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Hey girl, I love your HOTD reactions sm! What about like how they would react if you did a VS or Skims collab for a Valentine’s day set or something??
HOTD Characters Reaction To Your Campaign With Skims
Aegon was in the middle of scrolling through his phone, lazily lounging on the couch when his screen suddenly froze.
The SKIMS Valentine’s Day campaign.
Your face. Your body. Draped in lingerie so sheer it might as well be a second skin. Red silk, lace, curves accentuated perfectly—a vision of absolute sin. The shot that made his blood boil the most?
You, on a plush pink bed, biting your lip, fingers tangled in your hair—wearing nothing but a dangerously tiny bra and lace garters. The caption?
“Indulge yourself this Valentine’s Day. ❤️ #SKIMSLove”
The likes and comments were flooding in, men thirsting over you in real-time:
“THIS is what I want for Valentine’s Day.”
“Bro, she’s actually unreal.”
“Forget flowers, I’m sending divorce papers to my wife.”
“I just know her man is LOSING HIS MIND.”
Yeah. He was.
Aegon shot up, phone clenched so hard his knuckles turned white. His jaw? Tight. His eyes? Dark. His entire body radiated possessiveness, his breath coming out in ragged bursts.
His first instinct? Call you. Right. Now. But then he thought—No. No, you fucking knew what you were doing. Posting this without telling him? Letting the entire world drool over you while he was just supposed to sit there and take it?
His next move? Damage control.
The internet absolutely lost its mind.
The moment Aegon dropped the video on his Instagram story, everything went insane.
The clip was short but devastating—you, bent over his bed, skin flushed, your bare back marked with his claim, trembling, moaning his name like a prayer, wrecked beyond comprehension. Aegon’s hand came into view, gripping your waist, his voice low and smug, whispering,
“Didn’t think I’d let that SKIMS stunt slide, did you, baby?”
The internet? BROKE.
Twitter/X Exploded:
“THIS MAN JUST ENDED THE ENTIRE MALE POPULATION WTF”
“Aegon Targaryen is the pettiest, most unhinged man alive and I respect it.”
“She posted SKIMS, he posted HER. This is WAR.”
“HOW is this allowed on Instagram? WHO reported it? WHOEVER YOU ARE, WE FIGHT AT DAWN.”
“Bro turned Valentine’s Day into a public execution.”
Instagram Comments on His Last Post:
“Sir. Some of us are SINGLE.”
“That’s it. I’m deleting my boyfriend.”
“Y’all seeing her LEGS SHAKING??? Nah this man is different.”
“I’m not okay. I will never be okay.”
“We were thirsting over her SKIMS shoot and Aegon said ‘bet.’”
TikTok Reactions:
POV edits of Aegon with captions like “When your man reminds the world who you belong to 😵💫🔥”
Audio clips of “I want what they have” over slow-mo replays of the video
Girls fake crying into the camera with captions like “Me realizing I’ll never be this girl”
Reddit Threads:
r/popculturegossip
“Aegon Targaryen just HARD LAUNCHED his revenge arc, and I’ve never felt so single.”
“This is the most unhinged flex of all time, and I need therapy.”
“So we all agree he’s the pettiest man alive, right?"
Instagram eventually took the video down—but it was too late. Screenshots, edits, and memes had already flooded the internet. Aegon had won the war, and the internet was never recovering.
The second Aemond saw the photos—you, draped in delicate lace, barely covered, staring into the camera with that knowing, sultry look—his jaw clenched so tight it could snap.
His phone nearly cracked in his grip as he scrolled through the thousands of comments under the post:
“Mother is mothering.”
“Aemond is officially the luckiest man alive.”
“The male species has been defeated. We are but peasants.”
“You’re telling me this woman goes home to HIM??? Jail.”
A deep, dark chuckle left his lips—but it wasn’t amusement. It was pure, seething possession.
His eye twitched, his breathing heavy as he saw the likes flooding in—from men. From verified blue checks. From random nobodies who had no business looking at you like that.
“The fuck is this, darling?” His voice was deadly calm, but the way he stalked toward you, phone in hand, told you everything.
“A campaign.” You blinked at him, innocent. “For SKIMS.”
“A fucking campaign?” He scoffed, throwing his phone onto the table as he cornered you. “So that’s what we’re doing now? Letting every goddamn man on the internet see what’s MINE?”
He was pissed. Jealous. Possessive. His fingers traced up your arm, then gripped your jaw, tilting your face up to him.
“Tell me, did you enjoy it?” His voice dropped lower, dangerously soft. “Did you like having them all drooling over you?”
His eye burned into you, jaw tight as he leaned in, lips brushing your ear.
“Because now you’re going to remind them who you belong to.”
Aemond never lost control—but tonight? You were in for it.
The second Aemond posted the video, the internet broke.
It wasn’t just a thirst trap. It was a declaration. A warning. A final nail in the coffin for every man who thought they had a chance.
The clip was grainy, filmed through the dim light of his bedroom—his signature aesthetic. You were wrecked on his bed, wrists bound, body shaking, barely able to form a word except his name—moaned like a prayer, like a confession.
And Aemond? His signature smirk could be heard in his voice when he murmured:
“This is what happens when you forget who you belong to.”
Instagram Exploded :
“IS THIS EVEN ALLOWED???”
“So we’re just posting full-course MEALS now????”
“The way she’s literally trembling… yeah, I lost.”
"‘This is what happens when you forget who you belong to’ BRO CAN WE BREATHE???”
“The SKIMS campaign was for US. This? This was for HIM.”
“Aemond said, ‘You wanna model lingerie? Fine. Now model MY BED.’”
“The way she’s just a mess for him… If my man doesn’t love me like this, I DON’T WANT IT.”
Within minutes, Twitter (X) was on fire.
#AemondTargaryen
#SheBelongsToHim
#TiedUpForAemond
#OneEyedKing
Trending. Everywhere.
TWITTER/X MELTDOWN:
“I HAVEN’T EVEN RECOVERED FROM HER SKIMS SHOOT AND NOW THIS????”
“This man really said ‘revenge’ and ENDED US ALL.”
"Aemond Targaryen is a MENACE. I hate him. (I’m lying. I love him.)”
“THIS IS THE MOST POSSESSIVE, FILTHY, UNHINGED, HOTTEST THING I’VE EVER SEEN. HELP ME.”
TIKTOK COMMENTS UNDER THE VIDEO:
Pinned by Aemond Targaryen : “Revenge is sweet, baby."
“My FBI agent just logged out. This is TOO MUCH.”
“This is NOT just a revenge post—THIS IS A WARNING.”
“Imagine posting a SKIMS campaign and your man drops THIS as a response… She WINS.”
“Her Skims photos were for US. Aemond’s revenge was for HIM.”
Meanwhile, Aemond? He just sat back, smirking at his phone as he watched the world come to terms with what they already knew.
You were his. And there was no escaping it.
Jace never had an issue with you modeling. Until now.
He was in a meeting when his phone started blowing up. At first, he ignored it—until Aegon sent him a link with nothing but:
“LMAO. You good, bro?”
Frowning, Jace clicked.
And there you were.
Draped in red lace. Skin glowing. Eyes hooded. Posing in a way that had every man on the planet foaming at the mouth. The SKIMS Valentine’s campaign had dropped, and you were the star.
The moment he saw the lingerie—saw the way your body looked in it—his jaw locked so tight it could crack.
And then he saw the comments.
“I just KNOW Jace is punching the air rn.”
“She’s too fine. If he won’t wife her, I WILL.”
“Jace, be so serious… How does it feel to lose?”
“Why does she look single in these photos???”
“Jace, if you fumble, I’m RIGHT HERE.”
The moment the meeting ended, Jace stormed out of the office, grabbing his phone and calling you immediately.
You picked up, cheerful—which only pissed him off more.
“You having fun?” His voice was low, dangerous.
You giggled. “Jacey, baby, did you see the campaign?”
“Oh, I saw it. So did the rest of the fucking world.”
You hummed, unbothered. “And?”
Jace ran a hand through his curls, breathing hard. He could see the photos in his mind—how every man was lusting over you.
His girl.
And the worst part?
You knew exactly what you were doing.
“And,” he growled, “you better be home when I get there.”
“Why?” you teased, voice all sweetness and sin.
Jace let out a dark chuckle. “So I can remind you who the fuck you belong to.”
One minute, people were thirsting over your SKIMS campaign, and the next?
Jace dropped a bomb.
A video.
A very explicit video.
You, bare, ruined, trembling on his bed. Voice completely gone. Every breath ragged. Body shaking violently. Jace’s hand on your ass, smacking every time you tried to move away. His voice? Dark. Dangerous. Possessive.
“Was it worth it, baby? Hm? Letting the whole world see you like that? Look at you now—can’t even talk, can’t even move. Next time you wanna tease me, remember who the fuck you belong to.”
And his caption? Head Shot.
“Since y’all were so thirsty for her SKIMS campaign, here’s what happened after. Enjoy.”
Instagram Comments :
“JACE, WTF IS THIS? I CAN’T BREATHE.”
“He saw the SKIMS campaign and said ‘bet.’”
“NAH, THIS IS BIBLICAL. HER VOICE? GONE. BODY? FINISHED. JACE?? LAUGHING IN HER EAR?”
“This man took it PERSONAL LMFAO.”
“I ain’t never seen a man HUMBLED this fast 😭”
“THE WAY HE’S WHISPERING TO HER AND HIS HAND?? Y’ALL. I NEED HOLY WATER.”
“Her body shaking and his palm smacking down… Yeah. Yeah. That’s a man.”
“Jace saw the SKIMS campaign and said ‘MY GIRL. MINE.’”
“You just KNOW he was PISSED when he saw those lingerie pics 😭.”
“She went from SKIMS model to Jace’s favorite meal real fast.”
“THE WHOLE VIDEO IS JUST HIM RUINING HER LIFE AND HER LETTING HIM 😭.”
“I need everyone involved in this video ARRESTED.”
“Bro uploaded this like a warning. Like, ‘you thought you were single in those photos? Here’s your reminder.’”
“HE REALLY POSTED THIS AS REVENGE FOR SKIMS. THIS IS A POWER MOVE.”

TWITTER REACTIONS : Trending Topics:
#JaceVelaryon
#JusticeForHerVoice
#SKIMSRevenge
#IsSheAlive??
Comments :
“Jace is actually insane for posting this. HER BODY IS SHAKING. HER VOICE IS GONE. AND HE’S JUST THERE, WHISPERING AND LAUGHING??? HELLO???”
“You KNOW he was mad about SKIMS cause why is this video a whole RESPONSE??? 😭”
“If my man doesn’t ruin me like this after I piss him off, I don’t want him.”
“Jace: ‘You wanna do a lingerie campaign and let men thirst over you? Cool. But they’re gonna watch you break for ME.’”
“Jace really saw those SKIMS pics, picked up his phone, and said: ‘hold my beer.’”
“THAT MAN POSTED A WHOLE MOVIE. AMAZON PRIME COULD NEVER."
TIKTOK REACTIONS: Viral TikTok Caption
“POV: Jace Velaryon took his SKIMS revenge to another level and now we’re all screaming, crying, throwing up.”
Sound: Cardi B screaming “WHAT WAS THE REASON?!”
“Y’all, Jace didn’t just claim his girl. He PLANTED HIS FLAG.”
“Her legs shaking and him laughing about it…? Yeah. I need therapy.”
“Jace’s hand on her ass, the way she arched, the way he smacked down??? I HAVE NEVER KNOWN PEACE.”
FINAL VERDICT:
The internet is absolutely UNWELL. Jace won. You? Finished. The SKIMS campaign? Irrelevant.
The moment Daemon sees the SKIMS campaign, his entire demeanor shifts. He had been lounging in his office, scrolling absentmindedly through his phone—until your face, your body, wrapped in delicate lace, fills his screen. His jaw clenches, his grip on the phone tightening as he watches you pose effortlessly, seductive and stunning, every inch of you made to be worshipped.
And so were the thousands of comments under the post.
“She’s an angel AND a sin. How is that fair?”
“I need her. No, actually, I’ll die without her.”
“Whoever her man is, I hope he knows he lost her to the world today.”
Daemon lets out a dark chuckle, but there’s nothing amused about it. His blood is boiling, his possessiveness clawing at his insides. Lost you to the world? They had no idea who they were talking about.
With a sharp inhale, he slams his phone down on the desk and gets up, pacing the room. His mind races. He knows you love teasing him, knows you like pushing boundaries—but this? This was a direct challenge. A test. And Daemon Targaryen does not lose.
Grabbing his car keys, he heads straight for you. No calls. No texts. You knew what you had done. Now? Now, you’d deal with the consequences.
The internet exploded within minutes of Daemon’s post.
No caption. No explanation. Just you, completely wrecked—your expression dazed, mouth parted as soft whimpers left your lips. His hand cradled your face, slapping your cheek with a teasing, mocking rhythm. And though his other hand wasn’t in frame, the wetness sounds that filled the video left no room for imagination.
Twitter/X:
“WHAT THE HELL DID I JUST WATCH???”
“Daemon just said ‘she’s MINE’ without saying a single damn word.”
“This man saw the SKIMS shoot and said ‘bet’ 😭”
“HELP ME I CAN’T BREATHE WHY IS NO ONE TALKING ABOUT THE SOUNDS???”
Instagram Comments:
“Okay but the way she looks at him?? That’s not just lust, that’s ruin.”
“He posted this just to remind everyone he owns her and honestly? It worked.”
“WHO ALLOWED THIS TO BE ON MY FEED??? I have work in the morning.”
“I feel like I just saw something I shouldn’t have… and yet I can’t stop watching.”
TikTok Reactions:
Edits of the SKIMS shoot transitioning to Daemon’s video with captions like:
“She teased him, and he answered.”
“SKIMS said ‘sexy’—Daemon said ‘MINE’.”
Compilation of reactions to the sound alone, with people throwing their phones across the room or covering their faces in shock.
Reddit Threads:
“Daemon Targaryen just changed the internet forever.”
“The SKIMS campaign was a declaration. Daemon’s video? A WAR CRIME.”
“How do we recover from this? WE DON’T.”
While some were losing their minds over the intensity, others were spiraling at the undeniable claim staked in that video. Daemon wanted the world to know—you were his, and no amount of cameras or campaigns would ever change that.
Tag list : @danytar @hangmanscoming @julessworldd @yazzzmints @giirlinblack @searatarg @vaelry @ashblooddragons @callsignwidow
Thank you to @zaldritzosrose for letting me using your dividers ❤️🩹
#hotd imagine#hotd#hotd one shot#hotd x reader#aegon ii targaryen#aemond targaryen#hotd aemond#prince aegon targaryen#aegon ii fanfic#hotd fanfic#aegon modern au#modern jacaerys#modern aemond#hotd modern au#modern hotd#modern aegon#modern daemon#hotd daemon#hotd headcanon#hotd smut
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the ballad of john and yoko is such an evil song (affectionate) i genuinely love it so much
#the personal reason#well it's a long story but the tldr is that a girl in my sophomore year friend group two-timed two guys in our dorm#(in that she was hooking up with both of them without telling the other) and also we all lived in a house-dorm of 35 so we all. were very#familiar with each other#and one of the guys was a super senior/masters student and the other was a sophomore and also in our friend group#full disclosure my account is biased but he was suuuuper into her and took her out on a bunch of dates and was rly sweet#while the super senior was insanely rich and kind of a dick and did none of that beyond sleeping with her#there was a biiig blowout fight the one week i wasnt there which culminated in the girl locking herself in the bathroom and the super#senior banging on the door and screaming at her#and then. she ended up dumping our friend and dating the shitass super senior#and we all told her like hey....this guy rly isnt good for you we care for you and he's been treating you like shit#and she was like idgafffffff#and. to their credit they're still together lol props to them but she kinda got dropped from our friend group because of the whole shebang#anyways. the super senior was a HUGE beatles fan and would caption all his ig photos with lyrics#and he posted a pic of the two of them dressed in all black and turtlenecks with 'the ballad of john and yoko'#and now as a beatles understander i realize how fucking insane that is. and also they will never be Them it's infuriating in that regard too#also the fact that the bassline is soooooo present like that one quote aboht george choosing mot to participate because 'it's the ballad of#john and yoko' not 'the ballad of john and yoko and george'. ignoring that paul was Right There with them in da stu#insanity. what a good fucking song
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various little Pictures of thinges
#photo context/information described here in the tags since there are no longer photo captions#(from top Left to right) image 1: BABYY!!!!! SON!!!!! HE!!!!!!!!!!!!#image 2: I found a patch of these clovers that were kind of mutated or infected or something? like they were not actually Red clovers#it was patches of totally normal green clovers except every once in a while one of them would have one leave thats red or half red or even#be completely red. AND they were growing near a patch of these wildflower weeds that have red stems to them. so I wonder if it's even poss#ble that maybe some of the red like.. got mixed in with the clovers somehow? a lot of the patches with a few red ones look spotty and unhea#thy so it could have been the sun or something. I dont know how plants work. I just thought it was really cool to find these one or two#special mutant clovers in huge patches of ohtwerise totally normal green clovers.. :0#image 3: look at these weird round fat baby carrot things... Rotund#image 4: laying out some fabrics for a costume just drafting them and seeing what looks okay in the pile and what doesnt etc.#thats my whole process is just 'throw things into a pile on the floor that look okay and match then put them on eventually' lol#image 5: MORE wii scores lol.. I think this is my best score on this one though. There's 10 little markers you have to select so getting 7#means I selected more than one per second.#image 6: I couldnt decide which type of muffins I wanted so I just made a batch of plain/vanilla batter and then added things to each littl#section to make multiple flavors without having to actually make a full batch or multiple batters lol. I think it's chocolate swirl (with d#rk chocolate chunks). banana cinnamon. strawberry. normal chocolate. rosemary and lemon. peach. ginger peach turmeric. and#'scraps of the other batters all thrown together' lol. Decent however the random recipe I found online for a basic cupcake batter was#not very good and they were weirdly dense and spongy.#image 7: A PICTURE OF THE dishscapes that I watched and rambled about (to the like 5 of you who saw that post#and read the tags of it lol).... beach houes..I still so much wish I could make my own Fantasy Screensaver Story.. oughh#image 8 & 9: a really cool flower from outside. I like that it has all these weird spindly little things from the center :0#photo diary
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all the times franco colapinto and yn were unhinged on each others socials
find more here!
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francolapinto just posted.
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liked by ynusername, williamsracing, alexalbon and 394.483 others
francolapinto this has been such an amazing experience! thank you @/williamsracing 💙
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ynusername post season celebrations starts... now🤭
francolapinto then why are you laying next to me STILL DRESSED?
ynusername ugh men these days... i wont do the work myself silly
alexalbon do you guys realise this is not a private chat?
user1 OMG PLS THEYRE ARE SO CUTE AND DUMB TOGETHER
user2 williams pls pls pls never make them change🙏🙏🙏
user3 I'm gonna miss him so much💔
williamsracing it was a pleasure to have you with us💙
alexalbon good luck mate!💙 (finally all this lack of pr training will stop😍)
ynusername are you sure about this...
alexalbon NO
user4 KELSMBAKAKS SHE'S SUCH A DIVA
user5 yn you will be forever missed.
user6 no more yn and franco comments😔
francolapinto no one can stop us😏
williamsracing 😰
landonorris blocked❤️🔥
user7 it was about time
charlesleclerc hoping I'll see you more around the paddock! 😊
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liked by francolapinto and others
f1wags_and_gossip recent photos of yn! she looked stunning in NYC💚
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user8 LMAOOO NOT FRANCO IN THE LIKES
user9 he's obsessed 🥲
user10 WHO WOULDN'T??? THAT'S YN WE'RE TALKING ABOUT🙏‼️
francolapinto DAMN RIGHT🤭
user10 OMG FRANCO????
francolapinto mami
user11 ohhh there he is
francolapinto ughhhh why she always looks so good😣😣😣
user12 its not fairrrr
user13 tbh franco is so real cause HAVE U SEEN HER??
francolapinto step on me. run me over. literally do anything you want and I'll still beg for more🙏
f1wags_and_gossip oh!
user14 well that was... specific😀
user15 we listen and we don't judge ☝️
user16 judge? i would let her do way worse things to me😞
francolapinto ^^
user16 LOL AJaAKKAKA FRANCOOO
williamsracing we can't even take a breath without franco causing media scandals
francolapinto again, appreciating my woman shouldnt be a scandal???
alexalbon he'll never understand i fear...😟
user17 PLS STOP AJJAJAJAHAHA
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ynusername second pic is me when he looks at me with those pretty green eyes and asks me if i want to get on my knees for him😇
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user18 oh...
user19 CAPTION IS INSANE
user20 insanely REAL you mean?
user21 oh! that's not...
francolapinto you always make the prettiest expression i cant help it but ask🫣
ynusername awww🥹
user22 GIRL WHY ARE YOU DISCUSSING THE WAY YOU GIVE HEAD HERE????
alexalbon agreed. go somewhere else.
ynusername no❤️
landonorris I THOUGHT I BLOCKED YOU AND THAT THING EWWWW
ynusername dont worry ill block you now🙏❤️
landonorris thank god
user23 lmfaoooo lando is so me rn
user24 can i be blocked too? i cant keep seeing this
yourbestie CAN YOU IMAGINE HOW I FELT OPENING INSTAGRAM AND YOU POPPING ON MY SCREEN HALF NAKED IN FRONT OF MY ALL FAMILY?
ynusername ooooopppppsssieee
yourbestie girl.
yourbestie OMG I JUST READ THE CAPTION WTF IS THAT EW?
user25 literally my reaction
user26 we'll all been there...😔😔😔
francolapinto 🤤🤤🤤
user27 OH HE'S BACK
user28 ffs it wasnt already enough?
francolapinto ai dios mios mami i want you so bad
ynusername you can have me whenever you want baby
francolapinto dont say it twice
alexalbon bleach. i need bleach.
landonorris me too. me too.
charlesleclerc so we all need it, right?
williamsracing yes.
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more here!
#franco colapinto smau#franco colapinto texts#franco colapinto x you#franco colapinto fic#franco colapinto fluff#franco colapinto smut#franco colapinto fanfic#franco colapinto x reader#franco colapinto imagine#franco colapinto#fc43 fic#fc43 x reader#fc43 x you#fc43 imagine#fc43 smut#fc43#f1 smau#f1 smut#f1 x reader#f1 imagine#f1 fic#f1 fanfic#f1
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What would it be like yandere bully vs yandere jock fighting over the nerd reader?
Yandere jock, bully fighting over nerd male reader head cannons~. ૮ ྀི◞ ⸝⸝ ◟ ྀིა
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For the sake of this post I’ll call Yandere bully(Damian) and Yandere jock(Jake) <33
When Damian first started bullying you it was out of the obsession he had built on you over the summer. Jake first noticed you when he was in study hall and was assigned you as his tutor, the two of you became really close during the tutoring sessions so much that he’d invite you to his place just wanting to be around you as much as he could. Dumping his cheerleader girlfriend asking you to come to his games even trying to get you to wear his jacket insisting it was just him “wanting you to show team spirit for him”.
Damian hating how close you got with Jake turning into pure hatred for the jock, it starts with Damian being a little meaner to you trying to get your attention nearly tormenting you daily in hopes you’d just focus on him. Jake always pushing Damian away or making him go away whenever he’s around. The two ending up going at it figuring daily, the cameras Jake had installed in your bedroom whenever he was over suddenly getting hacked by Damian.
Jake who asks you out getting you to some how say he’s taking a video of him having you in the backseat of his truck with your legs held spread wide getting stretched out with your lips making an “O” shape whimpering out “J-ake~!” Over and over when he hits your bundle of nerves penetrating you. Jake showing the video to Damian whispering “think he likes me more Mr bully?” In a mocking tone just to rile him up into a fury nearly having a tantrum only making his obsession over you grow.
Damian who pulls you out of lunch just to fuck you bent over in the back of the library, his hand over your mouth huffing degrading words in your ear “if I knew you were such’a damn slut I woulda given you a good fucking so long ago” his hands harshly punching your hips “did that dumb jock fuck you like this hm? Did he thrusts like this pretty boy?” Jerking your hair wanting to be the only man to ruin your hole—to touch and grip your skin, not that jock.
Jake stalking you after school making sure Damian doesn’t get any free chances with you. Jake giving you rides having your head between his thighs sucking him off behind school in the back of his truck just taking pictures without you knowing bragging and mocking Damian saying “clearly he likes my cock more? Don’t ya think Damian?” He’d caption the photo he sent Damian just to further fight wanting it known you chose Jake.
You finally snapping at the two of them arguing you weren’t in the middle threatening to never speak to either of them, they didn’t seem to like that, them ending teamed up on you for the greater good of keeping you. Damian In front of you in the janitors closet face in your chest knocking your books aside with his cock deep inside your ass having Jake behind you his cock rubbing against Damian’s with his hands on your hips holding you up in place murmuring “he’s being so good for us ain’t he Damian” only earning grunts and a “yeah he is” from Damian. Both them deciding then and there you were theirs, no choice needed you’d be passed and shared by only them.
#sleep 0 deprived#sleep-0-deprived#x male reader#x male reader smut#yandere cw#bottom male reader#sub male reader#gay mlm#mlm ns/fw#top male yandere#male yandere x male reader#yandere oneshot#yandere original character#dom yandere#yandere obsession#yandere oc#yandere male#yandere x male darling#yandere x male reader#yandere x reader#yandere character#male yandere#mlm yandere#yandere mlm#dark content#dark content x male reader#tw dark content#bottom male#x bottom male reader#x sub male reader
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I just thought of how cute it would be if Bakugo ever tried to win over someone and ended up becoming 'one of the girls' in her group friendship.
He's not yet a boyfriend because he hasn't worked up the courage to confess, but he makes his attraction obvious. But you're oblivious to it.
He tries hanging out with you alone sometimes, but you're really close with your girls, so he ends up hanging out with you all as a group.
And he acts grumpy, always, but there's some moments of tenderness between you all.
You complain you're hungry one day whilst you're both in the dorm kitchen and he offers to make you a sandwich. But then two of your friends walk in, and tease at him about why he's making only you a sandwich.
He glares at them, grumbling. Usually, he wouldn't care. He'd yell at them maybe, scoff with that scowl on his face, and make some comment about how you're the one that's hungry.
But the way you giggle and smile has him malfunctioning, a blush dusting his cheeks and his body tensing in frustration.
You're so beautiful.
And so, in an attempt to hide his feelings for a while longer, he ends up making for them, too. Four of you end up sitting around the kitchen island, munching on his unsurprisingly good sandwiches, your friends teasing him and laughing with you.
They know he likes you. It's obvious, and if he were ever to ask their help in anything concerning romance with you, they'd help without complaint.
But watching him fumble around you was entertaining and endearing. Plus, he was a good friend when he wanted to be.
I'm talking, agreeing to take faceless pictures with them to make some guy they were talking to jealous.
Begrudgingly buying you all matching bracelets when they threaten to set you up with some boy from another class.
Giving out guy advice to the best of his abilities, but not without thoroughly shitting on their dating lives.
"You've got fucking commitment issues, you know? I thought you were settling with the movie-date guy."
"If he liked you, maybe you wouldn't have to be the one to text him first after 3 days."
And over time, after he'd managed to actually tell you how he feels, and you both end up together, he can say he genuinely enjoys the company of your friends, and actually does mind when they caption him as 'our bitch' on their posts.
Inspired by this photo by @reharux035 on twitter.
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#bakugo x reader#bakugou katsuki x reader#bakugou x reader#bakugou katsuki#mha bakugou#bnha x reader#katsuki bakugou x reader#bakugou katuski x reader#bakugo fluff
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Little League Karting | George Russell x Reader
Summary: Fighting against Lando's big mouth and fans' speculations, George and Yn somehow managed to keep a special moment hidden from the private eye.
Requested: Yes by anon
Warnings: Pregnancy. Swearing, Fluff. Suggestive comments
2023 season. Pinterest pics
F1 Masterlist
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yn_ln happy anniversary, georgie. here’s to 5 years together. i can’t wait to have at least 50 more with you
2,992 comments
georgerussell63 happy anniversary, my darling. i’d spend forever with you on that beach
alex_albon still can’t believe he went on holiday without me
→ landonorris he stopped loving us 5 years ago
→ georgerussell63 you know you’re always in my heart
→ yn_ln and this is why @/lilymhe and i are running away together
→ georgerussell63 but, i thought you loved me
user1 another day, another shirtless george pic
mercedesamgf1 the cutest grid couple
→ landonorris actually that would be me and carlos
→ danielricciardo no it’s me and max
→ yn_ln stop stealing my moment
charlesleclerc @/georgerussell63 as director of the gpda, i would like you to hear my complaint against your girlfriend posting shirtless pics of you. it has blinded me, thus hindering my ability to drive on sunday
→ yn_ln maybe if you looked at the track more than yourself in the mirror, you would see better
→ charlesleclerc now i’m complaining that she’s hurted my feelings
pierregasly it wouldn’t be a photo dump without shirtless george
user2 so no ring?
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yn_ln my weekend boys
3,850 comments
user3 who’s your favourite
→ yn_ln bono and roscoe
→ georgerussell63 whoa now. i’ll remember this energy when you want me to stroke your back as you fall asleep
→ mercedesamgf1 toto said he would like to talk to you on thursday
→ yn_ln the boss man knows he has a special place in my heart?
→ mercedesamgf1 the question mark makes that doubtful - toto
lilymhe okay but the fit is serving
→ yn_ln had to squeeze myself into those jeans. think i need to stop sneaking a macca’s when george isn’t around
→ lilymhe so long as we can keep our cheeky waffle sundays
→ yn_ln always ;)
→ georgerussell63 excuse me
landonorris fake caption, alex and i aren’t here
→ danielricciardo i think you’ll find i’m her favourite
→ yn_ln my favourite doesn’t race anymore :(
→ georgerussell63 sweetheart, kimi hasn’t raced for over a year
mercedesamgf1 lewis isn’t happy that you chose the photo that makes him look small
→ yn_ln i haven’t yet mastered photoshop. please pass my condolences to lewis for showing him his actual height
user4 my favourite thing about yn’s race weekend posts is seeing how hot she looks in her race day fits
→ user5 yes because she spends fri and sat in Mercedes merch and then SERVES on sundays
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formula1 have added a new YouTube video
user6 not them still being referred to as 2019 rookies like it’s not their 5th year on the grid
user7 did anyone catch what alex said at the end that made george and lando laugh?
→ user8 no i swear it was edited so we couldn’t hear
user9 did you guys see the way alex and george looked at each other? they know something!
→ user10 and the way lando giggled after like he’d done something wrong
user11 not george trying to save himself by saying she’s always in his heart
→ user12 if i was yn, i’d be messaging him saying i caught the ick
→ user13 no because even george looked weirded out after saying it
→ user14 lando and alex immediately taking the piss out of him
→ user15 didn’t he say that to alex and lando once?
user16 lando definitely said something he wasn’t supposed to
→ user17 the fear in george and alex’s eyes before they tried to play it off
→ user18 and we can all tell that little league line was bullshit he made up on the spot
user20 okay so we’re all thinking that one of the grid are having a baby right?
→ user21 the only question is who?
user22 but aside from his brief blunder, the way george spoke about yn in this
→ user23 honestly my goal in life is to have a love like theirs
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yn_ln don’t mind me, just showing off my extensive hoodie collection
3,002 comments
user1 everyone relax, she’s alive
user2 girl, you can’t vanish for 3 months and then show up just to post hoodies?
user3 i love yn but i cannot pretend that this is acceptable. she abandoned us for months and no apology
user4 no babe, we need you back in the paddock serving face and body
landonorris oi, i’ve given you like five and you can’t be bothered- the audacity
danielricciardo DR3 dominance, baby!
carlossainz55 smooth operator
user5 love that she posts a lewis one, not a george one
→ user6 i find it odd. she hasn’t posted him in a while and he’s not liked the post
→ user7 she only posted it 5 hours ago, give the man time
→ user8 but he’s usually always first and no comment?
charlesleclerc wait, i didn’t realise you were taking options from other drivers. can i add to the collection?
→ yn_ln only if it has ‘just an incident’ on it
maxverstappen1 i’ve got one with giant pockets so you can put all your snacks in it
→ yn_ln ladies and gentleman we have a winner!
→ alex_albon i can’t believe he won
→ yn_ln yeah well he tempted me with pickles and peanut butter
→ oscarpiastri together?
→ yn_ln is that a judging tone!
→ oscarpiastri no! please don’t cry again
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user9 um why is this hashtag trending. let’s not speak this into existence
user10 okay some of you calling us crazy but george and yn are one of the more public couples and now we get nothing?
→ user11 i need an interviewer to ask him about her because the way his eyes light up when he talks about her can’t lie to us
→ user12 yes! if the eyes are sad then we know they’re over
albonooo lily asked me to tell you to stop licking the screen
→ lightningmclerc oh so THOSE hormones have kicked in
→ letsgolando they never left, how do you think she ended up in this situation
→ ynoncrack i am not a horndog!
→ princessgeorge well…
chili55 please don’t have another child if this is what we have to deal with
→ ynoncrack have i really been that bad 🥺 george said i haven’t been that hormonal
→ kiksgomes what is wrong with you, carlos! we just got her to stop crying
→ princessgeorge oh no, what’s up, honey?
→ golflils she was upset because your curls looked amazing and she couldn't run her hands through them
→ ynoncrack oh my god, i am a horndog!
letsgolando all i’m saying, baby russell better be mega adorable after all this
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georgerussel63 baby russell was born happy and healthy two weeks ago. whilst we settle into life as new parents, please enjoy some baby bump pictures to tide you over
10,499 comments
alex_albon i’m so happy for the two of you and can’t wait to meet mini russell
→ lilymhe you’re just glad yn won’t be crying on facetime anymore
→ alex_albon that too
user1 okay but the hand placement wow
→ user2 we all know how they ended up here then lol
lewishamilton much love to the new parents ❤️
user3 oh so the complete opposite of a breakup then
user4 hang on a second. so not only was yn pregnant but they've had the baby? parents for real?
user5 how did gossip girl george russell keep this from us
→ user6 especially when he saw us all theorising his breakup
→ georgerussell63 trust me, it was hard
→ yn_ln he wrote a bunch of tweets defending us on a fake account
charles_leclerc congratulations george and yn. i cannot wait to meet the little one
→ alexandrasaintmleux he's already had a bunch of baby ferrari onesies made
→ alex_albon over my dead body will my godbaby wear those!
williamsracing congratulations. what happy news
→ mercedesamgf1 you can’t have him back
→ yn_ln neither of you can have him over the next month. he’s all mine and bean’s
francisca.cgomes free my girl! those boobs belong to me
→ yn_ln always
→ georgerussell63 @/pierregasly please come get your girl. she's trying to steal mine
→ pierregasly she’s right though. you don’t need to be groping her like that on main
→ georgerussell63 oh no one asked you, “tripod”
landonorris oh, thank god. took you long enough to tell the world he was here. keeping it to myself these past few months was giving me wrinkles
→ user7 they’ve had a boy!!!
→ landonorris crap
→ alex_albon well done mate
→ landonorris but i did so well!
→ user8 omg so it was george and yn who were expecting when lando made up that bullshit about little league karting
→ landonorris hey! i want to see their kid in a go kart so it wasn’t a total lie
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Tag list
@peachiicherries @rosecentury @leclercsluvs (you mentioned wanting to read this on an ask WEEKS ago and it's taken me forever to write it so i am so sorry!)
#formula 1#f1#formula 1 smau#f1 smau#formula 1 social media au#f1 social media au#social media au imagine#formula 1 imagine#formula 1 headcanon#formula 1 drabble#formula 1 one shot#formula 1 fluff#formula 1 x reader#f1 imagine#f1 headcanon#f1 drabble#f1 one shot#f1 fluff#f1 x reader#george russell#george russell imagine#george russell drabble#george russell headcanon#george russell one shot#george russell fluff#george russell smau#george russell x reader
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Totally Scrooged
Pairing: Lee Seokmin x f!reader
Genre: neighbor!au, idiots to lovers, fluff/angst/smut
warnings: alcohol consumption, fingering, oral sex (f & m receiving), protected sex, lots of crying, mentions of cheating (not reader or seokmin), theater nerd Seokmin
Length: ~16k
Note: I was hoping to post this way earlier but alas. I got sick back to back over the holidays. ANYWAYS thank u my sweet @gyuswhore for beta reading and talking me down from the edge and @miniseokminnies for all the theater knowledge. And @ugh-yoongi bc words are hard. CHECK OUT the rest of the fics on @camandemstudios and keep an eye for our next project
summary: When your ex decides to propose to his best friend he told you not to worry about only eleven months after your breakup, you decide the holidays aren’t worth it this year. You’re dedicated to ignoring the red and green splashed on every surface, but your neighbor has a way of convincing you maybe the holidays aren’t totally bad.
collab m.list || m.list
This blog is intended for 18+ only! Minors/blank blogs will be blocked.
Shot number four is about the time you realize drinking your sorrows alone in your apartment on a Saturday night is a little bit pathetic. But you unlock your phone out of habit and the same picture of your ex down on one knee in the middle of the street in marathon gear stares back at you and a fifth shot sounds exactly like what you need.
At least the burn of peppermint schnapps is festive.
Ten months. You and Sam split barely ten months and he’s already engaged to Carson.
After three years of dating, getting Sam to talk about plans further than a month out was like pulling teeth. When he asked you to move in with him you thought there was a very real chance he suffered some head injury that day. Sam and long term commitment didn’t mix. Your entire relationship felt like borrowed time. His engagement proved it was the truth.
In hindsight, you should’ve trusted your gut about Sam’s “platonic” “childhood” “best” “friend.”
They did everything together. Their families vacationed in Montauk every summer, they alternated who hosted which major holiday despite living next door, there isn’t a single milestone either achieved without the other. Every time you visited his parents house the plethora of photos of your boyfriend and his best friend from cradle to present day seemed to grow exponentially.
She’s like my sister.
Most people would frown upon dating a sibling after breaking up with their long term girlfriend, who was sick at home with the flu during Christmas, via text but what do you know? You’re the one sitting on your couch in a tiny apartment you can barely afford wallowing in drunk sorrows while they’re out celebrating.
It’s addicting. Scrolling through all the comments on their engagement photos, with a blanket over your head like some fairytale witch. Sam’s friends you tried so hard to bond with flood the comments, gushing about how cute he and Carson are, how happy they are for them.
Your friends text you how much of a jerk he is, a few call but you ignore them. All you want is to wallow in self pity.
Like the judgemental diva she is, Shinx watches from her tower in the corner, green eyes disdainful. She never liked Sam anyway.
It’d be better if Carson wasn’t objectively likable. Everyone liked her, you included. At least, until your boyfriend dumped you in a three sentence text and she posted a picture of them together on her Instagram not twenty four hours later with the caption “the best things take a while” – color coordinated for the Spencer family photo shoot in front of their lake house.
Assholes.
Even when she isn’t dolled up for pictures, you can’t even pretend she isn’t pretty. Carson looks like she belongs on a Hollywood set, even after running a 5k at the crack of dawn. Perfect messy ponytail, face rosie but not too red. It’s not fair, it’s not fair, it’s not fair.
Shot number seven empties the bottle.
Through the living room wall your neighbor belts the lyrics to Celine Dione’s “All By Myself.”
It was ignorable the first few times he replayed it – a little poetic even given the circumstances – but it’s been nearly twenty minutes and you don’t need to be reminded how alone you are. You rocket off the couch and land against the wall with a thud.
“Keep,” knock. “It.” Knock. “Down.” Knock. Knock. KNOCK.
Mr. Neighbor, because you don’t know his name, sings louder.
In the months you’ve lived in this apartment you’ve met your neighbor exactly twice. When you first moved in only two weeks after your break up because Sam’s name was on the lease - not yours – and this was the only place you could find on such short notice in the middle of winter. You had the unfortunate privilege of riding the elevator with him in complete silence, only the sound of your pathetic cries as you moved soggy box after box. He was at least polite enough to take the stairs afterwards. And last month, during a building-wide fire drill because someone on the second floor fell asleep while making boiled eggs. Neither of you felt very chatty at four in the morning.
You couldn’t care less about splotchy cheeks or if your eyes were bloodshot. In your drunken righteousness, you don’t care that there’s mascara running down your face or the sweatshirt billowing around you has grease stains. Something snapped in you. Gritting your teeth, you rush out to the hall and straight for the neighboring door.
Your knuckles sting with each knock but he doesn’t answer until you escalate to pounding against the metal door like the police.
Mr. Neighbor must hear that because Celine cuts off mid-belt. Seconds later the door flies open.
He’s taller than you remember, your eyes level with a hole in the collar of his sweater. When you drag your gaze away from the dip of his throat the combination of tears and booze make deciphering his face incredibly difficult because he has four of them and they keep moving back and forth in blurry circles. His dark hair sticks up in a million directions. Like he put his finger in an electric socket and then tried to fix the mess himself.
Mr. Neighbor stares at you, expression unreadable. “Can I help you?”
“You know,” you start, teetering on drunk feet as you shove an indignant finger into his chest. “Some of us just want to come home from work and relax! Not listen to their neighbors screaming at the top of their lungs.”
“I didn’t realize it was that loud,” he hiccups. “I’ll turn it down.”
It’s hard to be angry when he looks like a mirror image of you. Wet, red-rimmed eyes and a sniffling nose. There’s booze in the air which could be yours but with the state he’s in it’s doubtful. Who listens to “All by Myself” ten times if they aren’t also sobbing alone in the dark?
Guilt squeezes your chest. “Sorry, I’m just…rough day.”
Mr. Neighbor doesn’t say anything for a long time, appraising you silently. If you weren’t drunk off your rocker then the fact you aren’t wearing a bra and the old sweater you tossed on does nothing to hide that fact might be embarrassing. Or how you aren’t even wearing shoes, just fuzzy socks with a hole in the ankle. You also smell like a drunk elf who escaped the North Pole.
“It’s okay. Sorry about the music.”
Mouth moving before you know what comes out, you stop him from leaving just yet. “Why are you crying?”
“Stupid shit,” he says. “Why are you crying?”
You want to brush it off. You’re not looking for pity. Sam objectively sucked and your relationship would’ve ended one way or another. While most people preferred not to be humiliated via social media, it showed his true colors and firmly shut the door. But sometimes, it just feels good to cry all the frustration out and wish the worst on people who deserved it. And you really would prefer not to do either of those things with your neighbor you hardly know.
Especially, when you realize he’s objectively hot even through the blur of tears and intoxication. But alcohol has a way of losing even the tightest lips.
“My ex got engaged.”
His eyes widened in shock before softening in pity.
“Do you wanna come in?”
You don’t sense any ulterior motive. Mr. Neighbor has the vibe of someone who never met a stranger, one of those people you tell your life story to in the airport when your flights are delayed only to leave and realize the only thing you learned about him was he also hated airline food and thought flying first class on domestic flights was a waste of money.
Maybe whatever “stupid shit” he was crying over can be a distraction from your own baggage. If it can’t, at least the invite to complain to a person completely unexposed to the drama of your love life wasn’t half bad.
But you don’t know him. His stupid shit could be infinitely worse and then you look like the asshole while he’s crying over his childhood pet passing away back at his parents house while he’s stuck in his apartment because flights during Thanksgiving were ungodly expensive.
Either way, another person to whine about the world with sounded nice.
You say yes, following him inside.
Mr. Neighbor’s apartment is similar to yours; mirrors the layout of your cramped one bedroom except with neutral colors and a lot more decor. The couch divides the living area from the kitchen. Comfy blankets and pillows littered around. Someone actually lives here, unlike your place where the most personalized thing is fridge magnets. You didn’t feel the need to decorate an apartment you didn’t see yourself staying in very long. Even if it’d been almost a year and the lease renewal sat on your countertop, signed and ready to drop off at the leasing office.
He walks into the kitchen, leaving you to stand awkwardly in the middle of the room while he fishes in the cabinet for something. You sink into one of the leather barstools and watch as he pours water from a pitcher in the sink and slides it across the counter.
“Do you want to talk about it?”
You drink it all in one go while he waits, sobering up enough to realize how embarrassing this all is. You’re drunk, in your mysterious neighbor's kitchen, crying about your ex-boyfriend. But he was drunk, listening to one of the most depressing songs in history, crying about “stupid shit.” Mutually assured destruction.
“We only broke up at Christmas last year.”
“And he’s already engaged?”
“To his best friend.”
At that, Mr. Neighbor procures another glass and pours a little bit of whiskey before presenting it to you. “That’s rough.”
This time, you don’t even wince when you swallow.
He stares, waiting for some sort of reply, tipping the bottle into his own cup but not drinking it just yet. Now that he only has one face instead of four, your face heats. Drunk, sad and a little horny because he has really nice hands, and an even better face.
You tug your phone out and push it across the counter as a distraction for you both. Not that he probably needs it, you’re a wreck. “Here look at this picture.”
Mr. Neighbor scrolls through each picture methodically. Zooming in on strangers he doesn’t even know. Mouthing the caption in silent horror. In effort not to stare at his fingers, you focus on everything else in his apartment.
His fridge is covered in magnets and take out menus, but mixed into the collage are pictures. Photobooth strips in black and white, some large normal photos better suited for a frame. You’re too far away to decipher any of it but curiosity itches you to get a closer look. Postcards from different places, sport theme magnets. Baseball seems to be his favorite.
“He proposed to her at a Turkey Trot?” he says, like the idea is incredibly alien.
“Their families have done it since they were born. Like their moms ran it pregnant and pushed them in strollers until they could keep up.”
“That is….”
You laugh. “Insane.”
“I’m glad you said it,” he chuckles. “Who proposes after running a marathon?”
“I know!” you cry.
You tip the bottle of whiskey into your once again empty mug. There will be hell to pay in the morning but you need something to do to distract from the way your heart pinches at the sound of his laugh. The sad drunk stage is tapering into the horny drunk stage and you really don’t need to ask your nameless neighbor if he wants to make out on his couch. Although, it looks leagues comfier than the second hand lump sitting a wall over. Drinking any more will only make it worse but you need something to do with your hands that doesn’t involve touching him, or thinking about touching him.
He circles the counter and takes the barstool next to yours. Close enough you can feel the heat from his body, the smell of soap and citrus faintly tickling your nose. You want to dive into his shirt and breathe it in until you fall asleep.
Mr. Neighbor is just a decently attractive man that has been overly generous with his time and not been a creep. That is the only reason why your brain is latching onto him right now; you know it. In a few hours, when your head hangs limp over the toilet bowl, you’ll regret this entire interaction and even more if you make it weird.
You balk, rushing away from the thought and looking for a distraction. “I’m not like…pining over him, if that's what you’re wondering. It just sucks seeing your ex who was staunchly against any long term commitment make it clear he was only against long term commitment with you.”
Mr. Neighbor seems to believe you. So many of your friends thought you harbored feelings for Sam this long after the break up but the truth is, you almost expected things to end. Not on Christmas with nothing but a text message, but it always felt like you and Sam had one foot out of the relationship. The end brought certainty and for that you almost felt relieved.
“If it’s any help, I don’t think it was a ‘you’ problem.”
For a second, you want to believe he actually believes that. He’s not just saying it because he’s being nice and letting you cry in his kitchen and drink his booze. Everything about Mr. Neighbor screams PERPETUALLY NICE. Like he saves kittens from trees and walks old ladies across the street in his spare time.
“You don’t even know me.”
“No, but he’s the one that kept you around while waiting for someone else. Sounds like an asshole to me,” he says.
“He is an asshole,” you whisper like a secret. Mr. Neighbor smiles back and you remember you don’t know his name.
He tells you without a shred of judgment.
“Seokmin.”
“I’m YN.”
“I know,” he blurts. His ears tinge pink just before his cheeks. “You had a friend come over one time, she yelled it pretty loud.”
Lydia only had two settings when talking: loud, and louder. Seokmin probably knew a lot more than just your name but was too polite to mention those sordid details.
“So, Seokmin. My drama aside, why were you crying? Or do you listen to depressing music to pregame a wild night out?”
Seokmin nods at your offer to top off his cup and chugs half of it with a wince.
“It feels kinda dumb now but I volunteer at the city theater downtown.”
That explains the framed playbills and theater tickets splashed across the living room walls. A story of all the productions he probably attended or participated in. You only recognized a few of the names. Perpetually Nice, indeed.
“Did one of them dump pig's blood on you while on stage?”
“No, nothing like that.” His mouth unzips into an amused grin. It looks much more fitting than the tears from earlier. “The director won a month-long European cruise and now I’m in charge of the winter production.”
What do people even do on a boat for that long?
“And I’m assuming you don’t want to be the director.”
“I did!” he groans. “But everyone is already emailing me and calling me, trying to bribe me into giving them bigger parts. Have you ever dealt with theater parents?”
Shaking your head, Seokmin grabs your hand with wide, terrified eyes. “They’re like dance moms on crack. I can’t handle it. Not to mention - surprise! - there’s no money for it and I have to do all the fundraising myself.”
Instead of responding, you fill each cup with another generous shot, clink glasses, and swallow them in tandem. The burn is long gone. Now, you feel like you're standing in the ocean, bobbing at the mercy of the waves as he keeps talking about the theater. How someone held him hostage after a meeting for an extra thirty minutes trying to convince him they didn’t need to audition. Someone else proposed an original production of Dracula as a break from the holiday slush every other theater planned. It glides right over your head, until he forces a glass of water into your grip.
“Sorry about my music,” he says.
“Sorry for being a bitch.”
“It’s okay. I get it.”
“Your ex also broke up with you for their childhood best friend?”
“No. The last one broke up with me for her dog walker.”
“Ouch.”
“Yeah, well he’s bald now.” He shrugs and takes another swig. Water not whiskey by the lack of grimace. “She’s also trying to audition.”
At least you have the privilege of watching your ex’s new courtship through the filter of social media. Seokmin is watching it play out a few feet away from him with a constant reminder that his ex-girlfriend was onto seemingly better things with a man who picked up dog shit for a living. Small mercies.
“How long have you two…” you trail off.
“Three months.”
His tone makes it clear there is nothing else he wishes to share on the matter. You get it. Three months after Sam you weren’t ready to talk about it, still kept all the shared memories you two had together in one of the boxes shoved deep in the hall closet. It wasn’t until nearly eight months passed that you finally donated what you could of the gifts he bought you and threw the other half away. Now, you can laugh at the way you sobbed over the ugly monogrammed dish towels from your shared apartment. When his mom gifted them for your birthday, the first thought you had was to burn them.
“So what’s your play?”
Seokmin looks grateful for the swift change in topic. “A Christmas Carol.”
“Never seen it.”
“What?” he gasps. “It’s a classic!”
Below the counter, his knee presses firmly against your thigh. Seokmin doesn’t notice or doesn’t care because it stays there. Warm and grounded and all too tempting but you don’t move away either. A trickle of embarrassment heats your body when you realize you’re wearing the pajama pants Lydia got you for Secret Santa last year. The ones with cartoon gingerbread people fucking in small print all over them. If Seokmin looked down he’d see them in flagrante.
It didn’t mean anything but it felt nice. No way he saw your frumpy clothes and puffy face, crying over your ex and thought I want a piece of that. Typically, drinking only had two paths. On a normal night, you’d go from pleasantly buzzed to “wooo girl drunk,” as Lydia put it, then horny drunk shortly before falling asleep. Tonight, crying drunk meant no woo-ing and definitely no inappropriate thoughts. But Seokmin is the first real man to stoke a tiny ember of interest in months.
It’d be messy. Not the act itself. Maybe. You’re tipsy and he doesn’t look any better but a sloppy makeout wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world. However, making out with your neighbor and then dealing with the fall out of such a clumsy entanglement probably wasn’t worth whatever his hands were capable of.
So you snuff it out.
You shrug. “Not really a big Christmas person.”
“I would invite you to come see it but at this rate I doubt we’ll even have a show to begin with.”
You discover that given the chance, Seokmin talks a lot. Shares his entire life story about moving to the city with a group of friends from college, most of them living with their partners. How he found the theater while on lunch break from his job that he didn’t hate but didn’t like. Started volunteering. Met Martha, now ex-girlfriend, there.
He also asks question after question about you, and somehow it doesn’t feel like he’s prying even though he hardly shares about himself. Probably because you’ve reached sleepy drunk and your eyes drop shut, responding while half asleep. You tell him everything. It’s not like you can embarrass yourself any further. But Seokmin doesn't make you feel the slightest bit of shame.
How you met Sam at a friend’s wedding and Carson was his plus one. How Carson’s boyfriends never seemed to meet Sam’s standards. How she was a little too friendly towards you but Sam swore Carson liked everyone. And from your experience, everyone liked her. Then, last Christmas, you stayed at home with the flu while the annual Phan/Spencer celebration took place and woke up to a nice heartfelt text message.
“That’s so fucked up.”
“Yeah, well what’s even more fucked up is his mom posting a picture of her with Carson captioned ‘the daughter I always wanted.’” you huff. “That really sucked.”
Seokmin doesn’t say anything. Not that he can. How do you comfort a stranger about a shitty relationship with even more beneath the surface?
Instead, you both sit in comfortable silence, locked in separate trains of thought. It isn’t until he messes with his phone and Celine Dion materializes into the room once again that you realize how weird it is to be sitting there, sharing woes with a complete stranger.
“Well, I’m just gonna…” you start, sliding off the bar stool.
“Yeah…”
You don’t look back, making a beeline for the door. “Have a goodnight! I hope you aren’t eaten by steroid fueled theater nerds.”
You’re in the hallway, lock latched firmly behind, before he can respond.
You don’t see Seokmin for another week. Not like you saw him much before but now you have a name to the face, along with hobbies and a personality. And his hands. Which don’t seem to leave your memory despite the desperate effort you put into doing so.
Even if you don’t see him though, you hear him on the other side of your living room wall shuffling around when you get home from work.
He keeps his sad playlist to a minimum, and his singing about the same, flat rumbles through the shared wall you can easily ignore. Sometimes you don’t. Occasionally, you’ll pause whatever Netflix dating show poisoning your brain and listen, eyes closed as your mind wanders.
You hear him humming as he passes your door on the way out to work in the morning while you sip coffee and answer emails from your kitchen counter. Sometimes it's showtunes you don’t recognize, others it's Christmas carols. Seokmin has a lovely voice you realize, now free from irritation. It’s weird you never noticed before.
Apparently, Lydia noticed him long before you did.
You finish telling her about the entire debacle with Sam and Carson. Lydia doesn’t believe in social media of any kind so all of her life updates come over Bananagrams and face masks during your semi-weekly Thursday girl’s night at her apartment.
“You just hang out with your hot neighbor drunk and don’t make a move?” she tsks.
“How do you know my neighbor is hot?”
“Unlike you, I pay attention to my surroundings.”
Part of the reason she deleted all her social media was because she wanted to be more ‘in the moment.’ This proves that maybe it actually worked.
Grabbing more letter tiles, you brush off the taunt. “Well, unlike you, I can keep it in my pants.”
“How long has it been since you let someone under the hood?”
“Not that long,” you grumble.
“Really?” Lydia rolls her eyes at the next word you spell, S-A-D.
“Shut up. It was the only one I could find.” You take another sip of hot cider. The hangover from last week's bender still haunts you. “Horny isn’t spelled with an ‘I’ or an ‘E’.”
“It’s been so long I thought you’d forget how it's spelled.”
A few hours and a couple of episodes of Temptation Island later, you're back home. The chilly air creeps into the mailroom, numb fingers struggling to unlock your mailbox. Bill. bill, catalogue, not yours, bill…
As the elevator carries you up to your floor, you find the last letter. A gold wax seal, velvety envelope. No. No, no, no, no, no.
But it is real and it’s exactly what you’re afraid for it to be when you rip it open right there in the hallway. The picture of Carson and Sam staring deep into each other’s eyes, love-soaked down to the finest details. His hand on her knee, both oblivious to the camera and not in the faux staged way of so many wedding announcements.
Michael and Dena Spencer along with
Jason and Zoya Phan
Invite you to celebrate the marriage of their children,
Samuel Spencer and Carson Phan
You fling the card away like a venomous snake.
What the hell is wrong with them? Is it not enough you were the collateral damage in their whirlwind romance? Now they go and rub it in your face how happy they are together. You were the last obstacle to make them realize they couldn’t live without each other, the catalyst for their happiness. And now you have a tangible reminder of the fact.
Thankfully, the hallway is empty so no one witnesses your mental breakdown. A silent stand off with a glossy wedding announcement. You’re tempted to leave it there, let Sam and Carson get trodded on until they’re nothing but limp confetti.
But you can’t. You snatch the announcement from the floor and bolt to your door, key scraping the lock again and again. You just need to get inside. Get inside and then you can go DEFCON 1, shred the entire letter and do something else rash like give yourself bangs you’ll regret in the morning.
The key still won’t find home in the lock and you’re on the verge of giving up when you realize Seokmin is singing along to some record just a few feet away.
You don’t know him well enough to go banging on his door. One drunken bitch session did not a friend make. Even if the drunk bitch session involved recounting life stories and embarrassing childhood moments. Or pajamas with gingerbread people fucking which he definitely noticed.
But you can’t be left alone with this bomb.
Seokmin is standing before you barely a second after knocking, eyebrows scrunched together. You shove the invite into his chest and wait.
“How does he have your address?” he asks.
You shrug. “I made him mail most of my stuff.”
“Why?” Seokmin turns back into his apartment, the door open in invitation as he falls onto the couch.
“Because he cheated on me. The least I could get was him paying three hundred bucks in shipping.”
“You are a very scary woman.”
You follow. This time, you notice more details. His record player is tucked in the corner, crates of vinyl stacked next to it. The candle burning on the coffee table fills the room with the scent of teak and orange. You recognize it as the same one Lydia got you for your birthday; ‘the boyfriend scent’ as she called it. Of course, he’d have it.
“Thank you.”
Now that you’re here, you’re not sure what to do. Seokmin keeps looking at the invite like some puzzle. Like some underlying explanation is written in invisible ink. There isn’t one. The reason for the invite is clear: your feelings don’t matter and they never did.
“I can’t believe they sent you a wedding invite. That’s so fucked up.”
“I’m probably gonna see all the pictures on Instagram soon anyway. At least, this ripped the band aid off. It just sucks they get to rub it in my face.”
“You still follow them, do they follow you?”
They do. Carson and Sam both follow you but you haven’t posted a single picture since the break up so it’s not like they’re reminded of your presence. Not the same way they remind you. There hasn’t been much worth posting either. You go to work, come home, shower, sleep, repeat. The occasional weekend at the farmers market or trip to the bookstore breaks up the monotony don’t inspire you to post.
“Why?” you ask.
“You want something to rub in their faces.”
“And what exactly would that be?”
“Is there anything he hated doing while you guys dated?”
You laugh at the irony of the one thing Sam hated more than anything else. “He hated being posted on social media.”
“I have an idea.”
“Does it involve more Celine Dion and whiskey?”
“No,” he smiles. “It’s called a ‘soft launch'. One of the high schoolers explained it to me today.”
“Why are you talking to highschoolers about relationships? Actually, nevermind.” You snatch the invite away from his hands and flip it face down onto the couch. “And what is the point of me soft launching a nonexistent relationship?”
“He sent you a wedding invitation.”
“Okay?”
“So he’s either insane or isn’t completely over you. This is a way to show him you don’t care.”
“He broke up with me on Christmas while I was dying of the stomach flu. I don’t think he cares.”
Seokmin rises from the couch and heads towards the kitchen. “Do you want some wine?”
“Just water.”
He’s wearing the same costume as last week, sweatpants and a sweater. But his hair is a little wet and falls over his glasses. The look, the boyfriend candle, everything Lydia suggested… You should go home before making an idiot of yourself.
Seokmin returns with two glasses, places them both on the coffee table before tossing you a blanket. How can you leave now? It’d be rude. Besides, you want to find out where his offer is going.
“As I was saying: soft launch.”
“I still don’t understand where this is going.”
“You post it on your story, he sees, feels like a huge idiot, and then—”
“And then what? I don’t want him back.” But the thought of making Sam squirm is a validating one. Let him see you the way he’s forced you to see him. Happily moved on with someone else. Even if it isn’t real. “Fuck it. Let’s do it.”
It’s an easy photo. In theory. Nothing too suggestive, nothing that shows his face. But should you be touching? How much touching is appropriate for a man you’ve talked to twice? Seokmin doesn’t seem to know either. He searches the internet for inspo, some far too intimate for you to dream of. Sitting on his lap? Absolutely not. Having him hold you around the waist? No way. None of it would be believable.
“Okay, what about this one?” he asks after twenty minutes of scrolling.
On the surface, it’s nothing bad. The picture is relatively innocent with Person A’s legs draped over Person B’s lap, hand placed on Person A’s shin. Nothing crazy. At this point, you just want it over with.
“Fine.”
You wore semi-decent sweatpants this time so you don’t worry about that. It’s the entire premise of touching Seokmin so casually and having him touch you in return. But you take it in stride as you both maneuver and twist until you're a perfect copy of the already existing image.
Opening the camera on your phone, you snap a pic and hand it to Seokmin for approval.
“Eh…”
“‘Eh’? What does ‘eh’ mean?”
Apparently, ‘eh’ means Seokmin is wrapping his entire hand around your knee, the other hand on your ankle, and pulling you closer until your butt rests flush against the outside of his thigh. And then he doesn’t move either hand while waiting for you to snap a new picture. It feels like a thousand pounds.
When you’re done, he leans over to assess the photo and you’re stuck with the image of him hovering over you. The picture goes up on your story, embellished with a heart emoji and Seokmin leaves your space but only barely.
“Should I RSVP too?” you joke. It’s weak, your voice thin because you don’t know if he can tell your sweating.
He leaves even more space between you at that, scratching the back of his neck. “Ugh—”
“I wouldn’t actually go but I like the idea of them wasting money.”
“You know what? Do it. Did they give you a plus one?”
You jolt at the idea of Seokmin filling in the role. Focus.
Their wedding site is filled with Pinterest inspiration level engagement photos. You ignore the fact it’s at the park Sam took you to for your first date. You don’t own Emerald Park, or the fountain in the background of their pictures where you and Sam first kissed, and you certainly didn’t own the botanical gardens frozen around them as they walked hand in hand. Hundreds of other couples, you and Sam included, visited Emerald Park all the time. It just feels tacky they would do a full photoshoot where half a dozen of your relationship landmarks lay. But Carson probably owned those spots well before you came into the picture.
Once you hit ‘Yes’ on the RVSP, including your fake plus one, things peter out into awkward silence. You’re still draped over Seokmin’s lap, his hands absentmindedly running up your shin, smoothing the wrinkles in your pants.
Who gets turned on from having their shin fondled?
“How is your play going?” you ask.
“Not horrible.”
“But?”
“Our sets are old, we don’t have costumes and we open in three weeks.”
Seokmin seems to be in the acceptance stage of his grief. At least he isn’t wailing any more Now That’s What I Call Depressing music.
“So it’s not too late for that space idea then?”
He cracks up at that and you feel glowy from the sound of his laugh, the way his chest shakes. He squeezes your ankle. You preen. He still has his hand on your knee, thumb burning uneven circles through the thick fabric.
“I don’t know if anyone wants to see Scrooge in a space suit.”
“Who?”
Seokmin takes the question as a personal affront and decides you can’t leave his apartment without watching at least one version of A Christmas Carol.
You try not to read into things but there aren’t many explanations available. The TV plays the animated version with Jim Carry starring in almost every role which is apparently second only to the muppets version.. Seokmin popped popcorn. And when he came back to the couch, he pulled your legs back over his lap like it was normal. You’re rusty on dating but the amount of times your hand brushes his in the popcorn bowl is starting to border on ridiculous.
Instead of focusing on how this feels a lot like a date, you focus on the movie. Or try to. It helps that Seokmin remains unaware of your inner turmoil, he’s too busy gauging whether you hate or love the movie and looking for your reaction every time one of the ghosts appears.
The angle isn’t conducive to watching the movie either. You can’t turn without straining your neck, unless you pull away from his hold which you don’t want to do at all. And Seokmin is so focused on your reactions that he isn’t catching much of the film either.
He clearly loves it, and wants you to love it too. So you act extra interested but it’s not difficult because clearly he sees something spectacular happening on screen and it makes you eager to see it too. Even if only to distract from his thumb slipping beneath your sock and circling the knob of your ankle.
The movie fades to black, Scrooge is redeemed and your neighbor is watching you with bated breath.
“So…”
You smile at his eagerness. “It was good.”
“Isn’t it? It’s a classic.”
Something about his sheer enthusiasm tugs at your heart strings.
“I’ll help you.”
Everything in your body screeches WHAT ARE YOU DOING?
Seokmin must think the same thing, face slack in disbelief. Too late, you’ve already committed.
“My company is always throwing money at stuff during the holidays,” you rush, face heating. “Maybe they could sponsor you guys to help with the sets or something.”
He keeps staring and you keep talking because you’re not sure if this crosses some invisible line. Unlike the touching, or the picture, or the ugly crying last week. Slowly, amazement rooted on his face. Even in your rumpled clothes, he looks at you like you’ve dropped nothing short of a miracle in his lap.
In a flurry of motion, Seokmin drags you into a hug, arms tight around your back, crushing you into his chest. The baggy sweaters you’d seen him in all of once hid firm ridges of muscle. You try not to indulge but your hands are wedged tightly between your bodies, and you’re practically sitting in his lap at this point.
And as fast as it happened, he lets you go and nearly flings himself off the opposite end of the couch.
“Sorry! I just—” His head cocked to the side. “Are you sure? I don’t want you to feel obligated—”
“I love taking money from people who don’t need it. It’s one of the few joys in my life actually,” you say. “And if they don’t sign a check, we can always try armed robbery. Do you own a ski mask?”
He pretends to think before smiling. “Funnily enough, I don’t. But something tells me you do.”
“A woman never reveals her secrets.”
The next few days pass uneventfully. You hear Seokmin come home later and later, pointedly aware that you’re aware of his coming and going. Occasionally, when it’s still early, he knocks an odd rhythm on the wall separating your living rooms and you learn it's a summons. He wants to watch a movie, or share dinner because he made too much, or hear something about your day that didn’t involve a six year old attempting an accent for their character and sounding like Dick Van Dyke in Mary Poppins.
Even when you give him your number, he still knocks. Everytime you fight the urge to squeal like you’re back in high school.
The show is going as well as it can. People have their parts (with minimal complaining). Most of the costumes are free of mold (he sent you pictures wearing half the wardrobe). And Seokmin is maintaining his sanity. Barely.
In the rush of it all, you made a promise not to fuck where you eat. One messy break up requiring a move was enough for a lifetime. While Lydia took every update as another sign he was into you, the risk was too much. What if you misread everything? What if Seokmin wasn’t completely over his ex-girlfriend? She hadn’t come up again since that first night but that didn’t mean anything. At that stage of your break-up you hardly talked about Sam. Maybe Seokmin was still pining for her and you were just there. Or vice versa. He could see you were having a difficult time with the engagement and offered a shoulder to cry on.
Even worse, what if you did sleep with him and it was bad. So bad you could never look him in the eye again. Or he could have a weird dick. Or cry after sex. What if he secretly had a piss kink and that was the real reason Marta broke up with him? The lack of red flags only point to some flaw below the surface you hadn’t learned about yet.
Lydia thought it was ridiculous.
“I will bet my first edition Hobbit that his dick is completely normal,” she huffs through the speaker, the sound of her stationary bike echoing in the background.
Your Friday nights are usually spent curled up on the couch with wine and a movie but you couldn’t wait to give Seokmin the envelope containing a metaphorical golden ticket. The downtown streets are crowded near the theater where the entire cast and crew are spending the evening polishing up the existing set pieces but you brave it, if only to see the look on his face at the number of zeroes on the check.
“You just want me to sleep with him.”
“Is it so wrong I want my best friend to sleep with a nice, attractive man? Do you know how rare those are in this city?”
Your eyes roll. “He is my neighbor.”
“Your hot neighbor. Who has a normal dick and listens to Celine Dion when he’s sad.”
Something stopped you from telling her about the picture, and how Seokmin stayed cuddled up to you the rest of the night. Probably because you know she’d add it to the mounting pile of reasons to ruin whatever tentative friendship built between you.
You find a parking spot and bid Lydia goodbye.
The building lobby, with sleek marble archways and a dusty chandelier the size of your living room, is empty sans a lone security guard scrolling on his phone. He doesn’t try to stop you as you stroll right past and into the auditorium. You don’t want to be a creep that watches from the dark but the sight of your neighbor stops you in your tracks. To hear about his work was one thing, however, seeing him in his element is another.
He’s got paint all over his shirt and jeans and his hair is a mess from running his hands through it but he addresses the entire cast with confidence. Answers their questions, points the crew in the right direction, scans his binder next to someone with a headset who must be important.
Everyone is caught up in their work so they don’t notice as you approach from the aisles, footsteps muffled by the carpeted floors. You’ve never been here before but the history of the building isn’t lost on you. The walls and ceiling stretch high above, intricate moldings weaving up to frame large murals of greek-style motifs. The cushioned seats had seen better days. Red velvet crushed flat, ripped seams and stained with time. But it has a charm to it.
It was easy to imagine Seokmin finding home in this place. Losing himself on stage, spending hours and hours hidden away with a script.
He finally notices your presence when you approach one of the side stage staircases.
“And what do I owe the honor?” he asks, lips unzipping into a grin you can’t help but return.
You wave the white envelope in response, bowing comically low. “I come bearing a gift.”
“Is that—“
You nod solemnly, forcing it into his hands. “Open it!”
Seokmin stares at the envelope the same way he stared at you the night you offered to help him out. A small miracle in the palm of his hand. Your boss signed the check without question. It was a good look to sponsor local events, great publicity and a tax write off. The second you mentioned there were children in the cast and it was volunteer only he doubled the donation.
Seokmin opens the envelope, pausing to read. His eyes bulge. “Two grand? Are you serious?”
“Yep. All it took was the promise of two pages in the back of the program. So if you could get that message passed along.”
He hasn’t looked away from the check as a flush rises up his neck. “I’ll get their logo tattooed on my forehead if they want.”
“Tried that…” you joke. “They went up to two thousand with the promise you wouldn’t..”
“This is…”
You’re swept into a hug tight enough to pop something in your back. Too tight, with your arms wedged between your chests like the first time but you don’t mind. Seokmin is warm
“Thank you, thank you, thank you,” he chants, spinning you around.
You soak in the contact for as long as you can. Seokmin gives great hugs, better than great. You didn’t realize you craved the firm comfort of his arms until you had it once again and now that you do, you don’t want him to stop.
You notice someone watching over Seokmin’s shoulder. She’s pretty. Dark curly hair, button nose, big doll eyes boiling with indignation.
“Is that her?” you whisper into his neck.
“Her who?”
“Mrs. Bald dog walker.”
Seokmin loosens his grip just enough to look. “Yeah. Why?”
You bury your face back into the crook of his and give him a squeeze. Seokmin returns it instinctively, arms slug across the small of your waist like a puzzle piece.
“Marta isn’t the jealous type,” he whispers.
“Huh, that’s weird.” Your lips purse. “Because she just stormed off.”
Seokmin whips around to look at the now vacant spot where his ex-girlfriend once stood.
“Consider it as my thank you for the soft launch.”
“Did that actually work?” he asks.
You can’t admit you forgot to check if either Carson or Sam looked at your post. Coincidentally enough, you were too wrapped up in thoughts of the man before you to remember the entire reason he touched you so casually that night was for petty revenge and not because he actually wanted to.
“Who cares?” you bluff. “Anyway, I was thinking of another fundraiser. Maybe it can give you guys some money for some updated set pieces.”
They could definitely use it. One of the stagehands staples fabric across a hole in the couch so wide you’d bet money the next person who sits on it would sink straight through to the ground, another slathers a thick layer of white paint on a dry rotted board. What good are new costumes without good props?
“If you keep helping us out, they’re gonna have to change the name of the building.” Seokmin smiles down at you. His hand is still at the small of your back but even through the many layers protecting you from the chill you can feel the heat of his touch.
“I’ve always wanted a theater named after me. Like a Rockefeller or something.”
“So what is this idea?”
You gaze at him expectantly. “How many of your friends are single?”
It took little convincing for your plan. Seokmin turns out to be a bartender and his boss agrees to host it (pending a small cut of the proceeds), and several of his friends volunteer to help a good cause.
You’ve never been to this bar either but it somehow fits him too. Not a complete dive but cozy and well weathered. Multicolored string lights hang from the rafters so thick you can’t even see the ceiling, and posters, neon signs, and other decor obscure the walls. A low platform in one corner clearly meant for live entertainment becomes the auctioneer block with a banner strewn above reading THEATER FUNDRAISER in painted bubble letters.
Most of the people in the crowd are involved in the theater one way or another. Volunteers, cast and crew, a few parents coming for the drink specials and a show. A few outsiders mix in with the batch; regulars, people who saw the chalkboard sign on the street and got curious. Seokmin’s friends linger around the pool table in the corner, nervously shuffling around.
You’re on your way over to finalize the order when Seokmin and Lydia intercept you.
“Small problem,” he says.
“What?”
Lydia sighs. “Mingyu has a girlfriend.”
“Since when?” you ask.
“Apparently fifteen minutes ago.”
“Oh,” you say. “Good for him.”
“Except we’re a man down.”
“I’ll do it,” Seokmin interjects.
Your gut curls. The idea of someone, not you, going on a date with him leaves a sour note in your mouth. But you’re not in a position to say anything.
But it doesn’t stop you.
“You can’t!” you blurt.
“Why not?” he asks, eyebrows furrowed.
Lydia looks down right maniacal at your outburst. No way are you going to admit whatever feelings you have for Seokmin right now.
“Who is gonna be the host if you’re busy?”
“I’ll do it,” Lydia says. There’s a dare in her gaze. She can smell bullshit a mile away. “Unless there’s some other reason Seokmin needs to host.”
She bats her eyelashes with all the innocence of the devil.
“Fine,” you nod.
Lydia snags the mic from Seokmin and bolts for the stage. “Alright, settle in! Tonight we’re raising money for a good cause. So let’s get this show on the road, and remember—no refunds, no takesies backsies, and no funny business! We take Venmo or cash. No checks! Now, first up, we have Seungcheol!”
Seungcheol steps up to the stage, body lax as the crowd eyes him up and down. He was the first person to volunteer when you explained your idea – spawned from many sorority fundraisers in college – to Seokmin. The others followed suit shortly after, giving you six men in total willing to go on a date (no funny business) in the name of supporting the arts.
“Twenty dollars!” a woman in a dark jacket calls.
“At least let me tell you about him before going at him like a piece of meat!” Lydia jokes.
Someone else interjects. “Forty dollars!”
Lydia ignores her. “He enjoys camping, sports, and long walks on the beach,” she reads off the notecard. “And he can fix your car courtesy of Choi Mechanics.”
“Seventy five.”
People keep increasing their bids, Seungcheol clearly enjoying the attention as he jokes and winks towards the more eager ones. He’s preening while you and Seokmin watch in giddy amusement by the pool table, faces hidden in your drinks.
“Two hundred dollars!” someone near the back calls.
“Two fifty!”
“That’s Seungcheol’s girlfriend,” Seokmin whispers from your side.
You try to get a better look but Seungcheol’s girlfriend remains hidden at a table behind several others.
“Then why is he doing this?”
Seungkwan comes up beside you. “Because they’re exhibitionists.”
“Sold!” Seungcheol yells.
“I’m the one with the gavel,” Lydia objects. She pounds the gavel to emphasize her power. “Sold for two hundred and fifty dollars!”
Seungcheol drops a wad of cash from his own wallet into the bucket at the front of the stage and disappears into the corner of the room where his girlfriend waits. You make a mental note to avoid that side of the bar for the rest of the night, just in case.
The other guys go easy, thriving on the momentum of Seungcheol. Soonyoung gets a date with a woman old enough to be your mother but he looks positively thrilled. Even Mingyu stops by to drop a couple bucks into your hand as an apology. Then it’s Seokmin’s turn.
“He can cook, he’s good with kids, and he makes a mean mojito,” Lydia announces. “Give it up for our favorite bartender, Seokmin!”
The crowd has mellowed out but remains enthusiastic, regulars and theater people alike clapping as he comes forward. Even his boss behind the bar rings a large bell mounted on the wall reserved for good tippers. Someone wolf whistles and Seokmin goes red.
“Let’s start the bidding at thirty bucks,” Lydia says.
“Fifty!” someone calls.
By some feat of the universe, Seokmin transforms into a maroon faced mess.
You look around the bar and spot her at a table close to the edge of the stage. That ugly gut punch from earlier rears its head again at the gleam in her eyes, like she can’t wait to sink her teeth into Seokmin the first chance she gets. You don’t want Seokmin going on a date with her. You don’t want him going on a date with anyone.
Your mouth is open before you realize. “A hundred.”
Seokmin, Lydia, and just about everyone else in the bar whip their head in your direction. You refuse to look at any of them, staring down your competition as she raises her hand to counter.
“One fifty.”
“Two hundred.”
“Three fifty,” she says, smirking at you.
Lydia levels you with expectant looks. Seokmin watches you like you’re a wild animal, unsure of your next move. You’re in too deep now.
“Four hundred dollars.”
Your competition opens her mouth to rebut; however, Lydia is already swinging the gavel, “Sold! To the beautiful woman in the ugly sweater. Come get your man!”
Seokmin catches your arm before you can open your purse. “You didn’t have to do that.”
“It’s for a good cause. Besides, think of it as a thank you for saving me from spending all my money on take out.”
He stares at you for a second too long, frozen in his own disbelief. You’re lying and you both know it but to admit that him going on a date with someone else, even for a good cause, made you jealous ventures over a line you’re not ready to cross just yet.
“Alright, that was our last man of the night,” Lydia announces into the mic. “Which means we’ve raised a whopping two thousand six hundred dollars for our local theater.”
Everyone cheers once again. The atmosphere is light but the bubble surrounding you and Seokmin is anything but.
He raises an eyebrow skeptically as you shove bills into the collection bucket, pointedly looking anywhere but him lest your face match the red of his own. It doesn’t matter though. You can feel the heat on your cheeks, the sweat at your hairline. Four hundred dollars to go out with a guy.
At least it’s for a good cause.
Seungkwan saves you from whatever questions Seokmin has, pushing his friend back to work behind the bar before cornering you into conversation.
“You,” Seungkwan says.
“Me?”
“Yes, you. I’m having a pre-game at my house tomorrow night. You’re invited.”
“Oh,” you blink. “I’m not really a partier.”
“It’ll be a small thing. Most of the guys here and my roommate. We’re going to Jane’s after.”
“I’ve never been there before.”
Seungkwan stomps indignantly. “You’ve never been to Jane’s? Jane’s is a neighborhood institution.”
“I guess I never got around to exploring much,” you shrug.
“Why not?”
A creature of habit such as yourself, you rarely went to new places. You liked the places you already knew, the ones you didn’t have to guess if you liked. Besides, you hadn’t felt like going out much in the past few months, something always coming up including reasons, such as: you liked your apartment with cheaper drinks, less cigarette smoke, and no strange men trying to mansplain American Psycho.
Lydia appears at your side, new drink in hand. “Did someone say party?”
“It starts at eight thirty, but don’t come until nine. Seok will give you the address.”
Seungkwan disappears into the crowd, leaving you and Lydia hovering at the edge of the stage all alone. If there was one person besides Seokmin you didn’t want to be left alone with, it was her. But it’s too late to escape.
In the face of total mortification, you try to put on a brave face.
“Four hundred? Really?” Lydia asks.
“Shut up,” you mumble into the cup of melted ice.
“Are you sure you’re ready for this?”
“I’ve met your friends before,” you snort.
Seokmin rubs the back of his neck. “Yeah, but they can be a lot and that’s coming from me.”
You refused to let the car ride on the way over be awkward, plowing through whatever cobwebs lingered between you two. Luckily, Seokmin went along, recalling horror stories from Seungkwan’s yearly holiday pre-game. There was the year Soonyoung attempted making hot cider and gave everyone food poisoning. The year after where Mingyu ended up breaking the bathroom doorknob resulting in the fire department coming out to free him because he got stuck trying to crawl out the window above the shower. And most recently, Jeonghan – who you haven’t met yet – hid under the couch for the sole purpose of grabbing people’s ankles as they walked by; except he fell asleep and Seungkwan found him the next morning while cleaning.
Nothing you couldn’t handle.
“Well, if it's too much I’ll send you some code to leave.”
“What should I be looking for exactly?” he asks, lips quirked.
“I’ll start making ghost noises.”
Seokmin snorts when you start demonstrating. “But that happens so frequently. How about morse code?”
“How about I scream at the top of my lungs?” you grin.
“Works for me.”
Seokmin knocks against the dark wood door leading to Seungkwan’s apartment.
“COME IN!” Seungkwan belts, flinging the door open wide. “For me?”
You hand over the bottle of wine with flourish. Heaven forbid you show up anywhere empty handed, a habit hammered in by your mother. “For you.”
Seungkwan pulls you inside. “I like you more and more. Come on, everyone else is already here.”
The doorway leads straight into the crowded living room. You recognize Seungcheol, a woman his same height tucked into his side as they chat with Lydia on the couch. Coincidentally, she lives two floors above Seungkwan and Vernon and was thrilled to discover mailroom guy had a name and good taste in music.
You quickly scan beneath the couch for any full grown men and are mildly disappointed to find none.
Seokmin gets caught up in ‘hellos’ while you pad down the hallway after Seungkwan; into the kitchen where Mingyu stirs something on the stove. Cocoa and vanilla flood your nose, the warmth of the kitchen driving away the lingering chill from outside. Seungkwan puts the wine on the counter before pulling mugs out of the cabinets.
“What’s this?” you ask.
“Spiked hot chocolate,” Mingyu says. He adds a splash of peppermint schnapps to the pot and starts stirring again before pouring two mugs: one for you and one for Seokmin. “There’s whipped cream over there.”
You’re shaking the can of whipped cream when an arm reaches over your shoulder and pulls it out of your grip.
“Just say when,” Seokmin says.
He piles a comical mountain of whipped cream into your mug, and then a matching one on his own. There are sprinkles as well as chocolate shavings and you both artfully decorate your drinks with handfuls of each.
“I think we have more whipped cream than hot chocolate,” you say.
“There’s no such thing as too much whipped cream.”
You both take a long sip and when he’s done you choke. He’s got whipped cream on his nose, his lips, and his cheeks.
“What?” Seokmin asks.
“You’ve got,” you laugh. “Let me help.”
He stands perfectly still as you wipe his face with a paper towel. You’ve been this close to Seokmin before but with amusement instead of nerves clouding your system, you notice details you hadn’t before. The mole of his cheek. Two. One a little more pronounced than the other. Cute.
“Alright, all done,” you announce, finally noticing the way he stares down at you softly. So much for not having any nerves. “C’mon, I wanna see if Jeonghan is hiding under the couch before we leave.”
You lead him out of the kitchen, looking for anyway to cut the tension—
“KISS!” Lydia demands.
You scan the room for who she’s screaming at in an apartment full of strangers only to find her finger pointed straight above your head.
Mistletoe.
Mingyu barrels out of the kitchen to join in on the chaos.
“Kiss! Kiss! Kiss!” they all chant. Soonyoung cups his hands around his mouth and belts it loud enough your heart lurches.
“We don’t have to,” Seokmin whispers, cheeks and ears bright red.
“It’s fine.”
You plan for a quick peck on the cheek but Seokmin goes for his left while you go for your left and you’re not kissing but something dangerously close to it. The sticky residue of sugar and chocolate registers against your lips, a little bit of stubble missed when he shaved this morning. Barely a second of contact, just the edge of his mouth against yours but the world spins backwards and you nearly fall over.
As fast as it happens, you both draw back, staunchly avoiding eye contact but staying pressed close.
Seokmin wraps an arm around your waist, steadying you against his check. “You okay?”
His breath skims over your lips. The temptation to roll on to your toes and kiss him for real sends your heart racing. Your chin lifts. Seokmin looks at your mouth. And…
“Who's ready to party?” Chan calls, breaking the atmosphere.
The walk to Jane’s is nothing short of hell. Snow falls in thin sheets, frigid air sneaking past the lining of your coat and straight into your bones. In the middle of the pack you aren’t as exposed thanks to Seokmin to your right, Lydia on the other side, and a gaggle of the others walking in front.
Your hand keeps accidentally brushing Seokmin’s, sending a rush of pins and needles up your arm each time. You both pretend to ignore it.
The barren street outside the bar doesn’t hint at what waits within except for the dull hum of life sneaking past the door. It feels like half the city is packed inside, forcing everyone to slither past each other because there is simply no room.
Seungkwan wasn’t lying when he said it was a neighborhood institution. A stage is set up at the far wall, drunks belting their hearts out. Your group fans out to the bar, snagging drinks before taking the pilgrimage to a small table near the stage. Seokmin keeps you close the entire time. Guiding you to a seat, insisting on standing right behind the chair and talking to his friends over your shoulder.
You sag in your seat, content to soak in everyone else's conversations. The edge of your mouth still burns from the contact of the kiss, the same sensation everywhere Seokmin touches. You crave more. Like a sunflower searching for the sun. You lean against the back of the chair for a chance to feel his chest against your back. He doesn’t shy away when you do either. You can’t see his face but Lydia sits across the table watching with a pleased smirk.
“A toast,” Seokmin starts as the song fades and the next group to the stage. Someone wrangled a tray of red and green shots to the table and Seungkwan passes them around. “To Y/N. We wouldn’t have a show without her.”
“Yes, you would,” you correct.
“But we wouldn’t have new costumes,” says Seungkwan. “Do you know how old the costumes we were gonna wear are?”
“And we have new sets. We haven’t bought a new set piece in like fifty years,” Chan interjects.
Soonyoung speaks up next. “And I got a date!”
Seokmin slings an arm over your shoulder, squeezing you into his side. “You’re a miracle worker.”
Cheeks hot, you hide your smile at the bottom of the shot glass.
Focus shifts as Soonyoung, Seokmin, and Seungkwan take the stage for “No Scrubs” the entire bar signs along to. They’re born performers. Soaking in every minute of attention, riling the crowd up until your ears go numb.
You try not to think of the almost kiss but it’s hopeless. Two drinks down and the only thing on your mind is the eclectic feeling on his mouth on your skin.
You’re so deep in your thoughts, you don’t notice Seokmin has come back to the table with a new drink for you until he’s nudging your shoulder with his.
“How do you like it?”
“Way better than the depression playlist,” you joke.
“Celine Dion is a classic.”
“Yeah, but after the first five times she loses her edge.”
Seokmin shakes his head in mock disappointment. “Blasphemy.”
Vernon and Seungkwan are singing Crazy in Love. Or, Seungkwan is singing and Vernon is head banging to the beat. Just watching makes your neck hurt.
Someone bumps into you from behind, sending you reeling straight into Seokmin’s chest.
“Woah, you okay?”
You nod into his chest but don’t let go.
The shots earlier were a mistake. Seokmin looks good under the neon lights of the bar, better with the swirly haze of alcohol. You want to kiss him so bad it’s embarrassing.
“Wanna get out of here?” he asks, voice husky.
When you look up at him, something dances across his face. There and gone before you can figure out what it is. Home sounds like a great idea. Better to lock yourself in your apartment where your mind can run wild before you do something stupid – like drag Seokmin into a corner to make out – in front of all your new friends.
You step out of his grip. “I can get home on my own. You don’t have to come with me.”
“I’m good to go. Promise.”
Not willing to brave a thirty minute walk home in the snow, Seokmin orders an Uber while you say goodbye.
Once outside, Seokmin wraps his arm back around you. Away from prying eyes, you let yourself indulge with the excuse of sharing body heat. Friends share body heat all the time. There is nothing wrong with a platonic penguin huddle.
Too soon, he pulls away as a car pulls up to the curb. “This is us.”
Seokmin makes conversation with the driver while you stare out the window as the city whips by. He’s just being nice, treating you the same way he would all his friends. Touching and almost kissing aside, Seokmin is your friend and you don’t want to jeopardize it with complications.
“YN?”
“Huh?’
“We’re home.”
You stumble through the cold, Seokmin hot on your heels through the lobby and into the elevator. It’s a fragile type of silence between you.
“I’ll see you later?”
“Night,” Seokmin says.
“Goodnight, Seok,” you murmur back, pushing open your door.
“Fuck,” he curses. “I left my keys at Kwan’s.”
“Should we call them?”
You invite Seokmin into your apartment while he tries to get ahold of his friends. Shinx offers timid emotional support by curling up in his lap, purring loudly as scratches under her chin. Now you’re jealous of a cat.
How dmbarrassing.
Calling proves futile. Seungkwan’s phone goes straight to voicemail and Vernon doesn’t answer either. He tries texting them with the same results.
“You can sleep on the couch,” you offer.
“Are you sure? I don’t wanna impose.”
“I won’t be able to sleep knowing you’re sitting in the hall all night,” you say. “Let me get you a blanket.”
In your room, you quickly change out of your bar clothes and into pajamas. It takes some time to dig out a pair of sweats and a tshirt that’ll fit Seokmin but you eventually find something for him. Snagging a pillow from your bed and an extra blanket from the linen closet. you head into the living room.
You force the clothes into his chest. “Here. Get changed and I’ll make your bed.”
A dark look glazes his face and for a second you think he might kiss you. Or you hope he’s thinking about it half as much as you are. But the moment passes. He locks himself in your room while you busy making the lumpy, itchy couch somewhat comfortable for him.
“Wanna watch a movie?”
You settle on Krampus. Neither of you have seen it but even after tonight you doubt you’d be able to recall a single detail. Seokmin pulls your legs over his lap like second nature, covering you both in the blanket, his hands resting on your shin. Choosing shorts over pants was a mistake. The heat of his thigh against the back of yours makes you squirm. The calluses on his palms scratch an itch leading straight between your legs as he rubs up and down absentmindedly, never trailing higher than your knee.
You’re shaking. His hand squeezes and you nearly heave.
“Cold?”
No.
But you nod anyway.
Seokmin pulls another blanket off the back of the couch, carefully layering it over the first, tucking you in tight before putting his arms back over your legs.
“You know, you’re a really good guy, Seok.”
“Thanks.”
It’s shameful. How bad you want to kiss him, for him to kiss you.
“I mean it.”
“I don’t know if it's true though.”
Instead of asking what he means, you lean closer. Then Seokmin does too. You’re too busy staring at his mouth to notice him doing the same. All your thoughts hone in on if he was as good a kisser as you imagined. And if you kissed him right now, would he kiss you back? If you touched him, would he touch you too?
Someone moves first. It doesn’t matter who because his nose nudges against yours, then you're swallowing his sigh, and you both practically melt at the relief.
It’s better than anything you could have cooked up in your head. His lips are soft, the rough pads of his fingers gentle as he tips your chin. You like it. You like him.
Your lips catch on his bottom lip by accident but it's the first domino to topple into a chain reaction. Seokmin’s lips part, your hands bury in his hair. His thumb hones in on the strip of skin between your top and your shorts. You maneuver into his lap, fingers cataloguing the expanse of his shoulders, his neck. Back into his hair. Close as you are, it isn’t close enough. You arch into him, dragging your lips across the line of his throat when his head falls back.
His hands are everywhere. The small of your waist, the base of your spine, lifting your shirt until it’s tossed to the floor and your topless in his lap, shaking with anticipation.
“Fuck,” he mumbles. His eyes lock on your nipples, tight from just a few light touches.
Seokmin pulls you back down, kissing you slow and heavy while his hands touch you with gentle reverence.
Clothes come off. The borrowed sweater he’s wearing reveals so much skin you don’t know where to start. But Seokmin doesn’t let you linger too long because he’s taking off your bottoms until you’re completely naked. Seokmin eases his body over yours, heavy between your thighs.
A particularly harsh pass of his hips pulls a wire down your spine, back arching painfully, moaning at the ceiling.
“Ha,” you waver under his teeth, his tongue worshiping your chest, leaving broad strokes you imagine will feel amazing on other parts of your body. Head tipped back, you display yourself openly for him to touch and tease.
“Take your pants off,” you beg.
“I don’t have a condom.”
“Oh.”
“It’s okay,” he says, mouthing against the sensitive spot below your jaw. His smile is clear. “We don’t have to do anything.”
You make a sound between a whine and a grunt. You want to have sex with him. Right here, on your shitty couch. But you aren’t willing to take the risk, no matter how badly you want it. Even if he does have a weird dick which you doubt based on the feeling of it against your naked cunt.
“You think my dick is weird?” he asks, half shocked and half amused.
“No! I—” you scramble. “I don’t think your dick is weird.”
“But you’ve thought about my dick?”
“I’m not supposed to.”
Seokmin grins, clearly amused. “Why not?”
“Because you’re my neighbor.”
“Oh.” He rushes to rise off you, kneeling between your spread legs. “If you don’t want to, it’s okay.”
“I do want to. That's the problem,” you whine.
He hums in acknowledgment, body shaking with barely suppressed giggles.
You thrash. “Don’t be mean.”
“I’m not, I've just…never had someone be so eager.”
He kisses you like he’s the eager one, tongue tracing your bottom lip until you welcome him in with a lewd suck. It only lasts for a second before he’s back down your chest and then kneeling in front of the couch, nuzzling the meat of your thigh while his fingers stroke against your wetness timidly.
“Is this okay?”
“Yep!” you choke. “Great.”
Your legs verge on numbness from being bent in half for so long but Seokmin keeps finding those spots that make it worth it. You need something to hold onto; his hair, the cushions, your own breasts. Seokmin seems to love that the most. Grunting into your pussy as he watches with reverence as you play with yourself.
“Taste so good,” he rasps. “You’re so hot.”
Fingers thrusting, Seokmin strings you out. When he crooks the digits buried deep inside you, your back breaks in half. The hand pinning your waist down holds tights, the lean muscles flexing in your view.
“J-just like that,” you hiccup.
He never falters. Seokmin does exactly as you ask until you curl and come wet and hot on his face with a cry. It’s not until you push him off that he stops completely, rubbing the mess of his fingers on his pants and crowding you back into the couch cushion to taste yourself off his tongue.
You moan against his mouth. “Wanna taste you.”
“I’m good.”
“I want to,” you beg.
“No like—”
You paw at his crotch only for the enticing hardness to be absent. He’s soft. Confusion furrows your brows for a brief second until the rosy tint to his cheeks registers.
Seokmin hides in the crook of your neck, sigh ruffling your hair as he gets cozy in the warm space and allows his nose to trace the curve of your shoulder. “It usually doesn’t happen like that. I don’t—”
“That's so hot,” you mumble. The heat of his body combined with an orgasm and the last bit of your blood lulls you closer to sleep with every second.
Seokmin tugs your shirt back over your head before pulling you close, his bare chest against your back, legs tangled beneath a quilt. Pure content tickles across your senses, followed by the warm drag of sleep.
Seokmin is gone by the time you wake up.
Shuffling from the couch into the bedroom, you accept he probably left early to get his keys from Seungkwan and didn’t want to wake you. Your head pounds in time with your pulse, stomach turning at the thought of getting off the couch. Thank God he didn’t try to wake you. There’s nothing less attractive than wanting to lay on the floor and wait for the sweet release of death.
The second time you wake up is to the sound of Shinx shredding a scrap of paper at the foot of your bed.
“You bastard,” you groan.
A set of large eyes stares back at you for a moment, before she meows and gets back to work on her kill. You nudge her off the edge of the bed with your foot. She bolts for the living room while you hide back into the pillows until it’s dark outside once again.
When you start feeling human enough to shower and eat, you check your phone. A text from Lydia and a few other notifications greet you but none from Seokmin. Not a call, or a text, or anything. Complete radio silence.
You hear him come home, the shuffle of his feet down the hallway and the slam of his front door. But there's no singing; not even so much as a hum. No knocking on the shared wall. You can’t hear a single thing from his side even when – embarrassingly – you press your ear against the wall like an eavesdropper.
It’s like that for days.
Seokmin leaves his apartment after you get home. Or when you come back from work you hear him rush to turn down his music like he wants you to believe he’s out. He’s avoiding you. And you don’t know why.
You’ve thought about trying to catch him in the act; waiting by the door and popping out to ask him what his problem is. But you’re not sure if you want the answer to that question. He probably regrets kissing you. He definitely regrets kissing you if he's acting like this. But you don’t want to rush to conclusions either. The show opens Friday night and being director requires all hands on deck. Seokmin probably doesn’t even have time to brush his teeth let alone think about whatever it is between you too. Add the fact the actor for Scrooge broke his leg just before the auction and the only person comfortable enough with the role is also directing, he’s under a lot of pressure.
But none of the reassuring thoughts get you to leave the house the night of the show.
It wasn’t as if you had to be there. You helped fundraise but you weren’t cast or crew so your attendance was optional, even if there were two tickets waiting for you at willcall. Missed calls and texts rack up on your phone screen. Lydia, Seungkwan, Chan… But none from Seokmin. You should have turned your phone off to avoid the fall out from ditching.
Instead, you accidentally pick up Lydia’s call.
“Where are you?” Lydia screeches through the speaker. “The show's about to start.”
“I’m…I’m sick.”
You even fake cough but Lydia doesn’t buy it for a second.
“Seriously?”
“What?”
“Get your ass down here or I swear to god I’ll drag you by your hair.”
“Why would I go? He hasn’t talked to me all week?”
“So? Who cares!” she huffs, “You worked really hard to make sure this all got done. They wouldn’t have costumes or a set without everything you did. Forget Seokmin, come see it for yourself.”
“I—”
“Listen. Whatever happened between you two happened. But don’t let that chase you away from this. We can plot revenge tomorrow but tonight you should celebrate how hard you worked to make this happen.”
“Alright.”
You race to dress somewhat appropriately. Sweater, leggings, and a nice coat are all you can manage if you want to make it before intermission ends. It’s a miracle you’re not pulled over for speeding or running through yellow lights at the last minute but you get downtown in record time.
The street outside the theater is quiet, fog rising from the damp pavement. Through the glass doors into the theater, people mill about. You missed the first half of the show but there’s still time.
Lydia waits on the steps, exhaling a foggy breath when she finds you. “Thank god.”
“How's it so far?”
“Good. I can’t believe I’ve never come to one of these before.” She types furiously on her phone before locking it and tossing it back into her purse. “The costumes look so good.”
The theater is packed to the brim, the lobby practically bursting at the seams as people chat through intermission. The costumes look better than good and so do the sets. Seokmin plays a more than convincing Scrooge, even better than the ones you’ve seen in the million movie versions of the play you’ve watched together. There’s no way he can see you with the bright stage lights but more than once it feels like he’s staring right where you sit, looking for someone. Looking for you.
Your eyes remain glued to the stage, unable to blink just in case you miss a second. It's dizzying watching him perform, as if you're staring up at the sky for too long and starting to feel unmoored; like you can't look away, can't accept that something so captivating exists.
After another hour, the lights go up, the cast take their bows. Without warning, you’re blinking into a harsh spotlight.
“Stand up,” Lydia whispers, prodding your side.
“What the hell is going on?”
“This production wouldn’t have been possible without Y/N. We’re so thankful for someone like her.”
You smile awkwardly and wait for the clapping to die down as the spotlight moves back to the stage. The second it's over, you’re up the aisle and into the lobby.
Straight into Seungkwan, who is subtly guarding the door like he knew you’d run at the first chance.
“You’re coming to the after party, right?” he asks.
Other people start filtering in from the auditorium. Maybe, you can lose him in the chaos and go home.
“Of course she is,” Lydia interjects. Her arm weaves through yours, a firm threat that she’ll drag you if she has to.
The after party is for cast and crew of legal drinking age at Jane’s. Lydia and Seungkwan ride with you, another silent threat looming in the air. They chat the entire way, undeterred by your silence. It's nice having friends that care but all you want is to hide under a blanket on your couch and spend the rest of the night crying while Shinx watches you with unveiled disgust.
Outside the bar, you promise one drink, claiming that you really are sick and want to go home. Which might be true. You’re off kilter, head spinning, stomach twisted into untangleable knots. But that might be because you can hear Seokmin’s laugh as you enter and your muscles twitch to dive beneath a table until he leaves.
You manage to find a stool in the corner. Even in an attempt to remain unseen more than half the bar stops by to thank you; crew members you haven’t met or cast you’ve seen in passing. Lydia stays by your side throughout, a steady presence as you lose yourself in the party. You can almost forget who is floating around the outskirts of the bar like a ghost.
“Vernon sent me to ask if you want to play pool,” Seungkwan says to Lydia.
She sends you a sideways glance. Not asking for permission but like you’re a kid she can’t leave alone.
“Go,” you say, brushing her away. “I’ll be fine.”
“Don’t leave without telling me.”
“I’m leaving right now,” you tell her.
“Fine,” she sighs. Then she pulls you into a hug. Lydia isn’t a hugger, in the years you’ve known her you can count on your fingers the number of times it’s happened. “But you should clear the air before you go.”
“I live next to him. There are plenty of opportunities.”
She gives you an extra squeeze, fully aware you’ll continue pretending he doesn’t exist until everything smooths over and you and Seokmin are back to neighbors who tolerate each other's existence in fragile silence.
Which would work if the second you turn around to leave you don’t run straight into him.
He rubs the side of his head. “Hi.”
“Hi,” you say. “Can we talk?”
He nods before turning to leave the bar, not waiting to see if you follow but you do.
The party inside the bar echoes out onto the snowy street. It seems no one else is crazy enough to have an overdue conversation in a snowstorm, but better here than anywhere else. At least after Seokmin lets you down, you can run back to your apartment and pretend he doesn’t exist anymore.
Seokmin stands a few paces away, barely illuminated in neon signs and string lights strewn across the street. You aren’t drunk, not even tipsy. Alcohol would make this conversation worse but it’d take the edge off your nerves and dull a little bit of the cold.
You shove both hands in your pockets, unsure what to say now that you have him all alone.
“The play was good.”
“Thanks. Next time you’ll have to see the first act.”
It comes out like a joke but you can feel the vitriol like a bucket of ice water. Ouch.
“I—”
“If you’re not over your ex it’s okay,” he winces. “We can stay friends.”
“What? What are you talking about?”
“Sam. You still have feelings for him. It’s fine if you do, I get it. I’m not mad or anything I just thought…”
“I am over Sam.”
“Well, congrats on getting over him I guess,” Seokmin shrugs but his grin is forced. “Is that all you wanted to talk about?”
“Are you serious?” you scoff, venom stinging the tip of your tongue.
His face glazes with annoyance. “What else is there?”
“Why did you leave?”
“I had work.”
You want to smack to frown off his face.
“But you didn’t text me or leave a note. I woke up and you were gone and then didn’t hear anything from you.”
“I did leave a note. You iced me out,” he argues.
“Where? Because from where I’m standing you left as soon as you could and then ignored me like it never happened.”
“My phone died so I left a note on the counter. And you never texted me or anything so I thought you were trying to let me down easy.”
He left you a note. The shredded paper on your bed…
“Oh my god,” you gasp, ire evaporating. “Shinx.”
“Your cat?”
Laughter bubbles out of your throat, so thick you choke on your next words. “I think she ate your note.”
The realization hangs in the air, Seokmin froze as your words sink in. He stares at you for a moment, still recovering from the absurdity of it all, before he finally exhales a long breath.
“I thought she liked me,” he whines, face lit up with the beginning of a smile.
“Shinx is loyal to no one.”
His body meets yours, like cards precariously leaned against one another to prevent a topple as you both shake with laughter. The cold of the street disappears in the warmth of his touch.
“You’re not that kind of guy. I know that. I shouldn’t have—”
“I could’ve texted you after I went to Kwan’s,” he interjects.
“I could’ve called you.”
Seokmin’s gaze roams across your face. “How about we start over?”
“I’d like that,” you smile, closing the scant amount of space left between your bodies.
“Me too.”
Your lips brush against his, the faintest contact sending a storm of butterflies through your stomach. You’re both smiling too much for it to count as a real kiss but neither of you seem to care. His hand slips around the back of your neck, holding you closer just for a moment longer.
Seokmin convinces you to stay at the bar for a few more hours. He holds your hand, keeps you under his arm, looks at you after each joke to make sure you’re laughing too. Seokmin is nothing like Sam. You’ve known that all along but the fear lingered and you refused to acknowledge it. He’s someone you actually could fall for if you let yourself.
He might hurt you but the potential for something great outweighs the bad in spades.
As the night drags on, you end up closer; sitting on his laps, his hands protectively wrapped around your waist. His chin hooks over your shoulder and you lean back against him. The slow burn between you roars to a boil when you trace mindless shapes against his palm, Seokmin’s breath shaky in his chest.
“Ready to go home?” he whispers huskily. His breath rushes down your neck, goosebumps bloom in its wake.
You shift closer – the seam of your jeans only further worsening your arousal – and nod.
Once outside, you’re tangled in each other once again, limbs indecipherable. The sudden chill of midnight air has you turning back into his chest, the arm previously on your back curling low on your waist. Seokmin orders an Uber and immediately focuses back on you the second he can. You catch a text on his screen before he can lock his phone. Seokmin holds you the same as before but it’s different this time. You’re both waiting for the damn to break and the flood to wash away whatever tension lingers between you.
[10:56PM] Mr. Boo: do not fuck this up
[10:56PM] Mr. Boo: lydia said she would kill you and i think she’s serious
The cab ride home is a blur. You’re focused on not scandalizing the drive while Seokmin keeps a hand firmly on your knee, perfectly proper if it wasn’t for the grit in his jaw when you return the touch just high enough for your pinky to graze his zipper.
The second the car stops, you throw the door open and pull Seokmin out and inside the lobby, straight to the elevator where he grabs your waist and uses the leverage to kiss you with so much heat you sweat.
He tries pressing you into the wall but you beat him to the punch, crowding him into the corner, front flush with him from head to toe. Seokmin groans, pushing back as you grind over his thigh. One of you pushes the button to your floor.
When the doors open, he gains the upper hand. Tugging you down the hall, he bypasses your door and goes straight for his own. He fumbles with the keys from the way you suck at his pulse but after a few tries he succeeds, pulling you inside and pressing you into the wall of the hallway.
“I like you,” he admits, rushing to unzip your coat and stuff his freezing hands inside, curling them against your waist. “This isn’t just sex.”
You nod dumbly. “I know. I like you, too.”
“And we should – hmmm – go on a date sometime.”
“Okay,” you rasp.
His thigh slots back between yours. All those memories of his mouth and fingers rush to the forefront, teasing you with the fantasy of Seokmin on his knees right here, eating you out next to his front door.
He presses hard against your core, fingers tracing the seam of your pants. Your hands reach beneath his shirt; pulling, squeezing. Nails digging into his tense stomach with each bump against your covered clit.
“Seokmin,” you whimper.
You're pulled off the wall. A trail of clothing is left in your wake to his room. Hats, coats, sweaters, undershirts. Seokmin manages to keep his pants on but allows you to unbutton them for a weak handjob over his briefs.
“God,” he exhales close to your ear.
In all the nights you two have hung out you’ve never been in his room. You try to take in as many details as possible but Seokmin dedicates himself to driving you insane with his lips on your neck, gently nipping and sucking until you shiver.
If you had any foresight this was going to happen then you would have at least picked matching underwear. But he seems thrilled as he crowds you into the bed.
His mouth replaces his hand, lapping at your nipple, completely disregarding the fabric of your bra, before sucking it into his mouth. The hand that was on your chest dips beneath your panties. Fingertips circle your clit, gliding through the wet mess, dipping shallowly inside you.
Your hips rut into the touch. You want more. Need more. And you know Seokmin can give you what you need.
You guide his mouth to your neglected nipple, pushing the cup out of the way and arching as he gives it the same attention. “Please.”
“I got you,” he promises.
Seokmin melts down between your legs, kneeling at the side of the bed; one on his shoulder, the other pressed up your chest. Your hands bury in his hair as he licks a long strip up your core. Each pathetic sound fleeing your lips is rewarded with a deeper curl of his fingers, a harsher lap of his tongue. He leaves wet kisses on your thighs, spreading the mess of arousal and spit before diving back.
You squeeze tight on his fingers. “O-oh, oh fuck.”
Your hips stutter into his mouth. It washes over you, muscles clenched so hard it hurts. The way your heels dig into his back must hurt too but you don’t care. Neither does Seokmin. He doesn’t stop as you claw at him, following that inferno scorching through every tissue, begging him to keep going until you wilt into the sheets.
The ceiling comes slowly into focus, dots floating across your vision. You’re sweating despite the chill hanging in the air. Thankfully, Seokmin blankets you in his heat as he kisses across your hips, then your sternum, then buries his face into your neck. Your shivers have nothing to do with the cold.
“Wow,” you pant.
Seokmin’s face cracks into a tired grin. Fatigue ghosts over the room but you're not done yet. The weight of his cock between your legs demands attention, and you’re all too eager to touch him.
He doesn’t object when you push him onto his back, or to the trail of soft kisses down his front, allowing you to mark up the smooth expanse of his chest and belly how you see fit. You savor the warmth of his body with each touch. Allow your fingers to gently wash away each press of your lips and warm him up for what's to come.
You suck the head of his cock through the fabric, teasing him with your tongue until the taste of pre-cum floods your mouth.
He sinks into the bed. A hand finds its way into your hair, unsure if he wants to pull you off or sink deeper into the heat of your mouth, even if it is just a tease. You tug his underwear out of the way and continue torturing him. Thrilled by the way his stomach tense with each desperate whine from the way your tongue traces every ridge.
He gently guides you back and forth, taking the strain off your neck as you take more and more before he pulls you off. “Wait, shit.”
“What–”
“I was gonna come,” Seokmin explains, pulling you up his chest to drop placating kisses against your chin.
“That’s okay,” you smile. “I want you to.”
“But I want to fuck you.”
“Next time?”
“Fuck yes, next time,” he pants as he rolls you on to your back.
He keeps his mouth on yours, tongue sliding hotly against your own while blindly searching for a condom in the bedside table.
Your hips angle and so do his, a little wiggle and then he’s inside you and it ruins your life. Just the first inch seals your eyes shut, vision filled with stars. You can feel everything; full in a way you’ve never felt before.
Seokmin draws back timidly, allowing you both to watch the way your body takes him so easily.
Somehow he manages to rock deeper, stretch you at just the right angle. Surges right into that spot that curls your chest tight with rough fluidity. The muscles in your thighs are at war with whether to spread wider or squeeze around his waist.
“I wanna ride you.”
There are so many things you want to do with him. To him. But you start with this, taking command of his lap, sinking back on his dick with another tight stretch; glowing as Seokmin watches slack-jawed.
“God, you’re perfect,” he praises.
You fuck yourself on him, knees digging into the mattress as you grind back and forth and all Seokmin can do is watch. A loose grip on your hips as his face glazes over. Your thighs cramp but the way he looks against the pillows, hazy around the edges, hair flat at one side and wild on the other, encourages you to finish what you started.
“Touch me,” you beg.
His neck goes red, ears too, when his hand wedges back between your thighs. “Wanna see you come again. Fuck, you’re so pretty when you come for me.”
Your hips cant wildly, stuttering under his free flowing praise. Too full, too much. You nearly scramble off his lap to snatch at your sanity drifting away.
He kisses you gently, sweet praise ghosting over your lips. “That’s it. Just like that.”
You’re not even moving. Seokmin works your clit raw, fucks up into you with limited motion as you choke on another orgasm that leaves you wet at the eyes and the room spinning.
“U-ugh. Fuck,” you shiver, collapsing into his chest.
“Can,” he chokes. “Can I—”
An imperceivable dip of your chin and Seokmin rolls you back over and flattens your thighs open; hard rushes of his hips, stomach taunt.
“Come for me. Want you to come inside me,” you sigh.
“Shit, shit, shit,” he chants as he shakes beneath your hands before slumping over.
You rebound faster than Seokmin; he’s almost snoring against your chest as you rake a hand through the tangled mess of his hair, melting under the weight on your lips against his hairline.
“You’re pretty when you come, too,” you tease.
He swats your hand away, rising off you to dispose of the condom in the bathroom before rushing back into bed to clean you with a washcloth. When he’s done, he throws it into some forgotten corner of the room where the rest of your clothes hide and dives under the covers with you in tow.
Your limbs lace with his, all nude skin on skin.
“I would like to take you out for real sometime,” Seokmin whispers.
“Good thing I have a four hundred dollar date to cash in on.”
“You know,” he smiles into your cheek. “You could have asked me for free.”
“Yeah, but where’s the fun in that?”
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The Littlest Surprise » Daniel Ricciardo
caption: hello im a new f1 content creator and would love some feedback if you enjoy my fics tysm 🩷
summary: you’ve not been seen at the paddock for a while and the fans are getting worried, little do they know the reason for your absence is about to make everyone’s dreams come true
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liked by schecoperez, georgerussell63 and 842,420 others
danielricciardo: always a pleasure to have the fam on my side, excited to show the little ones what uncle danny gets up to 🥺
49,302 comments
username1: is this yet another race y/n won’t be at this weekend??
username2: I cannot wait for the day that this man becomes a dad
username3: if y/n doesn’t hurry up and make him a dad…daniel i’m happy to offer my services 😊
maxverstappen1: how big is y/n/n now! she looks so grown up 🥺
danielricciardo: @/maxverstappen1 she’ll be 6 soon, where does the time go??
oscarpiastri: don’t forget your little adopted aussie nephew
landonorris: and your british nephew too!!
danielricciardo: @/oscarpiastri @/landonorris hey! i might be a bit older but not old enough to be your uncle thank you
username4: anyone else think something might be going on, daniel posting about his family without y/n there is strange
username5: @/username4 let’s not overthink this too much, y/n might just be busy
username4: @/username5 it’s been ages since we last saw her, you gotta admit it’s a bit sus
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liked by lewishamilton, alex_albon and 629,301 others
danielricciardo: another great weekend of racing, nice feeling to be back on the podium…man how I missed hearing that champagne pop 🏎️
38,402 comments
charles_leclerc: congrats brother, nice to be up there with you once again
username6: y/n not distracting you anymore to stop you getting on the podium??
username7: @/username6 wtf? why would you suggest such a thing?
carlossainz55: always knew you’d be back up there one day, long may it continue!
yukitsunoda0511: you gotta give me some tips bro, those manoeuvres were lethal today 🔥
pierregasly: danny ric just doing danny ric things
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liked by ynusername, charles_leclerc and 922,547 others
danielricciardo: hey team! just wanted to clear up some things after miami this weekend…me and y/n are absolutely fine, had some things going on that I promise we’ll explain soon ❤️❤️ for now tho, here’s an update on life recently ☁️✨
92,174 comments
ynusername: 🥺🥺🥺🥺
username8: I knew you guys would be okay, take as long as you need my two favourites!!
username9: a big screw you to those who doubted you…real fans love you guys
landonorris: I love you guys, here if you need anything brother ❤️
username10: hope whatever is going on clears up soon, we’re missing you guys around here🩷
lilymhe: tell y/n to gimme a call! ily guys ✨
visacashapprb: can’t wait to welcome y/n back into the paddock soon - see you for race week!
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liked by danielricciardo, iamrebeccad and 310,409 others
ynusername: it’s been a long few months, but we finally feel ready to share with you our happy news. pregnancy has been tough, I’d love to say it has treated me well, but it hasn’t. I cannot thank daniel enough for being by my side and helping me out whenever I’ve needed him…baby spam incoming ⛅️🍼
ps. each of us chose a picture to share, guess who chose what 🙄
28,461 comments
danielricciardo: words cannot begin to describe how proud I am of how brave you’ve been, the worst of it is over now my love, the countdown to baby ricciardo starts now
danielricciardo: ps my photo is way cooler than yours is
landonorris: omg I can’t believe you guys didn’t tell me, uncle Lando reporting for duty!
carlossainz55: the biggest congratulations you two, you’re going to be the best parents
carmenmmundt: so glad to hear y/n is doing better, may the rest of your pregnancy be a dream ✨
lilymhe: the strongest girl I know - so excited to see you become a mum 😍
username11: all my manifesting has paid off, baby ricciardo will be the luckiest
oscarpiastri: AUSSIE AUSSIE AUSSIE!!
estebanocon: my spidey senses were spot on, I knew a baby was on the way!
˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚*
liked by danielricciardo, lance_stroll and 102,585 others
ynusername: life lately 💫 exhausted but loving all the little things (including daniel 😂)
17,492 comments
username12: y/n looks like she’s living the dream, mum life suits her well 🥺
danielricciardo: im definitely not a “little thing” how else did we end up like this?
landonorris: @/danielricciardo excuse me sir you are about to have a child, sort your humour out
maxverstappen1: glad to see you’re feeling more like yourself again y/n, brunch on me soon!
ynusername: @/maxverstappen1 yes - let’s not tell daniel #gatecrasher
danielricciardo: @/ynusername you know your comments are public…right?
username13: anyone else wishing they could brunch with y/n too??
lance_stroll: sending all the good book recs your way!
˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚*
liked by landonorris, oscarpiastri and 738,603 others
danielricciardo: babymooning 🍼 the smile says it all, so happy to have my girl back on her feet and feeling like herself again…making the last few memories just the two of us 🥺
83,500 comments
ynusername: thank you for the best couple of days and being my personal taxi driver
username14: look at his face - you can tell daniel is buzzing to be a dad
pierregasly: where was my invite?? I thought we were friends
carlossainz55: and mine!
georgerussell63: me too!
landonorris: looks like we were all forgotten!
visacashapprb: enjoy the break daniel! you and y/n absolutely deserve it 🏁🩷
username15: i speak for all your fans when i say keep the holiday photos coming pls
˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚*
liked by ynusername, georgerussell63 and 920,355 others
danielricciardo: mum and dad 🔥🥺
tagged: ynusername
58,429 comments
landonorris: adopt me pls, im less problematic than a baby
danielricciardo: @/landonorris debatable
lewishamilton: so glad to see you both so happy, good luck with everything
charles_leclerc: wow!! y/n looks insane (suppose you look alright too daniel!)
ynusername: mum and dad?? i can definitely get used to hearing that 🤩
alex_albon: it’s not fair how adorable you two are, this kid is hella lucky!!
username16: pls keep the baby spam coming, you guys are the sweetest 🍼💫
˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚*
liked by lilymhe, yukitsunoda0511 and 109,446 others
ynusername: the many faces of a man who has just remembered he’s just signed up for no sleep for the next 10 years 😂
tagged: danielricciardo
23,201 comments
danielricciardo: after all I’ve done for you, this is how you repay me? you just wait my love 🫢
ynusername: @/danielricciardo this was too good of an opportunity to miss
carlossainz55: make the most of that middle photo whilst you can danny
georgerussell63: you have NO idea how much I just laughed at this y/n 😂😂😂
schecoperez: speaking from experience, you could not be more correct y/n #dannynosleep
username17: embarrassing dad before even becoming a dad 😬
oscarpiastri: call me for anymore embarrassing daniel pics 😂
danielricciardo: @/oscarpiastri no one asked for you to show up here
username18: I just want you to be my mum and dad instead 😭
˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚*
liked by oscarpiastri, carmenmmundt and 113,999 others
ynusername: can you believe this man is really about to become a father?? 🤦🏻♀️
32,694 comments
charles_leclerc: sometimes i really do wonder what you see in him y/n
landonorris: the biggest clown known to man, still the world’s biggest kid 😂😂
danielricciardo: is that really how you want to talk about the father of your child? I thought you were supposed to love me
ynusername: @/danielricciardo i do, ily very much 🥰
username17: not y/n releasing all the humiliating photos of daniel now they’re about to be parents
username18: y/n’s clearing the phone album for baby spam and giving us daniel spam in return
logansargeant: more to the point, this is the guy you chose as the father of your child??
lilymhe: the two of you are perfect for each other y/n ❤️
˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚*
liked by ynusername, oscarpiastri and 1,403,407 others
danielricciardo: welcome to the world baby ricciardo 💕
after a lot of hardships and tricky times, y/n and i are beyond excited to share with you that our little one is here. everyone is safe, loved and doing well, my heart has never felt so full 🥺
tagged: ynusername
˗ˏˋ 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 ! ´ˎ˗
#f1#f1 imagine#formula 1#formula 1 x reader#f1 fanfic#f1 reaction#formula 1 fanfic#f1 smau#f1 x reader#f1 fic#formula 1 smau#formula 1 x you#formula 1 social media#formula 1 imagine#formula one#daniel ricciardo#daniel ricciardo imagine#daniel ricciardo x you#daniel ricciardo x reader
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Hello, I hope you're well, if you write for mass you can do a story where you date Alexia or Jenni's sister, and they don't take kindly to the relationship you have together
Captain’s little sister // Alexia Putellas x reader
The first time you met Alba you were smitten. It was at a post-match dinner in Barcelona after the team's Copa de la Reina final win. As the newest addition to the squad, this was your first trophy win so it was pretty special.
Alba wasn’t like her sister. She was quieter, with a love for teaching that made her world apart from the football-dominated universe that you and Alexia inhabited. Both your and Alba’s eyes met for a second from across the room and for a brief moment, the noise of the bustling restaurant faded into the background.
“Y/N, this is my sister, Alba,” Alexia proudly introduced. “She’s studying teaching at the University of Barcelona.”
“Nice to meet you.” You had said, your voice faltering slightly under the intensity of Alba’s gaze.
Over the following months, you found yourself increasingly drawn closer to Alba. It started innocently: a few shared conversations post match when playing at home, a coffee even now and again when Alexia was busy. Alba, for her part, was equally captivated. She admired your dedication to being the best for Barça and for the Lionesses on the international stage.
The first time they kissed, it was after a late-night walk along the Barcelona beachfront. The lights of the city reflected off the water as Alba leaned in, her expression nervous but determined. You didn’t pull away. In that moment, all that mattered was Alba’s hand on your waist pulling you closer and the unspoken connection you both shared.
The relationship was hidden for a while. It wasn’t out of shame, but out of caution. You knew how protective Alexia was of Alba. You had seen it firsthand in how Alexia watched over her sister, ensuring she stayed out of the public eye and away from unnecessary scrutiny.
Hiding their relationship meant dodging questions and sneaking around, which became increasingly difficult as Alba started attending more matches. You could feel Alexia’s eyes on you during team dinners and training sessions, her gaze sharp and questioning.
One night after training, Alexia questions her suspicions. “You’ve been spending a lot of time with Alba.”
“She’s great company,” You replied, trying to keep your voice steady.
Alexia nodded slowly, her expression unreadable. “ Just remember - she’s my little sister. Be careful with her.”
You nodded, but your heart ached at the unspoken implications.
The truth unraveled during international break. Reader had flown back to England to represent the Lionesses in a few friendlies, while Alexia was with the Spanish national team. Alba, missing you, had posted a photo on her instagram story with the caption missing her a little bit more today :( - a candid photo of you walking in front of Alba on the beach. It was meant to be private, shared only to Alba’s close friends, but somehow, it reached Alexia.
The call came late at night, just as you closed your hotel room door after a game.
“What the hell is this?” Alexia’s voice was sharp, her anger palpable even through the phone.
You sighed, running a hand through your hair. “Alexia I-”
“You’re dating Alba? My sister?”
“Yes,” Reader admitted, your voice steady despite the guilt eating away at you. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner, but I care about her. A lot.”
There was a long pause before Alexia spoke again, her voice quieter but no less intense. “Do you have any idea what you’re getting into? What this could mean for her? For us as teammates?”
“I do,” You said firmly. “And I would never do anything to hurt her. Or you.”
The conversation ended without another word spoken, leaving you with a sinking feeling that things were about to get much worse.
After international break concluded, the tension between you and Alexia was impossible to ignore. On the pitch, Alexia was professional, but her passes to you were a tad too hard, her instructions clipped and cold.
Alba was caught in the middle. She tried to mediate, but Alexia’s stubbornness and your guilt made the progress slow.
“She’ll come around,” Alba reassured you as you both cuddled up on her couch. “She just needs time.”
“I hope you’re right.” You said, your voice heavy with doubt as you pull the blanket on you both.
The breaking point came during a Champions League match against Lyon. With the game tied and minutes left on the clock, a crucial miscommunication between you and Alexia led to a turnover and a Lyon goal. The defeat stung, but Alexia’s reaction stung worse.
“What were you thinking?” she snapped in the locker room afterward, her voice echoing off the walls.
You stood your ground, enough was enough. “Maybe if you weren’t so focused on punishing me for dating Alba, we wouldn’t have lost!”
The room fell silent. Alexia stared at you, her expression a mix of shock and anger. Without another word, you grabbed your bag and left.
The next day at training, the tension between you and Alexia reached a boiling point. It started with a misplaced pass. You had been open, calling for the ball, but Alexia ignored you, opting to pass to another teammate instead. You clenched your jaw, letting it go, a few hands patting your shoulder as the drill gets restarted. But then it happened again. And again.
“Alexia!” You snapped, stopping mid-drill, clearing having enough of Alexia’s actions. The other players glanced around uneasily, sensing the brewing storm. “Are you seriously going to freeze me out during training?”
Alexia turned, her expression cold. “Maybe if you focused on the game instead of my sister, we wouldn’t have lost to Lyon.”
The words hit like a punch to the gut. Reader’s chest tightened as they stared at Alexia, anger and hurt boiling over. “That’s what this is about? You can’t handle the fact that Alba and I are together,, so you’re sabotaging the team?”
Alexia’s jaw clenched, her eyes narrowing. “I’m not sabotaging anything, I just don’t trust you anymore.”
“Why? Because I’m dating Alba? Or because you can’t control this part of her life?” You shot back, voice rising.
The other players shifted uncomfortably as they looked towards their coach to step in. “That’s enough. Both of you, off the pitch. Now!”
You sat on the bench outside the training centre, waiting for Alba to pick you up since your car is getting repaired. The argument replayed in your mind, the words cutting deeper than the last. You hear a car pull up and see Alba with her gorgeous smile looking at you with worry. You wipe away tears and quickly get in her car. Alba didn’t even have to ask how your day was before you started rambling about everything that happened.
That evening, Alba stormed into Alexia’s apartment, her face flushed with anger. Alexia barely had time to process her arrival before Alba started speaking.
“What the fuck is your problem?” Alba demanded, her voice trembling. “Why can’t you just be happy for me?”
Alexia frowned, her defences immediately going up. “I’m trying to protect you.”
“From what?” Alba snapped. “From being happy? From falling in love?” Y/n isn’t some random fling, Alexia. She cares about me. She loves me.”
Alexia’s jaw tightened. “And what happens when it all goes wrong? When she leaves? Do you have any idea how hard it is to put yourself back together after someone breaks you?”
Alba’s expression softened slightly, but her voice remained firm. “I know you’re scared. I know you think you’re protecting me. But this isn’t about you. This is my life Alexia. And you’re pushing me away because you can’t let go”
Alexia closed her eyes, guilt washing over her. “I’m sorry,” she whispered. “I just…I don’t want to lose you.”
“You’re not going to lose me,” Alba said softly, sitting next to her sister. “But if you keep this up, you might lose both of us.”
The next day, Alexia approached you in the dressing room, her expression hesitant. The rest of the team had left already, leaving the two of them alone.
“I owe you an apology,” Alexia said, her voice quiet. “I’ve been unfair to you. To both of you.”
You looked at Alexia warily, unsure if this was a genuine truce or another fight waiting to happen. “Why now?”
Alexia sighed, running a hand through her hair. “Because Alba made me realise I’ve been holding onto my fears instead of trusting her. She’s happy with you, the happiest she’s been in a long time. And I don’t want to be the reason that changes.”
You nodded slowly, your shoulders relaxing for the first time in weeks. “I don’t want to come between you and Alba. I just want her to be happy. And I want us to work as a team.”
Alexia offered a small smile. “Then let’s try again. For her. For the team.”
Things didn’t change overnight, but the frost between you and Alexia began to thaw. Slowly, you both rebuilt your partnership on the pitch, learning to trust each other again.
Alba, meanwhile, was a constant source of light in your life. Her support and patience made the challenges worth it. Over time, even Alexia began to see the happiness you brought each other.
Slowly, piece by piece, they all began to rebuild what had been broken.
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InstaJock: Going Viral
**Hey! This is my entry for @occamstfs Viral Transformation Challenge. Congrats on getting 2,000 followers, and thank you for beta reading this and helping me edit it. I hope I can get to 2,000 followers myself one day! For those who are new to my stories, this does connect to the plot established in my blog, but the concept is simple enough you should be able to follow along even if you don't usually read my stuff! I hope you all enjoy!**
![Tumblr media](https://64.media.tumblr.com/2dacd2c5f24d29c58605cf65cc69b1b1/f3e2f3860fda740e-1b/s540x810/d8291082e6fec682a489d6c47df861d0eab01950.jpg)
When I talk about the InstaJock App Phenomenon – which I seem to do a lot. What is this, the 17th InstaJock related post? I need to diversify more – I usually talk about the transformation aspects and not the app itself. That’s partially because the transformation is the most interesting and hottest part, but it’s also because I haven’t been able to take a good look at the app. Even with all the protective spells and equipment I have, I can’t use a phone with InstaJock on it for very long without getting an urge to set up an account.
Until now.
With some help from the devilishly handsome (and literally devilish) Nick, I’ve been able to get my hands on some better equipment and better explore the app. I was able to spend a couple hours on it before I needed to quit, and actually got some very interesting information, mainly about how the app works post-transformation. I had always assumed that once a user got transformed into a jock, they’d ignore the app from then on unless they wanted to change someone. I was very, very wrong, not just about that but about the purpose of the app itself. It’s not just for making people into jocks: it’s for finding the best ones.
![Tumblr media](https://64.media.tumblr.com/cbf739933b9d69f76ad143bebc9c33ff/f3e2f3860fda740e-69/s540x810/3c4fa82d82d509b8c4d948afef36d638e1d40c4d.jpg)
The app generally works like any other social media app, with its members posting about their interests. It’s set up is a lot like Instagram, where pictures and videos are the main format used for posting, but what really makes it different from other social media apps is the content. You can probably guess what an app full of buff cocky jocks looks like, but I’ll confirm it for you: the app is a thirst trap paradise.
The entire app is stuffed with half naked – and sometimes fully naked – photos of buff jocks, ones of all different kinds. If you can think up a jock related stereotype, they have a full hashtag dedicated to it. Just buff jocks playing sports, flexing and making out with other hot people, for as far. I know that doesn’t sound too different from normal social media apps, as most have a healthy NSFW side, but the posts have more in common then just showing jocks. Each and every post, every one that I saw, mentioned a Master. Some were talking about how they were getting pumped up at the gym for Master, some were talking about how they loved being jocks and were so glad Master had found them, and some were literally begging for Master to notice them, often wantonly describing how they’d debase themselves and be the sluttiest jock ever, all for him. Everyone on the app would post at least once a day about this mysterious Master. It doesn’t seem to matter if the jock is a dom, a sub, a top, a bottom, in a relationship, single, gay or even straight, all of them wanted this mysterious unnamed master – so much so they seemed to completely change personalities whenever he is mentioned. It seems instaJock has an additional side effect I didn’t know about till now: complete and utter devotion to their Master.
![Tumblr media](https://64.media.tumblr.com/d3bc587f01c67cc6be70a8cb7e32c485/f3e2f3860fda740e-ac/s500x750/0761256e5ff61a6c298be9eb375793f55ffc8640.jpg)
It took me a while, and some covert interviewing of a number of jocks in their DMs, but I think I figured out what's happening. The Jocks aren’t just posting for fun, they’re competing with each other. InstaJock isn’t really a social media app, it’s a sort of ranking app. Every day the jocks log on, post a picture of themselves with a caption somehow related to their Master, and leave likes on some of the other posts, usually the ones they find hot. If a jock’s post gets enough likes though, they get what every jock wants, what all of them are trying to get. They get to Go Viral.
Going Viral on IntsaJock isn’t like going viral on a regular app. It essentially means you’ve gotten enough likes, been reposted enough times, and have become popular enough on the site… that Master has noticed you. That's what the social media part of the app is really for. It’s just a way for Master’s jocks to organize themselves so only the hottest ones show up on his feed. If he really likes you, he’ll do more than just look too. Soon that Jock will disappear from his regular life, never to be seen again, whisked away to become a part of Master’s personal harem. This entire time the app has been about one thing: creating lovestruck sex slaves for the man who created InstaJock.
Like most actual social media apps, InstaJock jumps from one thing to another, and what's viral is always changing. But there are two tags that are always trending on InstaJock. The first, and most popular, is #JockMaster, which is only ever used by this mysterious Master when he makes a post. I’ve seen his account. He never shows his face on it, but from what little of his body that makes it into the photos, he’s… enchanting. As much as I hate to admit it, seeing just a bit of that creep almost made me drool. He usually only posts a couple times a week, as opposed to the jock who posts daily, but everything he posts goes viral on the app in moments. I’ll admit, there's something about his posts that is just… hypnotic. I almost set up an account after seeing one myself, and probably would have if Nick wasn’t there to stop me.
The other tag that's always trending is… more interesting, at least to me. It’s #MastersBoyfriend. It’s another tag used only by Master, and one he uses whenever he posts a picture of one particular member of his harem.
Whenever he posts pictures… of my Uncle John.
I finally know who took my Uncle. I know who this Master is. I suspected it was him for a while, but now I’m sure. The man who made InstaJock and the man who turned my Uncle into a slutty buff himbo are one in the same. I finally have proof.
![Tumblr media](https://64.media.tumblr.com/639ed76e4c168773a7ea22192a1c384c/f3e2f3860fda740e-14/s540x810/5687d295d64f44814a404c9e760b5752fc5236c3.jpg)
So now what?
**The identity of the person behind InstaJock AND the person behind my Uncle's transformation and kidnapping has finally been revealed! Been working up to this for a long time, and I'm glad to keep this story moving forward! Hope you liked it as much as I do! Thank you to @occamstfs once again for being absolutely awesome and inspiring!**
#muscle growth tf#muscle tf#jock tf#jock transformation#jockification#nerd to jock#instajock tf#occam2000#The Master TF
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future mrs.burrow
background : one accidental post turns heads, which leads to y/n and joe coming clean to their relationship status. not without everyone speculating and judging though.
timeline: happens a few days before the nfl honors. so if you see the tweet dates are messed up ignore it.
(all pics off of pinterest. as always pretend some of these are bengals related)
note: wrote majority of this a week ago but the thread tweet and the nfl honors posts/ pictures are from this morning (feb 8th) , thought i'd give myself a break from tongue tied too.
warning: annoying tea page lmao iykyk, not proofread either
joe burrow x black reader smau
duexmoi
❤️ 550,939 💬 13,293
Liked by: e! tmz and others
duexmoi: engaged? girlfriend of cincinnati bengals quarterback joe burrow y/n y/ln mysteriously posted a engagement ring and a bouquet of flowers then deleted the post a few seconds later.
y/n is notorious for meeting the quarterback at LSU where she then followed him to cincy in the nfl.
username_1: we all saw it coming.. right?
username_2: happy for her and joe either way.
username_3: he couldve done better.
username_4: i see how she acts around him, its like she puts on a act for that money. sign a prenup joe!!
username_5: that should be me. *load more comments*
y/n_handle
📍new orleans, la
❤️ 40,293 💬 10,111
Liked by: joeyb_9
y/n_handle: bourbon street 🤍
joeyb_9: pretty photo just like the girl behind the camera username_6: we all know about the post.. username_7: are you glad to be back in your hometown? username_8: mrs burrow just come clean rn 😭 im tired of seeing these sick fangirls on my timeline..
username_9: duexmoi just lowkey exposed you *load more comments*
y/n_handle posted a story
joeyb_9
📍new orleans, louisiana
❤️ 1m 💬 423,945
Liked by: lahjay_10 jjettas2 lsufootball y/n_handle and others
joeyb_9: it's not a good award when you're nominated for it twice, but on a serious note, thank you training staff once again for helping me get back to 100. my family as a emotional support system and lastly my girlfriend for putting up with my tantrums and stupid questions while at home with me. ❤️
y/n_handle: love you so much, you deserve it all 9 🤍.
lahjay_10: well deserved.
lsufootball: louisiana's favorite son.
jjettas2: best qb out there.
bengals: same time, different award next season? *load more comments*
y/n_handle
📍new orleans, louisiana
❤️ 125,701 💬 79,999
Liked by: joeyb_9 vogue and others
y/n_handle: so proud of my baby 🥹, a year ago nobody not even me or joe even knew if he would return as the same or better than ever. but he defied all odds and some. thank you god for year 5 and onto year 6.
joeyb_9: so pretty ❤️ *hearted by author* username_10: wheres the ring??
username_11: i see the ring on her finger.
username_12: are yall dumb.. thats a ring shes had since LSU.
username_13: hottest couple at the event.
username_14: the way joe looked at her in those red carpet pictures though.. and the hand placement??? username_15: he actually needs to put a wedding ring on it, shes a keeper. *load more comments*
duexmoi
![Tumblr media](https://64.media.tumblr.com/bc5605bdd8a2389b2154e12887876657/0d112d65bee945c4-c0/s540x810/3d356bfa5b24d764147ed113a4f9298fb2a80d29.jpg)
❤️ 365,984 💬 120,393
Liked by: tmz people and others
duexmoi: could this engagement be a publicity stunt between y/n y/ln and joe burrow? a recap: a few days before the nfl honors y/n posted a engagement ring but quickly took it down and replaced it with a post about her day in new orleans. many are calling it a publicity stunt with even the rumors of her posting it because of ladies in his dms ��.
the ring, a cartier ring with a customized diamond going up to $32,000.
username_16: if she confirms it before the news dies down everyone wont be as mad.
username_17: we all LOVE y/n so much as a wag
username_18: sign the prenup joe..
username_19: off topic, the ring is so pretty.
*load more comments*
y/n_handle posted a story
caption: favorite fit this season from week 17 at broncos 🤍 also revealing something soon.
joeyb_9
❤️ 1.5m 💬
Liked by: bengals lahjay_10 y/n_handle and others
joeyb_9: future mr and mrs burrow
*comments off* y/n_handle
📍new orleans la
❤️ 987,423 💬 539,383
Liked by: bengals lahjay_10 tmz and others
y/n_handle: how lucky are we 🧡 joeyb_9: i love you (future) mrs burrow
lahjay_10: joe finally found someone who can put up with his bs forever!! (so I don't have to anymore)
joeyb_9: lahjay_10 keep that same energy, you arent getting the ball anytime next season
bengals: queen of cincinnati 🐅
username_20: i knew it!!!
username_21: that ring thoughhh
username_22: that should be me 💔 *load more comments*
note: almost my birthday month but do we like it or no??
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Lend me a hand.
Kang No-eul x fem!reader
ִ ˚。‧ ୨୧ ‧ ˚ ♡
synopsis: you make a post on rednote asking people to send hand pics and one in particular stands out <33
a/n: this is literally inspired by a TikTok post I saw on TikTok abt asking rednote girls to post their hand pics to I wrote abt it :3
warnings: suggestive!!! ^_^
![Tumblr media](https://64.media.tumblr.com/f55a88ef4a24286470160b891226ef8f/ea13c97bf1f24f71-99/s540x810/6728826ce610a2cca23fd69d7b9ed4bf3bf31247.jpg)
![Tumblr media](https://64.media.tumblr.com/3e1136b90c2051c619c3c274da11425e/ea13c97bf1f24f71-cd/s540x810/b1a187560760242d1450c9d0d4c52baca6b7ec8e.jpg)
![Tumblr media](https://64.media.tumblr.com/bd3dd99e74c7604f243b8e2e62eb3dce/ea13c97bf1f24f71-0c/s540x810/b3410d293fa50d84b237a0aaab630a71dee279c9.jpg)
You’re lying in bed, half-draped in your sheets, scrolling through Rednote with lazy amusement. Tonight the timeline is a real trainwreck—thirst traps, midnight confessions, and way too many purse-rattling, blurry mirror selfies. Nothing new. Nothing interesting. Just the usual blend of chaos and thirst, a digital void where people throw out their most reckless thoughts and hope someone bites.
Your thumb rests on the record key and without much deliberation, you push it down.
"Alright, I’m just gonna say it—hands are hot. Like, good hands? Nice veins, rings, long fingers? Yeah. If you have them, drop the proof below. Do the right thing."
You smirk at the camera before stopping the recording. The caption practically writes itself:
“Hand lovers, rise up. Don’t disappoint me.”
With a swipe of the finger, you share and drop your phone on the bed. It’s not that deep. Just a few minutes of distraction, maybe a good chuckle, maybe, someone quite rare actually flourishes.
But you don’t expect anything serious.
Certainly not what happens next.
The next time you glance at your inbox five minutes later your stomach somersaults just watching an email.
One reply stands out among the sea of comments.
@noxx: I got you.
Your heart stutters. Your skin prickles.
Attached is a photo.
You hesitate, pulse hammering as you tap on it.
As soon as it loads, all the breath is gone from your trachea.
No-eul’s hand.
Lying casually on a dark background, effortless—as if she just snapped the picture without thinking. However, it is the fine details that make your thighs to be squashed.
The faint veins tracing over her knuckles. The long fingers, elegant and deceptively relaxed. The harsh opposite of her black-lacquered nails ontop of her flesh, broken just enough to ruin you. The rings—silver, a little worn, snug on her fingers, the kind that would feel heavy if they ghosted over your skin.
Your mouth goes dry.
Oh.
You shift on your bed, pressing your thighs together, trying not to let a damn picture of her hand affect you like this—but it’s already too late.
Another notification pops up, making your stomach lurch.
A DM.
Noxx: Did I pass?
You inhale sharply, fingers hesitating over the keyboard.
Your body is already betraying you—too warm, too aware, too restless.
You: Are you trying to kill me?
The typing bubble appears.
Noxx: Depends. Is it working?
Heat licks at your skin.
You bite your lip, acutely aware of how you lie there, forgotten, dreaming about her hands in a way that, frankly, they really shouldn't both excite bore you.
You: You should be arrested for this.
Noxx: For what? Sending a picture?
Your breathing is now shallow, your body is stiff enough that the task is too trivial. But it’s not simple at all, is it?
Because she knows.
She knows.
Your fingers tremble slightly as you type.
You: For knowing exactly what you’re doing.
A pause.
Noxx: Oh? And what exactly am I doing?
Your stomach tightens.
Your thighs press together harder, frustration mounting because she’s baiting you, and it’s working. She wants you to say it, to admit it.
And God, you want to.
You hesitate.
You: You’re making it hard to think straight.
A longer pause this time.
Noxx: Interesting choice of words.
You swallow hard.
You should walk away from this. You should avoid her and pretend that one and only photograph did just pull everything apart.
But—
Another message.
Noxx: Should I send another? Maybe a video this time?
Your breath catches.
Your body reacts before your brain does, heat curling low in your stomach at just the thought of seeing those hands move.
For a second, you stall (long enough to think about turning away from the cliff's drop), but your fingers are already flying across the keyboard.
You: Show me.
The very second you click the "send", you swear you lose the ability to breathe.
The typing bubble appears. Then disappears.
Your pulse is a thunderous rhythm in your ears.
Then, finally—
A new message pops up.
Noxx: Don’t say I didn’t warn you.
Attachment: Video
You hesitate, fingers trembling as you press play.
The screen opens to her hand—slow, deliberate movements as her fingers flex and curl, stretching in a way that feels way too intentional. The lighting is moody, casting sharp shadows that emphasize every detail—the veins, the tendons shifting beneath her skin, the glint of silver rings catching the light.
A your breath comes to a standstill, she pulls her thumb across her palm in a slow, teasing caress, a motion that is threatening.
Then, the audio kicks in.
A soft, amused hum. Low, rich, dangerous.
"That flustered already?"
Your stomach drops.
Your entire body burns.
Sudden feeling of warm current races through your body and hips close to each other while tremor runs up your back.
Oh. Oh.
You were not prepared for this.
Your fingers shake and you struggle to type a response.
You: You’re actually evil.
The typing bubble appears immediately.
Noxx: And yet, you’re still watching.
You suck in a sharp breath, pulse hammering.
Because she’s right.
And you have a very big problem.
<33
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svt when their idol s/o win an award | [ ot13 ]
a/n: hi guys, had this in my draft for along time. currently working on the requests sent ! underestimated how long it’ll take to think of how each members would act in these scenarios.
![Tumblr media](https://64.media.tumblr.com/bee140350c8482135b608252217a44ac/777b2dd6abf2644c-52/s400x600/66c87a0739b87696b7c439b2f222d3344069ff06.jpg)
![Tumblr media](https://64.media.tumblr.com/d347116b5a1674d6f46a0080d35a644c/777b2dd6abf2644c-ac/s540x810/9da8835f7239fd74b89acd3e6358ea5ccbe1ec87.jpg)
![Tumblr media](https://64.media.tumblr.com/a22e31d38c23f2ffd7a39129a170c9ba/777b2dd6abf2644c-41/s540x810/7ef64c8893da3997ac1e7e06edeb30c7496742c4.jpg)
[🫧] seungcheol
- really proud of you. stands up to clap for you, you bet he’s tryna clap louder than everyone.. shares all photos taken of you with your reward on his story, weverse with the caption “proud of you”.
[🫧] jeonghan
- he makes all the members clap for you (they’ll all clap for you even without him asking of course). “aigoo~ you won” he’ll say while pinching your cheeks. he’ll treat you for dinner that night!
[🫧] joshua
- his ◠‿◠ smile is what shows up on the big screen after you were presented your reward. he’s so proud of you, those late nights he stayed up with you working on your song. all paid off in the end.
[🫧] junhui
- happy boy. cheering you on from his seat. the type to jump up and down from his seat as well though. awkward hug when you come back because of the camera on you guys.
[🫧] hoshi
- cheering for you, cheering for you LOUDLY at the ceremony that you can hear him all the way from the stage 😞. let’s everyone know he’s your number1 supporter. takes a lot of pictures of you and your reward (makes you do horanghae:/ )
[🫧] wonwoo
- claps and smiles. gives you a massive smile when you’re in your seat but when you’re in private he’ll give you millions of hugs and kisses. “i’m so proud of you..”
[🫧] woozi
- dad smile when you’re doing your speech. deep down, he’s really proud of you. those lates night you’ll stay with him at his studio going over your song, the lyrics, the beats. worth it all. wouldn’t trade the smile you had when they announced you as a winner for anything.
[🫧] dokyeom
- cheering for you LOUDLY. beaming at you from his seat. “i knew you could do this!” gives you a big kiss on the cheek when you’re back next to him.
[🫧] mingyu
- also posts you everywhere !! he’s so proud of you. the type to shed a few tears when you. gives you a massive hug when you come back to your seat. forehead kisses !! lots of them.
[🫧] minghao
- posts you on his story as well. when you’re at home, he hugs you tight while swaying you both side to side. a lot of kisses that night with praises “well done 宝贝 [baby]”.
[🫧] seungkwan
- he’s so so sooooo proud of you. he promotes your win on his social media and also sings your songs during karaoke whenever he can. holds your hand for the rest of the night :) not afraid to show affection in public.
[🫧] vernon
- proud of you, sits there nodding his head with a smile whiling looking at you on the big screen. side-hugs you when you come back to your seat which is designated right next to him.
[🫧] chan
- like a proud dad 100%. clapping loudly with a huge smile. has his arms out waiting for you to give him a hug when you’re off the stage. give the man the hug !!!!!
#seventeen fluff#seventeen x reader#seventeen#seventeen x you#seventeen headcanons#minghao x reader#seventeen x y/n#vernon x reader#dokyeom x reader#jeonghan x reader#seungcheol x reader#joshua x reader#junhui x reader#woozi x reader#seungkwan x reader#dino x reader#mingyu x reader#wonwoo x reader#hoshi x reader#kpop x reader#vernoniekiss
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for @steddie-week day 3 | long (and a little bit of mutual pining but the kind when they're literally dating which i think is even more pathetic)
tags: modern day, famous au, actor!steve, rockstar!eddie
Eddie stayed longer than he should have.
He was supposed to leave Chicago with the rest of the band yesterday after their show at Credit Union 1 – opening night for a year-long national tour.
Eddie didn’t leave yesterday though. Instead, he insisted on spending one last night with Steve, one last morning pretending like they would actually get up and go to that breakfast spot they like even though they both knew they’d be spending the time wrapped up together in their bed, in the home they share, refusing to disentangle themselves until they had no other choice.
No other choice meant Eddie waited so long to leave that he ended up on a flight which would get him into Ohio with barely enough time to make it to the venue in Cincinnati before showtime (and he was missing soundcheck completely – sorta shot himself in the foot with that one, in Steve's opinion, though he won’t be caught complaining).
He won’t be caught doing anything – not publicly, anyway.
Steve and Eddie’s relationship is kind of in the halfway-stage between secret and private, where Steve posts vague, faceless photos of the two of them every now and then but still deflects questions about his romantic life during interviews because – look. He and Eddie are both at weird high-points in their careers at the moment, and that means there’s a lot of eyes on them whether they like it or not. Steve had a public relationship turn sour years ago and there is no way in hell he’s letting it happen again.
Not with Eddie. Not when it counts.
There are speculations, obviously (and after Steve dropped Eddie off at O'Hare, he posted a photo of the Kiss n’ Fly sign to his IG story with the caption i hate this place :( – mostly for his own amusement at the specific way his notifications implode afterward), and they’ll probably get around to an official hard-launch someday, but for now Steve likes that they’re keeping things to themselves, especially when they don’t get to make that choice with much else.
Steve gets a just landed text from Eddie a few hours after he boarded his plane.
(Steve knew. He’d been tracking the flight).
Before he could respond, Eddie added, miss you so fn much
i miss you too, Steve texted back, and before either of them could wallow in it too much, he sent, gonna make it on time?
probably, Eddie answered. Then, getting ready in the car lol
He goes quiet after that (the getting ready, presumably), which is fine.
Steve gets it.
He’s busy too. It’s why he’s not following along on Eddie’s tour like some glorified groupie, and it’s not like the distance is anything new. On the contrary, it’s been an element of their relationship since they met at an awards show after-party four years ago. It’s more that this time around, they were supposed to only have four-and-a-half weeks together before Steve headed off on a press tour for the movie he filmed last year, but then that got pushed out a bit further, and so that four-and-a-half weeks together turned into a glorious nine, the longest Steve and Eddie’s calendars had ever been aligned without some serious planning beforehand.
He just got used to it, Steve supposes.
He got used to having Eddie around all the time, under his fingertips, under his skin. He got used to saying goodnight in person, in their bed together instead of over phone lines, got used to waking up in Eddie's arms and hearing sweet nothings whispered in his ear rather than reading the texts Eddie would leave for him to wake up to when they were apart.
He'll adjust just like he always does, and the worst part will be over tomorrow morning – that moment right between sleep and wake when Steve will realize Eddie isn’t in their bed with him.
Like it or not, the distance is their normal and they make it work (except it’s not even making it work, because it’s not like that. Any situation, any set of circumstances will work without question because it’s Eddie).
The start time for the Cincinnati show comes and goes. A few minutes into the opening act and while Steve is mindlessly flitting between Instagram and TikTok waiting for the algorithm to fill his feed with clips from the concert (ones of Eddie, preferably), his screen lights up with a call.
“Hey,” he says the second he slams his thumb on the green accept button.
“Hey,” Eddie replied, his tone nothing short of grim.
“You geared up for the show?” Steve asked.
“No,” Eddie answered, “I’m quitting.”
Steve rolled his eyes.
“Yeah, okay.”
“I need you to come tuck my pockets in,” Eddie said, and it’s a goddamn wonder Steve didn’t break down then and there, because Eddie always managed to tug his pants on in a way that made the front pockets stick out just a bit, and throughout their years together Steve had gotten into the habit of tucking them back in for him, squeezing Eddie’s hips a little when he was done and pulling him in for a kiss.
“Yeah,” Steve manages a wet laugh, “I – fuck, man, I wish I was there to tuck them in for you.”
“I want you here so bad, Steve," Eddie says, "I really, really miss you."
“I miss you too,” Steve nodded, even though miss isn't a big enough word for the homesick feeling in his chest, “Only a week until the Indy show though. And I’m coming with you for the Michigan one after.”
“Yeah,” Eddie replied, and if he sounded a little morose about it, Steve was right there with him. Sure, it’s a comfort knowing he’ll be seeing Eddie again so soon, but when those two days are over…yeah, it’s gonna be a long goddamn while until next time, because Eddie will be playing the Midwest while Steve’s press tour is mostly on the East Coast this time around, and after that he heads up into Vancouver to shoot a period drama mini-series while Eddie plays the southern half of the US, and then…well, Steve could keep going. They’re both taking a short break for the holidays, but that and the rare weekend one of them can fly out to the other is about it for the foreseeable future.
Which, yeah, Steve loves acting, loves that he gets to make a whole career out of it, and he knows that Eddie feels the same way about his music, but…the love he has for Eddie definitely edges out the rest of it – enough that he feels the distance between him like a dull, ever-present ache whenever they’re apart.
Eddie only ends their call when his manager practically has to yank the phone out of his hand and shove him onstage, and then Steve settles back into bed, back into scrolling mindlessly on his phone waiting for his finely-tuned algorithms to do their jobs.
Sure enough, it takes less than thirty minutes for Steve’s FYP to start showing him TikToks from Eddie’s show, and amidst all the hair and leather and silver chains and chunky rings and eyeliner and manic energy, Steve sees something else, something that has the hurt of missing Eddie increasing ten-fold, something that has him seriously considering taking an ax to all his contracts and his career and his livelihood and getting on the next plane to Cincinnati.
Eddie left his pockets untucked.
#tour dates are vaguely inspired by the US leg of Metallica’s Damaged Justice tour#features some sneaky secret-relationship bits i yoinked out of the day-1 prompt i lost control of#steddie#steve harrington#eddie munson#steddie week 2024#long post for “long” prompt ig lol#might come back and edit this a bit more tmrw
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WAG Life || Lucy Bronze x Reader
Summary: Lucy’s obsessed with the idea of you being her WAG
Warnings: established relationship, smut, strap-on, lucy having a domestic kink
Word Count: 2.6k
|*|
The plane rocked back and forth due to turbulence as Lucy scrolled through her Instagram feed and her heart stopped when she saw her girlfriend. Instantly liking it, she thumbed through the photos of the recent post. It was mainly pictures of you at the women’s World Cup but she felt herself pause when she saw one; a photo of you cooking. She could feel herself heating up but it all came to a point when she read your caption:
Living my best WAG life.
She had always liked the idea of you being her little wife in the stands cheering her on and not having to work for anything. Only taking care of her, never wanting for anything, and relying solely on her. It was enough to make Lucy combust. You had no idea what you were doing to her, playing right into her fantasy without even realizing it.
"Fuck," she mumbled to herself.
As she scrolled through your posts, she noticed that you had posted a lot more homemaking content. Pictures of you cooking, cleaning, or rearranging things. If she didn't know better, she would think you were doing these things on purpose.
"Lucy, we're touching down soon," Millie called.
"Okay," Lucy mutters, not taking her eyes off her phone, off of you.
Lucy's need to see you doubled. She couldn't wait to get to your shared apartment and just be with you. You were all she could think about when the plane touched down. You were all she could think about when she was driving to the apartment. And you were all she could think about as she walked up the stairs.
Her insides tingled as she approached the door, unlocking it quietly and entering the space. She could hear footsteps on the hardwood floors before she could see the person they belonged to.
"Lucy!"
"Darling!"
You flew into her arms without a second thought, forcing her to drop her luggage to be able to catch you. Lucy automatically brought her hands under your butt to support you, groaning when she realized you weren't wearing pants
"You're home," you sighed into her neck.
"Damn right, I am."
"I missed you," you mumbled into her skin.
"I missed you," Lucy grinned, making her way over to the kitchen counter. "You know what else I missed?"
She could feel you shake your head.
"Your kisses."
You brought your face out of her neck finally and looked at her.
"I missed kissing you," you confessed, bringing your lips closer to hers.
Lucy couldn't take it anymore, softly placing her lips onto yours. The kiss was sweet and gentle as if you both were afraid to break the other. Lucy softly set you on the counter, the cold marble against your bare skin causing you to shiver.
As the footballer breaks the kiss, she looks around the apartment.
The last time Lucy had been in the apartment, you both had just bought it. It was empty save for a TV, a sofa, and a queen bed in the shared room. Now, it looked completely different. It looked like a home.
"You've been working," Lucy gawks.
"Do you like it," you ask shyly. "I wanted you to come home to something nice. You've worked so har-
She cut you off as she connected your lips once more, not being able to be away from you for long. Lucy could feel her insides melting at your words. This is everything she ever wanted.
"Everything is perfect," Lucy whispered in between kisses, rubbing your bare thighs. "It's beautiful."
Lucy watched as you beamed at the praise, a smile gracing your features.
"I was about to get started on dinner," you began. "Is there anything specific you want?"
Lucy almost moans at your question, "No, anything you make will be good."
You nod, giving her one more peck before getting to work and shooing her off to put her luggage away.
When Lucy returns, she can't keep her eyes off of you. The raven-haired woman was forced to watch as you hummed and twirled around the kitchen, cooking for her. You were cooking for her. It was enough to drive her mad.
"Luce, do you want to help me," you ask with a smile.
"No. I enjoy watching you," Lucy says simply.
"Okay."
As she watched you it dawned on her, you were wearing her old kit, the number 2 and the name "Bronze" showing proudly on the back. You really did have no idea what you were doing. Completely out of touch with how much you were turning your girlfriend on. Lucy could feel herself growing wetter and wetter by the minute.
"I think I'm going to go take a shower, love."
"Okay, I think everything should be in the shower caddy on the side. And the towels are in the cupboard under the sink," you explain, turning around and wiping your hands on a towel.
Everything you were doing was doing something to Lucy and it kind of annoyed her. She needed you so bad.
"O-okay," she stuttered walking off to the bathroom.
As she undressed, Lucy couldn't help but continue to think about you. Your words, your actions, your touch, all of it made her want you more and more. She turned the water on and stepped under the warm spray, closing her eyes and letting out a deep sigh. It felt amazing to be home and with you again.
She can't help but replay the scene in her head. You were cooking for her, taking care of her. She couldn't believe how lucky she was to have you in her life. The steam filled up the bathroom as she lathered her body with soap. After a little bit, she hops out and quickly dresses in a sports bra and sweatpants.
She rounds the corner with her hands in her pockets and is greeted with a set table and you doing the dishes. She leans against the wall and watches you for a bit, nipping at her bottom lip and adjusting her glasses as she thinks. You hadn't noticed her yet, your attention focused on cleaning. So focused that you didn't notice her coming up behind you until you felt her hand around your waist and the other around your throat.
"Hello," you smile, the hand around your neck forcing you into an arch to face her.
"Hello," she smirked back, pecking your lips. "I was hoping you would join me in the shower."
"I'm sorry," you frown. "How about we take one tomorrow morning."
If you can walk, Lucy thought to herself.
"I love you being like this," Lucy sighs, releasing your neck and allowing you to turn and face her.
"Like what," you asked confused, loving the feeling of her arms around your waist.
"Like my little housewife," she sighs. "I love that you don't have to work and that you can just be home, taking care of me."
"I love doing it," you reply, wrapping your arms loosely around her neck.
After a beat of silence, you ask, "What are you thinking about?"
"You," Lucy whispers.
Her eyes stayed on yours as your breath hitched. You raised yourself up on your toes to shyly peck her lips, your hands loosely playing with strands of her hair Her hands trail from your waist to her shoulder blades.
"Jump."
You obey and wrap your legs around her waist, your lips automatically finding hers in a rough heated kiss. She devoured you, her tongue intermingling with yours as she did. She carried you to your shared bedroom, setting you down against the wall.
"What are you doing to me," Lucy asked, her accent thick.
You stared at her with doe eyes, confusion clouding them.
"Fuck, you've ruined me. I can't describe it. But, you've ruined me for anyone else."
You groan as she kisses your neck, her body pressed against yours firmly. Your moans only fueled her as she descended down to your core. Glancing up at you, she smirks as your brain begins to fizzle out, she can see it.
"What's got you so worked up, love," Lucy asks, her nose rubbing against your clothed slit. "Tell me."
"Fuck," you whimpered, your back pressing against the wall.
"I won't do anything until you tell me."
You gasp as her thumbs press against your hip bones, her hands holding the small of your back.
"Fuck," you whimpered. "I love being your housewife. It makes me feel really good."
Lucy moans into your thighs at your confession, her own thighs pressing together. Still kneeling, she raises herself up to kiss your stomach. Placing little pecks on your skin causing you to buck forward.
"Yeah? What else?"
"And, I love," you gasp as Lucy's tongue drags against your clothed core. "I love how you take care of me and how I don't have to think when you're around."
Lucy watched as you began to grind yourself onto her tongue, your hips shaking as your clit caught on the ridge of her wet muscle. She couldn't move as she watched in pure shock and awe. How were you so perfect? It was as if you were reading her mind.
Lucy's fingers hooked on your underwear as her eyes found yours. A smirk found its way onto her lips as your eyes quickly looked somewhere else, unable to handle the intensity. Cute.
Lucy slowly pulled your underwear down your legs, flinging them somewhere over her shoulder. You began to take your shirt off.
"No, love. Keep it on. Please keep it on," Lucy begged.
Your hands dropped the hem of the kit immediately.
"Love seeing you in this, baby," Lucy breathed, lifting one of your legs onto her shoulder. "Can't wait to fucking make you a Bronze."
You shuddered against her as her nose rubbed against your clit, sending jolts of electricity up your spine. Your hands moved to her hair, gripping it, keeping your girlfriend in place as her tongue lapped at your clit. You couldn't stop the sounds coming from your mouth, your head falling back against the wall.
You whimpered as your hips bucked up into her face. Lucy cooed at your embarrassment, smirking as you brought your hands up to your face.
You were the cutest little thing ever, your mouth open as you threw your head back against the wall. Lucy's fingers finally entered you, stroking your walls in a way that had your juices running down her arm.
"Look at that," Lucy groaned, lips still coated in you. "Did you need me that bad?"
"Please," you whimpered, hips bucking into her face.
"Please what," Lucy panted. "Tell me what you want and I'll give it to you baby. But you have to tell me."
"Hm? I can't hear you, love. You're gonna have to speak up."
"Fuck me, please," you gasped, as Lucy tapped on your clit.
Her muscles bulged as she stood, now towering over you.
"That wasn't so hard, now was it?"
She lifted you up, wrapping your legs around her waist before connecting your lips. She was sure you felt it, the bulge in her sweats. Just to be sure, she began to grind her hips into you, loving the way you moaned into the kiss.
You knew Lucy loved wearing her strap around the apartment so you don't know why it shocked you. You had missed this feeling. Her tongue entered your mouth, wrapping around yours and deepening the kiss. You didn't know whose breath was who's.
You whimpered as she sat you down on the edge of the bed.
"Get on all fours for me," she commanded her accent coming out even more. "Don't fucking make me wait."
You're breath hitches at her roughness, immediately complying. Slowly moving to your knees in the the center of the bed. Your chest rose and fell rapidly from the anticipation as you felt the bed dip from Lucy's weight.
Lucy couldn't stop the warmth that spread through her chest at the sight of your eager submission to her. The way you slightly wiggled your hips in need, you didn't even realize you were doing it.
The older woman stroked the black silicone toy, groaning as if she could feel it. Tapping it on your entrance, she watched as a string of your juices connected the toy and your core.
"You don't even know how fucking hot you are, love."
You both groaned as Lucy pushed into you slowly, your back arching.
She began to pump into you, her hips grinding into you at a pace that was slow, yet deep. She loved watching your head hang and your hips push back against her in ecstasy at her slow but hard thrusts.
The defender leaned down to kiss your nape, her skin burning yours. She could hear your sharp and breathy whimpers and it drove her to pound into you.
She had missed this dearly. Your sounds and need for her. She missed her ability to touch you whenever she wanted, claiming you as hers.
"I don't know how I went this long without you," she groaned into your ear, her fingers reaching down to your clit.
You bucked up against her at the sensation, your stomach beginning to tighten. Lucy watched you with fervor, gazing as you took what she gave you. You were perfect, just for her.
Her fingers continued to rub against you and her hips rocked slowly.
"Please cum," she begged. "I want it so bad."
Your back arched as her fingers got rougher.
"Fuck," you groaned, throwing your head back.
Lucy's thrusts began to quicken, becoming harsher. She needed your pleasure and wanted to see you come undone. Lucy had always put your pleasure above anything else and right now was no different.
"Give it to me, my love."
Her begging continued to spur you on, your gut reaching its boiling point. You came harshly, Lucy's hips milking your bliss and lengthening your orgasm.
Her movements didn't stop. Instead, she flipped you over, your body slamming into the bed.
"I'll never get over watching you cum," she moaned, her clit catching on the strap.
Her hands gripped your hips, pulling you down to meet her thrusts. Her fingertips dug into the fat of your hips, loving the flesh between them.
You watched her arms flex as she held you down, her biceps on display. Sweat rolled down her quivering abdomen as she continued to pleasure you.
"Please," you groaned out, your body still spasming.
"Please what, sweetheart," Lucy smiled, her hips continuing to slam into you, leaving a burning sensation on the back of your thighs. "Tell me what you want. Do you want me here?"
She allowed her fingers to return to your clit, tapping gently against the small nub. You gasped out at the overstimulation.
"You always were so needy," she grinned. "And I've always loved it."
"Lucy, please," you babbled, your body writhing beneath her. "A break, please."
She pouted mockingly and continued to thrust in and out of you.
"You want to be my little WAG in the stand, right? My little trophy wife?"
You nod, your cheeks heating, "Yes."
"Well, then you have to keep me happy. And what would make me really happy, baby, is for you to keep taking this cock."
#lucy bronze#lucy bronze x reader#lucy bronze imagine#barca femeni x reader#lucy bronze smut#woso#woso imagines#woso x reader
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