#it always comes off more to me as 'these are the significant others of my kids so they are automatically on thin ice'

[jakedustry]

𝐃𝐄𝐒𝐈𝐆𝐍 𝐌𝐘 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄 𝐅𝐎𝐑 𝐘𝐎𝐔 - 𝐊𝐈𝐌 𝐌𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐘𝐔

IN WHICH Kim Mingyu has a plan for everything. Even you. But there are still things he can’t predict, no matter how smart he is, leading his “brilliant plan” to a disaster as his best friend falls for you — his girl.

pairing– Kim Mingyu x fem!reader ㅤㅤㅤ mentions of Wonwoo x reader

featuring– lot of seventeen members, user @adel222 as Adel, oc Hanni as Soonyoung's gf

genre– Angst, Fluff, Smut

contains– auctions, interior designer!reader, cook!Mingyu, kinda asshole!Mingyu, oh no they can't stop flirting even though they are supposed to be rivals!, rivals to lovers, loverboy!Wonwoo, Mingyu is plotting, love triangle, lots of lying, the greatest bsf!Seokmin, mentions of burn out, lots of flirting, use of pet names, lots of cursing, arguing, alcohol, two smut scenes

word count– 31k (I'm sorry)

smut warnings– breast play + worship lowk, unprotected sex, fingering, missionary, oral (f. and m. receiving), hair pulling (Mingyu's hair), praise, handjob, cum swallowing

playlist

↪ izzy adds... okay, it's safe to say this was a journey. I had this idea back in September and have been developing it ever since, and honestly, it's only thanks to the lovely people I have around me that I didn't drop this back when I was at 2k. I'm so thankful to everyone who listened to me yap about this fic and even more to my beta reader who always has my back <3

There were only three men you knew the names of when it came to your most significant and expensive hobby. Jussi Pylkkänen, Tobias Meyer, and Kim Mingyu. While Kim Mingyu wasn’t anyhow famous in the auction world outside of South Korea, he was undoubtedly one to remember. 

Whenever you sat in the auction room, bidding everything you could on your favorite art pieces, it felt monotonous. It felt as if you were sitting in the room with amateurs. Others were scared to bid high, you realized during your first two weeks. They feared coming home to their families with a piece of art instead of the billions of won they had in their bank account before they left the house. 

You didn’t have those problems. Unlike other millionaires and billionaires, you weren’t born with such money. You had counted your every penny since you were fifteen, working your ass off so you could live the life you always wanted. You spent every minute of your free time building this life for yourself to be able to spend millions on art that you could sell for double the price later if you wanted to.

That was the reason you got to where you are right now. You knew your way around with money. You studied how to make the most out of things. You understood how to talk well and influence people. But most importantly, what might have been your most substantial advantage in this industry, was that you were a woman. 

And men were naive. 

It only took a glance, maybe a little smile, to have whoever you wanted wrapped around your finger. When you did find a suitable opponent who wasn’t scared of bidding some money on what he wanted, he’d let you have whatever you asked for the moment you just so slightly leaned forward in your place, revealing a bit of your chest. 

Yet, there was still one man you didn’t get to toy around with. Kim Mingyu. Why? You were asking yourself the same question. Even though, deep down, you knew the answer.

He was the same as you. 

He toyed with people. And he enjoyed it. 

♡⸝⸝ ♡⸝⸝ 

It was your third auction when you heard his name for the first time. 

“Fuck, he decided to join too?” You turn around as you hear the chatters behind you, sipping on the glass of wine you have been holding for the past ten minutes. “Oh hell no, I am out. I heard Mr. Yang had spent over 200 million ₩ last month because they had some deal together, and then he took everything! Yang hasn’t shown up at any auctions since! I heard he had lost everything!” 

Your ears perk up as you listen to their conversation, slowly heading toward the two males you’ve been watching. “Mind me joining you, boys?” You bat your eyes at them with a smile, making it almost impossible for them to refuse. 

“Kim Mingyu. That’s his name,” the taller of them explains, and you notice how he straightens his back when your eyes shift to his figure. You smile at him, tugging the right side of your hair behind your ear. Something you’ve learned over the years. For a reason unknown to you, men found it attractive. “So, this Kim Mingyu… What’s his deal?” 

Such a simple question, and yet, no one seems to know the answer. 

“I heard he wants to dominate the auction industry.” — “His deal… don’t you want to know my deal instead?” — “No one knows how he does it!” — “Oh, I wish I knew. I’ve been trying to find out what he does to screw around with these people too. Let me know if you have any luck.” 

You sigh, leaving from another group of guys. You’d started at least twelve conversations by now, hoping to find out more about The Legend, as they all called him, but all you got from it were guys trying to flirt with you or tell you you were too young to be at auctions. 

“Care for a drink?” 

“I’m sorry, but if you excuse me, the auction is about to begin,” you try to decline his offer politely but stop when you turn around to face the male behind you. A face you don’t recognize. His tall figure leans over you, and you watch as dark strands of his hair fall in front of his eyes. “And what better way is to start an auction if not with a fine glass of wine?” He smiles. Only a half-genuine smile, you figure. Still, you nod to him, placing your hand on his arm when he offers. 

You didn’t know who you were messing with back then. You saw a pretty face to toy around with and thought that was your win. 

You thought you could wrap Kim Mingyu, the Legend Kim Mingyu, around your finger. 

You smile as he hands you the glass of white wine, commenting on the fact that it goes well with your dress. “I am not quite sure I caught your name, by the way,” he says casually once you hold his arm again, making your way towards the bidding room. It sounded rehearsed, as if he had said it a thousand times in the same spot. But you knew that wasn’t the case because, excluding you, there were only five other women, all of whom he was avoiding eye contact with. 

Maybe it was his personality then, you think. 

Your name slips past your lips in a heartbeat before you can even rethink it or come up with a pen name. “Well,” your name sounds better on his lips, more elegant. “What are you looking for tonight?” Now that was cheap, you tell yourself. A chuckle escapes your lips as you shake your head slightly, looking up at him to see his face. His eyes don’t tell you he wishes your answer to be him, though. “Well, I bet you’re aware of the pieces in the auction tonight. They are all beautiful, but…” 

“But there is one that has your attention,” he adds before you can continue, making you nod. “Number six,” you inform him, your eyes shifting to the empty seats in the room.

“Number six is what I am taking home tonight.” 

You don’t turn to look at him again, not until his arm escapes your grip and he stands in front of you. “We’ll see about who it will come home with. Seems like we have a similar taste,” he smiles again, excusing himself as he walks away without another word. He doesn’t share his name with you, but you don’t mind. You don’t plan on seeing him again after this auction. 

You take a seat around the middle row. Not too far back, but also not in the very front. You notice the black-haired boy three rows ahead, calmly watching the front. The few chairs beside him are empty, and no one seems to be thrilled with having to sit next to him. You scoff, shaking your head at the loser you thought you found, and look at the moderator instead. 

Number six was yours. 

You sit silently throughout most of the bidding, only trying twice at the very beginning when prices weren’t high yet, but stop eventually, leaving others to take it. You didn’t care much about other art pieces. And, the less you bought before the painting you want turned up, the more money you would have to spend on it. 

You look down onto your lap, where your phone is, sighing upon seeing the black screen with no new notifications. “4 million.” You glance up again as you hear the bid, your eyes shifting from the taller boy from before to the painting on the podium. Your eyes widen, and you immediately raise your number card. “4.5 million.” The moderator doesn’t even have a chance to speak before the male raises his number again, doubling your amount. Another number, a new one, raises his hand, the words ten million leaving his lips. You grit your teeth, raising your number card to bid again, but before you can offer your price, the dark-haired male is talking again, increasing the bid on his own. 

“Alright then,” you mumble, raising your number greater so the moderator would notice you. You take a deep breath, ignoring the enthusiastic smile on the male’s face as he watches you. “20 million.” 

You squeeze your eyes shut, praying no one would raise the bid again. 20 million won was already way over what you planned to spend when you arrived. The painting’s worth was 40 million, 43 at best. It would be irrational to spend any more than what you paid. It would be dumb to spend more than fifty percent of the painting’s worth. 

Still, you hear a voice again, and it isn’t the moderator. For fucks sake. “I’ll take it for 30.” 

You couldn’t. You didn’t have that kind of money to spend on a painting. Even though you’d love to have it home, hanging over your bed or in your living room, knowing it could get you money if you ever got into a crisis, you just couldn’t. 

And so, you watch the dark scenery turn white as the staff comes on the podium, hiding the painting with a white sheet. The dim gray mountains disappear right before you, making you shut your eyes immediately so you wouldn’t have to watch them carry it away, knowing you’d never see it again. Whisper of Hope. You scoff at the name. Right. That was hardly true when your hope disappears in the blink of an eye. 

But as you close your eyes, the painting comes back to you. The light that pierced through the murky clouds and the mountains covered in snow, you see it all. It helps you remember why you wanted it in the first place. There was always a feeling in that painting, a quiet sense of peace that made you feel like everything would be alright, even if it never really was.

You snap out of your thoughts as you hear the moderator speak up again. “Number six sold out to Kim Mingyu, number 89.” Your eyes widen, and you immediately redirect your attention to the dark-haired male three roads ahead. His eyes are already on you, a smirk spread across his lips as he bows his head slightly, as if his manners only came back to him now. 

You scoff, realizing this was his “Nice to meet you.” You have finally met Kim Mingyu in all his glory. 

And you hated him.

♡⸝⸝ ♡⸝⸝ 

“Aren’t auctions just another form of gambling?” You raise your eyebrow as you face your best friend—Seokmin. He shrugs when he notices the look on your face, glancing around the room for some help from your other friends. “I get where he is coming from,” Soonyoung nods, making you roll your eyes. Of course, he knows where he’s coming from. 

“Care to give me a proper explanation as to why then?” You encourage the two of them, making Jihoon turn around on your computer chair so he could face the rest of you, interested in what you all could possibly have to say. 

“I mean,” Seokmin starts, clearing his throat. “You have to pay even to be able to join the auction, and you can’t possibly know if you will walk away with something or not.” – “And you can also pay a ton of money for something just to find out its value is way lower than you thought,” Soonyoung adds, nodding to prove Min’s point. 

“Okay, so it can be a bit risky,” you agree whilst rolling your eyes. “But really, you would be an idiot not to do proper research about the value of things before buying anything.” 

“I’ve seen people,” Jihoon shrugs. “Remember Mr. Lee? I spoke to his wife a few weeks ago. They got divorced when he lost all of their money because he believed a stranger and invested in some company that went bankrupt.” Seokmin’s eyes widen, and his jaw practically hits the floor, making you scoff. “As in my favorite convenience store owner…ever?!” Jihoon nods, and the youngest boy whines. “You’re kidding me!” 

“Swear on Soonyoung’s girlfriend.” The boy immediately looks up, “Hey!” You laugh, as you always do when you’re around them. “Don’t talk about my girlfriend. We are fighting right now…” he mumbles, looking down at his lap again. 

Your smile slowly fades away, exchanging a look with Jihoon. “About?” You ask, raising your eyebrow. They never fought. All their arguments were about the stupidest things ever. You doubted it was anything serious this time. “She thinks I’m not spending as much time with her as I used to. We also fought about this one girl from work. It’s been a bit hectic,” he answers shortly. “But I know you guys don’t care about that. How’s your recent project been doing?” He tries to brush it off with a smile—a painfully fake one. 

“No, rewind. We do care,” Seokmin assures him, anxious at the sudden mood change. You can’t help but pity your friend. They never fight. That’s right. They never went through anything huge, so he never had to deal with something like this. “Hoshi,” you call out softly by his favorite nickname ever, making him look up. “Do you want to talk about it?” 

“No, not really,” he admits. “Thanks, though.” You nod, telling him there’s nothing to thank you for. 

It’s quiet for a bit after that. It feels as if you were all scared to break the silence. Too afraid to say something stupid when your friend’s eyes look so painful.

But Hoshi didn’t see it like that. “Oh my god!” He exclaims all of a sudden, catching you off guard. “I completely forgot to tell you! Hansol is throwing a party at his house next month. He’s finally planning to ask the girl he has had a crush on for months out,” he explains as if nothing ever happened. A part of you feels relieved. After all, this was the chaotic Soonyoung you were worried about. The same guy that jumped into your pool fully naked last winter because of a stupid bet. It wouldn’t be like him to stay down for the rest of the day. 

The conversation only flows after that, and you know not even Jihoon, who has been trying to ignore you all and work on his new project can focus on anything when Soonyoung and Seokmin laugh so much over a joke Hoshi said ten minutes ago. You smile as you watch the three people closest to you. Every time you sit with them like this you feel grateful to have them by your side. 

Jihoon chuckles, shaking his head at them. When your eyes meet his, you know he feels the same way. Happy, thankful, and delighted. It all shows in his eyes, no matter how nonchalant or unimpressed he wants to look. 

♡⸝⸝ ♡⸝⸝ 

The following morning, you find yourself waiting for Soonyoung to pick you up at your place. He reached out to you soon after getting home the day before, asking to grab a coffee in the morning before work and talk. You couldn’t say no to him even if you wanted to. Waking up a bit earlier to go grab a cup of coffee with your friend wasn’t something you would hate to do anyway. 

You sit on your couch, your leg bouncing on its own as you intensely stare at the project in progress in front of you. The sketch is barely started, and you need to turn in the finished design in three days. You sigh, running your fingers through your hair. No matter how long you stare at it, nothing comes to you. It’s as if there was some wall in front of you, preventing you from being able to see anything. 

You give up, spreading on the couch and grabbing your phone instead. As you’re about to text your friend and ask where he is, you hear the doorbell ring, announcing his arrival. “Coming!” You yell back, quickly shoving your phone in your pocket and getting up. You glance at the papers on your coffee table once more before grabbing your bag and leaving it behind for later. That was a problem for the future you. 

“Hey,” The older boy greets you as soon as you open the door. You smile at him, quickly taking your keys and hiding them in your bag. “Ready to go?” He asks, and you nod.

“So I obviously told her there was nothing between us and that she doesn’t need to worry, but for some reason she just doesn’t believe me,” Soonyoung whined, ranting about the fight he and his girlfriend are going through. “I tried to talk to her and explain everything she worries about, but she doesn’t want to listen to me. It’s as if she wants us to fall apart. I don’t know what to do anymore,” he mumbles, creating a pitiful frown on your face. You can’t help but feel sorry for him. 

“It’s hard if she doesn’t want to listen to you…” you comment, trying to think of a way to help him. “I mean, I don’t know what’s going through her head, right, but maybe, next time, just don’t mention anything about why you guys are fighting. Take her on a date instead. Do something nice for her. Show her how much you love her, and I’m sure she’ll stop doubting you.” 

Soonyoung falls silent, thinking about what you said. When was the last time he gave his girlfriend flowers without a reason? How long has it been since they had time for a proper date? Honestly, he wasn’t sure. 

“God, you’re right. I need to have a date with her,” he breathes out, disappointed in himself. “Thanks,” he smiles again. “For reminding me,” he adds as his smile turns into a laugh, putting you at ease. You felt like that whenever you heard him laugh, especially in situations like this. He always made you remember that you have to enjoy the moment you’re in and not overthink everything. “I’ll pay for your coffee for that.” 

“I can’t pass on that, can I?” 

The café is right behind the corner, so it takes you almost no time to reach your destination. You’re laughing when you enter the small shop, not paying much attention to the people around you. “Maybe if he actually made an effort,” you roll your eyes. “Well, maybe if someone didn’t block him after the first date, he could have,” Soonyoung laughs even harder, walking over to the register to order your and his drinks. 

“As if,” you scoff, turning around to find a place to sit, but as you do, you stumble over a foot. Foot that isn’t yours. You don’t get a chance to react, your eyes widening as gravity fails you, taking you down. Thankfully, before you can reach the floor, you feel someone’s arms wrapping around your waist tightly, ensuring you won’t fall. You blink a few times, your eyes meeting the tall guy. “Hello,” you pipe, swallowing a lump in your throat. 

“Hi,” he smiles, clearing his throat awkwardly and helping you stand straight again. “I’m sorry, that was completely my fault,” he apologizes, his eyes landing on the dark stain on your blouse. He must have spilled his drink on you while catching you. “It’s okay,” you assure him, noticing where he was looking. “Shit,” you curse quietly, quickly searching for a bathroom with your eyes. “If you excuse me,” you apologize when you find your target, meeting his eyes again. “Wait, let me help you,” the black-haired male offers. His hair is neat, his forehead exposed, and he is dressed in a dark blue suit. He looks flawless. A part of you feels annoyed by how perfect he looks. Even the glasses fit him perfectly. “No need,” you shake your head. “Thank you for offering, though,” you smile politely, quickly getting to the bathroom. 

“Well, that was embarrassing,” you sigh as you join Soonyoung at a table for two he picked out. “It was funny,” he laughs. “I watched you from the counter. You had sparks in your eyes!” He slides your cup with caramel macchiato forward, a teasing smirk on his face as he sips at his cup of coffee. “I did not,” you roll your eyes. 

Honestly, you might have. You can’t remember much about the situation. You only see the boy and his stupid smile when you close your eyes, unable to think about anything else. 

“And now you’re blushing,” he comments with a chuckle. “Isn’t this what Seokmin would call love at first sight? I hope you got his name, if nothing else.” You shake your head, sipping on your iced drink. “You’re overreacting. It’s not love, admiration, or even a tiny crush. If anything, he is just someone who ruined my favorite blouse,” you point out the stain, trying to sound annoyed. You’re sure Soonyoung can see right through your bullshit, though. Because a big part of you wishes you had asked for his name. 

♡⸝⸝ ♡⸝⸝ 

“How’s the project been going, by the way?” Soonyoung asks, walking beside you toward your company. “Last week you mentioned something about being stuck,” he mumbles, the empty plastic cup still in his hands. “Still the same,” you sigh. “I guess I finally know what it feels like to have an artist block,” you laugh it off. “I might end up passing the project onto someone else. It’s not like I need the money right now anyway.” 

“No need to rub it in my face,” he rolls his eyes. “Just retire at this point and draw the paintings you buy yourself. Isn’t that what you always wanted to do, anyway?” You fall silent, staring at the ground under your feet. “No,” you disagree, but you can’t look him in the eyes. “Ah, I thought–” You quickly shake your head, stopping him before he couldn’t dig too deep into it. “No, you thought wrong. I like designing, and I like where I am now. If I became an artist, I might not even have a place to live now.” 

Hoshi is caught off guard, shutting his mouth when he finally notices your facial expression. He didn’t even realize it at first, but it seemed like he had found a weak spot. “Okay,” he mumbles, nodding confusedly. “If you’re happy, then that’s all that matters.” 

Soonyoung is quick to change the conversation, talking about anything and everything that comes to his mind at the moment to keep you distracted, but it doesn’t work out like he would want to. All you can think about are his words. If you’re happy, then that’s all that matters. You’d like to think you are happy right now. You have amazing friends, a great job, and most importantly—freedom. You live like many people wish for. You would be stupid not to be happy. 

So why do you keep thinking about what-ifs? Why do you always wonder how your life would look if you chose to continue painting back in high school? 

“Okay, I’m going to leave you to it now,” he smiles, stopping in front of your company. “Good luck. With everything.” You smile back at him, opening your arms so he can hug you. You wrap your arms around his shoulders while he squeezes your waist, making you laugh. “Thank you, once again,” he adds, slowly letting you go. “No need to,” you shake your head. “I should be the one thanking you for my coffee.” 

You wave him goodbye with a smile, sighing as you look at the front door. I’m happy, you remind yourself. There’s nothing more you would need in your life. Nothing was missing in your life. 

You take a deep breath, walking in with a smile as you greet the lady at the reception.

♡⸝⸝ ♡⸝⸝ 

You sit in your office, trying to develop the idea for the Millers’ project on your laptop. It’s not until the loud ring of your phone gives you an excuse to think about something else. “Yes, Chan?” You hum, accepting the call from your assistant. “Ah,” you nod, looking at the clock on your wall. “You can send him in. I’ll hear him out and see,” you agree, hanging up again. Maybe a new project is just what you need at the moment. 

“Good morning,” you smile, reaching out your hand for the man opposite you to shake. “Morning, and nice to meet you,” he smiles back, shaking your hand. Your assistant stands behind him, giving a faint smile toward you, too. “This is Mr. Xu. He asked specifically for you to design his new house,” he explains, batting his eyes at you, almost making you laugh. He looks proud. “Alright, let’s look at it,” you agree, showing him the way to your table. 

“Can I get you something? A cup of coffee, tea, or water?” You offer, sitting down on your chair. You move your laptop to the side, along with some of your documents for the Millers’ project. “Tea would be nice, thank you.” You nod, glancing toward your assistant. Chan nods, turning on his heel and heading to the cafeteria to prepare everything. 

“So, do you have the house plans with you?” You ask, and he immediately pulls out his phone, looking for something. You mentally sigh, glad he came somehow prepared. If only all of your clients were like this. “It’s a two-story house. We were thinking of making this room the guest bedroom, then the bathroom, and then the living room and kitchen,” he says, pointing at each of the rooms as he shows you the main floor plans on his phone. He switches to the second floor with a simple click when he sees you nod, pointing out at the room in the left top corner, right next to the stairs. “This should be another bathroom, and here, right next to the balcony, I’d like to have our bedroom,” he explains. 

“What about these two rooms?” You ask, pointing at the room next to the bathroom and the second room leading to the balcony. “This will be my studio. And this will be a joint office for me and my fiance, ” he clears out. “Studio?” You wonder, looking at the house plans on his phone. “An art studio. I do art for a living,” he answers casually. He can see the sparks in your eyes almost right away, scoffing. He might have just won you over. 

“I’ll design the house for you,” you agree without another second of hesitation. “Are you looking for all the rooms or…?” You question, glancing at him again. He’s smiling at you, and it causes you to frown for a second. “Everything, if possible. I’m not sure how much experience you have with studios, but I would still appreciate it if you tried.” 

Chan comes back soon after, placing two cups of green tea on the table. “I’m sorry for interrupting,” your assistant clears his throat. You look up at him, questioning what he needs with your eyes. “The Millers called. They want to see how their project is doing,” he informs you, and you try your best to stay professional and not break down right in front of your client. “Come here when I’m done talking to Mr. Xu, and we’ll talk about it,” you decide, intuitively glancing at the empty draft on your laptop. Chan doesn’t push you anymore and nods, sending you a good-luck smile before leaving your office. 

“So, you were saying,” you turn to your client again, encouraging him to continue and tell you his ideas for the design. 

“Mind if I ask how you found me?” You ask, rising from your chair as the conversation with Mr. Xu comes to an end. “Through a friend’s recommendation,” he replies casually. You nod, then reach for a business card from the stack on your desk, handing it to him with a slight smile. “I’m glad your friend was satisfied with my work, then,” you say. “If you have any new ideas or want to discuss the project further, don’t hesitate to reach out. I might not always be available for a call, but my assistant’s number is right below mine.” He nods, offering a brief but polite goodbye before exiting your office. 

You sigh as you close the door behind him, leaning against it for a moment with your eyes closed. The thought of meeting Chan makes your stomach turn, but the idea of facing the Millers is even worse. You can not meet them. How could you? After two months of working for them, how do you tell them you’re done, that you don’t want to design their house anymore? The thought of it makes you sick. Not only would it be awkward, but it could cost you everything. Your career. All the work you’ve put in to get your name out there. You can’t afford that, not after everything. 

Your breath shakes, but you try to pay little to no attention to it. You need to figure it out somehow and collect yourself again. Otherwise, the tiniest next problem will be your breaking point. You fix your hair as if that was supposed to fix everything and return to your desk. Your assistant is just a call away, but you don’t dial the phone. Not immediately at least. Instead, you move your laptop back before you, forcing yourself to come up with something first. 

Minutes turn into an hour, and you never grab the phone to call your assistant. It’s as if you’re in a daze, finally getting the ideas you’ve been searching for. You only managed to finish the living room, but you're grateful for even as much. As you save the folder, leaning back in your chair to relax, the sound of the office door opening makes you groan.

“I hope you’ve been working and not lazing around until now.” You meet eyes with your assistant, rolling your eyes. “I didn’t call you, did I, Chan?” You raise an eyebrow, but it doesn’t budge him a bit. “We seriously need to talk about the Millers’ project,” he glares at you to let you know he wasn’t in the mood for jokes. “You haven’t submitted a single draft since we accepted the deal. Mr. Miller is worried, and he wants results soon.” You sigh, unable to say anything in your defense. “I talked to him and asked for more time, but you have to show him at least somehow finished design during the next month.” 

“Thank you, oh my god!” You jump up, running around the table to get to him. “I love you, Chan. Oh my god!” You yell again, making him scoff as he wraps his arms around your waist. “Sure, sure,” he shakes his head. “You seriously have to do something, though. Got it? I can’t keep defending you every time.” You nod, promising to get it done soon. 

“Also,” he clears his throat, averting his gaze. “Don’t mention any of this in front of the guys. They’d tease me until I die.” You laugh, squeezing him once more before you let him go, stepping back. “I promise I won’t tell them anything. I’ll stay the only one knowing you can actually be useful sometimes,” you grin, making him roll his eyes. “I hate you.”

♡⸝⸝ ♡⸝⸝ 

You’re unsure why, but the following day you find yourself in the same café as yesterday. 7.45 am, just like the day before when you stopped by with Soonyoung. 

“So? Was it worth it?” Lee Chan asks as you’re about to order your coffee. ��An iced caramel macchiato, to-go please,” you tell the younger lady behind the counter, ignoring your assistant’s question. You take out one of your earphones to hear her when she talks back to you, doing your best to ignore Chan’s continuous bugging. “That will be 4 750₩.” You pay with your phone, stepping aside so the next customer can order. 

“Okay, yeah, it wasn’t worth it,” you finally mutter, picking at the skin on your fingers. You still don’t know why you came back here. For some guy whose name you didn’t even know? You couldn’t have been that foolish, could you? You wouldn’t have sunk that low, right? 

It’s been a while since you’ve been in a relationship—or just gone out on a date with someone honestly. That must have been it, you convince yourself. Why else would you act so desperate? He was just a handsome guy who caught your attention due to the lack of gentlemen in your life. After your friends, who would use every chance they got to make fun of you and make your life a bit harder, he was a nice change. That’s all. 

♡⸝⸝ ♡⸝⸝ 

Yet, you step into the café the next day too. 

“Iced caramel macchiato?” The barista tries to remember your order when she sees you. You smile, nodding. You unlock your phone to pay, but before the lady can tell you your total, male’s voice interrupts you, his arm brushing against your own as he stops beside you.. “Make it two, please. I’ll pay.” Your eyes widen when you look up to see his face, holding back your smile when you notice the same boy with glasses you did two days ago. “Hi,” he greets you softly, smiling before he turns to the barista again to pay. 

“What did we get again? I was so caught up in getting to the counter I barely listened to what you ordered,” he says with a light chuckle, eyeing the drink in his hands. “Caramel Macchiato. It’s my favorite,” you reply, leading the way to one of the tables. “I see,” he nods, taking a sip as he follows you. 

When you sit down, he asks for your name, settling into the chair opposite you. He smiles, repeating your name to make sure he remembers it. “I’m Wonwoo. Jeon Wonwoo,” he says, extending his hand across the table for you to shake. “Nice to meet you, Wonwoo,” you say, giggling a little as you shake his hand. Immediately you cringe, a giggle? Really? What are you, a middle schooler?

You pull your hand back awkwardly, holding onto the cold drink to distract yourself. You try to steal subtle glances at his face, averting your gaze back to your coffee whenever you thought he might catch you in the act. With his hair down, brushing the top of his glasses, and that pretty smile, he makes it hard to focus on anything else. 

Today, he’s dressed casually—a simple black shirt that clings to his figure perfectly, making his muscles more visible. He might as well be asking you to fall for him when he looks like that. 

You quickly shake your head, snapping out of your thoughts. For a moment, you wonder if you’ve somehow turned into a middle schooler after all. Then your eyes fall to his side, noticing the camera case flung over his shoulder. “Are you a photographer?” You ask, lifting your eyes to meet his. “Ah, this?” He chuckles, shaking his head as he sets the case on the table and takes out his camera. “It’s just a hobby, not a profession,” he clarifies. 

“Can I still see some of your photos?” You ask, hopeful. Wonwoo agrees, nodding as he hands you his camera. He can’t say no to you, not when you look so excited. For a brief moment, he could almost see stars in your eyes as you took the camera from him. 

Your head tells you to ignore the feeling, but your body has a different idea. Your stomach twists in a (weird) way you’d prefer not to address—refusing to admit it could be anything like those so-called butterflies people talk about, and you swallow hard when your fingers brush against his, the soft touch sending shivers through your body. 

“You’re really talented!” you exclaim, flipping through his most recent pictures. A few are of an elderly couple—what you can only assume to be a part of his family—some are shots of nature or stray cats, and others are self-portraits of him.

You smile, finding him cute until you come across one that makes your stomach lurch: he’s shirtless, his hair wet, probably just out of the pool. A flush creeps up your neck as you quickly close the gallery, trying to shake off the image. You bring the camera up to your eyes to focus on something else, adjusting the lighting before snapping a picture of the man in front of you. 

“What was that for?” He smiles, sipping on his coffee. “Not sure,” you admit, handing him the camera back so he could take a look at the picture you took. “Actually, I could ask the same,” you proclaim, getting his attention. “You paid for me. You ran from the door to get to me on time. What was that for?” You question him, watching as his smile grows wider. He looks at his camera again, smiling at the picture of him as he shrugs, repeating your words, “Not sure.” 

♡⸝⸝ ♡⸝⸝ 

The saying “When you know, you know” was always stupid in your opinion. You weren’t sure what it meant in the first place. Logically, it didn’t make any sense. 

And as you walk through your company’s building, heading to your office with Margaret by Lana Del Rey playing in your earphones, you feel like you will never understand it. Because you don’t just know. 

But it doesn’t stop you from being happy. You don’t have to “know” in order to enjoy your time. 

“What’s that smile for?” Chan stops when he notices you in the hallway, a teasing grin on his face you’d recognize from miles away. You roll your eyes at him, taking out your earphones and turning the music off. “Nothin’” you try to brush him off, but you know your eyes give you away. “It’s about the coffee guy, isn’t it? Don’t tell me you went to the café again,” he sighs, sounding almost disappointed. “What’s that supposed to mean?” You frown. He doesn’t answer anymore. Instead he shrugs, accompanying you to your office. 

“Wonwoo,” you mumble as you step into your office. Chan raises an eyebrow, looking at you with confusion, mentally running through your list of clients to see if the name rings a bell. “That’s the coffee guy. His name is Wonwoo,” you explain with a smile. “I ran into him again today.” Your assistant freezes for a moment as if weighing his words carefully. “I’m guessing you didn’t hate him, then?” he asks, settling onto the couch in the room. 

You sit in your chair, opening your laptop, and immediately flashing yourself with the image of the Millers’ project. “He’s nice,” you answer casually. “And has a nice smile.” Chan frowns. “That’s all he needed to charm you?” You roll your eyes, zooming in on the room that was supposed to be for the Millers’ youngest. Thanks to your assistant’s relentless nagging, there are only two rooms left to complete. “Some people go for men just because they have money. So I don’t think I’m that bad.” 

“Yeah, because you have the money.” You glare at him, giving him a warning look and letting him know that if he continues, you’re kicking him out. “Okay, sorry,” he raises his hands in surrender, shaking his head. “I’m just worried. I haven’t seen you obsess over a guy like this…ever.” — “Honestly, that also freaks me out,” you admit, sighing. “He’s just got this aura that pulls me in. I’m not sure why.” Chan hums as a sign of understatement. “Maybe you found a soul to your non-existent one,” he jokes, but you don’t find it funny. “Out.” 

“I didn’t do anything!” He protests. “I need to focus. Out.” You repeat yourself firmly and watch him get up from the couch. “I’m expecting a finished project by tonight, then,” he says, not waiting for your answer and leaving the office. 

Your head hits the back of your chair, watching his back as he leaves. Then your eyes drift to your phone, lighting up due to a new message. Your eyes widen, and you immediately reach for it, smiling at the simple “Hi” Wonwoo left you when you gave him your number. Then another text pops up, and you know you won’t get him out of your head anytime soon as you tell him the time you’re ending today. 

♡⸝⸝ ♡⸝⸝ 

Chan’s head hurts. 

“Tomorrow. I’m serious,” he hisses, and you shut your eyes closed, feeling bad. You got so caught up in playing with Mr. Xu’s project and texts with your new acquaintance that you barely did anything on the Millers’ project even though you knew the deadline was close. “I will get it done tonight,” you promise. “I’ll work on it overnight, and you’ll have it on your desk first thing in the morning so you can show it to them.” 

Your assistant shakes his head, and you know he is disappointed. “Do whatever you want, but get your priorities straight,” your name leaves past his lips, and you gulp down. It’s been long since you’ve been scolded like this, and Chan might be the last person you would expect it from, but a part of you knows you needed to hear it. 

He opens his mouth to speak again, but before he can, the office door swings open, and someone steps into the room. Your gaze immediately lands on the man standing behind Chan, and you can already feel the atmosphere growing awkward. Your assistant turns around to see who just walked in, his confusion evident as he locks eyes with a man he’s never seen. “I apologize, but consultation hours are over. If you’d like a session, you’ll have to come back tomorrow morning.” 

“Oh, I’m not here for–” He tries to explain, but you quickly stand up, grabbing your laptop and jacket as you make your way to the door. “Okay, that’s enough talk for today. I promise I’ll finish the project tonight,” you promise one more time, waving at Chan before grabbing Wonwoo’s arm and leading the way out. You don’t need Chan to know you are hanging out with the same guy who’s been distracting you all day. You wouldn’t hear the end of it then. 

“What was that for?” Wonwoo laughs, following you out of the building. “Long story,” you brush it off. “If that was your boyfriend, then maybe…” — “I don’t have a boyfriend,” you stop him before he can finish his sentence and silently scoff when you see the smile on his face. “Good,” he mumbles. You have to bite your bottom lip to constrain your smile, averting your gaze and pretending you are looking at the interior plans on the walls. 

“Alright, should we go?” He interrupts your thoughts, slightly moving his arm–which you are still holding–to get your attention. You look up at him, nodding. “Where exactly are we going, anyway?” You wonder, but you don’t get an answer to your question. 

“You have a nice car,” you comment when you sit in the passenger’s seat after he opens the door for you. You look around, smiling. It’s been a long time since you last went on a night stroll, and you missed it. The silence, the calmness, the moon, and even the street lights that added a somewhat serene atmosphere. “Do I?” He chuckles. You’re not sure, actually. You never knew much about cars, and all of your previous relationships always made fun of you for it. “That’s funny because Min–” he clears his throat. “My friend,” he corrects himself. “He made a whole joke about it.” — “I was annoyed at first, but now it’s slowly starting to be funny.” 

“Are you close with your friends?” The question might sound lame, and you are aware of it. But after meeting so many people who would have answered with a flat “no,” you can’t help but ask. “Some of them,” he agrees. “I usually keep my circle small.” You smile, “So do I. Well– I know people. But not many of them know a lot about me,” you clarify. “I get what you mean,” he nods. “It’s better that way,” he mumbles, driving off the parking lot. 

A part of you thinks you have found your ideal man when he parks his car again, and you step out. Your eyes widen at the scenery in front of you, and you immediately glance at the man beside you. “This is insane,” you breathe out, and a smile tugs at the corners of your mouth as you take a few eager steps forward. You’re drawn to the railing at the edge of the mountain you’re standing on, where you can finally take in the full scope of the view. 

The landscape stretches far below, the trees barely reaching your height. The air feels lighter up here, and everything around you seems more vivid. This place would be beautiful to watch the sunrise. You can already picture it—the golden light slipping between the mountains, creating shadows on the trees below. It’s like a canvas, a moment you want to paint. 

It reminds you of the painting you lost for a second. You shake your head, snapping out of your thoughts as you turn around to face Wonwoo. At the same moment, you hear the sound of a picture being snapped, smiling when you see him with a camera in front of his eyes, taking pictures of you. “A memory,” he justifies. “And if you let me take you on a second date, too, then I’ll put the picture beside my bed,” he teases you, walking forward to join you. “So this is a first date?” You ask, chuckling when you see him averting his gaze. “If you want to call it that,” he shrugs, trying to be casual about it. 

“I can think of this as a first date, yeah.” 

♡⸝⸝ ♡⸝⸝ 

“Missed me?” 

You turn around when you hear the familiar voice and scoff. “Not really, no.” You turn your back to him again, thanking the waiter as you take a drink from his plate, trying to ignore the presence of another human being right behind you. “Oh, come on,” you can hear the smirk in his voice as he follows you, just like a puppy. You shake your head, glancing his way as he catches up to you, managing to get a drink for himself along the way. “I’m sure you keep thinking about me.” 

“You wish,” you retort. “Then maybe... you keep thinking about my painting, then.” You stop, staring him up and down. “Kim Mingyu, was it?” You ask as if you weren’t aware of who he was. “I’m not sure what experience you have with women, but I can assure you—just because you managed to steal one painting from me doesn’t mean you get a place in my mind. And definitely not my heart,” you fake a smile, and he chuckles, nodding. “I see. But it was enough for you to remember my name, huh?” 

He is unbelievable. Every bit of your body feels triggered when you speak to him, but still, you stay near him for some reason, unable to tell him to stop bothering you and leave. “It was a guess.” — “Yeah, right,” your name leaves his lips, and you have to gulp down. It still sounds as elegant as it did the first time he said your name out loud. 

“Well, m’lady, what are you looking for tonight?” Mingyu asks, following you to the auction hall. “I’d rather not disclose,” you turn him down casually, making his lips turn up into a smile. “Scared I’d go for the same art piece?” You stay quiet because you know he is right. You don’t want to go against him again. “Don’t worry, m’lady, I’m here just to observe tonight,” he leans down to your ear, assuring you. It makes a shiver run down your spine. “Good for you,” you try to sound calm, but you’re currently everything but that. 

As you sit down at one of the chairs, and he takes a place beside you, you rethink your whole conversation. Where did the nickname come from? And why did you have such mixed feelings about it? You felt confused. You were stunned when you felt the tickling in your stomach as he called you m’lady, but you also felt weird about it. You and Wonwoo have been going out now, and he had taken you out on some great dates, so you felt bad for him. You felt wrong about another man calling you nicknames like that.Obviously, you couldn’t say you have spent a lot of time with Wonwoo, or got to know him on a deeper level, but you had a feeling. Your intuition was telling you to go for it. 

“So? Which piece is it?” Mingyu nudges your shoulder, bringing you back to Earth. “What?” You ask confusedly, frowning. “What are you looking to get tonight,” he explains, glancing at the podium with all the things in today’s auction. “I think the vase looks quite nice, but I think you’ll like the flower painting more,” he comments, making you look towards the podium, too. “They are both nice,” you agree. “But in fact, I was thinking of a different painting. The abstract one on the right side. It’s mostly because of the colors.” He hums, and it feels like he’s zoning out, thinking about something. You don’t pay much attention to it, though. You didn’t come here to care about what’s going on through a man’s head. 

Throughout the rest of the auction, Mingyu stays quiet most of the time. He has stuff on his mind. Even a blind would notice that, but you don’t point it out. You’re too focused on the auction happening at the moment to be bothered with him. As long as he doesn’t annoy you, you don’t care what he does. 

“Yes!” You cheer quietly, making him look your way. “I got it,” you smile. “And for cheap.” He chuckles, shaking his head at you. “Good job,” he teases you, and you know he doesn’t mean it literally, but his words still get stuck in your head. 

Is Kim Mingyu trying to flirt with you, or are you just imagining things? 

“So, can we leave now?” 

“We?” You raise your eyebrows confusedly, but before he gets to answer, your phone goes off, causing everyone in the room to look in your direction. “Shit,” you mumble, pressing the decline button as fast as you can. Still, Mingyu catches the caller ID and frowns. Coffee guy <3 ?? Why would anyone name someone like that on their phone? “Tell me no one is looking at me right now,” you whine, staring down onto your lap. “I think everyone is staring,” he proclaims, making you slowly look up. You sigh when you notice everyone is busy with their own things and put your phone on do-not-disturb. 

“Was that your boyfriend?” He wonders. “None of your business,” you shut him down. You don’t intend to be Kim Mingyu’s friend. He’s weird, problematic, self-centered, tall, with tanned skin– No. You shake your head to interrupt your thoughts before they get the chance to go in the wrong direction. Kim Mingyu is problematic and self-centered. You repeat, looking back at the podium to keep your thoughts still. 

“Whatever you say, m’lady.” 

And you fail miserably. He throws you off with just one sentence, and you hate yourself for it. 

You run out before Mingyu can strike up a conversation with you again. You don’t know what his problem is, but you are certain you don’t want to deal with him now. So, instead, you pick up your phone and decide to call your coffee guy. 

“Hi,” you smile when he accepts your call immediately. “I’m sorry for hanging up on you earlier. I was busy,” you explain, but he only tells you not to worry about it. “It wasn’t something that couldn’t wait, don’t worry,” he assures you. “I was wondering if you don’t want to go out tomorrow, that’s all.” You pull the phone away from your ear for a second, checking today’s date as you head toward the taxi you ordered earlier. “Sorry, Wonwoo, I already got plans. And I’m working in the morning,” you apologize, sitting down in the backseat. 

“Actually,” you start, switching your phone from one hand to another so you can fasten your seatbelt. “Maybe you could come with me. My friend is having this party at his house to impress a girl or something. You could meet everyone I talk to when I don’t talk to you,” you chuckle awkwardly, greeting the taxi driver when your eyes meet in his rearview mirror. 

“Get to know your friends?” You notice the hesitation in his voice and panic. “You don’t have to, obviously! It was just a suggestion! If you don’t feel like socializing, it’s all good!” You assure him, shutting your eyes closed when you finish, regretting ever mentioning anything. “No, I’ll– I’ll come with you. I’m sorry if it sounded like I didn’t want to. I was just startled.” You breathe out in relief, opening your eyes again. “Of course, I’d love to meet your friends.” 

At the moment, you don’t pay any attention to his tone of voice anymore, but maybe you should have. It might have been for the better if you didn’t bring him with you, after all. 

Because while you smile on your way back home, Wonwoo, on the other side of the phone, is freaking out. He never intended for things to get this far—he shouldn’t be meeting your friends. That wasn’t the plan. 

♡⸝⸝ ♡⸝⸝ 

Wonwoo tenses when the loud music reaches his ears. He didn’t think people his age threw parties anymore, but he was dead wrong.

As he follows you inside, all he can think of is how bad of an idea this was. Befriending your friends was a terrible idea. What would be next? Hanging out with them in his free time? Talking about you with them? Being your plus-one at their birthday parties? He was fucked. 

He doesn’t even get a chance to think about what he was going to do when you drag him to a group of guys you notice immediately after stepping inside, insisting on wanting to greet them first. 

“You’re all early!” You grin, going in for a hug with your best friend. Seokmin wraps his arms around you, squeezing you tightly before his eyes land on the taller male behind you, a smile creeping up his lips as he lets you go. “And who might this be?” He asks even though he already knows. There wasn’t a conversation he had with you where Wonwoo hadn’t been brought up since you had gone on your first date with him. 

“Ah, I’m Wonwoo. Jeon Wonwoo. I guess I’m her…” he glances at you for some help, but you don’t know what to say either. He isn’t your boyfriend, but a friend sounds wrong, too. “Uhm, yeah,” he looks back at the three guys in front of him, nodding awkwardly as a small laugh leaves his lips. You’re cute. The helpless but excited look on your face you give him when your eyes locked with his is unforgettable. 

“I’m Seokmin, and I guess I’m her best friend,” Seokmin laughs with him, offering Wonwoo his hand. Soonyoung and Jihoon introduce themself shortly after, sending you teasing smiles immediately. You shake your head at them, wrapping your arm around Wonwoo’s to get his attention. “I’m going to find Hansol and get us something to drink. Wait here with them?” Your eyebrows raise in question, mostly asking him if he was okay with spending some time alone with the boys. 

In fact, he isn’t. He doesn’t want to give them a chance to see that there is something off about him, but he still nods for the sake of it all, letting you leave. 

You wander around the house, greeting people here and there that you recognize as Hansol’s friends until you reach the kitchen, where, to your luck, you find the man himself. “Vernon,” you smile, catching his attention. “How have you been?” You ask, walking over to pull him into a hug. “Hey,” he smiles, softly patting your back. “I’m good, except for the fact I haven’t seen Adel around yet,” he answers your question, taking a step back. “I’m sure she’ll come soon,” you smile back at him, leaning on his kitchen island. 

“Do you want anything to drink?” He asks and you nod, looking around to try and see what he has. “I’ve got your favorite champagne. What do you think?” He offers, and you can’t refuse. “Can I also get a beer?” — Hansol frowns, grabbing the bottle of champagne. “I wouldn’t drink both,” he advises. “I’m not stupid,” you remind him, thanking him as you take the champagne from him. “The beer is for Wonwoo. I don’t think he’d appreciate this much,” you laugh, grabbing a glass from his cabinet, along with one for Wonwoo. “Wonwoo?” Hansol raises his eyebrow teasingly, pointing towards the pipe with beer so you can pour it yourself. “You’re not the only one planning to get a partner tonight,” you answer simply, laughing as you walk away. 

Wonwoo, on the other hand, is finally relaxing as he engages in a conversation with your friends. “You make her happy, I’m glad,” Seokmin smiles, looking around to assure himself you aren’t anywhere near them. “She cannot stop talking about you. It gets to the point where it’s annoying,” he complains, and Soonyoung immediately agrees. Wonwoo laughs, awkwardly rubbing the back of his neck. “Hopefully, they are all good things.” 

“Some of them are nice, yeah,” Soonyoung nods, then glares at the older male. “But some…” — “Don’t pay attention to him,” Jihoon interrupts him. “He’s just teasing you,” he shakes his head at his friend. “Yeah, but if you do one bad thing,” Seokmin warns him, staring him down. Wonwoo swallows a lump in his throat. It’s not like he was scared of them. Heck, he could lean on Jihoon’s head if he wanted to, but he feels awful. Because honestly, you don’t deserve anything bad in your life. 

“I don’t want to hurt her,” he proclaims, catching both Seokmin and Soonyoung off guard. Jihoon, though, doesn’t seem much shaken by his statement. He’s smiling at Wonwoo as if he was proud. “I mean– that’s good. You shouldn’t hurt her,” Seokmin nods, glancing at his friends as he tries to find the words he wants. “Well, in that case, what are you still waiting for?” Soonyoung asks, making Wonwoo frown. “I’m sorry?” 

“When are you going to ask her to be your girlfriend? We’ve all been waiting. I don’t think she will shut up about you otherwise,” he explains, prompting him. 

Oh. 

Oh. 

“That’s–” A great question, actually. Something he should have definitely expected to come from them. Of course they wanted to know what his intentions with their friend were. But the truth was, he didn’t know if he could ask you to be his girlfriend. It would only get things messy. It would be for the best if he just did his part as quickly as possible and then disappeared from your life before he could hurt you any more than he already has. 

“You look like you’re about to faint.” — Wonwoo sighs when he hears the female voice behind him, coming to save him. “Are these guys giving you trouble?” This time, it’s a different tone. There are two of them, he realizes. He turns around to see who is behind him, but before he can question the girls’ identities, Soonyoung pulls the slightly taller one into a hug while the other girl greets Seokmin and Jihoon. 

“We are nice to him, don’t worry, Adel,” Seokmin laughs, but her frown makes it obvious that she doesn’t believe him. “Just making sure he knows whose side we’re on,” he grins. “And who exactly is this lovely guy whose life you are making so much harder?” The taller girl asks when she steps back from her boyfriend and greets his two friends. “Jeon Wonwoo,” he introduces himself, sending a soft smile toward the two girls. 

“Ah, I see,” she laughs. “I’m Hanni. Soonyoung’s girlfriend.” — “And I’m Adel,” the shorter one introduces herself, too, before glancing around the room. “Have you guys seen Hansol anywhere? I promised him I’ll come meet him right when I arrive.” 

“I’ll help you find him,” Wonwoo offers, immediately taking his chance for an escape. He just needs to find you and get away from any more of the guys’ questions, and it will be all okay again. “Alright, I’ll see you guys later.” Jihoon nods toward her, sending a smile toward Wonwoo too, to let him know it was okay. He could sense the tension in him, the need for an escape. He couldn’t blame him, honestly. 

Eventually, it’s you who finds the two of them. “Hansol is in the kitchen,” you inform Adel, and she thanks you, leaving the two of you alone and going to find him. “I hope you’re okay with a beer,” you say, handing Wonwoo the drink you got him. “Definitely,” he assures you. “What did you get?” He wonders, glancing at the glass in your hand. “Champagne,” you smile, offering him a sip. “I’m good, thanks,” he shakes his head, smiling back at you. “Hansol said he’ll hide the whole bottle for me, so I have tonight’s drinks secured,” you grin, making him chuckle. “How about we get you that bottle then and go somewhere quieter? There’s too many people for my taste,” he suggests, looking around the room to prove his point. People were everywhere. 

“Yeah…Yeah, of course!” You nod, trying to think of a place to go. “Come with me for the bottle then. If we catch Hansol, I can ask him if we can chill out in his room for a bit.” — “Thank you,” he whispers, still smiling. You shake your head, saying it’s not a big deal. 

Vernon doesn’t seem to have any objections, but you are certain that’s only because he is too busy talking to the girl he likes. Still, you don’t waste your opportunity and grab the champagne bottle before leading Wonwoo to the bedroom. 

Wonwoo sits down on the bed, placing the glass of beer on the floor beside his leg while you close the door, making him immediately sigh in relief when the music damps. He watches your every movement as you place the bottle of champagne along with your glass on the closest table you see before turning your attention to him again. You bite your bottom lip, hesitating as you look him up and down. You take careful steps forward until you reach him, stopping right in front of him. He breathes out your name, and it sends shivers down your spine. “Is it…okay for me to sit down?” Wonwoo frowns in confusion at first, but when he notices your eyes on his lap, he gulps down hard, hesitantly nodding. 

You sit yourself on him, fixing his hair as you gaze into his eyes. At the moment, Wonwoo forgets about everything he promised himself before he met you, unable to resist you when you’re this close to him. His body moves before he can think of anything else, pulling you closer by the waist so he can press his lips on yours. One of his hands grips your waist while he takes off his glasses with the other, trying to think of the beer next to his leg so he doesn’t accidentally kick it down. 

You gently push him down onto the bed, your fingers wandering over his clothed chest while your mouths explore one another, and for a second, you think life couldn’t be any better. That’s only until his phone rings though. “Mhm, wait,” he whines into the kiss, searching for his phone in his pocket. You place a kiss on his jaw instead, glancing at his phone to see who is calling. 

Wonwoo turns his phone off before you can see anything, throwing it to the side as his hands cup your face and he brings your lips back to his. “Who was that?” You ask between kisses. “Friend,” he mumbles back. “I’ll call him in a bit.” You can’t have any complaints when he kisses you so nicely, so you don’t say anything else and let yourself enjoy the moment. 

♡⸝⸝ ♡⸝⸝ 

“Good night,” Wonwoo smiles, and it melts your heart. “Good night, Wonwoo,” you smile back at him, letting go of his hand as you step inside your apartment. There’s nothing but love in your eyes, and it makes his heart ache. “I’ll text you later,” he assures you. He hesitates for a second but eventually steps closer to you again, pulling you into a warm embrace. You wrap your hands around his waist, burying your head in his chest. “Get home safe.” 

When you close the door behind yourself, Wonwoo sighs and takes out his phone, dialing his friend’s number. 

“Where have you been?” He asks impatiently, and Wonwoo rolls his eyes. “Hello to you too, Mingyu,” he greets him, putting his empty hand in the pocket of his jacket as he leaves the apartment building. “I was with her until now, sorry. She took me to her friend’s party,” he explains, making Mingyu frown. It was obvious what girl he was talking about. “You met up with her friends?” He questions, and Wonwoo can already guess what direction this conversation will take. “Okay, look. I don’t think I can continue,” Wonwoo admits, and Mingyu falls silent. “What?” 

“I just…” he starts, but before he can think of the right words, Mingyu speaks up again. “You actually fell for her, didn’t you?” Mingyu scoffs. “You’re unbelievable.” — “Look, it’s not as simple as you think it is. It’s only normal to like someone you’ve been forced to spend so much time with,” Wonwoo argues. “You are the one who got me into this situation.” 

“I got you into this situation?” Mingyu repeats his words with nothing but disgust. “I’ve asked you to get to know her and find her weaknesses, not to go on fucking dates with her and fall for her!” — “I’m hanging up if you want to yell at me,” Wonwoo states, the grip he has on his phone only tightening as he starts getting angry. 

“Sorry,” Mingyu mumbles, leaning back in his chair as he tries to think of what to do next. “So you really won’t do it?” Wonwoo sighs. “I can’t.” What was so good about you? Mingyu wonders. His best friend wasn’t one to fall for just anyone, so there must be something about you. He just couldn’t figure out what it was. Sure, you were pretty and smart. That was something he couldn’t take away from you, but that couldn’t be it, right? “Alright, I’ll do it on my own,” Mingyu sighs, glancing at his opened laptop. “Can you disappear off the scene for a bit?” 

Wonwoo hesitates. He wants to take a step back and calm himself because he knows he can’t actually be with you, but giving Mingyu a free hand scares him. He doesn’t want to see you break apart because of his friend. “What are you planning?” 

“I’m going to befriend her. See if she lets me get closer, and then I’ll figure out something else.” — “Two weeks,” Wonwoo proclaims. “Two weeks, what?” Mingyu asks confusedly. “I’ll leave for two weeks and let you do whatever, but… when I come back, I don’t want to play your game anymore, Gyu. If she wants to be with me, then I want to go for it. Right now, that’s more important to me than any money or stupid art pieces you want.” 

Two weeks. That’s all he gets. Wonwoo won’t give him any more than that.

But two weeks is something Kim Mingyu can work with. 

♡⸝⸝ ♡⸝⸝ 

It was shortly after your third auction when Mingyu sat in his bedroom, trying his hardest not to yell at his girlfriend. 

“Listen, you might think she is just some cheap chick that doesn’t know a shit about money, but I’m telling you, you’re wrong,” he repeats himself. “She knows what’s up.” 

“Oh, come on! No woman is as good as you!” Mingyu frowns when those words leave his girlfriend’s mouth. He always knew she wanted to kiss his ass whenever she got the chance, but now a part of him just felt disgusted. “We don’t have to go through any extra work just because of some slut, right?” You are a slut. The words stop at the tip of his tongue and he has to close his eyes for a second to calm himself. 

It felt funny hearing that from someone as his girlfriend. If it wasn’t for her ability to get into any man’s pants, he wouldn’t be keeping her around anymore. “We do,” he states simply, getting up from his bed with a sigh. She wasn’t there so she wouldn’t know but he saw it, the way you talked, and how all the men around were falling to their knees for you. One wrong move on his side and you could have all his opponents wrapped around your finger. He couldn’t let that happen. 

“Yeah, and what do you want me to do, huh?” Her voice gets louder, and it makes him annoyed. It wasn’t anything new, her voice always bothered him, but for her to have the audacity to raise her voice at him now? She must have gone mad. 

“I don’t fucking know. Eat her out for all I care. Just do what you always do. I’m not buying you expensive shit for you to just sit around and do nothing,” Mingyu tries to stay calm, refusing to fall so low and yell at a woman even though the girl in front of him makes him want to rip out his hair. 

“I can’t play with a woman!” She complains, making Mingyu groan. “For fucks sake, you just can’t do anything, huh?” He runs his fingers through his black hair, trying to think of a plan. “Well, then, it’s great you can do so much!” His girlfriend yells back at him, and Mingyu finally snaps. “Out.” His voice is strong, sending shivers down her spine. “What?” She blinks a few times, suddenly falling quiet. “Get the fuck out of my house. I’m done with you.” 

“Wait– What–What do you mean?” Her voice shakes, and she has to gulp down when she notices his stare. His eyes are full of hate, more than they were ever before. She would be stupid to think Mingyu ever loved her—or even felt anything romantic toward her—but she liked being around him nonetheless and knew Mingyu appreciated her company from time to time, too. Now, though, there wasn’t anything that could convince her Kim Mingyu didn’t hate her with his whole body. 

“You finally hit the final string. I’m done with you,” he explains, not bothering with saying anything else as his head tilts towards the door, telling her to leave. 

Mingyu sighed when he was alone again, lying down on his bed. The sudden silence was new to him, but it helped his thoughts to get running so he didn’t mind. He knew he couldn’t just track you down and try to get closer to you to do the job on his own. You would be an idiot to let him in. So, what else could he do? 

Then it hit him. He quickly sat up, searching for his phone with his eyes. When he finally found it, it took him less than a few seconds to dial his friend’s number. “Hey, Wonwoo, do you think you could come over today?” 

And that was how it all started in the first place. The plotting, the tracking down, all the effort Mingyu put in to figure out the things you like so he could give his best friend the perfect info. Even Minghao. Mingyu thought of it all. While one of his friends got closer to you in your free time, his other friend interrogated your workspace. 

It was perfect. He’s got it all covered. There was no way his plan could fail. He was taking you down. 

Until Wonwoo hit him with the call, and everything fell apart again. 

♡⸝⸝ ♡⸝⸝ 

The following morning, the first thing you did was reach for your phone so you could text Wonwoo. 

You rub your eyes, trying to get them to focus properly as you open the chat with him, your eyes widening when you notice you have a new message. You smile when you see the text, but it fades away again when you read what it says. “What the fuck are you sorry for so early in the morning?” You sit up, hoping this is still just a part of your dream. “You’re kidding me,” you breathe out, pressing the call button and bringing your phone up to your ear. 

“Good morning,” Wonwoo greets you nervously, and you can almost see the way he rubs the back of his neck. “Not exactly a good morning,” you proclaim, waiting for a further explanation. “I’m sorry,” he breathes out. “I forgot about it, and the guys texted me yesterday asking if I was already packed. I couldn’t tell them I am not going.” 

“Don’t you think the timing is a bit insane?” You call him out, scoffing when he can’t say anything in his defense. “And what the fuck is with the message in the first place? I’m sorry. I won’t be able to see you in the next two weeks?” You recite to him what he said. “That’s all I get after everything?” 

“I swear it has nothing to do with what happened yesterday. I– I like you a lot. And I don’t want to leave, not now, but I have to.” 

“What if I don’t believe you?” — “Sweetheart…” he starts, and it makes your heart ache. “Don’t sweetheart me when you left me a fucking message about leaving without any further explanation right after we kissed for the first time.” Wonwoo sighs. He knows he is wrong for doing this, but it’s better than cooperating with Mingyu on his plan to take you down. He can’t do that to you. So he chose the safer choice, even if it might hurt you a bit. 

You sigh as well. “You wouldn’t have called me if I didn’t, would you? You would just leave after one text and not speak to me after, right?” — “I’m sorry,” he apologizes, and it hits you even more when you know you’re right. “Alright,” you nod. “Have fun with your friends.” 

“Wait, no, don’t leave just like that,” he tries to stop you. “Are you kidding me now? You are the one trying to leave just like that! If you don’t want anything to do with me, just say it. No need to hide behind your friends for it.” He wants to explain everything to you, say that he is doing it for your own good, but he can’t. So he stays silent, trying to figure out a different excuse. You don’t give him the benefit of the doubt anymore, though, and when he doesn’t say anything to prove you wrong, you hang up on him. 

You receive a few more texts from him afterward but decide to ignore them. You need space, and the two weeks he decided to take off from you sound like a perfect idea now. 

♡⸝⸝ ♡⸝⸝ 

“I’m sure he didn’t mean it like that,” Seokmin tries to assure you as he walks down the stairs from your loft. “And I am certain he did,” you retort, waiting for him. “Remember how I disappeared for a week when we had that argument?” He reminds you, and you frown. “That’s different.” 

“I don’t think it is,” he shakes his head. “You can’t just stop talking to him because he forgot he planned a trip with his friends.” — “It’s not about the trip,” you argue. “We kissed the night before,” you admit, making Seokmin’s eyes widen. “You what?!” He yells, following you to the door. “Why didn’t you tell me?” 

“I wanted to let it sit for a bit, figure out if it’s what I want,” you answer, sighing as you put on your shoes. “I thought I did, but now I’m hesitating again.” Seokmin leans against the wall as he puts his boots on, trying to find the right words. “Do you like being with him?” — “Yeah,” you nod, sighing when you meet your best friend’s eyes. “And do you want to be with him?” That question is when you hesitate. “I don’t know,” you admit. “I like him and spending time with him, but I’m not sure if what I felt when we kissed was right.” 

You thought kissing him was right, that you were meant to be, but the more you think about the night, the more unsure you feel. In the heat of the moment, you didn’t notice it, but you doubt you felt anything at all. You missed the touch of another human being, and you loved the kiss, but you couldn’t say it would make any difference if it was someone else that night. 

“There’s something good that comes from this trip of his, though,” you say as you walk out of your apartment, Seokmin following you immediately. “I have two weeks now to figure out what I feel. We’ll see if I miss him.” You want to miss him. You want to feel something for him, but a part of you knows you won’t. He had lost you the moment he thought a simple text was all he needed. 

“Can we stop talking about him now? I just want to get breakfast with my best friend and then get to work. Maybe I’ll feel better when Chan yells at me,” You laugh, but Seokmin doesn’t find it funny at all. “Let’s get something good,” he smiles anyway, hoping to make you feel better. “It’s on me today.” 

You and your best friend end up in the same café you’ve been going to for the past month. When the barista asks you if you want your usual, it makes you wonder if you’ve been spending too much on coffee lately. “Can we also get two of those sandwiches, please?” The lady opposite you nods, clicking on a few things on the digital cash register before her before she moves to grab those for you. 

“The handsome guy isn’t with you today?” She wonders as she hands you the two sandwiches along with the two cups of coffee you ordered. Before you can answer her, Seokmin is nudging you out of the way so he can talk instead. “I don’t think he is all that. Honestly, I’m way prettier.” The barista chuckles, nodding. “Of course you are,” she encourages him before telling him the total so he could pay. “Oh god,” you shake your head at him, laughing as you leave the counter and try to find a table. 

“I hope she didn’t think I’m your new date,” Seokmin frowns, sitting at the table in the furthest corner of the café. “Oh, that would be terrible,” you nod, but it’s obvious you’re making fun of him. He rolls his eyes at you, taking his coffee and sandwich from you. “Yeah, it would! You would block my chance of getting any girl, ever.” 

“You’re being dramatic,” you scoff. “And don’t tell me you couldn’t get any girl you want.” — “You’d be surprised,” he mumbles, and all of a sudden, you feel bad for him. “Are we starting an operation ‘get Seokmin a date’?” You suggest, making him laugh as he shakes his head. “Don’t worry about me. I’ll shoot my shot once I find someone I like,” he assures you. “You should worry about yourself now. You were so close to finally getting laid, and now–” You glare at him before he can finish his sentence, making him close his mouth. The teasing look he gives you makes it impossible for you to keep a straight face though, so you end up laughing again. 

“I love you, Min,” you smile. “Sorry—I don’t feel the same way,” he apologizes, with the fakest sad face possible to prove his point, and you know you will never find a better best friend than him. “I love you too, kiddo,” he teases you again, making it sound as if he was years older than you. You shake your head, sipping on your coffee. 

When you get into your office, and Chan isn’t already waiting for you, you feel something is off. For a minute, you wonder if Seokmin didn’t call your assistant and say something to him, but he proves you wrong when your phone rings, flashing you with your assistant’s ID. 

“Yeah?” You ask when you pick up the phone. “Good morning,” he greets you first, glancing at the male in front of him. “I know you have a lot on your plate right now, but do you think you could take on another project?” Another one? At this point, you might go crazy. You already feel behind on everything. You shouldn’t take on anything else. “What kind of project?” You ask anyway, relaxing in your chair as you open your laptop to see all the deadlines you have for now. Chan covers the phone’s microphone for a second, but you can still hear muffled voices as he repeats your question to the new (possible) client. 

“Apparently, he wants you to design the interior for his parents’ living room and kitchen. As a present,” Chan answers, already knowing you won’t refuse that. “Alright,” you sigh. “Send him up, and I’ll see what I can do.” 

“You’re kidding me,” you mumble when you see no one else but Kim Mingyu himself walk through your office door, your assistant right behind him. “Good morning to you, too,” he grins. “I can sit down here, right?” He points at the chair opposite you, not waiting for your reply as he pulls it away from the table to take a seat. Chan’s eyes flicker between the two of you, trying his hardest to figure out what’s going on. “You two…know each other?” He guesses, raising his eyebrows in confusion when you send him a glare. He quickly raises his hands into the air, unsure of what the tension in the room is supposed to mean. He wasn’t one of your exes or something, was he? 

“You could say we do,” Mingyu nods, glancing at your assistant and sending him a smile. “I’m just gonna…yeah,” Chan runs away before he can get himself into any trouble, leaving you alone. You sigh, taking a deep breath before you smile at the black-haired male opposite you. “I heard you want me to design two rooms for your parents?” 

“Well, of course!” He chuckles. “Could I get a paper?” You frown in confusion, reaching for a blank paper on your table and passing it to him. “And a pen,” he adds when you hand him a paper alone. “Thought that was obvious.” — You roll your eyes at him, grabbing your pen and giving it to him. “Look, if you are just here to make me waste my time, you can leave now,” you sigh, watching him doodle something on the paper. “I’m not here to waste your time. I really want you to do this,” he proclaims, sparing you a mare glance before he stares down at the paper again, continuing his drawing. 

You sit in silence for a few minutes, shaking your head at how unbelievable he is while he continues drawing something without saying anything. You consider working on one of your projects while he sits there, but push the thought aside when your eyes land on him again. You just can’t comprehend what he’s doing. Why would he come into your office, saying he has work for you, and then just sit there and do nothing? 

“Okay, I’m done,” Mingyu proclaims, making you look up. “What?” You ask confusedly, blinking a few times to comprehend what he is trying to show you. “The house plans,” he explains, placing the piece of paper in front of you. “I don’t have the original house plans on me since this is supposed to be a surprise. So, I drew it.” 

You think your mind might have frozen for a second. Your eyes widen when you glance down and see what he drew. It looked just like any other house plan. And the fact he just whipped that out as if it was nothing? “Are you an architect? No one is this good without a ruler or anything but paper and pen,” you really try to understand how he did it, but it’s impossible. You are certain none of the architects you know could do this. “I’m not,” he shrugs. “Just an ordinary cook, m’lady,” he smirks, excited that he could impress you. 

“You are not an ordinary cook, I can tell you that.” Mingyu laughs, shaking his head at you. “I did have an interest in engineering before, though.” — “Ah,” you breathe out, nodding. “That’s why you’re insane,” you proclaim, excusing his behavior as if it explained everything. “I’m not insane,” he frowns. You glance at him again, raising your eyebrows to show him you disagree with his statement. “Do you want me to be insane, though? I could.” You sigh when he ruins the moment, just like he always does when he talks to you. “Shut up, and rather tell me what you want me to do.” Mingyu chuckles, his head falling down as he shakes his head. “You’re no fun, sweetheart.” 

You don’t say anything to that, refusing to play this game with him. You know what he wants to hear, but you won’t give it to him. “Alright, alright,” he starts, trying to get serious again, but the smile on his face makes you doubt if he can. “I’m thinking of something cozy. Right now, I feel like my mom is going to bump into something every time she turns around in the kitchen, so something more open would be great,” he gets into a zone as he starts explaining to you how his parents’ house looks, pulling out his phone to show you some pictures. You’re not sure if he didn’t want to just flex though when you see the pictures of him in nothing but grey sweatpants and an apron. 

He tells you everything about what he has in mind, giving you a perfect idea of how the finished project should look by the time he finishes. “Okay, I can do that,” you nod, officially accepting his deal. “With this much information, it shouldn’t take long.” — “Take your time,” he shakes his head. “How much do you charge for consultation and the project itself?” 

“It varies. I can’t tell you the exact price yet,” you answer, writing down a few notes under Mingyu’s drawing of the house, making sure you remember everything the two of you talked about. “Alright, in that case, once you know the final price, just double it and send me the check, okay?” You frown, looking up at him. “What are you talking about?” 

“I guess you could say I’m giving you a hundred percent tip,” he shrugs as if it wasn’t a big deal. “But if you want a different tip, don’t hesitate to ask,” he smirks. You decide to ignore his comment. “I don’t need your money,” you remind him, but that doesn’t seem to budge with him even a bit. “You do,” he argues. “I’m giving you an advantage.” 

 “A what?” You raise your eyebrow confusedly. What was up with Kim Mingyu and his skill of confusing you? “So that the next time we go against each other in an auction, you have enough money to play a little longer,” he smirks, making you scoff. “Thanks, but no thanks,” you retort, annoyed. He shakes his head at you with a smile, standing up. You feel small all of a sudden when he does. It’s not only his height but also the way he stares at you—he makes you feel small. 

You stand up too but it doesn’t help much. Screw you, Kim Mingyu, and your tall ass. “Before I leave, can I get your number?” He asks, chuckling when he notices the look you give him. Honestly, you are cute when you try to stare him down as if he wasn’t towering over you. “I need a way to contact you about the project, you know,” he explains the reasoning behind his question, and you can’t say anything to that. “Don’t you have it already? I wouldn’t be surprised since you tracked down my office so well.” 

“I was just lucky,” he shrugs. “It’s not my fault my friend keeps going on and on about how great you did when designing his house.” A friend of his? “Minghao really likes what you did for his studio,” he praises you, and you finally connect the dots. Mr. Xu. “I–I see,” you stutter, feeling embarrassed immediately. Why on Earth would you stutter in front of him of all people? “You can tell him that I also enjoyed working with him.” Mingyu nods. “I will. Hopefully, you’ll say the same about me when we’re done,” he teases you with a playful wink. “I don’t think I will,” you grin, making him laugh. 

“Alright, my number is on the card,” you proclaim, handing him your business card. “But don’t use it for your personal enjoyment,” you warn him, but it’s as if you didn’t say anything when you wake up to five new messages the following morning from no one else but your new client Mingyu. 

“He’s kidding me,” you whine, rolling to the other side of your bed. You stare at your phone, debating if it’s better to answer or ignore him. Eventually, you decide on the latter. 

“You look…” Chan starts, trying to find the right words so he wouldn’t make you even angrier than you already were. “Annoyed?” He settled for the least offensive adjective that came to his mind, placing your coffee in front of you as you gazed into your laptop, too occupied with work to even look at him. You shake your head, blinking a few times when you sense his presence, questioning what he was doing. “I’m sorry, did you say something?” 

“Are you okay?” He asks simply, making you sigh. “Do you want to talk about it?” You think for a second, eventually moving your laptop aside and pulling the cup of coffee he brought you closer. “Okay, yeah, I’ll take my break now if you actually want to hear about it.” — “Of course I want to,” he assures you. “I’m not only your assistant but also your friend.” 

You love your friends a tiny bit more every time you speak to them. A part of you always thinks you don’t deserve them when they are this nice to you. 

“I didn’t tell you about Wonwoo, did I?” You make sure you start with the right thing, figuring out the answer is no when he gives you a confused look. “Well, you know we’ve been going out, right? A few days ago, we kissed for the first time,” you explain, and his eyes widen in surprise as he leans back onto the couch. “And I thought it was great! We were good and all, but then he texted me while I was asleep,” you sigh, getting irritated again just thinking of the message. “All he said was that he is sorry, but he won’t see me for the next two weeks. No explanation, no nothing. He couldn’t even bother with calling me or something! Instead, I woke up to that.” 

“That sucks,” Chan says, his tone understanding. “I get why you’d be upset. He could’ve told you earlier. And if he really forgot about it, he still could have at least called or stopped by when he was leaving.”

“Exactly!” You exclaim, feeling relieved that he gets it. “Thank you.”

“So, I called him,” you continue, “just to ask what the hell was going on.” Chan nods, following along. “And he couldn’t even explain himself. I asked him straight up if he even wanted to be with me, and he couldn’t answer. So, I hung up, and we haven’t spoken since,” you shake your head with a sigh. “He texted me a few times after that, but it was just him repeating how sorry he was, so I ignored it. Seokmin thinks I should call him, and see what he’s up to, but honestly, I feel like that would just make me look pathetic.”

“You wouldn’t be pathetic,” he assures you. “But I get what you mean. I think you shouldn’t be the one putting in the effort again when he doesn’t give you the same in return. Leave it up to him and see if he reaches out.” 

“What if we never talk again then, though?” You bit the inside of your cheek, your voice merely above whisper, almost as if you didn’t want him to hear. “Then it wasn’t meant to be,” Chan answers honestly, and even though you know he is right, it feels like someone stabbed you in the back. 

“When did this happen?” He carefully asks when you don’t say anything after. “He left two days ago,” you answer, sighing. You’re tired of it all, honestly. “I thought I could work to make my mind get off things, but it’s not working like I would want it to. I feel so much pressure, and it puts a block in my head or something.” 

“How about you relax tonight?” Chan suggests. “Should I take you out? Call everyone and see if they can hang out?” You think about it, eventually agreeing with him. When you are about to open your mouth again and thank him, your phone buzzes, and you grit your teeth as you take a deep breath when you notice who it is from. “And as if all of this wasn’t enough, I have this guy on my back all the time,” you whine, turning your phone around so you wouldn’t have to look at it. 

“Who is that?” He wonders, trying to think of a way to make you feel better.  “Mingyu,” you state, watching your assistant as he tries to keep track of all the names in his head. It’s obvious what he is thinking about when you look at him, and you admire him for his ability to have most of your clients’ names remembered. It was partly why you hired him in the first place. He has a good memory for names and can almost immediately connect people to projects when you talk about it. 

“He also attends auctions, so we met a few times,” you explain. “And then, apparently, since Mr. Xu talked about me so much, he thought it would be nice to ask me to design his parents’ house for him, too.” — “I’m not sure what his deal is, though,” you add, making Chan raise his brows in anticipation. “I don’t know, he just keeps trying to be around me, you know. It’s as if he is trying to get closer to me for some reason. He’s taking every chance he gets to talk to me. He is like a puppy.” 

“Before you say anything,” you warn him, making him laugh as he shuts his mouth again. “I know I usually find that attractive, but that’s when I’m interested. I can’t say that about him. Plus, in his case, I doubt he even means it in that way,” you explain, making sure he doesn’t get the wrong idea. “I mean, sure,” you start again, and Chan scoffs, knowing you are about to refute exactly what you just said. “He does call me by nicknames, but that doesn’t mean he wants me. He just wants to annoy me.” — “Mhm,” Chan hums, laughing. “I’m serious!” You complain. “Let’s just stop talking about it,” you stop him before he can say anything. “About tonight, should I call the guys?” 

“So we are in for it?” He asks, and you nod, smiling at him. “Yeah, it’ll be fun.”

♡⸝⸝ ♡⸝⸝ 

He just can’t leave you alone, can he? 

You sigh when you see Mingyu’s phone number flash on your screen again, this time with a call. You wish you could just decline the call and block his number, but since you are now working for him, you can’t just do that. You hate not being able to win this battle. 

There might be something you hate even more, though. You are not sure anymore if it’s even him you have such a problem with. Maybe, possibly, it’s actually the fact he does everything you wish Wonwoo did. You want him to call you, text you, ask you how you are, just talk to you somehow, but he doesn’t do any of it, and you hate it. You hate Wonwoo, you hate Kim Mingyu, but mostly, you hate yourself for thinking about Wonwoo so much when he doesn’t even care. 

You don’t need him to chase after you—you wouldn’t want that even. But you want to see some effort. You want to know he likes you as much as you like him so you can feel secure. But instead, you feel scared. Scared that he is just going to disappear from your life without a word. 

Maybe he already has. 

Maybe your kiss was actually a goodbye. 

“Yes?” You ask, and Mingyu laughs into your ear. “You don’t have to sound so frustrated because I’m calling you,” he says, leaning back in his chair to make himself comfortable. “Alright, Mingyu, care to tell me what you need before I hang up on you?” 

“Calm down, sweetheart, no need to go that far now.” The snicker that leaves his lips makes you roll your eyes. You just can’t figure out what his deal is. “You didn’t answer any of my messages. I waited for you in the café, but you never showed up.” — “I had work,” you lie. “No, you didn’t. You don’t start work at 7,” he argues, so you try to come up with another excuse. “I don’t, you’re right. I was asleep at 7, and then when I woke up, I went to work right away.” 

“Why are you trying to lie to me? It’s not working,” he proclaims, enjoying the situation a little too much to your liking. He sounds like a stalker. “And why do you care so much? Isn’t it my thing when and what I do? Also, I told you not to call me for your personal stuff, so what are you doing?” — “Well, I had to know if you are okay, obviously. Since you weren’t answering my messages, there was no other way. What if something happened to you and I would have to find a new interior designer?” 

He has an excuse for everything, doesn’t he? 

“Okay, so, let’s say I start answering your texts sometimes. Will you not call me anymore then?” You ask, and Mingyu doesn’t hesitate at all as he agrees, holding onto the chance you gave him once again. 

Always. 

He always finds a way. 

“Then I’m hanging up now,” you proclaim, already taking the phone away from your ear when he yells at you to wait. “If it’s another–” He doesn’t let you finish when he hits you with another question, “What are you doing tonight? Do you want to grab dinner with me since you ditched me for breakfast?” He offers, making your eyes widen. Are you crazy, or is Kim Mingyu actually hitting on you? “I’m busy,” you brush him off. “With?” You close your eyes, taking a deep breath before you speak again. “That is none of your business,” you state. You know as much isn’t enough for him, though, so you continue. “I’m going out with friends.” 

“I could tag along,” he offers, even though he knows he is overdoing it with it. He just needs to use up the time he has in the best way possible. “Definitely not,” you reject him, quickly hanging up before he can say anything else. If he continues like this, the only thing that might help you is going to be a restraining order. 

♡⸝⸝ ♡⸝⸝ 

Your laugh fills the room as Hansol hits his head on your ceiling. Adel, next to you, laughs along, covering her mouth as a snort leaves her lips, her eyes widening in embarrassment as she laughs even harder. “Oh, shut up!” He complains, holding his head as he sits back on your bed, glaring at everyone laughing. “Happened to me the first time I was over, too,” Soonyoung cackles. “Can’t relate to that,” Jihoon says, and in that moment, Hanni can’t hold herself back anymore either, bursting out into laughter as well. 

“I’ll go for the drinks instead,” you shake your head, still laughing as you get up from your bed, walking past everyone and then down the stairs to your kitchen. “I’ll help,” Seokmin joins you, sending one more snicker in Hansol’s way before he runs down to you. 

“Are you okay?” Your best friend asks, opening your fridge to take out more cokes while you grab a bag of chips and whiskey. “Yeah,” you nod, smiling. “I’m having fun. And Mingyu hasn’t texted me since I refused to go to dinner with him. Maybe he decided to leave me alone,” you laugh, but you know it’s only funny to you because you know that’s definitely not the case. “Mingyu as in the Mingyu?” — “Yes. The Kim Mingyu,” you answer, but it sounds like a mockery in your voice unlike when Seokmin said it. “I’m designing something for him, and since he got my number, he keeps bombarding my phone with messages,” you explain. 

“I…see,” he nods confusedly, the grimace on his face giving it away that he is thinking about something. “What is it?” You ask, leaning on your kitchen counter, knowing your friends won’t see you up as quickly as you thought. “I’m just…didn’t you say he looked like he was playing some mind game with you when you first met him?” Right. The first auction where you faced him. It was so long ago—still, you hate that he stole your painting from you. “What if he is doing the same now?” You shake your head, stopping him before he can say more. “It’s fine if he is,” you assure him. “I don’t care what he does. If he wants to flirt with me, then be it, but he isn’t going to get me to do the same. So, he can play whatever games he wants because I’m not going to get hurt by him.” 

“If you say so,” Seokmin nods, his uncertain tone of voice giving away that he doesn’t exactly believe what you said. “Let’s go back up before Hansol decides to go find us and hits himself again,” he laughs, making it impossible for you to keep a straight face. “Hey! I can hear you!” You laugh even harder when you hear Hansol’s voice, falling into Seokmin’s chest to calm yourself down. He pats your back when you do, the coldness of the drinks in his hands making you straighten your back immediately, a whine leaving your lips as you send a glare toward him. He chuckles, shaking his head as he walks out of your kitchen corner, going up into your bedroom again.

“So,” Jihoon clears his throat, exchanging a look with the others before turning his head toward you again, making you raise an eyebrow in question as you place the bottle of whiskey on your bedside table. “Mingyu, we’ve heard?” He asks, and you immediately glare Chan’s way, knowing it must have been him who told them about him. “No,” you shut down the conversation before it can even start. “For the hundredth time, whatever the fuck goes through his mind, isn’t my problem, and I do not care about him in the slightest,” you assure them, but you know Soonyoung doesn’t believe you a bit when he hums as he shares a glance with Adel. 

“I’m sure she would tell us if there was anything,” Hanni takes your side, sending you a warm smile. “But since I do not care about what he does, there is nothing to tell,” you nod, taking a seat on your bed again. “Enough about guys, though. They suck anyway,” you proclaim as if your group of friends didn’t consist mostly of guys. 

You’re happy with how things are, though. You can’t imagine your friend group anyhow differently. They make you laugh and are there for you all the time. What more could you want? 

♡⸝⸝ ♡⸝⸝ 

You wake up to your phone lighting up with new notifications. You roll over to the order side of your bed, slowly forcing your eyes open as you look at your phone. You groan, opening the chat with one of your clients. You debate on blocking him. Maybe you should. It would make your life a lot easier. But as you try to click on the three dots next to his name, you accidentally miss, and press the call button instead. You sigh when he picks up the phone immediately, bringing it to your ear. 

“Why exactly do you want to grab breakfast with me?” You ask, and he chuckles at how tired you sound. “Do I need a reason?” 

“Yes. Yes, you do.” 

“In that case, I want to talk about how the project has been doing,” he reasons. You rub your eyes, glancing at the time on your phone. “That can wait until my working hours,” you argue. “Can’t I just see you then? Why do I need a reason?” 

“You’re unbelievable, Kim Mingyu.” 

“Thank you,” your name rolls off his tongue, the echoing sound shaking in your ears. 

“Okay, when and where?” You finally give in, and you can practically hear the smirk in his voice as he tells you the location of the same café you’ve been a regular in. “Give me fifty minutes,” you tell him, hanging up right after and closing your eyes again. Maybe if you just give him what he wants, he’ll leave you alone. 

“Good morning,” you smile at the barista, looking around the café to see if Mingyu is already there. When you lock eyes with him, he doesn’t hesitate to get up from his place and join you at the front of the line. You scoff quietly, asking the lady opposite you for a cup of iced coffee, as always. “Run it on my card,” he says, handing you his card. “I can pay for myself,” you remind him, but he just brushes you off. 

“And don’t forget to tip the nice lady,” he sends a wink toward the barista, making you cringe. “Don’t mind him,” you shake your head, sincerely sorry for what she has to deal with. “He’s the one I’m the least worried about,” the barista chuckles, running Mingyu’s card through her system. “But you will have to tell me where you get all these handsome guys from later,” she giggles, and it makes you smile, too. “I’ll see you another time,” you say your goodbyes softly, following Mingyu back to his table. 

“I’m not interested, Mingyu,” you proclaim as you take a seat opposite him. He looks up at you, his eyebrows raised with a smug smile on his face. “In?” He asks playfully, making you scoff. “In you. I’m not interested in you,” you state firmly, watching him nod. You hate how unbothered he seems. After trying his all to get a breakfast with you, he doesn’t even care? 

You shake your head, pushing those thoughts aside. You don’t care about it either. You couldn’t care less about what he thinks or if your words hurt him. 

But you are a liar. 

Because deep down, you care more than he does. 

“Yet, you are here with me.” 

“Because you wouldn’t leave me alone.” 

“Or maybe because you want to be here with me.” 

You don’t answer him and just take a sip of your drink. He smirks, reaching for his own drink. “I’m not all that bad, you know. I also have a heart inside my hot body.” 

“And you’ve ruined it,” you sigh, but a chuckle manages to escape your lips. “What? I’m just saying,” he shrugs, laughing. 

As you walk to your company, you look around properly to make sure no building looks weird. 

With Kim Mingyu on your side, making you laugh with his lame attempts at jokes, you feel like this has to be some twisted dream of yours and not reality. But all the buildings look fine, and there isn’t anything out of the ordinary. 

“If you decide to try the new sushi restaurant after all, let me know,” he proclaims, and you end up nodding. Why not? You swore to all of your friends you wouldn’t fall for Kim Mingyu’s charm, but you enjoyed hanging out with him today, so why not go out with him again? “I might,” you agree. His head falls down as he tries to hide his smile, but you notice it. 

“You can go now,” you stop in front of your company, biting back your smile as you look at him. “Thank you for the coffee and waffles.” 

“No problem,” he shakes his head, taking the empty cup of coffee from you so he can throw it away. “I’ll text you again later,” he assures you, but that’s something you’re counting on. 

“Have a good day, Mingyu.” 

♡⸝⸝ ♡⸝⸝ 

On Wednesday, you wake up to Mingyu asking you if you have slept well. 

On Thursday, your phone lights up with messages around lunch time when he asks you if you’ve eaten yet and if you want to grab a bite with him. 

On Friday, you find yourself smiling as you chat about your day with him over the phone in the comfort of your bed. 

On Saturday, you decide to grab breakfast with him again, and laugh loudly when you watch him trip on a flat ground, refusing to look you in the eyes after. 

On Sunday, you spend your day off with your closest friends, but your mind keeps drifting to him every chance you get, wondering what he is up to. 

On Sunday night, you decide to call him. 

Before you can realize it, it’s Monday, and Mingyu is asleep on your call. You listen to the sound of his breath—it’s calm and peaceful, and it makes you feel at home. 

On Tuesday, you forget your phone at home and think about him again as you stare into your laptop, trying to figure out something, anything for the project in front of you. But you just can’t focus. You keep wondering what he is up to. 

On the same night, he insists on having to see you the next day when he couldn’t reach you today. So you plan a meeting, offering that he could come to your office since you need to discuss the project with him anyway. Mingyu agrees immediately.

♡⸝⸝ ♡⸝⸝ 

It’d be crazy to say you understand the saying, “When you know, you know.” 

The saying is illogical and never made any sense to you. But as you walk through your company building with Margaret by Lana Del Rey playing in your earphones, this time, you feel like you know. Like it makes sense. 

“You are smiling, m’lady.” And your smile grows even wider when you see the man standing in front of your office with a coffee in his hands. “And you, sir, are early,” you tell him as if he wasn’t already aware of that. 

“Couldn’t sleep. I kept thinking of you.” — You roll your eyes at how cheesy he sounds, taking out your keys to unlock your office door. “You got so excited because I called you to discuss your project?” You tease him, walking in first when he holds the door for you. “I didn’t expect you to be so into interior designs, Mingyu.” 

“I’m not,” he shakes his head, following you. “I’m into interior designers, and I’m just trying to see if you end up liking me.” 

It’s been a while since you started talking to him, so you got used to his presence. To his constant reaching out to you, to the incoming calls from him, and even to all the flirting. You knew he was pursuing you, and you stopped minding. He wasn’t ugly, and as you figured out over the time you got to hang out with him, he really wasn’t all that bad. 

Maybe you wouldn’t mind liking him. 

“Keep dreaming,” you respond, taking a seat in your chair. “Only if you dream of me as well.” You shake your head at him, looking through your folders until you find his project, showing him the few ideas you got over the past few days, trying to see what he thinks of them. 

When you hide your draft again, Mingyu doesn’t seem to be planning to leave anytime soon. “You got a little too comfortable there, don’t you think so?” You ask, watching him lying on the sofa in your office. “Yeah, I’m going to sleep here for a bit,” he states. “No, you’re not.” 

“Why not?” He whines, pulling himself up again to see you. “Alright, I’ll go,” he proclaims when he sees your face, refusing to mess it up with you now. “But let me take you out for dinner tonight. My place. I’ll cook.” 

“This is how you’re asking me out on a date?” You raise your eyebrow. 

Mingyu smiles, slightly nodding. “Yeah, I’m asking you out on an official date.” 

“Okay,” you also nod, biting back your smile. “I’ll come.” 

♡⸝⸝ ♡⸝⸝ 

“You agreed to go on a date with him?!” Seokmin almost chokes up on his drink as he watches you stand in front of your closet, trying to pick what to wear. You don’t want to try too much but don’t want to show up in sweatpants, either. 

“Yeah…” you admit, turning around to face your best friend. “Is it a crazy idea?” 

Seokmin hesitates. “I mean, I don’t know. If you want to go with him, then you should. But…” 

“But?” 

“Isn’t Wonwoo coming back soon?” He questions, making you freeze. You forgot about that. You were so busy trying to shake Mingyu off your back and then playing along with his game that you forgot about the man you thought was going to be in your future. 

“Me and Wonwoo aren’t dating,” you remind, not only him but also yourself. “And he doesn’t want me either. If he did, he would have texted me or something.” 

“Alright,” Seokmin smiles, and it makes you even more confused. You never know what goes through his head. “If you want to go on a date with him, I’ll support you all the way.” 

“Thank you.” 

“No problem,” he shakes his head, walking closer to you and looking at the mess in your closet from behind your shoulder. “I get that you are worried,” you start, turning around to face your best friend again. “I don’t know what his intentions are, and I know I haven’t been hanging out with him long, but he makes me feel nice. I’m drawn to him for some reason. More than I ever was to Wonwoo.” 

“That’s all that matters,” he nods, making you smile. You’ve cared for Seokmin with your entire heart, and you knew it was the same for him. “Alright, get ready already so you’re not late,” he chuckles, turning you around and gently pushing you closer to your closet. You laugh, balancing yourself on your feet so you won’t fall. 

While you are getting ready, Mingyu, on the other side of the town, is currently running around his kitchen, making sure he has prepared everything. Honestly, he wasn’t sure what had gotten into him. Preparing a dinner for you was the last thing he thought he’d be doing when he decided on this whole plan. 

“What is it, Hao? I don’t exactly have the time right now,” he asks, putting his phone on speaker while finishing up the main dish. “Fuck, I’m not even dressed, and she is going to be here soon,” he curses, catching his friend’s attention. “Who is going to be there?” Your name falls off Mingyu’s lips before he can even think about it as he grabs his phone and runs to his room to grab a shirt. 

“You two…are hanging out?” Minghao asks after a moment of silence, trying to figure out what is going on. “Yeah, we’ve got a date,” Mingyu replies, unbothered as he quickly scans his closet to find his lucky button-up. Then he stops. Why on Earth does he care so much? Why does he need his lucky button-up when he has a date with you? “A date?” Hao exclaims, and Mingyu doesn’t need to see him to know he is shocked. “I’ll…explain later. Why did you call?” 

Minghao clears his throat, confusedly looking around as if he was trying to remember what he wanted to say. “Coups and Jeonghan took us out to play basketball, but I guess I don’t need to ask you if you want to join anymore since you have plans.” 

“Shit, tell Cheol that I’ll make it up to him later. We can grab beer next week. Have a get-together or something,” Mingyu suggests, his eyes finally landing on the piece of clothing he was looking for. “I’ll let them know,” his friend agrees. “If anything, I’m just a call away.” Mingyu smiles, nodding before he says his goodbyes. He throws his phone on his bed and runs to his bathroom to get his perfume. 

He might have gone crazy, honestly. He couldn’t comprehend how his best friend could fall for you days ago, and now, he was trying to be perfect for a date with you. For all he knows, you might have cast a spell on him or something. He went into this thinking he had nothing to worry about, that he would wrap you around his finger with ease and do whatever he wanted with you, but now it seemed more like it might be the other way around. For the past week, he couldn’t get you out of his head. No matter what he was doing at the moment, if he was at work or home watching the TV, you were always on his mind. 

“What the fuck,” Mingyu breathes out as he stops in front of the mirror in his bathroom, looking at his reflection. “You aren’t falling for her, are you?” He asks himself. He stays quiet after that, taking a deep breath. “You fucking idiot, this isn’t what you planned. You aren’t supposed to like her!” He wants to yell at himself more, get himself back in his place, and not do anything stupid, but before he can even try to do something about his feelings, his doorbell rings, announcing your presence. He closes his eyes for a second, calming himself down before turning on his heel and heading to the door. 

“Hi,” Mingyu smiles at you, completely forgetting what he was yelling at himself for when he locks eyes with you. “Hey,” you greet him, the words barely making it past your lips as your eyes land on his body. His dark blue button-up wraps around his muscles, his black pants staying up thanks to his belt, and his hair fluffy. He’s hot. 

You hardly get the chance to breathe when you step inside before he is behind you, helping you out of your jacket. You don’t expect it. Anyone could guess that from your expression, but you can’t say you would mind. “It smells great here,” you comment, smiling as you turn around to face him. “I told you I’m just a cook,” a chuckle escapes his lips as he points towards the kitchen, letting you walk first. 

You keep looking around the house as you walk, admiring his choices of decoration. He definitely doesn’t have bad taste. “This is nice,” you nod, your fingers softly brushing over the paint on his wall. “I didn’t expect your house to be so…” 

“So what?” 

“Clean? Fancy? All of those above?” 

“What? Just because I’m a guy, my house can’t be clean?” 

“That’s not what I meant,” you shake your head, but deep down, you know he is right. He might be the first guy you’ve seen to have such a nice place. All of your ex-boyfriends looked like they never cared about how messy their places were, and it was always your biggest deal-breaker. So, seeing a change for once felt nice. 

“I also play sports, you know.” You scoff when you hear him, knowing very well what he is trying for. “And what’s that supposed to mean?” You ask, turning around. Mingyu doesn’t notice your turn in time and bumps into you, swallowing the lump in his throat as he steps back again. What does he mean? He isn’t sure. All he is certain about is that being this close to you doesn’t do him anything good. “You want me to tell you just how perfect you are?” Your words reach his ears only barely. He hears you, and the tone of your voice gets stuck in his head, but he isn’t able to comprehend any words. 

“I– I should get the champagne bottles I bought earlier! Make yourself at home in the meantime,” he quickly changes the topic, running off before you can say anything. You laugh at him, grinning at the thought of the blush you saw creep up his cheeks. You shake your head at him softly, turning around again to finally reach the kitchen. 

“I asked your assistant earlier—by the way, for some reason, I think he hates me—but he said you liked this one, so I’m hoping he didn’t just play with me.” You look up when you hear Mingyu’s voice again, smiling when you notice the bottle in his hands. “Don’t worry, he didn’t play you. That’s my favorite,” you assure him and chuckle when you see his shoulders relax. “Okay, good,” he exhales. 

“And he doesn’t hate you.” 

“I’m sure he does,” he argues with you. “He sounded more annoyed than you ever had when he picked up the phone and realized it was me.” 

“Do you want me to put in a good word for you? It’s true that I might have done the opposite before, and now he is…wary about you.” 

“You’ve spoken badly of me?” Mingyu’s eyes widen as he places two plates with the dish he made before on the table, two glasses and the bottle of champagne following right after. “Careful, m’lady. My feelings will get hurt.” 

You scoff. “That was before.” 

“Before?” The curiosity in his voice makes you gulp down. It feels pure. You are unable to find any bad intentions in his behavior, and it scares you. “Before…you’ve won me over,” you admit, looking down at your plate as you take the first bite, hoping he won’t dig much into it. 

“I’ve won you over?” He tries to bite back his smile but fails. “Don’t flatter yourself too much now, though,” you warn him. “Doesn’t mean you can’t lose me again.” 

The time seems to flow faster when you’re with him. You finish dinner and stay at the table, slowly sipping on champagne while talking. You barely register how time goes, and before you can realize it, the night turns into another day. 

“Shit,” you mumble, looking at the time on your phone. 1:27. “What’s up?” He wonders, slowly getting up to clean up the plates. “The time! Seokmin is definitely asleep by now, so I can’t call him to pick me up,” you complain. “Oh god, I should have been paying more attention,” you whine, closing your eyes and turning your phone off again. “You know, you can sleep here if you want to.” Your eyes widen at his offer, and a part of you is glad he has turned around at the moment and can’t see your face. “I don’t wanna–” 

“You can’t bother me,” he stops you before you can finish. “I can sleep on the couch and leave you the bed. It’s fine.” 

So you end up in his shirt and boxers, lying under his blanket while he lays next to you, telling you a story from his past. It makes you smile. “It’s late,” he comments quietly, sitting up. “I’m going to go to the living room.” You hesitate, but when he turns to get up, you reach for his hand, your fingers wrapping around the muscles on his arm. “I– what if you stay?” 

“You…want me to…” You nod, and that’s all he needs to lay back down. He’s also in his pajamas now, which, for some reason, only consists of pants. He pulls the other side of the blanket over himself, not taking his eyes off you as he does so. You can’t look away either, trying to read everything that hides behind his eyes. 

The moment is quiet, needy, and intimate as you reach your hand up to his face, your fingers brushing over his cheek. He leans into your hand, his eyes closed as he gets comfortable. You can feel your heart in your throat as you watch him, too scared that if you blink, he’ll disappear. 

When Mingyu opens his eyes again, it feels like his heart skips a beat. Being so close to you, looking you in the eyes, he knows exactly why Wonwoo fell for you in the first place. “Can I kiss you?” He asks carefully, and it feels almost vulnerable. As if he would break if you said no to him. “Please do,” you nod, and his arms wrap around your waist, pulling you closer to himself before his lips land on yours. The kiss isn’t rushed or harsh. It’s deep, full of all the emotions neither of you are able to say out loud. 

His hand slides down your thigh, glazing over your—his—boxers. His other hand slides up your shirt, stopping right under your breasts. Your gasp upon feeling his cold fingers on your skin gets muffled in the kiss, making him groan. “You can–” your sentence gets swallowed when his lips crash with yours again, this time with more need, almost desperate. His hand finally moves up again, squeezing your breast. He rolls you on your back, one of his hands reaching for yours while the other massages your boob, still unable to leave your lips alone. 

“I can?” He taunts, his lips moving to your jaw, slowly making their way to your neck and then collarbone. “Tell me, what can I do?” Your moan comes out shaky, your free hand sliding up his back, tracing his naked skin. “Anything– everything– God, Mingyu,” you gasp when he presses his knee against your core, your hand squeezing his. “Everything?” He hums against your skin, his kisses lowering to your chest. “So, can I take this off?” You nod impatiently, every inch of your body needing him in a way you couldn’t quite understand. “Please, hurry,” your plea sends shivers down his spine, but one part of him, in particular, feels it the most, and his cock twitches in his pants. Fuck. 

Mingyu slides your shirt off with ease, his eyes landing on your perky nipples immediately. “We shouldn’t,” he mumbles, but his actions don’t align with his words as his tongue licks your right nipple, his left hand taking care of the other one. “Definitely,” you agree, your head thrown back and moans leaving your lips. You’re not even sure what you agreed to at the moment. He could have told you he was the president of the United States for all you knew, and you wouldn’t be able to argue with him. “But god, you are so hot.” 

“Mingyu, please–” He hums against your skin, his pants becoming tight as he feels the boxers you’re wearing getting soaked under his knee. “What do you need, princess?” — “Need you,” you admit, moving your hips up and down. It’s embarrassing how wet you are when you are still clothed, and he is barely touching your pussy. He’s spent all the time playing with your boobs as if they were the greatest he’s ever seen, and even though he was incredible at worshiping your breast, the lack of attention on the bottom part of your body was starting to make you crazy. “Need your cock, so bad.” 

He groans, cursing under his breath as he sits up. “I don’t think I have a–” Before he can finish his sentence, you’re grabbing onto his hand, stopping him. “Go in raw. I’ll take the pill in the morning,” you assure him. “Please.” You sound desperate, and it’s safe to say Mingyu’s head spins because of you. If your needs contained his raw cock he couldn’t tell you no. Not that he would want to, anyway. 

He throws away your boxers without a second thought, the piece of clothing ending up somewhere on the floor where he’d have to find it in the morning. “Fuck,” he curses, freeing his dick right after when he sees just how wet you are for him. His fingers slide up your folds, collecting as much of your wetness as possible. “Shit, do you know how desperate you look for this?” He asks, bringing his fingers up again for you to see. “Maybe you are as desperate, actually, aren’t I right?” 

You feel embarrassed but nod despite it, unable to say anything as he slowly pushes his two fingers into you, his thumb rubbing slow circles on your clit. Your hand squeezes the bed sheets under you, your legs closing themself on their own, which only makes him hold them open. “It’s only my fingers for now, princess. You can’t lose your mind yet,” he coos, adding a third finger as his movements quicken, indeed making you lose your mind. 

“‘S too much! Too–” your voice breaks in the middle, and the only sound that leaves your lips after is a mixture of whines and moans, signaling just how good he makes you feel. “‘S okay, baby,” he coos. “I’m going to give you what you want in a second.” He pulls out his fingers, bringing them to his lips. “You taste so fucking good.” You feel like a drug. Every time he looks at you, he wants more. He needs you. In every way possible, and he will do anything to have you, no matter what anyone else says. 

Mingyu groans as he pushes the tip inside, reaching for your hand. You squeeze his hand immediately, wrapping your legs around his waist and trying to pull him closer. It works, somehow, and you feel another inch in you. The moment is like an impulse for him, a sign that you are ready, making him thrust his entire length into you. “My cock fits in your pussy so perfectly, fuck.” 

You are a drug. He is so confident in it when he slams his hips against you, filling the room with his groans while you moan his name, begging him to slow down. He can’t, though. You make it impossible for him. With the way you squeeze him inside, it feels like you don’t want him to pull out of you in the first place. “Mingyu! Wait, I’m–” His curses reach your ear as he leans down, pressing his lips on yours and squeezing your hand tighter. “I’m close too,” he groans, stealing another kiss from you. “Do you want me to–” 

“Inside,” you mumble before he can finish and he nods. 

His thrusts slow down, becoming sloppy as he reaches his orgasm, releasing inside your tight hole. He feels you cum right after, making sure to thrust a few more times to let you ride out your orgasm before he pulls out, watching as the mixture of his and your cum slides out. “You’re so fucking hot,” he praises, falling beside you. You chuckle, trying to catch your breath. His hand wraps around your waist, keeping you as close as possible as he closes his eyes, taking a deep breath along with you. “I can’t believe I ever convinced myself to hate you,” he mumbles, and you hear him slowly falling asleep. You close your eyes, your fingers tiredly tracing his arm as you think of what you just did. 

You had the best sex of your life. That’s what you did. 

As you glance at Mingyu’s sleeping figure, his sweaty hair falling in his face, you know you can’t let him go. 

But that only applies if he doesn’t do anything stupid.

♡⸝⸝ ♡⸝⸝ 

You sit in your office with so many tabs opened on your laptop that you’re surprised it hasn’t crashed yet. It’s like any other day. You’re busy with work, barely having time to take a break and drink. But this time, it’s different after all. 

Because, on the other side of your office, Kim Mingyu is lying on your couch, a sketchbook in one of his hands and a pen in the other. You smile when your eyes wander to him. “Do you want to get out of here?” You ask, and he immediately turns to you. “Please, I’m so hungry.” You laugh, saving everything before closing your laptop and getting up. “Will you cook for us again if I let you sleep in my apartment tonight?” His eyes light up, and he nods instantly, jumping up from his place. He’s next to you before you can blink, making you giggle as he wraps his arms around you and places a kiss on your shoulder. “You know I’d do anything for you.” Yes, you do. Still, you don’t mind finding yourself an excuse to ask him to sleep over. 

“Let’s go,” you smile, offering him your hand. Mingyu intertwines his fingers with yours without hesitation, leading the way out of your office. 

Your laugh fills the hallway as you walk towards your apartment, hand in hand with your lover. Your laugh rings loud and clear in his ears, bringing a smile to his face as well. At least until he takes his eyes away from you and sees the man sitting by your front door. 

“Wonwoo?” You call out to him, making him look up immediately. Shit. Mingyu couldn’t be more fucked. Your name leaves Wonwoo’s lips without hesitation, and he quickly gets up from the floor. His suitcase is right next to him, meaning the first thing he did was stop by your apartment. “What are you doing here?” 

“Wha– Why are you with him?” Wonwoo doesn’t answer your question and gives you one instead. You blink quickly to make sure you heard him right, trying to figure out why he cares in the first place. You open your mouth to answer him, but no words leave your lips as your attention shifts to the man beside you when he lets go of your hand. You raise an eyebrow at him in confusion, looking up to meet his eyes. “You didn’t actually– He didn’t– Are you that stupid?” Wonwoo spits out, the disappointment in his voice hitting you hard. “What?” 

“Wonwoo, don’t.” Mingyu tries to stop him, his eyes desperate. “Is this how he played you? With his fucking puppy eyes?” 

“What are you talking about?” You ask, now even more confused, trying to figure out what the hell was going on. “Wonwoo, we ended that morning. I don’t know what you think you can get from this, but it won’t work. I’m happy now.” Your words dig right into his heart, and you notice him swallow hard as if he had a lump in his throat. “Happy?” Wonwoo mocks your words, scoffing. “Because Mingyu told you some stories? Because he pushed me aside to play with you as if you were just his little toy–” 

“Wonwoo, that’s enough,” Mingyu interrupts him, his fist clenched, and he has to hold himself back to not hit his best friend right then and there in front of you. “No, it’s not enough at all!” He argues. “This was never supposed to happen! I never should have fucking left!” 

“But you did! And it’s not my fault she found out just how much better I am.” 

Wonwoo grits his teeth, his fist clenching just as Mingyu’s is. “Are you fucking–” 

“What the fuck are you two talking about?” You stop them, your eyes flicking between the two men. “How do you know each other?” 

“Baby, let me explain,” Mingyu starts immediately, making Wonwoo frown over the nickname. “It’s complicated, but– just don’t listen to him,” he tries to think of a way he can explain everything to you, but everything he thinks of only puts him into worse shit than he already is. 

You ignore him, feeling your heart slowly breaking apart as you glance at Wonwoo. “What the hell are you talking about?” Wonwoo sighs, opening his hand again when his eyes land on you. He hates seeing you this hurt, but he is sick of Mingyu and his toying with everyone around him. He might be his best friend, but that doesn’t give him an excuse to keep putting himself in front of the needs of others. He won’t stand that anymore. Not when you’re involved. 

He hesitates, glancing at Mingyu before he looks at you again, taking a deep breath. “I’m not going to be the one to break your heart,” he shakes his head, refusing to answer your question. “Let him explain everything. You made it pretty clear I’m done here,” he says, grabbing his suitcase. His eyes linger on you a bit more before he closes them, opening them again when he turns toward Mingyu. “Sometimes, being your best friend hurts.” 

Mingyu’s eyes soften, his heart breaking just as much as Wonwoo’s when those words leave his lips. “Wonwoo…” he starts, but the man is already on his way out, refusing to hear him out. “Fuck.” 

“This is a fucking bullshit,” he whines, hitting the ground as he squads down. You flinch, kneeling down to him and taking his hand to see if he was okay. “I’m so sorry,” he apologizes, and you already know whatever he is going to tell you will break you. “What was this all about?” You ask, even though deep down you don’t want to know. A part of you would rather live in the illusion of how perfect Kim Mingyu is than get hurt by him. 

“I–” he hesitates, looking up to see your face before he continues. He sighs, squeezing your hand in his as if it was supposed to ease the situation. “Uhm, back when you met Wonwoo in the café…that was my doing,” he explains, making your ears ring. The words only flow from his mouth after that, continuous apologies leaving his lips as he tries to excuse his behavior, tell you that it all changed when he actually met you, that it’s all in the past. But it isn’t. You’re only finding out about it now. It’s in your present, and you can’t ignore it. You move your hand back away from him, your look broken when he gazes into your eyes again. It breaks him, maybe even more than it breaks you. 

“Wait,” he tries to stop you, saying something about making it up to you, but you barely register any of his words as you get up, running away from him. You don’t know where you’re going or what you’re going to do. You just need to get away. Run from everything he just told you, from all the lies and games you have been a part of. 

You let your feet take you to the safest place you can think of at the moment—the person who was also your home. 

“What happened?” You don’t answer. Instead, you run into his arms, closing your eyes shut and trying your best not to cry. “Shh,” your best friend coos, rubbing circles on your back. He doesn’t need to know what happened, not now when you’re in this state, but he’ll make sure to ruin someone’s life when he finds out. 

♡⸝⸝ ♡⸝⸝ 

It feels like you still have the knife stuck in your back when you sit on your best friend’s couch, a blanket wrapped around you as you wait for him to finish cooking lunch. You stare into nothing, your vision getting blurry as you think back to yesterday. His words ring in your ears again, and you feel like throwing up. 

I just wanted to find out more about you. I thought I needed to get you out of the picture to keep my title as the legend. I was scared of you. But then I met you—and I couldn’t– I can’t hurt you. I like you–

You shake your head, getting him out of your thoughts and turning around to see your best friend. He’s humming a song as he watches the oven to make sure he doesn’t burn anything, and it makes you smile. Who cares that your love life is terrible—you still have the greatest friends. Screw Kim Mingyu and Jeon Wonwoo, you can live without them. 

But your body says something else. You don’t feel like eating or even standing up to go out. All you want to do is lay in your bed and sleep. For as long as you can. 

“Hey,” Seokmin’s voice makes you snap out of your thoughts, questioning with your eyes what he needs. “At least drink some water,” he says, pushing a full glass in front of you. “It’ll be alright. This isn’t the end of the world,” he reminds you, and you hum. You know that. Of course you know that, but you can’t help it. You’re all over the place, and you hate that it was Mingyu who got you into this state. 

“Should I invite the others over? Maybe that could cheer–” 

“God, no,” you interrupt him. “I don’t want them to see me like this.” Your best friend nods, thinking over it. “What about Chan? Should I give him a call? Say you won��t come to work?” You hum again. It feels like a burden even to speak up. “Should I also explain what happened?” He hesitates as he asks you, and you hesitate as much when you answer. “You can,” you nod. “He’d call me anyway to ask about it if you wouldn’t give him a reason, so at least that gives me a call less,” you joke, but somehow, it only makes you feel worse. “I should go home,” you sigh. 

“Hey, relax,” he shakes his head. “You don’t bother me here, you know that. You can stay here for as long as you need,” he assures you. “I know,” you mumble, playing with the food on your plate. “Still, though. I need to work even if I won’t come to the office.” 

Seokmin sighs, trying to think of a solution. However, he gives up when he sees your expression. Maybe it would be better to leave you alone for a bit, let you rest, and figure out whatever you need. So he agrees in the end. “I’ll drive you later.” 

♡⸝⸝ ♡⸝⸝ 

As you lay in your bed, staring at the ceiling, your mind drifts off to him again. It makes you feel sick. 

You’ve never felt like this over anyone. In the past, when you had your heart broken, sometimes worse than this time, you cried about it for a bit and then collected yourself again, but this time, you can’t even cry. Everything about this feels wrong. Everything about Mingyu feels wrong. 

Yet, you never wanted to be closer to him. 

♡⸝⸝ ♡⸝⸝ 

You have a missed call from Seokmin and Chan when you wake up the next morning. You decide to ignore it and roll over to the other side of the bed. You don’t have the energy to deal with them or anyone else. 

As you sit in your bed later that day, with plans of the Kims’ house, something in you breaks completely, and you don’t think anyone will be able to fix it again. 

♡⸝⸝ ♡⸝⸝ 

“Come on, open the door, please.” You groan when you hear your best friend’s voice from behind the door. “You know I have the keys!” He reminds you. You glance at the door, sighing as you get up from the couch, and open the door for him. Your eyes land on the three guys behind him, and you regret it immediately, glancing down at your pajamas. You close your eyes, taking a deep breath before you cross your arms over your chest, mostly to cover your hardening nipples from the cold air. “Why are you all here?” 

“Because we care about you,” Soonyoung speaks up, the sadness in his voice painfully obvious. You stand there for a second, rethinking your options before you step aside, letting them walk inside. “Wait here, I’m…going to change,” you inform them, not forgetting to send Seokmin a glare before you run upstairs, ignoring their chatter as you get to your closet. 

You glance over your back to what they are doing, closing your eyes as you already regret the question you’re about to ask. “Can you guys turn around?” For some reason, you feel embarrassed, and you guess Chan does too when you notice his ears turning slightly pink. Having a loft apartment was nice—until you had people over and couldn’t change without having to worry about them looking up and seeing you naked. Neither one of them protests and immediately listens to you. 

“Okay,” you sigh, walking down the stairs. “So, again, why are you here?” You ask, and the four boys face you again. “We were worried,” Jihoon comments. “You haven’t been picking up any of our calls,” Seokmin complains. “Sorry,” you mumble, taking a seat on your couch again. “I wasn’t feeling like it,” you say, but you know it doesn’t excuse anything. “That’s fine,” Soonyoung assures you, sitting beside you. “But a text would still be nice. To know you’re alive.” 

“I’m sorry,” you apologize again and catch the four boys exchanging a glance. “I’m feeling a lot better now,” you lie. You have barely gotten out of bed for the past week, only going down to your kitchen when your stomach was being annoying about wanting food. You weren’t sure why you were feeling like this—so messed up and incapable of anything. 

Actually, you knew why. You just didn’t want to admit it. 

You couldn’t bear the thought of Mingyu, the man you felt so close to, using you as if you were his toy. 

“We brought you sushi,” Chan holds up a bag in his hands, making you smile. At least you knew these men weren’t here just to toy with you. 

“He’s been calling me,” you mumble between your bites, making all of them look up at you. You notice Soonyoung mouthing “Who?” toward Seokmin, and your eyes widen. He hasn’t told them anything. A part of you feels thankful, but you also feel bad for leaving them out of it and not mentioning anything when they are here now, doing their best to make you feel better without even knowing what got you into this state. 

“Uhm,” you clear your throat, getting the attention back to yourself to explain it. “Wonwoo came back, and when he saw me with Mingyu, they started arguing,” you start, scrunching your eyebrows at the memory of it. “Turns out they are best friends—or were at least,” you correct yourself, unsure of what happened to them after Wonwoo dropped the bomb on him. 

“And also, Mingyu has been playing a fucking game with me from the start.” You spit the words out. But as angry as you are at him, your eyes soften when you remember him kneeling there in front of you, apologizing. You hate that, partly because you think he actually meant it. “Like…” Soonyoung starts hesitantly, but before he can finish his question, you continue. “Ever since we were in the café and bumped into Wonwoo. Mingyu was the one who sent him there to get closer to me.” 

It’s quiet after that, and the pity in their eyes makes you feel sick. You don’t want that from them. It makes you feel even worse when they look at you like that. 

“And now he is blowing up my phone. He said–” your voice breaks, and you stop to take a breath. “He said that was before he fell for me. That he likes me and wishes to take everything back.” — “Wonwoo also texted me. He apologized for ever being with Mingyu on the plan and for leading me on at first.” 

“Assholes,” Soonyoung sighs, receiving a look from Chan immediately. “What? I know damn well you guys are thinking it too!” He protests, not understanding why he’d glare at him like that for voicing his opinion. You chuckle, watching Chan’s freaked-out expression as he tries to shut him down. “It’s fine,” you shake your head. “I don’t want you guys to just sit here in silence while I talk.” Chan inhales but doesn’t say anything to that. 

“He also asked to meet up,” you add. 

“Who?” 

You roll your eyes, a chuckle leaving your lips. Does he have to make it sound like you have been seeing a handful of people at once? 

“Wonwoo,” you explain. 

“Do you think you’ll go?” Jihoon asks, finally speaking up too. He’s been trying to stay silent, listening to what you have to say without having comments that might make you feel even worse. You think about it for a bit, eventually nodding. “Yeah, probably. I…want to hear him out.” He nods to you, agreeing. 

However, Chan seems to have a different view of the situation. “Seriously? After everything, you want to see him and hear him out?” You know he doesn’t mean it like that, but it sounds like a laugh in your face. 

“Chan–” Jihoon tries to stop him before he can say something stupid, but he doesn’t seem to get the hint. “Both of them have been assholes to you, and that’s the nicest way to put it, and you still want to have anything to do with them?” He means well, you convince yourself, but can’t get over the fact of how mockery he sounds. “Come on, don’t be stup–” 

“Enough,” Seokmin interrupts, his voice strong. Your eyes wince, and you glance at him. “It’s okay, Min,” you assure him, surprised at his sudden reaction. “He can have his opinion.” 

“But he doesn’t need to be rude with it.” 

“I’m…sorry?” Chan’s eyes widen, looking at Soonyoung for some sort of help. “I just– It feels weird seeing you so out of place,” he glances back at you. “I’m not used to it, and it makes me worried. I don’t want it to get any worse, so I’m looking out for you.” Your eyes soften, and you send a smile his way. “I know, Chan,” you assure him. “But I’ll be okay. I promise.” 

And you’re confident you will because Wonwoo isn’t a bad person. You know you don’t have to worry about meeting him, which sadly isn’t something you can say about Mingyu. You know that if you were to meet him, you’d probably fall into an even worse place than you already are. 

♡⸝⸝ ♡⸝⸝  

As you walk through the door, the smell of baked cookies hits you immediately, and a smile curls up your lips. The cozy place makes you feel at home. Without you realizing it, the coffee shop turned into your comfort place over time. And so did the sweet lady behind the cash register, who always greets you with a smile. 

“Good morning,” she smiles warmly. “Good morning,” you greet her back, smiling just as much. “Caramel macchiato?” She wonders, and you nod. “Add extra sugar, please.” She chuckles, nodding as she makes a note of your order before passing it to her colleague. “He’s sitting over there,” she informs you, trying not to be obvious as she points toward the table of two you usually occupied when you came here with Wonwoo. “Thank you,” you whisper back. “I hope you have a nice day.” 

“Hi,” you greet the boy with glasses as you take a seat opposite him, placing your cup of coffee on the table. “Hey,” he looks up with an awkward smile. He opens his mouth to say something but closes it again right after. “What is it?” You raise your eyebrows confusedly. He shakes his head, and it’s supposed to be a sign for you to drop it, but your expression doesn’t change, so he sighs. “You look good,” he admits so quietly you almost don’t hear him. Almost. 

His comment gets stuck in your ears, the words echoing in your head. You look down at the table, hating what goes through your mind at the moment. Wonwoo is sweet, and you know the last moments you spent with him were real—probably more real than anything you ever had with Mingyu was, but you just can’t bring yourself to him anymore. Not because of the situation he got you in or because of what he did, but because no matter how much you want to protest, your heart belongs to his best friend now. And it will for a while. 

“Thank you,” you mumble, hiding yourself behind your cup as you take a sip of your iced drink. “I know you didn’t come here because you’d want to hear those words from me, but that doesn’t change the fact I mean it.” You smile, gazing into his eyes for a brief second. “I know you do, Wonwoo,” you nod slightly. “But just as I know that, you know I can’t.” The rest of the sentence hangs in the air. It’s something you tell each other with your eyes, and it’s enough. He understands. That, you are sure of. 

Wonwoo nods. “Did he…What did he tell you?” The hesitation in his voice is obvious, but you take it as a sign of nervousness since he has an idea of how badly the conversation must have gone. You take a deep breath, staring into your cup of coffee as you repeat Mingyu’s words. They are still as vivid as they were that day, way too real. 

“We haven’t spoken since,” he admits suddenly, taking in everything you told him. To his surprise, Mingyu hasn’t changed anything to his advantage to seem like the nice guy in the end. You only hum in response. “I feel bad,” he sighs. 

“About?” 

“Everything. About everything I did in the past two months.” 

“It’s not your fault.” 

“But it is,” he argues. You breathe out, not having enough energy to argue with him. Especially since you know he is right. He wasn’t innocent. It was just easier to blame Mingyu and hope that might make you hate him. Even just slightly. 

“I should have never agreed to do this. I should have talked him out of it and told him how bad of an idea that was. I wish I could go back.” You frown at that. “You can’t go back.” 

“I know.” He sounds exhausted now that you pay closer attention to it. Your eyes flick up to meet his, and you notice the dark circles under his eyes. Suddenly, his skin wasn’t as flawless as when you met him for the first time. You feel bad for him somehow. You know that should be the last thing you’re thinking of, but you can’t help it. 

“I’m aware it might not look like that now, but he isn’t a bad guy. He’s just sometimes…putting himself before others in a way he shouldn’t.” 

You sigh, feeling the exhaustion hit you as well. 

“I don’t know what is so important to him about the painting or why he thought he needed to do this in order to buy it for himself, but I’m sorry. For ever being a part of this and doing things I normally wouldn’t.” 

“What painting?” You ask confusedly, and Wonwoo’s eyes widen when he realizes you don’t know everything after all. “I’m not– I think it goes up next week,” he answers, trying to remember what Mingyu told him about it. Honestly, it wasn’t much. Wonwoo wasn’t exactly oriented when it came to art. That was more of Mingyu and Minghao’s thing. 

“Is it this one?” You quickly unlock your phone, going through the upcoming list of auctions to find what you have in mind. You show him the phone, and he nods. You scoff. Of course. “It’s part of a collection,” you mumble, turning the phone toward yourself again. “I completely forgot it was going up for sale.” 

“It all makes sense now,” you sigh, looking at the picture on your phone. It’s a part of the Shadows and Glimmers collection, the same one your Whisper of Hope belongs to. It only makes sense he wants the painting. You would have too if he hadn’t outbid you back then. 

The painting shows a calm autumn scene. There’s a water path in the middle, small rocks lining the side, along with trees covered in orange and yellow leaves. Just like Whisper of Hope, it’s supposed to signal warmth and peace in nature. As far as you’re aware, it’s supposed to be from the other side of the mountains, showing that even cold places like these have another side to them. 

“Does it make sense? Because I can’t see what’s so good about it.” — You chuckle, shaking your head. “I think it has a deeper meaning to the both of us,” you mumble as you stare into your phone. You catch Wonwoo raising an eyebrow at that, but you don’t say anything. Not when you realize what you had just said. 

It does have a deeper meaning to both of you, something Wonwoo or your friends couldn’t understand. But you understand, and you know Mingyu does too. 

You close your eyes, trying to push the thought aside and not do anything you’ll regret later, but your heart takes over at the moment, and there’s nothing you can do now that you’ve decided. 

You’re going to the auction. 

And you will fight for what’s yours. 

If your thoughts drift to the painting or the man himself at the moment is something you’d rather not pay attention to. 

♡⸝⸝ ♡⸝⸝  

“Sometimes, whatever is going on through your head scares me,” Jihoon comments, making you chuckle. “Why? I don’t see anything weird about this.” He raises an eyebrow at you, Seokmin copying his movement. “Alright, yeah, maybe it is a stupid idea,” you admit with a defended sigh. “And I might regret it. But I’m not going there for him.” 

“Right,” Seokmin hums, exchanging a look with Jihoon. You roll your eyes at them, fixing your dress. “I’m only going because I want the painting. He might have gotten the first one in the collection, but I’m taking this one,” you say confidently. “I’m going to have my fun, maybe find a cute enough guy to leave with, and not pay any attention to Mingyu. That’s tonight’s plan.” 

“Well, good luck with that.” The tone in Jihoon’s voice makes you doubt yourself for a second. If they don’t believe you when you say you won’t break down the moment you see the handsome, tanned man, how are you supposed to believe in yourself? 

Honestly, you can’t blame them, though. Because you don’t believe in yourself either. 

As you step into the familiar building, you feel anxiety rush through you. Your eyes keep wandering around the room without you being able to control them, searching for the man himself. 

You only get to snap out of your thoughts when you hear your name from behind yourself, turning around to see who was calling you. You sigh, every sign of hope that was previously in your eyes disappearing as your eyes land on the man behind you. “Joshua,” you greet him politely, looking around once more, this time to find an escape route. “It’s been a while since I’ve seen you,” he comments, offering you the glass of wine in his hands. You decline with a slight head shake. “I was busy,” you excuse. “So busy you couldn’t call again?” 

Joshua Hong. One of the finest men you got to play with in your past. He wasn’t anyhow bad as he was, and you probably would have called him if you had met under different circumstances, but it wouldn’t have been you if you had done that to him. It was already enough that you had used him before to get some extra money for an art piece you wanted. 

“I’m sorry, but you know how it goes.” 

“Do I?” He chuckles, looking down at his wine. “I guess I know how one-night stands go, yeah,” he nods, his eyes meeting yours again. “But what if I say I don’t care about the past? That we could start again and pretend you never toyed with me?” A part of you pities him. You open your mouth to apologize, say just how sorry you are, but you realize it wouldn’t change anything. 

“We could leave tonight acting like nothing happened,” he offers. “And get to know each other again.” You know everything about what he just said was meant sexually, and it makes you feel gross. “Uhm…” You start, trying to find an excuse for yourself. 

“I don’t think she wants to explore you in any way.” You freeze when the familiar voice reaches your ears. It’s loud, deep, and strong. The sound echoes in your ears, making you look up to see him immediately. His arm wraps around your shoulder, holding you close to himself, and you feel like your heart stops for a moment. “So why don’t you get lost?” He hisses at Joshua. The shorter man glances at you, but you just send him an apologetic look, not saying anything else. You feel like even just opening your mouth might cause him to leave. 

You barely register Joshua walking away as Mingyu turns you to face him, his eyes soft when he sees your face. “Sorry,” he swallows nervously, bringing his arms back to his side. “I just–” he swallows the rest of his sentence when you take a step back. It feels like he can’t breathe. He hates being this close to you and yet being so far. What happened in front of your apartment back then might have hurt him more than it did you. 

“Thank you for that but…I will take my leave now,” you mumble, barely looking him in the eyes as you quickly turn around, running off to the bidding room as fast as you can without looking awkward. 

It’s only then that Mingyu exhales, closing his eyes in regret. There was so much he needed to tell you. And now that he knew you were here, he wasn’t sure if he could focus on the whole auction. But he has to. He has to do this no matter what. 

Mingyu takes a seat on the other side of the room from you, trying his best to keep his eyes off you. But it feels impossible. With the way your dress hugs your body and how you try to be inconspicuous when your eyes search around the room, he is sure to go crazy soon. He isn’t sure if you’re looking for the guy he pushed away from you earlier or him, but he hopes for the latter. 

The bidding starts soon after, making him snap out of his thoughts and focus on what’s happening on the podium. One painting goes after another, but Mingyu doesn’t care enough to try for any of them. He knows that if he wanted them, he would have had no problem getting them, but there is no reason for him to do so. He is here for the star of the show. 

There is a wave of fear that rushes through him when his eyes land on you again and he realizes you haven’t tried for any of the paintings so far either. This was exactly the situation he wanted to prevent. He isn’t so confident now, knowing you could go for the same painting he wants. 

With anyone else, he didn’t have to worry about a thing. Thanks to his reputation, the moment he’d raise his number, all other interested parties would give in, and it’d be like a walk in the park for him. But with you in the game, that isn’t going to work. He inhales through his nose, ignoring the stares from people around him as his grip on his number plate tightens. 

“2 millions.” He hears the familiar voice and looks your way, squeezing his eyes shut and tilting his head as he raises his number. “5,” is all he says, trying his best not to meet your eyes. If he did, he’d have to give up the whole auction. He wouldn’t be able to go against you. 

It’s a fight against the two of you the whole time. If anyone else raised their number plate and called out a number, Mingyu didn’t even notice it. All he can hear is your voice. It echoes in his ears, the soft, clear sound making his heart ache every time he has to bid higher than you again. 

“For fucks sake,” he mumbles. “I’m not letting you pay for it,” he says, squeezing his number plate even more, to a point he knows it will break if he doesn’t let go immediately. “I’ll take it for 32,” Mingyu calls out and watches you stare into your lap. Your shoulders tremble in regret, and he hates seeing you like this. All he wishes to do is run to you right away and pull you into a hug. 

But as the moderator announces he has won the painting and he sees you standing up from your place, excusing yourself as you pass the people around you to get to the nearest exit, he can’t even be happy about getting the painting. 

You’re not sure what you feel as you walk out of the building. Resent, anger, shame, or maybe you don’t feel anything at all, actually. One thing. It was the one thing you wanted to take away from him after everything, and you failed again. “Screw you, Kim Mingyu,” you mutter, taking out your phone to call yourself a taxi. You freeze when, at the same time, your screen lights up with an incoming call, and his name pops up. No. No, you can’t give in. Not now. 

It takes everything in you to turn off your phone, closing your eyes so you won’t be able to see it anymore. But he just can’t leave you alone. 

You hear your name behind yourself, his voice desperate, pleading. “Go away,” you whisper, unable to say it out loud. Because deep down, you don’t want him to leave you alone. You want to be close to him just like you were before everything. 

He doesn’t answer anything, and it makes you go insane. He messes with your head no matter what he does, no matter if he says anything or stays silent. You hate what power he has over you. 

You feel the warmth of his hand on you, and it makes you flinch. Before you can pull your hand away from him, he reaches for it again, turning you around with one easy pull so you would face him. 

His eyes are soft, apologies written all over them. His lips are slightly parted as if he were about to say something, and his wavy hair reaches under his eyes. It has grown since you last saw him. 

“Look me in the eyes, tell me you want me to leave, break my heart however much you want, and I’ll go, but please, hear me out first.” 

He takes a step forward, closing the space between you, and you feel like you can’t breathe. With him this close, you can’t avert your eyes or protect yourself from him. “You took another painting from me.” Your complaint sounds more broken than you’d want it to. His eyes soften as he exhales, squeezing your hand in his while his empty hand reaches to cup your cheek. His thumb brushes over your skin, and your breath shakes. When your eyes lock with his, you know you can’t escape him again. Not now, not ever. 

“I didn’t,” he shakes his head, his thumb moving up to your eye to stop the tears falling from your eyes. “Did this for you.” — “No,” you shake your head rapidly, trying to build a wall between you again so he wouldn’t be able to hurt you. “You don’t do anything for anyone else.” 

“I’d do anything for you,” he argues. 

“Stop lying.” 

“I mean it.” You gaze into his eyes, and you hate that you can’t find a single sign of this being another one of his games. There’s nothing but honesty in his eyes, and it breaks you even more. Your head falls on his chest, and you raise your hand, weakly hitting him. “No,” you’re desperate. Desperate to find a reason to hate him, to turn around and run from him. 

You break in his arms, tears rolling down your cheeks as he wraps his arms around you, rubbing circles on your back to calm you down. He keeps you close, not saying anything as you hit his chest over and over again. “I hate you,” you mumble, but you both know you don’t mean it. 

You look up to meet his eyes, biting the inside of your cheek. “I’ve never regretted anything in my life as I regret ever hurting you,” he whispers, his hand moving from your back to your waist. “I’ve never thought of anyone as much as I’ve thought of you. Never chased someone like this, never needed anyone as much as I need you.” 

“Mingyu,” you say his name with the last bit of strength in you, but your poor attempts at keeping him away go to waste as you feel his lips press against yours. The kiss is urgent, fragile, and conveys all the emotions Mingyu is unable to say out loud. 

“I hate you,” you cry again, trying to convince yourself more than him. “And I love you,” he responds, chasing after your lips again. You give up at that moment, allowing yourself to kiss him back. You don’t want to fight it anymore. You can’t. 

“The painting is for you,” he breathes out. “What?” Your eyes widen, but he doesn’t answer your question anymore. Instead, you find yourself wrapping your legs around his hips and tightly holding onto his shoulders as he picks you up, not caring about anyone around. “I came here just to buy it for you,” he proclaims, trying to search with his eyes for his car while his lips stay on yours. He is unable to keep his mouth away, needing you as close as possible. 

“But you–” He interrupts you with another kiss, making you yelp as he walks towards his car. “I don’t care about the painting anymore, nor the collection. I’d give it up anytime for you.” His words ring in your ears, playing on repeat until your back hits his car, and he finally places you down. The hunger in his eyes is obvious, a whine leaving his lips in protest when you slide inside his car and close the door behind yourself. He just can’t get enough. 

The car ride is blurry in your eyes. You’re not sure what was said, which road he took, or how long it took him to park in front of his house. All you can think of is his hand on your thighs, squeezing the flesh every chance he got, stealing a kiss from you every time he stopped at a red light. 

“Wa–wait,” you stop him as your back pressed on his front door, his lips on your neck. You regret it immediately when you see the puppy eyes he gives you. “We shouldn’t,” you say, but your body does something completely different as your hands wander over his stomach under his shirt. “We– I–” 

“Let me make it up to you,” he mumbles against your skin as he places another kiss on your collarbone. “Apologize for everything I did. And the things I didn’t do.” Your head hits his door, and a moan escapes your lips, your breath heavy. “Okay,” you nod in the end, unable to resist him much longer as you feel a wet patch creating between your legs. 

And that’s how you get to his bed again, your dress thrown to the floor, long forgotten along with Mingyu’s shirt. “So pretty,” he coos, his tongue tracing your inner thigh, making its way up to your needy pussy. His thumb rubs slow circles on your clit through your panties, groaning when he sees how wet the piece of clothing gets when he touches you. “I missed you. Missed you so bad,” he mumbles, pushing your panties to the side. “Kept thinking about you. All the time.” You’re unsure if his words are just needy blabs or if he means them, but you definitely aren’t in the right mind to figure that out now. 

“Min–” you swallow the rest of his name as you feel his tongue slide between your folds. You gasp when he tears your panties apart with ease, throwing them on the floor. His fingers part your folds, and he takes a minute to watch you as you try to thrust your hips up. “Patience, baby,” he coos, leaning down again to kiss your clit. His kisses slowly turn into sucking, his two fingers pushing inside to stimulate you more. “Oh, God,” you moan out, throwing your head back while your fingers find his locks, pulling on his hair. 

“That isn’t my name,” he says, pinching your clit as he looks up to see your face. Your whines fill the whole room, and it’s like pleasure to his ears. “Mingyu! Mingyu, Min,” his name leaves your lips repeatedly until he goes back to sucking on your clit and his fingers thrust into you again. 

The whines and groans that leave his lips as he presses his nose against your clit and licks your slick make your head spin. You’d let him do anything if it meant hearing him like this. If you had known he could get so pussy-drunk, you might have ignored the whole situation in the first place. 

“I’m– so close,” your moan comes out broken as he sucks harder. “Mhm,” he hums against your pussy. It doesn’t take much longer, and as Mingyu makes out with your cunt, you cum on his lips. Your breath grows heavy as you ride out your orgasm on his face, trying not to feel embarrassed as he starts blabbing again. 

You look at him, your heart beating faster as you lock eyes with him. There really is nothing but pure love behind them. You hesitate before you slowly sit up, his eyes watching you confusedly. “Come here,” you speak softly, and he doesn’t question you and does as you say. You tug on his belt, getting it off along with his pants while keeping eye contact. The change in his eyes when you do so is something you could watch forever. 

“What are you–” 

“Returning the favor since you’ve been so good,” you mumble, his mind going blank. He’s been good? The words repeat in his head, his mind wandering to fantasies he’d rather not tell you about yet. 

He helps you pull his boxers down, his already hard cock leaking with pre-cum. You look up at him one more time before you focus on his trembling cock, kneeling down in front of him and lightly squeezing him in your hand. 

Mingyu groans as you slowly move your palm up and down, your fingers quickly becoming coated in the shiny layer of his arousal. Rolling your wrist over his tip, you swallow hard as you feel his cock twitch under your hands. You squeeze harder, your movements becoming faster. “You– f-fuck. How much have you been training for this?” He breathes out, and had it been a different situation, you might think he’s calling you a slut. But you know he isn’t in his right mind at the moment. He hasn’t been since he kissed you for the first time after the auction. 

He tugs your hair behind your ear, his fingers softly brushing over your cheek. You look up at him, nodding to yourself when you see him biting his bottom lip. His hips buck up against your hand, and he lets out a strangled noise. “Slow–Slow down. Gon–Gonna cum soon.” That’s what he says, but when you let go of his cock, the disagreeing whine he lets out tells you all you need to know. 

You switch your hand with your mouth, giving his leaking tip a kitty-lick before you take as much of him as you can, his cock twitching in your mouth. He doesn’t hesitate after, his hands holding onto your face as he fucks into you, his tip hitting the back of your throat. “Shit– you’re too good, baby,” the praise leaves his lips before he can even realize what he’s saying, too lost in the moment as he watches his cock disappear in your mouth. You gag when he pushes into you with full force, but don’t pull away, ignoring the tears creating in your eyes and sucking on him harshly. 

Mingyu doesn’t bother telling you as he gets closer to his climax, releasing in your mouth without any notice. You gag again at that but make sure there isn’t a single drop of cum leaving your lips as he pulls out with a groan. “Fuck,” he breathes out, his dick twitching again when he watches you swallow. He’s never been this obsessed with a blowjob before. 

You straighten your back again, placing your hand behind his neck and pulling him closer until your lips meet. The bitter taste of his cum makes him frown for a second before your tongue meets his, and it becomes the last thing he is worried about. He pushes you back onto the bed, deepening the kiss as his hands wander over your body, squeezing your breast, his fingers brushing over your tummy, his hands harshly gripping your waist, and lastly, his fingers reaching your clit again. You moan at the touch, trying to tug on his hair again, but it’s no help. He needs to make you cum again, no matter if you’re already feeling overstimulated or not. 

♡⸝⸝ ♡⸝⸝  

As the smell of freshly done eggs reaches your nose, you groan and turn around on the bed. Slowly opening your eyes, you blink a few times when you see the mess on the nightstand. Your place definitely doesn’t look like that. 

Then it hits you. A wave of realization runs through you and you sit up, looking around the room to see if he was there. You breathe out and close your eyes when you don’t see anyone, collecting your memories of last night. Seokmin is going to kill you when he finds out. 

You run your fingers through your hair as you try to figure out your next move, but all your thoughts disappear when the door opens and your eyes land on the man you have so much history with. He is shirtless, his sweatpants hung low, and he is holding a plate in his hands. Your eyes soften at the sight. “Good morning, sleeping beauty,” he smiles, and you melt immediately. You can’t even be mad at him. 

You know you should regret it, collect your things, run away as fast as you can and never see him again, but it’s impossible when he looks at you like this. 

“Sleeping beauty?” You raise your eyebrow at the nickname, watching him as he walks over to you and sits at the edge of his bed. “I have a feeling you’d kick me in the balls if I called you a princess,” he chuckles, offering you the food in his hands. “And you are a beauty, so why wouldn’t I call you that?” 

“Come here,” you whisper, putting the plate aside. Mingyu’s eyes follow you confusedly, but he listens, moving closer to you. His hand runs up your covered leg, holding eye contact to see your reaction. He isn’t sure what he can and cannot do at this point. You hesitate, looking into his puppy eyes before you lean closer to him, pressing a soft kiss on his cheek. “Let’s start again and better,” you mumble, and the way his eyes lit up makes your heart skip a beat. Only he could have this kind of power over you. 

“I’d love that more than anything.” 

♡⸝⸝ ♡⸝⸝  

“I don’t trust you.” 

Mingyu chuckles awkwardly, looking around the room for some help. However, all he is met with are killing stares from your friends, who haven’t grown to like him yet so much. 

You laugh as you put your hand around his waist, resting your head on his shoulder. “They are just teasing you,” you assure him, but he isn’t so sure about it as Soonyoung narrows his eyes at him, not breaking their eye contact as he holds his girlfriend beside him. “Right…” 

“Okay, who wants a drink?” Adel stands up to ease the awkward situation. Hansol—her now boyfriend—gets up with her, counting the raised hands so they could get everything. “Please, don’t kill him while we are gone,” she adds, purposely sending a glance at Seokmin and Soonyoung. “Yeah, I wouldn’t want to miss it,” Hansol laughs, and she smacks his arm immediately. “Just go.” 

You shake your head at them. “Come on, guys. We talked about this,” you sigh when their stares don’t stop. It’s been a month since you decided to forgive Mingyu and left the whole thing behind you and three weeks since he officially asked you to be his girlfriend. Yet, the guys couldn’t seem to find their way to him. For some reason, they made it seem like he had hurt them more than you. 

“You guys are making it look like he killed your moms or something.” You turn your head to the side, smiling. “See? Even Wonwoo thinks it’s stupid.” 

Jeon Wonwoo, your past lover and Mingyu’s best friend. Chan said it was weird for you to still talk after everything, but when he and Mingyu made up, and he reached out to you to offer a friendship, you couldn’t just send him away. If he didn’t mind seeing you with his best friend, you didn’t have a problem with it either. 

The quiet tsk that leaves Seoonyoung’s lips makes you roll your eyes. They were holding a grudge against him for no reason. “Look, if you have such a problem with him, then we are leaving,” you proclaim, making sure they know you are a package deal. “Baby,” Mingyu stops you before you can stand and prove your point, shaking his head as he strokes your arm lightly. “It’s fine, I get them.” 

“It’s not fine,” you disagree. “Seokmin and Soonyoung need to pull their heads out of their ass and realize I couldn’t care less if they approve of you or not.” 

Your best friend gulps down as he watches you. You’re mad and not just a little annoyed with him mad like you always are. You’re pissed. “Okay, okay, I’m sorry,” Seokmin apologizes, encouraging Soonyoung to do the same. “I admit I took this little too far.” 

“Yeah, I guess,” Soonyoung mumbles, Hanni beside him shaking her head at him. “Sorry.” 

You sigh. Mingyu wraps his hand around your shoulders to put you at ease, and you turn your head to him with a smile. He returns your smile, leaning closer to place his lips on yours. There’s a grin on your face as you kiss him, ignoring the presence of all your friends. Because when you are with him, you forget about everything and everyone else. 

“I love you,” he whispers against your lips, a secret for you and him only. You bite the inside of your cheek to constrain your own smile. Otherwise, you might look like a middle schooler who has just got together with her first crush. 

“I love you too,” you whisper back, and as if to seal the secret, you place another kiss on his lips. 

⋆✶ izzy's tags @beomiracles @adel222 @liaatiny @cherrylovescheol @bamgeutsz @codeinebelle @gyuguys @ninigyuuu @whoa-jo @lixisoul99 @archivegyu @very-important-army @blaycke @cxsmicgyu ✶⋆ want to get notified? join taglist here!

[lausaivrse]

﹙💌﹚ ➳ PLAYING WITH HIS HAIR

  𓍯𓂃  till starring as : your beloved boyfriend!

𐔌 💬 contents: till being himself , probably ooc? , reader is a female + she is affectionate, this was supposed to happen in the original ( canon universe ) but wiege destroyed me so this is modern, college au!

     ━━━ ANON REQUESTED: hello! can i please request a till x fem!reader where reader keeps trying to play with his hair, but till is flustere and stuff, trying to stop reader and leans back too much to the point he falls on the ground, with reader on top of him? ty :D

WORD COUNT. 2K

I. 001

Affection has never been TILL’S strong suit, he gets shy easily when people try to get affectionate with him. Leaving him a blushing, red mess. TILL prefers being alone, wanting to have some alone time with himself, maybe practice with his guitar and compose some new songs— so him getting a significant other was rather a surprise both to him and his circle of friends.

and his significant other was overly affectionate, bless his heart because the feeling of you hugging, kissing or even touching him makes his poor heart race a thousand miles.

you were just too much for him, the feeling of your soft lips on his cheek, your hands on his body ( not in a sexual way ) clinging onto him was just not making it easy.

he doesn’t know how much of these affections he was receiving from his beloved girlfriend he can take.

II. 002

Class ended five minutes ago and TILL was still outside of the University, sketching underneath a tree as the sound of the tip of the pen hitting the paper filled his senses. the howling of the wind was mixed by the sound of the pen and paper together creating a tranquil atmosphere for TILL.

though, too absorbed in his daily habits he didn’t notice your figure approaching him. your steps were light and quiet as you made your way towards the silver-gray haired boy who was so caught up sketching to notice your presence.

Normally TILL would notice you immediately since he was always on guard but something about him relaxed and so at ease in his own little bubble makes you feel all warm and fuzzy, he's just so cute.

you let out a soft giggle as you squatted down to his level, still not getting his attention even with the shift of your body - but you know what can get his attention.

leaning in your lips were just inches away from touching his cheek, with a smile on your face you pressed a kiss on his cheek - effectively getting his attention as his body went rigid from the contact.

his face went crimson shade as he whipped his head towards your direction only to be met with your face, a huge, sweet smile plastered on your face as he shouted, his voice shaky while he touched the place on his cheek where you had kissed.

“What was that for!?” he yelled, his lips trembling as he proceeded to touch his cheek and the spot you had placed a kiss, his words only earned a giggle from you “trying to get your attention” you replied simply while you proceeded to giggle as your hand went to his hair, running your fingers through his soft silver-gray locks.

TILL involuntarily jolt at the sudden contact of your hands in his hair before he pushed it off ( not in a harsh way, more like frantically ) as his face went deeper shade of red “h-hey! Don’t t-touch my hair so sudden—!” he stuttered earning a laugh from you as you tried to touch his hair again.

”come on! it’s soft, i wanna touch it!” you teased, your hands trying to get in contact with his hair as TILL proceeded to swat your hands away, mumbling lines of ”stop it!” “stop trying to touch it!”

eventually the amount of teasing and trying to get your hands off his hair you lost your balance and landing on top of your boyfriend, your arms are either side of his head, you perched on top of his as your faces were only inches away from each other.

silence falls upon the two of you before TILL eventually heats up more, his face crimson red and steam coming out of his head by how hot his face is as he thought oh boy..

ᥫ᭡. 𓍯 RESOURCES . . filter , art, png ♪ © LAUSAIVRSE, 2025.

[marshmallowprotection]

What if I gifted Ray some Valentine's chocolates. And maybe even. Hand fed them to him. And then gave him a kiss. What then 🤨

Ray never expected to receive a treat for Valentine's Day. After all, from what he'd heard about the holiday, it was a day for princes to give their significant others something special. He always imagined that he would be able to make his princess, prince, or whoever he met that made his heart flurry—a marvelous treat that would in no uncertain terms prove how much he loved them.

He wanted to be the person who made someone else feel special on the most romantic holiday of the year, but you turned that concept... upside down. He never thought he would be the one being swept off his feet in a heartbeat. Sure, there were princes out there who would know the day to be theirs forevermore, but he never considered that he could be one of them. How could he?

He was a giver, one who would always work to make sure his place in the world was cemented because he had something to give, but you had attempted to prove to him that he didn't have to do anything to... to be worthy of that.

It didn't make sense.

At least, not in the context of Paradise. He was supposed to fight for as long and as hard as he could to be even a fraction of what he was supposed to be. He could easily be thrown away, but the Savior had promised she would never abandon him... even if he was a failure in every aspect of life. He was precious enough not to be thrown away, but not precious enough to be worshiped.

And yet, your hands continued to fight against the current to show him what you knew he was worth.

Ray blinked back a couple of stray tears that dared to spill over before he could stop them. He didn't know what to say! You were standing in front of him with a small box in your hands, smiling ear to ear as soon as he realized what was inside of the box. It was an assortment of tiny chocolates. They looked nothing like the ones he consumed to avoid wasting his time on a walk to the kitchen.

They looked like they'd be created by hand. A machine would be far too perfect to forgo the soft lumps and drizzle that would come by hand. That was the charm... the character of it all. He thought he'd surprise you with a wonderful bouquet he spent all evening trying to piece together with all the right meanings in tow, but you out-shined him by a long-shot.

His heart fluttered as the hand holding onto your bouquet began to tremble. "You... you made that for me?"

"Of course, my prince. You mentioned to me before how you wished the chocolate you eat every day could be sweeter... that's why I asked if I could have a picture of what you've been eating the other day. The picture told me all I needed to know about it! You've been eating dark chocolate instead of milk chocolate. Milk chocolate isn't quite as bitter as the kind you have! The amount of cacao is super different in the manufacturing process... So, I made sure to use milk chocolate in these treats to see if you liked them more!"

Oh.

Was that the case?

He never once put much thought into the treats he received from the Savior. She was the one who brought him candy now and again, and he assumed it only tasted strange because the Elixir always clung to the back of his throat no matter how much he tried to wash it away with water and juice. He never once thought to read the label. He saw no point. He thought his Savior would give him something sweet and worthwhile. But, she hadn't.

Was that because she wanted him to grow to like the taste of bitter things?

He wasn't sure, but he didn't want to think about it as you continued to smile at him with those eyes that made him melt. You laughed at his rosy cheeks and plucked one of the chocolates from the box with a single tug. He wasn't sure what you intended to do with that, but as you leaned over, he realized you wanted to feed him one of your soft, tantalizing treats.

How could he say no?

He parted his lips and soon after, he felt sugar, cream, and chocolate coat his tongue, as well as your playful fingertip that nudged both of his agape lips closed so he could relish the flavor. Every spot you had touched felt like it was fire, but he could think of nothing but how the sweetness of your confection gave him life. It was as if you put a little piece of yourself into the treat and he could taste you.

Would you taste like that?

Would you melt on his tongue?

Ray prayed that if he ever had the chance to taste your lips, they would be as sweet as—

His wide eyes trembled as you leaned in that much closer, pressing your lips to the corner of his mouth without a second thought. The kiss was both tender and sweet. He called it a kiss, but he wondered if it could be called a kiss when your lips weren't as united as he had expected them to be to match the stories he'd always read as a little boy. A kiss was when two lips blurred together, but this was... it was something different, something special.

He didn't know how else to describe it.

It was sweeter than the chocolate still slowly melting against his tongue. The bouquet fell from his hand and onto the grass below when he felt your tongue nip his cheek. He gasped at the gesture, and you took that as a chance to pull away for air. It was there in a flash and gone just as soon... just like the chocolate. A moment of love and tenderness all stored in a precious treat.

"Sorry," you whispered, long lashes fluttering over knowing eyes. "You had a bit of melted chocolate on your lips. I wanted to see if it would taste sweeter on your lips than it did on my fingers."

This was paradise.

[stopmyhearts]

okay. Romana self harm thoughts. Under a cut because of subject matter but yeah. I warn you now this shit is explicit, if you read it that's not my responsibility

So, Romana is so traumatized that it isn't really a question on if she hurts yourself, but rather how and when she starts. The easy answer would be during or after Etra Prime but I'm a big supporter of the 'Romana has always been somewhat fucked up' idea so I think it started earlier. My girl is a psych major (to me at least) and accordingly a bit wrong in the head. I don't think she does it in a truly concerning amount pre-Etra Prime, but like. She's tried it a couple of times in the academy. It's not as if anyone on Gallifrey would see, anyways. I think she just wants to see what it's like, and she's got a bit of a morbid curiosity. She's just fascinated by the blood (I'd say she tries some cuts probably), she doesn't actually want to hurt herself, it's not a coping mechanism. So when she joins the Doctor she hasn't hurt herself in several years, if not decades, and the adventures scratch any itch that might be scratched by cutting as well. I think maybe, placing 'the Doctor's first XI' just before Destiny of the Daleks, she does it occasionally there. Again, not often, and it's more boredom than anything, but staying a century or longer in one place, surrounded by all these terribly traumatized people, that's going to do a number on your mental health, Time Lord or not. And I think that makes it easier too, for her to choose to regenerate, to shorten her lifespan like that, because that is definitely, if not a suicide, either a sacrifice or significant act of self-harm.

And I think that does scare Romana II. Like, she plays it all off as a joke, but I think deep down she knows that's serious and it scares her off. So she throws away any tools she may have previously used, and stops. I still think maybe if she gets overwhelmed she presses her fingernails into her palms a little too hard or she chews her lips until she accidentally draws blood sometimes but nothing more than that.

And then we come to Etra Prime. Obviously she gets hurt constantly there, so I don't think she adds to that without cause. But she does keep trying to escape, I think, like she doesn't want to live anymore but more than anything she wants to stop being hurt. And I think she's willing to risk more pain for a chance to escape. And to spare other people too, if she can. I don't think she ever loses that compassion, but it is very hard because she has to weigh the suffering in front of her eyes against the potential suffering out in the universe, so she never gives up her secrets.

Post-Etra Prime, I believe she has a lot of chronic pain to deal with, and is desperate for control. Control over herself, over the people around her, over all of Gallifrey. And her physical pain and disability are things she can't control, so I think she gets some control from inflicting pain on herself. Maybe she did so on Etra Prime too, I don't know. Pressing on scars until they hurt, twisting her knee just so, scratching at bumpy scars to make them less noticeable, overdoing it, not letting herself rest, all that sort of stuff. I think there's a point to it too that she needs some pain to function. She's exhausted, but a sudden pain can give that little spike of adrenaline she needs to keep herself going through long days as a president. And I think that's approximately the level it stays at, at least for as far as Enemy Lines (which is where I am currently). Like it gets less or more depending on the situation, in general I think post-Warfare it gets less because she had her big suicide plan there and I think it gets Narvin and Leela onto her more too. And there's not really much room to escape each other on the axis. Also, she heals, slowly and not completely, but some of the pain and exhaustion do get less, especially while she isn't president. So it's both harder to hurt herself and less necessary for her daily function.

Truly what is wrong with her, I love her and I love to give her issues

[swearimnevergivingup]

so uh i'm thinking about ex-boyfriend!nanami. you broke up with him 3 years ago but he's never been able to move on. he's tried everything. everything under the sun, and none of it has ever worked.

he isn't even sure if forgetting you is what he wants. he thinks he wants to let you live in the spot carved out for you in his heart, whether that hurts him or not.

and when you run into him in the lobby of your apartment building? one thing leads to another and you find yourself splayed out on the couch obscenely, the oversized shirt you were wearing hiked up to your waist as you slowly part your legs for him.

the world blurs around you.

all you can think about is this very moment.

the significance of what you’re doing is entirely palpable to you. you’re inviting him in, not just to your house, but into your heart again. 

breathing heavily, your eyes follow his every movement in anticipation as his fingers dance across your inner thighs.

his hands slip underneath the waistband of your panties, two fingers sliding in between your slick folds. you tense a little at the sensation as he parts them, the rough pads of his fingers prodding the sensitive bud of nerves that makes you shiver and whine.

“god,” he groans. “i’ve fucking missed this pussy.”

you let out a little laugh at the foul language that slips from his tongue. it’s been so long since you’ve heard his voice, and even longer since you’ve felt his touch.

“missed your cock too, kento,” you murmur, eager to show that you’ve been equally longing for him, if not more. you want to hear more of him, so you reach your hand out to palm at his erection. he’s rock hard, and there’s a little wet spot on his pants from the precum.

“fuck,” he mutters, tilting his head back. “it’s been a while.”

you giggle at that, a little woozy from the wine. “it’s been a while for me too.”

“n-no, you don’t understand,” his grip on your hips tightens as he struggles to maintain his composure. “you were the last.”

oh.

your eyes widen at that revelation, stopping your movements to fully look at him. “w-why haven’t you—”

for the second time tonight, you find yourself in complete disbelief. you were the last person he slept with? that had been more than 2 years ago - way more than enough time for things to change, for someone else to come along.

but then again, nanami’s always been a serious man, and by extension, that applied to his love life too. never one to seek out casual hookups, that man dated to marry. 

“i didn’t want anyone else. only you,” he murmurs. “that hasn’t changed.”

your heart is not the only thing that clenches at the raw sincerity in his voice. 

“say it again,” you whisper. “i want— i want to hear you say it again.”

“i only want you.” nanami must have realised how much you needed to hear that, the same way he had needed your confirmation earlier, because his voice is more resolute this time. “and this—” his hand moves to cup yours, guiding your movements as he slowly drags your hand over his cock. “s’all for you, sweetheart.”

one hand reaches for the back of your neck, holding you tenderly as he peppers kisses on your lips and all over your neck.

the other hand, though, moves deviously between your thighs, a singular digit plunging into your soaked cunt. 

nanami relishes the way you gasp into his mouth, back arching off the couch as all sorts of pretty sounds drip from your flushed lips.

i love you.

i still love you, after all this time.

he doesn’t say it out loud - no, it isn’t the right time. 

but he repeats it loudly enough inside his head, hoping that somehow, you might hear it too. 

a/n: this is part of my upcoming work: i never moved from where you left me (nsfw)

there are apologies to be made, lost time to reclaim, and parts of each other waiting to be rediscovered. and yet, you know him like an old song. you know the words, carved into the lining of your skin, you know its melody, a soft hum that echoes in the chambers of your heart. nanami kento is that lingering rhythm, that pained harmony, existing deep within the cracks of memory and longing - an unfading symphony in your soul.

comment if you would like to be tagged! <3

edit: some snippets here! taglist closed :)

[exopelagic]

A list of things I’m frustrated by:

[hyperions-light]

Someone was being a fucking hater on my explicitly positive DATV post AGAIN (u all know I can see your tags right. They get delivered to me express mail style) so here’s an essay about how I thought the Grey Warden plotline was great:

First, it was extremely lore-consistent. I don’t know how to tell people this, but the Grey Wardens simply are sort of shady— it’s part of their charm. In DAO alone we found out they:

- kill anyone who refuses the joining

- are definitely using a blood magic ritual to induct people

- tried to usurp the throne of Fereldan

In DA2 they:

-Forced Malcolm Hawke to perform a blood magic ritual against his will to contain Corypheus, by threatening to kill his family

- Built a giant prison in the mountains they didn’t tell anyone about and that someone could wander into and not be able to escape

- the entire Corypheus thing. They didn’t even tell the other Wardens like what he was or how dangerous he was.

DAI:

- the demon army thing was pretty bad

And that’s not even mentioning any stuff from the books or comics or shows! That’s just stuff in the games!

So they’re shady. It’s okay! They’re my little woobie guys, idc if they’re sort of shady!

But the plot in DATV is about all of those previously established issues coming back to bite them in the fucking ass, as they should! Knock knock, it’s the consequences of your actions, baby! The chickens are home to roost

(Which is just good storytelling. Like if you set up a bunch of issues and then never pay them off or anything that’s bad.)

Destroying Weisshaupt was inspired! Firstly bc Davrin is Weisshaupt, metaphorically (bulwark against the darkness, etc, I already made a post) so it serves his character arc. But also because it strips away the pageantry and the grandeur from them; no more castle for you! No more myth!

Davrin explicitly tells you that the First Warden is a traditionalist; he represents the historical attitudes of the Wardens. They do not accept help, they do not give up their secrets, they are standing alone against the dark. And it doesn’t work! He’s fucking wrong (and very punch-able). Being secretive and isolationist is a mistake that costs them nearly everything.

But also, and I’m not sure how many people experienced this on the first go-around, the game does ultimately come down on the side of the Wardens always trying to do the right thing. You CAN talk the First Warden down, because in the end he’s a Warden, and he might be stubborn and curmudgeonly and miserable but he CARES about the world. He came to do good. He admits he was wrong and he helps you. Because the heart of the Wardens is about selfless service to other people. In Death, Sacrifice.

Stripping away Weisshaupt and the glory and pageantry leaves the Wardens at their most vulnerable and forces them to return to their fundamental principles: helping people. That’s what Lavendel is about. Helping individual people and preserving every life possible even if it doesn’t feel that glamorous or heroic. Lavendel isn’t a significant place; it doesn’t matter, but it matters so much.

And then, the Cauldron.

First off, do not at me about Last Flight. I don’t think people should have to read external materials to play this game and understand it. If the information is vital it should be presented to the player in the text.

The Cauldron is the repository of the Wardens’ secrets; it’s where the keep the bones of the Archdemons, the secret to the Joining, ancient and dangerous weapons, as well as the bodies of the griffons, which represents their most shameful errors. Isseya is the avatar of the Wardens’ mistakes; she’s been hurt by what they made her do, and her pain was never acknowledged by them. They buried her story and her suffering like they bury everything they don’t want to deal with and are ashamed of. They left the bones of the griffons, whose deaths they directly caused, to rot because they were too sad to acknowledge them.

But it was wrong to walk away, it was wrong to bury it. Isseya makes sure that they can never do that again, that they have to own what they did and take responsibility. By discovering who she is and by restoring her personhood to her, by reminding her of her love which drove her to her anguish in the first place, Davrin saves her and he saves the griffons. He doesn’t do it using violence, because another sin of the Wardens is just assuming that they can kill their way out of their problems, which the game disproves by revealing the origin of the Blight. You can kill as many darkspawn as you want, you will never fix it! The Titans’ dreams do not need to be slain, they need to be healed.

Isseya is in so much pain because of her incredible love for both the griffons and the Wardens, and because of her guilt. Look what she builds! An alternate Weisshaupt, a distorted reflection of her home. She entreats both Davrin and Assan to join her, because she doesn’t think she’s trying to destroy anything. She’s trying to save them! She wants them to come home. “I am their mother,” she says, and she’s right. She saved them, then, and she ends up saving them now! Because she made Davrin and the other Wardens look, unflinchingly, at what they had done, it will never happen again. She was going about it wrong during the game, but she was ALWAYS trying to save them.

Davrin, Antoine and Evka represent the Wardens’ commitment to being different. They let Flynn undergo the Joining without becoming a Warden, they reveal secrets to non-Warden Rook, they offer to help the Viper without asking for anything in return. They ask for help and offer it freely. If the Wardens are going to persist into a world without Archdemons, they HAVE to change. They can’t be what they were anymore. The game is asking what a Warden is when they have to be more than their oath, when they have to live. It’s a great exploration of and expansion on previously established lore.

Anyway, my advice if you hated the plot and the game and the characters is to a) make your own post b) don’t bother me about it, because I have the time and I will be loudly positive in response!

[nikibogwater]

Actually while I'm thinking about it, I just wanna say that the more live-action remakes Disney shlups out like shoveled manure, the more amazed I am that Cinderella (2015) exists. It breaks literally every standard of Disney's LA remakes.

It's not a shot-for-shot remake of the original 1950 animated film, though it does include small references and homages to it, but only when such things can be incorporated organically into the story.

The creators understood and respected the cross-cultural significance of the Cinderella story. They didn't want to "fix" it, or add some wacky twist to it, they just wanted to make the best possible version of the Quintessential Cinderella that they could.

Everything that could be done practically was done practically. The carriage was a real, the horses pulling it were real, and all of the other animals (with the exception of the mice and lizards, since their performance was a lot more involved than the others') were real living animals, the lizard footman and goose carriage driver were wearing prosthetics instead of just having their animal features added in post, the Fairy Godmother's dress had little LED lights sewn into it so that it would actually glow for real, the ballroom set was built by hand and included real chandeliers with more than 2000 total candles that were all actually lit for the scene, and I could go on but you get the point.

There's a ton of attention paid to little details that make the world feel real and lived in. Ella's shoes are always a little scuffed and dirty. Her farm dress is faded and wrinkled. When she breaks down and runs away to the woods, she rides her horse bareback (which, once again, was a thing Lily James actually did, no stunt-double or editing in post), because not only is that something a country girl like her would know how to do, but it also makes sense that with as upset as she is, she wouldn't want to waste time with saddling the horse. When she's dancing with the prince, it's visually obvious that he is leading her and giving her cues because of course Ella wouldn't know the latest ballroom dances, and would need him to guide her through it.

Hey speaking of dancing, y'know what else this movie does that no other LA remake has been allowed to do (at least not to this extent)? ROMANCE. Land sakes alive, this is one of the most unabashedly and yet still tastefully romantic movies I've ever seen. Ella and Kit are just oozing romantic chemistry from the moment they lock eyes for the first time. It all comes down to the fact that these two characters both have the same core values of courage and kindness, which makes their admiration for each other feel grounded and believable. Richard Madden also really sells Kit's feelings for Ella with the way his eyes go all big and soft whenever he looks at her. And don't even get me started on Lily's performance as Ella. Her quiet awe that someone as powerful as the prince loves her. The timidity and fear that she's not really worthy of that. The selfless determination to protect him from her family's cruelty, even if it means she'll never see him again, I'm just-- *banging my fist against the table and screaming into a pillow*

Absolutely god-tier costume design. No notes, I think Sandy Powell's work speaks for itself. Btw, in case you were somehow still wondering, yes, Ella's ballgown is fully practical--those layers upon layers of dreamy silk skirts are real. CG was only used to brighten up the blue color to make her stand out from the crowd more.

Wicked stepmother was allowed to actually be wicked. The movie never tries to make you sympathize with Lady Tremaine, or shift the blame off to someone else. And her villainy is given an extra layer of depth with the reveal that she is a dark reflection of Ella. They've both lost people they loved, but where Ella refused to let her grief get in the way of kindness, Lady Tremaine became utterly consumed by it. She views the death of her first husband as a sort of twisted justification for pursuing all her worst impulses. She despises Ella for her ability to flourish even while enduring terrible suffering, for being everything Lady Tremaine was either unable or flat-out refused to be.

Also Cate Blanchet absolutely SLAYS in this role. Hands-down my favorite portrayal of the wicked stepmother character.

Anyways, TLDR: Cinderella (2015) is the only Disney live-action remake that can justify its own existence and that's because it actively defies everything the LA remakes are today.

[notjustjavierpena]

Swelter

Main Masterpost | Support a disabled creator

A/N: This happened because the SAG Awards made me horny. I have no other explanation for my behavior, no other defence. Maybe that I was listening to ur dad by VIAL. Obviously also a huge thanks to @strang3lov3 for being the cutest love bug I know, and for putting up with my brainstorming sessions.

Summary: You have a crush on Sarah’s father. It is summer, it is hot, and you just want a cold drink.

Pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader/you (no y/n)

Tags: +18 smut, best friend’s dad, significant age gap (reader is 19-22, Joel is in his mid-40s), SEXUAL TENSION, bee stings, groping, voyeur to some degree, f masturbation, dirty talk, an endless amount of pet names, sexy play with a soda can, praise kink, car sex, daddy kink, fingering, unprotected piv sex, joel’s cock is huge in this, creampie, premature ejaculation, pussy eating, come eating, squirting

Word count: 6.8k

Link to this work on AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/54233479

Swelter

A warm Texas breeze blows through the open window of Sarah’s childhood room, making the see-through pink curtains move elegantly from side to side. It hits your back right underneath your halter neck as you lay on Sarah’s bed, caressing your bare skin and making you think of him. You wonder if his hands would have the same effect on you because you find yourself shivering but not from feeling cold. He is somewhere here, and his daughter doesn’t even know that her best friend obsesses about that fact.

Sarah hasn’t changed her room since she was a teenager. She told you this the first time she brought you here, which is almost a year ago today. You were here last summer too, thrilled to be invited to spend a few weeks of your summer with a friend from college and you and her have been inseparable ever since, even if you are so different from each other.

You have your face in a woman’s magazine, propped up on your elbows so you can suck on a popsicle stick whilst turning the pages. There’s a page with the recipe for ‘The Best Fudgy Chocolate Cake Ever!’ next to a page on how to lose weight, and it makes you snort.

“What?” Sarah turns on her chair, pausing the video on her computer.

“What kinda woman are you? You can choose one, but only one. Don’t get greedy now!” You make a scratchy voice but then pop your ice pop in your mouth to hold up the magazine for her to see.

“Seriously? We can’t win,” she groans dramatically, “Chocolate cake always. I just want to be happy, and that looks like a serotonin boost.”

Suddenly, the door opens without any warning. It’s him. Mr. Miller. You quickly remove the popsicle from your mouth, not about to show him how your lips are stretched around the sugary snack. The open door causes a draft to blow the smell of his cologne your way, and it is intoxicating beyond your imagination because you relish in it in secret.

“Dad,” Sarah says with exasperation, “I thought being an adult earned you the privilege of more privacy.”

“It’s gettin’ colder outside now,” he states and ignores her comment, hand resting on the doorknob, “The Adlers need Mercy to be walked, and the pavement’s coolin’ down.”

“I walked him when I was fourteen,” she furrows her brow and you suppress a snicker, “I’m twenty.”

“Just ‘cause you’re grown, don’t mean you can’t do right by ‘em,” he states matter-of-factly.

“Hi, Mr. Miller,” you say from your spot on the bed as Sarah fumes quietly, absentmindedly reaching to pull the short skirt of your dress down. He can probably see the start of your ass from how it has been riding up as you lay down on the sheets.

“Hiya darlin’,” he replies and you swear you can hear a restrained sound in his voice. He turns to Sarah again, “Get your butt off that chair.”

“Fine,” she follows through on her orders but still wants to argue, probably embarrassed at being ordered around by her father in front of her friend. She gestures to you, “And what about my guest?”

“She’s grown too, which means she can probably entertain herself the half hour you’ll be gone,” he dares wink at you, and blood courses through your veins.

“I’ll just get that assignment done while you’re out,” you reassure and try not to seem like your core is shaking.

“See?” Joel looks triumphant.

“You’d make a hell of a lawyer,” she deadpans at her father and walks past him.

When he closes the door and leaves you alone in the bedroom, you can feel your popsicle having melted, its syrupy water running down your fingers. You switch hands and suck the sticky fingers into your mouth. The action makes Mr. Miller’s image flash in your mind and you press your thighs together before getting up and finding your laptop.

You find that it’s near impossible to concentrate on proofreading your assignment in the tiny bedroom after just five minutes of being alone. It’s not that you can’t concentrate in the Summer heat but no matter what you do, your mind keeps circling back to Joel’s voice as he called you darling. It heats you more than the sun ever could, and with every tap on your keyboard, your mouth gets more and more dry.

Eventually, you push yourself to stand from your seat at the desk and make a decision to go fetch something to drink, and it is definitely not with the intention of accidentally bumping into Sarah’s father. Not even when you do not find Joel in the kitchen and decide to bypass it altogether to continue into the garage in hopes of being successful in your search for a drink (obviously).

This infatuation started last year. It took you about ten seconds - from walking into the kitchen and shaking Joel’s hand - to realize that Sarah was cursed with having him as a father. Firstly, he was outrageously handsome; always wearing washed-out t-shirts that clung to his shoulders, always smiling with teeth, sporting salt-and-pepper curls, and sometimes even shocking you by entering the kitchen with working gloves on. However, when he opened his mouth and spoke, a southern drawl dripped from his lips and made your whole body tense up. He was charming, respectful, and laughed at the right moments. Most importantly, he laughed at every damn attempt that you made at being funny, and while it was probably an attempt to be nice and make you feel at home, it spurred you on terribly to win him over at every opportunity.

Despite all that, those opportunities weren’t many. He was also cool enough to know that his daughter didn’t want him hanging around all the time, and so he spent many days either in the garden to mow the lawn in competition with the rest of the fathers down the street, in the garage to fix up some old truck, or with his brother, Tommy, and Tommy’s wife who always had some DIY-project going on.

Thus, the summer became one of tanning sessions in the garden, movies in Sarah’s room, stolen glances at Joel Miller whenever he came inside to quench his thirst after hard labor, and secret longing whenever he had kept away for too long.

One particular day last year, Sarah had failed to mention that her father would be home most of the last days you were in their house, and because he was always out, you were getting more and more comfortable with walking around in your towels post-showers or leaving the door unlocked when changing.

The particular event had happened in the morning when the house had been silent except for the kitchen where Sarah was preparing breakfast, using a large box of pancake mix and the whole fruit section of the local grocery store for topping. You had just showered, standing with your head in your suitcase to search for the last few pieces of clothing you had that were clean when there was a rap on the door and a pull of the handle not even a second later.

“Sarah, I need—“

You whipped around at the sound of a new voice entering the room. Your heart nearly burst out of your chest, feeling as though it was fighting its way out between your ribs as embarrassment began to flood your system. Even so, you stood too frozen to reach for something to cover yourself up.

Joel was in the doorway and dead silent, looking as if struck by lightning. Like earlier today, his hand had been resting on the doorknob and in the painfully short moment that the both of you were processing the situation, you saw that his grip tightened enough to whiten his knuckles.

And then it happened, the thing that had soaked you in forbidden desire and delicious excitement; his gaze had flickered down your body and taken you in for the briefest of seconds. His gaze had traveled from the hard peaks of your nipples to the shape of your hips and the softness of your young cunt.

“Fuck,” you heard him utter as he remembered himself and his self-awareness made you finally grab the top you were going to be wearing that day to cover up your quivering body. He slammed the door shut and spoke through it, “Christ, ’m so sorry, sweetheart.”

“It’s okay, Mr. Miller,” you promised but he was already gone. You immediately locked the door afterward to come so hard with two fingers on your clit that you had to hold onto the chair by the desk.

God, you want him to look at you like that again, want to tell him it is all for him. Now, as wrong as you know it is, you find yourself searching for an excuse to get him to ogle you and the chances are higher if he actually spends time with you.

“Hi, Mr. Miller,” you announce yourself as you enter the garage through the door in the kitchen. Joel has his head inside the hood of his truck, leaning over to inspect something that you wouldn’t understand anything about anyway. He grips the front side of the engine room to push himself to stand, closes the top of the hood of his truck, and turns around to face you.

“Hey kiddo,” he returns with a smile, “How many times do I gotta say to ya that it’s just Joel?”

“Alright, Mr. Miller,” you tease, “—I mean, Just Joel.”

You hear him laugh softly but you don’t dare look at him, afraid that you’ll spontaneously combust. He goes to the utility sink to wash his hands, saying nothing more and making you feel insane for coming apart in the silence.

“I’m just getting something to drink,” you explain when it becomes too much, “Sarah’s room is boiling hot.”

“That’s fine, take what you’d like,” he replies, and there’s a kind teasing in his voice. “But don’t touch the orange sodas. Those are mine.”

The concrete floor of the garage is cold on your bare feet as you pad across the floor where an old bottom-freezer refrigerator stands in the corner, humming in the otherwise quiet room. It has seen better days, and it seems like Sarah has tried to cheer up its weathered appearance by covering it in stickers and ugly magnets.

“Now I have to get one of those,” you giggle and pull the door open, scanning the contents and noticing that the sodas are on the bottom shelf. You hesitate for just a second, and then you choose to bend over instead of crouching down. Behind you, Joel Miller is completely silent.

In the beginning, it hadn’t been your intention to let the crush fester in your brain and turn it into something more but last week, during dinner out on the terrace, you had accidentally sat down on a bee and gotten stung on the back of your thigh. The cry you had let out had nearly made Joel tip over the table to get to you, his chair falling backward as he got up from his seat.

“Fuck! Ow ow ow!” You cried and hobbled around on the grass. The pain was unbearable but the shock only seemed to make it worse.

“Sarah, please get some ice and some antihistamines. There should be a bottle on my nightstand,” Joel ordered quickly and she rushed inside. He walked toward you, grabbing at your shoulders to ground you but his touch only heightened all other sensations. He dug his thumbs into you and your head swam, “Sweetheart, ‘tis just a bee, shh, calm down. I need to remove the stinger. Lemme see ya.”

“It really fucking hurts, Mr. Miller,” you said with a whine as he guided you to one of the loungers that Sarah and you had dragged out from the shed earlier that week.

“I know,” he finally let go of you so you could think just a bit more clearly, “Lemme take a look. Lie down on your front.”

You followed orders with the realization of how much you trusted his judgment, that he would treat you right, moving carefully because the flex of your thigh muscle was making the pain worse. The wooden lounger burned slightly against the front of your thighs, and you pressed your cheek into its slats while screwing your eyes shut.

The wood creaked behind you as he knelt on it with one knee and suddenly, his broad hand was perched on the top of your thigh in an attempt to keep your skin taut. You sucked in a breath but he only mistook it for more pain.

“It’s alright, sweetheart. I can see it,” his breath was slightly quicker but you didn’t want to jump to conclusions, “He really got ya right on your inner thigh. Hold on.”

Your eyes shot open when his thumb ran towards the innermost part of the back of your thigh, a sort of panicked arousal spiking from your chest and thighs. He paused for a second then murmured something, a swear word that you tried to take as frustration. There was a beat but then he cleared his throat, “Can you bend your leg a little? I wanna make sure that I get it on the first try.”

“How?” You asked stupidly. The image of how he would be looming over your backside made your heartbeat go down between your legs, “My dress’ll ride up.”

“Just bend the knee a little, pull it towards your chest,” he explained and cleared his throat once more, “On my life, I won’t look.”

So you did as he told you, and sure enough, your dress betrayed you by crawling slowly up to sit around your hip instead of the middle part of your thigh. You looked back at him when he started picking at the stinger with his nails, and you hoped that he would not notice your gawking at his concentrated expression.

A flash of the day he had barged in on you naked flashed in your mind because his eyes were so focused on not staring at you that you nearly whimpered when you saw his eyes flicker to the spot of dampness between your legs for no more than a second.

You had worn white cotton panties that day so they would not be seen through your dress. They were straining against your pussy in this position and all he had to do was reach out, and he’d find your clit poking against the fabric from how excited you were feeling.

He had had the perfect outline of your cunt, and it’s the same now as you bend over to get to the very bottom of the fridge, reaching for a cold drink that just happens to be his favorite. You know that he can see everything, and the worst is that you know he already has. Twice. The mere thought is so dirty that your heart starts pounding in your chest and sends heat through your already hot body, so you hurry to stretch to your full height again.

With a cocky grin that is mostly put on to hide your anxious excitement about what you have just done, you turn to face Joel and walk to stand in front of him and his car. His cologne fills your nostrils again, and the scent seems once again to have a direct line to your cunt because you have never felt more empty. In front of you, Joel’s jaw is clenched but other than that, he seems a lot more calm and composed than you.

That is until you jump onto the hood of the car and scoot back, letting your bare feet dangle out over the edge. You crack open the soda in your hand and take a sip that is a little longer than intended. The satisfying burn of the fizz grounds you in the warm climate, but it is even more heavenly as you tuck the skirt of your dress between your thighs so you can place the cold can there.

Joel shakes his head with a sigh but you know he is playing a game as much as you because he cannot help but crack a smile back at you, “You’re trouble, I knew it the second Sarah brought ya into my house.”

“Oh, whatever will I do?” You ask dramatically and lean back against the windshield.

“Go morally bankrupt?” He raises a brow. If only he knew what is going through your mind. You catch him looking at you in the fashion that you have craved when you sigh deeply and cause your chest to push out.

“Only that?” You take another sip and some of the contents spill down your chin in a thick, sticky trail due to the angle you’re sitting in. You reach up to wipe it away with your index finger and then dare to suck your finger clean with the intention of mimicking the way that you had licked it clean earlier when it had been coated in melted popsicle.

“Give it here,” he says. You lock eyes with him. However, your eyes widen slightly when he nods at the can and takes it from between your thighs. There’s electricity shooting through your nerves the second his fingers touch the fabric of your dress but they intensify to a dizzying degree when he takes a sip of the soda too.

Like a reflex, the sight of him drinking from the can that’s been nestled between your thighs makes your legs fall out to the sides. You’re worse than an obedient dog in your horniness, reacting the same way to the way he moves as it would to the sound of a bell ringing.

Your dress rides up slowly along your thighs, revealing your sweaty skin that feels sticky by now and Joel clears his throat after briefly looking down. He shifts his weight from one foot to the other, and when you realize the effect it has on the poor man, you grab the hem and pull upwards, “It’s so hot outside today. Don’t think I’ll ever get used to the heat here in Texas.”

“C’mon, sweetheart,” he says and his face has got a pinker tint, pulse visible on the side of his neck. With his free hand, he grabs one of your knees and starts nudging your legs together again. He yanks your skirt down, “I know I’m always teasin’ ya but you can’t be doing this.”

“Jesus Christ, Joel,” you say with exasperation and move your legs out again, “It’s just very hot… and it’s not like you haven’t had a peek.”

“Hey now,” he leans forward to place the can of soda on the roof of the truck, “That ain’t a fair accusation.”

“I’m not accusing you of anything,” you reply, chewing on your bottom lip, “But you’re not denying it.”

“Don’t tryna make me look like the pervert here,” he scolds, taking a step towards you and causing your stomach to do somersaults, “I noticed the way you went real quiet when my hands were on you.”

“What do you mean?” You furrow your brows in confusion, “Your hands were never on m–”

“Did that bee sting really hurt that much?” He clarifies. Oh, you think whilst he smirks with triumph. Something has switched in the air surrounding you, the atmosphere has become more daring, “Yeah, I saw her; your pussy wet f’me.”

It’s true. If you think about it too much, you can still feel your heartbeat in the places where he touched you, and the pulse is rapid and overwhelming. You can’t imagine what it'll be like if he touches you underneath your dress, even if it’s simply on the outside of your panties. The thought has your underwear starting to dampen, the fabric starting to stick to you, and make you painfully aware of the wetness between your legs.

“Did ya touch yourself after?” His eyes have darkened slightly. His pupils are dilating with desire for your answer, and you nod hesitantly, overwhelmed by the need to tell him everything.

“During my shower that you told me to take,” you confess and hear him make a sound low in his throat at the mental image, “I couldn’t stop myself— I wanted you so badly. The thought of you inside me...”

This is a crossroad, you realize, you’ve said your deepest secret of depravity. On one hand, you can bolt out the door or you can make a move to show him what you really came down here for. The latter is risky but Joel is so goddamn decent that you know that if he doesn’t want this - which you doubt is the case at this point - he’ll gently reject you and never mention it again if it means that his daughter will continue having a best friend.

However, as your mind races with scenarios of what could or could not happen in this moment, Joel pulls you back into reality as his hand, cold from gripping the can, rests on your knee again but this time, it doesn’t try to make you decent like before. Instead, it slides up under your skirt in such a slow motion that you find yourself holding your breath.

“Is this what’ll quiet down that mind of yours?” He asks in a low voice, eyes flickering from your face to down between your legs and back again, “If I take a peek more to get it outta our system?”

“What are you doing?” You ask as if you do not know. It’s your turn to be scandalized by bluntness, and you find yourself gripping his arm but not hard enough to signal that you do not want him to continue. You hope that he realizes that this is not you rejecting his advances.

“I ain’t doing nothin’ that you haven’t already silently begged me to do. Perhaps sometimes - and God help me, I will probably regret it - you just needa follow your instincts when a pretty girl like you has been sendin’ me heart eyes all week,” he almost sounds annoyed with you, and to stop yourself from being scolded, your hand loosens its grip on him until you remove it altogether. He smiles, “Good girl.”

“You shouldn’t—“ you feel a rush of blood to your head, adrenaline kicking in as your thoughts circle around the repercussions that this can bring. In all honesty, you had only walked in here to have Joel’s eyes on you but now, you are getting more than you bargained for and it is making you so turned on that your mind is clear and foggy at the same time. Boldly, you sit up on the car’s hood so you can reach for the buckle of Joel’s belt, “We shouldn’t be doing this.”

“You’re damn right we shouldn’t be doin’ this,” he agrees immediately but doesn’t stop. His warm and rough palms skim further up your thighs until they settle by your hips, his thumbs teasing the elastic band of your panties. He starts to drag them down, the fabric nearly snapping in two when you barely register that you have to lift your ass to help him.

His fingers unintentionally caress your calves as he slides the underwear down to eventually pull them off your ankles and feet. The sensation makes your body wake up even more, a gush of wetness smearing your inner thighs and you know that you have to pull your dress up soon if you don’t want it stained.

In front of you, Joel reads your mind. He shoves the hem of your dress up as far as he can without a word with desperation in his trembling hands, and you move to let him bunch it up around your waist so he has a full view of what waits - and for long has waited - for him.

When your cunt is revealed to him, he groans like he is in pain at the sight of the slick shining on your soft youthful skin. You can see how hard he is in his jeans, cock straining against the zipper at the front of them.

He looks like he wants to touch but hesitates. The first sign of his inner conflict. You remember that he did say just a peek as if there’s an unspoken agreement that he is not to cross the line of touching what he shouldn’t want to have. It would definitely be a nuclear decision if he chooses to do it anyway. It makes you want it even more, and another gush spills from your glistening slit when you clench from excitement.

Joel swears under his breath, something that sounds like fuck it and it sets it in stone; he is going to ruin you for eternity right here on his car. He steps closer until your spread knees bump into his sides, and without saying anything you move to yank his jeans and briefs down, settling them around his hips with a soft gasp as you take in the sight of his fully hard cock. He is huge. So huge that your mouth starts salivating like you’ve already been fucked stupid and your walls try to clamp down on nothing. It’ll hurt. You want it to if it means that you won’t doubt if it ever happened tomorrow.

“Tell me you want this too,” he seeks your reassurance.

“So fucking badly, Mr. Miller— Joel,” you say without any hint of second-guessing in your voice. You scoot further forward on the car and lean back so he has better access, trying your best to be elegant in your messy state, “Please, want you in me.”

“Jeez, honey,” his breath shakes, “Already so eager. I haven’t even felt if she’s ready f’me.”

With one hand gripping your left thigh, he uses two fingers on his right hand to slide through your wet folds and you don’t think you have ever been this turned on for anyone; when he flips his palm upwards and shoves two fingers inside of you, you feel more arousal drip from your cunt and pool in his hand. The longing you have felt since you saw him for the first time finds somewhere to empty all its desire and desperation into, and you whine like you’re in a state of agony.

“Shhh…” he soothes and curls his digits inside of you until you think you might start crying, squelching cunt trying to pull him further into you as he fingers you lazily. Your gaze drops to how his cock twitches whilst standing in the air, “You’re grippin’ me so good, doll, can’t wait to fuck this pussy. Don’t cry like that. Be patient.”

“Please, I’m so—“ your palms are flat on the hood of the car, your mouth hangs open in ecstasy and you stare down at where his ring- and middle finger disappears repeatedly into you, “It’s yours, please.”

“I know it’s mine, don’t gotta say it, I know,” he coos at each of your whimpers, gets you worked up until you are just on the brink of coming, and then he moves quickly. He pulls his fingers out of you, smears his cock with what you’ve soaked his whole palm with, and leans over your gasping frame to nudge at your quivering hole.

When he finally enters you, the both of you gasp in unison. He struggles with it for a moment, rubbing the skin just below your belly button to make you relax because he is so much bigger than you had first anticipated, and such a tight fit that you think he might split you in two.

“Goddamn, you are tight,” he says through gritted teeth, “Feels fuckin’ amazin’.”

“Ah,” you feel like letting yourself turn into a drooling mess already, pulsating around him from the way your body struggles to take him, “Joel, I can’t.”

“Yes, you can, honey,” he encourages, showing no signs of pulling out of you to free you from the burn of his girth. He growls low in his throat as you struggle with it, and you know it’s because your walls are clenching around him as you involuntarily move, “Stay still, let her get used to it.”

“It hurts,” you whine, sliding slightly on the metal underneath your ass. He presses his hips forward even further and causes you to whimper but in doing so, he holds you firmly in place by using his strong frame.

“I know but ya just gotta relax,” he goes on. He places one hand flat on the hood of the car and then places the other right on your hip, thumb going inwards to find your clit. It pulses under his finger, trying to find out whether to find the pain delicious or not.

When his thumb starts going in circles on you, your thigh muscles start to twitch and flex from burning desire instead of uncomfortable pain. He presses down a little to stroke your sensitive nub with even more determination and smiles at his success when a moan slips from your mouth, “That’s it, honey. Just enjoy this until you’re creamin’ on me, and then I can fuck her real good.”

Your walls start to flutter a few seconds after the first new round of pleasurable sounds leave you, and the more his finger moves on you, the easier it gets to take him because the pain turns into nothing more than a dull ache in the background of ecstasy. He has you breathing faster and faster, and in return, he starts moving his thumb up and down to make his touches more direct.

God, your clit is hardening underneath his torment. He stares at what he is doing, an occasional grunt leaving him from how you involuntarily squeeze his length, and you know that he can sense it, suddenly smirking to himself as you near your climax. He admires the sight of you, eyes glued to the way the hood of your clit has drawn back, “Babydoll, look at that. Such a pretty pussy, clit peekin’ out and all. Does she wanna come on my cock?”

“Please, yes, oh please,” you nod repeatedly, mouth hanging open in an o-shape and breaths coming out in small puffs. Your climax is within reach, and Joel looks concentrated as he more than willingly hands it over to you whilst buried deep inside of you. The concentration on his face is probably from keeping himself from spilling inside of you too soon, but God, he looks gorgeous as he determinedly strokes your cunt.

“Yes, yes, yesyesyes— oh God, I’m… fuck, I’m coming!” You shake with pleasure as he causes your pussy to spasm, your hands barely able to find out what to do and making you grab at both the metal underneath you with one hand and his wrist with the other. Your eyes are squeezed shut but you do not doubt that he is staring at you in awe as you come so hard that reality fades.

“Good girl,” he rasps, voice unsteady and hand hitting the hood of the car as the feeling becomes overwhelming, “Oh sweetheart, you’re choking my dick so g—“

He swears quietly and then loudly, and suddenly, his cool demeanor crumbles because he is spilling his load inside of you with a pathetic and strained grunt. His hips stutter slightly and warmth spreads slowly inside of you, mixing with your own arousal.

You look down to where the two of you are connected, feeling fucked out despite not even having had the chance to feel him move inside of you. His come has started to spill from you already, dripping obscenely from your cunt.

“Fuck,” you hear Joel say above you. He slips out of you and leaves you gaping and mewling for a second, starting to take a step back. You catch him with your legs before he is too far away, and he reluctantly steps close to you again. He looks embarrassed but gives you a smile to hide it, “Felt too good, honey. This pussy’s makin’ me all sweet on you.”

“I’m that irresistible?” You grin in your post-orgasmic haze, not really giving a crap about the lack of a proper fuck from how much dopamine is coursing through your veins.

Joel takes hold of your thighs as they are wrapped around your body and lifts them off of himself, “You’re makin’ an old bastard like me weak in the knees, so maybe. Hah! Comin’ too soon like a goddamn teenager.”

“I liked it,” you admit without hesitation, still basking in the sweet afterglow, “Made me feel sexy and powerful.”

He scoffs but can’t fight the smile on his face, “Now now, don’t get cocky on me. Crawl back a little, spread ya legs f’me.”

You giggle and do as you are told, presenting yourself to him on the hood of his car. You plant your bare feet on the metal, lay back against the windshield, and smile.

“Now look at that,” he tuts as he admires his work; white ropes of come dripping down from your slit and onto the surface beneath you. He lays both hands flat on the car and leans forward, and before you know it, his mouth is covering your whole cunt and he eats from you like he’s paid to do it.

“Jesus,” you groan, throwing your head back and grabbing onto the roof of the car with one hand whilst the other finds Joel’s hair. You tug and he moans against you, sending vibrations through your whole lower body and beginning the first stirrings of another high. You don’t think that you can take it, squirming just like you had done moments earlier.

Joel makes a sound of disapproval. He scoops his arms under your thighs until he can lay his hands on top of them, holding you tightly against his mouth and causing you to cry towards the ceiling when he makes your second orgasm approach so quickly that nothing in your brain makes sense except what he is doing between your legs.

The hand on the roof of his car goes to his head too. You slide your fingers on both hands through his hair until they lay at the back of his neck, and then you yank once more at the curls there. His tongue works at your clit, swiping back and forth over it until you think that you might see God.

However, it doesn’t stay there. Instead, it is replaced by his nose so that he can eat his own spill straight from you by dipping his tongue hungrily inside of you.

“Joel— holy fuck, you’re incredible,” you close your eyes to concentrate on your pleasure. Who knew that the man could fuck with his tongue? He is warm and wet inside of you, slurping pornographically until you are clean of any remains of his come.

You are just about to finish a second time when he halts whatever he is doing. He pulls back only a few inches so you can still feel his uneven breaths against your cunt.

“No! Please,” your eyes fly open, you cry desperately, and throw your head forward dramatically. You want to thrash but he still has your legs locked in his arms, so you decide to pull out the big guns and hope for the best, “Please, Daddy! Pleasepleaseplea—“

“What the fuck did you just say t’me?” He looks up at you but you are too busy screwing your eyes shut in agony whilst whining for more. He growls and releases one of your legs, “I was already gonna make you a happy young lady but now, I’m gonna make you come so hard your little brain goes dumb. See how it feels. Impatient girl.”

His hand goes between your legs. He turns his palm upwards and then shoves two thick fingers inside of your pussy like earlier, curling them slightly and then pumping them so quickly that blood starts speeding through your system a second after and your heart rate goes so fast that you know that you are just about to come.

“Joel, oh my— fuck!” You whimper.

“Wrong word,” he replies.

You correct yourself immediately because there’s no way he is stopping again to chastise you once more, “Daddy, oh I— mhmm, I’m gonna come for you. Don’t stop, please, please Daddy, pleasepleaseplea—!”

He responds just how you had liked: He closes his mouth around your swollen clit and sucks hard, finally severing all connection to your brain and you come so hard that you actually squeal. Joel groans against you, feeling you squeeze the digits he has buried deep inside you. He draws back his fingers, pressing upwards the whole way.

Clear liquid squirts from you the second he pulls them out. The gushes that follow are so intense that the leg he isn’t holding anymore shakes so violently that the metal rattles under you, the car staining with your come. He repeats the move again and again, over and over, and watches the steady trickle down the hood and onto the concrete floor that turns a dark gray.

Euphoria courses through your being as you come in a way that you have never felt before. Your limbs tingle as warmth spreads out from beneath your belly button, your cunt pulses with eager pleasure, and you sob through the waves that crash over you without giving you time to recover from the last. The whole room feels brighter and its colors more vibrant.

“Shh, baby, let it happen, feels so good, don’t it? That’s it,” Joel coos at you the whole way through, guides you through it when you barely know how to use your words. He has straightened to his full height again but you don’t know when, and he has slowed his fingers down to tease out a few aftershocks. You whimper feebly at each one, and when Joel seems satisfied with what he has drawn out of you, he covers your whole mound with his palm to soothe the feeling of overstimulation that settles.

“Soundproof,” he mutters, once again reading your mind when you come to your senses again and start thinking about your noise levels with furrowed brows and eyes flitting from him to the garage door. Your heartbeat has started to slow again, and the relief of knowing no one has been able to hear you makes you slump against the windshield and breathe deeply.

The remnants of your orgasm have made you smile, your body slipping into a deep state of satisfaction when the anxieties have been dispelled. Joel moves his hand up your lower body until it settles between your breasts, still covered by your dress. He caresses your heaving chest, looking at you boyishly for the first time, “You good? Didn’t cause any brain damage, did I?”

“You think this truck has ever seen action like that before?” You joke breathlessly.

“Probably ain’t the first time I disappointed a gorgeous lady in its presence,” he says with an apologetic smile, “Sorry ‘bout that.”

“Disappointed? You’re insane,” you stretch your arms above your head to get some of the last bits of euphoria out of your body, trying to ignore the way he has just called you a gorgeous lady. He probably means nothing by it. As your stretch peaks, you moan gently, “I came two times. Hard. I’m not complaining.”

“Just saying that I woulda liked to do it… properly, I guess,” he talks as he stuffs himself back into his underwear and pants, most likely trying to feel the least uncomfortable about mentioning his overexcitement. Automatically, he steps back when you jump off the car to adjust your dress.

“This doesn’t have to be a one-time thing,” you try to act casual as you say it but there’s no way you are accepting the best sex of your life to be a thing you will never have again, reducing it to a movie merely playing behind your eyelids as a cruel reminder of what is unattainable.

“And when would we have time for that?” He asks, zipping up his jeans. He wipes his hands on them, “We can’t, honey.”

“We just did,” you mumble, picking up your underwear from the floor. You turn the panties in your hands, just about to bend down to put them on before deciding against it. Boldly, you stand in front of him and stuff your sticky underwear into his front pocket; closest to his crotch. There are extra pairs in your bag in Sarah’s room. He can have these.

He looks down briefly and then finds your eyes. His jaw clenches as he weighs his words, “When?”

“Aren’t you driving me to the airport on Sunday?” You smile and kiss his cheek, and then you leave him, your soda in hand and a mess on the floor.

.

.

If you would like to follow my writing then go follow @notjustjavierpena-fics and turn on notifications 💖❤️

[hysteria-things]

smut w chris and goody 2 shoes reader who always acts so smart and innocent w people then acts like a brat to chris?

he gets sick of it and roughly fucks her into her place , caring less for her pleasure and using her just so she knows how much of a slut she is!

LESSON LEARNED

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: brat tamer!chris x fem!reader

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: you get taught a lesson when you act like a brat in public.

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: SMUT, swearing, spanking, humiliation, face fucking, dry humping, squirting, p in v, rough sex, degradation, a sprinkle of praising, overstimulation, unprotected sex (no bueno!)

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 2,502

𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫’𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: HAPPY KINKTOBER!!!

this is based off one of my blurbs from a while ago😜

your reputation to others is excellent. you’re a nice girl, who is outgoing and will always follow directions or help whoever is in need. goody two shoes is what people mostly describe you as, which isn’t that far off. however, when you’re with your significant other, your bratty side slips up.

“let me go!” you tell chris like you’re a toddler, stomping your feet while he leads you to his bedroom. “i’m being serious!”

opening the door, he lets go of your wrist to have you lead inside, yelping when his palm smacks your ass to usher you more quickly before bending you over the edge of his computer desk. pouting your lips, you hear his heavy breathing as he forcibly pulls up your skirt. you know what’s coming. your punishment.

your eyes start to well up, feeling the slightest bit bad that you acted like a brat in front of his friends, but you’re one of all things. “o-one.” you say between a sob when your boyfriend’s hand slaps your ass for the first time out of many to come tonight. you start spewing out apologies, wiggling in his grip that’s pinned your hands behind your back. “i’m sorry, okay?” you admit, his hand spanking you once more. “i didn’t mean to!”

“if you didn’t mean to you wouldn’t have done it in the first place.” chris snarls back, followed by another smack. “keep counting,” he says through gritted teeth.

SPANK.

your cries echo throughout the room as he continues to punish your reddening bottom. each slap lands with accuracy, leaving its mark on your tender skin. your tears fall on your cheeks now, mixing with the stinging sensation. “seven... eight... nine!" you wail, your voice hoarse from yelling. your body shakes with each impact, trying to squirm away another time. again, no use.

his palm connects again, the force jolting you. the pain courses to your core, pussy throbbing in response with a mix of mercy and arousal. “ten! i swear i won’t do it again!” you plea, desperate for at least some sympathy. alas, chris remains careless, his anger still fresh.

he acts like he didn’t even hear your lame apology, his focus only on disciplining you for your actions. raising his hand high, he prepares himself for another smack against your now-colored rear. “eleven.” he says under his breath, starting to count for you. the sound of skin meeting skin chimes, along with your pained whimper. he pauses for a moment, letting you take a breath to let your punishment sink in — and there’s no way out of it. then, without warning, his hand comes down again, striking your already sore ass with a vicious hit.

“twelve.” chris states clearly, his tone lacking mercy. he continues this harsh pattern, each spank followed by a number. “thirteen... fourteen... fifteen...” the more he counts, the more you sob.

“sixteen… seventeen!” you take back your job, shouting after each brutal strike. your body trembles, feeling like every nerve is in pain. the heat from your bruised cheeks radiate down to your thighs and the folds of your pussy. despite being punished, you feel thrilling and excited all in one. “eighteen... nineteen... twenty!” you choke out, your voice barely audible over your heavy breathing. the tears keep streaming, skin shining from sweat.

by the time his hand falls for the twentieth time, your bottom is a crimson mess. the sting lingers, knowing it’ll be that way for days. yet, you’ve never been so turned on.

chris finally stops after the last spank, admiring his work. your ass is a beautiful shade of red, the perfect blend of pain and pleasure. he can see the arousal glistening between your thighs, a clear visual of what this has been doing for you.

with a firm grip, he grabs your hair and pulls your head back, forcing you to look at him. his eyes stare into yours, filled with a mixture of anger and desire. “what a fucking brat.” he sneers, his other hand roughly groping your numbing ass cheek. he releases your hair, pushing himself off of you with so much force you fall to the ground, landing with a thud. from the impact, your butt stings even more.

curling into a ball, you wrap your arms in front of your legs and cry softly. “i-i’m sorry, chris.” you whine, voice shaking. the humiliation of being bent over and spanked like a naughty child, combined with the intense physical sensations, leaves you feeling vulnerable and exposed.

despite the pain, you can't ignore the ache between your legs. your cunt throbs with a need that it’s confusing. you’ve never felt this way before, and it scares you.

chris watches you on the floor, a smirk playing on his lips. he knows exactly what's going through your mind. “get up.” he snaps, standing tall and towering over you. “and get on the bed; on your knees. now.” he waits, expecting a protest, but he doesn’t receive one. that means it’s working.

once you're in position, he comes over, his cock already half hard. “if you're going to act like a brat, you'll learn how to get treated like one, too.” chris explains, running a hand through your hair. he unbuckles his jeans so they fall freely onto the floor, dick springing out right in front of you while gripping your hair and pushing his tip against your lips. “open up.”

trembling, you part your lips, allowing chris to guide his thick cock past them. the taste of pre-cum fills your mouth as he thrusts deeper, hitting the back of your throat. “mmph.” you gag slightly around his length, eyes glossy. you don’t pull away, of course. instead, you relax your jaw to accommodate him.

he sets a steady pace, fucking your face with elongated strokes. each snap of the hips sends vibrations through your head, making your nose pressed against his pelvis. your hands grasp at the sheets below, wanting to hold onto something since he’s in full domination. you’re uncomfortable, but your pussy continues to clench with need, juices dripping down your thighs. without thinking, you start humping the blanket to try and get friction on your clit like a bitch in heat.

groaning in satisfaction as he uses your mouth for his pleasure, he can feel your throat tighten around him, fighting to breathe around his girth. “that’s it, take it all.” he grunts, holding your head in place as he ruts in and out of your stretched lips. “this is what brats like you deserve.”

taking his free hand, he reaches down to cup your chin, tilting your face up to meet his gaze. the sight of you, tear-streaked and submissive, only makes him want more. noticing your desperate humping, he chuckles deeply. “look at you, getting off like a pretty little thing. you do enjoy this, don't you?”

you moan muffled around chris’ cock as he continues to use your mouth, driving you wild. “mmph! mmph!” you manage to respond, nodding frantically at his question. your hips buck harder against the bed, chasing the friction your clit needs. your pussy clenches tightly, a clear substance gushing out to soak the bedding beneath you.

seeing you drench the sheets, he grins, knowing he's pushed you to ultimate submission. he speeds up his thrusts, fucking your face with more power. “yeah.” he grunts, watching you fall apart beneath him. “you filthy slut. show me how much you love taking this dick like a good little whore.”

his words are degrading, but you enjoy the hell out of it. your mind goes blank, focusing on the feeling of his cock in your mouth and the desperate need pulsing between your thighs. sensing your climax, he pulls out abruptly, leaving you gasping for air and drooling. before you can recover, he flips you over onto your back and yanks your legs apart.

panting heavily, you stare up at chris in a daze, your body still shaking from the intensity of the previous actions. the sudden loss of his dick in your mouth leaves you feeling empty. you. want. more.

the exposing of your dripping cunt has his eyes widen, as if he’s a kid in a candy shop. “jesus, chris.” you whimper, feeling ashamed by how pathetic you seem right now. “please.” you’re desperate, not even sure what you're begging for anymore. release? punishment? his harsh words? all you know is that you’re craving every bit of him.

chris takes in the sight of your exposed, fluttering hole, his horniness shooting straight to his dick. “you want it?” he murmurs, his fingers tracing the swollen slit of your pussy. “you want my cock inside you; stretching out every inch of this needy pussy?”

when you’re about to answer, he lines himself up and plows in deep, burying himself in one stroke. a guttural groan rips from his chest at the tightness gripping him. “holy shit, you were made for this.” chris exhales, each pump of his hips driving him impossibly deeper. “taking my cock like the perfect slut you are.”

a sharp cry tickles your throat as he thrusts into you, the sudden stretch sending waves of pleasure and pain through your core. your nails dig into the sheets as he fucks you, each ruthless thrust hitting that sweet spot inside you and sending stars flying behind your eyelids. “yeah! oh, fuck, yeah!” you shout, your hips bucking fast to meet his brutal rhythm. “making me feel so good!”

the filthy words spill from your lips before it’s too late, fueled by the overwhelming pleasure you’re experiencing. you’ve never felt so full. his cock is hard inside you, pounding repeatedly against your cervix with each stroke.

his eyes flash with possession as he rails into you, living for the way your cunt clenches around him, gripping him deep. his balls slap against your ass with every violent thrust, the lewd sound mixing with your wanton cries. “mhm, scream for me.” he says, angling his hips to hit your g-spot just right. “let everyone hear what a cock sleeve you are for me.”

leaning down to your chest, he takes a nipple and swirls his tongue around it. his other hand snakes between your bodies to rub circles over your clit, wanting to push you over the edge. “cum on my cock, you filthy girl.” chris demands, his voice filled with lust.

each bite to your nipple sends sparks of ecstasy through your veins while his stimulation on your clit has you close to the brink of release. “oh god, oh god! i’m-i’m gonna—” your words turn into incoherent babbling as the waves of your orgasm crash over you. your pussy clamps down viciously on his length, milking him as your body shakes and becomes limp beneath him.

the grip on your clit tightens, prolonging your pleasure as he chases his release. with a final, sharp thrust, he buries himself and cums inside you, filling your spasming cunt with his seed. his cock throbs with each string until he collapses on top of you, his weight pushing you further into the mattress. “fuck, that was amazing.” he pants, nuzzling into the crook of your neck. “and it’s all for me.” he whispers in your ear, referring to your body.

after a moment of silence, he pulls out with a wet pop. a trail of cum flows, painting your thighs with its sticky substance. he rolls off of you with a satisfied smile, but bites his lip when he spots his cum on you. “turn around and show me that pretty ass.”

“what—” you’re cut off when he guides you on your hands and knees, in the position he wants you in. his favorite; ass up with your pussy on full display. a shiver runs down your spine. it was silly to think you were getting off the hook that easy.

he shifts behind you, hands grasping your thighs as he aligns himself between your spread legs. one finger traces the marks he left earlier, your hips backing into him unknowingly. “so eager. tell me what you need, slut. beg for it.” he pushes the head of his cock against your entrance, letting you feel his growing erection.

chris waits patiently, your body practically calling his name to be filled again. he can see the desperation in the way you arch your back, presenting yourself even more. “you know what to say.” he points out. “i want to hear those dirty words from your smart mouth.”

he delivers a sharp smack to one cheek, watching the flesh jiggle and flush pink under the force. he massages the sting away, waiting for you to give him what he wants. “please, chris.” you pout, feeling embarrassed about how at this moment you can’t live without his cock. “please, fuck me again, baby. use me however you want.” it seems like you don’t know who you are anymore. hours ago you were tough and mighty, but now you’re small and submissive.

pulling you back against him, he lines up his dick with your soaked sex. “that’s it, princess.” he says, his breath hot against your ear. “swallowing my cock like the good girl i know.”

bullying himself inside of your used hole, your eyes roll back from being filled with him again. just as before, you wrap deliciously around him. he sets a quick pace, the sound of your bodies conjoining bouncing off of the walls. “you’re still so tight.” he hisses.

your mouth falls open in a silent scream as he slams into you, the wideness spreading you open and hitting spots you didn't know existed. it’s almost too much, but you love it. “yes! yes! yes!” you cry out, meeting each of his powerful thrusts. “h-harder.”

the explicit sounds of your guys’ love making fill the air, conjoining with your moans and the slap of skin. you can feel another orgasm building, your walls fluttering wildly around his base. “do-don’t stop. don't ever stop.” you babble incoherently, lost in the trance of ecstasy. “i’m g-gonna—”

feeling your gummy walls squeeze around him, chris is determined to bring you to release. “cum for me.” he insists, brunette strands sticking to his forehead. “come on, give it to me.”

he can feel his own high approaching, his balls tightening as he nears. he holds back, wanting to put you before him. walls spasming, your moans become a higher pitch. “i’m cumming! fuck, i’m—” you don’t finish your sentence when the familiar ring of white moves down his shaft. chris fills you up one more time shortly after, ropes of cum shooting into your womb.

exhausted is an understatement. you know damn well you’re going to be walking from side to side for days, possibly weeks. “i love you so fucking much.” he breathes from next to you, kissing your shoulder. you hum in response, shutting your eyes. if that didn’t make you learn your lesson, you don’t know what will.

𝐭𝐚𝐠 𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭!

@bunbunbl0gs @lexisecretaccx @thy-mission @angelic-sturniolos111 @sophssturn @moncherriis @janiellasblog @blahbel668 @meg-sturniolo @mattslolita @sturnbaby @imwetforyourmom @tillies33ssss @sturnifyed @raysmayhem-72 @ripmattitude @p1xieswrld @alorsxsturn @multiluvr @delilahprentiss @tworosesblackthorn @gnxosblog @junnniiieee07 @flowerxbunnie @imaslut4kehlani @sturniolosandmoree @hearrtsturns @freshsturns @etershine @sukiipjs @h3arts4harry @sturnioloblogs @creamoncreamoncream2 @ivyyyyyysposts @iluvm4ttsturni0l0 @mbsbaby @mattsdollie @thesturniolos @nononopenono1 @bitchydragonparadise @gdsvhtwa @hrt-attack @dwntwn-strnlo @venusbabysblog @meerkatzthings @bernardsbendystraws @hoes4matthew @deareststurns

[suiana]

(yandere! doctor x gn! patient) (cw: nsfw, yandere stuff, drugging, bribery, dubcon?)

your doctor is a little weird, you think.

he's a nice guy, yeah. does his work well, always smiling and constantly reassuring you that nothing's wrong with you. sending you off with a nice pat on the back as he emails you your prescription yet again.

but he's nowhere near professional.

his hands linger on your body far longer than what would be considered appropriate. eyes dark and unreadable as you tell him about your lovely significant other that's waiting for you outside of his office. how he'd try and talk bout his own life in an attempt to get you to stay in his office more...

if anything, he acts more like a possessive boyfriend than your doctor.

though you suppose he's just a little eccentric like that. he's a reputable doctor. everyone loves him, and so do you! he's treated you numerous times and his checkups are always so thorough. surely you can just let his... odd behaviour slide.

today you're coming in for a body checkup. lately you've been feeling dizzy and warm despite it being the middle of winter. you wonder if it's because you've gotten ill or someone's poisioning you. after all, there's been some weird holes in your arm whenever you wake up lately.

your excellent doctor has scheduled you in at 4.30 in the afternoon. he was busy earlier today, he says. you understand, he's a busy doctor. your spouse hasn't ended their shift yet so you came in alone. they haven't been answering your texts since they left home earlier today. you can only hope that they've been busy, you'll ask them when they come home.

entering his office, you are met with his polite smile and his melodious voice.

"please sit."

you obey, sitting down in the seat in front of him as you fiddle with your fingers. your doctor looks rather... distracted today. his usually tidy hair is a mess, his glasses wet as though they had just been cleaned.

"it seems that you are feeling warm and under the weather. do you have any other symptoms, my dear?"

"yes... i've been feeling rather..."

you pause, not knowing how to say it.

"aroused?"

you nod. your doctor seems to know you so well.

he hums, going back to his screen before putting on a pair of medical gloves and gesturing for you to lay down on the bed nearby. you oblige. hopefully he'll figure out what's going on with your body.

he starts off normally, prodding and pressing against certain areas of your body. you answer accordingly when he asks you whether they hurt, whether you feel weird or not. it's like any other medical examination.

"so how's your lover been?"

small talk. you realize he's always been a big fan of small talk. asking about your life, humming and smiling as he replies with answers about his own life too. sometimes he says something personal about your life, like how you go shopping on saturdays with your lover or how you sleep with the lights off. you wonder how he knows, is he stalking you? but you shake your head at the thought. you must've told him and forgot.

"they've been... fine. haven't texted me back yet unfortunately."

"mn, i see."

silence washes over the two of you as he continues prodding and touching you. his touches linger, soft and almost as though he was yearning to touch you even more. his tone of voice was nonchalant, like he didn't care.

you feel slightly uncomfortable.

"um..."

"hm?"

"i-i... i guess i'm worried about them. ever since they went out to work in the morning they haven't replied..."

"i am aware."

you remain quiet after that, pursing your lips as you ignore the way his touches have you growing progressively more turned on. you figure it must be a side effect of your condition.

"my dear, can you tell me what you feel what i touch you here?"

"huh? w- h-hey..."

you let out a soft moan as his gloved hands caress your clothed thighs. calm down, he says. it's just a part of the examination. you shudder slightly, squeezing your eyes shut. you feel the warmth in you grow as he continues to gently caress your thighs.

he's right, it's just a medical examination. he wouldn't touch you like that. plus, you have a significant other already. you shouldn't be feeling like this because of his touches. it's wrong.

you exhale shakily, fluttering your eyes open as you stare at him.

"i-it feels nice..? it makes the warmth worse, doc."

"i see... what about over here?"

you let out a gasp, eyes widening so wide you were sure they'd pop out of your skull. where... were his hands touching? surely you're dreaming?

but you weren't. when you looked down, you could clearly see his hands on your nether regions, gently groping and caressing the area.

"w-what are you-"

"i am merely testing to see which parts of your body react to my touch. please do not worry, my dear. this is all medical procedure."

"but it's my-"

"shh... i know. does it feel good? what do you feel?"

you shiver under his touch, whimpering softly as you try sitting up. were you overthinking it? he's just your doctor. this is part of the examination, it's fine.

yet you feel as though his touches have a deeper and more sinister meaning behind them.

"please don't-"

"why not? i've seen your significant other touch you like this multiple times. you've always reacted wonderfully under their touch."

"h-huh?"

your doctor pauses, eyes widening slightly before he lets out a chuckle. his hands continue palming and caressing your privates, almost as though he was... toying with you. with every touch you feel yourself getting more and more worked up, cheeks flushing even more.

"oh dear, i haven't told you have i? i've been keeping a close eye on you... i thought you'd have figured it out by now. your lover certainly has."

you squeeze your eyes shut as his touch, your mind growing fuzzy. what.. did he say? you can't quite understand... all you can feel is how bothered you're getting and how you want him to touch you even more.

"i am pleasantly surprised with how well you are reacting to my touch. i never expected you to react so positively to the drug."

"d-drug? ah... no... don't grope me like that..."

he continues palming at your clothed privates, a calm smile on his face. you can faintly make out the way his cheeks were turning red and the hardening of his pants.

"right, i did tell them not to tell you... my dear, your significant other has left you."

"no... what are you... talking about doc? hah... how would you know anyway..?"

"oh, because i told them to. i gave them some money a few months back and they've been working for me up until... today."

if you were a little more sober, you would've pushed him away and ran for your phone. unfortunately, the aphrodisiac you had been injected with last night has reduced you into a needy thing desperate for his touch.

"what did you do-"

"well my dear, didn't you notice the injection marks in your arm? your significant other had been administering you with tiny dosages of this particular drug i've given them. it's supposed to make you feel good."

"g-good..?"

you hear your doctor chuckle, his hands moving away from your sensitive parts. only to quickly undo the buckle of your pants and slip his hand down on your newly exposed skin.

your breath hitches, hips instictively bucking against his hand as you let out a low whine. you can't think anymore. your brain is so muddled with feeling good that you aren't even worried or disgusted by what he's saying. all you want is him, him, him. he makes you feel good.

"yes my love, good. aren't you feeling good right now?"

"mn mhm!"

you nod your head eagerly as his hands gently toy with your sex, rubbing and fondling you gently. he continues smiling down at you, pleasuring you with his fingers before pulling away. you whimper, face hot and red as you desperately try and pull him back. why would he do that? he was just making you feel so good...

"haha, you want me to continue touching you?"

you nod again. your doctor grins widely at your words, taking off his gloves before you hear the clink of his belt hit the floor.

"well, i suppose i'll get on with my second part of the medical examination now then."

[bbyobbyo]

seventeen as dads headcanons

content: reader is married to svt, normative(?) family structure, literally just unhinged thoughts, not proofread lol

note: was trying to write an actual fic but then got distracted sorry, dadventeen brainrot is so real

Seungcheol

Super protective “don’t touch my family” dad outwardly

All of his kids’ friends are straight up SCARED of him

But within the household he's the one sneaking ice cream when you say no, albeit guiltily

Shopping trips with him will always result in buying something for them and he is very willing to be taken advantage of

“Babe if I can’t spoil them now, they’re gonna grow up and move out before we know it!”

Tries his best to be handy around the house, but probably makes it worse, ends up calling Mingyu to come fix it

Jeonghan

DEFINITELY a “go ask your mom” dad

This man not only powerless, he doesn't even want the power, he's just here to have a good time and if you say they can't, then sorry kiddo

You can’t tell me that he doesn’t bring up becoming a family prank channel at least once a week

LOVES bragging to everyone else about his kid’s achievements, cannot shut up about them to anyone in a 5 foot radius tbh

His kids definitely talk to him about everything, which is great because he is SO nosy.

Has a list of all their best friends, enemies, and crushes at school somewhere on his notes app for future reference when they come to him for advice

Joshua

The REAL practical joke dad, admittedly made them cry a few times when they were younger and felt really bad about it

Perfect sweet husband and father in image, all of his kids know he’s actually lame af

Dominates the summer barbeques, UNDISPUTED GRILLMASTER

Super dependable, will drop everything if his family needs him and never goes back on his word

Gives surprisingly good fashion advice

Jun

Definitely walks around the neighborhood with his baby in a sling carrier strapped to his front, POINTS AT EVERYTHING OF INTEREST

When they start learning how to speak he adopts all his baby’s weird mannerisms (it started off as a cute joke but then realized he couldn’t stop)

Cries at every baby milestone until they’re like 10

Will not stop bringing up embarrassing childhood moments, especially in front of their kids’ friends/significant others

Cuts fruit for them instead of apologizing

Hoshi

Will fully ally himself with his kids

Like legit would do anything for them. ANYTHING.

I’m talking borderline go to his kid's school to beat up their hypothetical bullies himself sort of dad

The kids can always count on him to say yes if you say no

Absolutely DEVASTATED when they grow out of the tiger stuff he buys for them and become angsty teens

“What do you mean tigers aren’t cool? Do you not love your old man anymore?”

Wonwoo

Quiet doting dad

Definitely more affectionate when the kids are younger but gets into the awkward advice-giving stage when they grow up

LAME DAD JOKES GALORE, groaning is a regular activity in this household

Tries to google basic algebra every time his kids ask for help on math homework because he doesn’t want to admit he forgot everything

Chaotic af unsupervised. “Guess we’re having pizza again tonight kiddos” kinda dad because he cannot and should not cook

Jihoon

Another quiet dad, but make it savage

I feel like he would just love roasting his kids (affectionately of course)

And always overwhelmingly acts of service so his kids know they are loved

Allowance randomly appearing under their pillow, their favorite foods magically stocked in the fridge, always relenting to one last bedtime story no matter how tired he is

Would let you have final say but he makes it really clear he’s on their side and empathizes with them but its out of his hands

“Next time just don’t get caught, okay?” *winks*

Minghao

Loves loves loves just spending time with his babies

Doesn’t matter what he’s doing he just wants to be in the same room as them or cuddling and holding them

Emphasizes equality in your relationship so his kids can grow up with those values and learn to respect others

TURNS EVERYTHING INTO A LIFE LESSON OH MY GOD

Doesn’t believe in allowances but will cave and literally buy them anything they want if they ask

Would rather die than miss any important event (competition, speech, recital, talent show, graduation, etc.)

Mingyu

Absolute super dad, what can’t he do? Nonstop home improvement projects, cooks anything his kids are craving, offers to drive everyone everywhere

But also the whiniest dad ever lol constantly complains about people “ruining his system”

Absolutely FUCKS at the school bake sales, earns them twice the target fundraiser amounts because he's dilf material and knows how to get the moms to spill their pockets

Likes to have the final say, but you’re both usually on the same page in regards to discipline so his kids aren’t getting away with anything

Just the most supportive dad in the universe, the kids learn to never take him for granted

Seokmin

You already know his kids are gonna be spoiled rotten. He will be the favorite parent by default sorry I don't make the rules!!

His arms are the very definition of a safe space

Leaves all the discipline to you because he cannot keep a straight face when delivering a lecture (one time he made them cry and also ended up crying because he felt so bad)

Does so much embarrassing shit just to cheer his kids up when they have a bad day, acts surprised when they tell him he's cringe

Such a pushover that they are probably gonna make fun of him when they're older, but that's okay because they know there's no universe in which their dad will stop loving them

Seungkwan

As long as he can pick them up still, his kids are never on the ground for too long

Two words: SPORTS. DAD.

He could practically captain the cheerleading teams at their school with how many events he's been to

Knows all of his kids’ friends parents, they all get together and have coffee once a month actually

Nags nonstop and complains about everything he has to do for them, but is always diligent and does it without question

Gets so pouty when they start getting embarrassed to show affection, he WILL get his cheek kisses if it's the last thing he does!!

Vernon

Chillest dad in existence?!?

Literally as long as his kids are safe he doesn't give a single fuuuuckkk

“Sleepover? Yeah, call me when you're done and I'll pick you up.”

He WILL argue with you if he doesn't think there's a good reason to say no to them

So cute and encouraging to all their weird hobbies and phases throughout the years. “Lemme see” and “Really? Show me” are regular phrases in his vocabulary

His kids are definitely gonna inherit his legendary facial expressions afnngjdg

Chan

Super affectionate and doting, but also quite strict with them at times

“I just want the best for you, I want to see you succeed”

HAS A PHOTO OF THEM READY AT ANY TIME, lockscreen is a different shot of his kids every day and is eager to show it off even if no one asked

Not so subtly signs his kid up for dance lessons

Just the most encouraging dad ever, makes sure that they know making mistakes are a part of life and that he will always love them no matter what

[power-handmaiden]

Chuck Tingle interview

OK, here is the FINAL 2024 Tingles My Butt post, which I've been pretty hyped for. I still kind of can't believe this. While I was figuring out how I'd move on from 2024, @drchucktingle generously offered to answer some questions of mine to commemorate the end of my tingler project! Here they are!

-Considering that your process for tinglers is just to write it out and not stress about proofreading and editing, was it weird for you to see someone decide to go back, examine, and contemplate every single tingler published in the past decade?

the whole dang project was really wonderful for me, for exactly the reason you have just said. tinglers are very STREAM OF CONSCIOUS and only edited with one quick pass so while i think this adds to their honesty and rawness it also means that my time with them is limited. really watching someone go back through them at this depth was like reading a diary that i have not opened for many years, and it jumps around through time in a very beautiful way. it was very moving

-I love tingler character names. I personally admire how many great ones you come up with. (I never know what to name my ttrpg characters.) You just come up with all these great names that seemingly spring from nowhere, how do you do it?

DANG great question cant believe i have not been asked this before but yes there is a type of name that shows up in the tingleverse that is unusual and has a certain feeling and cadence that is very specific. if i am trotting along with sweet barbara and there is a name of a product or a place or something that has this tone we will say ‘oh thats a tingleverse name.’ the reason i wanted to do this in the books was as a very subtle way of saying these stories exist on a timeline that is RIGHT next to ours, so in some ways it is exactly the same as our world but there are these little cultural differences with things like chocolate milk and spaghetti and then with the names. you will have buckaroos like justin and sarah trotting along next to buckaroos named corb torbins-quill or borto lart.

-So, as a reader, reading from 2014 to now, old tinglers and new tinglers feel different to me. I believe you when you say tinglers have always been sincere, but they feel MORE sincere than they used to be. Like, I feel like there was some self-consciousness and irony in some of the early tinglers that you've since let go of and embraced the Chuck Tingle voice more. I don't know, am I imagining this, or does this square with your tingler writing journey? If it does, what has that process been like for you?

i think you are absolutely correct. the intention with tinglers was always to be a place for me to express myself with complete sincerity, but the practical way of HOW to trot like this took a bit of an evolution to arrive at. in other words i knew the basics, but actually refining the best way to express yourself and perform your art takes time. maybe in the same way goin back and watching season one of a tv show can feel very different from season three, even though they are part of the same expression. 

similar thing happened with in my chuck PRESENTATION as well, where my main focus was to stay anonymous so the metaphors i used to talk about my life were still true but laid on much thicker. even my attire was a large gi so that you would not even be able to see my shape, which has obviously changed now because i wear suits these days. all of this was a process of starting in a place i knew was important to me and then peeling off the parts that were not helping the message or expression over time

-Is there anything you could tell us about the significance of Borson Reems? I feel like he's more than just another Buck Trungle/Chuck Tangle/etc but I'm not sure what exactly...

yes borson reems is god. not that i believe in GOD in the way that most buckaroos talk about god (i am agnostic) but within the tingleverse, borson reems is an avatar for the creator of that world. technically i am borson reems, because i am writing the books. the question is: are we all the gods of our own little worlds that we create? i do not know, but when i look around at my buds and the joy and love they bring to various timelines they sure seem like gods to me

-A lot of no-sex tinglers (especially ones that aren't romance-focused) vary in terms of plot and structure a lot more than erotic tinglers. Is your writing process for these stories any different?

same process actually, but the sex scenes in tinglers are about 1500 to 2000 words long, and total tingler length is 4000 words which means if you are not including that portion you are going to have to come up with some creative way to fill that space in the story and a new axis for story to turn on. so the variety comes from me getting creative and trying out different axis points

-In "Not Pounded By My Book "Pounded In The Butt By My Non-Fungible Tingler That Is Literally This NFT" Because Of The Current Catastrophic Environmental And Ethical Impact" there are references to an earlier draft of the story that was never released because you ended up disagreeing with the message. Are there any other tinglers that never got finished and/or published, if you'd be willing to talk about any of them?

oh this is a VERY good question. the story of the NFT tingler is that when buckaroos were first talkin on nfts online and nobody really knew what they were, my first thoughts were just ‘oh this is interesting what the heck is this?’ this is my way with most CURRENT EVENTS. and i thought ‘this would be an interesting tingler, i suppose maybe i should make the tingler an ACTUAL nft’. this was in VERY early days so i did not really even understand what an nft was (neither did 99 percent of buckaroos yet honestly). so i looked into it just enough to actually MAKE a nft tingler that was a real nft and put it out. lasted for about thirty seconds before buckaroos were messaging saying ‘oh this is bad chuck you should look into what this is’ and i DID look into it and thought’ oh yeah this is terrible nevermind’. i took down the original and thought ‘well THIS is what art is all about. this is where i thrive in a world of moving living art that is in communication with itself’. so i dove into the research and actually started to understand NFTS and then i repurposed the story into a strongly anti-nft tingler and put that on out instead.

as far as OTHER tinglers that kind of move and breathe and live like this, in communication with the audience, GAY T-REX LAW FIRM is another very good example. that one i wrote early on and i think it was kind of in the model of something like fifty shade of grey, where issues of kink and consent and communication are not really handled well. i think at the time it came out the story was okay, but as time went on it always kind of bothered me and finally i thought ‘i love art that exists in the REAL WORLD and changes and evolves, so lets rewrite that story and fix some of these mistakes.’ honestly it is something i wish more artists would be open to. its okay to let something hold strong against a changing timeline, but it is also okay to explore what its like to take the notes that time gives us

-This one is about Chuck Tingle that exists in deeper layers of the Tingleverse that operate on tingler logic: what does the location inside his/your butt look like?

probably a nice mid-century modern home up in laurel canyon neighborhood of los angeles. kind of quiet and small like a cabin but also very cozy, like the kind of place where you would put on a crosby stills nash and young record on vinyl and gaze out into the woods for a while then walk down the hill for dinner at a little cafe where you spot some actor from a 60s tv show also having dinner in the corner booth. this basically sounds like the start of a tingler and in that tingler i will say the actor would be a bigfoot.

-OK this one is very self-indulgent but if you could help settle this frequent point of discussion I have with my wife- where do the following fit in the Tingleverse bigfoot/dinosaur/unicorn/living object(/human/does not apply?) taxonomy?

-a ghost of a regular human

-a regular human vampire

-a human/fish mermaid

-a sentient winged horse

-a sentient centipede large enough to wrap around a mountain several times (she is handsome)

alright lets trot through these. a GHOST is not one of the four tingle types so you can have a ghost racecar or a ghost unicorn or a ghost bigfoot. ghosts are outside of the four types and do not have a classification

a VAMPIRE is also outside of the four types. so you can have a vampire bigfoot or, of course, a vampire night bus. does not strictly fall into any of the four main categories

MERMAIDS are technically a long lost species of unicorn I DONT MAKE THE RULES I JUST EXPLAIN THEM. this makes the MERMOPED tingler a little confusing but i had to pick a category and that one went into living object. now that i mention it possibly the only tingler that is technically a double category of unicorn/living object.

WINGED HORSE is easy, thats a pegasus which is a species of unicorn just like a mermaid

a SENTIENT CENTIPEDE LARGE ENOUGH TO WRAP AROUND A MOUNTAIN is an ancient creature, therefore dinosaur tingler

-My other self-indulgent question: do you have a favorite bug? (Or second-favorite if you count Mothman as a bug)

i love finding spiders in the house and giving them a pet because they are doing a good job livin their lives doin their thing. close second would be a pretty ladybug

-Any thoughts on what tinglers will be like in 2025? Do you expect to be writing a lot of political tinglers again, like post-2016?

honestly i really do not like writing specifically political tinglers anymore, and the amount that i write has gradually dropped over time (i think ALL tinglers are political but in a different way). so honestly i think i will write a few political tinglers but not many. my hypothesis on this is that my HORROR NOVELS are very very political and so maybe i get a lot of these ideas out of my system that way now. when it comes to tinglers i just wanna explore my OWN mind and heart and butt more

THANK YOU for these wonderful questions and thank you for your tingler-a-day project it was so moving and powerful. what a treat it was an honor to be a part of something so beautiful. THIS PROVES LOVE IS REAL

[peanutpinet]

Protection - Sylus x Fem Hunter Reader

Prompt: When you were taking a stroll around the N109 zone, thinking that the brooch Sylus gave you would keep everyone out, but some men just couldn’t take a hint

A/N: We don’t really have much idea regarding the infrastructure of the N109 zone but I decided to keep it simple and make it somewhat like an actual city but ruthless yet lavish at the same time. Consider it more like Isle of the Lost from Descendants but more lavish in the sense that a lot of the rich corrupted people live here.

Warning: some cursing, degrading names (not from Sylus), protective yet aggressive Sylus (not aggressive towards MC), some other LADS characters mentioned (briefly), ending on a slight suggestive scene, not proofread

Disclaimer: I do not own the images nor the characters or you (the MC). All images were taken from Pinterest.

You were bored. Sylus was out for a business meeting whereas the twins were out cleaning up some mess that some of Sylus’ other henchmen created. Even Mephisto was nowhere to be seen. You’ve read the books you wanted to read in the library Sylus made for you. You even cleaned up the master bedroom, did laundry, and even updated your logbook regarding your findings on the aether core and about the N109, of course, you left out any significant details regarding Sylus and the twins in your logbook.

Sighing, you decided to walk through the penthouse that you were in until you noticed Sylus’ black card on his desk with a note attached next to it. “Did Mephisto come here just to deliver this card and note?” you thought to yourself as you opened the note

“I’m sorry that I might have to be back later than expected, sweetie. As compensation, here’s my card. Feel free to use any of the cars and buy anything you’d like. All charges on my card, of course. Wouldn’t want you to take out even a cent of your hunters’ savings. I’ll be back soon, sweetie. Mephisto will keep an eye on you but if anything happens, you call me and I’ll be there the second you ask me to”

At first, you thought that Sylus was teasing you because he has unlimited access to anything but then you decided to play along and use his card. You first used his card to pay for your rent, bills, and maybe decided to buy some gifts for your friends in Linkon, especially Tara.

As the day goes on, you finally decide to take one of Sylus’ cars and head out to grab some groceries, maybe head to a nearby restaurant or shop for something else. You first headed to the grocery store that was ridiculously priced. Well, what do you expect at a place that was exiled from everywhere else.

You were paying when one of the shopkeepers noticed your brooch and decided to give you a significant amount of discount. “S-sorry? Discount?” you questioned, as you were about to hand Sylus’ card which didn’t go unnoticed by the shopkeeper

“Yes. That brooch. It belongs to Onychinus and the card, it has Sylus’ name” the shopkeeper mentioned, making you even more confused

“O-okay, what does Sylus have to do with this? Did he threaten you?” you asked and the shopkeeper instead shook their head

“Oh dear no. It’s quite the opposite. Sylus actually helped us a long time ago. It was during his early days in the N109 zone, when he started to make a name for himself. He was quite the sweet boy. Despite not looking like it, he would always help the elders around. That’s why we would give discounts for him or anyone who wears that brooch which from what I remember, there were only 2 others, supposedly twins?” the shopkeeper mentioned while you just nod

After buying groceries, you decided to head to a nearby restaurant/bar. As you entered the place, you were again caught off guard by Sylus's influence in the N109 zone. Right as the receptionist was about to ask you about any reservation you’ve made until their eyes landed on the brooch you were wearing. Without saying anything else, they immediately directed you to a secluded area where along the way, you could feel everyone eyeing you; unsubtle whispering about the brooch that you were wearing.

“Isn’t that the Onychinus’ brooch?”

“Why is she wearing that brooch? No one has been able to get that brooch from Sylus at all”

“She’s probably his personal assistant or his personal whore”

You didn’t care about what they were saying about you but you were now more than intrigued about how valuable and influential Sylus truly was in this zone since he only needed the twins to clean up his mess. You didn’t realise that you had already been brought to your table until the waiter mentioned it to you. “Miss? Here’s your table. Please don’t hesitate to order anything or call us for anything at all. We’ll immediately charge it under Mr. Sylus’ name”

Before you could ask what the waiter meant with his second half of the sentence, he already left and you were all alone in a room upstairs of the restaurant where you could see the entirety of the place. Sighing, you decided to order some simple meals and while you were waiting, you decided to scroll on your phone where you got messages from Tara who asked how you were doing.

As your dinner came, you received another text message, this time was from Sylus. For once, you were actually excited despite seeing him practically every day.

“It seems you’ve gotten my message, kitten. I’ve also gotten several messages regarding your spending of the day. Though am a little disappointed that it’s nowhere near the amount I was expecting but we can change that overtime. I’m done with my business for the day and I’ll be seeing you soon. Sit tight, sweetie”

You then started to eat your dinner, just replying to some of your other colleagues when suddenly the waiter brought you a glass of wine. “I’m sorry, but I didn’t order this” you mentioned but instead, another voice came through the room you were in which confused you because you thought that only Sylus was allowed in here.

“I ordered for you. I saw you came into the restaurant and never have I seen anyone wearing that brooch other than Sylus or two of his minions come into here. You must be very special or have done something special to have gotten that brooch” the man came into the room as the waiter closed the door

You were about to call the waiter when the man stopped you. “Don’t bother. I owned the place. Now, what’s a pretty thing like you wearing that brooch doing here? Are you planning to have a meeting with someone? Or perhaps do business?”

“Is it wrong for a woman to be out on her own at a restaurant just to have time for herself and not be bothered by anyone?” you cuss back but instead of getting angry, the man only chuckled as he scoot closer to you while you were preparing for what he was going to do

“Of course not, there’s completely nothing wrong with that but you should know” the man came even closer, basically trapping you between the cushion and his slightly bigger figure. “Woman in the N109 zone are just pawns for us to get closer to a certain treasure. So, why not leave Sylus and just…”

He didn’t even get to utter any other word before you kicked his crotch, making him whine in pain. “You bitch” the man launch himself onto you but because you were a hunter, you were able to defend yourself and knock him down until he suddenly caught you off guard by swiping your leg and immediately got up to choke you onto the table.

Even as a hunter, you still struggle to find an opening, especially with your heart problems, you were gasping for air and even almost passed out had someone not removed the man off of you.

“It seems that the brooch isn’t enough message, is it, Max?” you heard Sylus’ voice as you felt a warm large hand wrapped around your waist comforting you; in contrast to the sharp tone Sylus was speaking with

You managed to take a quick glance and saw the man who you now know as Max was being choked by Sylus’ evol as the man of the hour seemed unfazed.

Within the few seconds you were in Sylus’ arm, you passed out from lack of air due to the choking and Sylus was internally trying to calm himself from what could have happened.

“S-sylus…you should know that killing me won’t give you the satisfaction you’re looking for” Max choked out. “Plus, you won’t be able to find a place for you to do personal business as you please”

Chuckling, Sylus turned to look at Max, his right eye was glowing to a brighter red hue. “You’re right. Killing you is too easy. It’s not satisfying at all. As for personal business, you don’t know me. I suggest you not make any assumptions regarding my business. But since you touched someone with the brooch, I think I should make myself clear to the entire zone, don’t you think this has become my business? So why don’t we continue this in my terms, hmm?”

Within a blink of an eye, Sylus teleported the three of you into this home and used his evol to chain Max. “Why don’t you hang around for a bit? I’ll be back. Don’t miss me too much, Max” Sylus chuckled to himself as he used his evol to tighten the chains around Max, especially around his neck

“B-boss? Miss hunter?” the twins were shocked to see you unconscious in Sylus’ arm while Sylus looks more annoyed with a hint of worry in his eyes

“She’ll be fine. Some sweat fucker touched her” Sylus mentioned, making the twins gasp in shock. “Even when she’s wearing the brooch?!” Luke questioned and Sylus nodded

“You two know what to do. Safe some fun for me though” Sylus smirked as the twins nodded. “Sure thing boss!!” with that, the twins went off to where Sylus imprisoned

Going into the master bedroom, Sylus laid you on the bed, helping you to take off your boots then going to take off his own coat before going to the bathroom to get a cold cloth for you.

Despite using his hands to harm and even take lives, you’re the only person he has ever been this gentle with. It’s as if one wrong touch and he could’ve done more harm instead of helping you. As Sylus was softly wiping your face, you slowly fluttered your eyes open and saw Sylus caressing your cheek. You slowly bring your hand to his hand that was on your cheek, calling out to him in a coarse voice.

“S-sylus?” you managed to call out to the man that’s in front of you

Sighing, Sylus was about to let go of your hand but you managed to hold his hand firmly in yours. “Sweetie, I’m just getting you water. I promise I’m not going anywhere” Sylus mentioned and only then did you slowly let go of his hand

Sylus took the glass of water he prepared for you and with his free hand gently snaked around your neck and pulled you up slowly, he brought the water to your mouth. “Drink. You need it” Sylus mentioned and you obliged

“Feeling better, sweetheart?” Sylus asked, placing the glass of water down but his other hand still holding your neck now also caressing it, making you hum. “Yeah, I’m okay. M’sorry for getting you tangled up in just a simple issue that I should’ve been able to handle” you apologised

“Why are you apologising?” Sylus questioned. “Sure, you’re a hunter but that doesn’t mean you're invincible and don’t need help. Needing help doesn’t mean you’re weak or unworthy of being a hunter, sweetie. There’s a reason why you need a partner” Sylus consoled you

“What about you then?” you asked back. “What about me, sweetheart?”

“Even if you can’t die, that doesn’t mean that you’re invincible either. Don’t you get hurt? Even if it’s not physically?” you questioned, making Sylus chuckle as he ruffled your hair

“Well, you mean like just now? Seeing you getting hurt and pinned down like that, gasping for air like your life depends on it. You might be physically hurt, but I’m also in pain. It pains me to see you in that state. In a state where you’re so vulnerable and unable to do anything, I almost burned the entire place down at that moment until I actually felt you in my arms and heard your heart slowly beating back at a normal pace” Sylus admitted, now cupping your face in his large hands

“I’m sorry for making you worried. I thought that the brooch would keep people away but it looks like some people just can’t take a hint” you sighed, trying to look away but instead, Sylus forced you to look at him. “Look at me, sweetheart” you turned to see Sylus whose eyes weren’t cold like they usually are. For once, it looked like his eyes were smiling

“It wasn’t your fault. What happened back there was out of your control. You’re right, some fuckers just can’t take a hint. So, instead of sulking about what happened in the past, why don’t we look past that and do other things?” Sylus smiled, brushing his nose against yours as he pressed his forehead on yours as well

“What other things would you do to help me get that image out of my mind, Mr Sylus?” you teased, wrapping your arms around his neck, making Sylus hold the back of your head with one of his hands while the other one was supporting his weight so he doesn’t crash onto you.

“Ooh? I can think of several ways to help ease your mind, kitten. Starting by giving you a different kind of mark that will ensure no one has the balls to even so much look at you” Sylus smirked, leaning to close the gap between the two of you

A/N: OMG thank you so so much to the LADS community for liking my first LADS/Sylus fic, I'm new to the game and community and am already fangirling hard T^T well, here's to a better mental health with the LADS men despite their tragic backstories :')

[thexsilentxwordsmith]

Simon "Ghost" Riley x Fem!Reader

Simon needing to hold you after a bad day.

The tiny apartment was completely silent as Simon unlocked the door and stepped inside, head hung low and shoulders tense. Lights were turned down, tv was off; you were most likely already asleep by now. It was late, much later than he had told you he’d be back, but he had been struggling with the weight of his thoughts again today and had barely made it in. He would have let you know that he was going to be late… it was just…he couldn’t find the will to even shoot you a quick text.

It wasn’t like him to be concerned about who knew where he was or what he was doing, choosing to distance himself from everything and everyone that could potentially catch a glimpse of him cracking behind the mask, but right now all he wanted was to get back to the place he called home before he fell apart and the world would swallow him whole.

As quietly as he could he set his things down beside the door and continued on through the flat, catching little bits of you everywhere: your shoes lying scattered by the wall, the blanket you’d just been curled up in tossed haphazardly in a bundle on the sofa, a mug on the coffee table that had the remnants of your drink stuck to the inside. Scattered bits of you everywhere across his life as little reminders of what he had that waited for him here and for the first time all day it felt a little easier to breathe to know his angel was close by.

Passing near the kitchen, Simon spotted a piece of paper with his name scribbled on the front waiting for him on the countertop, your familiar handwriting obvious to his eye. He picked it up and unfolded it.

Hey baby,

I really tried to stay up, I promise, but you know how work has been kicking my ass lately. I thought maybe I could just take a nap until you got in, but I was worried that if I laid down I wouldn’t wake up, so I thought I’d leave this here for you to find. Didn’t want you to think I forgot about you. Just wake me when you get in, alright? I don’t care what time it is, I want to see you!

Love you.

P.S. I left some dinner in the fridge if you haven’t eaten yet. We can reheat it and eat it together. XOXO 

Christ, what did he do to deserve all this?

Always looking out for him, always making sure he had a place back in the real world whenever he came home. He held that piece of paper between his hardened fingers, the note more significant than it should have been after the type of day he had. You were the closest to heaven as he could get, more than he ever thought he would get to have and that’s why it was you he was trying to break down that wall to come to for comfort. 

His sight flicked to the fridge where you said you’d left him something; he was definitely starving, but just the thought of the effort it would take to eat right now was too much and the knot that rested in the pit of his stomach made him too nauseous anyway. There was something that would fill him far better than food could and he knew just where to find it now.

Moving on to the living room, he set himself down heavily on the couch and began to remove his boots and the outer layers of his clothing along with his mask, stripping away all the bits of his life as the stone cold sniper now that he was safe here in his little sanctuary. Stripped bare until he was down to his boxers, Simon gently crept towards the back of the apartment hoping he would make it to the bedroom before this feeling took him. 

Closer and closer he walked towards the other half of his heart.

The door stood slightly ajar to invite him inside and as he stepped up to it, he caught the hushed, rhythmic sounds of your breathing as you slumbered. It sounded so peaceful that he could have stood there in the dimly lit hallway and listen to it all night long. Just a few more steps, barely any distance left, and he would truly be home.

The room was completely dark save for the small crack in the curtains that let in just a bit of light from the streetlamp outside, helping him to find his way through the maze of darkness. As those brown eyes adjusted to the lack of light, Simon turned his attention to the bed and his heart skipped a beat. There you were: the outline of your body silhouetted under the covers, your head buried in your pillow, all cares left behind as you slept.

No sound did he make as he crept to the edge of the bed and lifted the sheets so that he could climb inside and up against your body laying in the center. One strong arm slipped up under your pillowed head while the other wrapped around your waist until you were encircled and he pulled you slowly so that your back rested up against his chest. His body molded into yours still warm from being wrapped up tight.

You stirred awake gently at the feeling of that familiar large body suddenly laying beside you. “Hey you,” you whispered sleepily, a smile on your lips as your eyes fluttered as they worked to open. “Tried to wait up, but I got so tired I had to go lay down. I’m sorry, but I’ll make it up to you.”

Only silence greeted you as a response. No chuckle at your predictability, no picking remarks about how you couldn’t even stay up to see him, just the sound of labored breaths in and out as he lay there in the darkness curled up against you.

Silence only meant one thing and you knew it well.

“You okay baby?” you asked, but again there was no answer. Only the squeeze of his arm around your waist pulling you in tighter to his chest gave you any sort of reply as Simon’s nose nuzzled into the crook of your neck, his eyelashes brushing over your skin.

It was clear just from the silence that he was far from okay, that he must have been bottling this up for God knows how many hours so that the world would not see that he was not always the tough, put together soldier he was supposed to be. But he could not hide it from you...he didn't want to hide it from you.

You heard him inhale deeply, trying to capture as much of your scent as he could until it filled his head: your natural musk mixed with the smell of the sheets and added hints of shampoo and body wash. That comforting scent that belonged to only you that he couldn't ever get enough of, the one that helped to relax his troubled mind. Instantly the tension he had been carrying like a boulder upon his shoulders all day finally released him from its stranglehold. 

Gentle, exploring hands tentatively went up under your baggy shirt, one of his old worn ones you loved to wear to bed to keep him close even when he wasn’t there, as he just wanted to make contact with all that delicately soft skin. He traced over curved paths he knew by touch alone: it was soft, it was familiar, it was safe and his heartbeat slowed as the ache in his chest dissipated enough that he could finally talk.

“Bad day,” he whispered finally, warm breath against your shoulder. "Really fuckin' bad day... again."

You rolled over in his arms until you came face to face with those sad auburn eyes, moved by the shame in his tone. It broke your heart that each time he had one of these days he felt such guilt about it, as if he simply should have been over it all by now, as if he wasn't human, but you were not about to let him overthink the struggle. There was nothing to be shameful about.

“I’m sorry baby. These things just happen, you know, but its alright; we'll get through it together, ” you said quietly, fingertips gently running over the line of his eyebrow, down his cheekbone and further to his jaw in soothing circles.

Together.

Simon closed his eyes and eased into your hand as you traced patterns across his temple and through the cropped sides of his hair, letting the vile, churning thoughts rummaging around in his brain to fall away. No one else could ever see him like this save for you, no one else's touch he craved more than anything to bring him back into himself after the day had brought him down so low. 

He brought his hand up and placed the tough palm over top of yours to hold it firmly against his cheek as if to make sure that all of this was real, that you were not simply a mirage cast by his broken mind. 

“You’re home now, baby,” you reassured him as he took deep breaths in and out with his eyes closed, only wanting to feel you. “It’s gonna be okay, I got you.”

Home, still such a strange word for him.

Wherever you were that was home. Not a place, but a person, one who made certain that no matter how far he drifted she would always pull him back in. Simon had never had such a tether before, but fuck did he need it. He could feel it like medicine running through his blood, when you held him he could feel the chemicals rush to soothe the gaping wound in his heart.

Pulling your hand off his cheek, he brought it to his mouth and pressed his lips to the surface before leaning in to give one to your gentle lips. You embraced him back with such tenderness as if to remind him of that promise you had made to each other that neither of you would have to traverse the hell of this world alone.

“Home,” he repeated the tender word in his gravely tone, letting the emotionless second mask fall away. "I hope ya know... that you are my home, sweetheart."

You smiled. "You're mine too, Simon."

He took a deep breath, trying to swallow down the lump in his throat. "Bein' near ya is the only fuckin' thing that seems to help quiet the shit in my 'ead these days."

Pulling him back in, you gave him another kiss. "Then get nice and close," you said softly as you squirmed up under him more, setting his arm back over you.

Securing his arms around you again he moved over top of you so that his head rested against the middle of your chest, ear pressed in against your sternum to listen to your heartbeat rhythmically thump inside. With his hand still inside your shirt he drew his fingertips along your bare hips, not wanting anything more than your company tonight. 

Your calming fingers ran through his short hair and over his scalp as he counted the beats of your heart until he melted into your body. Discussion could happen later if and when he was ready, for now this was all he needed. However long he wanted to cling to your torso, you’d let him.

You were his life raft, pulling him back in and no matter how far he drifted and it was because of you that for the first time in his life he didn’t feel like he was going to get lost.  

[aphrodeiities]

ᴛʜᴇ 2° ɪɴ ᴀꜱᴛʀᴏʟᴏɢʏ - ᴛʜᴇ ꜱᴜᴘʀᴇᴍᴇ ꜰᴇᴍɪɴɪɴᴇ

involves my own research along with the help of janduz.

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THE DEGREE IN THE SIGNS.

THE DEGREE IN THE PLANETS.

THE DEGREE IN THE HOUSES.

♱ the 2° is about significant changes, and where you have supreme power. its a degree that is a about grace and supreme femininity. a degree that entails where one is cooperative and beautiful, where someone is influential and easily hurt. this degree is about being protective, empathetic and where you might sometimes not know where and when to make choices, where you want to bring peace and can be about your intuition?

what does it mean when the 2° occurs a lot in a chart?

the persons needs to learn what to value and how to value themselves. the person would also learn to be someone who knows how to make decisions and knowing when to depend on themselves and not being lenient on others all the time. when the degree occurs a lot in a chart, this can also mean the person can have enchantingly strong beauty.

THE 2° IN THE SIGNS

♇ 2° in aries - very beautiful people and can be very honest. due to this they could get into a lot of arguments, but they can be great humanitarians, the type to root for the underdog. this person is very influential and can have a very striking face, or others could describe their faces to be very feminine. when they're people who can be rational, other people could describe them to be very grounded and intuitive, but they're still the type to fight for the people they love, they're very protective people.

♇ 2° in taurus - very beautiful face, voice, neck and eyebrows. very empathetic and nurturing, can be great at handling finances, they could be influential with woman and can gain popularity from it. they can be considered a powerful member in their family, people usually listen to what they say. and they can value romantic relationships but are very sensitive, the one's i have come across are sensitive to sound.

♇ 2° in gemini - beautiful siblings, beautiful twin/children. influential words can easily move people, like the type to have their own cults if they wanted to. can help people embrace their femininity, though sometimes their words can hurt other people with what they say. beautiful hands, intelligent, can become a teacher, mediator between family and friends. could gain popularity online, can also be known for their worldly views, and how they perceive humanity; very graceful when communicating with other people and can charm the pants off someone.

♇ 2° in cancer - very beautiful face and mother. beautiful home, influential/popular matriarch or person within the family, graceful family and children. though might come from an argumentative family and now wants peace, so this person might like going out a lot because of this. could move out early and can be the favourite child, or the child that is listened to the most, people within the family could be protective over them, or the native could be very protective over family. might like to collect as well.

♇ 2° in leo - indicator of being famous, defensive over creativity and projects, protective over children, and even the fandoms they're in. powerful figure in their line of work, dominant in general; outstanding beauty, and when they're in competition, they normally triumph who they go against and can be very empathetic with children. could work in child-care, their childhood can be something that easily hurts them, sometimes might feel like they always have to prove their femininity.

♇ 2° in virgo - people might rely on them too much, could sometimes be controlling over other people, they are the epitome of "what a woman is supposed to be" standard, which is definitely toxic and problematic. this person's lesson is to not always fall into what the patriarchy tells them what to do. they can be someone who has an obsessive idea of what perfected beauty can be and might sometimes not know how to handle critique; can fall obsessed with working, powerful within a work-space.

♇ 2° in libra - very beautiful people; graceful, charming and likeable. can people a people pleaser, or had to be a mediator when they were young. can be someone who is very fragile, plus they can over-think about other people's opinions a bit too much. popular within their community and school, sometimes can be a slow learner, but influential people. have to learn to not be devil's advocate.

♇ 2° in scorpio - another indicator of someone being influential, people can obsess with their beauty or even finances/relationships. have striking features, great manifestors and can be someone who knows how to handle intense situations, since this is a venusian number, it can also mean they could like to change up their style all the time, can fall obsessed with plastic surgery. epitome of dark femme.

♇ 2° in sagittarius - Goddess like beauty and has much information a lotof stuff. always knows a guy who knows a guy; likes o swipe things under the rug, makes jokes about their trauma--the type of person other people admire when it comes to their beauty. this degree in sagittarius shows that they can be easily offended when it comes to their beliefs.

♇ 2° in capricorn - very sharp features, squared jaws and pointy chins. can find luck in their career world or can be self-employed, much grace and etiquette is valuable to them. could be sensitive about being restricted, likes to be free and likes to do their own thing. social cues are important to these people and they can be an example of what beauty is supposed to be, or even their work ethic.

♇ 2° in aquarius - very fairy like beauty, can be off-putting since the beauty can be extreme. and their beauty can be off-putting to other people. they normally have distinct voices and even a breathy one. can be someone who wants to break out of the patriarchal system, or can be considered a pick-me. valued for networking and can be a Humanitarian, feels strongly about world-peace and could have supreme powers within their friendship group.

♇ 2° in pisces - ethereal beauty, and people can put them on a pedestal because of it. can lose themselves during the pursue of beauty, but can also be someone who gets away with a lot of things. musically inclined and very spiritually powerful. can also brainwash people or can brainwash other people, and has an superiority complex. easily hurt and might victimise themselves a lot. needs to set boundaries with how they make money, could easily become famous.

THE 2° IN PLANETS

♱ 2° in sun - this degree in the planet sun implies of extreme beauty, being someone who is known to have much power and authority over people. people could deem the native to be someone who believes in themselves or needs to learn how to believe in themselves. but this person can also be someone who has a hurt ego so the critique of other people can easily damage them if they don't have enough confidence. can be someone who likes to change their appearance a lot.

♱ 2° in moon - this degree in the moon is another indicator of being very beautiful. listens to their intuition and their heart, if they don't do it, then its something they should start doing. can be someone who can have a strong hold over women and could be someone who is the peace-maker within their family. this degree in the moon shows the idea of the individual being someone who is very empathetic and emotional, could sometimes have a victim-mindset.

♱ 2° in mercury - can have a very beautiful voice, can speak things into existence, and can see through people very easily. could have much influence over their friends and siblings, even online or between their peers. people could look up to them because of how they think and their ideas. this degree in mercury shows that you are likely someone who is protective over yourself and it could be hard for people to pierce through your walls. can be someone who is co-operative, likes to work with other people, and can show empathy through their humour.

♱ 2° in venus - evidently, very beautiful person, beautiful sisters and female friends. could be someone who's a strong feminist and can understand how the patriarchy holds back women. could be someone who could like hyper-feminine aesthetic and being someone who likes to be in a society/community with women. can be influential to other women, or other women could influence them a lot. can be indecisive about their romantic love life, can be someone who has a lot of attractive romantic partners. many significant changes within their romantic love life and even sexuality.

♱ 2° in mars - could be attracted to beautiful men, or to women with very dashing features. it reminds me of anna lightwood. this degree in mars can also mean the person can sometimes like to pander towards men, this degree is the epitome of a graceful fighter or even dancer, could be someone others consider to be very protective, could focus on working out a lot, could either be very co-operative or likes to take the lead too much. could be influential over men. men could think they embody the perfect woman.

♱ 2° in jupiter - financially abundant future spouse. being someone who can go with the flow, might like it when other people take the lead, they need to learn how to take responsibility. very influential marriage, can be a pivotal point in their life, could be someone who is a devil's advocate or the voice of reason within their connection. could have supreme power over people's mindsets, can easily change the decisions of other people. could have much power and grace, it reminds me of a leopard.

♱ 2° in saturn - could have the grace of royalty, said person needs to learn how to be co-operative with other people. people who grow into their beauty, or they age very gracefully well. this degree in saturn shows that the person could be really respected, especially within their line of work. could be someone who is usually given much responsibility from other people. needs to learn how to be empathetic with other people, but this could also mean the person needs to make significant changes with how they restrict themselves and how they interact with other people.

♱ 2° in uranus - could have much influences within their friendship group. could need to change about who they allow into their friendship life, can be someone who has a unique and airy type of beauty, it reminds me of a nymph, this degree in uranus could also imply that they are someone who is easily empathetic with the people around them. a humanitarian indicator, person can be someone who could have a very big ego as well, could always like to be right.

♱ 2° in neptune - people could want to copy their beauty and their aesthetic. could be someone who has much respect in a spiritual community, they could be someone who needs to learn how and when to pull their rose coloured glasses away from their eyes and be comfortable in reality, can be someone who sometimes doesnt know what they want in their life, but they can become very spiritually inclined in the future, real belief in themselves, sometimes might feel like they have to follow patriarchal views of femininity.

♱ 2° in pluto - could have so much power, and could go through the life lesson of learning how to handle it and not abuse their power. this degree in pluto can show a lot of people could worship them, especially their sexuality and their status. this is another indicator of a dark feminine, person could like dark clothing or dark make-up, they could also have a resting bitch face. the 2nd degree in pluto shows that they would need to make significant changes a lot in their life because they could go through a lot of losses, financially, socially and even family.

♱ 2° in north node - could battle with their femininity, and can be someone who could have issues with many women in their life. this degree here shows that they could have moments of being selfish. could be someone who has a destiny that is surrounded by finances, should be careful with how they spend money, and need to make changes with how finances should be handled. could be someone who chases beauty.

♱ 2° in black moon lilith - very intense, mysterious and dark beauty, can make other people captivated, could remind other people of a siren. this degree in this lilith asteroid could also show that this person with this degree here could be influential to women who have gone through dark pivotal moments in their life, can be untrusting of others, someone who is either pandering to men or very strong about women's rights. protective over their sexuality and even their past, might've been looked down upon because of how confident they are.

THE 2° IN THE HOUSES

♇ 2° in the first house - could be known to be very beautiful, people might want to offend and demean them all the time. they're people who are protective over their goals and can be very empathetic towards other people, but other people could think of them to be very self-centered. they can be someone with much supreme power wherever they go, people might easily like to go to them to form a connection with them. they could be someone who want to make changes in their lives a lot as well.

♇ 2° in the second house - said person can be very protective over their finances, could have a very tight-fist when it comes to their possessions, could be influential within their family, and if they're not balanced with it, they'll need to make significant changes with how they spend money. this degree in the second house can mean someone could like to collab a lot, join partnerships to gain finances, could give much of their money to charity.

♇ 2° in the third house - could have much influence amongst their peers, community and family. their relatives could be very protective over them, or they could be very protective over their siblings. could need to be more aware with how they say things to other people. could have really nice handwriting, and can speak with much grace, how they speak impacts other people, could like to work with other people, but can get easily distracted. could have very beautiful relatives.

♇ 2° in the fourth house - could come from a very beautiful home, their mother could be very intuitive, or could have a lot of gut feelings, is someone who is easily hurt, family might've had to protect their feelings all the time. had to be the mediator of their family and could have a lot of power in their family in the future, could be into interior design or even baking. could earn money by doing something in their home, likely had to learn to be empathetic because there might've been much conflict within their family.

♇ 2° in the fifth house - might've been through a lot of relationships when they were younger. can influence a lot of people to be creative, could be indecisive about children or their romantic partners. could become popular because of their beauty, could work in a creative group, and other people could consider them to be very protective over themselves and their creation, could have a very feminine/specific aesthetic.

♇ 2° in the sixth house - could work in a life of work that is very feminine. could be considered a beauty guru, many people could want their advice on fashion, beauty and romance. could have a lot of women envy them, or people envy the connections they get into. could be thought as someone who is very friendly, other people could be annoyed at how anxious they could get, sometimes they could be the epitome of not believing themselves, so trusting themselves is a significant change they have to make.

♇ 2° in the seventh house - very persistent in relationships, could be the first to apologise after an argument. can be very popular, hates it when they have competition, usually is in a romantic dilemma, never know when to choose the person good for them. sometimes is an indicatior of being the other woman. very light-make up beauty or heavy, could waste money on cosmetics, but people could look up to for aesthetics.

♇ 2° in the eighth house - very much supreme feminine, could be into pay-pigs or have a sugar mama/daddy. usually likes to work alone, needs to learn when its okay to let other people to take the wheel, the epitome of "angel in the streets and devil in the sheets". usually has a romantic relationship that changes them forever, sometimes uses their sexuality for power. very possessive and protective people, especially over finances. this degree in this house shows that they can be very psychic.

♇ 2° in the ninth house - very beautiful people, usually people compare them to other people. need to make significant changes with how they process the world and how the world impacts other people and just not them. very intuitive people, the type to make fun of other people but cant handle it when someone makes fun of them, could be unsure about what faith/practice they should believe in. could have much influence and power over people who are in a vulnerable state as well, but person with said degree can sometimes be taken advantage of.

♇ 2° in the tenth house - many people look up to this person, they could tick off many people's boxes of what they think a divine or supreme person is supposed to be. the type of people that if they ask people to jump other people would question how high. could be people who can read other people really well, usually have much power within their work field in the future, could be known for being for the people and very beautiful. might not be sure about what job they want, other people might feel like they have to control this person or tell them what to do. father figure/father's side of the family could be strong about manners and etiquette.

♇ 2° in the eleventh house - people might use this person for networking. very popular people, Queen Bee type of popularity, could be known for being a humanitarian and having very different and other-worldly beauty. could be someone who changes friendship groups a lot or needs to be aware about the type of people they allow into their friendship group. could be influential online, could have a lot of followers/big platform. other people want to be friends with them and work with them. protective and very empathetic for their friends.

♇ 2° in the twelfth house - very psychic people, should listen to their heart/gut instincts all the time. could dream about future connections, could be considered as a dream girl/person all the time and can be someone who is protective over their practices and could be an empath, they easily become sympathetic of what other people express especially sad situation, the type to walk in people's shoes and can be easily hurt, sometimes does not know when to take accountability.

degree theory masterlist

masterlist

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