink apron around her waist again. Watching her lean down to open the oven door, he smiled to himself, handing her the matching oven mitts.

“No one,” He muttered, shamelessly watching her ass as she bent down to pick out the hot tray, “Just got a package to drop off later,”

“What, like to the post office?” She asked, her eyes flicking to him innocently, shoving the pan out for him to smell.

Smiling toothily at her, as if he knew a secret she didn’t, he kissed her forehead sweetly. “Where else would I take a package, sweet girl?” He murmured, before shoving his finger in the centre of the chocolatey goodness with a childish raspberry blown through his cherry lips.

Hissing when his finger met the hot sugar in the centre, he shoved the digit into his mouth with a groan of delight and pain.

“It’s still hot, honey,” She scolded, putting the tray onto the side to assist the frowning boy.

“You’re still hot, baby,” He said, his words distorted by his finger being in the way of his tongue. Pulling it from his mouth, she inspected the spit covered skin carefully, seeing where it raised red slightly.

Giggling at his words, she kissed the tip gently, unaware of the way his eyes seemed to follow the way her mouth pressed to his burn so carefully, feeling his tummy shiver at his girlfriend's pure actions.

“Feel better Eds?” She asked, looking up at him with hopeful eyes, his tongue going dry immediately. His chin bobbed for a second, scrambling for words, before he nodded wordlessly, turning away from her before she could see the way his cheeks blazed a rosy heat of their own.

“Um, I just gotta-” He stammered, heading for his room as she pulled out a sharp knife to cut the slab into segments. His mouth was dry as he dug out the brownies he’d made himself two days prior, though these weren’t as chocolatey as his sweet girlfriend’s and more rammed to high (ha) heavens full of weed.

Did he prefer the taste of hers? Yes, any day of the week she was an amazing cook. Had he burnt the top and left a thick crust whilst somehow managing to undercook the middle? Yes, though he was still at odds with himself just how he’d done so. But were his little gooey creations going to see him and Wayne through two weeks of rent? Absolutely.

Dashing back to the kitchen with the blue tupperware under his arm, he stopped long enough to see her transferring them into some kitchen paper inside her own container, her fingers gentle enough to carve ice let alone handle confectionery.

“I’ll be right back, just gotta take care of some things. How about I swing by Family Video on the way back and rent us The Shining?” He asked, a large, scuffed hand coming up to her face to cup her cheek, brushing away the flour that dusted her eyebrow.

She scrunched up her nose, but kept his doe gaze nevertheless, big, Bambi browns staring down at her, entranced.

“I dunno, Eds. I like those films but they always make me wanna puke afterwards,” She said, lips twisting in disgust, “Plus I get kinda scared when Wayne’s not home anyway, I don’t wanna be thinking of crazy axe wielders. Hawkins is crazy enough as it is,”

Putting the tupperware on the side, next to her pretty pink one, he took her warm cheeks in his grasp and tugged her face closer.

“Which is where I come and hold your hair back and protect you from the intruders, silly girl,” He asked, a kiss going to the tip of her nose, “What does my lady want instead then? Gremlins?” Another to her forehead, “The Lost Boys?” There goes another to her chin of all places, “Labyrinth? Come on, I know you have the hots for Bowie as a Goblin King ya’ little freak,” He blew a raspberry on the apple of her cheek, a big wet kiss following it.

Giggling some more and shoving him away, rubbing her face on her shoulder, “How about E.T?” She asked, her hands coming to rest on his wrists.

He stilled, eyes wide with his own grimace. “E.T? Now that’s a scary movie,” He said, watching his girlfriend roll her eyes and smirk, “I’m serious. That wrinkly mother fucker gave me nightmares, with his extendable neck and his weird eyes and shit-”

“Alright, alright, Labyrinth it is.” She conceded, leaning on her toes to kiss him sweetly on the mouth, “I’ll still need you to hold my hand all night, alright Goblin King?” She asked, watching his cheeks flush as she leaned in closer to him, “Movie night rules, unfortunately,”

He couldn’t remember if he’d said anything, just that his mouth had moved in some kind of agreeing motion, his eyes trained on the way she licked her pretty lips as she leaned in for another kiss. Two years together and she still had his heart hammering away behind his ribcage whenever she kissed him.

He barely remembered getting in his van with the package, its hot pink lip staring at him from the passenger seat, the thought of her shampoo smell invading his nose whenever she got so close he could see each individual pigment in her eye. He barely remembered dropping it off, other than taking the money and wishing his customer a good evening, “I know I will be,” He said under his breath, flooring it to Family Video.

“One Goblin King and empty hand at your request, fair maiden,” Eddie said, practically tumbling through the door, his van all but ditched in the driveway. Looking around for his sweet girlfriend, he furrowed his brow when he heard not even a peep in response. Usually she would be bouncing over to him with a kiss ready on her lips made just for him, maybe even a bowl of warm, buttery popcorn if he was really lucky.

But nothing.

Twitching the curtains, he made sure her car was in the drive, and just as he’d thought, she’d not left. So where in hell's gates was she?

“Baby?” He called through the small trailer, his panic starting to set in. Surely an intruder would have taken jewellery or money, not a whole woman for christ sakes. Maybe it was the past few years with the Lab being shut down for its dangerous radiation, or the talk of the Russian’s invading their little town, or even that Summer kids went missing from their friend’s pool party, he didn’t know. She was probably just waiting behind the door to jump out at him, or some dumb trick like that. She probably was just in his bedroom getting changed or something like that.

He had never moved through the little hallway so fast, hating how quiet it was.

His heart dropped when he saw his tiny room empty. His unmade bed that he had never seen looking smart sent him over the edge. Was there a struggle? Had his wardrobe door always open? Of course it was, he was a master of leaving things unfinished. He’d leave a sandwich without filling if he wasn’t always so damn hungry. No, he was being silly. There was nothing off about his room, nothing that screamed kidnap other than the god damn silence- why was it so damn quiet-

Then he heard a creak from the bathroom, and it was like his chest took a xanax. “You in there, honey?” He called, doubling back on himself to stand outside the white door, leaning in closer to hear inside. Hearing still no response, he practically melded with the wood, cheek squished against the cold wall, “Baby?”

Nothing, nothing but slight movement from the other side.

Huffing, he reached for the handle, “I’m gonna come in, alright? I’m just checking you’re okay, I’m not a peeping Tom or anything-“

Their bathroom was tiny, was only there for usage over luxury, but it was cosy. Yet, it couldn’t have prepared Eddie for the odd sight. His girlfriend, seemingly playing with something in her hands, fully clothed in a half filled bath, her denim jeans submerged, socks still on her feet, top floating riding up to her chest with the water pressure.

Staring at the back of her head for a moment, the confusion clear on his face, he looked around for anything that could help explain the odd situation, before his eyes fell back on her.

“You alright, honey?” He asked, approaching her carefully, though it took all of one step to make it to the small, PVC tub. Her head lolled to rest against the wall, and she seemed to have only just noticed him standing there.

“Edsy!” She said, smiling dopily up at him, “I was wondering where you got off to,”

Chuckling unsurely, he rested his hand on top of her head, giving her a gentle stroke. “You alright there, Little Mermaid?”

She snorted, reaching up to show him her hands, “I was just painting my nails, see?” Except all he saw was red marker pen drawn over her fingertips, the nails more akin to a toddler coming home from preschool. Thinking she was kidding, he smirked.

“Beautiful baby-” He stopped himself, the smile dropping in an instant when he finally met her eyes. She went to look away, her hand holding the red crayola pen tightly to continue her artwork, but his hand shot out to grab her chin. “Wait, wait, wait. Look at me,” He swore he had never sounded so serious.

She blinked up at him after a moment, again as if taking a second to compute his order, and looked up at him with droopy lids. Smiling at him sweetly, his gaze locked in on her red corneas, bloodshot and absolutely baked expression.

“Baby, are you high? Did you go under my bed?” He asked seriously, turning her head to the streetlight filtering through the window to get a better look.

“Why would I do that, Eds?” She asked, her words drawling, quieting as she ended her sentence as if she hadn’t the energy to finish. “I just had a couple of the brownies I made and started feeling warm and didn’t wanna be sweaty when you got home-”

Hand flying to stroke his temple, he gently caressed his girlfriend’s face, understanding her issue. He must have taken the wrong fucking box.

“Oh baby, oh my sweet girl. I am so sorry.” Taking her head into his chest, he pressed a kiss to her parting. “I’ve spiked my own girlfriend, new fucking low Munson,”

“-ddie,” Her voice was muffled from his Hellfire shirt, “We gonna watch Jared?”

“Jareth, honey,” He sighed, looking down at his stoned girlfriend with a concealed smile. He felt guiltier than a sinner in church but god was she cute high. “Come on, let’s get you dry,”

Hoisting her out of the tub with his hands under her arms, he got her to take off her jeans and top as he held up a large bath towel as a curtain between the two of them, wanting to give her some level of privacy. Hearing her clothes hit the floor with a heavy thud, he wrapped her body with the big towel, feeling her hands in his hair as he helped her into his room, her feet shuffling obediently.

“Now the movie?” She asked, plopping herself down on the bed, her eyes lazily scanning over his walls of posters as if she wasn’t here three times a week. Digging around in his bottom draw for spare clothes, he tried to hide his snort as she nudged at his butt with her foot. “Eddie, now the movie?”

“Nearly, baby,” He said, handing her a grey shirt and boxers big enough to fit comfily on her. “Gonna get you a bit comfier first, I’ll make you some mac and cheese,”

“But I’m not hungry,” She said, tugging the shirt over her head with a whine, before flopping back, feeling dizzy, “You do the legs for me,”

“Huh?” Eddie asked, blushing when she spread her legs and gestured to him with the boxers in her hand.

“You do the legs, my head feels funny,” She mumbled, spreading her arms out on the bed, fingers digging into the fluffy duvet. He knew it was probably soft under her dulled touch.

Eddie and her had been intimate many times before. Hell, they’d had sex before they’d even reached the one month mark, but having her ask him to take her underwear off, even so innocently, had his face red as a saint.

“Alright, honey. I’m gonna make you feel better, get you some water.” He said, hoping she couldn’t feel how his hands shook as he slipped her underwear down her legs, avoiding looking at her private parts for her dignity’s sake, “And trust me you’ll want something to eat in an hour or two,”

“If you say so, Eds,” She murmured as he gently held her ankle to put her foot through the leg hole, doing the same to the other and pulling them over the meat of her thighs that had his mouth watering. Giving her knee a little kiss (he tried to stop himself, he did) he asked her to sit up a little so he could bring the underwear all the way up.

He couldn’t help give the softness of her stomach a kiss too as he rose to see how she was doing, smiling softly when he saw her sleepy eyes regard him with a little smile of her own.

“Tired?” He near whispered, stroking her warm cheeky with his knuckle gently. She shook her head, blinking harshly when it made her vision blurry.

“No, just feel funny,” She said, grabbing onto his wrist to keep his cool hands on her face, “But good funny. I think. Just funny,”

“How many did you have, baby?” He asked, holding onto her hand as she sat up, watching her head tip slightly at the movement, as if he could tell how heavy every part of her felt. He knew the stages of edible high well; he and Keith had been hooked on them in tenth grade, but his sweet girlfriend knew nothing about any of his ‘Magic Brownies’ he sold, and he’d intended to keep it that way until now.

“Two, I think. I think I had a bite of a third and I started feeling weird so I stopped. I thought I just had a lot of chocolate.” She said, head pressed against his shoulder as he led her to the kitchen, “Eddie, my feet are cold,”

“Oh, shit, your socks,” He cursed, heading towards the sofa. “I’ll fix you up, don’t worry honey,” He said, gently helping her sit down, her body all but dead weight.

She murmured something as he pulled away, and he could only give her hand a peck before he was rushing around, grabbing her things that would make her feel better. Fluffy socks to calm her, make her comfy, water for when her mouth got dry, plain tortilla chips for when she started getting hungry while he’d cook her some real food. He all but scowled at the weed confectionary as he passed it, hating the fact he had unknowingly gotten his girlfriend into such a state.

He took barely five minutes before he gently rolled the socks onto her cold feet, throwing himself back down next to her, her head lolling to look up at him through heavy lids.

“We watch Jared now?” She asked, burrowing her face into his shirt.

“We watch Jared now.” He confirmed, chuckling when he felt her try to press herself even further into him, her nose jabbing into his ribs, “What are you doing?”

“Wanna crawl inside your skin, I’m not close enough out here,” She murmured, and Eddie smiled widely down at her, pressing play on the remote.

“I’m gonna pretend that wasn’t mildly creepy, baby,” He said, his arm wrapping around her to keep her close, feeling her melt into his side, “I got you some water for when your mouth goes cottony,”

“Huh?” She said, though her eyes were zeroed in on the screen, his words a jumble in her ears. Nosing her hair line, he chuckled, kissing the tip of her ear and stroking her arm.

“Nothing, just watch your film, honey,” He said, his words a sugary glaze as he looked down at her zombie-like expression.

He had a lot of ass kissing to do in the morning.

PERMANENT TAG LIST:

@greeneyedblondie44 @liadamerondjarin @pedrosgirlx @andy-rocks @musicartmayheminmyheart @howlerwolfmax @ciarra–mae @lou-la-lou

[cultven]

hii i love reading yor fics sososo much T_T<333

I'd like to request a fic where Logan dreams that he hurts the reader, almost killing them. The reader notices that he's having a nightmare and wakes him up, he's disoriented and in panic, but when he realized what just happened he is incredibly relieved to see that reader is ok and alive. Maybe he even breaks down and cries, which really shocks the reader cuz they arent used to seeing Logan like this 🥺 Then the reader comforts him and takes care of him until he's back asleep.

As It Should Be

Wolverine X Reader

Content: Comfort, crying, poor Logan cannot catch a break, but you're there to dig him out of his sadness hole, he loves you a lot, lots of fluff while comforting him

Word Count: 1.39k

Warnings: Some graphic violence during the nightmare segment

a/n: Thank you for the kind words! This one honestly got a little graphic in terms of gore, but nothing too bad, so hopefully that’s ok! This was fun to write, enjoy!

No. What had he done? 

Logan stood in a pile of debris and rubble, his white tank top and jeans now caked in blood that wasn’t his. Claws refusing to retract, Logan felt utterly hopeless against his own body. His actions weren’t his own as he trudged towards the only person left alive; you. You were scared, that much was clear by your facial expression and hasty movements to crawl backward away from the mutant. 

“Logan… this isn’t you, please.” You plead, eyes darting around the scene to find help, anyone that is still alive or conscious. All you could take in was the decimated mansion and the mauled corpses of your loved ones. What had taken over Logan? Why did he destroy the very things he risked his life for countless times? 

As Logan looked into your frightened eyes his heart clenched, knowing what was coming next. He just wishes he could stop it. Watching himself tear through his other family hurt like hell, but having to watch you die he didn’t think he could bear it. You were his entire world, the only thing that could ground him when he fell down the pits of self-destruction. He would forever kill himself before harming you. But this version of himself had other plans. 

He trudged over, claws glistening in the light of fire around them. “No, no no no…” You chant, still trying to escape the man but your legs are rendered useless due to your paralyzing fear. With one swift movement, Logan begins to tear through flesh and muscle, watching in horror as his hands mutilate his love against his will. You could do nothing but lay there, screaming in pain, your mutant ability keeping you alive for longer than you wanted to be. Logan wished he was the one being gutted. In a way, he was. Anyone else, anyone but you deserved his wrath. 

Tears clung tightly to his eyes as his hand retracted from your body, lining up for the final shot to the head. As the blade commences its soar towards your skull, Logan jolts up from a lying position and hastily takes in his surroundings. It was dark, he was under a blanket of sorts, and oh, he was in your bedroom. Had it only been a nightmare? No, it was far too cruel and realistic to have been. Even Logan’s mind wasn’t so callous to make him live through such a horror. So then, it must have been real? Logan begins to hyperventilate, raising his hands to eye level. His claws were away, and his rough skin was clean of blood. But, as he blinked, grotesque images flashed through his mind. Sick crimson blood, your blood, begins to stain his hands, drying in a disgusting reddish-brown. He immediately jumped out of bed, went into the ensuite bathroom, and scrubbed his hands raw. 

“No, no no no.” He chanted under his breath as he tried to scrape off the non-existent material. The cold water was not enough to ground him back to reality, Logan eventually gave up and put him back to the skin, sliding down towards the floor to cradle his head in his hands. Thanks to the sound of the water running in the bathroom and Logan’s hard footsteps, you eventually stir awake. At first, nothing seemed wrong, maybe he just had to use the bathroom. But after the sound of continuous water for five minutes you grew increasingly concerned. Deciding to confront the man you carefully walk up to the bathroom door and gently knock three times, not to startle him during whatever he’s doing. 

“Lo?” It was only one syllable, but your sweet voice saying his nickname out loud was enough to send Logan scrambling. The door eagerly burst open, and when it did the sight you were met with shocked your heart. There was Logan on the ground, clearly disheveled, eyes bloodshot and teary. “Oh baby, what happened?” You coo, going to take a step forward but immediately retreating seeing Logan flinch. 

“You’re- you’re real, right?” Logan tentatively asks, sounding scared. Of course, you were real, why wouldn’t you be?” 

“Yes, love.” You stay put in your place. You didn’t want to upset him further.

“No… I ripped you apart. You died by my hands.” You resist the urge to outwardly exclaim how ridiculous he sounded before realizing he more than likely had a nightmare. Logan was prone to bad dreams, but none ever shook him quite as much as this. The only good thing that came out of the consistent night terrors was that you now knew how to soothe him in times like these. 

“I’m right here my love. I’m not hurt. See? I’m perfectly okay.” Your voice stays calm and soothing, not wanting to startle him further. “Touch my hand. Feel my skin. I am right here.” Usually, the sensation of touch grounded him from this distressed state, but this time he seemed hesitant to even look in your direction. 

“I can’t. I might hurt you again.” Logan looked so small and it broke you. He was huddled into himself, still looking at you untrusting. The thought of himself harming you any further plagued his mind, twisting his stomach and making him want to vomit. You were his world, his everything. He curses his body for the immortality that was bestowed upon him because if anything happens to you he wants to follow right behind. 

Realizing you may seem intimidating due to the fact you’re standing tall over his curled-up body you lower yourself and sit criss-cross applesauce across from him. Putting your hand out in between your two bodies you silently sit there, waiting for Logan to take this at his own pace. After a few minutes, Logan seems calm enough to touch your hand. Fingertips only brush at first, then a loose handhold, then a firm grasp on each other. Before either of you knew it you were fully embracing, Logan nuzzling his head into your neck. He needed to take you in every sense, to prove this was real. His nose took in your intoxicating perfume, his hands gripped your curves, his ears heard your soft breaths release from your mouth, and when he pulled back his eyes took in the sight of you. You were as stunning as always even with your messy hair and tired eyes. You were real, you were here, and you were his. 

Seeing as your boyfriend has calmed down you decided to relocate to a more comfortable area. “Let’s get off this gross floor, okay love? Let’s go to bed.” You whisper, carefully tugging him along to your shared bed. Once you two got settled down you were instantly back in his strong arms, protecting you from the rest of the world. You thought all was said and done for the night until Logan spoke up. 

“You were so scared. I made you scared.” He hated seeing you that way. It hurt him. What hurt worse was that he was the cause of it. He now understands it wasn’t real, but your expression was so gut-wrenching he couldn’t shake it off. 

“Logan I know you would never hurt me on purpose.” You reassured him. “Except maybe when you squeeze me to death with your bear hugs.” Logan chuckled a little bit, your humor always lightens the mood. You lay in silence for a bit, almost dozing off until you hear a voice next to you. 

“Thank you for dealing with me.” You smile, leaning over and kissing the man gingerly on the cheek. 

“It’s what I signed up for my love. Besides, you could never be a bother to me.” He smiles back, a rare sight to anyone but yourself. “I love you, Logan.”

“I love you too.” With that resignation you two cuddle, arms and legs entangled with one another’s. Eventually, Logan is lulled back to sleep while listening to the steady beat of your heart. Instead of another nightmare, he is met with a blissful dream of the two of you living together on a mountain, away from all the violence and harm the world holds. Just as it should be. 

[mellowsaturns]

one for you and me

BUCKY BARNES X READER

summary: bucky takes care of you since you’re always taking care of others

wc: 430

warnings: fluff, sweet sweet bucky barnes, friends to implied lovers

a/n: hopping on the orange discourse

You knew he was the one when he handed you the sweet citrus fruit one afternoon.

Since the weather was getting colder, you decided to stock up on vitamins, and what better way to do it than buy boxes and boxes of oranges.

Whenever one of the team came by the kitchen, you would peel an orange for them. Or sometimes, you would just peel it and have it ready for them after their training sessions or morning jogs so they remember to get their daily dose of vitamin C.

You were reading your book by the windowsill in the living room one day when you smelled the faint bright scent.

Then, someone placed a freshly peeled orange in front of your sight. “Here you go.”

You looked up, eyes meeting Bucky’s.

You paused for a moment before reaching out and taking it from his hand. “Thank you,” you said, appreciative but kind of confused.

“How come you’re giving me this?” you asked, curious.

“You’re always looking after other people,” he answered immediately. “When was the last time you ate one yourself?”

You chuckled. “I don’t mind,” you replied, “I just came back from a long mission. I’m free for the time being anyways.”

“Still,” he added, “You’re always doing things for others. Let me do this for you,” he said, eyes gentle and sweet.

Your heart swelled at his words.

It dawned on you. Something as simple as peeling a small fruit. It gets into your nails and the juice drips down your hands sometimes. It’s an act of labour—an act of love. And Bucky wanted to do it for you. He notices. He cares.

How sweet, you think. It made the butterflies in your stomach flutter tenfold. You had to look down to hide your grin and that action within itself made Bucky blush.

“Think you can handle peeling oranges for me for the rest of your life?” you teased.

He pondered for a bit, then a small smile crept up his face. “Doesn’t sound like a bad idea,” he replied.

Although the words weren’t said, the implication was there. He’s going to be by your side. He wanted to be by your side. He’s willing to get his hands dirty and sticky.

You grabbed the delicately peeled orange and split it in half. “Here, let’s share.”

The two of you sit by the windowsill, your book half forgotten in your lap, tearing segments of the fruit and giving it to each other—something promising between the two of you in the air.

[theladycarpathia]

I've seen too much stuff about Clipboard Buck and Tommy lately to not write this.

His boyfriend on a power trip should not be hot. 

“See,” Chim mutters under his breath, leaning over the rail to watch Buck down below. “I warned you.”

“So you did,” Tommy agrees, keeping his true thoughts to himself. Buck has the clipboard clenched in one hand, pen in the other, and directs a reluctant Hen and Eddie as they perform checks on the ambulance and the ladder. 

“He’s a menace,” Chim continues, with feeling. “He’s a dictator!”

“Uh huh,” Tommy says, watching the furrow in Buck’s forehead as he makes another tick. He gestures furiously towards something in one of the ladder’s compartments and Eddie puts down the jaws to argue back. 

“We keep hiding the clipboards,” Chim says darkly. “I don’t know where he keeps finding them all.”

“Unfortunately for you, I think that’s something they sell at most major retailers,” Tommy quips and rests his arms on the railing. 

He’s worked under power-crazed maniacs. He was in the army, and then he had Captain Gerrard. His own father was one fully for his way or the highway. 

Buck being like this should not be hot. And yet all Tommy can think about is lying naked on the bed while Buck does things to him from a very meticulous and organized list. 

Eddie makes an obscene gesture behind Buck’s back and Tommy smirks. 

“And this is Buck on a regular Tuesday,” Chim says and pops his gum. “Wait until you see Buck in an emergency or organize an event. It’s a good thing you stopped by. You need to know these kinds of things about a person before you get serious.”

“I’m glad to see you too, Chim,” Tommy says, although stopping to chat to Chimney hadn’t been on his agenda for today. He and Buck have had conflicting shifts lately, and they’ve barely seen each other. Texts and a few brief phone calls have been all they’ve had to get them by and Tommy finally had enough of it. Bobby doesn’t mind Tommy swinging by the firehouse and seeing Buck if they’re not on a call. And today is apparently so quiet that Buck has time to do a thorough inspection of the vehicles. 

“Are you?” Chim asks suddenly, twisting towards Tommy with a surprisingly calculating look. “Getting serious?”

Tommy just shrugs. He knows the answer, he’s just not entirely willing to discuss it yet. But it’s been long enough now that they keep toothbrushes and few essentials at each other’s houses, that they have evenings where they sprawl together in front of the TV, just happy to be together. Tommy knows about his sister, the loss of Daniel, the myth of Abby and has even read Taylor Kelly’s book. 

Which he did in bed, reading several segments out loud, much to Buck’s horror and embarrassment. 

“You seem to be,” Chim comments, and down below Hen throws a roll of surgical tape at Buck. “Not that I’m complaining. We like you, Buck likes you, you flew us into a hurricane…”

“I like him too,” Tommy says, because honestly he’s been smitten since Buck came up with that stupid motto back in the helicopter. “Funny to think that Evan and I never met before as he only got to join the 118 because I left.”

“You got there in the end,” Chim says. “I mean this as nicely as possible but you leaving worked out great for me. If you hadn’t left, there wouldn’t have been a space to fill. If Buck hadn’t joined us…”

“Then you would never have met Maddie when she came to LA,” Tommy says, understanding instantly. Funny how something that simple has changed so many lives. He doesn’t regret moving to Harbor, even with the closeness that the 118 has now. He wouldn’t be who he is otherwise, without that space to accept himself. If he didn’t have that, maybe he wouldn’t be the person brave enough to kiss Buck. “I get it.”

“Although,” Chim continues, still watching Buck down below. “We wouldn’t have the Clipboard Dictator if you had stayed…”

“You love it really,” Tommy says, because he knows Chim loves Buck. But then Buck’s eyes swing upwards, towards the first floor and the two of them. 

“Oh shit,” Chimney hisses and then ducks below the railing. It doesn’t work because Buck just shouts “Chim, it’s glass! I can see you!”

“That wasn’t your best idea,” Tommy says and then offers Chimney a hand. “Come on. I’ll go down with you. Maybe I can make the tyrant a little bit sweeter.”

Chimney doesn’t look soothed by this. 

“Hello, Chimney,” Hen says pointedly, sitting on the back of the ambulance. “Nice to see you. How funny you happened to be hiding in the bathroom when Buck gets his clipboard out.”

“I wasn’t hiding,” Chimney mutters, eying Buck’s clipboard with apprehension. “Kinard, save me.”

“Evan,” Tommy says, snagging his boyfriend’s free wrist with one hand. “I came by to see you. Maybe we give the workforce a five minute break?”

Buck frowns down at his list. “I wanted to finish this before Bobby was done with his paperwork,” he says before looking suspiciously at his friends. “And if they leave, I don’t think they’ll come back.”

“Damn straight,” Eddie says under his breath. Hen just looks innocent, although Tommy is pretty sure they’re about to see three empty firefighter shaped spaces. 

“Just ten minutes,” Tommy cajoles, stroking the soft part of Buck’s wrist with his thumb. “I haven’t seen you all week.” He drops his voice down for the next part, hoping that Buck is as desperate to see him. “I’ll make it worth your while.”

Buck practically throws the clipboard at Eddie. 

“Taking a break!” he says cheerfully, half dragging Tommy behind the engine. “Be back in ten or I will hunt you down.”

“Will he do it with a chainsaw, I wonder?” Hen has time to ask (Tommy feels as though he should follow up on this later), before all three of them vanish. Tommy doesn’t see because he’s pressing his boyfriend up against the gleaming red of the engine and kissing the breath out of him. 

“What can we do in ten minutes?” Buck asks, eyes glittering, running his hands up and down Tommy’s chest. 

“Probably not a lot, as we’re in the open, in a firehouse, during your workday,” Tommy admits begrudgingly. A week is a very long time. Buck’s salacious texts and suggestive selfies haven’t been enough. “But we have time off in two days and I want to spend every second with you.”

“Good,” Buck says and the next few minutes pass very quickly. Buck tastes of coffee and he keeps both hands planted on Tommy’s rear - if he keeps squeezing like that, Tommy is going to have difficulty walking out of here. 

“I think we order takeout and movies and don’t leave the house for twenty-four hours,” Tommy suggests, just as Buck licks the shell of his ear. Fuck. This kid will be the death of him. 

“Fine by me,” Buck says and pulls him in for one last kiss. “But I really should get back to work. Call you when I’m off?”

There’s such obvious suggestion in his voice that want searches in Tommy’s gut almost instantly. He pushes it down and strokes Buck’s rather red jaw. 

“Can’t wait,” he says. “And Evan? Go easy on your friends.”

But the others are waiting for them, standing in a line by the stairs, obvious glee written all over their faces. Eddie is holding Buck’s clipboard and Tommy deftly removes it from his grasp. 

“Why, Mr Buckley,” Hen says, looking them up and down with a smirk. “That’s not a proper use of company time.”

“Ha ha,” Buck says mutinously, and with far more confidence than someone wearing a ridiculous amount of beard burn should have. “We have a lot to do. Where’s the…?”

Tommy hastily recaps the pen and hands it back to Buck, as though nothing is changed. He’d feel bad about it if it was an official document. But as it was Buck’s handwritten list of chores, he thinks the others might get some amusement out of it. 

He kisses Buck on the cheek and waves goodbye, quickly ducking out of the firehouse before Buck notices. 

“Who vandalized my list?” Buck shrieks indignantly and Tommy just skips all the way back to his truck.

[saythenametotheworld]

'tis the damn season | kmg

Genre: exes baggage; pseudo-relationship Synopsis: Taking your boyfriend—with whom you recently broke up with—to your family home for the holidays and pretend you're still happily in love? Doesn't sound like the best idea but what could go wrong? Everything. Pairing: SEVENTEEN Kim Mingyu x Reader Warnings: mature themes, explicit sexual content Notes: 23k words - I got carried away, song prompt was 'tis the damn season by Taylor Swift.

The weather forecast sure wasn't lying when it said this winter would be the coldest in the last decade. As soon as you step outside, the chill has cut through your layers of clothing. It's a cold that feels even more piercing than the void in your soul right now.

The last few days, you've been trying to convince yourself that the chill you're feeling is just the season, nothing more. You were just being in denial, of course. As you walk to meet your sister in a cafe near your apartment, you can't help but think back to warmer times. Days when the sun seemed to shine a little brighter, when laughter was easy, and the world felt kinder to you and your heart. It's clear now that the warmth you miss isn't just from the absence of the sun. It's the absence of something, someone, who made everything feel less cold, less harsh.

“Blair!” you called out when you spotted your sister outside the cafe, her bundles of clothing unable to hide the massive baby bump. She looked warm and pretty, waving happily at you when she saw you.

“Hi!” she greeted pitchily when you approached her.

“Did you wait too long? Where’s your husband?”

“Oh, he went to get the gifts wrapped up,” she said, ushering you into the building.

“Their hot chocolate here is really good. You should try it.”

“Really? Good because I’m craving some chocolate right now.”

You found a table, ordered food, and started talking about the Christmas party in your family home this year. She laid down the plans and the segments which are the same as every year but you just had to talk about it. The discussion was going well until your sister reminded you of something important that totally slipped your mind. 

“Mingyu's coming too right?”

“I’m sorry, what?” you asked stupidly, blinking rapidly at her.

“Mingyu. Duh,” she scoffed, chuckling. 

Of course, Mingyu. “I'm not sure he can make it this year.”

Your sister's face contorted into a frown upon hearing that. She asked, “Why? What's wrong? Did you two break up?”

Yes, you did. But hearing the worry in her voice made you swallow the words. "He probably has other plans. I don't know, he might go home for the holidays this year."

She visibly relaxed, patting her chest and sighing. “Good lord, I thought you two broke up. That’s okay. He should spend time with his family if he can. I just asked because he’s been spending Christmas with us ever since you got together.”

Right, he has. Ever since you started dating, Mingyu has spent every Christmas with your family. The first time he did, it was because you found out his family lived abroad so you invited him over. He quickly got close with your family and soon became a regular presence during holidays and important family functions. Including last year, Mingyu has spent three Christmases in your family home. This year would have been his fourth if you didn't break up.

It hasn't been that long; only three weeks have passed since. You kept count because a four-year relationship is obviously not something you forget overnight. Not to mention the regrets you have about the breakup that would often leave you to wonder if it was the right thing to do.

"The kids will miss him, for sure," your sister commented to which you only replied with a hum of agreement. She didn't bring him up again and continued relaying the holiday plans to you. When it was all over and she'd had her third cup of hot chocolate, you walked out of the cafe with your sister promising to drive you back to your apartment.

The universe probably has it out for you though, because as soon as you step out of the cafe, the first person you bumped into was Mingyu.

"Mingyu!" your sister exclaimed, gasping behind the scarf that was covering half her face. "Good to see you. How are you?"

Mingyu looked surprised but he was quick to give your sister a hug. "I've been well. How are you?"

"Oh, I'm fine. Still alive and very pregnant."

"So, I see," Mingyu smiled sweetly, eyeing your sister's growing bump. "He should be coming out this month, right?"

"He is," your sister chimed. "Hopefully before or after the Christmas weekend, but, I'll leave it up to him to decide."

A smile crept up on your lips, touched by the fact that he remembered that bit. As the two of them had a quick catching up, you stood there awkwardly, looking around and refusing to meet Mingyu's gaze.

"Will you be joining us for Christmas this year?" your sister asked, making you glance at Mingyu at once. He was looking at you too, confusion written over his face. "She said you're going home to your family. That's good, but if you change your mind about it, you're welcome to the chateau, okay?"

"Uh," Mingyu chuckled awkwardly, tilting his head. "Yeah, I will. I mean... I might. I'll let you know."

"Good," your sister beamed just as her husband was pulling over at the side of the road. She turned to you. "Since Mingyu's here, I guess I won't have to drive you back anymore?" she said, nodding at you.

You grabbed her hands and gave her a pleading look. "But you promised!"

"I did, but your boyfriend's here now so I don't have to," she scoffed. To Mingyu, she said, "See you around, Gyu."

"Yes. See you around. Take care," Mingyu replied, waving at your sister as she got into the car.

The two of you stood there in silence, watching them drive away and disappear into the sea of cars on the road. You sighed when you couldn't see their car anymore, turning on your heel to walk away. Mingyu's voice called for you, making you stop to look at him.

He seemed hesitant at first, but he still spoke. "You haven't told them yet?"

"No," you replied, shaking your head. "I was going to, the timing was just off when the topic came up a while ago. Don't worry though, I'll sort this out."

"It's fine. No big deal," he said, nodding.

You evened your breathing, nodding at him. "Okay," you replied before turning to walk away.

The air was cold against your cheeks and your mouth was bitter from the cold exchange you just had with Mingyu. It was brief and hurried like neither of you wanted it. It was fleeting, almost as if it never happened at all. Now here you are, freezing and broken, wanting so bad to whine about the encounter but you can’t because that would be pathetic and completely out of line. In fact, you’re the last person who should complain about Mingyu being cold and distant. It was you who decided to break up with him in the first place.

“Y/N, wait!” came Mingyu’s voice, huffing as he ran after you down the sidewalk. You halted, your heart suddenly beating wildly, replacing your frustration with anxiousness. He stopped just a few feet from you. “Let me drive you home.”

What home? “I’m fine. It’s not that far.”

“Please, I insist,” he replied, reaching for you but not touching you. “You look cold.”

You swallowed the lump in your throat, along with the voice in your head telling you not to get into his car. "If you don't mind, then... okay."

With a heavy step and your mind screaming about how stupid you are, you towed behind Mingyu all the way to where his car was parked by the sidewalk.

The ride was quiet; not that you were expecting any conversation. What would you talk about anyway? It shouldn’t feel weird since you haven’t spoken to him in weeks. But then again, it did feel weird to be together and not utter a word to each other. You used to have a lot to talk about; random topics, important stuff, petty fighting, and whatever it was that crossed your minds. Now you haven’t heard from him for three weeks until today. Funny how someone can be a huge part of your life today and become a stranger the next day. The chill on your hands and cheeks was gone but the cold in your heart was enough to make your soul shiver.

Mingyu took a deep breath as he pulled over at the side of the road right in front of your apartment complex. The car came to a stop but you sat there frozen in place, unable to open the door on your side or say anything to thank him for the ride. Mingyu can probably feel your discomfort and it felt awkward knowing that.

“For what it’s worth,” he began, breaking the ice. “I haven’t told anyone either.”

You cautiously glanced his way, smiling timidly when you saw that he was looking at you. His expression was difficult to discern. There was a smile on his lips but it didn’t reach his eyes.

You looked away and chuckled awkwardly. “I guess it’s not something that just randomly comes up in conversations, is it?”

“You’re right, it isn’t,” he agreed, nodding.

You were both quiet after that, unsure of what to say next. You’re thinking about getting off but it doesn’t feel right to leave just yet. It was as if something in the atmosphere was telling you the conversation was not over yet. Was it the atmosphere or was it your delusional brain fooling you into thinking there's something there when the truth is there isn't?

“You know, if you want…” he started again. You can tell he was hesitating because he wouldn’t even look at you. “I can go to the chateau with you.”

“The chateau?” you repeated, genuinely surprised. “With me? You mean for Christmas?”

“Yeah."

“Are you serious?” you asked incredulously, genuinely amazed at the sudden turn of events.

“Is that a ‘no’?” he probed. He seemed serious about his offer but you weren’t sure how to react to it. “I was thinking we could just go there for old times’ sake. I don’t have anything planned for Christmas anyway, and I would love to see them again one last time.”

One last time? This really is the end for you, isn’t it? “Wouldn’t it be weird?”

Mingyu chuckled sheepishly, scratching his nape. “Yeah, I guess it would. Sorry. Was it too much? Did I overstep?”

You shook your head in response but in your mind, you do agree that it was out of bounds. What kind of ex was he to ask if he could spend Christmas with your family after you two have broken up? And what kind of woman would you be if you said it was alright and he could come? Sure, he’s close to your family and has built a good relationship with them. Even so, it’s still awkward to have him come over for the holidays knowing the relationship you two had-- which was the reason he met your family in the first place, has come to an end.

“We broke up, Gyu. I don’t think it’s a good idea,” you replied and you meant it. Everyone in your family adored Mingyu, especially your parents. Now that you think about it, if they find out that you’ve broken up, it would break their hearts too. “I haven’t told them yet and it would upset them. Especially mom.”

Mingyu appeared to think for a moment, then his face contorted with hesitation. It baffled you how much you knew him; his cues, his expressions, and even his mannerisms. You knew exactly what they signified and how to respond to them. Right now, you know he has an idea that you may or may not like.

“What if…” he began, glancing at you tentatively. “What if we don’t tell them yet?”

“What?”

“What if we don’t tell them that we broke up? Telling them now would probably ruin the festive mood. Let’s just let the holidays pass. We could do that and spend Christmas together this year.”

Together... you pondered but you steeled your resolve. It was tempting, and you could shout to the world how much you miss him right now, but you wouldn't take your chances on something so risky.

“You’re not serious,” you deadpanned, imagining a whole lot of scenarios where his plan backfires terribly. It would be easier to just get back together than to pretend you’re still together in front of your whole family. “It’s stupid and they’ll see right through it.”

“So, you’re up for it as long as they don’t figure it out?” he grinned mischievously. God, you hate it when he makes that face. He does that when he knows he’s up to no good and he’s trying to rope you into it. But dear God, don’t you love it too; the fun that follows after he finally convinces you, the euphoria of being involved in some misconduct, and the thrill of doing something you never thought you would ever do.

“No.” You crossed your arms over your chest, looking away from him. “I get that you loved hanging out with them, but it’s risky and unnecessary. Besides, you don’t really have to be there. I already told my sister you’ll be spending Christmas with your family.”

“Alright, I'm sorry. Let’s not do it,” he gave up, raising his hands. “It was worth a shot though.”

“Yeah, well, it’s a no.” You forced a smile as you reached for the door and got ready to leave. “Thanks for the ride.”

“You’re welcome. Stay warm,” he replied with a small wave. You smiled again just as you were closing the door. Then you watched him drive away, sighing as soon as he was far enough.

"Stay warm? What is he a weatherman?" you muttered, shaking your head.

You were right; the universe has it out for you. After that one unexpected encounter with Mingyu, you started seeing him everywhere—in the grocery store, at your favorite café, even just walking down the street. For such a big city, it seemed absurd how often you bumped into him lately, especially since you hadn't seen him once since the breakup. At first, you exchanged quick, polite greetings, but soon these random meetings became so frequent that even looking at each other felt awkward. That’s the tricky part about an amicable breakup: there’s no real reason to ignore each other. It would have been easier if he had been a jerk, or if you had done something unforgivable, but there was not enough reason to act like strangers.

“Hello, stranger. Good morning,” Mingyu greeted you as he saw you at the café counter. The sound of his voice made your heart skip a beat, but you forced yourself to roll your eyes at his goofy grin.

“Good morning to you too,” you replied, nodding in acknowledgment. Mingyu didn’t say anything else and quietly waited his turn.

He stood behind you in the queue, out of sight, but you could easily imagine him with his hands shoved into his coat pockets. Or maybe he was scrolling through his phone. Perhaps he was staring at the menu. Whatever he was doing, you hoped he wasn’t looking at you—observing the back of your neck, checking you out, or anything like that.

“Thank you,” you told the barista as she handed you the buzzer after you paid for your coffee. When you turned on your heel, you caught a glance of Mingyu who smiled at you when your eyes met. As you walked away, you heard him tell the barista his order.

Your feet hurriedly carried you to a four-seater table. Originally, you weren’t planning to linger in the café and ordered a takeout, but curiosity got the best of you after hearing Mingyu order for two people. Who was he having coffee with this early? Your eyes scanned the occupied tables, searching for any hint of Mingyu’s company. Anxiety began to build up in your chest as you considered the possibility that he might be here with another girl.

It could be anyone, you reassured yourself. Mingyu, being the social butterfly that he is, has friends everywhere. Throughout your relationship, you had lost count of the times you met Mingyu’s acquaintances. Most of these meetings happened in the streets or the hallways of the university, where he would bump into someone he knew and have quick small talks—not forgetting to introduce you as his girlfriend to those you were meeting for the first time. But still, in your opinion, it was a little too early to be meeting a friend for coffee.

As expected, Mingyu had a quick chat with the barista before leaving the counter. Hoping he wouldn’t notice you watching him, you feigned interest in your phone as he strolled across the room. The table he sat at wasl vacant, leading you to presume that the person he’s meeting hasn’t arrived yet. But barely a minute later, the chime of the door opening echoed through the café. The way Mingyu’s face lit up with a smile at the sight of the newcomer made you scowl. Glancing over your shoulder toward the entrance, you saw a woman walking in.

You held your breath, observing the tall, alluring figure approach your ex-boyfriend. Mingyu greeted her with a hug that lingered longer than you would have preferred. Recognizing the jealousy bubbling up inside you, you scoffed incredulously, shaking your head and tearing your gaze away from them. So what if he’s meeting a woman? What does it matter to you? So what if there’s a chance they’re involved romantically? It’s none of your business! He’s free to do whatever he wants!

“Isn’t it a little too soon to start seeing someone new, though?“ you muttered, a scowl knitting your brows together.

The buzzer startled you, prompting a sharp exhale as you rose to fetch your order. But when the barista called out your name in a voice louder than necessary, a flush of embarrassment tinged your cheeks. Mingyu must have heard that you were still around.

But really, why feel embarrassed? This is a public space, and you have every right to be here. Now that you think about it, you may be way in over your head to think your presence there is affecting him at all. You chided yourself internally for overthinking.

“Thanks,“ you said to the barista, sliding the buzzer back across the counter. “But seriously, what's the point of the buzzer if you're going to call out names anyway?“

The barista grinned sheepishly. “Honestly, I've wondered the same thing myself.“

If you want to know who Mingyu was hanging out with or if he's already moved on, you could simply ask. Not Mingyu, of course. Maybe inquire with mutual friends or someone close to him. Granted, easier said than done, but definitely less humiliating than the slightly awkward and borderline stalker-ish behavior you're exhibiting now.

Your phone started ringing as soon as you stepped out of the cafe. It was your father calling so you punched the answer button and pressed the device on your ear. “Hi Dad, what’s up?”

“Hi, sweetheart. Is Mingyu there?” was the first thing he said.

You glanced back inside the cafe where you could see Mingyu happily chatting with his ‘date’. “No. Why?”

“Mommy wants to know if he’s coming this weekend. Your sister was here a while ago and told us she met Mingyu last week. Your mom’s making final arrangements for the weekend so she wants the RSVP. You know how it goes.”

“Yeah, I know,” you exhaled, your eyes twitching at the sight of the girl’s hand around Mingyu’s arm. They have left their table and are now making their way out of the cafe with all smiles.

“Right, you do. Let us know once he made up his mind, alright? Or call your mom, whatever works for you.” your dad said.

You turned in the direction of your apartment before Mingyu could see you loitering outside the cafe. “I should just call her. I gotta tell her as soon as possible anyway,” you replied as you trekked back to your apartment.

“Good. It shouldn’t be so hard to ask him. I mean,” your father chuckled. “He’s been a regular presence in our home for three Christmases. At this point, he’s basically family.”

If they only knew the truth, they would never even mention his name around you. “Right. I gotta go, Dad. I’ll call mom later.”

“Alright, Bean. Love you.”

“Love you too, Dad,” you replied, briskly hanging up and tucking your phone back into your purse. You have made up your mind, so you turned on your heel and walked back to the cafe. Mingyu was standing by the sidewalk, waving a hand at the girl who he had just sent away in a taxi. The voices in your head were screeching and cursing at you for an impulsive decision that you were actively trying to execute. But there was no turning back.

“Kim Mingyu,” you blurted as soon as you reached your ex. Mingyu, who was just about to press his phone to his ear, turned to you in surprise. “Christmas at the chateau. Is it still on the table?”

Confusion flickered on his face. “Mom, let me call you back. I need a sec. Yeah, it’s her… I will. Bye, mom. Talk later.”

You took a deep breath, watching him put his phone away and walk closer to you. He then said, “It depends on you, y/n. Just say the word.”

You exhaled sharply, blowing steam from the warmth of your mouth. “Come with me, then. Spend Christmas with me–us. The family… My uh, family wants you there.”

Mingyu shrugged, lips lifting into a boyish smile. “What about you? Do you want me there?”

“Absolutely!” you replied so quickly, it was embarrassing. “Everyone would be delighted to see you so… That makes me want you to be there.”

There’s no way he didn’t notice how defensive you were. Mingyu’s grin didn’t falter, nodding cheekily as he said, “Okay then. If you insist.”

You couldn’t help the smile that tore through your lips, both annoyed and shy because you knew he was teasing you on purpose. “Stop that.”

“What?” he grinned. “You want me there. I guess I’ll be there then.”

“Shut up,” you gloated, shaking your head despite being unable to erase your smile. You started walking back to your apartment while Mingyu followed behind you. “Go away!”

He chuckled heartily, reaching for your elbow. “Come, y/n. I’ll take you home.”

“Fine,” you grumbled, letting him drag you back. Your heart has stopped raging and you are feeling much calmer now. “I have rules.”

“Okay.”

“And I have a condition.”

“Sure, sure. Let’s hear it in the car.”

“What could go wrong?” you questioned, looking at your friend Daphne through the reflection in the mirror.

Daphne stared back at you with a dumbfounded expression, as if she had just heard the most ridiculous thing ever. “Those four words are harmless on their own. But if you put them together, you get the most dangerous sentence in the history of humanity.”

You scoffed, shaking your head as you turned to face her. “You’re so dramatic.”

“And you’re an idiot.”

“Thank you very much,” you quipped, then stood with your back facing her. “Now, would you please help me out of this dress? I don’t like it.”

“Me neither,” Daphne agreed before unzipping the dress at once.

“How about that one?” You pointed at a nice maroon cashmere dress. 

Daphne looked over it and nodded. “It’s cute. Try it on.”

You hurried back into the fitting room with the dress. It’s the morning before you leave for the chateau and you invited Daphne for a last-minute shopping. You wanted a dress for the Christmas dinner and you initially thought you’d find a decent one in your closet but there wasn’t any. That was not to say you didn’t have any nice dress–in fact, you had plenty. You just didn’t want to wear them for the occasion. It was as if everything in your closet was suddenly tacky, plain, or unattractive. You wanted new ones.

“You look amazing,” Daphne said as soon as you stepped out, although she had a deadpan expression.

“Thank you. I like it too.”

“Be honest. Are you shopping because you wanted to look cute for Mingyu?”

You laughed awkwardly. “No, I’m not.”

Daphne narrowed her eyes at you. “I can see right through you.”

You knew that but you were still adamant about denying it. “I don’t dress to impress, Daph. Especially not for a man.”

“You don’t, but this is Mingyu we're talking about so…” she retorted, raising an eyebrow at you.

“I don’t know what you’re trying to say. This dress is not for him,” you insisted, examining yourself in the mirror.

“It’s okay, girl. You can be honest with me.”

“I can?” you lilted, taking the bait Daphne threw to catch you.

“See, I knew it!” she snickered, rolling her eyes. “You want to impress your ex.”

You just pouted, not responding to her at all and just looking through your dress selections for more options. So what if you want to impress Mingyu? You’re not trying to get back with him. You just didn’t want him to think you were any less pretty after the breakup.

“y/n, I told you. Bringing him to the chateau is a bad idea.”

“It’s just one weekend,” you murmured, embarrassed but determined not to back out.

Daphne stood from the couch and crossed her arms over her chest. “One weekend where your heart and dignity is on the line. I don’t think it’s worth it.”

Daphne was right and you know it. But you had made up your mind–you are going to the chateau with Mingyu. You’ve made the preparations and told your parents he was coming. You’ve talked to Mingyu and put up clear boundaries. Plus you are driving up there in four hours. You can’t just back out at the last minute!

You can, you just didn’t have the intention to do so. Although it shamed you to admit it, a part of you wanted this. For old-time’s sake.

“I know you mean well but,” you paused, faced your friend, and sighed, “I’m sorry, Daph.”

Daphne sighed, shaking her head sternly as he approached you to tenderly squeeze your shoulders. “I guess I can’t change your mind, then?”

You responded by shaking your head, and Daphne pulled you into a hug.

“Just don’t go breaking your heart. It hasn’t even healed yet.”

“I’ll try my best.”

Your friend grumbled as she pulled away. Pouting, she pointed at the dress with a deep olive green shade. “Get this one too. Green looks majestic on you. And hurry. This place is getting too crowded.”

Grinning, you heeded her suggestion and grabbed said dress before disappearing into the fitting room once again. After shopping, you sat down for brunch with your friend and spent the morning chatting away. By the time you arrived back at your apartment, it was half past noon and you only had a couple minutes left before Mingyu would come to pick you up. You stuffed your new clothes in your luggage, inspected your boxes of presents for your family, and did your routine inspection of your flat to make sure everything was clean and tidy before you left.

Your doorbell rang right on time, signaling the arrival of Kim Mingyu. Part of you wanted to roll your eyes and say he can just come in like he used to. It’s not like you changed your passcode or anything. But then again, Mingyu is a gentleman. Even if he could, he wouldn’t just waltz in like he owns the place.

“Hi,” he beamed as soon as you pushed your door open. “You ready to go?”

“Yes, I just need help with these,” you replied, motioning to the huge bag of presents in your hands. Mingyu was quick to take it out of your hands, and then hold the door open for you while you went back in to take your luggage out. He even took that one out of your hand too.

“Is this all your stuff?” he asked as you closed your apartment door.

You nodded in response and so you both boarded the elevator. At the parking lot, his car was right outside the exit, waiting for the two of you. As soon as everything was loaded, he opened the car door for you with no hesitation. Dumbfounded, you quietly slipped through the door and sat on the shotgun. Mingyu then rounded the car to get inside the driver’s seat.

“Ready?” he asked, beaming. You looked away from him, pretending to be busy with the seatbelt as you responded to his question with a quiet nod.

The first few minutes of the car ride were spent with Mingyu talking to his mother on the phone. It was a pure and adorable conversation about the weather, meals, and their plans for the weekend. Mingyu’s mom was a kind woman who spoke in a stern but gentle manner. You don’t have that many memories with her mom, except for the time two years ago when Mingyu took you on a trip to his hometown. At the time, and in the few occasions that you did talk to her, she has shown nothing but adoration for you.

“Mmhmm, don’t worry. I will take good care of myself, Mom,” he said affectionately after his mom reminded him to keep himself warm and never get sick.

“But wait, if you’re on your way to their house, does that mean y/n is with you?” she asked from the other line. Your eyes widened at his phone that was hanging on the dashboard holder. Then you glanced at Mingyu who just scrunched his nose cutely at you. 

“Yes, she’s here. Say, ‘hi’.”

His mother started laughing heartily before saying, “Hi, dear. How are you?”

“Hello, Moth…er…” your speech trailed off, awkwardly glancing at Mingyu.

He just chuckled and gave you an encouraging nod before mouthing, “It’s okay.”

“Um… I’ve been well–” you stammered, clearing your throat before finishing, “–mother.”

“You’ve been well? Great. That’s great,” she chimed, her voice sweet and endearing. “I haven’t heard from you for a while. I thought you finally got sick of my son and left him for good.”

A hiccup escaped your throat, caught off-guard by her sudden comment. Mingyu on the other hand, started whining and said, “Mom! Why would you even say that?”

“Why not? She has every reason to dump you,” she replied. Mingyu grabbed the phone from the holder and tapped the loudspeaker button so he could talk to his mother in private.

“I’ll call you later. Stop worrying about me and take care of yourself, alright? Good. Let’s talk soon. Okay. Bye, love you!” He then tossed the device into a compartment and mumbled under his breath. You might not speak his language, but you knew he just cursed in his mother tongue.

“Sorry about her,” he said awkwardly. “You see, I haven’t told them either.”

“Hmm, I see.”

“She asks about you all the time, you know,” he added, eyes fixed on the road. “Even after we broke up.”

“What do you tell her?” you probed, genuinely curious. If she did ask about you all the time, how come he couldn’t tell her about the breakup?

“Nothing much. Just that you’re fine and doing stuff,” he said, to which you hummed in response and then turned your gaze to the road.

“Are you?” he questioned, making you look at him. He glanced at you briefly. “Are you fine and doing stuff?”

“Who, me?” you chuckled nervously. “Yeah, I’m fine and doing stuff.”

“Really? What have you been up to these days?”

“Oh, you know. Small gigs for family or friends. Nothing official or permanent yet. I’m still on a break.”

You and Mingyu met in college as sophomores. He took up accounting, while you were an art student majoring in interior design. After college, he applied for jobs in major firms and got accepted immediately. Then for the next six months, he worked as an assistant for an executive–which served as his training before he signed a full contract. You, on the other hand, didn’t have to worry about getting a job and securing a good salary. So you took your time, not making big decisions and enjoying your free time.

“So you’re freelancing?” Mingyu asked.

“I wouldn’t consider it freelancing since I’m not really available for hire any time. I just picked up some small projects for Allan’s house. The other is for Daphne’s department store. And I decorated for Sue as well. Remember her?”

“Yeah, I remember Sue. She was your new neighbor before I…” he stopped to clear his throat and finished, “Before I moved out.”

The sudden change of subject made your stomach turn. Looking back, you and Mingyu started living together in your fourth year of college. As spacious as it was, before he moved in, you had never eaten or cooked there. It was tidy, not because you purposely kept it clean, but because barely anyone stayed there who would make any mess– not even you who spent most of your time outside and only came home to sleep and bathe. Mingyu made it homely and warm.

At one point in your relationship, you told him you could never live there without him anymore. You could not imagine waking up without him on the bed, eating there without the food he made himself, or sitting in the living room without him to snuggle with. You told him that once and although he laughed about it, he also promised he would never leave you there alone. 

Long story short, he lied. Sure, you were the one who broke things off, but he was the one who left. That was the part that hurt most— the fact that he just agreed to break up without putting up a fight. You can only hope the best for him, you knew he was hoping the same for you anyway.

Attempting to dissolve the awkwardness, you decided to ask him about his job. “How was your job at the firm?”

“Oh, it’s great. I got regularized about two weeks ago,” he replied, looking pleased.

You knew that, one of your friends told you about it when it happened. “That’s amazing. I knew you would get the job.”

“Thanks. That’s immensely reassuring.”

You agree that it was such a reassuring thing to say, and you also regret not saying it when you were still together— when he needed to hear it the most.

“Good to know. You’ve always been easy to reassure,” you said as a passing comment. “I wish Blair was like that. I mean, honestly, how can she ask me to reassure her all the damn time but still remain pessimistic about everything?”

Mingyu chuckled heartily. “I guess the pregnancy is making her anxious, huh?”

You shook your head. “Not the pregnancy itself. It’s giving birth that she’s so scared of. Now that her due is near, everyone has been trying to give her pep talks.”

“It must be nerve-wracking.”

“I can’t say I know how it feels,” you chuckled derisively. “You wanna know what she’s naming the baby?”

“She picked one already?” he asked, glancing at you with an amazed smile.

“It’s Alfred.”

“Alfred?” Mingyu frowned, dismayed. The face he made was funny to you because you had the same negative reaction when you first heard it. 

“Yes. Alfred,” you snickered. "Tacky, isn't it?"

“No. I think it’s um…” He tilted his head a little. “It’s okay. Cool name. Alfred. Has a nice classy ring to it.”

You rolled your eyes, knowing he was just trying to patronize your sister. “She’s hell-bent on following our parents’ legacy by naming her children chronologically. We barely talked her out of naming the child Allan after my older brother.”

Mingyu hummed. “So if she had it her way, there would have been a ‘y/n Jr.’ in a couple of years.”

You giggled, leaning your head on the backrest as you started feeling drowsy. “I know, right? That would have been nice, and kinda weird too if you think about it.”

“So I almost became a godfather to an Allan Jr.?” he asked, bewildered. “Now that you mentioned it, it does sound a little strange for an Allan Jr. to exist as someone else’s child, not Allan’s himself.”

“Do you still want to be Alfred’s godfather?” you asked, remembering that Blair had requested Mingyu to be her son’s godfather when she first found out that she was pregnant. “I mean, would you still be up for it after we tell everyone that we’ve broken up?”

You saw Mingyu shrug. “As long as you’re okay with it.”

That was such a play-safe answer, and also a ridiculous one especially since it was between him and Blair as friends; you had nothing to do with it. But you also recognized why it would depend on your opinion. To begin with, it was because of you that he made friends with your family. He would want you to be comfortable with it more than anything. And of course, regardless of how great their relationship was, you knew your family would take your side no matter what. Each time you remember this fact, you are reminded of the disappointment and pain that your breakup would bring upon your loved ones.

Something about the yuletide season tugs at your heartstrings each year. Everywhere you go, twinkling lights adorned the homes, business establishments, and the streets. Christmas brings a festive mood to the atmosphere and a unique blend of warmth, nostalgia, and anticipation that fills you with warmth despite the cold season. Your hometown is no different; each Christmas, it transforms into a wonderland of lights and decorations from house to house. In your own home, there is a warm sense of togetherness as your family gathers to share laughter, stories, and meals. 

You loved this mood, but this year is a little different. The festivity is still there, but the warmth of the familiar embrace has disappeared. The once-sweet scent of gingerbread in the air now had a bitter aftertaste to it that you knew was caused by the massive hole in your heart. And it didn’t help that the reason for this void was smiling next to you.

“Here we are,” he breathed, glancing sideways at you. It’s nightfall. The drive took four hours and you slept for most of it.

“The rules,” you reminded, making him nod. “Don’t forget them.”

“Alright, babe.”

“Babe?” you scowled, making Mingyu chuckle.

“Yes, ‘babe’,” he repeated, reaching for your hand on your thigh. “Come on, It’s only for the weekend.”

“Right. Only for the weekend,” you echoed, glancing at your joined hands.

Approaching the chateau, you marveled at the Christmas trees lined up along the driveway, and the glowing ornaments hanging on them. As you reach the entrance of the house, you can hear the low hum of amazement from Mingyu. Coming to the chateau always amazed him. Not that you can blame him. The chateau is magnificent— preserved and passed down through generations, it sits on a large estate and exudes grandeur and sophistication at every turn.

“Hello, sweetheart!” your mother greeted cheerfully, walking towards you with open arms.

You greeted her back with a smile, giving her a tight hug. As she approached Mingyu, you embraced the other members of your family who came out to greet you. 

“You arrived right on time for dinner,” your father stated, giving you a one-armed hug and a gentle squeeze on your shoulder. “I made your favorite.”

“You did?” you exclaimed, gleaming in delight. Your father puffed his chest proudly. “Aw, thank you!”

“You’re welcome, Bean,” he replied, evidently pleased to have elicited a good reaction from you. He patted your shoulder before greeting Mingyu. “Mingyu, my boy! Welcome back.”

“Good evening, sir,” Mingyu beamed, shaking hands with your father but the latter pulled him into a hug. 

“It’s been a while,” said your father, smiling contently. “How have you been, son?”

“Very well, sir,” your ex-boyfriend replied as he let your father lead him into the house. As they went, you could hear some of their conversation. 

“Not as well as I have,” your father chuckled cockily. “Did you know I’ve been hitting the gym these days? Putting in some literal leg work.”

“Nice. Although I already know. Dave told me you were there once every week.”

“Of course. And what an excellent PT he was, Dave. You have my thanks for introducing me to him.”

You caught your mother by the arm as she was passing by you. “Dad’s been going to the gym?”

“Don’t get me started, y/n,” she sighed, rolling her eyes. She leans closer to speak in a quieter voice. “I’m glad that he’s exercising because it’s good for his health, but this thing which he calls ‘gains’ is making him vain and more annoying than usual.”

You snorted, unable to stifle your laughter. Your mother sighed with exasperation before turning to walk away from you. At that moment, you spotted Mingyu with your cousins, making you assume he was snatched away from your father’s grasp. They laughed as they chatted, contributing to the warmth permeating the atmosphere of the entire house. You couldn’t help admiring Mingyu, completely taken by his natural charm and charisma that make it easy for him to be friends with everyone.

Oh, to be Kim Mingyu— outstanding, endearing, compassionate; loved by all who meet him. Visually, he’s remarkably handsome, with his tan skin and prominent features, brilliant eyes that gleam with kindness, and a beautiful smile that lights up his face. He’s quick-witted and intelligent, capable of holding conversations about various subjects at different levels of seriousness. His sense of humor is the cherry on top, bringing laughter and joy to every gathering. He’s incredibly thoughtful too, not to mention caring. Whether it's helping out with chores, lending a listening ear, or surprising them with thoughtful gestures, Mingyu loved your family as much as he loved you. This is why he was able to build a strong connection with them, something you would hate to break if you were to reveal that you two have broken up.

In your family’s eyes, Mingyu is more than just your boyfriend; he's a part of the family, someone they wholeheartedly embrace and admire. Sometimes you’d think you fumbled when you broke up with him but then you get a flashback of the events leading up to the breakup and you realize nobody is perfect; not even the Golden Boy, Kim Mingyu.

“Everything alright?” he asked upon approaching you. He had caught you staring from across the hall while he was catching up with your cousins.

“Yeah. Mom said we should all head to the dining hall for dinner.”

“Sure. Let’s go,” he beamed, placing a hand on your waist as you led the way.

You headed straight to the dining area for dinner, where you got to meet the rest of your family who will be joining you for the weekend. Most of your relatives hold their own Christmas celebrations, the others who don’t get invited for a holiday break by those who want to host. Your mother is an excellent host, and she always sends Christmas invitations to your extended family, regardless of whether they can make it or not. As a matter of fact, Christmas at the Chateau is quite a popular recurring event in your family. That being said, there are always unfamiliar faces each year, as well as regulars who are more tight-knit with your immediate family.

“Dear lord, if it isn’t y/n,” said Aunt Lydia, a distant aunt whom you’ve only met a handful of times because she lived halfway across the globe and only showed up for important family functions. “Last time I saw you, you were wearing braces and corrective glasses. Now you’re a beautiful lady. Isn’t that right, Lena?”

Lena, her daughter, gave you a smile and a quick peck on the cheek. “It’s been a while, y/n.”

“You returned her sweet smile and let her hold your hand. 'Good to see you, Auntie. It’s been a long time. Good to see you too, Lena.' Their eyes were fixed behind you, making you glance back only to realize they were looking at Mingyu. He was chatting with some of your cousins, laughing about things you couldn’t comprehend from where you were standing.

“Is that your boyfriend? Mingyu, was it?” your aunt asked.

Your brows lifted, mildly surprised. “You know about Mingyu?”

“Oh, I heard about him. All good things,” she giggled. “I heard you’ve been together a long time?”

“I guess you could say that,” you chuckled awkwardly. At that same moment, Mingyu caught you looking so he smiled at you and then excused himself from your cousins. “I should introduce you to him.”

As soon as Mingyu was within reach, he snaked an arm around your waist, and you placed a hand on his shoulder as you motioned to your relatives.

“Auntie, this is Mingyu. Mingyu, this is my aunt from Europe. You haven’t met her before because she rarely comes here.”

“Nice to meet you, ma’am,” Mingyu beamed, leaning towards the elder lady for a brief hug.

“And this is my cousin, Lena.”

“Lena. Nice to meet you,” Mingyu recited, shaking hands with your cousin. The reluctance on Lena’s face when Mingyu didn’t greet her the same way he greeted your aunt did not go unnoticed by you.

“Hi, Mingyu. Pleased to meet you,” she replied, chuckling nervously before backing away and fiddling with the ends of her blonde hair.

As observant as you were, you knew right then and there that Lena was attracted to your boyfriend—well, ex-boyfriend, although no one knows that yet. Nonetheless, you didn’t think much about it. It’s Kim Mingyu after all, loved by all who meet him. You couldn’t blame anyone who fell for him at first sight as it was the case for you when you first met him all those years ago.

It was at a college party, your third party in a week because everyone was trying to hold one to welcome the new semester. You had just transferred from another campus, and your friends were showing you around. Mingyu was by the poolside of that big house, dunking students into the water as a penalty for losing against him in arm wrestling. He seemed to enjoy the attention too, not shying away from it but not being cocky about it either. Both boys and girls surrounded him, all of them wanting to be friends with the most popular sophomore on campus.

Boys think he is cool, and girls, well, they’re girls—enamored by the handsome specimen, just like you were at that very moment. Daphne was the one who told you his name and added in his reputation for turning down girls without batting an eye. Not that you had any plans of confessing to him anyway. He was cute, yes, but that’s all. In no time, he’ll become nothing but a passing crush.

You were wrong, of course. He talked to you that night, asking for your name. The rest was history.

“So, Mingyu, how was work? I heard you got promoted to regular. Is that true?”

“It is. And work is wonderful. The firm really does live up to its name.”

“As they should,” an uncle of yours chuckled. “The family has been doing business with them for the longest time. We wouldn’t trust them if they weren’t any good.”

“Oh, so you're in business with them?” Mingyu glanced at you, and you shrugged as if to say you had no idea.

Your father hummed in response. “That firm oversees the estate's accounts, as well as the company’s books. You didn’t know, did you?”

'No, sir. I had no idea,' Mingyu responded, astonished.

“The founder, Mr. Harrington, happened to be a family friend,” interjected your eldest brother, Allan, a hint of amusement in his voice. “There were talks about exploring partnerships elsewhere, but when we heard you were working there, Dad seemed to have a change of heart.”

Your father chuckled warmly, eyes twinkling as he waved his hand in a dismissive gesture. “That’s enough, Al. Don't put pressure on the young man.”

“Oh, right. Speaking of that, is anyone going to the wedding?”

“Whose wedding?”

“Mr. Harrington’s daughter’s wedding. You did receive the invitations, didn’t you?”

Dinner table conversations are often like this; topics that span from individual career pursuits to the latest news in business or finance. As you go through the food, the conversations also transition to mundane topics or updates on family members, such as children’s school performances or how your cousin’s car broke down in the middle of nowhere on their way to the chateau. And then it would circle back to more profound or intellectual subjects.

Mingyu blends in effortlessly in your bunch, almost as if he belonged there to begin with. Given a chance, Mingyu would become the most welcome member of your family if you married him.

“Pathetic,” you mumbled to yourself, ridiculing your line of thought. Marriage with Mingyu? Are you serious? How could you possibly entertain the idea of marrying someone who let you leave without so much as a fight?

Your mood soured in an instant, so you stood up from your seat and excused yourself from the table as they all chatted away. The dinner was over but everyone was too immersed in their conversations to leave the table. Your feet brought you to a balcony overlooking the back garden and the pool area of the estate. It was cold but the tea was warm. Just when you thought you were alone to wallow in self-pity and overthinking, Mingyu's endearing voice called out your name, and his warm jacket settled on your shoulders.

“Everything alright?” he asked, standing behind you as he held your arms. “You left so suddenly.“

“I’m fine. Just a little stuffed,“ you told him, looking far beyond the dark horizon. The night sky was clear, with stars twinkling faintly above. As you took a deep breath, you pondered about the farce you and Mingyu were attempting to pull off this weekend. Is it worth the risk? Like hell, is it even necessary? You should have just told them the truth long ago and got it over with.

“Hey,“ Mingyu prompted, noticing your gloomy disposition. “What’s going on in your pretty little mind?“

You loved it when Mingyu talked to you like this, but not this time though. Given the situation you are in, the only thing he’s making you feel right now is annoyance and frustration.

“Stop that, Gyu,“ you grumbled, pulling away from his embrace. “There’s no need to act all lovey-dovey and sweet.“

Mingyu chuckled and looked around. “And make them wonder why we’re distant? That’s totally gonna convince them that we’re happily in love.“

Happily in-love? How can he say these things so carelessly? “We’re fine. No one’s suspicious.“

“We’ve been here three hours,“ he countered. “Back there, your mom was asking me if you were okay. If we’re going to make this work, shouldn’t we act like we usually do?“

“Fine.“ You rolled your eyes. “Just stick to the rules.“

The rules were simple: stay in character, respect boundaries, don't tell anyone, and end it once you leave the chateau. That’s it. You can’t just walk into this without precautions, can you? So you and Mingyu agreed on these rules, which are more your rules than his. Either way, you intend to be faithful to these rules as it is the only way to prevent this whole thing from spiraling out of control.

You went up first to freshen up and get ready for bed. You scanned the room to see how you’d share it with your ex. Considering Mingyu’s height, the long couch by the balcony would be cramped for him. Sure, he’d fit just fine but he’s the kind of sleeper who likes to sprawl on the bed and take up a lot of space. The floor would be cruel, but it has more space for sure.

“It’s better than the couch, right?” you mused aloud, making your way to the door to request an extra mattress. But hesitating, you withdrew your hand from the doorknob. The floor option suddenly seemed unwise because asking for an extra mattress would surely raise suspicions about the state of your relationship. Opting instead for the balcony couch, you arranged a pillow and sheets for Mingyu. Then after discreetly taking a sleeping pill, you passed out for the day.

Waking up and seeing Mingyu in the morning felt normal, that was until you realized he was across the room instead of right next to you in bed. You took a deep breath as you pushed yourself up, your eyes still fixed on Mingyu’s sleeping figure.

“Must’ve been uncomfortable,” you mumbled to yourself.

The bed you used to share was warm, familiar, and comforting. His arms were strong, providing security as you awoke to his scent and the enveloping warmth of his presence each morning. Sometimes he'd be up and out of bed before you were, and you'd wake up to the nice aroma of coffee waiting for you in the kitchen. Other times, you'd wake him with a simple breakfast of eggs and pancakes, your culinary expertise may have been limited, but your affection was boundless.

There were also times when you'd both wake too early, your passion spurred in the hush of early morning hours. He'd be gentle and quick, but you liked those kinds of mornings. You used to think the mornings you shared with Mingyu were mundane, uneventful, and slow, but looking back, those mornings now shimmer with newfound appreciation. Now that it's gone and you're missing it, you couldn't help but acknowledge the possibility that you might have taken it all for granted.

As you sat on the edge of your bed pondering, Mingyu stirred, taking a deep breath and letting out a long raspy exhale. He blinked at you several times, smiling once his vision became clearer.

“Good morning,” he sang. If you were still together, you’d immediately jump on him for a cuddle. Now that you’re not, it’s difficult to keep a straight face. You don't even know how to properly respond to that simple greeting.

“Morning,” you greeted back. Then again, if you were still together, he wouldn’t be sleeping on the couch to begin with. 

The land where the chateau sat is only a small part of the vast estate that your family owns. If one were to take a quick drive or a ten-minute hike up, they would find a meadow and a lake further ahead. As a child, you had picnics there often, especially in spring. In the winter, a white blanket of snow covers what used to be lush greenery, making it a perfect place for sledding. As such, it became a family activity every Christmas.

You stepped out of Mingyu’s car, blinking at the beautiful white canvas before you. Mingyu uttered a low “wow” as he approached you, smiling toothily while he tightened his padded jacket. You breathed the crisp air, exhaling through your mouth as you did. This wasn’t his first time sledding with your family, or experiencing the expansive landscape of your home. You had shared picnics with Mingyu in these areas, basking in the beauty of spring or summer. Those quiet moments are among your fondest memories with him.

“What do you think?” he asked, eyes gleaming. 

You shrugged. “I like it here better in spring.”

Behind you, you could hear the soft thuds of car doors being closed as your family members emerged from their vehicles.

“Oh, look! It’s perfect!” Blair cheered with her hands clasped together in delight. 

Your father chuckled heartily beside you and only then did you notice that he had caught up to you. He placed his arm over your shoulder, giving you a side hug as he said to your sister, “What did I tell you? That heavy snowfall last night will do us some good.”

Ecstatic, Blair dragged her husband towards the hill; the latter pulling a sled. Your cousins followed them, and your father too while you stood there pondering your choice to come here. Should you have just stayed with your mom and aunts back at home?

Allan approached Mingyu, giving him a nod. Mingyu smiled back, saying, “Hey, Al.”

“Hey. I don’t know how to say this but…” your brother paused, glanced over his shoulder at the excited children emerging from his car, and then shrugged at Mingyu. “Are you okay with a bunch of kids bothering you all day?”

“What does that even mean?” you interjected, although you weren’t part of the conversation.

“The boys want to go sledding with Mingyu,” Allan sighed, placing his hands on his waist. “Only with Mingyu.”

Mingyu chuckled. “It’s alright. I don’t mind.”

“Are you sure?” Allan probed, looking somewhat apologetic. Mingyu nodded in assurance. “Okay, man. Thanks a lot.”

You watched as Mingyu approached your brother’s truck with a big goofy grin. Your nephews cheered his name before jumping into his arms at the same time. Mingyu laughingly carried the boys off the truck and you found yourself impressed by how strong he was to be able to carry two big kids. Then again, he had always been strong. He works out a lot and his efforts show in his toned physique. You know damn well how ungodly gorgeous he looks underneath those thick layers of clothing.

You gasped, shocked by your lewd thought. Shaking your head in an attempt to clear your mind, you muttered, “What the fuck.”

“Come again?” Allan asked cluelessly.

“I was talking to myself,” you deadpanned. Allan said he’ll follow the others up the hill so you nodded at him and told him you’ll stay to take pictures. He didn’t object to that so you grabbed the camera in the car and went to find a good spot to take pictures of everyone.

For the next hour, everyone went up and down the hill in their sleds, their cheers and laughter echoing through the air. Your father was dragging your little niece in her bright pink sled. Daniel and your cousins are on the other side of the hill, having a snowball fight. They would sometimes include you by throwing snowballs at you but you would dodge and threaten to punch them if they didn’t stop– as if your tiny fist would inflict any real pain. Even Allan who was just grinning around got roped into the fight. Blair didn’t give sledding another go after her first time because she didn’t find it ‘as fun as it looked’; so she’s down the hill making a snowman with her husband.

You made sure to take pictures of everyone. As you did, you found your lenses being directed at Mingyu more often than you’d like to admit. You wanted to be pretentious and say it was because he and the kids were adorable, but you knew that you just couldn’t help yourself. He was just too close to your heart and of course, him with kids is impossibly adorable.

“y/n! Show me the pictures!” your sister called so you trekked the snow back to where the cars were parked.

You let them scan through the photos and left to go up and meet your niece and father halfway up the hill. Your father seemed tired so you thought it was best to let him rest and take the kid off his hands.

“I think she’s tired too,” your father said, chuckling as you climbed down. “She must have snoozed on her sled twice.”

“She did?” you asked, turning to your niece. “Did you snooze, baby? Are you tired? Do you wanna go home with Mom?”

The darling little girl just shook her head, her eyes focused on her parents. When they spotted you, your brother-in-law happily took her off your arms. There was a quick chat before they decided to go back to the chateau and call it a day. Everyone followed suit, running down the hill back to the cars after being called back—everyone, except for Mingyu who walked down the other side of the hill instead. You decided to follow him, stopping Allan on your way.

“Where is he going?” you asked your panting brother. He’s got one kid on his shoulders and the other on the sled he was dragging.

“Who?” he asked, following your gaze. “Oh, Mingyu? Charlie’s sled went missing. He said he'd go find it.”

You went after Mingyu, hiking up the hill and trekking down to the other side where you found him heading straight into the sparse woods. Surely the sled didn’t go as far as into the woods, right?

“Kim Mingyu!” you called out, running after him. Your feet sank into the snow as you did, making it a little hard to run fast. “Mingyu!”

Mingyu stopped upon hearing you, turning to look at you and wave. “Come here!”

You frowned when you noticed that he was holding a sled. “Where are you going?”

He didn’t respond but instead, waited for you to catch up to him. As soon as you did, you pointed to what he was holding. “Is that Charlie’s?”

“Yeah, it slid all the way to that tree over there,” he replied, pointing to the tree but you didn’t bother to look.

“And? Where else are you planning to go? Everyone’s leaving.”

Still grinning goofily, he grabbed your gloved hand and said, “Let’s go to the lake.”

“The lake?”

“Yeah. I saw it from up the hill. It looked awesome.”

You scoffed. “It’s probably frozen.”

“I know. Let’s check it out,” he chimed, dragging you but you didn’t budge. That made him stop and glance back at you with a pout.

You looked away, feigning indifference. “It’s this way.” 

Mingyu trailed behind you, his hand still tight around yours. While you waded through the snowy path, you tried to remember if you had ever gone to the lake with Mingyu before. You have, a few times, but not in winter. Usually, there was nothing special or pretty about it in winter. As kids, you were forbidden from playing at the frozen lake in case the ice broke and you fell in, so you have never tried it before. There was just no reason to go there, except maybe to look around and pass the time.

“Oh, wow,” he exclaimed upon arriving at the spot. 

As expected, it was frozen. It wasn't even the picturesque, crystal-clear kind of frozen, but rather a boring, unremarkable freeze.

Disappointed, you said, “Nothing to see here."

“Are you kidding me? It looks really cool,” he replied, but you knew he was just being polite.

“It’s really not,” you deadpanned. 

Mingyu chuckled. “You’re right. It’s not.”

“Okay. Let’s go then,” you retorted, tugging him back to where you came from.

Mingyu resisted, pulling back with enough force to make you lose your balance and bump into him. He held you in place, his face close and his breathing warm against your cheek. With a goofy grin, he asked, “Ever ice-skated on a lake before?”

“No, and this is not that kind of lake.”

“You haven’t ice-skated on a lake before?” he asked incredulously. “But there’s a lake right here.”

“This is a dangerous lake.”

“Why?”

“Because...” you trailed off, searching for an explanation. “To be honest, I'm not even sure why.”

The massive grin on Mingyu’s lips made you roll your eyes. It was the kind of expression that said he wanted to go ice skating on the lake. You’re not even wearing the right shoes. You don’t know how deep the lake goes, and you have no idea how thick the ice has gotten.

“Don’t be stupid, Gyu.”

“Come on! It's gonna be fun!”

“I think you meant 'dangerous'.”

“I’ll keep you safe,” he promised.

That made you grumble and stomp your feet a few times. “Ugh, fine!”

It was like releasing a dog from its leash in a park. Hand in hand, Mingyu excitedly rushed to the edge of the lake, where he cautiously tested the ice, first one foot and then the other. He took a few steps around and one small jump– then a big one that caused a surge of panic to grip you.

“Stop! What if it falls through?”

Mingyu threw his head back laughing. “It’s alright, the ice is pretty thick. Come here.”

You stared at the hand he was offering and then shook your head. Mingyu let out a small tut, seizing your hand firmly and guiding you toward the ice. You trod carefully as you went, looking down below at the murky water and wondering if it was solid enough to hold the two of you.

As you approached the center of the lake, Mingyu released your hand momentarily to zip up your jacket snugly. You pouted as he cupped your cheeks, still protesting at his idea of 'fun'.

"Just relax. I've got you. You'll be fine," he reassured, adjusting your beanie to shield your ears from the biting cold. You nodded, gradually getting used to the icy ground beneath your feet.

Just as you began to ease into the moment, breathing freely and feeling the tension in your muscles dissipate, Mingyu suddenly rushed forward, dragging you along with him toward the center. Panic surged through your veins, your heart racing uncontrollably.

Your shrieks tore through the quiet air, overlapping with Mingyu’s ecstatic laughter. You clung to his hand tightly, scared for good reason. If the ice breaks and you fall in, at least you won’t die alone–that was what you were thinking as you closed your eyes and let Mingyu run around in circles. And while you grappled with the chaos in your head, his reassuring reverberated through your ears.

"It's okay," he consoled, intertwining his fingers with yours. "I've got you! Open your eyes, baby."

You did as he asked, reluctantly opening your eyes to be greeted by a broad, toothy grin from your charming companion. Was he really persuasive? Or were you simply taken aback by the endearment he just used on you? Yes, you know he had been calling you that ever since you got here so to avoid raising suspicions on your pretense, but why did it send a surge of nostalgia this time?

It almost felt like the relief of finally experiencing something you had missed so dearly.

“See? How fun is this?” he shouted, still running with you.

"Not fun at all!"

"Really?" he asked again, skeptical. "Not even a little?"

Of all the people you have met so far in your life, Mingyu had the most contagious smile which was why he had you smiling in no time. Before you knew it, you were running around the frozen lake, fear and anxiety long forgotten. Your cheeks were flushed from the cold, and sore from laughing too much. Your shrieks echoed across the icy surface as he took his turn chasing after you. You didn't even notice how your goofing around has turned into a spontaneous game of tag.

Lost in the moment, you lost track of time, the hours slipping away unnoticed as you enjoyed each other's company and indulged the children in you.

“Caught you!” he exclaimed triumphantly, tackling near the edge of the lake, and sending both of you tumbling onto the soft snow.

You lay there breathless and giggling, feeling both exhilarated and euphoric from your shenanigans. Glancing sideways at him, you found him already looking at you, and both of you burst into laughter at each other's flushed faces. The chill of the snow against your neck soon became unbearable, prompting you to sit up. With a playful tap on Mingyu's chest, you urged him to do the same.

“God, I’m so tired,” he complained but the smile on his face never left.

“Yeah. You’re crazy energetic,” you retorted, letting out a long exhale.

Mingyu scooted closer to you, wrapping a hand around your waist. “But you had fun.”

Rolling your eyes, you leaned on his chest, comfortable in his warmth. “Yeah. I did.”

“Good. Let’s do that.”

“Do what?” you hummed, closing your eyes to bask in the warmth that was engulfing you.

“Oh, you know. Loosen up and take things easy,” he replied and that made you pull away to look at him.

“Meaning…?”

“Meaning we should stop worrying about it.” He tapped your nose affectionately, a warm smile on his lips. “It’s Christmas. Let's have fun.”

You sighed, the weight of your concerns heavy in your mind. "But that's not why we came here."

"I know," he acknowledged with a groan. "We'll get there eventually. For now, let's just... you know... forget about it. Just for now."

He was staring at you intently and you couldn’t help but stare right back. Everything about this moment was overwhelming—the cold, his warmth, his gaze, the proximity—everything. You both sat there face to face, quietly staring and speaking with your eyes only. At one point, it seemed as if you had come to a mutual decision on something, but you sat there waiting for him to make the first move.

“God, you look so beautiful in this light.”

Your heart somersaulted in your chest, but you were so tensed that you tried to humor the nerves away. “Did you just quote Ed Sheeran?”

Mingyu’s brows furrowed slightly, but his affectionate gaze remained. “And you’re so adorable too.”

At this point, your soul has left your body out of sheer joy. Still, you couldn't resist teasing him in response. “Duh, Mingyu. Tell me something I don’t know?”

“I could kiss you right now.”

You exhaled sharply. “Well, don’t be shy now.”

As Mingyu leaned in for a kiss, you closed your eyes in anticipation. You could already feel his breath fanning your face but before his lips could meet yours, the sound of car horns honking nearby shattered the beautiful air enveloping you. Startled, a loud gasp escaped your lips while Mingyu swiftly withdrew.

“What the actual f–” You stood up and spun to see whoever it was and spotted a pickup truck from a distance. Daniel’s head popped out from the window of the driver’s seat, followed by his shouting.

“What are you guys doing out here?” your brother called out, pressing on the horns again. “Everyone’s looking for you back at the chateau!”

You grumbled, stomping your feet as you walked towards the vehicle looking annoyed. Mingyu grabbed the sled he was looking for earlier and followed behind you. When you reached the truck, you stood by Daniel’s window with a deep scowl.

“Everyone thought you guys were dead or something,” he quipped, rolling his windows up just before you started pounding on it irritably.

“What? Can’t I have some alone time with my boyfriend?” you huffed, kicking the tire when you failed to open the door.

Daniel was making faces at you from inside the car while Mingyu chuckled behind you. He gently squeezed your shoulder to calm you down, but you glared at him instead. Mingyu instinctively backed away, raising his hands in surrender.

"Surely you won't take it out on your boyfriend, will you?" he asked with a coy grin. Your cheeks flushed with embarrassment, and seeing this, Mingyu puffed out his chest proudly and wiggled his eyebrows teasingly. "I am your boyfriend, right?"

“Gosh, men are so annoying,” you whined, reaching for the backseat door so you could climb into the car.

Making gingerbread houses is a serious activity in your house; it was a while competition between you, your sister, and everyone else who wants to challenge. As such, it has become your favorite activity since you were a child. You were amazing at it and would always come out on top with your intricate designs and sturdy outputs. That was when Mingyu wasn’t in the picture yet. Now, you’ve been on a lose streak for three Christmases in a row and this year doesn’t look promising either. 

“Mingyu! Careful with that!” you warned as he placed the roofing for your house. Mingyu froze mid-air, glancing at you nervously.

“I think you should do it,” he pleaded, chuckling nervously.

You rolled your eyes, grumbling as you carefully took the piece from his hand. Mingyu is a good cook, but pastry? Definitely not his forte. His big hands are among your favorite features of his, but it’s useless in any activity that requires careful handling and finesse.

Blair rounded the counter and approached you. She took a big sniff and said, “Hmm, it smells like a loser over here.”

You scoffed, nudging her elbow. “Go away!”

With immense focus, you placed the roofing on your gingerbread house successfully, dusting your hands contently right after. 

“You’re so good at this,” Mingyu whispered next to you, beaming. Proud, you scrunched your nose at him and opened your mouth when he offered a piece of bread for you to eat. 

“Daniel, dear,” your mother called from the doorway, catching everyone’s attention. “Come help with the tree.”

Daniel skipped across the room to your mom, making your cousin Sydney sigh in relief of finally getting rid of the blackhole in her team. 

“Mingyu, you too please.”

Mingyu nodded at her and turned to you to say, “I’ll be right back.”

“Okay,” you replied, not even glancing at him as he scooped your cheek for a kiss. “It’s okay if you don’t. I might have a bigger chance of winning if you don’t.”

“Where are they going?” Lena asked, eyeing the doorway.

“Mom’s probably setting up the Christmas tree for tonight,” you replied.

“Why? Isn’t there already a Christmas tree?” Lena questioned.

“It’s a chateau tradition,” Sydney explained. “Before Christmas Eve dinner, we decorate a tree as a whole family using special ornaments.”

“Special ornaments?”

Aunt Lydia, interjected, “Ornaments that hold sentimental value, Lena. This house has been in the family for generations and has seen over a hundred Christmases. Our family loves to look back and think about the history that has shaped this very family into who we are today.”

Lena hummed in amazement. “That’s so awesome and special.”

“It is.” You smiled, mirroring the fond looks on Blair and Sydney’s faces.

“It’s pompous if I do say so myself,” said a familiar voice entering the kitchen hall. You spun to see your Aunt Sylvie walk in with a charismatic air about her. She sauntered in, heels clicking on the floors. “It’s a reminder that we are high-born snobs. Trust fund babies who never have to work a day in our life and still live a life of luxury.”

“Oh, god,” Sydney muttered beside you, looking mortified. “She’s so late.”

“Hello, children,” she lilted, winking at you specifically when you met her gaze. Your heart felt full, forever in awe of your favorite relative.

“Sylvie?” your Aunt Lydia exclaimed.

Sylvie’s smile got redirected. “How nice of you to finally join us, Lydia. I couldn’t believe it when they told me.”

They both laughed as they embraced. Lena’s mom grinned playfully at aunt Sylvie. “Still living the high-born snobbish life?”

Sylvie tutted confidently. “It’s what I do best.” 

At first glance, Aunt Sylvie is no different from the rest of the family, but she’s the wild card. In a family known for its polished manners and prestigious accomplishments, she stood out like a rose in a garden of daisies. She lives a privileged life while staying unapologetically herself. Her laugh was always loud and infectious, her stories filled with both gossip and adventures.

“Going for the win this year, huh?” Aunt Sylvie remarked as she examined your work.

“That’s the plan,” you replied with a grin.

“Well, good luck. You have my vote, no matter what,” she promised, reaching for the wine bottle on the counter.

Blair protested, “Hey, that’s cheating!”

“Playing favorites, that’s what it is,” Sydney pouted. Aunt Sylvie giggled, sauntering over to Sydney and planting a playful kiss on her cheek. Sydney just rolled her eyes.

“Don’t worry, sweetie. You’re still my favorite daughter,” Sylvie teased, tucking a strand of Sydney’s hair behind her ear before strolling away with her glass of red wine.

“That’s because I’m your only daughter!” Sydney shouted after her, a smile tugging at her lips as her mother exited the kitchen.

Mingyu, Daniel, and Sydney’s boyfriend, Luke, burst into the kitchen, their laughter and chatter filling the room. Everything was going smoothly until Mingyu bounded over to you, knocking over your intricately decorated gingerbread Christmas tree. The tree, which you had painstakingly adorned with candy ornaments and icing, was supposed to be the crowning jewel of your work. Now, it lay in a heap of crumbs on the kitchen floor.

“Oh my god,” you muttered, staring blankly at the mess. “Kim Mingyu…”

“Oh, damn, did I do that?” he asked, looking genuinely bewildered. Neither of you could figure out how it happened; one moment it was standing, and the next it was on the floor.

Allan’s wife looked over, her eyes widening at the sight. “Oh, no, Y/N,” she exclaimed sympathetically.

Everyone else hurried over to see what had happened, their faces mirroring the same look of pity for you.

“I knew it smelled like a loser over here,” Blair snickered, unable to resist the jab.

The room fell silent for a moment before you managed a rueful smile. “Well, there goes my masterpiece.”

Mingyu sheepishly picked up a piece of gingerbread. “I’ll help you rebuild it,” he offered, his tone earnest and apologetic.

Daniel couldn’t hide his grin. “And destroy it again for good measure.”

The room was soon filled with laughter and playful teasing, all at your expense. You just took it in stride, although you were a little disheartened. Amidst all that, Mingyu pulled you into a warm hug, even kissing the top of your head.

“That’s okay, baby. Winning is great, but it’s nothing if you didn’t have fun doing it together,” he consoled you, although you could tell he was just teasing you like everyone else.

“Go away,” you scolded playfully.

It was as if you had never broken up at all. You shared more than just the playful moments at the lake or sweet displays of affection in the kitchen. During the family tree decorating, you and Mingyu were wrapped in your own world, laughing and giggling as you both struggled to untangle a string of lights—only to end up getting scolded for not helping enough.

For the Christmas Eve dinner, you wore an elegant green dress that received a dramatic round of applause from Mingyu. He stood up, clapping with exaggerated enthusiasm and making everyone laugh. You joined your family at a beautifully set dinner table, sharing stories and laughter over the delicious meal. You sat opposite Mingyu, which gave you both the perfect excuse to exchange loving glances throughout the evening, basking in the warmth and acceptance from everyone around you.

After dinner where Blair won the gingerbread house contest for the second time in a row, everyone gathered in the movie room, snuggling together under warm blankets. Your head rested on Mingyu’s chest, his arm wrapped protectively around your shoulder. Both of you felt content and at home in each other’s embrace. As the movie ended, the younger kids were tucked into bed, and the older family members began to retire to their rooms. You and your cousins had other plans.

In the cozy warmth of the game room, where you and the other young adults gathered for some unchaperoned bonding time of your own, the game of charades became wildly competitive and chaotic. You and Sydney huddled together on a big sofa, guessing the answers that the boys were acting out, groaning and cheering with everyone else as the game progressed. Drinks flowed freely, light and festive, keeping spirits high.

At one point, when the game got boring, everyone settled in front of the fire, sharing stories and cracking jokes. The flickering flames cast a warm glow on your faces, and the room was filled with the comforting sounds of laughter and clinking glasses. Everything was perfect, beautiful new memories were being made.

And then Mingyu managed to convince you to go out for a walk. Bundled up in sweaters and padded jackets, you clung to his arm for support, letting the cool winter evening sober you up. Mingyu kept cracking jokes, and you laughed like you were in a stand-up comedy bar. This went on until both of you reached the pool and decided to turn back.

The weather was cold, but the atmosphere was warm and sweet. And the smell—strangely enough, you enjoyed the sweet, smoky scent coming from the chimneys, much like how some people find the earthy smell after a rain shower pleasant and refreshing.

“What are you thinking about?" Mingyu asked, slinging his arm around your shoulder and pulling you close.

“Nothing, I…” you took a deep breath as you started walking back to the main house. "I just love Christmas.”

“I can see why,” he chuckled lightly, pressing a quick peck on the side of your head.

You rolled your eyes and moved your head a few inches away from him. “Hey, that’s rule number one.”

“Actually, it’s rule number two,” he corrected, grinning. “And can I please break it?”

“You’re only asking me that now? Literally, after you were done breaking it?”

Mingyu nodded with exaggerated seriousness. “Yes, ma’am.”

“Gosh, you’re so…” you huffed incredulously, taking his arm off your shoulder and walking ahead of him.

“Wait. Let’s go together,” he called, chuckling.

When he caught up to you, he held your hand and intertwined your fingers. His smile was warm, and also very goofy. You scoffed and laughed, unable to hide how charmed you were by him. Quietly, you trekked back to the house, your breaths visible in the cold air.

“Hot tub?” he asked as soon as you were in front of your bedroom door.

You were taken aback by the offer. “What?”

Mingyu chuckled nervously, equally flustered. He then cleared his throat and tried to keep a straight face. “I don’t mean… that. I meant you should get a warm bath in the hot tub before… Ugh, fuck.”

Mingyu turned away, burying his face in his palms and muttering curses under his breath. You, on the other hand, were still processing the situation. You were shocked that he was offering the hot tub, only to find out he didn’t mean it the way you understood it.

“God, it’s in my head now.”

“What is?” you asked, belatedly realizing it was a bad question. You should have known what he was trying to say. The hot tub in the bathroom of your bedroom was a very intimate place for the two of you. A hiccup escaped your lips as you put two and two together.

Awkwardly, you pushed the door open and said, “I’m gonna go ahead.”

You walked briskly inside the bedroom, eager to avoid being in the same space as Mingyu. But then you turned around and saw that he had walked inside too. How did you even forget that you were sharing this room?

There was a moment of silence as you both stood there, tension wrapping the room. Mingyu finally broke the ice, his voice soft and hesitant. “Look, I’m sorry if I made things weird.”

You sighed, shaking your head. “No, it’s okay. I just… didn’t expect it.”

Mingyu took a step closer. “I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable. I didn’t even mean it that way.”

You smiled faintly, feeling the warmth of his sincerity. “I know. Thanks, Mingyu.”

He grinned, the awkwardness slowly melting away. “How about I start the bath for you?”

You nodded, appreciating the gesture. “That would be nice.”

Mingyu moved to the bathroom, and you heard the sound of water filling the tub. You took off your jacket and sat on the edge of the bed, your mind swirling with thoughts. Soon, Mingyu returned, his eyes gentle as he said, “It’s ready.”

You stood up and walked to the bathroom, pausing at the doorway. “Do you want to join me? I mean, it was cold out there.”

Mingyu’s eyes widened in surprise, but then he smiled softly. “You said that’s rule number two.”

You nodded. “I know.”

“Is it alright with you?”

You nodded again, feeling a mix of nervousness and anticipation. “It is.”

Both of you undressed and slipped into the hot tub, the warm water enveloping you in a soothing embrace. Mingyu sat across from you, his eyes never leaving yours. The intimacy of the moment was undeniable, the heat of the water matched by the growing warmth between you.

Mingyu reached out, his hand finding yours under the water. “I’ve missed this,” he murmured.

I’ve missed you, you screamed in your head. You could never say it out loud, so you just squeezed his hand gently and said, “Me too.”

The bath was a haven of warmth and quiet conversation, the water relaxing your muscles and easing the tension between you. After a while, you both got out and dried off, slipping into comfortable pajamas.

Back in the bedroom, you climbed into bed, tapping the space beside you when you saw Mingyu heading for the couch. He took your invitation and slid in beside you. You both lay there in the dark, the silence a total contrast to the chaos in your head. Finally, he turned towards you, his arm wrapping around your waist as he pulled you close.

“Goodnight,” he whispered, his breath warm against your neck.

“Goodnight,” you replied, your voice soft and content.

As you drifted off to sleep in his arms, the awkwardness of the evening was replaced by a comforting sense of closeness. The warmth of his embrace and the sound of his breathing lulled you to sleep, both of you feeling at home in each other’s arms once more.

Waking up beside Mingyu felt like stepping back in time, the familiarity of his presence was bittersweet. He lay there, peaceful in the soft glow of the winter morning. You were just beginning to forget how it felt like to wake up next to him, now here he is, looking as breathtaking as you remembered him to be. This whole pseudo-relationship setup truly was a bad idea because you can already picture yourself resetting your moving-on process back to Day 1.

Or maybe, by the end of this, there will be no need to forget and move on, you pondered to yourself, feeling hopeful.

You fought with the urge to reach out and touch him, to let your fingers trace the lines of his face, reminding yourself that you were no longer in that kind of relationship. After all, you had made it clear that this was no longer that kind of relationship.

But wait… Why were you so hesitant about touching him? You were literally in the same hot tub the night before, bare and naked. Why would you be so wary about something as innocent as running your fingers through his hair? Hadn't you already crossed boundaries far more intimate than this?

Swallowing your pride and the lump in your throat, you slowly extended a hand to touch his face. Slowly, carefully, making sure you don’t wake him up. Just as you were feeling the warmth emanating from his skin, the ringing of your phone on the nightstand snapped you back into reality. Cursing under your breath, you snatched the phone from the nightstand, the name "Daphne" flashing insistently on the screen.

Your movements made Mingyu stir, groaning lowly as he stretched his legs out; sleepy eyes directed at you. With a raspy voice, he said, “Hi.”

“Hi. Sorry,” you mouthed, phone pressed on your ear. “Daph, hello. What’s up?”

“Sorry to bother you while you’re spending the holidays with your beau– oh, ex-beau,” she teased, snickering from the other line. “How is it? Have you got back together yet?”

“Please shut up,” you laughed nervously, eyeing Mingyu. You excused yourself and headed to the bathroom to speak with your friend in private.

“I guess it’s not going so well, huh?” she asked just as you were locking the bathroom door.

“Daph, the purpose of this trip is not to get back together,” you insisted, rolling your eyes although she could not see it. “Where did you even get that idea?”

Grumbling, you snatched your toothbrush and put toothpaste on it to clean your teeth with.

“I don’t know. Maybe from my exuberant interior designer who was just shopping with me the other day,” she retorted, poking fun at you. “Alright, I’m sorry. I was just teasing you. I actually called to let you know that I got called into the store because some materials came in that I don’t remember ordering. So, naturally, I assumed these are for the renovations?”

“What are they?” you asked back with the toothbrush still in your mouth.

“It says here that these are gold-plated clothing racks, premium quality.”

You hummed, confused. “I didn’t order anything like that.”

“Oh, is that so? Alright. Maybe I did. Or someone I know,” she sighed and tutted. “Anyway, I’ll sort this out. Sorry to bother you.”

“Call me anytime, Daph,” you told her, your eyes darting to the bathroom door when you heard a loud thud from outside.

“I will. Tell everyone I said ‘hi’. And don’t swoon over your ex too much.”

“Whatever,” you sighed, exasperated. 

“Merry Christmas, sugar.”

“Merry Christmas.”

When you pushed through the door, you found Mingyu sitting on the edge of the bed, looking dazed with messy hair and a tired stare. He lifted his gaze when he noticed you, and flattened his lips into a sleepy smile.

“What happened?” you asked worriedly, taking notice of the blanket and pillow on the floor.

“Oh, nothing, I just…” Mingyu sighed, scratched his neck, and stretched it sideways. “I fell.”

You gawked at him. “You fell?”

He nodded, sheepish. You exhaled sharply, not even surprised. Mingyu, as big as he is, is by far the clumsiest person you’d ever met.

“Go wash up,” you instructed, walking towards the pile of beddings to pick them up. Instead of heeding your order, Mingyu snatched you by the waist, making you squeal as he swept you up and fell on the bed with you.

You tried to free yourself from his arms, but he was stronger than you by miles. “Let me go, Gyu.”

He hummed his disapproval and nuzzled on your neck. “Let’s stay in bed all day today, okay?”

“No,” you whined, squirming but he pinned you down. Despite your efforts to escape, he only seemed to take it as a challenge, launching into a relentless tickle attack.

“Kim Mingyu! No!” you warned sternly, pointing your index finger at him in an attempt to assert authority..

The grin that he gave you was menacing. “Kim Mingyu, yes.”

“Mingyu, I swear to God I will— aaaagh!” Shrieks and laughter filled your bedroom, along with Mingyu’s taunting and deep grunts each time you kicked his shins or punched his chest. He kept going until tears started streaming from your eyes from too much laughter. Only when your pleading voice began cracking did Mingyu stop.

“Gosh. You’re so annoying!” you sobbed, infuriated. He laid beside you on the bed, wrapping you back in his embrace.

“Sorry, baby,” he whispered, kissing your forehead. “I was just playing around with you.”

“Well, it was not fun! Playing is supposed to be fun!” you scolded, swatting his arm away.

“I know. I’m sorry,” he shushed.

But you continued whining. “No, you’re not!”

You managed to get away from him and leave the bed to slump on the sofa and sulk. Mingyu sighed, although he looked genuinely apologetic. He always teased you like this, knowing how ticklish you were. And you always responded this way too, sulking and whining as much as you want.

“Baby…” he called softly, making his way to you.

“Don’t you call me that!” you retorted sharply.

Mingyu chuckled. “Okay, sweetheart.”

You scoffed. “What are you, my mom?”

“Then, ‘honey’ maybe?” he chimed.  You pushed him away with your foot, but he kept himself rooted in place, easily.

“Go away!”

"What about, 'darling'?" he continued, kneeling before you as he set your foot back down. He placed a gentle kiss on your knee, his lips lingering before trailing up your thigh. "My angel?"

The way he caressed your thigh tickled you in a way that was entirely different from what he did a while ago. This time was more sensitive, and pleasant… very pleasant.

“My love?” he sang, taking your hand and kissing the back of it.

You snatched your hand back, sighing as you scooted a little on the couch. “Stop it.”

Mingyu occupied the space next to you, touching your chin and lifting it so your eyes would meet his. “Why? I said I was sorry. Do you hate me for real?”

"No," you admitted with a pout, looking away. He gently redirected your gaze back to him.

You held his gaze, still scowling, but Mingyu's sweet smile softened your expression. He studied your face as if he didn’t already know it by heart, his eyes lingering on your lips. You flattened them together to discourage his advances, but he only chuckled and tapped your nose.

“You’re so cute,” he remarked.

You scoffed. “I know. Can’t say the same for you, though.”

Mingyu threw his head back in laughter before fixing his gaze on your lips again. For a moment, you thought he might kiss you, but before it could happen, loud knocks on your bedroom door interrupted the moment. Mingyu rose to open the door, revealing your oldest brother dressed as Santa Claus, complete with a fluffy white beard and a jolly laugh.

“Ho ho ho! Merry Christmas, children!” Allan greeted, drawing candies from his bag and throwing them in the air.

“Ha ha. It’s Santa,” you deadpanned, unamused.

Allan looked at Mingyu and then at you. “Good. You’re both decent. Let’s go open some gifts.”

He then walked away with his Santa laugh, while Mingyu beckoned you to the door. You said you’d wait for him, so he hurried to the bathroom to freshen up and while he was in there, you were scolding yourself for the way things are going. You kept reminding yourself that there is no getting back together, just making your family happy. That conversation with Daphne was a needed wake-up call.

“Are you ready?” Mingyu asked when he stepped out of the bathroom. You nodded and so you went to join your parents together. 

Everyone’s gathered in the living room, some of them still yawning and out of it. The kids were excited, jumping around and rushing to Mingyu when they saw you two descending the stairs. 

A younger kid, wide-eyed with excitement, piped up, "Your friend is not coming today, Mingyu?"

"Yeah, the Grinch friend!" another kid exclaimed.

“Grinch! Grinch! Grinch!”

You chuckled, knowing exactly who they were referring to. It was from last year when Daniel was Santa and Mingyu decided to come as The Grinch. But instead of ruining Christmas, he spoiled the kids with huge supplies of chocolates and sweets. You can still remember how the moms reacted to that— mad. But since he’s Mingyu, he got away with it.

As the family gathered around the Christmas tree, you all took turns opening presents. Santa, aka Allan, gleefully announced each gift, adding to the festive atmosphere. Then, amidst the wrapping paper and excitement, you heard Santa call out that Mingyu had something for you. You were surprised, considering you had agreed not to exchange gifts this year.

With a sheepish grin, Mingyu handed you a small box. Inside was a delicate necklace, simple yet elegant, just your style. You couldn't help but smile, touched by the gesture.

“Thank you,” you told him, examining the jewelry.

“You’re welcome,” he chimed, his hand pressed in the middle of your back.

“Well, what are you waiting for?” your father prompted after a few seconds. “Put it on her!”

“Yeah!”

For the amusement of your family, Mingyu put the necklace on you himself, his fingers deftly fastening the clasp as everyone watched with amusement. It was small moments of intimacies like this that will convince your family that everything is fine— that Mingyu is a part of you, of them.

The excitement of opening gifts soon subsided, and a long table of breakfast buffet was brought in for those who wanted to eat. While you sat to eat with some of your family members, the others went out to play in the snow. You watched them from the large windows, smiling absent-mindedly as Mingyu, in his element, was building a snowman with your niece while fending off the snowballs being thrown at him by the little boys. He was so good with the kids and they loved him so much for it.

“So, when did you two get back together?” your Aunt Sylvie prompted casually as she sliced through her waffles.

Caught off-guard, you blinked. “I’m sorry. What?” 

“I thought you broke up with him?” she asked again and suddenly, the vivid memory of you drunk calling your aunt and wailing about how you broke up with Mingyu flashed in your mind.

You opened your mouth to speak but your other cousin Felicity cut you off. “You guys broke up?”

“What? When?” Blair chimed in, visibly confused.

Aunt Sylvie erupted into laughter, though a hint of awkwardness lingered beneath her merriment. “Sorry, y/n. I got you mixed up with your other cousin. She and Billy parted ways over the summer.”

“Right,” you acknowledged, a wave of relief washing over you as the memory of your tipsy phone call to Aunt Sylvie resurfaced.

“Oh, of course, Auntie Sylvie. Tricia was here with her new boyfriend.”

“Hmm. I know. I thought it was Billy, to be honest. She certainly has a type,” she told Sydney who just giggled.

Sydney's voice rang out with conviction. “There’s no way y/n and Mingyu would break up.”

"Of course." Aunt Sylvie's laughter gradually subsided as the misunderstanding was clarified. “Say, Blair, aren’t you due to give birth this month?”

“No. Seriously,” Sydney interjected, her tone firm. “I know people break up all the time, but y/n and Mingyu are just… different. They’re so in love, it’s actually enviable sometimes.”

“That’s true. They’re so compatible, it’s almost hard to believe such a relationship exists,” your cousin added, her words laced with admiration.

“Guys…” you chimed in, feeling a mix of embarrassment and guilt as all eyes turned to you.

“Have you seen Mingyu? That guy is down bad.”

“Agreed. So bad. He’s in deep,” Sydney chuckled, reminiscing. “Did you know he used to bring her flowers every day when we were in college? Every. Single. Day.”

“He even sang to her once,” Blair teased, shooting you a playful look. “Which was adorable, considering he’s not a singer.”

“Definitely not.”

“So he’s a simp?” one person quipped, prompting laughter from the group.

“But did you see the way he looked at her?” Lena interjected. “I’ve only met the guy this weekend, but I can tell by the way they look at each other.”

“Yeah, we’ve seen it, Len. You should see them when they’re playing or just hanging out by themselves. They are in love.”

“And even when we’re all gathered together, these two always have their own world. It's like they’re here, but they are also in their own separate bubble at the same time.”

“He’s so sweet too. He seemed to know exactly how to make y/n feel confident and pretty and loved… You know what I’m saying?”

“Honestly!” one of your older cousins affirmed. “One time my little girl asked me why her dad and I weren’t as sweet as you guys.”

Felicity snickered. “Yeah. I was there at the time, and when I tell you, I screamed!”

“She’s four, guys. Four. She doesn’t even know that my name is not ‘Mom’,” she added, eliciting laughter from the group.

“Well, my sister said she’ll find herself someone like Mingyu,” Sydney recounted, causing Aunt Sylvie to gasp.

“Rue? She said that?”

“Oh, yeah, she did. You better watch out, y/n. She might come for your man when she finds out how hard it is to find someone remotely close.”

The perception of a "perfect" couple often serves as a beacon of hope for others, a shining example of enduring love in a world filled with uncertainty. People hold onto these ideals, weaving fantasies of their own fairytale romance inspired by the ideal relationship they see before them. But what happens when that illusion is shattered?

If you and Mingyu were their definition of true love, the news of your breakup would undoubtedly come as a shock to those who idolized your relationship. It might even shake the foundation of their belief in lasting love, causing them to question if such a thing truly exists. Will it be your fault if little children like Sabrina’s daughter stop believing in true love?

But the truth is, you and Mingyu were never meant to be seen as perfect or ideal. Like any other couple, you had your flaws and imperfections, but you chose to keep them to yourselves. Your struggles were kept behind closed doors, known only to you and Mingyu as you worked through them together. No one ever witnessed your arguments or disagreements because you believed you must not involve other people in your private business. And perhaps it was this commitment to privacy that led others to believe that your breakup was impossible. But as much as they may have wanted to believe in the fairytale of your love story, the reality is that relationships are complex and sometimes, they don't end happily.

So no, it wouldn't be your fault if people stopped believing in love because of your breakup. Love is not defined by the length of a relationship or the perceived perfection of a couple. It's a journey filled with ups and downs, twists and turns, and sometimes, even endings. And while your breakup may have shattered the illusion of a fairytale romance for some, it doesn't change the fact that what you had was beautiful and the love that they witnessed was true.

Blair’s hand on your arm pulled you out of your musings. With a smile, she said, “I’m not trying to skip ahead or anything, but if you and Mingyu do end up getting married, it will probably be the best match I have ever seen in my entire life.”

“Amen!” Felicity cheered, raising her glass in the air. The others did the same, except you who gazed outside the window where you could see Mingyu.

As if aware that someone was watching him, Mingyu glanced back at you, waving happily when he spotted you.

The festivities continued in your home for the rest of the day, with everyone doing their own thing but in the same room. Kids were running around, and adults were chatting over wine and snacks. You joined your mother at the stairs as she watched the festivities with a fond look on her face.

“Look at them,” she told you when you approached her and wrapped your arms around her waist. 

You hummed, looking at your family. “Yeah. They’re so noisy.”

Your mother chuckled heartily, rubbing your back. “But don’t you just love this sight? Everyone is smiling and laughing. Everyone is present to spend Christmas with us.”

“Yeah, well. I guess it’s nice,” you replied, feigning indifference despite understanding her sentiments. Like her, you breathed a contented sigh, watching your family.

“You know, I didn’t grow up with Christmas traditions. Unlike most families, mine didn’t care much for Christmas,” she began, making you glance at her. “Your grandparents divorced when I was little. They would send a gift and a card each year but I knew neither of them picked those for me. It was probably their assistants. There is no way my father would know I liked unicorns,” she laughed heartily.

“That’s terrible. I could never imagine a Christmas that’s different from what we have every year,” you confessed. 

“I know. Marrying your father gave me the chance to celebrate something so beautiful with a family who may not be the most perfect but just as special.”

Your eyes were fixed on your father, dancing groovily in the middle of the room to an old tune your uncle had just put on. He pointed at your mother, beckoning her to join him. She did, happily so. Everyone cheered as they danced together, ever-loving and sweet to each other. It was a heartwarming sight, and you realized that if there’s a couple to look up to, it’s your parents—the most compatible pair. She was the calm to his storm, the peace to his chaos. He brought color to her monotonous life. While he spoke impulsively, she grounded him with thoughtful words. While he spoiled you and your siblings, she kept the household in check. They were the perfect balance, each complementing the other. When they said there was a woman behind every successful man, they must have been right.

You watched fondly as everyone cheered for your parents, the other couples eventually joining in. Your eyes met Mingyu’s in the crowd, and he gestured for you to join him on the dance floor. You shook your head briskly. If there’s one thing you’d never do, it’s dancing in front of other people.

“Come on, love!” he called out again.

“No way. I’ll pass. Have fun, though.”

He insisted, and soon your other relatives joined in, urging you to dance. But you stood your ground. When Mingyu started walking towards you, you bolted up the stairs, heading straight for your bedroom. Mingyu was hot on your tail, calling your name playfully while you shrieked. You fumbled with the door, trying to lock it as soon as you got inside, but Mingyu pushed through before you could bolt it shut.

“There is no parallel universe where you can outrun me, baby,” he breathed, pulling you by the waist so you’re flush against him.

“I’d still try, though,” you exclaimed, breathless and laughing, as Mingyu wrapped his arms around you, spinning you around the room. “You never give up, do you?”

“It depends on the fight, honestly,” he confessed, making you stop as you began overthinking again. However before you could form a coherent thought, Mingyu gave you a lift.

It made you laugh, and when your feet touched the floor again, you eased into the moment, staring at Mingyu as you swayed around the room. The music was faint and barely audible, coming all the way from the great hall downstairs. You had always known you were a terrible dancer, but Mingyu was good at it. It was easy to follow his lead, almost as easy as getting lost in the depths of his gaze. You were completely absorbed, totally entranced. How could you not be when he looked at you like his life depended on it?

“You're doing great,” he whispered, his voice low and reassuring. His hand on your waist guided you gently, and you felt a surge of confidence. 

“I know I’m not good, Gyu,” you admitted, a shy smile tugging at your lips. “You don’t have to lie.”

"But you’re perfect now," he said, his eyes never leaving yours. "Just follow me."

With each step, you fell into a rhythm, moving together in a seamless dance. The room seemed to shrink, the walls closing in until it felt like there was nothing but the two of you, swaying in the quiet of your bedroom and making a memory you probably would never forget.

“You make it easy,” you whispered, feeling a warmth spread through you that had nothing to do with the dance. 

Mingyu's smile widened, and he spun you gently, bringing you back into his arms with a flourish. “You make everything better,” he said softly.

The sincerity in his voice made your heart skip a beat. Before you could respond, he dipped you low, his strong arms supporting you effortlessly. As he brought you back up, your faces were inches apart, his breath warm on your face.

The world around you blurred and the faint music from downstairs became a distant hum. All you could see, all you could feel, was Mingyu. The intensity of his gaze, the way his arms held you so securely, the way his lips hovered just a breath away from yours.

Unable to resist any longer, he closed the distance, his lips meeting yours in a kiss that was soft at first, then deepened as the emotion between you surged. The kiss was a blend of longing, unspoken words, and unfulfilled promises, and it felt like coming home. It was like you lost something and only found it now. It felt like you belonged there; like this is the only thing you have and will ever know.

When you finally pulled away, you were both breathless, your foreheads resting together as you tried to steady your racing hearts.

“I can’t believe that just happened,” he said, making you scoff.

“Are you regretting it?”

“No!” he denied, throwing his head back as he laughed. “I just didn’t think you would let me.”

You playfully hit his arm, and he caught your hand, still chuckling. You rested your head on his chest, swaying gently with him. After a moment, Mingyu stopped and took a deep breath.

“So…“ he began, making you look up at him. “Do you wanna… make out or something?“

You laughed incredulously, both embarrassed and amused. “Why are you acting like we’re teenagers?“

“I haven’t really grown much after my teenage years,“ he said, shrugging. “So this has basically been my height since I was eighteen. You know, I was taller than my dad, which was crazy because—“

You cut him off with a kiss, frustrated by his nervous rambling. That's just another reason why he’s so endearing; he becomes a blabbering mess when he's nervous.

“You’re yapping,” you told him after parting from his lips. “Don’t be nervous. It’s just me.”

Mingyu laughed nervously. “That’s the thing. It’s you… I’m nervous because it’s you.”

You rolled your eyes, but you were grinning. “You think sweet talk will sweep me off my feet?”

He shrugged. “Not really, but I do know how to sweep you off your feet.”

“How?”

Without warning, Mingyu lifted you into his arms, literally sweeping you off your feet, and carried you over to the bed. You both fell onto the mattress, you giggling and him grinning mischievously. He lay next to you, staring at you for a second before cupping your cheek and pulling you in for another kiss.

“I’m not nervous anymore,” he boasted, grinning against your lips.

You just laughed, leaning to give him a peck on the lips. As you lay entwined with Mingyu, the winter afternoon light filtered by the curtains cast gentle shadows across the room. His fingers traced delicate patterns down the length of your arm, evoking a shiver of anticipation. His lips crashed into yours again, and this time you welcomed him with vigor; tugging at the back of his neck and grabbing a handful of his hair as he deepened the kiss.

His hand found your waist, squeezing firmly as your tongues melded together in the kiss. You pouted when he pulled away, only to let out a faint moan when his mouth moved to your neck.

“Is this okay?” he asked as he slowly tugged the sleeves off your shoulder and planted a soft kiss on the exposed skin. 

“Yes,” you told him, ignoring the screams of protest in your head. “It’s more than okay.”

Mingyu exhaled sharply, your permission making him more ravenous. His mouth scaled your neck, sucking and nipping at the skin of your collarbone and shoulder blade. You didn’t even notice that he had stripped you off of your dress until you felt his hand roaming your bare torso.

“Mingyu…” you echoed. In the intimacy of the moment, you realized just how much you had missed his touch, how his every caress seemed to awaken a yearning that you didn’t realize was very strong until now. His lips found yours again in a tender kiss, a silent promise of the passion that lay ahead.

“I’ve missed you, y/n,” he breathed, caressing your cheek. “I was so lost without you.”

You held his gaze, tenderly and lovingly as you reached for his face and leaned to kiss him. “You’ve found me, Gyu. I’m right here.”

He kissed you again, only briefly before he sat up to discard his shirt far across the room. He then hovered over you, his gaze intense as he took in the view of your nakedness before him. Dipping low, he kissed your lips, then your neck, down to your collarbone, and then your chest where your heart is. His gentle hands cupped your clothed bosoms in a firm grasp as his lips moved further down to your belly.

And amidst the whirlwind of sensations, your mind is in a mess knowing that this moment will inevitably lead to something more. You knew all too well the consequences of surrendering to this desire, the inevitable pain that would follow. You should not. You must not. This is the worst that could happen. These thoughts, equipped with detailed explanations, swirled in your head in an attempt to drag you away from the lure of desire. 

But in the heat of the moment, you stared into Mingyu’s eyes as he positioned his head between your legs, one finger stroking your moistened underwear. Right then, your rationality fell apart and you ignored its calls. Then again, when have you ever listened to reason?

A gasp escaped your lips as soon as Mingyu’s tongue did what it came to do. His every stroke sent ripples of pleasure throughout your body, numbing your mind. You grabbed a fistful of his hair, moaning and calling out his name. As if he wasn’t already doing too much, Mingyu pushed a finger inside for good measure. You could feel your body twitching as the tease of release neared, and your eyes blurred with too much stimulation.

Please don’t stop, you screamed, but only in your head. Mingyu, however, stopped at that very moment, sitting up on the bed and gazing at your fucked out expression. His grin was menacing, satisfied by the view before him.

“You love that, don’t you?” he lilted, licking his lips cockily. Watching him unbuckle his belt almost made you cry as every fiber of your being begged for him to touch you again, to be one with him in body and soul.

“Mingyu…” you pleaded, not even hiding your desperation. Mingyu hurriedly hovered over you, kissing your forehead and caressing your face.

“Don’t cry, baby,” he said sweetly, kissing your lips and laughing when you chased after it. “I’m right here.”

Mingyu would never make you wait; he could not. He’s weak against your pleas and his fervor is about fifty times more than yours. So he gave you what you both wanted, pushing into you languidly with one movement. You whimpered due to the agonizing pleasure, back arching towards him as your body responded. His thrusts and unrestrained grunts had you spiraling, your nails embedded in his skin as you held onto him for dear life.

Worried you were being too loud, you bit your lip to stifle your moans, giving Mingyu a pleading look as you stared at each other. He smirked at you and stopped moving for a second. Without a warning, he did a sudden, hard, heavy, and deep thrust that had you yelping in bliss.

“Bite your lips again, I dare you.”

You raised an eyebrow, clueless but only momentarily. Breathless and hoarse, you asked, “Why not?”

“I want to hear you.”

Did he really think you disliked his little ‘punishment’ in any way? Feeling mischievous, you challenged him by biting your lips once more, making him ram into you roughly again. You bit back your moans so he did it again. Once more, and twice, until he finally realized that you were doing it on purpose.

Laughing darkly, Mingyu ducked to kiss you, his lips moving to your cheek and then nibbling on your ear before whispering, “You naughty naughty little lady.”

And so you surrendered yourself to him completely, losing yourself in the sweet oblivion of his touch. His hand explored every inch of your body, tracing the outlines of your curves with a gentle touch that left you breathless. Your bodies danced to the rhythm of desire and you cried each other’s names in ecstasy brought by release. It was a moment of pure bliss, a fleeting glimpse of paradise in a world filled with chaos and uncertainty.

You’ve done it, y/n, you told yourself. You’ve passed the point of no return.

You lay nestled against Mingyu, your head resting on his chest, listening to the steady rhythm of his heartbeat. His arm wrapped around you securely, his fingers drawing lazy circles on your back. The warmth of his skin against yours was a stark contrast to the cold that loomed beyond the windows, and you sighed contentedly, feeling utterly at peace.

Mingyu shifted slightly, pulling the blanket up to cover you both more snugly. "Are you warm enough?" he asked softly, his voice low and gentle.

You nodded, nuzzling closer to him. "Perfectly warm," you whispered.

He tightened his hold on you, pressing a gentle kiss to the top of your head. A comfortable silence settled between you, broken only by the soft sounds of your breathing. You felt his hand travel up to your hair, his fingers threading through the strands, soothing and calming. 

"Do you remember your first Christmas up here? We were sledding all afternoon and got caught in a snowstorm?" you asked, a smile playing on your lips at the memory.

Mingyu chuckled, a deep, warm sound that vibrated through his chest. "Yeah. It snowed hard that time. We had to hide in the cabin across the estate."

You hummed. “It was so cold. And the fireplace wouldn’t work."

"We had to keep each other warm," he added, laughing softly. His eyes met yours, filled with the same warmth and affection you felt. "Best snowstorm ever."

You sighed, closing your eyes and letting yourself enjoy the moment. It felt so natural, so right, to be in his arms again.

As the minutes ticked by, the steady rise and fall of his chest lulled you into a state of near-sleep. His warmth, his scent, the feel of his skin against yours—it was all so familiar, yet achingly new. You knew this would end, that reality would creep back in, but for now, you allowed yourself to bask in the moment, to let yourself be wrapped up in him.

“I wish we could stay like this,” you murmured, your voice barely above a whisper.

“We can, for a little while longer,” Mingyu replied, his voice equally soft. “Let's just enjoy this, okay?”

You nodded, a sense of calm washing over you. “Okay,” you agreed, snuggling closer.

But then your thoughts became too much to contain, one question repeatedly echoing in your head. “What about after this?”

“Hmm?” Mingyu inquired, opening his eyes slightly.

You pulled away from him, moving back a little so you could see his face properly. “What happens after this?”

Mingyu chuckled sleepily, pulling you back into his embrace. “Is that necessary? We’re having lots of fun. Let’s not spoil it with depressing conversations.”

His response stirred something in you—rage. A blind rage that made the veins on your forehead pulse. You exhaled sharply, pulling away again. “Why are we doing this?”

“What do you mean?” he asked, propping himself up on his elbows.

“We came here to fool my family, Gyu. Not for...” you paused, looking at the cozy state of your bed. “...this. Whatever this is!”

You kicked the sheets off your legs and stood up at once, pacing the room as you massaged your aching temples.

“Baby, come on,” Mingyu sang, following after you to pull you into his arms. You let him hug you, pressing your cheek against his chest while he ran his fingers through your hair. “Don’t do this.”

“Don’t do what, Mingyu?” you groaned, pushing him with weakened arms while you tried your best not to sob. “Don’t do what? I don’t even know what we’re doing.”

His grip tightened around you, his voice a soothing whisper. “We’re just living in the moment, taking what we can get. Isn't that enough?”

You shook your head, tears finally spilling over. “No, it’s not. I can’t just pretend this doesn’t mean anything.”

Mingyu sighed, his own expression conflicted. “Babe—”

“Stop calling me that, please!“ you pleaded, crouching down on the floor as you felt your knees give out. You buried your face in your hands, hiding behind your hair as you sobbed. “I knew this was a bad idea. I fucking knew it!“

The room fell silent, the only sound being your sniffling. Your mind was a mess, and your heart throbbed painfully. After some time, you felt Mingyu’s hand on your back, the other on your knee.

“I’m sorry,” Mingyu whispered, his voice barely audible as he kissed the top of your head. “I’m so sorry.”

You lifted your head, meeting his apologetic gaze. “You don’t love me at all, do you?”

“Why would you even say that?”

“Because you wouldn’t be apologizing if you did.”

He uttered your name, the anguish on his face making your heart ache even more. You wished you could read his mind, wished he would open up and let you in on his deepest thoughts about your relationship.

“I love you, y/n... I loved you so much.”

“Then why did we break up?”

“Because it’s what you wanted.”

“You never fought me about it!” you cried, standing up and pacing away from him. You wiped the tears from your cheeks with the back of your hand. “You just walked out the door, Mingyu! You left without so much as a fight. It was like you were waiting for it to happen!”

“That’s not true!” he protested, standing up as well, his voice rising in desperation.

“Then why didn’t you say so?“

“Because you wanted it! I was just giving you what you want.” He slumped back on the couch. “You didn’t want me anymore. I knew it, I saw it, I felt it.”

“Can you blame me?” you asked incredulously. “You were too busy, Gyu. You had no time for us!“

“I was a newbie at work. Of course, I was busy,“ he retorted, still in a low voice but you could hear the frustration in his voice. “I was swamped with work, but I made sure to come home to you. I made time for you. I tried my best not to neglect you.“

“You tried, huh? Well, if you really did, I would have noticed it but I didn’t! You were always tired. We could go on not speaking a word to each other for hours. And then out of nowhere, you’ll be in the mood to have sex,“ you scoffed, laughing derisively. “What makes you think you can ignore me all day and I would still open my legs for you when you ask for it?“

Mingyu sighed, shutting his eyes in frustration. “Oh my god, y/n. You stopped having sex with me, did you forget? Even on days when we’re getting along, you never let me touch you. You always had excuses and I respected them. Some of them are ridiculous by the way, but I respected them all the same!”

He was right, but you weren’t ready to give up yet. “Then why did you change so much? You even stopped trying to fix things whenever we fought. You just go to bed and sleep like nothing was wrong!”

“That’s because you kept picking a fight over the smallest things! I can’t keep having all these stupid arguments with you,” Mingyu groaned, gesturing wildly.

“Exactly!” you hollered, exasperated. “That’s exactly the problem. It didn’t matter how small it was before. We always, always made up before the day ended.”

“You mean me?” Mingyu smirked mockingly. “We? There was no ‘we’ when it came to fighting. You never tried to make up, y/n. It was always me. No matter whose fault it was, I was always the first to apologize because you could never lower your goddamned pride!”

“Are you saying—”

“Stop it. Please, just fucking stop!” he snarled, finally losing his patience. His aggression startled you, making you take a few steps back. Mingyu was scowling, his jaw clenched, eyes filled with pain and indignation. He looked away, muttering curses as he ran his hands through his already wild hair.

He let out a big sigh before saying, “You can’t tell me that I didn’t fight because I did! I was there; I never left. Even with the pressure of securing a regular position at work, I tried to be a good partner to you. Even during your unreasonable fits, I stayed. Even when it felt like there was no hope, I fucking stayed! Your decision to break up was the last straw, y/n! It was the last straw! I was…” Mingyu’s voice cracked as he struggled to hold back tears. He tightened his lips and placed his hands on his waist, sighing in frustration as he backed away, trying to calm down. When he glanced back at you, the pained look on his face was still there.

“I was tired, Y/N. I was fucking tired. You had no idea,” he confessed more gently, finally allowing himself to cry. “You had no idea.”

He sat on the edge of the bed, burying his face in his hands. With tired legs, you sank onto the couch opposite the bed, quietly immersing yourself in your thoughts. You gazed out the window to avoid seeing Mingyu, but his faint sobs and deep breaths kept him in your mind.

Before coming to the chateau, you had asked yourself, "What could go wrong?" So far, nothing major has gone wrong, but this trip has unleashed the deep-seated frustrations you and Mingyu had about your relationship. Four years of unresolved issues had surfaced because neither of you was brave enough to address them. You had both been worried about offending each other, of hurting one of you unintentionally or burdening one another with personal problems. Now, you realize that you hadn’t grown apart because your love had wavered. The things you chose to ignore out of consideration, the tiny mistakes you excused—all these issues had grown into an insurmountable wall that caused you to lose touch.

It wasn’t your fault, nor was it his, and you knew that. You had never blamed anyone for the breakup. But it felt so damning to discover that things could have gone differently—that breaking up wasn’t necessary.

You glanced at Mingyu, still sitting with his face in his hands. Standing up, you wiped your cheeks and took a deep breath before walking towards him. You reached for his shoulder, squeezing it firmly to let him know you were there. You were the one who held the knife that stabbed a hole through both of your hearts. You were also the one who pulled it out when you instigated this confrontation. It was only right for you to be the one to stop yourselves from bleeding out.

“I love you,” you murmured, making sure it was loud enough for him to hear.

Mingyu wiped his face with his hand before looking up at you. “What?”

“I love you, Mingyu,” you repeated, starting to sob again. “I love you so much. I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have done that—I… I’m so sorry.”

With a gentle tug, Mingyu pulled you into his arms, locking you in a tight hug. You sobbed uncontrollably, gripping his shirt for dear life. He comforted you with soft shushing sounds, rubbing his hand on your back, and planting a few kisses on the side of your head.

“I love you too, baby. I love you so much,” he whispered, a sigh of relief escaping his lips. “God, I love you so much.”

Still wrapped in his embrace, you heard footsteps thundering outside your door, followed by urgent, hurried knocks that made you jump.

“Guys! We gotta go!”

“Did something happen?” you called back, frantically wiping your face, hoping to hide the evidence of your tears. Mingyu, just as flustered, used his shirt to dry his own face. He even helped fix your messed-up hair with his big, panicky hands.

And then you pushed the door open, revealing a shaken Daniel who announced, “Clair’s water just broke.”

You stood outside the nursery, watching your niece behind the big glass window. There is a rush of emotions overwhelming you and it felt like your heart expanded with an intense, almost indescribable love. You gazed at the tiny, delicate features of the baby while Mingyu stood next to you, holding your hand and cooing at the sleeping child.

You can feel a sense of wonder and awe, marveling at the miracle of your niece’s arrival, Alyssa. Everyone thought she was Alfred the whole time. Turns out she was an Alyssa. Your sister said this baby is this year’s plot twist, a Christmas miracle. This was good to know because you had initially thought the plot twist that would shock your entire family was the fact that you and Mingyu were no longer dating.

“I don’t think I would ever have kids,” you told Mingyu on the drive back to the chateau.

He seemed surprised by your admission. “Why not?”

“I don’t know. It’s just a feeling. I don’t see motherhood as something I would be doing in the future. I think the closest I can be to being one is as an aunt. I have enough nieces and nephews anyway.”

“Motherhood seemed like a huge responsibility too,” Mingyu affirmed, smiling.

“It does. I mean, I might change my mind in the future, but right now? No, not for me,” you added, glancing at Mingyu in the driver’s seat. “What about you?”

“Well, I love kids.”

You smiled fondly. “I can see that.”

“Yeah. And I would love to have one of my own in the future. Maybe more.”

Mingyu’s smile lingered, his eyes gleaming at the thought of having his own children. You found yourself drifting into a daydream, imagining a future where the two of you ended up together, married, and living in a home filled with love and happiness. You painted a picture of a beautiful family, mirroring some of your own family values, and traditions. You would spend holidays at the chateau, celebrate your wins as a family, treat each other with respect and consideration. He’d be a loving husband, and you a supportive wife.

Children? Yes, there were children in this picture. But when you thought about yourself, you still couldn’t find the desire to have kids. Maybe you’d change your mind someday; maybe you wouldn’t. The thought of motherhood felt so distant. As much as you adored your nieces and nephews, you couldn’t see yourself stepping into a maternal role. Then again, there is no guarantee that you’d end up marrying Mingyu in the first place. This is all just wishful thinking.

You were pulled out of your daydream by the sound of Mingyu’s phone ringing. Reaching into the compartment, you carefully handed it to him.

“Can you answer it for me?” he asked, keeping his hands on the steering wheel.

The caller ID read ‘Mina,’ accompanied by a photo of the woman you’d seen him meet at a cafe. Your mind raced with questions, but you tapped the answer button and held the phone to his ear.

“Mingyu! Merry Christmas! How are you?” Her voice was bright and melodic.

“I’m well, Mina. Merry Christmas to you too,” Mingyu replied, glancing at you briefly.

“I have some good news!” she exclaimed.

A flicker of hesitation crossed Mingyu’s face. “Uh… Now’s not a good time.”

“Oh, this won’t take long. I just had to share this with you!” she persisted, followed by the sound of shuffling papers. “Welcome to XYZ Corporation!”

The sound of party poppers and Mina’s cheerful laughter filled the car. Mingyu smiled, though he still seemed a bit uneasy.

“That’s amazing. Thank you, Mina,” he said.

“You did great. They’ll email you after the holidays to confirm your employment and discuss your relocation. Just stay tuned for that, okay?”

“Okay.”

“Great. I won’t take up too much of your time then. I’ll see you soon. Happy holidays!”

The car was quiet after that call; painfully quiet. Mingyu is not saying anything, and you’re stuck trying to process the new information you got from that phone call. Even after the car has stopped, neither of you made a move to get off.

“Babe,” Mingyu prompted, reaching for your hand that was sitting on your lap.

“What was that?” was the first thing you asked.

“It was Mina Choi. She works at XYZ.”

“No. Not her,” you insisted, shaking your head. “XYZ Corporation? That’s in Seoul, isn’t it?”

“It is.”

“And you’re gonna be working there?”

Mingyu took a deep breath before responding. “Not yet. I got recruited last month so I applied and apparently, I got the job.”

“Oh,” you blurted, feeling lost so you just stared at your lap. “That’s great. XYZ is a big company. I’ve heard of them.”

He smiled contently, sighing. “Yeah, it is. I got a full contract too.”

“So you’re moving back to Korea?”

Mingyu’s silence spoke volumes. You let out a deep sigh, trying to muster a supportive smile, even though your heart felt heavy. “Congratulations, Gyu.”

“Baby—”

You pushed the car door open and walked briskly towards the chateau. You walked faster, almost running, eager to reach your bedroom as soon as possible and hide. But Mingyu was following closely behind, chasing you quietly. You passed by the halls, eyes blurring as your mind raced faster. You passed by your family members gathered at the great hall, their attentions immediately pointing at you the moment you walked in.

“Oh, you’re back! How’s Blair?” Sydney asked but you ignored her, going straight up the staircase without looking back, your heavy and urgent footsteps echoing through the entire hall.

Mingyu answered for you, his voice calm despite the tension. “Blair is doing great, Syd. They’ll be home in the morning.”

Your bedroom was quiet and cozy, and you could see the evidences of the warmth that engulfed this entire space just a few hours ago. Realizing that you’re about to lose it for the second time, your chest tightened with heartache while you ignored the stinging on your eyelids. Mingyu arrived sooner, shutting the door gently behind him.

You spun around to face him, arms crossed over your chest. “Why didn’t you tell me sooner?”

Mingyu took a deep breath, running a hand through his hair. “It wasn’t a big deal. I didn’t want to ruin our weekend.”

“Ruin it? Mingyu, you’re leaving for Seoul! How is that not a big deal?” you said, voice trembling with a mix of frustration and sorrow.

“Baby, let’s calm down for a second, alright,” he replied softly, reaching to hold your shoulders.

His gentle squeezes and the comforting look in his eyes steadied your heartbeat. You let him lock you in his embrace as you swallowed the lump in your throat.

“I didn’t hear from them for a while so I didn’t think I’d get the job,” he confessed as he rubbed soothing circles on your back. “I only found out today.”

“But we’ve only just got back together,” you moped, sobbing against his shirt.

“I know. It sucks for me too.”

You couldn’t even begin to describe how much you regret everything. Instead of breaking up, you should have just tried to fix things. You should have just talked about it. That way, you wouldn’t have lost those last few weeks with him. You would have made the most out of your time together. Now, it feels like you’re right back where you started, but worse.

Mingyu lifted your chin, the pain on his face evident upon seeing the tears streaming down your face. "I’m so sorry.”

Even if you wanted him to, Mingyu would never offer to stay. He would never pass up such a big career opportunity, and you wouldn’t have the heart to ask him to give it up. He had studied hard for years and worked tirelessly to deserve the opportunities that are coming his way. Not to mention this will be his chance to return home after being away for so long. You couldn’t take that from him; you wouldn’t be the one to hold him back.

“I’m genuinely happy for you, Mingyu. Really, I am. But this all just feels so… unfair.”

“I know,” he whispered, his own tears finally falling. “I know, and I’m sorry. I never wanted to hurt you.”

As you stood there, your mind raced through all the moments you'd shared. The laughter, the intimate conversations, the quiet moments of simply being together. All of it seemed so cruelly short-lived now, overshadowed by the inevitable. Despite your newly rediscovered love, you knew you weren’t prepared to move across the world for someone you weren’t sure you’d end up marrying. The internal conflict weighed heavily on you, a mix of pride for his achievements and sadness for the distance that would soon separate you.

Your thoughts wandered to the future, a future you had briefly allowed yourself to imagine with him. A home filled with love and happiness, the possibility of children, growing old together. It all seemed like a beautiful dream that was slipping away. It’s probably for the best. The picture you tried to paint was blurry anyway, so maybe it wasn’t meant to be.

Silence enveloped the room as you both stood there, the weight of unspoken words hanging heavily between you. Finally, Mingyu spoke again, his voice barely above a whisper. “I love you, y/n.”

You looked up at him, your heart breaking all over again. “I love you too, Gyu.”

He took a deep breath, hesitating before gently cupping your face in his hands. “We’ll figure it out. Somehow, we will.”

“I know.”

As you watched Mingyu kiss your forehead, lingering for a moment as if trying to memorize the feel of you, your mind screamed at the unfairness of it all. You wondered how many more times you’d have to say goodbye to someone you loved, and how many more pieces your heart could break into before it was beyond repair.

On Tuesday morning, you drove out of the chateau after saying goodbye to your family. In the end, you never got to fulfill the deal you made with Mingyu which was to tell everyone the truth before you head back to the city. You felt that it would be unnecessary; you got back together after all.

The drive was filled with a comfortable silence, occasional glances, and small smiles. You slept most of the ride like you always did. Then you spent the next few days with Mingyu, doing everything and anything together. You went on dates to your favorite spots—the little café where you had your first date, the park where you spent lazy afternoons, and all the places you loved to go to that he wouldn’t be able to see for a long time. Each outing was a surge of nostalgia and making new memories.

He also moved out of his apartment early to spend his last week with you, so not only did you see him every day, but you were with him every second of the day. Two days before his departure, you headed up to the chateau so he could say goodbye to everyone properly. Then you held a small party with your closest friends to celebrate a milestone in Mingyu’s career and wish him good luck.

It was needless to say neither of you held yourselves back, especially when it came to your desires. You lost more than a month together, and it would stretch back far longer if one were to consider the time when your relationship was rocky. You had a lot of conversations with Mingyu, opening up to each other more than you’ve ever done in the last four years together. He told you about his aspirations, and you told him about your plans from here on out.

“I really wish we could have more time,” he told you while you lay in your bed, warm and cozy under the sheets. Your bodies were flushed against each other, and you could tell you still smelled like him.

“Me too,” you confessed, nuzzling on his chest like you’re not already glued to him. “I can’t believe you’re leaving tomorrow.”

Mingyu sighed heavily. “That’s okay. If it’s ours, it will find its way back to us.”

You chuckled, propping yourself so you could frown at him. “That’s just another way of saying: if it’s meant to be, it will be.”

“I know,” he grinned and then kissed the tip of your nose.

“You’re silly.”

You spent the past days laughing and making each other happy. Neither of you has shown any sadness or shed a tear for the inevitable, although that did not mean it wasn’t sad. It was painful, but it was a familiar kind of pain, one you had been bracing yourself for since the moment he received that phone call from Mina. Yet, no amount of preparation could fully shield you from the reality of that moment.

There was a raw, undeniable hurt in knowing that someone you loved so deeply was leaving. The countless memories you had built together played like a silent movie in your mind—each scene was a reminder of what you were about to lose. Your laughter, the quiet moments of comfort, the shared dreams, and even the setbacks that made you stronger—all of it now leaves a bittersweet taste in your mouth.

“You know, this is the warmest bed I’ve ever known,” you confessed, laying back down.

“Like, literally or?”

You giggled, closing your eyes as you melted into his warmth. “You made it warm.”

“Well, you did give me a bed to lie on. I did my best to make it warm.”

You opened your eyes and scowled, confused. “Like, literally?”

“No,” he laughed, his chest vibrating. And the night stretched on with more of your laughter and conversations.

The morning of Mingyu’s departure arrived too quickly. You both sat in the living room, your head on his chest while he hugged you tightly. Neither of you was speaking, just quietly passing the time in each other’s arms. His suitcase was by the door, and every tick of the clock seemed louder than usual.

“Are you ready to go?” Mingyu asked gently, his eyes searching yours.

You looked away, unable to meet his gaze. “I said I’m not going.”

“I know. I was just trying to see if you changed your mind,” he chimed, his thumb rubbing your shoulder.

You buried your face in his chest and tightened your arms around his torso. “I don’t like it. It’s too sad.”

He hummed in understanding. “I get it. It’s hard for me too.” He stood up and hugged you tightly, his warmth enveloping you. “I’ll call you as soon as I land, okay?”

You nodded against his chest, feeling the tears welling up. “Okay.”

Mingyu kissed the top of your head, holding you for a few more seconds before pulling away. “Take care of yourself,” he whispered, his voice thick with emotion.

“You too,” you replied, watching as he picked up his suitcase and walked out the door. The sound of the door closing felt like a heartbreaking note.

For a few minutes, you stood there in the deafening silence, your heart aching with the weight of the goodbye. The thought of not seeing him off began to gnaw at you, each moment passing making you feel worse. You knew that if you didn’t go, you would regret it forever.

Without giving yourself time to second-guess, you grabbed your phone and ran out the door, not bothering to lock it behind you.

“Taxi!” you yelled at the first taxi you saw on the street, your hand flapping wildly in the air as you beckoned for it. “Airport. And please be quick!”

The traffic was mercifully light, but every red light felt like an eternity. You tapped your fingers nervously on your knee, willing the lights to change faster.

“Late for a flight?” the taxi driver asked but you were too immersed in your thoughts to hear it clearly.

“Sorry?” you asked stupidly.

“No luggage,” he noted. “Chasing a lover, I see.”

You chuckled nervously, eyes darting from the driver to the red light flashing up ahead. “Does it happen a lot?”

“No, not really. It’s rarer than you would expect,” the man replied spiritedly. “And it’s beautiful each time you see one.”

He didn’t chat much, and it was like he could also feel the urgency of your situation because as soon as he could, he sped through the highways and assured you that everything would be alright. When you finally reached the airport, you hastily paid your fare and ran towards the terminal, your heart pounding in your chest.

You scanned the crowds frantically, hoping you weren’t too late. Then, you spotted him at the security checkpoint, just about to hand over his boarding pass.

"Kim Mingyu!" you shouted, your voice echoing in the bustling terminal.

He turned around, eyes wide with surprise. You pushed through the crowd, running up to him while waving your hand. Mingyu left the queue immediately, meeting you halfway. When you reached him, you were breathless, both from the run and the emotions. He didn’t waste any time and pulled you into a tight embrace.

When you parted, you laughed shyly, not looking him in the eyes out of embarrassment.

“Wow, I almost didn’t catch you,” you told him, looking at the queue of people boarding the gate.

Mingyu’s expression was soft and loving as he tucked a few strands of your hair to the back of your ear. “I’m so glad you came.”

“Yeah. I’m so glad I did,” you chuckled, moving closer to hug him again. You stared at his face, trying to memorize it before he leaves and your vision of him becomes limited to a phone’s screen only.

“I thought you don’t like it?” he asked, arms wrapped around your waist and enjoying the way you were staring at him with loving eyes.

“I don’t,” you admitted, rolling your eyes. “But I’ll make an exception for you.”

“Just tell me you’re gonna miss me and be done with it.”

“I’m gonna miss you, Mingyu.”

Mingyu laughed heartily, pleasantly surprised by your admission. “See. How hard was that?”

“Not hard at all because it’s true,” you shrugged.

He cupped your face in his hands, his eyes sparkling with affection. “I’m gonna miss you too, baby. A lot.”

“You better,” you said nonchalantly, masking the yearning in your heart. “I love you, okay?”

He nodded. “I love you.”

The announcement for his flight boarding echoed through the terminal, and Mingyu sighed, knowing it was time to go. He kissed you deeply, pouring all his love and emotion into that one kiss. Then he pulled you into a tight embrace again, neither of you wanting to let go. 

“Take care of yourself,” he murmured into your hair.

“You too,” you replied, tears streaming down your face. You couldn’t help it. When Mingyu saw that, you recognized the slight flicker of hesitation on his face. “Go, before I change my mind and chain you to my bedpost.”

“See you soon, y/n.”

“See you soon, Mingyu.”

With one last kiss, he turned and walked towards the gate, pausing to look back at you one more time. You watched as he disappeared from sight, a mix of sadness and hope filling your heart. You took a deep breath, letting the cool air of the terminal fill your lungs. As you exhaled, you felt a sense of calm wash over you. You can’t control the future, but you can choose how to face it.

Acceptance was not about letting go of the pain but about understanding that it was part of the journey. You allowed yourself to feel every emotion, knowing that it was okay to hurt, okay to miss him, and okay to hope for a future where your paths would cross again.

Days passed in the blink of an eye. You got busy working on the establishment of your interior design office. You haven’t even officially established your office yet but inquiries are already pouring in thanks to your work on Daphne’s boutique. Sure, you had help from your trust fund and your first investor was your father, but why would you shy away from the privilege you were born with when you can flourish with it?

“Ma'am, where do you want this couch to be?” asked the helpers as they hauled a long couch into the office space.

“Over there by that corner, please. And the rest of it will be placed there too,” you instructed just as you were fishing your phone from your bag.

You opened the message from Mingyu and saw that he had sent you a picture. It was of him and an abstract painting hanging on the wall of his Seoul apartment– the one you sent him a few days ago.

MG: Rate my interior design capability. you: 7/10. Nice spot but it’s upside down, Mr Kim. MG: LOL okay will fix it when i get back. i'm at work now. i miss you! xx

A smile crept up your lips as you typed a reply.

you: Miss you! Good luck!

Not everyone has to end up with the greatest love of their life. But you do wish you would end up with yours— that somehow, despite the massive population of the earth, Mingyu is your greatest love; your end game. Maybe he is, or perhaps he’s not. Who knows? Right now, you're both content living your days, doing what makes you happy. You no longer ache for him too much, although you miss him a lot every day. You were pretty convinced that you missed it only because you were used to it. Then again, who knows for sure?

As you set your phone down, you felt hopeful and optimistic. Your story with Mingyu wasn’t over; it was simply evolving. And in that evolution, you found strength, hope, and a future full of possibilities.

[fin]

[honeyhoshi]

scarlet, starlet pt. 1

summary: mingyu intends to make his girlfriend's wishes come true — all of them.

this a part of the man of the match universe

genre: professional football (soccer) mingyu, idol oc, porn with a little plot

wordcount: 3,251

pairing: mingyu x afab!reader

warnings: DDlg kink, d/s themes, both parties are safe, sane, and consenting adults, afab reader, lots of mentions of female anatomy, reader is implied to be significantly smaller than mingyu, making out, dry humping, finger sucking, fingering, squirting, huge mingyu, big dick gyu (canon), slight cum play, cum eating, exhibitionism, unprotected sex (pls dont do it, its not worth it), spit kink (bec i wrote it), creampie (also bec i wrote it), size kink go bbrrrr, bulge kink, dirty talk

author's notes: yet another work written for my lovely @madeforgyu! this is just part 1 of her birthday gift and is a part of the universe we have lovingly poured soooo much time and effort in. wuv u and all of that!

The excitement that comes with a new album and a comeback sometimes gets lost in just how complicated AM♡RE’s schedule has become. In between having to do pre-recording as a whole team, music shows would request certain members to be part of other variety segments which allowed other members to rest or even take on other schedules.

This led to fussy 4AM pre-recording sessions then running back to the company office to film overseas interviews and just napping during the car rides to and from one venue or another.  By the time the whole team made it back to the KBS building for the live broadcast, the only thing fueling you was adrenaline and obligation. It’s a so-so way of celebrating your twenty-fourth birthday.

You try to shake it out of your system when you think of the cute pink drink truck that was parked by the entrance to the studio that your fans were enjoying. You think it could be a lot worse because you did catch a glimpse of the many birthday ads all over Seoul as you moved from one location to another.

But still, it could be better too.

With all the last minute activities and schedules being fit into every free moment you had in the past few weeks, it had been difficult to really set any celebration plans into stone with your boyfriend.

Your boyfriend.

A pout makes itself present on your face the second you start thinking of him. Having Mingyu around would make everything that wasn’t ideal about your birthday just simply melt away.

At this point, a message from him would suffice. You’re no stranger to receiving and sending messages at odd times but after Mingyu’s good morning message, all your other texts had gone unread.

You’re wracking your head if he had mentioned anything scheduled today but you come up with nothing because you can clearly remember that he said he was taking the entire day off to celebrate with you.

The thought sticks even as you’re being ushered on stage and you only really snap out of it as you find yourself in front of the crowd, the rest of your members bowing and waving before you have to take your starting positions.

You shake it off, thinking instead of how you’re sure a message from Mingyu will greet you the moment you step off stage.

You’re greeted by something far better than a text message when the music cuts and you’re trying to catch your breath.

A large smile is still plastered on your face as the thrill and joy of performing courses through you. The cheers fill you with warmth and satisfaction, hoping that you had given a good performance for the live show’s crowd, but a voice cuts through the usual noise of fans.

There’s a booming voice coming from the side stage and a “That’s my girl!” that sets every nerve on your body aflame in embarrassment and pride in equal measures.

It’s your boyfriend.

It’s Mingyu.

A bright smile splits your face and you can’t help the flush that paints your face pink as the rest of your members turn to see the afternoon’s special guest. With everyone on stage giggling and whispering amongst themselves with their lapels turned away from their mouths, even the crowd was starting to realize that something out of the norm was going on.

You make your goodbyes quick, giving deep bows of appreciation, but the excitement coursing through your body can’t be contained.

Once your leader has deemed you polite enough, offering you a sympathetic smile and nodding towards the general direction of the backstage area, you can’t move fast enough.

You briskly walk towards Mingyu who, despite his effort at dressing to be discreet, is still the most eye-catching person in the room. Standing tall and proud in the hustle and bustle of the music show staff is the top scorer of the Cheongdam Diamonds, offering you the most wicked grin.

There are so many eyes around you. Looks of jealousy, resentment, and also awe are no longer strange when either you or Mingyu are in the room. Having both of you present just meant all of the above, but a hundredfold. None of that matters to you at all when you let out a squeal and jump into his arms.

You don’t care. You’ve stopped caring. Let them see.

You can no longer count how many bad ideas have become good ones when Mingyu whispers them into your ear. You can’t even remember a time you’ve said no to him and his clever ideas. Not that you ever would really, especially when Mingyu always makes it worth your time.

 It starts innocently enough, as it always does with you and Mingyu.

The second you managed to drag him into your dressing room, locking the door behind him, you had peppered his face and mouth with as many kisses as you could as he giggled and whispered birthday greetings every time your lips parted.

In no time, Mingyu had managed to wrap your legs around his waist and was guiding you as you slowly rocked your hips down onto his. The friction was so delicious even through all the layers of your stage costume but you knew that this would hardly suffice for either of you.

“I fucking hate these shorts,” Mingyu says with a grimace as his hands find their way to your ass, upset to find the layer of your safety shorts standing in his way.

Mingyu has always hated it when he would reach down and find your smooth skin covered with a seemingly offensive piece of clothing. On most days you barely wore any underwear around the house, just the way he likes it.

You love the little look of annoyance in his face and trace the lines of his eyebrows as you sit pretty on his lap, “They’re there to protect me.”

Mingyu can only snort at that.

You roll your eyes playfully, “Imagine if we stopped wearing these, then everyone would see what’s yours, Daddy.”

You feel his frown relax underneath your finger, “We can’t have that now, can we?”

“Nuh-uh,” You answer, allowing Mingyu to guide your hips. Even through the stupid safety shorts you could feel how his cock was pressing against the zipper of his jeans and Mingyu always knew how to find the cleft of your center to ensure that you were grinding your clit onto him.

“Why’s that?” He whispers against your lips, tongue flicking out to lick at your upper lip for just a split second.

You bite your tongue at the pleasure slowly building up between your legs and how he’s teasing you with his tongue, “Because this is yours.”

He makes a face of faux confusion before asking, “What exactly is mine?”

“This pussy.”

“Good girl.”

In no time, Mingyu has you strip for him and you stand before him, completely devoid of your costume. In the back of your head you can already imagine the frustration of the staff member assigned to assist you with getting fully dressed again, but the look Mingyu gives you has you pushing the thought away.

He’s sprawled on the couch as if he owned it and you’re dying to fall to your knees between his spread legs, but the second you move to do so, Mingyu grabs your wrist to stop you.

“It’s my sweet girl’s birthday today, so we’ll do all the stuff you like,” He says, standing up and crowding you against the counters littered with different makeup brushes and pots of eyeshadow and powder puffs.

“But I want to suck your cock,” You state as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

Mingyu chuckles and you meet his eyes. You’re entranced.

“I know you do, love. But I don’t want you to bruise your knees when I’m dressing you back in that little skirt.”

He has a point and you frown, “How about tonight?”

He smiles as he brings three fingers up to your mouth, “Okay, I’ll even let you choke on it. Now suck on Dad’s fingers, get them nice and messy.”

You immediately let your mouth fall open and start to lap at the three fingers Mingyu offers you, savoring the salt of his skin and the rough pads of his fingers. If you tried hard enough you could pretend they were his cock, hard and smooth and so so delicious. Your little daydream has you salivating in no time, coating Mingyu’s fingers and lubricating them enough for what he’s no doubt about to do to you.

“Look at that little mouth go,” He marvels, “So small, three fingers can barely fit. Are you sure you can suck my cock?”

You’re shaken from your thoughts and immediately a look of distress spreads on your face, “Yes, it can fit! I can make it fit. You’ll make it fit, won’t you?”

Mingyu’s fingers are barely out of your mouth as you try to convince him. The look on your face makes Mingyu smile. It’s horrible and mean and you love it so much.

“Yeah, I’ll make it fit. I’ll make sure my baby will take it.”

You preen at the promise and wait in anticipation as he pulls his hands away from your lips and pressing his mouth against yours.

This kiss was not exactly a typical one. Instead of pressing your lips together, Mingyu licks into your mouth, his tongue bullying its way inside and pushing your own tongue out of the way. He runs this tongue against the roof of your mouth and against your teeth until you slowly start to press your tongue against his.

You groan in relief as he finally eases up to kiss you properly but tense up when you feel one of his hands grab at your left thigh to lift it up and prop it up on the counter. This position has you spread wide open for him. He loves it when he can see all of you.

The slick that’s been gathering between your folds is surely visible in this position and it makes you clench around nothing as Mingyu pulls away to survey you in this position.

“So so pretty,” He whispers underneath his breath, not even to you, just to himself, “Going to destroy this tiny pussy.”

That’s as much warning as you get before he presses two fingers into you at once.

Mingyu is bigger than most men in all aspects. He’s tall and broad, having put in so much time to get his physique to where it is now. His sheer size followed everywhere else. His fingers were long and thick and the press of two into your core has your eyes rolling to the back of your head.

Whether it was his cock or his fingers, you knew to always expect a stretch. And you loved it.

“Sooo good, Daddy,” is all you can muster as Mingyu sets a punishing pace that has you trembling in his arms in no time.

Each curl of his fingers sent a jolt down your spine that had you inching closer to the edge despite how Mingyu had just started.

“My pussy is taking two fingers so well,” He says, “I think three would be even better.”

You hate that he pulls his fingers out but you’re immediately placated when he brings the two fingers to his mouth to suck your slick off of them.

He makes a noise of delight before removing his fingers and leaning down. For a second you think he’s going to eat you out but instead Mingyu spits out the saliva and slick he’s collected in his mouth and lets it drip down from your clit. 

He moves back to take in the absolutely debauched state of your pussy, smiling to himself, pleased at how messy he’s gotten you, before spreading the wetness with his soiled fingers.

“Are you ready for three, little girl?” He asks, almost mocking. You preen at the nickname and at the promise of the stretch of three fingers inside of you.

Even with the preparation he had given you, he punches a deep exhale from you and he pushes three fingers. The fit is so tight that you can feel how the rough pads of his fingers are. He always did refuse to wear gloves when he lifted weights. Now you want to thank him for it, because the friction inside you makes you want to scream.

It doesn’t help how slowly he’s going either. He’s relishing in how your walls wrap around his fingers, how you tighten up when he slips in a little further. And when he crooks his fingers just right, he can feel how you’re getting just a little bit wetter, slicker.

“You take me so good,” He whispers against your lips, so close it's almost a kiss.

You’re breathless though, mouth slightly ajar, waiting for his tongue to slither between your lips. He doesn’t make a move though aside from a cocky smirk and an arched brow.

Mingyu lets his fingers continue on with their noble job of getting you closer and closer to the edge. Each push and pull of his digits inside you set your nerves alight, but the delicate movement of his right hands make you want to die.

Even as he’s coaxing and orgasm with three fingers on his left hand, the fingers on his right are tracing delicate swirls and unrecognizable patterns along your inner thigh. Every now and then they’d go higher, just by the lips of your pussy.

The pace is much too slow for your liking and you’re worried that your absence would start to seem suspicious. You weren’t at Mingyu’s training center where everything is kept under lock and key with a very well written NDA. You were at Music Bank where staff members were nosy and there was surely another girl group member roaming the halls, praying for your downfall.

“Daddy, faster,” Is all you can manage in between kisses on Mingyu’s jawline, licking a stripe to taste the salt of his sweat and that underlying tinge of just him.

You don’t expect his free hand to come and grip the underside of your jaw, his fingers long enough to reach both sides of your cheeks. He applies just the right pressure to squeeze your cheeks and force your lips into a pucker.

It would be cute if not for the look on Mingyu’s face.

“This is a birthday gift, angel. Be good while I give it to you, hmm?” He says as he begins to pick up the pace.

In no time the pace is punishing, the only thing slowing Mingyu down is how each push of his fingers back inside of you required a stretch and each time your walls made space for him inside you, you let out a little whimper.

When Mingyu presses his thumb against your clit, adding to the already intense pleasure, you can barely keep it together. In no time you feel the telltale signs of an inevitable orgasm.

No matter the method, every single orgasm Mingyu has ever given you was mind blowing, and this would be no exception. You feel the wetness dripping down your ass before you’re comprehending what exactly has happened, having difficulty in processing the immense pleasure coursing through you, your eyes slipping shut at the feeling of cumming all over Mingyu’s fingers.

Your walls tighten around him, even as you spill into his open palm and he continues to push in and out, droplets falling to the floor beneath you and between his feet.

Mingyu’s eyes are fixed on your entrance as he keeps you filled, pleased with how stretched out you are, ready for him to just slip in.

He pulls his fingers out only to move them to cover your clit, gently rubbing, keeping you on the precipice of pleasure, not allowing you a moment to come back to Earth. You’re in that heady space only he take you.

“Eyes open, baby. Watch daddy fuck his cock into you,” Mingyu says with a light slap to your face.

He moves and lifts your other leg up, maneuvering your hands that are wrapped around him to hold yourself open, keeping you fully spread open and seated on the dressing room counter.

Mingyu grasps his cock and gives himself one, two, three pumps to ease the initial need for friction, before he taps the now leaking tip against your clit. A pearlescent drop of precum falls on the hood of your clit and you watch, helpless as he harshly swipes at it with his thumb.

You hiss at rough handling but are immediately silenced when he brings the thumb up and shoves it into your mouth. He presses down on your tongue as if to wipe the cum off his finger. 

He grabs a fistful of the hair at the nape of your neck and smashes your mouths together. You love the way even his mouth seems to hold dominance over your own. The movements, no matter how unruly, are still just the right thing to get you going once more.

“We taste so good together, huh?” He whispers after fucking your mouth with his tongue. He pulls away slightly and lolls out his tongue to let a thick wad of spit fall from his lips down to your center.

The impact of the warm liquid has your gaping hole clenching around nothing.

It pleases Mingyu so much that he forgoes all the other teasing he initially had in mind and just guides the head of his cock to sop up the spit on your pussy before pushing in to the hilt in one thrust.

The blissed out sigh that you let out set him on fire.

Gone is the idea of long, languid strokes to stoke the fire in your belly. Instead he goes with a punishing pace that has high pitched cries slipping from your mouth.

His hands find the thickness of your ass to keep you in place, his hips doing all the work of rearranging your guts. In this angle and position, he can see how the head of his cock bulges in your abdomen slightly. It if was possible, he would have gotten harder.

Having already been so sensitive from hardly being able to come down from your first orgasm, Mingyu’s actions had you reeling into your second one in no time.

“My princess deserves to come already,” Mingyu says, slightly breathless, leaning his forehead on yours “Dad wants this pussy to never let him go.”

You nod in agreement, “It's yours forever. I love you.”

It almost seems pathetic for him to cum at those words, but it's a spectacular orgasm as he pulls out until only the head of his cock is inside you before he slams his hips flush to yours and letting himself flood your pussy with his cum.

You’re delirious as he keeps you steady,  pulling out so slowly to make sure you keep every single drop of him inside of you.

“Keep it in until you get home,” He says, “I want to slip right in the second you get through the door and still feel me inside you.”

You press your lips to his once, twice, and a third one for good measure before nodding excitedly.

“It’s your gift to me. I won’t let a single drop go to waste.”

remy @ahreumtouch • may 8 GUYS I JUST READ THE CUTEST FAN ACCT FROM TODAY'S MUBANK WTFFFF

remy @ahreumtouch • may 8 There's a special guest at today's live performance!! After the Midas Touch recording there was a really loud and DEEP cheeer coming from backstage. The members were all looking to see who it was ijbol!!

remy @ahreumtouch • may 8 Ahreum was so happy when she figured out who it was that after bowing and greeting fans she left the stage but her mic was still on!!

huhu our baby was probably so happy and giggly as she always is! the op of the fan acct thinks its Mingyu!!

thank you Mingyu for loving and taking care of our precious Ahreum! 🥹🫧🩷

remy @ahreumtouch • may 8 CONFIRMED WTFFFFF 😭😭😭 Mingyu was seen leaving Music Bank today!!

SIR U R A FOOTBALLER U HAVE NO REASON TO BE AT MUSIC BANK IF NOT FOR UR IDOL GF!!

[her-favorite]

I ❤️ MY BF; M. STURNIOLO

MATT STURNIOLO X F!READER

warnings: none!

a/n: Requested! I was thinking of that one vid of matt + chris picking nick up when he was at the airport so that’s kinda where i was going w/ this at the end - this was my last request/inbox for matt (+ chris) guys i need moreeee 🙏🏻

wc: 1,060 - more so a blurb tbh

SYNOPSIS: After a short period of Matt being away, you made sure to show how much you love him.. on a shirt!

-

The last few days have been different without Matt.

You’ve spent your time hanging out with his brothers, Nick and Chris, ordering food, watching movies and recording little segments for their vlog they needed to post on Wednesday.

You and Matt have texted back and forth while he was away for a modeling appointment, saying your good morning’s and goodnight’s to each other. You knew he was going to be busy while he was gone, so you tried not to bother him too much, though he always assures you that he loves seeing your messages whenever he gets to his phone.

Once Tuesday rolled around, you couldn’t be more excited for 4 pm to come. Waking up in Matt’s bed, you checked the time before deciding to get up and get ready. While you were in the shower, you could hear faint mumbles and footsteps from Nick and Chris, potentially getting themselves breakfast.

To say you were in a good mood was an understatement. Checking your phone once you stepped foot outside of the shower, you notice a text from your boyfriend.

‘Morning sweetheart! At the airport rn, should be boarding soon. Can’t wait to see you baby’

You couldn’t help the smile that took over your lips, immediately pressing on his contact to reply.

“Wow, you’re in a good mood.” Nick states, looking up from his phone as he sat at the kitchen table. Snacking on whatever he found in the fridge, he chuckles at your attitude.

“Just excited to see him.” You try and play it off, yet the smile on your face doesn’t do much to convince your best friend. He hums sarcastically at your reply, leaning back in his seat.

By the time 3:30 came around, you figured it’d be best to leave around then, so you’d be there on time. The airport was a little ways away and you knew Matt wasn’t going to be able to leave the airport at exactly 4 o’ clock.

Chris sat on the couch as he waited, scrolling through his phone, bothering his brother whenever he felt necessary. A slap echoes through the house as an exaggerated whine of pain follows. With a laugh, you get up from your seat and begin walking to Matt’s room.

“We’ll leave as soon as I change, okay?” You say, hoping they heard you over their insistent arguing. A quick, “okay” was heard from behind you, your mind registering it as Nick’s voice.

Stepping foot inside his room, you grab a shirt from inside your side of the closet, not being able to stop the quiet laugh that left your mouth at the design. Throwing it over your head, you grab your keys off of Matt’s desk and make your way back out into the living room. “Alright, guys, c’mon.” You get their attention, sliding your shoes on.

A burst of laughter reverberates through the air, an immediate smile forming on your face from the sound. “What the fuck are you wearing?” Chris points to your shirt, the wide smile on his face still emitting chuckles.

“Oh my god.” Nick stops in his tracks as his eyes take in your shirt, making you laugh in response. Fixing your shoe, you place your foot back on the ground as you look over at the brothers.

“What do you mean? It’s amazing.” You grin, grabbing the bottom of the fabric and stretching it. You look down at it, the bold ‘I ❤️ my boyfriend’ text standing out with a cute picture of Matt inside the heart. Nick fights a smile as he walks around you, towards your car. Chris chuckles again, pushing his hand out to dap you up, a habit he’s done so much recently, making you grow accustomed to his antics.

Turning around, you head over to your car and get in the driver’s seat. With Chris in the passenger and Nick in the back, the conversation flows easily.

“Look at what Y/N’s wearing.” You hear Nick say behind you as you stop at a red light. Taking a quick glance behind you, you notice his phone swerve over to you, showcasing your shirt to the vlog. Laughing at his actions, you adjust your body to show him your clothes.

“Nothin’ wrong with showin’ the love.” Chris says vivaciously, looking between you and the camera. Humming in agreement with Chris, the light turns green as you press on the gas.

Once Nick turns the camera off, Chris grabs the aux and motions it to you. “Put somethin’ on.” He wiggles the cord, oblivious to you turning the wheel. With a quick deny, only a few minutes away from the airport, Chris whines and doesn’t budge. “Come on!”

“Chris, don’t hand me the aux or else we’ll all miss him.” You reply, laughing as you move his hand away from you. With a groan in response, Chris decides to annoy Nick next.

Finally, you arrive at the airport, pulling into a parking spot. Checking the time, 3:57 stared back at you as you shut your car off. “What’s the plan, Nick?” You look back at him.

“Why don’t we meet him when he walks out.” He says, sitting at the edge of his seat, looking over at you. With a nod, you all get out of your car and make your way toward the doors.

A few minutes later, footsteps catch all of your attention. Nick brings out his phone as he records, getting more footage for the vlog they needed for tomorrow.

“Matt!” Chris yells, jumping and thrashing his arms around to get his brother’s attention. You can’t help but laugh at the man’s antics, your attention drifting back over to your boyfriend.

With his suitcase in one hand, his phone in the other, Matt makes his way over to you three. A wide smile takes over his lips as a laugh escapes his mouth at his younger brother. Waving over at him, Matt’s eyes rake over you, feeling a weight drift off his shoulders.

“Hi, baby,” he smiles and wraps his arms around you, squeezing you into him. You both laugh once Chris joins in, throwing his arms around both of you. “Chris,” he chuckles and pulls away from you, giving his brother a hug. Looking back over at you once he pulls away, he pauses.

“What the fuck are you wearing?”