#literally a three word message lol

[norrizzandpia]

this might have to be more than one part, but can you please write a wrong number lando fic? like lando texts the wrong number somehow and they end up becoming good friends, they start falling for each other but lando lies about his identity the whole time until they meet or he tells the reader. and she’s pissed and she doesn’t know anything about f1 anyways so she doesn’t understand why he lied. with angst and stuff? idk if this is too specific or too much to ask!

Wrong Number, Right Person (LN4)

Summary: A wrong number leads Lando right to Y/n, but even the beautiful love they find together struggles to stand a chance against Lando’s lie of identity.

Warnings: none, BUT A HAPPY ENDING!!! Y/n’s bsf threatens to kill lando lol

Note: she is LONG! The word count is almost 9k oml but i have to say that @piastrification was a major help in making this because she read it for me and made it read less stupid! She also gave me some ideas so credit to her for that xx

If there was any moment where Y/n was beyond confused with absolutely no inkling of an answer, it was now. She stared down at her phone, clutching the device as she read over the message sitting on her Lock Screen over and over.

“What’s wrong?” Her best friend, Annie, asked. Her eyebrows were scrunched together in a way she had always done since they were kids, Y/n loved the way that had never changed. The two women had experienced so much growth over the years, but it was heartwarming to see some things hadn’t.

Her eyes flickered to Annie before turning her phone around, “Why does this person think I’m supposed to be meeting them in half an hour?”

Annie laughed out loud, taking the phone from the other girl’s hands and typing out a reply, “Seems like this poor person has the wrong number.”

When Y/n’s phone is returned to her grasp, she giggles at what Annie had done.

Unknown Number

Hey! Just letting you know I’ll be there in thirty minutes. Hope you aren’t running late like last time…

Y/n

Uh, I’m actually running really behind schedule. I won’t be able to get there until around three hours from now. Sorry.

The two girls continued their lunch, feeling a bit bad about messing with a stranger’s plans but laughing nonetheless. It wasn't until Y/n’s phone started blowing up that the color began to drain from their faces.

Unknown Number

WHAT? THREE HOURS????? WHAT?

Unknown Number

YOU’RE MESSING WITH ME RN

Unknown Number

If you don’t answer me in .5 seconds, I WILL show up to your house and wreck your shit

Unknown Number

LIKE WHAT? THREE HOURS? WE’VE HAD THESE PLANS FOR WEEKS MATE

Unknown Number

Literally answer me rn or I’m telling Oscar to help me plan your murder

Y/n’s hand clasped over her mouth as she frantically began to type out a reply, guilt settling over the amusement.

Y/n

You most definitely have the wrong number. Sorry, me and my friend thought it would be funny to tell you that your plans were basically ruined. Our bad. But, I have no idea who Oscar is and I pray for the person you are meaning to text rn. Plz don’t wreck their shit!

His response was immediate.

Unknown Number

Oh… sorry for my small outburst then. But, how am I meant to know this isn’t actually the person I’m trying to get a hold of?

Y/n laughed before Annie suggested taking a picture and sending it to the mysterious number. Probably stupid considering they had no idea who was on the other side of the phone, but an image was sent regardless.

Y/n

*Image Attached*

Y/n

I am most definitely not whoever you are trying to get a hold of.

The number doesn’t respond for a few minutes, busy for all they know or getting bored of texting a supposed stranger. However, her phone dings on the table and the two girls peek to see the response.

Unknown Number

Woah, you are for sure not who I am meant to be texting right now.

Unknown Number

You are very pretty tho

Y/n giggled,

Y/n

Thank you, but not thank you if you are an old man or serial killer. I don’t take compliments from psychos.

Unknown Number

Haha no I am not an old man or serial killer. I’m a child in a 24 year old man’s body.

Y/n

How do I know this for sure?

Unknown Number

Trust me?

Y/n

Okay, ig. What’s your name?

The food comes to the table and Annie begins to dig in, watching her best friend closely before the girl puts her phone down.

“He stopped responding. I asked for his name. Probably got scared or something.” She murmurs before cutting into her chicken. Annie nods her head side to side before they take up another topic of conversation, seemingly moving on from the previous random male who had interrupted their lunch.

However, there’s another vibration on the table ten minutes later. Y/n picks up her phone.

Unknown Number

Robert :) But, people call me Bob. What’s yours?

Y/n

I am going against everything my parents ever taught me by telling a stranger my name and what I look like… but I’m Y/n :)

Y/n

Btw bob sounds like a fake name that’s so funny

🏎️

The next day, Y/n wakes up to yet another message from Bob- who had begun to take up the majority of her text notifications’ real estate. She didn’t mind in the slightest, though. They got on like a house on fire, banter, jokes and conversation free-flowing at any given time.

Bob!

Good morning :)

Bob!

Wait, is it morning for you? Where do you even live?

Y/n

Okay, stalker. It’s literally 9 am, why am I already having to deal with a man trying to get my address.

Bob!

GIRL WHAT? That isn’t what i meant and you know it, Y/n

Y/n

Yes, i know what you meant, bob. I’m just joking lol

Y/n

I live in London! What about you?

Bob!

Monaco

Y/n

Shit, girl. You’re rich asf?

Bob!

NO nah nah nah. Y/n, I literally work as a server here. I enjoy the glamor tho

Y/n

Oh… so no diamond necklaces :( You could’ve been my sugar daddy, bob.

Bob!

😭

Y/n

No i joke I JOKE i can buy my own damn diamond necklaces

Bob!

Of course you can, Y/n. I’m not surprised.

Her heart warms at his portrayed support, and even though her bank account is in the negative, she likes to think Bob believes in her just as Annie does. Maybe he actually did.

She shakes her head at her thoughts. I’ve known him for a day, she thinks. He shouldn’t already mean this much to her. She doesn’t even know him.

Y/n

Ty, bob :) I have to go though. I have so much to get done today.

Bob!

Ok! text me when you’re free?

Y/n

yesss

—

There is a small void in Y/n’s body as she unlocks the front door of her apartment. A day of being broken down has taken its toll on her. Usually, it doesn’t get to her, the stress and pressure of it all, but today, as she flops down onto her ratty couch, part of her wants to give up.

Her phone buzzes underneath her leg.

Bob!

Are you free yet?? It’s been all day, y/n!!!

Y/n

sry, i just got home.

Bob!

Just now? Didn’t you leave at like 9:30 this morn??

Y/n

yeah

Bob!

Y/n, its 10:45 at night for you

Y/n

that would be correct… how did you know that?? Tracking my time zone, Robert?

Bob!

you might be scared to hear I have London saved on my world clock so I can see it at all times

Y/n

thats love fr

Y/n

but yeah its been a long day

Bob!

oh, well, im sorry :( how are you? Tired?

Y/n

Yeah, definitely. Just a hard day in general.

Bob!

Talk to me about it then <3

Her face blushes before the color is being forced back beneath her face. She doesn’t know this man enough to tell him all her sorrows. He’s just being nice.

Y/n

it’s ok. Thank you tho bob

Bob!

Who else are you planning to talk to abt it then?

Y/n

no one?

Bob!

you need to talk about it y/n to let it go. Talk to me.

Y/n

We barely know each other.

Bob!

Do i look like i care?

She laughs and types,

Y/n

Bob, I don’t even know what you look like

Bob!

We’ll fix that someday :) Now talk to me about everything

Y/n takes a breath before her fingers begin flying across the keyboard.

Y/n

People are just mean. I try so hard everyday to give my all and my best effort, to not let people down, but I seem to still do it. I can’t quite get things right and my boss is suffocating me with the way he looms over me like I can't hold my own. It makes me think I can't. There’s no room for mistakes or excuses, you have to be perfect in the office i work and i will never be that. There’s this other girl who holds my same position yet she does it so much better. I will never hold a candle to her and I know that. She’s everything I want to be because she accomplishes everything I can't. My boss knows it, everyone knows it, and it makes me feel like an outsider. I can’t share certain memories with these people or fit in quite right because I haven't been able to achieve the same success as they have. I know I’m just starting out and I have the rest of my life to surpass them, but what if I can't? What if I am never able to gain a good understanding and I am constantly behind?

There are tears pooling in her eyes as she relives the moments of her day when certain tasks were given to this girl she envies, Sam, while her boss gave her a look that had her close to quitting on the spot. Sam gets to revel in the future while Y/n stays in terror of it. A career path she has wanted all her life taunting her.

Bob!

I can relate to that. I can understand the feeling of seeing everyone around you get something you want so dearly while you share the same tools they do and yet you still come up empty. But I’ve also learned that good things come with time and we can’t always be yearning for something that isn’t meant to happen right now. What’s meant to happen will happen for you, I’m sure of it, Y/n. I know it’s hard to not be jealous or feel inadequate, but you just have to make peace with the fact that you try your best and that’s enough. You’re a good person, Y/n. All the good will come to you.

There’s something in his words that makes her feel heard and for once, Y/n finds peace in another’s reassurance. She doesn’t want to think about what that means toward who Bob is to her.

Y/n

Thank you. That means a lot.

Bob!

Of course. I wish I would’ve had someone telling me that when I was experiencing it.

Y/n

When were you experiencing it?

Bob!

A few years ago. But, that doesn’t matter.

Y/n

You’re always vague, bob. Give me something please? I’ve told you so much.

Bob!

There’s not much to tell, Y/n.

Y/n

You’re a server. Is that something you want to do for the rest of your life?

Bob!

I don’t know. I’m still figuring it out.

Y/n

VAGUE

Bob!

Ok, okkk!! I don’t want to be a server for the rest of my life. I think I’d like to work in Formula One. I’ve always loved racing and cars, the thrill of speed and all that. Trying to be Max Verstappen fs

Her eyes twinkle,

Y/n

Haha yeah right brotha

Y/n

That’s great tho! I think you’d be great in Formula One, Bob. I’ve heard of it but not a huge fan. It seems boring.

Bob!

Damn, shitting on my favorite thing… but thank you, Y/n. I think I’d be great too.

Y/n

You know i didn’t mean it that way!! What about your family?

Bob!

If you’re gonna ask me all these questions, should we just call?? Might be easier haha

She stares at his text for a moment, only a few seconds, before his contact name is large on her screen as his call awaits her answer. She clicks the green button and puts the phone to her ear, suddenly nervous to hear his voice for the first time.

“Y/n?” His deep, husky tone fills her ears and the truth of his identity begins to genuinely reign true. His voice is none of some old, slimy man. She could see it fitting someone younger, handsome even. Part of her even wants to say he sounds familiar.

She breathes, “Bob?”

There’s a silence that passes between them, a line crossed in the random relationship they’d surprisingly developed. Rustling sounds from Bob’s end, sheets moving before Y/n adds to the commotion, her heels falling to the floor once she pushes them off.

“Are you going to ask me about my family?” He asks, a hint of laughter in his voice.

Y/n giggles, “Tell me about your family, Bob.”

He lets out a small noise of confirmation, “Well, I have two sisters and a brother. A mom and dad. Still married. I don’t know, what do you want to know?”

The two laugh together at his sudden loss of words before Y/n speaks, “Uh, tell me about your parents. Any crazy love stories in the family?”

“No, they got together relatively normal. They’ve been together since they were younger and they’re still in love to this day. They set up a great example for me.”

Y/n rises from her couch, putting Bob on speaker, and moving into her bedroom to get ready for the end of the night. His voice echoes off the walls of the glistening white walls of her bathroom as she asks him more questions about his siblings and relatives. The way he speaks so highly of them makes the pull to him she feels stronger. Something about him seems too good to be true, but she wouldn’t say that out loud. She believes too much in the power of a jinx.

Bob somehow changes the conversation to her, asking her further about her job and her worries. It’s scary how easy it feels to open up to him, things she had a hard time even telling Annie. Maybe it’s the anonymity of him, the elusiveness of the man she truly doesn’t know. However, none of that matters wholly as she lays in bed, eyes trained on the fan above going in circles as she talks about insecurities she’s had since she was a kid.

“It’s hard to know what traits you truly hold, you know? I can be the sweetest to one person, but horribly mean to another. I don’t want people to think I’m armed with ill intent. Sometimes things just don’t come out the way I want.” She whispers, arms sitting heavy over her stomach.

Bob sighs, “It’s scary how much we share in common. I’ve felt that way too many times before. You can never be too careful with your words and it just hits so hard when people don’t understand who you truly are at your core. If they did, they wouldn’t think I was saying something with malice.”

She smiles to herself. It’s as if he lives in her head. “I don’t think you’d mean anything malicious, Bob.”

He chuckles, “I don’t think you’d mean anything malicious either, Y/n.”

The quietness of her name on his lips brings her closer to sleep and it’s the way he begins to ramble about how much he loves to talk to her that sends her over the edge, a warmness accompanying her body to sleep.

Bob keeps talking for a few minutes before her silence is deafening and he realizes what’s happened. Still, he talks, traumas and all, because something about knowing she’s there makes him not want to hang up.

🏎️

“So, you’ve been talking to this guy for how long?” Annie questions, her eyebrows pulled together just as they always have while she stares bewilderedly at Y/n.

“Three weeks,” She replies, a message from Bob appearing on her screen just as they utter his name.

Annie stares at her, “And you don’t know what he looks like?”

Y/n shakes her head lightly, “No…”

Annie scoffs, “Y/n! That’s so stupid! He could be stalking you for all we know!”

“No! He’s not stalking me, Annie. I think I know him now, really. In the beginning, no, but we call all the time and we talk about anything and everything. He’s sweet and he’s everything I’ve ever been looking for in a guy.” Y/n is quick to defend, her phone in her hands as Bob calls her.

Annie glances down to the ringing phone, “Is that him?”

Her challenging look makes Y/n nod slowly. Annie lurches forward and Y/n yelps just as her best friend yanks the phone out of her hands and answers the call.

“ANNIE!” Y/n yells, grasping for the phone while Annie just moves away.

Bob’s voice meets Annie’s ears, “Y/n?”

“This is Annie, Y/n’s best friend. I’d like to know your address and full name, seeing as my beloved friend has not gotten that information yet.” She demands, eyes glancing toward Y/n as she awaits the man’s answer.

Bob stutters, “Uh, my name is Robert Dancing. I live in Monaco.”

Annie shakes her head, “No, I’m talking address. Like, 12345 Hemingway Street.”

Bob laughs, “Can I just talk to Y/n?” There’s a hint of anxiousness in his voice that sends Annie into a manic spiral.

“No, tell me where you live.” She fires back.

“Annie!” Y/n tries again, grabbing onto Annie’s sweatshirt to pull her closer. When she’s within reach, Y/n reaches for the phone and snatches it back, much to Annie’s dismay.

Y/n apologizes, “Bob, I’m so sorry. Annie’s a little insane.”

He laughs and it lingers around her heart, “It’s okay. Just call me later, yeah?”

She nods and murmurs confirmation before hanging up. She turns to look at her best friend, a rare moment of betrayal. “Why would you do that?” She asks, annoyance radiating off of her.

Annie crosses her arms, “Because, Y/n! You don’t know this man.”

Y/n groans, “Yes, I do! Also, getting to know him by demanding his address seems satisfactory to you?”

“You’re being stupid, Y/n! I’m just looking out for you!” She raises her voice, anger getting in the way of truly getting her point across.

Y/n shakes her head, “Looking out for me would be trusting me when I ask that of you! You just completely went against everything I asked of you! I asked for support, not outraged behavior!”

Annie’s face drops, “You don’t get it! Y/n, you do not know this man! You didn’t even know his last name until I asked for you yet you’ve apparently told him all of your secrets?!”

Y/n begins to pack her purse in a moment of fury, “No, Annie, you don’t get it!”

As she stands at the cusp of the front door, Annie yells back at her, “Stop falling in love with someone you can’t trust!”

Y/n closes the door shut, a huff coming from her lips as she storms down the stairs, tears down her face. To have her best friend question her judgment regarding someone who means so much to her hurts immensely. Though, what hurts worse is knowing she might be right.

—

Max almost looks perplexed when Lando hangs up the phone.

“Robert Dancing? What the hell kind of name is that?” He teases, a patronizing tone.

Lando shakes his head, “I didn’t know what else to say! Dancing was the first thing that came to my head!”

Max crosses his arms over his chest, “Are you ever planning on telling this woman who you really are?”

Lando’s mouth opens and falls closed, at a loss for words, “I don’t know. I want to, but I know she’ll run. I don’t blame her. I’ve lied about fundamental things.” There’s a crease in his forehead as he continues, “I can’t lose her. I’m too addicted to the way she makes me feel.”

Max sighs, “I hate to say it, but you might, Lan. You told her you were a completely different person, betrayed her trust in an insane way. You’ve got something special, that counts for something, but you need to be prepared for the possibility of her never being able to find it in herself to forgive you. I don’t want you to get your hopes up and get hurt.”

“I won’t. I know the risks of what I’ve done, but I can’t take it back now. I just need to find the time to tell her. I will tell her and I’ll do it in a coherent, calm way.” He tries, but the two of them know he’s already gotten his hopes up. Max looks at him with faux confidence, knowing Lando’s found himself with someone it’ll cut deep to let go of.

Lando knows it too, knows the kind of pain that’ll shred through him if she leaves because of his mistake. It’s ironic in the way that a lie, one so unnecessary, is the thing that plagues his mind at night even as Y/n’s voice puts him to sleep.

🏎️

There’s a nagging in Y/n’s brain that pushes her to get out from under the covers of her bed and find her desk in the dark of the night. She sits in the chair with a creak before opening her laptop and the random browser she’s had tabs open in for days on end.

Her fingers however over the keys before typing in a dreaded question of truth.

“Robert Dancing.” She whispers as she presses enter and the screen begins to load. Her stomach churns and her eyes whip away, too scared to look. What would she do if nothing came up? What if Annie was right? What if Bob wasn’t who she thought he was after all?

But, then, his voice calls her back to the safety of her blind trust as it rings throughout her brain. He seems too nice to be what Annie had thought him to be. Bob is who she thinks he is, he has to be.

Her gaze takes one more look at the picture of her and Annie on her nightstand before she turns her head fully to find out her fate.

A blank screen with the haunting words, “Sorry, we couldn’t find what you were looking for.” stares back at her. For a moment, she thinks she must’ve spelled his name wrong and she tries multiple, very clearly wrong, versions of what his name could be in an attempt to console the last of hope dwindling out of her body.

Bob. A name in her mouth that now means nothing takes on what she had originally thought it had been. A fake name.

This can’t be, she thinks. There has to be some logical explanation. But, then again, Robert Dancing is not a typical name, something should come up for a server who lives in Monaco. A link to his social media would’ve shown. He’s young and living in Europe, there would be a trace of him.

Robert Dancing does not exist.

🏎️

Unknown

Y/n, you never called me back. Is everything okay?

Y/n

Everything is fine.

Unknown

Can I call you now?

Y/n

I’m busy.

Unknown

It’s been three days and I haven’t heard from you at all. Seriously, are you okay?

Unknown

Y/n, answer me. What’s going on?

Y/n

Stop messaging me.

Her body jolts in surprise when her phone rings aggressively against the desk at her work. She looks around sheepishly at her staring coworkers before grabbing the loud device and walking outside. The moment the door shuts behind her, she answers.

Bob speaks so quickly, “Y/n, what’s going on?”

She stares at the skyline, trying to find peace in the view, “What’s your name?”

Bob is quiet, “Robert Dancing. You know this.”

“No, I don’t. What’s your name?” She tries again, anger in her voice and sadness deep in her soul.

“Bob.” He states, breaking her heart once more.

Y/n scoffs, “I know that’s not your name. If you don’t start telling me the truth right now, I will hang up and block you.”

A door closes on his side and she hears him take a breath, “Okay, okay. Don’t do that. How’d you find out?”

A dry laugh leaves her mouth, mixed with astonishment, “Do you think I’m stupid?! You gave me what was supposed to be your full name, so I searched you up. Choose a name that actually comes up next time, yeah?”

“Y/n, I’m so sorry. You told me you would never think I meant malice by my actions. That should apply here.” He tries, but she just shakes her head.

“That was back when I thought I knew at least your name. Who ever are you? Do you even live in Monaco? Was any of it true?” She cries, somewhat surprised at the tears that have appeared.

He sounds disappointed, “Yes, it all was. I do live in Monaco and I have three other siblings. My parents are still married. All the things I told you were true, my doubts and insecurities. That wasn’t fake, Y/n.”

She pulls herself together, not ready to break down for a man so cruel, and wipes her tears, “What’s your name?”

“Y/n, I-”

She interrupts, determined, “What’s your name?”

A build up manifests from the silence he lets go on before he answers her dying question, “Lando Norris.”

Part of her was expecting him to say a name she would’ve recognized, but no part of her has any reaction to him. His name is just another one she wished to have been able to connect to another human being.

He takes her silence for realization and his body slumps against the wall behind him. Part of him knows she won’t, but another part worries she’ll take their situation and everything he’s told her to the press.

What she says next completely contradicts everything he built up in his head, “You act like that’s supposed to mean anything to me.”

With that, she hangs up the phone.

—

Annie and Y/n haven’t spoken since their fight a week ago, but the betrayal of it is pushed aside when Annie opens the door to find Y/n crying at her door.

No words are shared, Annie understands, and Y/n is ushered into the home, coaxed by her best friend to sit on the couch.

“What happened?” She whispers, her hand rubbing over Y/n’s back. Annie hates to see her best friend in such brokenness, even in a moment where she could tell her I told you so. That would do no one good, Annie knows that. Y/n doesn’t need to be proven wrong right now, she needs someone to sit with her when no one else seemingly won’t.

A sharp intake of breath and Y/n speaks, “He wasn’t who he said he was. Robert Dancing doesn’t exist. His actual name is Lando Norris. As if that means anything. Why would he lie?”

Annie cocks her head because it doesn’t make sense. Why would he lie? Lying about your life to make it seem more interesting than it was would make sense, but to blatantly lie completely about your identity? That didn’t make sense.

“Have you searched him up? Maybe it’s supposed to mean something?” She tries, genuinely lost at the situation.

Y/n shakes her head, tears falling to her lap as she hangs her head, “If I do and I see him, I don’t want to know. I already like him too much and that makes this hurt more than it should. If I see him, learn who he truly is, I’m scared I’ll never be able to let him go.”

Annie frowns, part of her wants to know about the man that put her friend in such a state. But, it’s not what Y/n needs as she cries on the beige couch. Her head fits in the crook of Annie’s shoulder as the girl turns on mindless TV for her friend.

Still, though, Annie knew she would find herself investigating Lando Norris later when Y/n fell asleep.

—

It’s ironic how similar Y/n and Annie look when they scour the internet for information about a specific man. Annie has a bit of blanket pulled over her lap as Y/n hogs the majority of it, the rise and fall of her chest a telltale sign of needed slumber.

The face of Lando Norris stares back at her as she tries to think of this man calling her best friend at night, asking questions no one has before. He seemed bubbly in the few moments she spoke to him and when she clicks on a video of him in an interview, she knows immediately it's him. His voice is distinct as it speaks through a clear microphone. There were no lies in his second confession to Y/n.

From what she can tell, he’s a beloved member of the Formula One community, a sport she had never truly looked into because she assumed it was overrated. So, did Y/n. The off chance that Lando texted a random person and found something more with them, he lucked out that that someone was clueless when it came to the sport that made him famous.

Her breathing stops when she finds a video that titles Lando’s supposed telling of a woman he’s taken a liking to. The date of the video tells her it’s within the time frame of him and Y/n.

She glances at her sleeping best friend before clicking the link, his smiling face large on her screen.

Lando’s giggle is sweet, “Yeah, I guess you could say I’ve found someone. Or, at least, have a crush. This girl and I are definitely not official, but there’s something there, I think we can both feel it. I’ve never felt so free with someone.”

The reporter, out of view from the watcher, coos, “That’s great, Lando! What’s her name?”

Lando gives the man a warning glance as he states authoritatively, “I won’t be handing that information right now.”

He clutches the microphone and Annie can see the way his body shifts with protectiveness. If anything, this is exactly the kind of way she had always wanted Y/n to be treated. Protected and cherished. From what she could gather, from the deepdive of articles and the stories Y/n had told, Lando did just that.

Her heart aches. A stupid man tried to protect himself whilst falling in love with a woman that never even knew who he was. They were never even given a chance.

Somehow, in a black out of pure sadness for Y/n who had always yearned to be adored in this way, Annie found herself buying a ticket to the next Grand Prix, Silverstone of all places.

With a crappy seat and no plan or guarantee of finding him, Annie knew she had to find Lando. She had to fight for something that wasn’t even hers.

🏎️

The commotion of fans surrounding the entrance to the paddock puts Annie on edge, not to mention the size of the crowd. She thought she got here early, wanting to be at the front so she could try and talk to him, but as she sees the large amount of people between her and the path where the drivers walk, hope diminishes. Still, she pushes through everyone, apologizing when she gets dirty looks. She knows how bad this looks, how much this most likely goes against common courtesy at races such as these. The face of Y/n with bloodshot eyes and a puffy face forces her to persevere, her best friend deserves someone like Lando.

She’s halfway through the crowd when it roars to life, screams emitting as people begin to stick McLaren hats and posters in the air. From the sliver of light she can see through some bodies, Annie watches Lando begin to walk through. He stops to sign for some fans and she pushes more forcefully, knowing this is her only chance.

He moves through it all with grace, but a certain speed that makes her heart pick up. He’s at the front of the crowd, about to step into the paddock and be lost completely to her when she yells, “Lando! It’s Annie!”

It’s the first thing that she can think of, hoping he’ll be reminded of Y/n’s voice when she tried to cover for her best friend’s moment of protection. Annie watches him pause, turn around slowly, as his eyes roam over the sea of people. He locks eyes with her as she waves her arms in the air, something passes between them and he begins running toward her. A connection to the woman he let down, one he hadn’t stopped thinking of in the weeks she had left him.

When he reaches her, Lando is stunned by her presence. “You’re Annie? Like Y/n’s Annie?” He whispers, the people around her screaming for his signature as she nods her head.

“Y/n’s Annie.” He looks to be fighting tears as he ushers a security guard over. “I need you to escort her into the paddock, to my driver’s room.”

The large man nods and Lando walks off, nodding at Annie gratefully. Once he’s gone from the premises, the guard moves the rope keeping people from bombarding the drivers up and lets her through.

The walk to wherever Lando had ordered is quiet as Annie takes in the money that surrounds her. People with Cartier jewelry and Birkens waltz around with an air to them that allows Annie to suddenly understand Lando. This is what he was afraid of. A greedy woman who would take advantage of the status he had and lie to him to get to his money and the money around him. While she understood, however, she still felt angry at his deceiving. Y/n was never given the benefit of the doubt.

The guard knocks on Lando’s door and it swings open, his sunken face coming into view and in the new light, Annie can see the love that Lando had found in her best friend. The effect of her leaving him is seen all over his body and from what she could gather during her time looking into him, he wasn’t doing as well as he usually had during races.

He motions for her to come in and when she does, the door closed, he begins talking, “Did Y/n send you here? Is she here? Can I talk to her? Does she want to see me? Is she forgiving me? Are you-”

Her heart breaks as she interrupts him and his quick anticipation of a reconciliation is crushed, “None of that is true. I’m here on my own terms. Y/n doesn’t know I’m here. At this point in time, she doesn’t want to see you, but I think that’s the shock of finding out about you.. That will wear off eventually. She’s hurt, Lando, but I also know she hates not talking to you. She hasn’t stopped talking about you. And I can’t stand to know that you two found something she’s always deserved, but let it slip away because of fears and betrayals.”

He sits opposite of her, staring at her and trying to find the answers he wants to hear in her eyes. He never does.

Lando rubs his palms over his eyes, “I never even got her last name. There was no way for me to find her.”

“Y/n Y/l/n.”

He lifts his head slowly, “What?”

At the look in his eyes, Annie smiles, “Y/n Y/l/n. That’s her last name. Actually, her full name, I guess.”

A small grin finds its way to Lando’s face and the way he touches his mouth lightly makes her think he hasn’t smiled in a while. “Y/n Y/l/n,” He whispers, smile widening as it all falls from his lips.

He’s even in love with her name, Annie thinks.

“Can you take me to her? I would like to be given the opportunity to fight for her.” He asks hesitantly, as if Annie hasn’t made it abundantly clear that she is here to help.

She nods, “I will tell you where to meet her, but first, I need you to tell me everything from the beginning, from your perspective.”

Lando’s head hangs and he begins, hands wringing together in his lap, “When I first texted her, I thought she was my friend, Daniel.”

“Daniel Ricciardo?” She asks, clarification needed for this story.

Lando’s eyebrows rise, “You know the sport?”

She shakes her head, “No, both Y/n and I never got into it because we didn’t think it was that exciting - sorry - but, I basically learned everything about your life and Formula One when Y/n told me your name.”

He nods and continues, “Well, yes, I thought she was Daniel Ricciardo, we were supposed to be meeting for lunch that day to just catch up before starting the new season. Well, as it turns out, he had changed his phone number over break because it leaked and never told anyone that he wasn’t needing to contact immediately during that time. I assume Y/n must’ve gotten a new number around the time because she got his.”

Annie thinks back before realizing Y/n had shattered her phone in the weeks before and ended up getting an entire new cell phone profile. New number, email, everything. She had said she liked the clean slate.

At her nodding, Lando talks once more, “When she sent me the picture of her, I immediately thought she was one of the most beautiful people I had ever seen in my entire life. That’s cliche, but it’s true. She’s still so beautiful to me. Um,” He shakes his head, tears having pooled in his eyes at the mention of her beauty, “I knew I wanted to keep talking to her, see where it went because I couldn’t just stop talking to her and never knew what could’ve been. So, I made a quick, impulsive decision. I lied about who I was because I just wanted her to treat me normally. I had no idea who she was or her morals, I couldn’t guarantee that she would treat me like everyone else. Obviously, when I learned of who she was and the deep parts of her that no one else got to see, I wanted to change it all. I wanted to tell her so many times who I was and what I wanted with her, what I saw with her, but I knew if I did, I would just lose her. So, I tried to find ways to keep talking to her, but also slowly introduce the truth. Clearly, I never found a way. When you called me, demanding my address and full name I panicked and didn’t think about what would happen if I said what was supposed to be my full name. You’re very scary, you know.” He chuckles, Annie does with him, “So, it all fell from there. She found out Robert Dancing was something entirely fabricated and she called me, telling me to tell her the truth. I was backed into a corner and everything I wanted, I needed, left me. That moment is ingrained in my brain.”

He breathes slowly, his eyes still on his hands, before whispering, “I miss her.”

Annie nods, “I know. So does she. That’s why you need to go to this address,” She hands him a small paper, “Meet her there on Monday at 7 PM, come prepared to tell her all of that and more.”

He clutches the paper like it’s his last lifeline and Annie smiles at how important Y/n is to him.

Lando glances up at her, “What do you mean by more?”

Annie continues to smile lightly, “That you love her. That you need her. That you’re sorry. Lando, remind her of what you two had.”

🏎️

The small apartment complex is daunting to Lando as he stands in front of it. Annie never told him where he was going or what he would be met with, but considering he’s here to see Y/n, he can only assume the building he stares at is her home. His anxiety only spikes. He does not want to mess up again. He doesn’t want to taint her home with even more pain, he thinks to himself, images of himself groveling and begging for her forgiveness flashing in his mind’s eye.

Nonetheless, he knows if he backs out, Annie would find his address this time and physically harm him.

So, the boy walks to the gate and rings her neighbor, following Annie’s instructions closely. He remembered how she told him if he rang Y/n, she wouldn’t let him in, being stubborn and all. Though, if he rang the neighbor, an older woman Annie called Lo, he had a chance.

“Hello? I’m here to see Y/n.” He said into the rusty speaker, a questionable smell infiltrating his nose.

A crackling sound emits from it before Lo is speaking back to him, “Are you Robert Dancing? Annie told me you would be coming.”

Lando laughs at the name, his random ideas being the reason for it, and murmurs a yes to her. She doesn’t say anything back, just a loud buzzing noise that tells him the door is unlocked.

When he walks through, part of him groans at the lack of an elevator. For an athlete, the man is lazy.

Thus, he begins his scale to the top floor, cursing himself for falling in love with someone who lives so high up.

He’s almost completely lost to his thoughts that he doesn’t realize Y/n’s door stands in his way once his feet hit the doormat. It dawns on him the time has come to meet her in person, having never before. It should be studied, he thinks, how he’s fallen in love with her without ever truly seeing her.

He knocks on the door, not wasting time before he truly aborts whatever mission he’s found himself on. And his heart soars when he hears her yell, “Coming!”

He’s only ever heard it over the phone. To hear it feet away from him is almost as exciting as the idea of her forgiving him.

The door unlocks and pulls open, revealing Y/n in a matching set of pajamas that he remembers her texting him about, asking if they were a stupid purchase or not. He told her to get them, she told him probably not, that she was poor, but she still had.

Her eyes land on him and he’s ready for whatever screaming he’s about to endure, but she just smiles at him.

“Hi! Can I help you with anything?” She acts as if she doesn’t recognize him and Lando realizes she doesn’t. Annie had mentioned something about Y/n becoming disinterested in seeing who he truly was, out of fear of becoming too attached. His mind must’ve not genuinely absorbed that information because he only understands it now.

She doesn’t know who he is.

He could do the same thing he had before, lie and tell her he’s someone else. Take the safer option and secure her love, but he takes a breath instead and remembers all Annie had told him. He’d already put her through so much, to do it again would be cruel.

“Y/n, I’m Lando.” He says while he watches her face fall.

Her hands fly to the door, about to slam it on his face, but he sticks his foot in right before she can. The impact hurts, but he continues with what he had practiced so many times on the way here.

“Please, Y/n, just hear me out.” He pleads as her cheeks fill with red. He’s almost sure it isn’t a blush.

“How’d you even get my address?” She says, astonished at who stands before her. Her eyes fall over his body, trying to understand the information. Who he is, what he wants.

“Annie.” He whispers, knowing her confusion will only heighten more.

Her mouth falls open and she yells, “ANNIE?!”

What he believes to be Lo, pops out from her behind her door at the yelling and Lando lowers his head.

“Can I come in? We shouldn’t have this conversation in the hallway of your complex.” He rubs a hand over the back of his neck, hoping she’ll agree. When she does, opening the door for him slowly, he flies forward. While he was ecstatic to be given another chance, he still fears for his image and what would be speculated about a seemingly heated conversation between him and another woman.

She guides him to the couch and they sit down. A familiar creak sounds that reminds him of the ones he would hear when they got into deep conversation during their nighttime calls. The image of her on the phone with him, concentration on her face as she listened to whatever he was revealing and getting comfortable on her sofa, makes him smile softly.

“Bo- I mean, Lando, you need to start talking. I don’t have all the time in the world to listen.” She gives, her tone ice cold. However, the break in it when she realizes she’s said his former, fake name makes the anger he felt over his lies further. He wants her to say his name, the real one. He wants her to say it with love and excitement, not distance. He wants her and his name on her lips.

“I never meant to hurt you. Actually, what I did was in an attempt to shield myself from any kind of bad faith. I didn’t expect to develop what he did. I didn’t even expect to open up to you in the way I did. I thought I could make a friend, one who didn’t know who I was and didn’t have any kind of bias toward me. I’ve always wanted that with someone, especially a partner. I saw an opportunity and I took it, not thinking through it all and I hurt you in the process. I’m so sorry, Y/n. From the moment we started truly talking, calling and all, I knew I had messed up, but I never found a way to tell you. Well, a way to tell you that wouldn’t result in you getting rid of me. I wish I could take it all back, but not you. Not what I got to experience with you, what I felt with you. You’re my favorite memory and you’ll never understand how grateful I am for you. You helped me through bad races even when you didn’t know, helped me through weird press interactions when you didn’t know. I loved that. I loved how at peace you made me feel. I can’t let this go without knowing I gave it everything I have and when Annie showed up at Silverstone, telling me I had to fight for you, I took whatever she had to give.”

Y/n stares at him, trying to digest it all, and murmurs, “Annie went to Silverstone?”

He chuckles lightly, “Yes, she came and she told me who she was, what she was doing there. She told me she knew what we had and she didn’t want you to lose something you’ve always deserved. She gave me this address and told me to come here at this time, told me to buzz Lo instead of you so I could come in. She told me I needed to remind you of what we had.”

Y/n goes red again, blushing this time. She smiles at the idea of Annie going to great lengths just to make her happy, “Annie sounds determined.”

Lando smiles along with her, “She was. She told me if I didn’t fight for you, she’d find me and kill me. She’s really scary, Y/n.”

Their eyes meet and Y/n is reminded of what once was, the way he made her feel. She misses him and knowing the intricate shade of brown in his eyes doesn’t help how much she wants to shut him out.

“I understand why you did what you did, but that doesn’t make it any better. You could’ve given up everything you were saying at any point in time and you didn’t. You only told me when I confronted you with it.” She whispers, disappointment evident in her voice. She plays with her fingers and Lando is close to taking them in his hand.

He nods, “I get that. But, I was scared to tell you because I was just so in love with you. I still am.”

Her eyes snap to his and a moment passes before she asks, “Still am? You love me?”

His cheeks turn cherry tomato, “Yes, of course, I am. The moment I realized you were safe enough to open up to, knowing my identity or not, I was in love with you.”

She groans and lets her face fall to her palms, “But, I’m in love with you too.”

He laughs and shakes his head, “Why is that a bad thing?”

Her eyes peek from over her hands, “Because I want to hate you.”

Finally, his fingers lace with hers as he brings them away from her face, “But, you love me. Isn’t that enough?”

She knows it is. He knows it is. Annie knows it is, even if she isn’t there. It’s a matter of if Y/n can put aside the grand web of lies he put together to let them have their shot at something that could be wonderful. In the warmth of his presence, she thinks she can.

🏎️

Y/n

Can you stop blowing up my phone

Bob <3

Why????? I’m bored baby

Y/n

im at work girly

Bob <3

girly 🤭🫶🏻🤗 plz go out to the balcony and answer me

Y/n

I think you might be obsessed with me

Bob <3

i made an alter ego so i could talk to you didn’t i?

Y/n

girl

She picks up his call as she closes the door behind her, the new office building she’s in allowing for a wider view of London. The new team she works with is less competitive than the last and their support is proving beneficial with the news she got today.

“My beloved girlfriend, are you free for lunch today?” Lando giggles into the speaker like the lovesick man he is. Y/n can hear Oscar make fun of him in the background.

She smiles, “I thought you were bored?”

“Yes, so now I’m asking if you want to have lunch with me” He answers as if it’s obvious. In the months after the soft moment shared between Lando and Y/n on her old couch, they’ve found something more than love between them. Lando says it’s destiny and Y/n says it’s a soulmate tie, but they agree that the love they once shared over the phone only grew once in person.

Y/n chuckles at his antics, “Sure, I will have lunch with you, Lan. Can you come pick me up though? I don’t want to drive.”

Lando makes a noise, “What did you think I was going to do? Make you drive yourself? No way. There’s one person in this relationship that drives cars professionally and it’s not you, sweetheart. Sorry to break it to you.”

Oliver, her coworker, comes to the door, asking for her assistance on something with a smile. She tells him she’ll be a minute and he nods, retreating back into the office quietly, “Sorry, my love. I need to go. But, you’ll be here when?”

Lando hums, “An hour?”

“Perfect! Oh, and, Lando?” She asks, her voice filled with joy as he responds, “You’ll have to come to the Junior VP’s office to pick me up.”

Silence is met with her sentence before Lando whispers, “Either I’m stupid and you have some big project I forgot about or you’re trying to tell me something that will actually make me lose my mind and sanity right now.”

She laughs loudly, “I got Junior VP, Lan. Youngest one yet.”

He shrieks, momentarily making Y/n go deaf, before screaming to everyone around him about his girlfriend’s achievement, “I’m so proud of you, baby! Oh my god! I’m so happy! We need to buy champagne! You can have your own podium moment! Holy shit, I’m so proud!”

“I would love that, Lan. Thank you. I love you.” She whispers the last part softly, three words that mean so much.

He’ll never get tired of hearing her speak of her love for him, “I love you too, Y/n.”

She’d never get tired of saying it.

[ariesangelxo]

mornings - part two

MINORS & AGELESS BLOGS DNI

cw: more angst, still no comfort (i promise it’s coming in the next part), heartbreak, one mention of panic attacks, prescription benzo use, recreational coke use, drinking, arguing, mention of a gun and a gunshot at the end, not proofread lol

an: thank u all SO SO much for all of the love on part one !!! i am blown away and in awe. there also will be a part three for sure <3

part three

the past twenty-six days had not been kind to you. your mornings were spent rotting away in bed until your mom would force you to get up, her expression of concern always made you feel even worse. your days weren’t much better, you forced yourself to detach from your heart and numb your emotions. it was the only way you knew how to keep going. you put on a mask during the day with your parents, giving them occasional smiles and laughs that weren’t the kind that warmed their hearts. they knew you weren’t okay, but they also knew they couldn’t force you to talk about it or you’d shut down completely. your nights consisted of taking a benzodiazepine in order to fall asleep, you couldn’t sleep without them. you tried, it only led to intense panic attacks and hysterical sobs that made your mother’s heart break in front of you.

this morning had been a bit different. you were awakened when you felt a weight in your bed, and in the haze of waking up you initially thought it was rafe. you shot up the moment you remembered everything, eyes widening and heart racing, but you looked over to see sarah in your bed. "oh my god, sarah you scared the hell out of me!" you exclaimed, holding a hand over your chest.

she let out a giggle, "i'm sorry, your mom let me in. i miss you," her tone was gentle. you had become very close with sarah during your relationship with rafe. being over at the cameron's house so often led to a beautiful friendship forming between the two of you. she was like a sister to you, something you cherished deeply as you didn't grow up with a sister.

you felt a pang of guilt in your chest at her words. you knew she missed you, she'd messaged you every single day since your break up without fail, even if you didn't always text back. you had seen her a couple times, but when she asked about what happened, you told her you weren't ready to talk about it. sarah was incredibly understanding, knowing how much you loved her brother and not wanting to push you too far.

"i miss you too, sar. i'm sorry i've been such a shit friend lately." you responded to her. you gave her a small smile, curling up next to her as she sat against your headboard.

"it's okay, i know you're not doing great with everything going on right now," she trailed off with a sad smile, "but, you're going out with me tonight!" she became animated as she spoke.

you didn't have it in your heart to deny her, not when she looked at you like you were the most important person in her world. "you know i can't say no to you. where are we going?" you asked curiously.

"there's going to be a huge party at the boneyard, and you're coming with me. no ifs, ands, or buts." she giggled out, "i need to get you out of your room, you're rotting away in here, babe."

"god, you sound just like my mother," you teased back. "i'll go though, i miss you more than you know. i even miss the pogues a bit." you both laughed, referencing her newer relationship with john b.

you couldn't prevent your curiosity from getting the better of you, "how- how has he been?"

sarah bit her lip, debating internally how much to tell you. "he's been... not great. i don't see him much when i'm home, he's usually in his room with the door shut. he's been a lot more moody too, snapping at literally everyone in the house. it probably didn't help that i told him he's an idiot and he fucked up the best thing to ever happen to him."

you couldn't suppress the laugh that slipped through your lips or the slight satisfaction you felt knowing that you weren't the only one struggling. "i love you sar. thank you." you leaned over, giving her a hug.

"i love you too. now get your ass up and shower. we're getting you a new outfit for the party."

you spent the next few hours strolling through the streets of figure eight with sarah. your arms held multiple shopping bags, filled with clothes she insisted you needed for tonight. you were incredibly grateful that she had forced you out of bed, you actually felt human for the first time since everything happened.

you found yourself in a small cafe, giggling as sarah told you a story from one of her drunken adventures with the pogues.

“you know… you should talk to jj tonight. i know he thinks you’re hot.” sarah gave you a mischievous smile as she wiggled her brows.

“funny,” you rolled your eyes playfully at her, “but it’s way too soon for me to get into anything with anybody right now.”

“i didn’t mean start dating him, i just think you would have fun together.”

“i just- i don’t know, sar. i’ve been such a wreck these past few weeks… can i tell you what happened?” you looked up from your fingers to meet her eyes, now widened with shock.

“yeah, of course you can. but don’t feel like you have to if you don’t want to.”

you were grateful for her support, going into your explanation of how the last couple months of your relationship, rafe’s behavior changed drastically. sarah hung on to your every word, needing to know exactly what led to the end of your relationship.

“and so i walked into the country club to surprise him. i spent the whole morning getting ready, did my makeup how he likes, even wore a new sundress that i know he would have loved. but i walked in and…” you looked up as your vision began to blur, “he was talking with some bitch i’ve never seen before bartending. she had short brunette hair, but he fucking smirked at her the way he only does- did for me. and- and then, she basically fucking held his hand while she fucked him with her eyes, and he let it happen!”

you spit the words out like they were poison on your tongue, not noticing your voice beginning to raise with frustration. sarah’s jaw was nearly on the floor.

“what the- what the fuck?” she racked her brain, trying to remember if she’d seen anyone matching your description recently, but nothing came to her.

“god, shit. i’m so sorry, babe. i don’t know what the fuck is wrong with him.” she attempted to console you as you dabbed your eyes with a napkin.

you shrugged your shoulders, “what’s done is done. i just want to forget about everything for a while.”

she nodded, “then let’s go get ready. we can pregame at yours and ride with john b and them.”

after a few shots, a couple hours spent transforming yourself to not look like you spent the last three weeks trying to cope with your break up, and a lot of laughter, you and sarah were ready to go.

you wore a cropped loosely crocheted white sweater over your pink bikini and a white miniskirt that hugged your hips , the strings from your bottom peaking out from the top of it. you were finally feeling good about yourself again, and you’d be damned if you let anyone ruin it.

the ride to the boneyard only lifted your spirits more. it was impossible not to laugh around the pogues, especially when jj did whatever he could to hear your giggle.

you arrived just as the party was beginning to pick up. relief flooded your veins when you didn’t see rafe anywhere. you knew it was a possibility he’d be here, but it was going to be significantly easier to have a decent night without his presence lingering around.

you filled up a red solo cup at the keg, downing the cheap alcohol before refilling it.

“slow down there, or you might not make it too long.” jj approached you, giving you a flirty smile.

you gave him a laugh in response, “i’ll be fine, jay. i just want to be able to let loose tonight.”

“stick by me then, don’t want any of these pervs creeping on you.” the thinly veiled concern in his voice made you smile. you know he’s flirting, but it’s clear he wants to keep you safe knowing it’s your first night out in so long.

you spent the next hour surrounded by the pogues, and true to his word, jj looked out for you. he did so well that you failed to notice who had shown up to the party, the one and only rafe cameron.

rafe, on the other hand, saw you immediately upon arriving. it was impossible for him not to when your presence demanded his attention. he was not happy to see who you were hanging around with. his ongoing beef with the pogues was well known by everybody on the island. he didn’t come to party though, he had other business to attend to as barry gave him a side eye, “fuck are you doing, country club? you can fight for your girl later, we’ve got shit to do.”

your drink had somehow disappeared. your furrowed your brows as you looked down, giggling to yourself as you told your friends you were going to get another one. you were at the perfect level of drunk, not to the point of blacking out or vomiting, but to where you couldn’t quite walk in a straight line and everything was funny to you.

you stumbled up to the keg, starting to fill up your cup when you felt someone watching you. the hairs on the back of your neck stood up, you instantly knew who it was. it was as though there was a chip in you that alerted you to when he was nearby. you took a deep breath as you turned your head slightly, seeing rafe sat next to a man you didn’t know as he handed a small plastic bag filled with overpriced coke to a touron. rafe’s eyes didn’t leave you as he signaled him to leave.

you could hear your heartbeat in your ears, the hand holding onto your cup now trembling and the lump in your throat building. rafe stood, starting to approach you as you froze. your brain was screaming at you to run but your body refused to move an inch.

“what the fuck do you want, cameron?” your words were spat out with venom. your tone clearly surprised you both as he looked shocked momentarily. you were typically one to stand your ground, but never ever was your attitude aimed towards him.

“what do you mean ���what the fuck do i want’? you fucking up and left out of nowhere and haven’t spoken to me in almost a month.” his voice was filled with anger, his nose flaring as he clenched his jaw.

you let out a humorless laugh, “out of nowhere? you can’t be serious, rafe. you treated me like shit the last few months of our relationship.” you didn’t yet mention seeing his interaction with the bartender at the country club, not knowing if topper and kelce had told him about seeing you when you left that fateful day.

“what? be-because i couldn’t be with you twenty-four fucking seven? like i- i wasn’t out working my ass off to afford nice shit for you?”

“‘working your ass off’ will you stop fucking lying to me? i fucking saw you at the country club,” his facial expression showed confusion, bringing his brows together to try and understand what you were talking about, “you let that bitch touch you, you looked at her how you used to look at me. i spent hours getting ready, i showed up, wanting to surprise my boyfriend for lunch, and what do i see? my boyfriend letting some bartender hang off of him while he flirts with her?”

your voice had raised as you got more and more angry. you were now shouting at him as other partygoers failed to hide their stares and murmuring. nobody ever talked to the kook prince the way you currently were, unless they wanted their face bashed in.

rafe grabbed your arm harshly, pulling you down the beach and away from others. you stumbled behind him, knowing you weren’t physically or mentally strong enough to push him away.

when you looked up at him, you suddenly noticed his blown-out pupils. you felt your heart sink. “you’re using again.” you stated flatly.

he scoffed, rolling his eyes at you. “don’t act like you fucking care.” he spat out at you.

“jesus fucking christ- rafe, when did you start again?”

“don’t worry about it. when did you come to the country club?” his tone was demanding, sparking further irritation in you.

“the day i left. i- i let a lot of shit slide for too long, because… because i wanted to be a good girlfriend and support you when i thought you were just stressed out from work. and, in return, i get to watch my boyfriend make me look like a fucking idiot.”

rafe was silent for a minute, his lips pursed as he clearly was trying to remember what he was doing before he came home to an angry ward and an empty room. then realization hit him, he knew exactly what you were talking about. he brought his palm up to his face, groaning.

when he was about to speak, he was cut off. “is cameron bothering you?” jj’s familiar voice called out. you looked past rafe’s large figure to see all of the pogues standing beside him, looking ready for a fight if it came to it.

rafe gave a humorless chuckle, “stay the fuck out of it, pogue.” he clearly wouldn’t go down without a fight either.

your heart stopped for a moment and your body filled with ice cold terror as jj pulled out a gun that was hidden behind his back in his waistband. it was clear you weren’t the only one not expecting it as the rest of them looked at jj with concern, john b telling him to put it away. “yeah? let’s fucking go, rafe. been itching for a fight for too long.”

everything became blurred. the mixture of shouting, seeing figures suddenly moving towards each other, and the unmistakeable sound of a gunshot, and then everything went black.

[requiemforthepoets]

i want to be with you everywhere 𖦹 OP81

PAIRINGS: oscar piastri x female!reader

SUMMARY: you, big crowded places, and bad sense of directions are always a never good mix.

AUTHOR’S NOTE: another draft i found lol this was inspired by real events lmfao hope you enjoy this blurb! :)

REMINDER: this is purely fiction, the way how the character is portrayed in my story does not reflect to the person that is portraying my character in real life. always separate fiction from reality, and do not repost or copy my work in any way.

WORD COUNT: 830

WARNINGS: typos and inaccuracies

You and Oscar were the quintessential couple in the paddock. Oscar’s calm demeanor perfectly complemented your vibrant nature. However, there’s one thing about you that makes your life more interesting—your notoriously bad sense of direction. You don’t know how or why you’re bad at directions, at this point, it can be a blessing or a curse, depending on the situation. Your bad sense of direction can also be a good laugh for your friends and had also become a running inside joke in your family.

“Oscar, babe, I swear I thought the media center was this way!” You exclaimed, looking at your phone map, which seemed to be leading you in circles around the paddock.

Oscar chuckled, wrapping an arm around your shoulders. “You’re adorable, you know that? But we’ve passed that same coffee stand three times now.” He pointed at the stand, causing you to pout, with cheeks flushing in embarrassment. “I’m sorry, I just…I’m really bad at this.”

“I know, and it’s one of the many things I love about you,” Oscar said, pressing a kiss on your temple. “Which is why I’ve come up with a little solution that can help us.”

Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out a little device. Which you had recognized instantly from the logo that is printed on it—it was an apple airtag, and handing to you with a grin. Grabbing it, you looked up at him, a bit puzzled.

“What’s this for?”

“Every time we go to a race or anywhere unfamiliar, I’m going to clip this onto your bag or slip it into your pocket,” he explained, smiling. “That way, if you get lost, I can always find you easily.” You laughed, eyes twinkling with amusement. A bit touched as well with his little gesture.

“You’re really going to track me like a wayward puppy?”

“Exactly,” Oscar said, his eyes full of affection. “Consider it a modern-day love token.”

The next race was held in Monza, and true to his word, Oscar has managed to discreetly attached the airtag on your bag before you left the hotel. As you both navigated through the bustling crowd, you felt more at ease knowing Oscar had your back, literally.

You began having the itch to venture out, the need for a coffee fix and grab a coffee as well for Oscar. Walking out confidently, you had managed to convince yourself that you perfectly knew the way like the back of hand, but you had spoke to soon. You had found yourself in a maze of unfamiliar trailers and motorhomes, panic was slowly creeping up on you. But you were able to remember the airtag.

Fishing your phone out of your pocket, you quickly open the Find My app, seeing Oscar’s dot not far from you, and sending him a quick message:

osco 🫶🏻 [2:45 PM] : lost again. can you please come find me?

Not a minute later, Oscar appeared around the corner, a wide grin sporting on his face.

“You found a way to use the airtag already, huh?” You sighed in relief, running up to him and wrapping your arms around his waist. “I did. Thank you for this. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

Oscar hugged you back, planting a soft kiss on your forehead. “At this rate, you’d probably end up in the Red Bull garage trying to convince them you’re a McLaren fan.” You giggled, swatting his chest playfully. “Hey! I’m not that bad.” You pouted, causing him to coo at your cuteness and pecking your lips softly.

“Oh, really? Remember last week when you ended up in the Ferrari hospitality trying to ‘borrow’ their wifi?” Oscar laughed and your eyes widened. “In my defense, their coffee was fantastic.”

He shook his head, still laughing. “Well, this time, you got lost trying to get coffee from the McLaren team’s designated stand. You were so far off, you almost ended up in the pit lane.” Your eyes immediately sparkled with mischievousness. “It’s not my fault their coffee stations look like they’re in a maze.”

“Well, here’s a pro tip,” Oscar said, guiding you back towards the seats. “Next time you’re lost, just look for the airtag beacon or, you know, follow the scent of freshly brewed coffee works perfectly too.”

As you both made your way back towards the McLaren motorhome, you playfully pretended to get lost again, dramatically scanning the area and calling out, “Oscar! Where are you?” This silly action had made him laugh and grabbed your hand. “I’m right here, love. Even if you did get lost every time, I’d be happy to find you. Besides, it has become my favorite side quest.”

“And I’ll gladly always let you find me.” You smiled, heart swelling with love.

The airtag had pretty much became a staple in your relationship. No matter where the races took you, you knew that you have your personal navigator, and Oscar knew he had someone worth finding every single time

[23victoria]

“Who is she?!”

f1 grid x fem!hamilton!reader smau, charles leclerc x fem!hamilton!reader smau

faceclaim: tyla (i love her shes so gorgeous!!)

authors note: i honestly love doing smaus! any feedback is appreciated and please like, comment, and reblog!! hope you enjoy!! also thank you for all love! i appreciate it! and yes there are some typos i’m too tired to fix them😭 let me know if you want me to start a taglist!!

edit: this has been sitting in my drafts since may 26…i needed to post it

𝚏𝟷 𝚖𝚊𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚕𝚒𝚜𝚝

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life lately >>>>

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yourbff you so pretty babe 🤭🥰

↳ y/n_ig i love youuu 😘

yoursibling photo credits?!

↳ y/n_ig you ofccc! 🫶🏾✨

username1 who is she and why did the lewis hamilton like her post?!?

stany/n ughhh your skinnn! your glowing girl 🤧✨

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↳ username5 right?!? like who is she?!?

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supriseeee!!! new single “water” out now!! 🤭✨

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yoursibling ahhhhh I’m so excited!! it’s finally out!!

lewishamilton congrats y/n the song is a banger!!! 🫶🏾

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yourbff one my fav songs off the album

↳ livelaughlovey/n album?!? what?!?

↳ y/n_ig @yourbff shhhhhhh!!!

↳ y/n_ig @livelaughlovey/n hehe soon! 🤭

↳ livelaughlovey/n @y/n_ig OMGGGG!!?!

stany/n bout to blast this through my speakers rn!!

charlesleclerc the song is amazing y/n! you’re so talented!!

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↳ lewishamilton @charles_leclerc why are you here?!? 🤨

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holy fuck. i literally have no words. number 1 in three days is insane! i’m speechless honestly, thank you. thank you to everyone who has been here form the beginning and saw something in me. this is for all of us. i love you ❤️

in honor of this huge achievement I’m having a concert this friday in new york, at the barclays center!! tickets are free!! see you there! 😘

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livelaughlovey/n you deserve it!! i’m so proud of how far you’ve come!! 🥹

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zendaya congrats beautiful! it was so nice meeting you last night!

↳ y/n_ig thank you! we have to hang soon!!!

charles_leclerc congratulations gorgeous, you deserve it! ❤️

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lewishamilton congrats cuzzo!! couldn’t be anymore prouder!! can’t wait to see what the future has for you 🫶🏾❤️

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last night, best night of my life✨! you guys came and showed tf out and I’m behind grateful🤧!! the energy was highhh and i had a fucking blast!! thank you for coming and showing love!! I can’t wait to do this again!! love you🥹!!

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charlesleclerc what an amazing show beautiful!! you were amazing!! 🥰

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part 2?!

© 23victoria 2024 I all rights reserved. do not republish, steal repost, modify, translate, or claim my work as your own.

[trblsvt]

for the books | jeon wonwoo

summary | wonwoo's students seemed intent on matching him up with a fellow teacher. he didn't really want to stop them, it was too funny for him to break up their fun. plus, he didn't mind the certain someone he was being "set up" with. genre | fluff, teacher!au warnings | none, i think let me know! word count | 2.2k words pairing | jeon wonwoo x fem!reader min | lowercase intended i literally put off my other works to write this! delulu era to the max! i advocate for women in stem!!! also! this is like an american high school-level setting. lily is so out of pocket LOL (believe it or not there is a girl just like her at my school). this was 100% self-indulgent

"mr. jeon!" his student lily called. "so you're telling me that after all that, she still hasn't kissed him?" he looked up from his desk and looked over to his obviously distraught student. "lily! i didn't even finish it yet!" her friend mina yelled at her.

"i'm sorry! it's just so crazy how they didn't even kiss! even after they made up and he said all of that to her!" lily huffed.

"what did he say to her? i haven't gotten there yet either," daniel piped in.

"just read it! i'm sorry i brought it up in the first place," lily sighed and pulled out the worksheets she was supposed to complete after reading the book. he shook his head and went back to inputting grades into his computer. it was silly to think lily was just going to do her work. "mr. jeon, do you have a girlfriend?" she asked putting her pencil down. he paused momentarily, fingers hovering over the keyboard. "dude, that's so not cool for you to ask mr. jeon," daniel complained.

"what? we're reading this romantic novel, is it not fair to ask our english teacher if he's in a relationship?" lily replied, crossing her arms. "i mean we have to be reading this book for some reason."

"maybe it's just a part of the curriculum," mina rolled her eyes.

"do you seriously think mr. jeon is sending us subminimal signals about his love life through the books we're reading?" daniel asked.

"i don't know! maybe!" lily said. the three of them continued to argue back and forth at their table. wonwoo should probably stop this before the other students get irritated with the trio. "guys, i can assure you, i am not sending any messages about my love life. please get back to your work," wonwoo cleared his throat. he heard a disappointed noise, but pencils went back to scratching and pages started flipping again. soon it was the end of the class period and everyone was packing up. it was just lily. "next time, please refrain from asking personal questions in class," he asked.

"yes, of course. i'm sorry mr. jeon," lily bowed her head.

"it's alright. it can just be a bit distracting for your classmates. let's try to be more considerate."

"will do," she said, turning on her heel.

"oh and lily, just between me and you," wonwoo paused. "i don't have a girlfriend."

"he said he wasn't in a relationship!" lily cheered. daniel stared at her baffled, "didn't he say not to tell anyone?"

"yeah, but i mean, he must know that i'm going to tell you guys. you guys don't seem as nearly as excited about this as i do."

"why would we be? he's single, it's not like you have a chance with him or something," mina commented.

"no! ew! i would never try to go after a teacher, are you crazy? i'm saying that this is a perfect opportunity for us to get mr. jeon a date!" lily practically squealed.

"a date? with who?"

"with miss ___, of course! who else? haven't you guys ever noticed that they spend almost every lunch period with each other? they're so cute together!"

"maybe they're just planning classes or something," daniel shrugged.

"um, hello? mr. jeon teachers english literature and miss ___ teaches physics b. what would they planning together?"

"touché."

"i think it's time to enact a master plan."

"so everyone understands this equation, right?" you said, turning back to face the class. "tell me now, so i can help. this equation is the very foundation to magnetism, if you don't get it now i can't promise you'll do well in this unit."

no one put their hand up. you smiled, "oh well, i guess we just have a bunch of physic masters in this class. but seriously, let me know if you need help. you can start working on your homework packet now, this way if you have questions you can ask them now. i don't need your frantic emails at midnight."

you returned to your desk and flipped through some lesson plans. you didn't get to finish eating lunch today, so you took out your lunch bag. a small slip of paper fell out of it and onto the ground. you smiled to yourself and reached down to pick it up. "miss ___!" your student lily said, she was standing at the foot of your desk.

"yes, lily?" you answered.

"i have a question about something."

"have at it."

"it isn't physics related though." you looked up, slipping the slip into your pocket. "then, what's it about? do you need to go to the nurse?" you frowned.

"no it's nothing like that, but i was told by another teacher not to ask questions like this in front of the whole class. he said it was inconsiderate," she shrugged.

"oh, um, well i guess you can go ahead."

"are you friends with mr. jeon?"

you froze. mr. jeon? as in english literature teacher mr. jeon? mr. jeon you eat lunch with him every day mr. jeon? maybe they started picking up on something. "well, yeah, i guess you could say that," you coughed. "why are you asking this all a sudden?"

"well, i came by mr. jeon's class before lunch to ask him about an assignment and i saw you there. i didn't want to interrupt, but i didn't know you guys were friends," she shrugged, averting her eyes.

"oh well, yes. mr. jeon started at his position around the same time i did a few years ago. so we got close because of that."

"that's so- i mean, i'm sorry to pry. i was just curious. i mean usually i don't see english teachers and physics teachers talk that much. thanks!"

the whole exchange left you a little baffled.

lily seemed determined to get you and wonwoo together. she began to pry more often and she was getting bolder one question at a time. she even asked if you were in a relationship and if you got you cute gifts for birthdays and holidays from your boyfriend. sometimes she got very bold and mentioned mr. jeon by name. "miss ___, don't you think mr. jeon is cute? you two would be so cute together." you had replied, "i don't think this is time or the place to talk about this, lily. please do your practice problems." you rolled your eyes, "i don't feel like i'm at liberty to answer that."

you couldn't bring yourself to actually discipline her or her friends (who had seemingly joined in on the deep dive about your love life). they were curious teenagers looking for gossip. hell, you were like that too. you felt it would be unfair to punish them for that, as long as it didn't get too inappropriate, you didn't mind. it was a bit endearing too.

you just had to push the thought out of your mind. it was time to go to lunch anyway. it was the perfect time to clear your head.

"has lily been asking you some personal questions lately?" wonwoo asked, leaning back in his chair. god, he looked so handsome today. his glasses, pressed shirt, and ironed pants. "yes, has she been causing a raucous here too?" you asked, taking a seat at one of the desks.

"well, she asked me if i think you're beautiful," he chuckled.

you paused. you would be lying if you said you didn't feel anything for the man sitting in front of you. he was smart and kind.

"of course, i told her you are a lovely human being inside and out, and to get back to doing her project."

"funny, she was telling me that she and her friends thought we'd make a cute couple." he laughed at that, and it made your chest flutter. you loved his laugh. "cute couple, that's so cute," he gasped.

"yeah i know right. who knew our students would start trying to set us up," you joked. he nodded in agreement getting up after his microwave went off from the other side of the room. "it would be so funny if they actually succeeded, but it does seem a bit pointless at this point, right?" he noted.

"yeah, totally pointless," you agreed.

you and wonwoo, being set up, by your students of all people. it sure would be for the books if it happened like that.

what an absurd idea.

the rest of the week went as usual, uneventful, but you did get to see wonwoo on the way out of the building and into the parking lot. he held his leather bag in his right hand. "on the way out today?" he asked. "don't you usually do tutoring sessions after school on fridays?"

"we just started a unit, and no one showed up after the fifteen-minute window. i'm out of here," you laughed. he smiled. you loved it when he smiled. "want to walk out together then?" he offered and pushed the door open for you. something about him was so calming and comforting. you smiled and averted your gaze to the floor. even after all these years, he made you a little nervous. you did miss the way he grinned when he caught your shy smile. he loved the way you smiled too. he couldn't wait to see it again, he needed to see it again as soon as possible. he was too lost in thought about the way you smile and the way your voice sounds, that he fell far behind you. "___, wait up," he called as you made your way through the faculty parking lot. he jogged to catch up to you and reached out to grab your hand.

"i swear i saw him kiss her out in the parking lot," daniel insisted. "they were holding hands too!" at this point, lily was totally unmotivated to get her two favorite teachers together. not after miss ___ shut her down on numerous occasions and mr. jeon was just as friendly but unbothered as ever giving his most PG answers. "whatever, daniel," lily huffed. "they would be so perfect together."

"he's literally telling you that they're together, he saw them kissing!" mina exclaimed. lily rolled her eyes. they were all hallucinating just to make themselves feel better that it was wishful thinking. "true love isn't real!" she cried.

"it's time to wake up, sweetheart," he mumbled. "you said you had lots of work to do today."

"yeah, well it's my day off too. i'll get to work later," his fiancé groaned.

"oh come on, i know you're desperate to do all that paperwork," he teased. he tugged on the warm body text to him to pull it closer to him. he loved waking up with his wonderful, beautiful, smart fiancé next to him.

he loved waking up next to you.

he knew the kids were asking about him and his love life. kids would be kids of course. "lily won't stop asking about my love life. it's funny since we both teach her," he said.

"i guess, she's never noticed the necklace with the ring hanging around my neck," you chuckled, nuzzling your face into wonwoo's neck. his arms easily wrapped around your body. he pressed a soft kiss to your forehead. "you know, lily asked me if i had a girlfriend the other week," wonwoo murmured.

"she asked me if i had a boyfriend too," you hummed. "i just told her that it wasn't appropriate to ask that in class."

"i said something similar, but i did tell her i didn't have a girlfriend."

you paused. why would he say that? he was very obviously in a relationship, well obvious to the two of you. he even gave you a ring and a nice dinner to cement your relationship. "i obviously couldn't tell that i didn't have a girlfriend because i have a wonderful, smart fiancé," he laughed. you breathed an internal sigh of relief, but you still hit him in the chest. "that's so stupid," you groaned. "you're catching everyone on a technicality." he thought he was so clever and funny, ever the wordsmith.

"it's so hard not telling the students," wonwoo whispered, and you nodded your head in agreement. he didn't know why the two of you didn't tell the students yet, but the relationship started a bit secretively, almost right after the both of you were onboarded. he guessed the two of you never got out of the whole secret relationship. it was a bit exhilarating keeping the secret between you and him, and the admin. he felt like a teenager again. "maybe we should ease them into it, but let's not let them think it was all them," you said.

"maybe it's time for you to start wearing the ring on your finger then," he commented pulling away to get a better look at you. "i can't wait for you to become mrs. jeon," he smiled.

"yuck, so corny," you rolled your eyes with a smile. "you need to stop with these cheesy sayings early in the morning." nevertheless, you leaned forward and kissed him. he kissed back easily, "come on, i know you like the little notes i leave in your lunch."

"i do, now be quiet and just kiss me."

"gladly."

he did have the whole weekend until he had to go back to school. at least you made the day a little better.

min | im just in a silly goofy mood LOL. my poor attempt at humor and portraying what high schoolers are like. wonwoo being an english teacher just makes sense!!! reblogs and comments are always appreciated! not proofread at the moment (it's 1 in the morning)

tagging: @a-wandering-stay

[dejabooooo]

Ok I’m doing it. Idk if anyone will read this but here’s a compilation of all the stancest crumbs from bill’s book along with a stancest endgame theory:

I say theory because I can’t think of a better word atm. I know this is obviously not the intention of the text. I am merely taking the information we were given and twisting it to fit my sick agenda. It’s what bill would have wanted (Well maybe not quite like this but lol fuck him anyway).

So! Obviously billford was the star of the show here, but as I learned a little bit more about the codes I didn’t just learn what they say. I learned that all the stancest ship fuel is contained within them, and even tho it’s not much in comparison, what we did get is pretty profound!

There was a brand new code alphabet introduced in this book that we’ve never seen before. This cute little bros code that Stan and Ford invented when they were kids. Besides this image, this code is used only three times in the entire book.

The first (and insanely subtle) instance is on this page where ford concludes that Stan is the only person he can turn to after bill drives him to his breaking point:

It’s very small and hard to make out. On the window amid the equations.

It says: “miss you”

Pertaining the contents of this page, my first thought was that this is probably meant to be interpreted as a message directed at Fiddleford. But that wouldn’t really make sense given how it’s presented. This wasn’t written in after the fact. It couldn’t be directed at Fiddleford, they’re standing together arm in arm. It’s a code only Ford and Stan know, and this pic wasn’t taken long after they separated. This message must be about Stanley.

Ford uses the code on the next page, the last lost journal page where he’s talking about reaching out to Stan. It translates to: “have I been too harsh all along?”

This is so gut wrenching to me because he’s never written in this code literally anywhere else in the entire journal. And he says this vulnerable little line about Stanley in this code he probably hasn’t used in years but still remembers, in this code that only Stan would be able to understand besides himself.

The last usage is by Stan. Because the rest of the family is watching him write this, to the rest of them it just looks like he’s censoring his cussing for the kids’ sakes. But to ford, stan’s slyly writing him a little message that only he can see…

And what does it say?

“Love ya bro”

Ford’s arc in this book is realizing he should put his attention and concern in the ones that love him rather than fueling his obsessive hatred toward the one who hurt him. He comes to understand that he’ll be happier if he’s open about his past and rely on his family whose affection isn’t conditional like bill’s was. He moves past his shame, and comes out of the paranoid isolation that bill had encouraged him into.

And of course he receives this comfort from his whole family. But I think it’s very interesting how bill is framed as this toxic ex, Fiddleford is framed as the one he should have put his trust in during that pivotal time in 80s where ford ultimately blew his chance, and then there’s Stan.

Stan is hardly brought up at all but his presence lingers in more than few of Ford’s vulnerable journal entries. Stan is the one who put Bill in his place. Stan is the one who made Ford realize where his priorities should be. Stan is the one who’s accepted him all along and is the one remaining by his side in the end.

Bill even blames Stan for stealing ford from him like a jealous ex who can’t stand the fact that ford has moved on with someone else. (This is directed at the reader but it mirrors his frustration with the stans when they worked together to defeat him)

In conclusion: incest somehow ended up being the healthiest partnership option all along. Who knew?

BONUS CODE THAT CAN BE MISCONSTRUED IN A MORALLY REPREHENSIBLE WAY:

At the bottom of the first lost journal page where he’s talking about his loneliness and yearning for human connection, he mentions Stan in a code again. After embarrassing himself in front of the waitress he says: “Stanley could have made her laugh” 💔

[measuredingold]

caught between black and white

authors note: hello hello hello ! long awaited part two of you right and i know this probably isn’t what you guys were wanting but i wanted noah’s pov to kind of explain why things happened the way they did so… stay with me 👀 part three everything will come together. title from alkaline by sleep token. as always enjoy and feedback is always appreciated :)

pairing: noah sebastian x reader

divider: @saradika-graphics 🖤

cross posted on ao3 / part one

word count: 3.5k

cw/tw: swearing, arguing, Noah Sebastian Is Bad At Feelings lol, 18+ minors do not interact

Noah's not sure how he got here. Well, okay. Backtrack - he knows how he got here with you, and knows why you're looking at him like you want to fucking smack the shit out of him. What he means is here, right now, in this kitchen. He wasn't expecting to see you, especially after not hearing from you in the last three months. He expected you to keep far from him.

You had to have known he was going to be here tonight? This party - get together, whatever - was literally for him and the guys for completing yet another tour. He had a feeling you hated him, and he doesn't blame you. So, why were you here?

He had just turned away from the fridge to get himself another water when he found you standing across from him, face pulled into a scowl and eyes narrowed in a glare. He jumps a little at the sudden sight of you, eyes widening.

He says your name gently, "Hey."

"Shut up, Noah."

Right. Got it. You're pissed at him. He presses his lips together and nods his head, fingers tightening around the bottle of water in his hands. You shift on your feet, pulling your drink close to your chest. From the flush in your cheeks and you fucking speaking to him in the first time in three months, he's going to assume you've already had a few of those.

"I didn't want to come tonight." You pause, as if you're wanting him to respond, but continue before he could even think of speaking, "I didn't want to see you."

“…Okay."

"Do you know why I didn't want to see you?"

He does know. He knows exactly why you don't want to see him, knows why you haven't texted him in almost three months. He expected a long message of you cussing him out at the very least because he knew you'd never call him. Part of him wanted it, pathetically so, because it was a direct line to you. He still had some sort of connection, even if it was you pissed at him.

After a month of no contact Noah found himself in a hotel room late one night, thumb hovering over the send button of his message asking if you could talk. About what, he wasn’t sure. He just wanted to hear from you, maybe even say he was sorry. His stomach drops the second he hits send, the usual blue text bubble turning green.

You had blocked him. Rightfully so - he deserved that.

"I do."

Your gaze is becoming almost too much and he looks anywhere but you, opting to look at the cabinets above your head. They've become very interesting in the last five seconds. A moment of silence passes, thirty seconds, a minute, and then his eyes drop back down to you.

You're still looking at him.

"What?" He doesn't mean for it to come out so harsh but it does, and his arms tighten around his chest when your eyes narrow at him.

"What?" You laugh, but nothing's funny. "That's all you have to say?"

"What do you think I should say?"

He's digging himself a hole and he's doing it on fucking purpose. He wants you to hate him. Needs you to hate him because if you do, walking away tonight won't be as painful. Your gaze hardens, eyes turning cold as you scoff at his words.

"You can't be fucking serious right now."

"I don't know what you want from me."

"You know what I fucking want," You stop to let out a frustrated sigh, eyes shutting to take a deep breath before continuing, "I want an I'm sorry. I want an I didn't mean to hurt you. I want a genuine fucking apology for your shitty ass behavior."

Noah wishes he could say them, wishes he could give you what you want because he so desperately does want to say that and more. But he can't. His mouth won't move. Instead he swallows those words down, blinking at you.

"But you won't. I know you won't." You laugh again, hands flying at your sides. "Because you never do. You never once fucking apologized for using me for your own gain-"

"You used me, too." Oh, so his mouth can move.

Your eyes narrow again. "I was fucking in love with you, Noah. You knew I’d never tell you no.”

Noah blinks. He wasn't expecting that.

Your easy confession has his stomach twisting, heart dropping, and he feels his body heating up. His neck is probably red at this point. You were in love with him? Sure, he expected there were some type of feelings there for him, but love? There's no way he heard that right.

It's always been so hard for him to even admit to anyone how he felt, no matter the circumstances. He never understood how it came so easy for others. Feelings were so complicated, they made things confusing and it always comes with a price. The price being that someone will eventually get hurt, and that someone is usually him. The thought of letting someone in, letting them through the cracks between the walls he built around himself, makes him sick to his fucking stomach.

What good is it to let you in when you'll eventually leave?

No matter what he felt for you, no matter how much he just wanted to fucking say it back, Noah couldn't. He'd never allow himself to say it so freely, so openly, because he knew what would happen. You would leave. You'd realize he was too... difficult. Too much baggage to handle and realize it wasn't worth it, and he'd have to fix those walls you brought down.

He couldn’t let himself be so vulnerable.

This was easier, for both you and him. Keeping you close enough so he can have you like this, in the way he so desperately wanted, but far enough that you didn't have to see the real him.

"You don't love me." The words fall from him easily, head shaking.

"Don't play dumb, Noah." You laugh again, a pitiful fucking sound and he frowns. "You know it’s true. I wouldn't have stayed this fucking long if I hadn't."

"You don't-"

"No." He shuts up immediately at your tone, lips pressing together. You're pointing at him, eyes back in their narrowed glare. "You don't get to tell me how I feel. You actually don't get to fucking speak, okay? You've done enough."

With widen eyes, all Noah can do is nod. He swallows down the lump in his throat as he watches you let out a long, dejected sigh. You pinch the bridge of your nose, eyes fluttering shut briefly.

"I'm done," You start, and Noah does everything in his power to ignore the wobble in your voice, "doing this with you. I can't do it anymore. I'm done letting... letting someone who doesn't give two shits walk all over me. Use me when it's convenient." His gaze drops to the floor when he notices you lift a hand to wipe at your eyes. "You never fucking cared about me."

He so desperately wants to tell you that that wasn't true, that he did. He damn near felt the same about you, but instead of voicing that he kept his mouth shut and didn't speak like you had asked.

"I just feel so fucking stupid because I never really thought there would ever be a chance. I wasn't naïve. But last time, when you said," Another shaky breath comes from you and Noah's chest tightens at the sound, "when you said you fucking missed me. That all I needed was you. It felt... different. I thought that you..."

He winces at the laugh you let out this time, each one sounding more and more heartbreaking than the last. He used to love your laugh, how full of life it had sounded, but right now he fucking hates it.

"Obviously I thought wrong. You left me. Without a fucking goodbye."

Noah doesn't know why he looks up, because the ground beneath his feet is pretty interesting at the moment, but he does. He wishes he hadn't because you're rubbing at your eyes again but failing miserably, a few stray tears falling down your cheeks. He clears his throat before swallowing thickly, blinking away the sudden burning behind his eyes.

"I wanted to stay." He finally says, your eyes landing on him. They narrow again. "I almost did."

"Bullshit. You never stay."

"I know." A pause. "Doesn't mean I don't want to."

Your eyes soften for just a moment and you watch him in silence. Your gaze still burns before his eyes never waver from yours, trying to get across that he meant it. He could say so much more, the words on the tip of his tongue, but he remains silent instead. He still can't say it, so he hopes that's good enough.

"It's really hard to believe that."

Noah doesn't say anything, just nods because he knows it's hard. He fucking does and he wishes he could just say what he so desperately wants to. He mentally smacks himself because why is it so fucking hard? It shouldn't be. It should be easy, telling the person you want that you have feelings for them.

So, why does it feel like the hardest thing he's ever done?

"I know. You have no reason to believe me. I just..." He finally says, words trailing off and throat closing up again.

He can't finish his sentence, stomach twisting so violently he swears he's going to be sick at any given moment. Your eyes never move from him, watching him so intently he's certain you can see through him at this point. You eventually look away, scoffing to yourself.

"Why?"

His brows furrow. "Why what?"

"Why should I believe you?"

He stills. Why should you believe him? He's given you plenty of reasons not to, and given exactly zero on why you should.

"Um." His chest tightens, breathing picking up because he doesn't know what to say. I love you, too. But is that even enough now? "Because..."

His words trail off again and it's now growing harder and harder to even look at you. He looks down again, body heating up because the room is getting hotter - it's literally just him - and suddenly he wishes he could be anywhere else in the world but here.

You laugh again, much weaker. "If you can't even say it, how am I supposed to believe you?"

Noah presses his lips together and gives you a shrug in response, too afraid to even use his voice. The silence that follows has his skin crawling and every time he hears you sniffle across from him, he wishes the floor would just swallow him whole. He's screaming at himself in his head, chanting Tell her! Tell her! but he can't. He won't.

He's already made his decision.

"I meant what I said," your voice startles him, brown eyes looking up at you finally, "when I said I was done. I am. We can't keep doing this. I can't keep letting you hurt me. I deserve better."

His heart breaks at that because he knows you're right. You do deserve better. You've always deserved better than him. He couldn't give you what you wanted, no matter how hard he tried.

"You do."

"I do."

There's a finality in your voice, almost like the final nail in the coffin, and Noah knows this is it. You were actually done. You were walking away just like he expected, just like he wanted. This was for the best. He knew it. You finally knew it, too.

But why does it still hurt all the same?

"Everything good in here?"

Nicholas' voice has both you and Noah looking up in surprise, flushes on both of your cheeks. The older males clear eyes narrow as he looks between the two of you before his eyes remain solely on Noah. He swallows thickly, head nodding.

"Yeah."

"I was just leaving, actually." You manage to get out, clearing your throat to hide the way your voice wavered. Noah didn't miss it, and neither did Nicholas with the way his eyes narrow even further. You turn your focus to his best-friend and bandmate, mustering up the best smile that you could. "It was nice to see you again, Nick."

"You, too."

Noah's gaze meets yours and there's something in them, something he can't quite place. Longing? Regret? He doesn't know because it's gone as soon as it comes.

"Goodbye, Noah."

And then you're gone, not sparing him one more glance as you make your way out of the kitchen. Noah doesn't move, eyes trained to where you once stood. He doesn't even notice when Nicholas slides up next to him, leaning back against the counter just like him.

"What the fuck was that?"

"Nothing."

"Don't piss me off, dude."

"We were just talking." Noah sighs now, casting a glance at his friend. "That's it."

Nicholas pauses for a moment. "She ended it, didn't she?"

Of course he knew. Noah had told his friend the very second he and you started... whatever the fuck this was. He needed someone to know, someone he could trust. He's sure everyone else suspected it, especially when you two would sneak off together and come back maybe an hour later, clothes and hair disheveled from god knows what.

"Yeah." He nods. "She did."

"Sometimes I wish you'd just let yourself have nice things." Nicholas sighs out, tilting his head back.

"It's not that simple-"

"Do you or do you not have feelings for her?" Nicholas cuts him off and holds his gaze for a moment before Noah looks away, clearing his throat. "Yes or no answer, dude.”

"Why does that matter?"

"It always fucking matters."

"Who cares if I do?" He's growing frustrated now, wanting to talk about anything else but this. "It won't change the fact that she'll eventually fucking leave. She already did, man. I just saved her and I from wasting our time."

Nicholas doesn't respond right away and Noah looks back at him. He fucking hates the look his friend is giving him, soft eyes full of fucking pity because he knows. He knows why Noah acts the way that he does, which pisses him off even more.

"Don't look at me like that."

"Noah, I just want what's best for you-"

"What's best for me, Nick?" His anger only rises at this, face set in a scowl as he finally turns his body to face his bandmate. "Since you fucking know everything."

"Don't talk to me like that." Nicholas points an accusing finger towards Noah, face hardening and brows furrowing.

"And don't act like you know what's best for me." Noah snaps, lips dipping into a frown. "You and I both know this is what's best. She's better off, she doesn't need to deal with..." He motions towards himself, shoulders slumping. "...all of this."

Nicholas' face softens and his frown only deepens. "Noah..."

"And do I wish I could just fucking tell her? Sure, but that doesn't stop the voice in my head telling me she'll get up and leave like everyone else because it's too much." He leans back against the counter, arms crossing. The weight on his chest lightens only a bit at his confession, but the heaviness in his stomach remains. "Watching her leave now is easier."

"Is it?"

"Yeah."

Noah's eyes drop to his feet when he hears Nicholas shuffle around, standing in front of him. He feels his friends hand on his shoulder but doesn't bother looking up, his shoes becoming the most interesting thing to him.

"I wish you'd let yourself have nice things." Nicholas says again, fingers squeezing Noah's shoulder before his hand drops. "And I wish you'd stop thinking the absolute worst when it comes to people. How do you know she'll leave?"

"Everyone does."

"I haven't." Nicholas' response is quick. "Jolly hasn't. Neither has Folio."

"Yeah, but that's different-"

"No, it's not." Another sigh and Noah finally looks up at Nicholas, watching as the male pinches the bridge of his nose. "You can't keep living like this. In the what ifs, consumed by what could happen when you have no fucking clue if it actually will."

"But it will-"

Nicholas stops him again, holding a hand up. Noah's mouth shuts. "You don't know that. Just..." He sighs, tipping his head back to stare at the ceiling. "I know it's happened before and it's fucking terrifying, I know, but dude... there's no way that you know she'll leave."

"She just did."

"Because you made her."

Nicholas is staring at him again and Noah feels small under his gaze, which is crazy because he's a few inches taller than him. He knows he's not wrong, he did make her leave, but it was only to protect her and himself from the inevitable.

Right?

"I just want you to be happy. That's all I want." Noah watches Nicholas' gaze soften, a sad smile settling on his lips. "I think she could be the one to do that.

Noha's chest aches at his friend's words, sadness settling in his bones and suddenly he feels... He feels that Nicholas might be right. The feeling is brief though before he's shaking his head, arms crossing back over his chest as he finally pivots his gaze away from Nicholas.

"Well, it's too late for that."

There's a brief moment of silence before Nicholas says, "It doesn't have to be."

"Nick," He sighs, eyes fluttering shut. "It is too late. She's gone. Even if I wanted to fucking, I don't know, chase after her and tell her I'm sorry it won't change anything. She told me she was done."

"Well-"

"Can we just not talk about this anymore? It's done. It's over with. There's nothing else for me to do." Noah's eyes find his best friend again, pushing himself off the counter. "And I'm honestly ready to go. I'm fucking tired. I miss my bed."

He tries his best to ignore the lingering sadness swirling around his chest, shoving it so far back as he reaches for his forgotten water bottle. Nicholas continues to stay where he is, watching Noah with a sort of look he's never seen before. His own eyes narrow at his friend and there's maybe a thirty second stare-off before Nicholas' shoulders sag, a sigh leaving his lips.

"Whatever, man."

A small weight feels like it's been lifted from Noah's shoulder and he gives Nicholas a nod, thankful that he's finally dropped it. Nothing else could be done, Noah knows this. There's no point in dwelling on the what ifs, what's done is done. You're gone and you're far better off, he thinks, even if the thought does make his stomach twist painfully.

That pain will go away soon enough. It always does. He'll go back to his normal self, no more thoughts of you lingering in the back of his mind. He'll be fine. He always is.

Nicholas bids Noah a goodnight, watching as his friend trudges his way up the stairs. He waits until he hears his bedroom door shut before he's fishing out his phone, scrolling through his contact list before he finally comes across your name.

Is he meddling in someone else's business? Sure, but he feels like he needs to do this because he knows you and Noah won't, both way too stubborn for your own good. He has no idea if you'll reply anyways, but it's worth a shot.

Hey! It was really nice seeing you tonight.

He lets out the breath he had been holding when he presses send, watching as the message goes through. Below the blue text box shows that the message had been delivered, and he's glad to know that the only number you seemed to block was Noah's. He sits for a minute, then two, and after five he starts to think you won't answer until he hears a ding come from his phone.

Hi! You too. Sorry I dipped so quick. I had to get home.

He knows why you did, but doesn't bother mentioning it.

It's all good!

I was wondering if you'd like to meet up tomorrow, grab lunch? That little place on 5th that you like. My treat. Been a second since we've seen each other and we need to catch up. Got some crazy stories to tell you.

I think I'm free after 2 tomorrow if that's alright?

Perfectly fine with me, I don't have any plans lol I'll pick you up?

Do you mind if I just meet you there? I won't be home but I'll be nearby there.

Sounds good to me :)

Great! See you tomorrow.

Nicholas reacts to your message with a thumbs up and leaves it at that and he feels the tension in his shoulders finally relax.

He really fucking hopes this works.

[dansemacabre]

are you stuck trying to decode the book of bill but you don’t want the keys handed to you? i was in your shoes literally three days ago! i failed and looked up codes on reddit (because a good grade in book of bill is a normal thing to want and a possible thing to get) but now you don’t have to!! here are some BOOK OF BILL CODEBREAKING HINTS designed to kindly shove you in the right direction!

my credentials are: one summer cryptography class i took in high school, autism, weirdly good pattern recognition (probably because of the autism), and a desperate need to make things make sense. sorry in advance if any of this seems patronizing. hints below the page break!!

general tips:

- A and I will become your bestest friends. like 99 times out of 100 any single letter is a or i. try those out first

- the apostrophe will also become your bestest friend- especially x’x, which will almost always be i’m (except there’s one place in the book where it is not. don’t make my mistakes.)

- themysteryofgravityfalls.com is SO so helpful. for non-symbolic ciphers u can lowkey put in codes and button mash caesar and atbash. godsend. devilsend? idk someone sent it and it’s wonderful

- call every phone number, visit every website. they bought those domains for a reason! i think!

- any list of numbers 1-26 is a1z26. like that’s simply a truth

cipher specific hints now !!!

RUNES (characters taken from norse runes)

- there is a key for this one in the book! maybe u spotted it right away but i did not lol, so look for an instance of 26 rune-y characters!

- the rune code on the inside cover is a graffiti joke- translates to a common thing people write on walls or carve into books made out of brain matter ig

THERAPESE (found in the last few pages during bills court-ordered therapy)

- bill’s picture is labeled in this section, so those characters translate directly to “bill cipher” ! once you have those, you can apply them to other instances of the code and go from there

- the rest of the names of the… things around him on the inpatients page are puns, titles, and/or weird words. they might look wrong until you have Every Character- trust ur key! use the rest of the instances of this code to find the missing letters first, make sense of it and laugh at the clever little joke later

BROSCODE (only two instances, found in journal 3 lost pages)

- the name is a hint by itself- this is stanley and stanford related! both stans use it once somewhere in the book!

NEWBILL (the most common symbolic cipher in the book)

- if you have journal three, the characters are VERY similar to a code there- not the same though, so don’t try and use that key. but like journal three, this code will (almost) always be bill speaking.

- ok lowkey i think the best way to explain this is just to give you one answer. i cracked this by randomly guessing that the small writing by the galaxy drawing on the journal three page “a voice form the past” translates to “forget the past”. go from there my loves

- that being said. everything else from journal three uses the same characters, but a different code. haven’t cracked it yet. looking for advice tee bee haych. i’ll edit this once i find it out

- also: dipper uses this code in his section. that’s pretty helpful to get most of the rest of the characters!

now some page specific hints!:

silly straw page. Oh god

- damn that themysteryofgravityfallsdotcom sure is helpful! Anyway,

- the numbers code is Weird. but the number don’t equal letters. notice the spaces between number groups- pair the groups, try and add a dash somewhere within the first group and a colon somewhere within the second group. you’ll have to use your resources a little

- if that made zero sense: “uhvrxufhv” phdqv brxu idyrulwh ghhsob ohjdo wy vkrz ylhzlqj zhevlwh. ru brxu kxox dffrxqw

- sorry for the vagueness but i really don’t want to spoil this one- i got it spoiled but i think figuring it out on your own would be really rewarding and worth your Time

messages on your tv

- there are strange boxes on the bottom of the page. gonna be so honest don’t know how they mean anything at all to anyone but allegedly it’s a code! i’ll look into it. idk man

okay. i think that’s all i’ve got? please comment if u have questions for me or other folks on here or suggestions on how to sound less like a fucking nerd talking abt this shit. idk i love that people are set on cracking this book asap but i hope this helps ppl who prefer The Thrill Of The Chase and also like to feel smart and important and so very talented

[jarofstyles]

Cerulean

Here it is! Indigo part 2… even years later lol. after literal years... we are continuing with it. If you're unfamiliar, here is part one.

I hope you enjoy our new(ish) babies.

Check out our Patreon!

warnings- mention of anxiety, tattoos, tooth rotting fluffy babies, miscommunication

WC- 4.2k

----

Y/N stared nervously at her phone. Harry’s contact was up in the bubble, her first message to him sitting unsent on the screen.

He had actually given her his number. He said that he would talk to her about his tattoos and his shop and he had said she could call him H, which- Gah! She wanted to squeal when she had woken up and remembered it all. The headache had been gnarly, but she recalled most of the night very vividly. How Harry had taken charge and told the man bothering her off, how he had admitted that she intimidated her somehow because he thought she was pretty and his glaring wasn’t because of hatred- it was nerves, anxiety and trying to figure out how to talk to her.

He’d placed her number into his phone under a simple letter, H, and promised to text him later.

Did the next day qualify as later?

It was almost noon and she had sent off a few emails to her publisher that was working with her on one of her fashion articles, trying to waste time to not seem overly eager. Washing the dishes, switching her laundry, even taking her cat for a walk(unconventional but Nibbles had been a street kitten, he liked to go outside), even taking a full body shower with the shaving and the deep hair mask. Her headache had faded to an dull throb with the help of a tylenol, and she was now ready to bite the bullet.

Y/N: Hiiii :D It’s Y/N.

Y/N: Hope I’m not bugging you but I was thinking about finally getting a tattoo. I had some questions and I figured you’d be perfect to ask.

It wasn’t a lie. Y/N really had been considering a tattoo and asking Harry, though she had been planning on going to him anyway out of courtesy before she had gotten the whole ‘i think he hates me’ thing cleared up. She’d never go to a different artist if she could support someone in the friend group. Now it was an exciting thing for her, a giddiness in her stomach rising when she saw the three dots in the texting bubble showing that he was replying.

Hm. He didn’t have his read receipts on. Interesting.

A response popped up quite quickly after sending her message.

H: Hi. You aren’t bugging. Come down to the shop, it’s slow today.

Y/N nearly choked on her lemonade. He wanted her to come? Today?! Her bare foot tapped anxiously against the carpet as she blinked at her phone screen, trying to find the right words to respond. She didn’t want to bother him or annoy him, even though he had said she wasn't’ bugging', the girl was still a bit nervous. Last night she had called him super cool and said she wanted to spend time with him alone but she had to wonder if she was brave enough to do it so soon.

Y/N: Are you sure? I really don’t want to be a bother or anything.

His response came just as fast as the last. Did he have his phone screen open or something?

H: You aren’t. I’m doing paperwork so I don’t mind.

H: Can you bring me a coffee? I’ll venmo you.

She felt a laugh bubble from her throat as she looked at the messages. She hadn’t said yes but he was most definitely telling her to get her ass over there if she read between the lines. Considering it was a weekend, she had no excuse not to. Besides her nerves, she didn’t have one either. She liked Harry. She thought he was really cute and mysterious and he was polite when he spoke last night and something about him had her so intrigued. The girl knew she would kick herself if she didn’t go, so that’s how the decision was made.

Y/N: Sugar or cream? Do you do a latte or something fancy? Frappichino?

H: Black, please. Cold foam on top. Thanks xx

—-

Harry knew he was being awfully presumptuous but he also knew himself.

It was now or never.

Last night he had finally found his balls and spoken to the cute little thing. Granted, it took him standing up for her against a creep, but he had still done it. Y/N was coming to the nearly empty shop to talk about a tattoo, what he knew would be her very fucking first, and he was so nervous he could probably vomit if he thought about it too long.

He had always been known to be an intimidating man. He was littered with dark swirls of ink on his skin, piercings on his nose and eyebrow-and some other not so visible places-, he was pretty tall and broad shouldered and he was said to have what Niall loved to call a ‘bitch face’. His hair was longer, needing a cut as it was falling into his face, and he had his moody demeanor which tended to scare people off. Even as a teenager, pre tats and everything, he had sat quietly behind his friends while he observed and was able to keep prying people away with a simple quirk of the brow.

While that intimidating air worked wonders for getting annoyingly nosy people to fuck off and to get laid every once in a while by a girl who wanted a night with a ‘bad boy’, -words said by 2 of them, not himself- he sure as fuck didn’t want Y/N to think of him that way.

Y/N was just… She was his opposite in every way and he really, really liked it. Soft curved features as opposed to his own hard ones, a gentle glow to the eyes instead of his hardened glimmer. She had a sweet, bubbly voice that made him hang off her every damn word when he got the privilege to go out when she was there. She had called herself a fucking cinnamon roll, and she had been right. Sweet and fluffy and coated in sugar. Something he’d fucking love to taste, given the chance.

That would be a bit down the line considering Y/N wasn’t the type of girl he’d want to hook up with. She was the girl that he’d want his Mum to meet. She was the breakfast in bed, flowers every week, buy pretty dresses for type of girl. Every woman deserves that, but for him? Y/N was that exact type. He hooked up with girls that he knew he wouldn’t get attached to. Quick fucks at their place, bar bathrooms, cars. He didn’t let them inside his world because he knew what he wanted.

He’d dated before, had his heart broken a small handful of times to know what he wanted and what he didn’t. Hopefully he’d be able to sniff out some more about Y/N that he hadn’t found out through the social gatherings, grapevines and checking out her social media. She made cute little videos of her outfits almost every day on her instagram story that he watched when he had the chance. She had a cat as well. She liked pastel colors and drank a lot of tea and lemonade. She liked the pink starbursts best- he knew just from the exposure he’d gotten. The itch to gather more information had hit him hard.

Thankfully she was coming to see him today and he could stop being such a pussy. Face her alone and talk to her face to face. She was too nice to judge him if he stuttered or said the wrong thing, at least not outwardly.

He’d hoped she would text today, hoped he’d have an excuse to see her. His outfit had a bit more effort than his other ones. Sticking with all black because spilled ink was an absolute bitch to get out, if not impossible, he chose his favorite black jeans with the holes in the knees, frayed strings something to pick at when he was bored. On top he wore a black button up with little roses as buttons, left open down to his mid chest. Maybe it was slutty, but he liked to show off the ink he had. It was something he was proud of. His necklaces hung down mid chest, the silver chains and pendants slightly tangled now that he had taken a look, but it sort of worked.

He had been mid inspection when he heard the door bell jingle and the receptionist greet Y/N.

Y/N was a bit shocked at just how nice it was when she walked in. Outside she had seen the neon light in the window and the sign up above, already impressed, but it got better when she walked inside. The red and black tattoo shop had an edgy vibe. As she stepped inside, she was greeted by the checkered floors that give off a retro feel. On the left-hand side, there was a flash wall littered with a plethora of designs, featuring different what she assumed were the tattoo styles of each artist who worked out of the shop.

As she walked towards the reception desk, Y/N noticed it was made of thick dark wood and had a glossy finish and a smiling dark haired receptionist sitting behind the desk. Black frames on the side wall showed off their business license and framed newspaper articles about the shop. Obviously it had raving reviews. Y/N felt a bit guilty for not knowing, but proud of him. Obviously it was a well respected show.. Behind the desk, there was a glass cabinet displaying various jewelry for piercings and shop merchandise. She wondered if she could buy one of the hoodies or tee shirts to support him?  Oh, maybe a tote bag. That was definitely something she would use. She’d always liked the little logo. It was a bit of a surprise to her that she’d never seen him wear any of it before, only on his instagram.

Maybe he didn’t want random people talking to him about tattoos when he was out?

Greeting the receptionist, she let her eyes wander around. There seemed to be rooms for tattooing and piercings down a long hallway, some thick black, crushed velvet curtains that can be drawn closed for privacy. Convenient. At least they cared about that. Some of the ones she had looked at online pre-Harry had the bare minimum.

“Hi! Did you have an appointment?” The girl behind the counter was dressed in what she could tell was retro clothing, a slightly off the shoulder red top and a string of chunky pearls around her neck. Her hair was done up so neatly that Y/N had been instantly jealous. She had never been good at doing updos, nor did she look good with that sort of poof, but she wished she did. Her bright red lipstick would be a lot during the day for someone else, but on her? It worked. Y/N was a little intimidated already. She seemed really cool just by looking at her.

“N-No, uh, Harry told me to come-”

“She’s here for me, Liz.” Harry’s voice interrupted her own. Y/N turned around, tray of coffee in hand and a brown paper bag in the other. “This is Y/N. She’s cool.”

Cool? He thought she was cool too. Y/N felt herself flush under her clothes, swallowing thickly as he sauntered over and took the tray from her hands. “Thanks for this, gorgeous. Forgot to get new coffee for the machine.”

Y/N felt like she was having a bit of an episode. Gorgeous? He had called her gorgeous and walked over to her so confidently, as if his nerves that had gotten him to make her think he hated her had disappeared. Perhaps it was because he was in his own domain, his element. Thankfully, Liz had kept her from having to respond right away.

“Oh, sick.” She smiled up at her from her swivel chair. “Harry never has his friends here. Besides the ones who work here and Niall, but he always leaves a mess in the break room. It’s nice to see a new face. You’re really pretty.”

Y/N had to admire the confidence she carried. She was so pretty and could easily talk to people, joking with her already as if they were friends for years. “Thank you, you are as well.” She replied, the compliment making her feel even more flustered. “Niall is very good at leaving messes, I’m afraid.” That’s something she knew first hand. “I don’t have any tattoos yet so uh, Harry offered to talk to me about it.”

“Virgin skin! How exciting.” Liz chirped, twirling her straw around. “Honestly, Harry’s a great artist, perfect for a first timer if you can ignore the mean mugging. He’s super gentle and has the best lines I’ve ever seen.”

Y/N had to smile. Of course he was good. A glance at him had her observing the slight pink in his cheeks as he narrowed his eyes at Liz, who to her credit, didn’t seem phased. He was slightly embarrassed at the attention on him but still happy that she had talked him up.

Harry would be heartbroken if he scared her off of tattoos, but he tried to be a good artist with everyone. Perhaps he wasn’t super talkative but most of his clients were veteran ink people with loads already on their skin. They knew to sit quietly or listen to the music, or bring a friend to chat with so he could do his damn job.

“Anyways.” Harry cleared his throat. “Mitch’s appointment just pulled into the lot. Y/N and I are going into the office, scream if you need me.” His nod to follow her was brief, Y/N holding on to her handbag for dear life as his long legs carried him down the hallway at a much faster pace that she usually did. Thankfully she was able to hide how winded the quickness of the long hallway had made her once he opened his office door.

The floors were hardwood in his office. He had his own black desk, a black leather couch with a red acrylic coffee table and a shelf full of books. Windows from behind the desk gave it decent lighting. It was clean in here, cleaner than Y/N had ever kept her own office.

“Sorry about that.” He murmured to her, setting the coffee down on the smooth red table. “She’s really overly friendly. Great for customers but a bit nosy.” He walked towards his desk to grab his iPad and stylus, slightly flustered when the white thing fell back on the desk. His nerves were most definitely showing. Turning around he was ready to keep talking, but he was met by her body halfway across the room to look at some of his old framed flash sheets he had on the far wall.

“These are so cool, Harry.” She said quietly, eyes scanning the designs. “And you just thought of all these off the top of your head?” Turning herself to face him, she watched as he gave her a tiny bit of a smile. Still pink in the cheeks, which soothed her own nerves a little. His confidence at first had made her a tad bit scared that she was the only one stressing out about it, but he was obviously affected just as much.

“Erm… some of them. I use some reference pictures, get inspired by other works and change it so it’s my own. A lot of it is things I randomly get ideas for, though.” He rubbed his knuckle over his chin. “I work with a lot of clients who already have ideas and wants so the perimeters are more strict, so with flash it’s more of what I want to do. People who get them have a say in color and size but usually it’s a pre-printed stencil.” He explained, crossing his arms as he approached her.

She smelled really good. Was that a weird thing to think? Maybe. But it was true. He was hyperaware of everything right now, trying his best to not put his leather boot into his mouth and fuck up. There was genuine approval on her face, getting closer to the frames to scope out details and truly admiring each one. “Are these the retired ones, your favorites? Why are they stuck back here instead of with the ones out front?” Inquisitive eyes met his own.

“These are ones I’ve already done. I don’t do a ton of flash anymore because I’m usually booked for customs.” His own eyes took in the old flash sheets. Each design was something he had loved creating, but the time for them had passed. That didn’t mean he didn’t want to remember them, though. “But all of these were claimed by people when we had flash events. I don’t think it’s bad to have similar tattoos as other people but I tend to not do the same thing twice. I had gotten really sick of doing the same infinity signs and hearts and roses when I was an apprentice at the first shop.” God, he was glad that trend was over. Mostly. “There’s nothing inherently wrong with hearts or roses, s’just repetitive and I like to do stuff that challenges me. Y’know?” He turned to look at her, finding her already staring up at him. That stupid flutter moved around his stomach again.

“Oh, I can imagine. I’m really glad I didn’t get the tattoos I had on my pinterest board. I had it growing from like… 2013 to 2017 and all of them now seem very…” She rolled her lips together as she tried to politely find the word for cringe. “Not me. It’s actually why I haven't gotten anything yet.” Arms wrapped around herself, feeling a bit insecure about it. Here was this beautiful tattoo artist, in talent and looks, and she was telling him about her pinterest board of tattoos. He must be internally rolling his eyes because he did a good job of keeping a soft smile on his lips. Was it even legal for men to have lips that pretty and deep pink? Maybe it was just unfair. “I wanted to wait until I felt ready.”

“That’s a really good thing to do.” Harry was proud of her for that. Smart girl. Leaning against the side of his desk, he kept his arms crossed as he continued to talk. “You don't know how many people get impulsive tattoos as their first and regret it later. Now.. m’not one to judge because I’m fuckin’ littered in dumb ones, but I always think of it as a memory. Even if its’ a memory of being a dumbass.” His heart fluttered when he got a giggle out of her. Fucks sake, he was pathetic. “Removal is possible but not at all fun. Got a few mates and some clients who got their old ink taken off and it isn’t pleasant. Waiting is the smartest thing to do if you’re someone who thinks you could possibly regret it.”

Y/N didn’t strike him as an impulsive person. Every time he had seen her, she had seemed pretty put together. Though she could seem a little chaotic, it was an organized chaos that he had always liked. Harry, despite his impulse with tattoos when he was young and tipsy in his partying stage, liked to be a controlled person. Sometimes it was too much, which led to the anxiety he had. It was part of the reason he had such a hard time talking to Y/N at first.

She was so cute and so sweet and Harry wanted their conversations to be perfect. He had a track record of saying dumb things or at the very least, not saying them how they were meant when he was nervous. Usually his anxiety was hidden very well. He didn’t get it when it came to clients or tattoos or anything work related, but in his personal and social life? It was rampant. That was part of the reason he had quit drinking. That was a story for a different time, though.

“Yeah, I really don’t want removal.” Her nose scrunched a bit like a bunny, making his heart stutter in his chest. Cute little thing, she was. “That’s why I wanted to come to you.” There was a slight pause. “I was going to come to you even when I thought you hated me. I’d never want to support a different shop when someone in my circle is talented and has their own business.”

That hurt him a little. Even when she was under the impression that she hated him and was glaring at her, that he had made her uncomfortable, she had planned on supporting him anyways? What sort of fucking angel was she? He winced visibly at the reminder of her original thoughts. He had massively fucked up with that. What an idiot he had been. His nerves had gotten the best of him yet again.

“Y/N, I truly am sorry that I came across that way. It’s not the case, nor has it even been.” He swallowed, looking down at her hands that were clasped together. She was rocking on her heels and he could tell she had probably not wanted to bring that up, but he was glad she did because it did need to be properly addressed while she was 100% sober. “What I said last night is the truth. You just… y’make me a little nervous and I don’t like that I had no idea what to say to you.” She had come into their little friend group and been so fucking adorable, so kind and ready to take someone home if they needed, buy them a drink, talk about her little fashion brand deals. Y/N listened to everything people said, she would find the eyes of a person who had been drowned out by other conversation and encourage them. The best sort of person. “I don’t do well with people I think are pretty, people I think are sweet. S’a little intimidating for me.”

Y/N still didn’t know how that worked, but she could imagine that it must have been weird for him. She couldn’t see how she of all people could be considered intimidating but it made her a little giddy that Harry had found her to be pretty and sweet. It had been the complete opposite of what she expected to be the reason. “Well, thank you. For thinking I’m pretty and sweet, that’s- that’s really nice.” Her eyes fell down while she couldn't keep the smile off her face. “I thought maybe I’d done something like… I dunno, I get kinda touchy and gooey when I’m drunk. I asked everyone if I had accidentally said something or hung on you the first night and didn’t remember meeting you but they’d said no.” That was one of the downfalls of Y/N drunk. She loved to spread love and give cuddles and hugs. Sometimes she didn’t think twice and that had caused her friends to keep her wrangled in their grasp.

“No, no. I wouldn’t have minded any of that.” Harry realized what he had said but continued talking. “It was just me being nervous. I just wanted to apologize again cause I hate to think that you were upset about it at all… n’then…” He rolled his head back to look at the ceiling for a moment. “I feel shitty that you were going to come to me for a tattoo even after I was a dick. Even if I didn’t realize it then. You’re just a really good person.” He looked back down to see Y/N giving him a tiny smile, stepping closer to him. “Fuck, I’m rambling. Sorry.”

“No! No, it’s okay. I uh..” Another pause was paired with a pink tongue peeking out to lick her lips that Harry paid a bit too much attention to for his own good. “It’s just nice to hear you talk. You’re always so quiet but you’ve got a nice speaking voice. I like it.”

Harry wanted to scream, actually. He wanted to groan and drop his head into her sweet smelling neck and do god knows what, because that compliment made him feel really flattered and flustered. Y/N just had that fucking thing about her, this weird trait that he couldn’t quite describe that made him feeling like he was a schoolboy all over again being paired up with his crush for an assignment. How lucky was he? She had wanted his art on her forever.

“Thanks.” His response was slightly shy, looking back up at her with the pink tint still on his cheeks. He knew the back of his neck was probably flushed too.

“No problem.” Another slight pause where neither of them knew how to proceed followed but, this time neither seemed to particularly mind. Deciding to move it on so he didn’t have to look uncomfortable anymore, Y/N shot him another one of those smiles before moving back towards the coffee table, grabbing her cup from the cardboard tray. “So. Let’s talk about designs.”

[literaryavenger]

Meet The Guardians Of The Galaxy

Summary: The Avengers meet the Guardians of the Galaxy for the first time.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Avenger!Female Reader

Warnings: Minimal use of Y/N. Language. A lot of fluff. My poor attempts at being funny.

Word Count: 1.4K

A/N: I'm not sure what this is, but I was just thinking how it might go if the Avengers met the Guardians of the Galaxy. It started with the reader cooing at Groot and Bucky being jealous and this is what came out, lol, hope you like it! Needless to say, this doesn't follow the MCU timeline, like basically all of my other stories. Don't ask me how Thor knows the Guardians, the bitch just do. I also just needed Bucky fluff, like always, and I'm really happy how it turned out! Like always I appreciate asks and messages and am always up for it if you have any ideas.

Masterlist

By this point you’re very aware that there’s life on other planets, that the universe is a place much bigger than you ever imagined. Working with the Avengers allows you to see so many things that you never thought could possibly even exist.

Super soldiers, superheroes, enhanced individuals, even Thor himself is a demi-god from literally a different planet.

This particular demi-god is the reason why today you and the rest of the team find yourselves in the common room of the Avengers Compound, a spaceship casually parked in your yard.

They call themselves the Guardians of the Galaxy: Peter Quill, Gamora, Rocket, Nebula, Drax and Mantis, literal aliens currently bickering amongst themselves because they came to earth to visit Thor the wrong day, resulting in Thor not being home for their arrival.

"Is that a plushie?" you ask, a little confused, pointing at a little teddy bear-like thing on Quill’s shoulder and effectively ending their search for who is at fault for their mistake.

He looks even more confused than you and asks "What the hell is a plushie? This is Groot, he’s a Flora Colossi."

You decide, for my own peace of mind, to ignore the latin and instead focus on the cute little thing on his shoulder who is now moving and looking at you weirdly.

"I am Groot." he says in the cutest voice ever.

"Oh my god, you're just adorable!" You say, reaching your finger out for him to hold, freaking out at his cuteness.

"I remember when you used to talk to me like that…" you hear Bucky mumble behind you, which makes you laugh and, with your attention still completely on Groot, you tell him "God, you really are a needy bitch, Barnes." at which everybody laughs.

"Yeah? And you’re just a bi-"

"Hey!" you basically yell, interrupting him and startling Groot.

"I’m kidding!" he quickly says, putting up his hands in defeat. With one last glare at Bucky, your attention turns back to Groot.

"I am Groot!" he says again.

"I know honey, you said that." you tell him.

"I am Groot." he says, yet again, at which Sam answers "Yeah, you’re Groot, got it."

Groot says "I am Groot." again and, before Sam can say something that you're sure is gonna be very rude, you turn to the Guardians and ask "Why does he keep saying that?"

Rocket is the one to answer "Well, he don't know talking good like me and you. So his vocabulistics is limited to I and am and Groot. Exclusively in that order."

His answer leaves you all a little dumbfounded but again, for your own sanity, you all seem to decide to let it go.

Instead Bruce asks "So how do you understand him?"

"We speak Groot." Nebula says like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

"How can you speak ‘Groot’ if he says literally the same three words, in the exact same order, in the same way every time?" Tony asks, starting to get a little frustrated, probably because the genius can’t do something that seems to come really easy to a bunch of space idiots.

"We manage." Quill simply says.

At this point Groot reaches his little hands towards you, signaling that he wants to be picked up, so, before Tony can make any sarcastic comment, you look at Quill and ask, excitement clear on your face "Can I?" while pointing at an awaiting Groot.

"Sure." He says, and you very carefully pick him up and put him on your shoulder.

"Be careful not to move too fast, he’ll hold onto your hair for dear life." Gamora warns you.

"Noted." you say giggling a little when Groot sticks his tongue out to Gamora, then she does the same to him, making everyone else laugh too.

"Buck, look how cute he is." you coo at Groot who's playing with your finger.

"’s not that cute…" he says quietly but you hear him, and apparently so does Groot because he says "I am Groot." in a very annoyed tone that prompts a chorus of whoas and protests from the guardians.

"The acorns on you, kid!" Quill says, and everybody just knows he said some really bad words to Bucky.

"Who even taught you that word?!" Rocket sounds like an exasperated parent.

"I am Groot."

"What do you mean, Drax taught you?! WHY WOULD YOU TEACH HIM THAT?" 

"The small tree asked." Drax says unbothered.

"Just because he asks doesn't mean you have to teach him dirty words!"

"How was I supposed to know that?"

"It's really common sense, Drax." Gamora interjects, calmer than Rocket.

"I am Groot."

"See, even Groot knows you don’t have common sense, Drax, that’s why he asked you." Quill says.

"I am Groot."

"I am not stupid, tree!" Drax glares at Groot.

"See, he’s not cute. He’s a disrespectful little shit!" Bucky says, also glaring at poor Groot.

"I am Groot." the guardians snicker, leaving the rest of you confused.

"What? What did he say?" you're too curious not to ask as Groot is now glaring back at Bucky.

"He said he doesn’t understand how a sweet person like you is with someone like him." Nebula translates, earning some gasps and snickers from everyone else too.

You look at Bucky trying hard not to laugh and he looks like he's about 5 seconds away from murdering Groot.

He takes a step towards you but Groot, still on your shoulder, makes the cutest little growl and starts flinging one of his arms around in Bucky’s direction, the other one holding to your hair so as to not fall.

"Oh, he’s ready to fight a bitch." you say unable to hold in your laughter any longer and the others follow you.

"What?" you turn around and Drax is giving you a confused look.

"What?" you say, calming down from your laughter.

"I do not understand. He does not resemble a female dog." he looks at Bucky and then back at you.

"He- I don- What?" you’re as confused as you’ve ever been, everybody else’s faces mirroring your own.

"His people are completely literal, he doesn’t understand metaphors." Rocket explains.

"Oh… fun." Tony says, still a little confused.

"Is it though?" you hear Gamora mumble, before Mantis starts giggling.

"It is!" she says with the joy of a kid on christmas morning.

"It’s really not." Nebula says casually, and from that the Guardians start bickering amongst each other.

You look at Groot who’s still on the warpath with Bucky and then at Rocket, the only one not saying anything.

He meets your eyes and simply says. "This is what I gotta live with."

"Oh, poor little racoon." you coo at him while laughing and that seems to stop the bickering.

"Hey, I am no racoon!" Rocket tells you defensively.

"I am Groot." Rocket groans and Quill snickers.

"Groot’s right, he’s a trash panda." he says knowing the people of earth will know why that’s funny.

Some of the Avengers laugh, but you gasp trying to hide your amusement for Rocket’s sake.

"You know, you might be right, Buck. He’s not that cute and innocent after all." you turn to your boyfriend, who gives you a slight pout.

"I’m cuter than him, right"- he asks you with those puppy eyes he knows make you melt.

"Aww, of course you are, baby." you give him a kiss on the cheek, almost forgetting about Groot on your shoulder until he talks again.

"I am Groot." the Guardians “aww” and coo at him but before you can ask, Mantis explains. "He says he understands now why you’re together."

"He says he can see how much you two love each other." Gamora finishes.

You smile at Groot and he smiles back before making the cutest yawn, looking at Bucky and doing grabby hands at him.

Bucky looks at you and you take his hand and guide it towards where Groot is, he’s uncertain but when Groot climbs on his hand Bucky looks almost like a little kid seeing a butterfly up close for the first time.

He brings Groot against his chest and the little tree gets comfortable and falls asleep almost immediately, while everyone else in the room coos at the two.

"This might be the cutest thing I’ve ever seen." you whisper, not wanting to wake up Groot, and Bucky looks up at you and flashes a smile bright enough to light up the whole of New York.

"I guess he is kind of cute." he says looking back down at Groot’s sleeping form, leaving everyone else snickering as quietly as they can, while he imagines how it would be to be like this one day with a baby that’s his and yours, and you can’t help but think the same thing.

Part 2

[xdjville]

wayv and their own love languages

pairing: wayv x gn!reader

cw: mentions of sex in winwin's (only in words, no descriptions), yangyang (half)jokingly being a hater in xiaojun's, proof read but i'm tired

author's note: i had to physically stop myself from getting carried away with kun's so it wouldn't end up twice as long as the others man i love him

#kun

quality time

if it wasn't for kun being so busy, he would literally be glued to you at the hip. only with you around he's able to truly relax, you're like a power outlet that he can use to charge his battery. what you're doing doesn't really matter to him that much, he will enjoy anything as long as you're there, but the slow, quiet moments when you're both in your own worlds have to be the ones he cherishes the most. of course, he loves going out with you and having a blast too, but something about those occasions brings him a sense of domesticity and really lets him unwind. like when you're both in his studio - him at the desk, composing or working on lyrics, while you're on the couch in the back with your laptop, focused on your own tasks, the silence being broken only the few times that kun asks about your opinion on whatever he came up with, or when you stand up to get a drink and place a kiss on his cheek as you walk by. or it could be him cooking dinner for the two of you, showing off his skills as you sit on the counter, humming quietly to his playlist playing in the background. every now and then he'd turn around to give you a piece of the food he's making for a taste test, repaying each good idea of how to improve the dish with a kiss.

#ten

thinking about you

ten is pretty much thinking about you every second that he's awake (and sometimes in his dreams, too), he's never not thinking about you. he often gets reminded of you by random things, whether because he thinks there's a visual resemblance (he then usually sends you a photo and a "you lol"), because it's something you like, or because it's somehow connected to a shared memory of yours. he brings you up in conversations a lot too, to the point where some of his friends seem to know you quite well without having actually met you. when he's travelling, he always takes many photos to send you along with voice messages about how his day went, and buys souvenirs or little trinkets to gift you when he's back. on the rare occasion when he's grocery shopping on his own, he makes it his mission to find all of your favorite snacks, which more often than not gets him distracted from the list you had put together for him, so you end up with a bunch of candy and no dinner (which is exactly why him shopping alone is a rare occurance). he also really likes putting together playlists with songs that remind him of you, some of them he'll send and give you access to, but there's also a few he made private which he listens to on days when the longing feels worse than usual.

#winwin

"i love you"

to most, it might seem like not that big of a deal, but to winwin those three words hold more meaning than all other existing ones combined. a meaning that's so important and valuable, binding even, that he uses them carefully and scarcelly in order to not abuse them. for most of his life they were reserved only for the closest family members, then, although in a different sense, also for his fans. saying them romantically for the first time was a whole new sesantion to him, and to be honest it still feels a bit foreign and uncomfortable. not because he doesn't love you, that he sure does and he makes sure to show that in other ways, but actually saying it out loud just makes him feel so bare and out in the open. hence his "i love you"s are usually muttered into the crook of your neck when you're pressed together after making love, breathed against your lips when he breaks the kiss only for a second so you can't see his face gaining more color than it already had, or whispered into your ear as he gently strokes the back of your head, your tears soaking into his sweater.

#xiaojun

sharing

xiaojun doesn't really do this purposefully, as a way to show his affection, it's just that the concept of "mine" and "yours" genuinely doesn't exist in his mind when it comes to you. want a bite of his food? it's yours as much as it's his. out of moisturiser? you probably use the same brand anyways. really like that one hoodie of his? might as well have been yours in the first place. he never expects the same behavior in return, he's totally fine if you value your privacy and he makes sure that you understand each other's boundaries, but he never lets go of that "what's mine is yours" mindset either way. xiaojun really enjoys showing you off ("shoving your relationship into people's faces", as one german boy likes to call it), so you wearing his clothes or jewelry is his absolute favorite thing ever. he then stares at you with heart-shaped, sparkly eyes, a wide, lovesick grin on his face, and the tips of his ears burning red (to the german boy's disgust).

#hendery

being vulnerable with you

very few people get to see the other side of hendery than the cheerful, quirky self that he usually is. the side that's exhausted and afraid, that pains and ugly cries. a lot of doors have to opened to reach it, but he trusts you more than anything and anyone, ever. he doesn't think he could be any more real and unfiltered as he is with you, it's almost like it's more comfortable than when he's all alone. when you're there, he can just let everything go and express his feelings in a way that's most true to himself, without faking or conceiling anything. all those nights he spent crying because of his past, present, and future, because of his fears and scars and sorrows, you've been there for him. and although in the morning when you're tangled in your sheets with puffy faces and dry skin either of you knows better than to mention whatever was said that night, he's truly, deeply grateful, and each time he makes a promise to himself that one day he'll tell you that.

#yangyang

kissing

yangyang's nothing if not a kiss person. it's his favorite thing in the whole world, to be able to just connect your lips until he forgets his own name because yours is all he can think about. little pecks, french kisses, make out sessions, spiderman kisses - you name it, he loves all of them and they're all his favorites, as long as it's you who's on the other end. you often try to push him away because you just ate something with garlic, or because you have yet to brush your teeth in the morning, but none of that really matters to him. in fact, he cherishes every sensation that comes with it, be it a taste of what you ate, the feeling of your dry lips when you forget to put on chapstick, or a string of saliva that keeps you connected after you pull away - god, that one makes him go weak in the knees. he especially likes when you take the initiative, it makes him feel loved and all warm inside (he would never admit that though). and if you lead the kiss, maybe a bit riled up from something happening at work or because you've missed him? oh, he's a goner.

#taglist ➼♡ @bambisnc

©xdjville

[yoongsisbae]

King of Corruption | MYG

Sequel to Christmas Mass. Yoongi x reader Demon AU. Dark smut.

The organ player takes his time with you, holding you and caressing your body while you sleep, until you can’t discern your dreams from your reality. A king and a sleeping beauty, his name leaves your lips like a prayer, prostated at his feet in blind reverence…the perfect position for him to corrupt and defile you. 

I promised readers a Yoongi version if Christmas Mass hit 1,000 notes, and you did it! Round of applause for you! This story is all your fault :D. Please please please heed the warnings, this is dreadfully filthy u.u.

Trigger warnings: 18+ dark themes, horror, demons, religion, smut, boss x employee, wanna experience the trauma of having an office job? this fic is for you!, power imbalance, Yoongi is literally the worst boss ever lol, yoongi is unhinged (remember that you wanted this sequel :’)) sloth is one of the hardest sins to really articulate - I wanted it to be a bit more than just sleepy/lazy, sleeping beauty syndrome, rough sex, corruption kink, pain kink, sadism, degradation, name calling, possession, reader manipulation, mental torture/mind break, dubcon, dark ending

Word Count: 8.9k

---

It’s quiet.

Apart from the clicking, dozens of busy hands typing away, needing to meet quarterly deadlines by the end of the month, less than a week away. 

What day is it? Tuesday? Thursday? 

So quiet.

Apart from papers shuffling back and forth and dress shoes thudding on thin office carpet; employees chasing down their supervisors, the gurgling of the water cooler dispensing another cold metallic tasting cup of water.

Click click click.

It’s almost closing time. Yet, you know you’ll be here at least two more hours along with everyone else. Your fingers are cramping, your legs shake up and down as you sit idle. You’re hungry and tired and so sick of these long office hours.

Tap tap tap.

Your office cell buzzes, a message popping up: ‘Come to my office.’

You press your lips together, annoyed.

Tap tap-

Your fingers hover over your keyboard as you finish looking over your current spreadsheet, double checking that the totals match the expense reports on your desk.

Click click click.

Tap tap tap.

Buzz. ‘Now.’ 

You sigh quietly, standing up. 

Walking past rows of cubicles, you trek towards your manager’s private office, knocking softly before entering.

“Sir?”

He calls you closer with a lazy gesture, crossing his arms. He stares at you in silence for far too long, making you fidget uncomfortably on the spot. Lowering your head down you look at the objects on his desk, unable to meet his eyes.

A Newton’s cradle, at a standstill.

An ornate letter opener, shaped like a small needle dagger.

Countless papers, so scattered the desk wood is hardly seen.

“Y/n.”

“Yes, Sir?” You look up obediently.

Yoongi leans back in his office chair, eyes looking through you.

“I need these finished before you leave today.” He gestures down at the stack of reports at the corner of his desk.

Your eyes go wide, there’s at least three more hours of work piled up high. “B-But Sir-”

“Our quarterly deadline is in less than-”

“-a week,” you finish for him, dejected. “These have to be done today?” you ask, “Can’t I, um, come in early in the morning instead-”

Yoongi clears his throat and shakes his head, cracking his pointer finger with his thumb, turning the silver ring around the digit out of habit. “I needed those reports done yesterday.”

“Oh…”

You want to scream.

“...okay.”

“Okay.” He repeats impatiently. “Work on these first, I can’t finish what I have to do until I get those reports back.”

You exhale, reluctantly nodding and reaching for the extra work.

Yoongi slams his pen down, making you jump. “As soon as possible, y/n, okay? Got it?”

You nod quickly, turning on your heel, desperate to hide away from his stern gaze. Yoongi’s presence is intimidating, his curtness makes you feel like a child, dumb and incompetent. ‘Just get it done,’ you think, then you can go home, far away from this hell.

Yoongi watches your retreating figure, sighing, “How tiring…” he mumbles, a sly grin hiding behind his knuckles.

---

Your eyes sting, the blue electronic screen glow under half-dimmed office lights could seem sinister if you weren’t so focused, tiredly saving updated files to the company’s servers. Somehow you are always the last one left at your desk, a “model employee,” by administrative standards of course.

You rub your eyes. Eat, you need to eat, before you pass out.

‘Saving: 78%’ You look around, forgetting there was nobody left around for you to disturb. You look through your purse for some change to buy a snack bar from the company’s vending machine, anything to eat just so you can make it home in one piece.

Under closing lights the bright shine inside the vending machine makes the cheap snacks inside look incredibly appetizing, or perhaps it was because you skipped lunch today...

You rest your head on the glass of the vending machine, watching the agonizingly slow twirl of springs as your snack bar...gets stuck.

No. Not now!

Closing your eyes, you debate on whether to start screaming or crying.

‘Come on!’

Of course only you could be this unlucky. You try to quietly hit your fist on the glass, harder again when nothing moves. 

‘FUCK THIS FUCKING SHIT,’ you think, cursing your life.

You shift your weight between legs, thinking, itching to kick the damn thing. No, you shouldn’t make a scene. Biting your tongue, you lean your body against the side of the vending machine, using your shoulder to nudge the large appliance.

‘FUCK YOU FUCK YOU FUCK YOU FUCK YOU-’

Someone clears their throat.

You look up and stare into a pair of intense eyes, dark irises silently judging you.

It’s one of the rare times you’ve seen your boss without his coat jacket on, Yoongi’s unkept appearance surprising you. His tie is pulled down, top two buttons unfastened, the gel in the front strands of his hair has lost its hold, causing his bangs to frame his sharp cheekbones. His cheeks are flushed, a sign he has been doing more than just sitting at his desk all day, it makes you wonder what or who...

Yoongi swipes his credit card and hits the same two numbers you had chosen.

He bends down slowly, pulling two bars from the machine. Your lip trembles as you build up enough courage to speak. ‘That’s my bar.’

Just ask for it.

Just say it.

Say something!

-

“That’s mine,” you summon the courage to speak up.

Yoongi laughs softly. “Yours?” he hums.

He stares at you, and you realize he has no intention of giving you what you want.

You immediately look down out of habit. You would have let it go, scurried away before Yoongi really got annoyed at you, but you only brought enough change for one bar. “Y-Yes.”

“No.”

“It is! I paid for it, it got stuck, the stupid machine-” you trail off, realizing you were speaking your thoughts aloud.

“Nothing here is yours, y/n,” he tuts. His tone catches you off guard, and when you look up his expression is even more surprising. Yoongi is leaning against the machine, smiling at you.

A smile is usually friendly, welcoming.

Not like this.

His crescent eyes don’t twinkle, they gleam with a malice that makes your body stiffen.

He chuckles, staring at your gaping mouth. “This belongs to me. This whole company is mine,” he smiles. “And do you know what else is mine?”

“Huh?” you can only ask dumbly, frozen by his sudden icy demeanor.

You yelp when he grabs the back of your neck so swiftly you trip over yourself trying to pull free.

Yoongi forces you back against the cold vending machine glass.

He whispers his next words so softly in your ear, you wouldn't have believed he was capable of such tenderness in the midst of such aggression. “You belong to me.”

He runs his thumb harshly over your bottom lip smearing your lipstick down your chin, gripping your face in his hands so tightly it stings. You gasp out his name in surprise, jolting when he presses his knee between your legs. “You’re mine,” he whispers.

-

Your boss holds out one of the small snack bars in your direction. “Y/n?”

You shake out of your stupor, looking at Yoongi as he stares back at you blankly. “Y-Yes Sir?” you ask, realizing he was offering you the extra bar.

He stood three paces away from you, not close at all, but your body felt jittery thinking of his skin against yours, how it would feel if he pushed you against the vending machine and had his way with you.

Your thoughts horrify you. It had felt so real, you were still lingering in your own delusions. Your boss...he’s your boss. Why would you think such horrible things about your boss?!

You grab the bar away from him so quickly he stares down at his open palm.

You keep your head bowed, silencing away those horribly intrusive thoughts burning through your body like a forgotten muscle memory. Yoongi steps closer to you, eyes peering down at the bar held tightly to your chest. “I-I-”

“Y/n, go home.”

---

You put on the television.

It only takes a few minutes before your attention is on your phone instead, checking the latest trends. You scroll quickly, unfocused, so you didn’t have to think of the horribly embarrassing moments you had today.

If your thoughts become too loud, like tonight, you drown them out with music, adding another layer of noise inside your quiet home.

This has become routine.

You spend the night scrolling through images of popular celebrities, cute half naked men and women with soft features and sweet smiles so you wouldn’t think about him...

Your boss.

Min Yoongi.

Yoongi’s intimidating appearance, so unlike the warm and friendly celebrities displayed on your screens. Yoongi’s sharp angry eyes, you wonder what makes him happy. Yoongi’s deep drawling voice, that voice, what would it sound like in your ear? Oh, the way Yoongi runs his tongue over his lips when he concentrates...

You own tongue licks across your teeth thinking about it.

Your boss had a notorious reputation, there’s always been office gossip between chatty women who giggle amongst themselves when he walks by. Stories to explain why his assistants never stay for too long, and rumors of a terrible terrible temper. You’ve never seen it for yourself, but god help you, you can’t help but imagine...

Something must be under that listless facade he always exhibits for him to be so successful...

A fierceness...

You shake your head, sighing. Something is wrong with you, you think, ashamed at yourself. Stop y/n. You’re not brave enough to play with fire like that. You’re his subordinate and you’re fairly certain he finds you annoying, like a pest, and you’re definitely certain he is out of your league.

No, Mr. Min seems like the type who doesn’t bother with relationships anyways, the type to scoff at romantic gestures, probably prefers high class escorts and busy women who would leave him alone to his own devices. Your boss is not a nice man.

But there’s just something about him...that hooks you, in the lungs, in the chest, in the pit of your stomach. You’ve been wholly ensnared by him.

You pull your legs up, burying your face in your knees, hiding away. A silly gesture, you were all alone in your home after all.

You turn up the volume on your television and laughter fills your house. Rehearsed, giddy, raucous laughter. A show you’ve probably already watched before. You can barely crack a smile in response.

You eat a cold meal of leftovers, too lazy to cook for yourself, too hungry to even wait the time it takes until it heats up.

You move from the couch to the bed, and fall asleep quickly, exhausted.

---

You gasp for air, waking up.

Where had you been? Were you drowning? You catch your breath. No. Then why are you wet? Is that sweat?

It’s too dark to see. You try to move, but something heavy holds you down.

“What’s going on?” you murmur. 

Something is wrong. Very wrong.

“Go back to sleep,” a deep drawl mumbles.

You know that voice.

Who is it? His name is on the tip of your tongue.

Your limbs feel so heavy, so tired. It can’t be morning yet, it’s too dark for that.

You still have time to sleep more, go back to dreaming, enjoying that pleasant feeling again, so good you can still feel it creeping over your limbs...

...up your body...

...inside you...

It’s a nice feeling, it was a nice dream. It’s where you want to be, where you want to stay. Just until morning, just until you have to go back to reality, back to work, where everything hurts and is exhausting and unpleasant, a deadline on top of a deadline, a bunch of dead ends, finish lines with no rewards.

You rather stay in bed and sleep.

That dream, what was it about? You try to remember, get it back, so you can go back, anywhere but here.

You groan, chest heavy. Just a little bit more time is all you need. Let the sun stay away for a little longer. Let the shadows hide you away. Please.

That dream, you’re almost there, it’s coming back to you like a sweet lovely serenade, sung by lips pressed against your skin.

A rhythm begins inside you that makes your body sink deeper, two fingers pulling out the song inside you, making you ache to hear more.

A deep sigh against your thigh followed by a chuckle makes you whine in tune. You think it almost feels too good to be just in your imagination, right before you fall deeper.

---

“Am I boring you?”

A sharp kick to the back of your chair by your coworker jolts you. “S-Sir? N-No, no– No, Sir.” 

Shit, now everyone in the meeting room has their eyes on you. Your boss continues to chastise you. You shrink inward, gripping the ends of your skirt hard enough to wrinkle. 

Yoongi asks your thoughts on the presentation so far, already knowing you don’t have an answer. You stutter out the notes you’ve written down, riffling through the papers in front of you and he corrects you, flustering you even more.

You mumble out an apology. You hate being the center of attention, you wish to disappear. Taking your pen and piercing it into the soft part of your throat would be less painful than the embarrassment you’re feeling and when you hear giggles on your left part of you contemplates on actually doing it and ending it all!

God, will this reflect poorly on your performance review?!

You try not to shake as you scribble down what he’s saying, ignoring his eyes fixated right on you. ‘Why me?’ you write in the corner of your notebook, holding off tears of frustration.

Why does Mr. Min always seem to be picking on you?

-

“Everyone is dismissed,” Yoongi says after the meeting concludes. He calls out to you before you can leave, asking you to see him in his office.

You wince. Of course, you never get a break from working.

You sit on the couch by his desk, waiting. He’s making you wait on him. When you should be eating lunch with everyone else. You swallow down your growing resentment instead.

It’s bitter.

Your leg shakes in boredom, your foot tapping on Yoongi’s office carpet. Time just ticks on by, slower and slower until you can’t take it.

You feel hungry and annoyed and worst of all, you feel deep restlessness, uneasiness working up your limbs and into the pit of your stomach until you wish to scream, run, anything.

How much can you tolerate before you explode? Act out? That’s what Yoongi seems to want to find out.

Your boss walks in, shutting the door to his office behind him.

Instead of sitting at his desk, he sits next to you on his couch, limbs sprawled out as he rests.

“Why did you need– Was there something you needed to discuss with me, Sir?” you ask, trying not to sound impatient.

“Y/n…” The way he drags out your name, deepening his voice, has you holding your breath, waiting for his next words. He runs his hands through his hair, fixing the strands away from his eyes.

“How long have you worked for me?” Yoongi asks, testing you.

“I…” you pause. How long has it been? It must be years now, right? This is your first job, you can’t remember having any other. “A very long time,” you laugh awkwardly, hoping he doesn’t ask you anymore about it. “Why? Is something wrong?”

Yoongi glances at you, fingers tapping on his knee as he stretches his legs. He adjusts his hips, moving closer towards you. “No, well, I think it’s time for a promotion, don’t you?”

“Oh?” You say, surprised. You would have bet Mr. Min would have fired you before ever promoting you.

“From now on you’ll be working directly under me. This department is growing, and I need an assistance manager. You’re a hard worker, your performance accuracy are always high, and I think you’ll be a perfect fit.”

You stay quiet, only nodding in acknowledgement. The idea of seeing more of him was burdensome. But you can’t help but fixate on his compliments, Yoongi called you ‘perfect.’

“How does that sound?”

“Sounds...great.”

He crosses his arms, “Yeah?”

“Yes...”

He glances in your direction frowning, “Really? Because you look like I just told you someone died-”

“No, sir!” you recoil, “I’m sorry Sir, I’m just surprised! I thought you were mad at me,” you say softly, looking down at your knees pressed tightly together.

He reaches out to you, turning your chin to face him. “Y/n, tell me, do you like your job?”

-

You can’t exactly be honest and tell your boss how much you…

…hate it here.

“Yes, I’m very grateful for the opportunity-”

Yoongi frowns again, his touch becoming rougher. “You can tell me the truth, y/n.”

“Oh...I-l really like my job.”

He laughs.

And then, he grabs a fistful of your hair, pulling your head back over the couch cushion. It’s quick and unexpected and...just like that time before...

What’s going on?!

“Do you?” he asks, a smug smile on his face. “You like your job?” he laughs.

“Y-Yes!” you defend yourself, pulling desperately at his arm. If you told him the truth, he would fire you. Then what would you do? How will you pay your bills? If you fought back against him, who would believe you? This goddamn job was all you had.

“Oh,” He nods back, voice pitched higher and seeming to mock your own voice. “You like this?” he laughs, dragging your body down, hovering over you. 

This is Yoongi? His demeanor shifted so quickly you can barely recognize him as the same man. Your boss was reserved, almost apathetic to things. The man looking down at you seemed unhinged, animated, barely contained.

You didn’t know what this man was capable of. Tears prick at the corners of your eyes. “What do y-you want me to say?” you whimper, words barely audible.

“Still that quiet little lamb?” He holds you down so tightly your scalp burns and his other hand snakes around your throat threateningly, bending over you until your foreheads touch. “Spineless, dumb girl, this is the best you could want? Is this what you gave up everything for?” he asks, shaking your body.

You don’t understand what he’s saying or why he’s doing this, but something inside you feels ashamed at his words, like you’ve done something horribly wrong and you don’t even realize it, like a child being yelled at for going to a place they shouldn’t without an adult. You shouldn’t be here...

You want to leave!

You cry out, fighting against him. You try to scream, sound muffled by the pressure of his fingers around your neck.

Yoongi sits his full weight on top of you, his designer suit pulling at the itchy fabric of your cheap bargain clothes.

“You so desperately want to feel something, it’s all you can think about, all you can dream about. If you want to feel, I can make you feel. I can make you hurt. And I can make it feel so good. If I took away that numbness inside you, fill you up with my cock instead, wouldn’t that be nice?”

His words don’t make sense. He sounds like an echo of your thoughts being thrown back at you, like a twisted mirror showing your reflection. How could he know? 

You stop struggling, surrendering. Yoongi is too strong, too heavy, too much for you. His eyes bore into you, deep dark irises with endless depth. You can’t look away and you start to cry.

This must be what drowning feels like, pain you’re forced to confront, a miserable knowing that you steadily lower into. It’s Yoongi who reaches for you, and it didn’t matter that he was pulling you down deeper, you cling to him for salvation.

-

“Do you like your job? Y/n?”

You gasp in air, looking at Yoongi’s passive face. Your hands immediately massage your itchy throat as you look around his office, catching your breath. 

What the hell.

You feel like you’re losing your mind, grasping at something slipping between your fingers, something you can’t explain.

What the hell was that?

It had felt so real, so palpable, so shocking, like electricity through all your tired joints.

Yoongi clears his throat, tilting his head at you as you try to regain your composure.

“D-Do I like my job? I…yes, it’s fine. I’m fine,” you breathe out. You continue to look around the room and where Yoongi sits next to you. What was that?! Did you really imagine it all? 

“Really?” He crosses his arms.

You laugh nervously. “Are you supposed to like your job? Don’t they say you shouldn’t turn what you love into work, you’ll grow to hate it or something like that, I think,” you trail off, unconfident you made any sense to him. “But this is a really good position! Thank you for the, um, promotion.”

“I see...” he says. “You know, this place is not my first choice, but I can appreciate this kind of job, it molds a certain kind of person. Someone disciplined, useful. Humans are natural born workers, did you know that? The very first man and woman had jobs. When God asked Adam and Eve to tend to his Garden. Humankind was created to work, to follow.”

This conversation is so odd. “Yes...”

“So do you think you can do that for me?” he asks, clasping his hands together.

“What, Sir?”

“Follow me.”

“I...”

“You look a bit sick,” he says, touching your forehead, causing you to flinch away.

“Y-Yeah,” you mumble, looking around his office again, worried you weren’t hearing things correctly, worried you were sick in another way, maybe you should talk to someone, go to HR. “I think I, uh, maybe need to take a sick day tomorrow.”

Yoongi frowns. “Take a half day, go home for the rest of today and get better, I need you back here tomorrow,” he commands.

“Okay,” you say shakily. “Yes, Sir.”

---

“Where am I?”

It’s a familiar room you’ve only visited in your dreams. A room with no doors. A realm you know you don’t belong in, but can’t help but come back to again and again. You should be used to the fear creeping over you, but you can’t remember why.

“Stay away.” Your words echo, come out as a weak whisper. “This is a dream, just a dream,” you mutter to yourself, trying to stand, but unable to.

Yoongi walks closer to you, ignoring your pleas.

You boss? His clothes change from the familiar sleek blue suit you remembered him in into black, brown hair to stark silver, deep dark eyes becoming even darker, turning into obsidian orbs. 

You shut your eyes tightly. Your limbs feel heavy and slow, unable to move at the speed you wanted, unable to get out, unable to leave. Your body feels fractured from your mind, the physics of your dream always working against you. 

“Relax,” His deep voice sends goosebumps over your skin, the pads of his fingers dig into your sole, relaxing the muscles. You open your eyes and see Yoongi back to normal again, strong hands cradling your foot. His touch is so relaxing and pleasurable, and for a moment you forget why you’re so scared, the tension releasing from your stressed body with every deep stroke across your sole and down your calf.

“Just a dream, just a dream, just a dream.” You repeat the words like a mantra when he lets your foot drop, the familiar weight of his body back again.

“Would you like to go back already? We just started.” His skillful hands presses into your skin, up your thigh, closer and closer, kneading the muscle in tantalizing circles, replacing the tension in your body with desire. “Let go and enjoy it, y/n.”

But you can’t, you need to wake up. You shouldn’t escape into your fantasies and shut out the real world every time you become stressed. How many nights has it been? Your twisted day dreams have turned into full fledged nightmares, and now you can’t escape him, this reoccurring torturous cycle every time you close your eyes and think about Yoongi.

‘Wake up, y/n.’ Get out of your head, get out of your house! You can’t keep living like this! 

But you know, you’ll be here again, it just feels too good to stop. You don’t want to do anything but sleep and escape. It’s too easy.

And it’s too hard to resist him.

“Yoongi, fuck me. Please.”

Yoongi tuts, hand caressing down your throat and holding you there under him before he finally decides to stand.

“This time, work for it.”

He moves away and it’s cold loneliness without him on top of you, all you want to do is have him there again.

You feel the sudden energy return back to you at his command now that he wasn’t tangled over you. Your growing desire to have him back propels you.

You move yourself in front of him, getting on your knees. Assuming this is what he meant, you begin to unbuckle his belt.

He watches you, looking down at you dutifully fulfilling his orders. The perfect worker you are. Yoongi could get used to this kind of enthusiasm, even if he prefers you docile and completely pliable to his whims.

As you slowly pull out his length from his pants, you look up to make sure he is pleased. You let your lips stretch around him, taking him in your mouth as far as your throat allows.

“Good girl,” he sighs, “So sweet.”

He holds the back of your head, leading you to take him fully until you choke on his cock. Then he steps back, dragging your body forward by the hair, that way he keeps you connected to him, adjoined to him in the most sinful way.

You clumsily crawl forward, following his lead, knees hitting hard floor, a pain that reminds you just how much power he has over you.

Yoongi takes a seat, spreading his legs to make a place for you to kneel between them. He sighs in pleasure. In your dreams, you boss always seems much more at peace, putting pleasure first, and everything else melts away. Your worries, your responsibilities, your duty is only to him, it makes him happy.

You move your mouth, sucking him down over and over again until your jaw aches, until sweat drips down your forehead and your wrists and knees hurt and you’re messy and dripping for him. He helps guide you as you tire, hands still tangled in your hair.

He’s close, you can tell by the swell of his cock, the loud groans that escape his lips.

You taste his release, salty and thick. Your own is still so far away, you whimper around his still hard cock. Yoongi feels your quiver against him, and he gives you an unexpected mercy. He releases his hold on you, leaning back. “Get up and ride me now.”

You nod quickly, standing up. Yoongi lets you straddle him, awe over his muscular body. You don’t waste any time dropping down on his cock.

He watches you rut your hips side to side, up and down on his hard length, your hips moving fluidly against his own, chasing your pleasure. You reach for his hands and he lets you place his large palms over your breasts, watching as you mewl when he kneads and pulls on them. You place a hand across your collar bone and he takes the invitation to rest it higher, fingers squeezing around your throat, taking your air for his.

Oh, you’re good at this. And all Yoongi has to do is sit back and relax, let you take him, his own cocksleeve. A perfect disciple, willing to learn exactly what pleases him.

You close your eyes and listen to his low whisper, moans of encouragement. “You’re so close, don’t give up on me now, fuck yourself on my cock. That’s my girl. Keep going, come for your master.”

You tremble and whimper out his name like a prayer you’ve wished for over and over.

---

You wake up abruptly, falling off your couch, still in your work clothes from the day before.

You can’t believe you slept the whole day away. Maybe you really were sick. Your muscles ache, your head is spinning and you can’t stop thinking...

...about what it would really feel like...

...to have Yoongi’s hands hold down your body.

You clutch your head. ‘It wasn’t real.’

Your alarm hasn’t gone off, the sun is only just rising, you still have time to shower and get ready for work, but all you want to do is take away the frustratingly clawing ache inside of you, a desperate need you’re too embarrassed to acknowledge.

So you run a cold shower before breakfast instead.

You heave out a long drawn out sigh, letting the cool water hit your back, washing away your shamefulness.

You rest your head on cold tile. ‘Don’t think about him.’

No, don’t think about his rough hands on your delicate neck, his crotch pressed over your stomach, or the feeling of his cock getting harder against you.

Fuck, you want to fuck him.

You try to calm your breathing, tilting your head into the water. What are you doing? Your boss wouldn’t do that! He…

You touch your bottom lip…He could, if he wanted to.

Did you want him to?

The answer frightens you. No no, your morbid curiosity was nothing more than just that. You just wanted to feel fire, but you didn’t want to get burned.

So, like always, you resign yourself to this small depraved little fantasy. Behind shower curtains, hiding in the low light of your bath.

You trail your fingers down between your legs, working yourself up before you could think of talking yourself out of it.

It wasn’t really about him right now anyways. You just needed to release. You were so wound up and desperate, right?

You shudder a yes, pressing your fingers deeper into your sex.

You flinch as your back bumps into warmth. ‘This is not real.’

Smooth, wet skin, pressing back against you, fingers gripping your wrist so you don’t stop.

You feel yourself unraveling as lips run along your shoulder, the same lips you couldn’t stop thinking about. You close your eyes, whimpering, scared to look behind you and either confirm your delusions or become utterly lost in them. 

You pull your fingers out, circling your clit, thinking of how good it feels to have Yoongi pressed against your back, his cock up between your legs.

The way he would be so merciless when he pushes his cock inside you, pulling your leg up higher to angle himself deeper.

You moan, feeling so full it makes your head spin.

The way his fingers would explore your body, gripping you like he owns you, pinching your nipples, pulling at your hips, pressing down on your tongue.

This fantasy feels so real, all that’s missing is…

“Can’t help yourself, greedy slut, can you? You ever wonder why that is, y/n?”

You cry out, focusing on the piercing drag of his cock against your walls. “Aw does it hurt? I told you, I would hurt you.”

He slams into you over again, water splashing with every impact against your ass. You struggle to stay standing, clinging to tile. “You’ll take it, though, like a good obedient whore.”

He pulls out, turning you around.

It shocks you how real this fantasy of yours looks. It’s dangerous how effective your thoughts work to rile you up, he’s dangerous.

“Lusting after monsters, you haven’t changed one bit, y/n.”

“I want to stop it,” you admit, shaking against him out of fear and pleasure. “I don’t know how,” you whimper, knowing you can only ever really have him like this, a twisted version of your boss you made up for yourself. It’s shameful and sickening.

“Because you’re mine. Look at you,” he tuts, “Your soul weeps for me,” he presses his fingers inside your dripping cunt, “But I want more than that, you understand?”

“What?” you stutter out.

He kisses you roughly, swallowing your whines. You close your eyes, lost to pleasure as his tongue rolls over your neck, sucking. You can’t stop yourself from wrapping your arms around him, fingers tangling in his wet hair, succumbing to your delusion.

“Devotion. Your sweet devotion, give me your that, and you won’t need to do anything else ever again.”

---

Tap tap tap.

Click Click Click.

What?

What?

Wait. Wait.

You stand up suddenly, startling those working around you. You look around, scanning the familiar setting over and over again.

Afraid you’ll start a scene you turn your heel and walk quickly to the bathroom.

Only when you’re alone and have caught your breath do you go to the mirror and stare at your reflection.

Your hair is still damp, the collar of your work shirt is wet, fading water droplets across your jacket and skirt.

And your panties feel wet, sticking to your core.

Shit, you think, noticing your smudged makeup. How long have you looked like this? You grab paper towels quickly, rubbing away the lipstick smudged under your lip, trying to gather your thoughts together.

What was happening to you? Why can’t you remember how you got here?

You massage your temples, feeling dizzy. There has to be an explanation, you just have to look for it.

But...

...unfortunately, right now you have work to do.

-

You sit at your desk, chewing on crackers, contemplating the idea that you might be going completely insane.

Your cell buzzes. ‘Sixth floor meeting room. Now.’

It’s your boss of course. You can’t face him right now. You turn off your cell, nibbling on your nails in your anxiousness.

This isn’t normal, something is very wrong with you. You end up back in the bathroom, trying to retrace your steps, figuring out the minutes that were escaping you. You turn on the faucet, wetting a towel, running the wet paper across your forehead to calm yourself.

You catch your reflection again, except this time, there are two.

Another person, behind you, staring back.

An image of a devil.

A beautiful devil.

Smiling wickedly behind you, an image of a man so haunting you forget how to breathe.

You scream.

Before you can turn around and confront your worst nightmares the bathroom door bursts open, familiar hands wrapping around your wrists and pulling you away.

Yoongi is pissed.

You can tell as he drags you along, not stopping until you are back in his office.

His nails dig into your elbow, pulling you possessively closer to him. “Missing him?!”

You shake your head frantically. Miss who? Not...

Whoever that was...no, you didn’t want to think about it anymore!

You whimper, feeling weak and dizzy.

“Oh poor little y/n,” Yoongi tuts, “you just need some more rest.”

---

“What do you think you’re doing, my friend?” Jimin asks. “You’re not usually this persistent.”

Yoongi yawns, undoing his tie. “I want her longer.”

Jimin laughs, so loud it would have surely woken you up if it weren’t for Yoongi’s effect on your body. “Fine.”

He watches your brow furrow, “I do enjoy watching the fight in her return,” Jimin laughs.

For all the passion Jimin possessed, Jimin was a heartless demon.

Jimin had thoroughly broken you, taken from you until you had nothing left to give and became a boredom to him. 

So it was Yoongi’s turn. 

“This is a nice little world,” Jimin looks around, flicking the metal name plate in the center of Yoongi’s desk.

“We’re currently not hiring.”

“Oh, don’t be like that!” Jimin whines.

“You can have her back when I’m done.”

Jimin bites his lip in thought. “You’re not lying to me, are you, dear friend?” he asks. “You remember she called out to me first. I can, hmmm, satisfy her the best.”

Jimin’s fingers trail the curves of your body, and even in your slumber your body responds to his touch, writhing in the other demon’s lap. Yoongi holds you loosely, caressing your cheek as you whine softly. Jimin moans at the sight.

Yoongi laughs, “Concerned for her satisfaction, are you?”

Jimin holds up his palms in mock defeat, smirking. “Okay. Then, let me watch.”

---

A soft touch, wet and warm.

You’re too tired to open your eyes, not yet fully awake. Your limbs laid sprawled out, sinking into the thick covers under you, body too sluggish to move. You don’t want to wake up just yet, it feels too good. It feels real good.

You breathe in, turning your head into your pillow, leaning into the softness against your cheek, the warmth rolling over your stomach, the weight on your pelvis. It makes you gasp softly.

Yoongi smiles against your skin, mouth opening to taste you again.

Your body rocks against the soft sheets. You wish to moan, but you can’t. You wish to press your sex closer to the delicious sensation between your legs, but you can’t. If only you could wrap your legs around it, beg for more. But you can only lie sedated in your pleasure, getting wetter and wetter.

---

You wake up restless in your bed, needing to pee. Stumbling through your pitch black room, you search for the light switch, your drowsiness slipping quickly away and being replaced by an anxiousness when you can’t find it.

The darkness frightens you. But even scarier, what could be hiding, terrifies you.

Click.

You decide to keep the lights on when you return. 

You lie in bed thinking about him. Min Yoongi, when did he become such an obsession for you?

Maybe you need to find yourself a boyfriend, try dating, you stay home too much. You sigh, realizing how you have spent every other night in bed...fantasizing...instead. You’ve always been alone, but you’re starting to notice the loneliness, and it’s becoming suffocating. You need to go out, appreciate the couple hours of free time in the evening you had after working all day and afternoon. You’re coming to a realization your freedom shouldn't feel so...confining. The four walls of your room feel so close now. When did you become so lazy, so closed off and boring?

The sad realization leaves you even more unwilling to take the risk. Honestly, you should be grateful you have a roof over your head and a meal in your stomach and the luxury of being able to relax at home.

What about your dreams, ambitions?

Shh, you silence that annoying voice inside you. Those aren’t affordable! And take so much more energy than you have right now. But a nicer steak the next time you go shopping, a small joy, could still be an option.

Tomorrow, you’ll buy it tomorrow.

Tomorrow. Tomorrow. Tomorrow.

Tonight, you’ll take your mind off your troubles.

So you go back to your increasing obsession with your boss.

You breathe in, thinking of the cologne you smelled on him today. Those eyes that narrow when you do something wrong, so sexy, it almost makes you want to make him angry.

You wonder what goes on in his mind when he gets annoyed at you. If he wants to punish you, if he could get away with anything, what kind of punishment would it be? another voice inside you asks.

Bending you over his desk?

Maybe.

Would he find serenity in slaps across your ass? A belt welting your cheeks.

Your previously relaxed limbs seize.

Fuck, it hurts. It hurts so much. There is cold wood against your front and stinging down your back. You can’t help but cry out, leather digging into your wrists. 

What?

How?

“Shhhhh. Keep dreaming.”

The leather bands around your wrists hurt. You’re dreaming? Really? But this is too real.

But how else could you explain this situation? Your legs spread open, Yoongi standing in between them as he admires your aching backside.

He runs his fingers over the welts across your ass, making you hiss in pain.

“Let’s keep going, shall we?”

You stay quiet, unable to move, crying out when sharp pain comes back down across your ass.

“Oh, now don’t go regretting this now. You wanted this remember?”

Another slap makes you scream out in pain. You want to wake up now. ‘Wake up!’

“You chose this. You gave away your freedom just like that, dumb girl.”

Another hard smack with his belt has you reeling, legs tightening around Yoongi’s torso as you twist your body in agony. You sob, unable to handle anymore pain.

So Yoongi forces pleasure on you instead with two fingers inserted into your pussy, massaging the throbbing pain away. He slips in and out easily, the wetness that gushed out of you was a shameful reminder that you had been a willing captive. You moan weakly, body tired.

He easily builds up your orgasm, practiced fingers curling into your sex, stroking you inside and out until you’re close to bursting.

Yoongi stops, taking the moment to strike your ass with his messy palm. You shiver and cry out. “P-Please,” you stutter, pulling at your restraints.

Yoongi resumes his ministrations, “Please...Sir,” he reminds you.

“Please, Sir, let me come,” you gasp.

Yoongi turns you around, lifting your restrained hands over your head. He moves so fast you yelp at the sudden movement, only realizing after he lets go that the loud thud you heard was his letter opener sticking into wood and restraining you to his desk.

Your breathe becomes ragged as you lie tied down, body exposed to him. His thumb swipes over your clit, making you cry out his name. He sits, rubbing lazy circles into you, watching your body uncontrollably react. The buildup is achingly slow, steady, reliable, you know your orgasm is approaching and you are ever so close to release, yet Yoongi draws it out, until you feel the pressure in your ears, in you throat, in your feet, in your chest.

If this was another fantasy, it was the best one yet. Yoongi had fire in his eyes, electric movement, a demanding touch. You cum hard, crying out.

It wasn’t over even after your orgasm finished, Yoongi moves in closer, lips kissing your inner thigh. “Stay still, relax,” he smirks when your breath hitches.

You lose your breath all over again when his face rests in between your legs, burying his mouth into your sex. His tongue rolls over your folds, sucks on your abused nub. You clench your jaw and accept his pleasure. Your body pulses over and over again as Yoongi eats you out, your legs and hands going numb, but like Yoongi promised, you felt everything he was giving you, until exhaustion overcame you.

-

You wake up, still wet. You try not to feel ashamed, but your shame sticks to your core, underwear drenched and stretched as you slept.

Maybe it’s time to look for another job.

-

“Here’s your reports. And the notes for your next presentation. And-” you hand Yoongi a warm cup of coffee, “-for you. Black, half sugar.”

“Thank you, y/n,” Yoongi grunts, sipping the coffee. 

“Thank you, Sir,” you smile, beaming.

Yoongi smiles too. It’s slight, barely there, but you notice the small curl of his lips. “You did well,” he reaches for your waist, pulling you close. “My best girl.” 

You smile. “I-” you falter, “Have I…have we always been like this?” you think out loud.

“Does it matter? Doesn’t this feel right?” His hand caresses this inside of your thigh, disappearing under your skirt.

“S-Sir?!”

“Isn’t it nice working for me, why would you want to leave?”

You swallow, trying to sort out your surroundings, the happiness inside you shrinking away.

“Has that always been there?” you ask.

Yoongi glances at the corner of his office, pressing his fingers against your panties, rubbing on your clit through the sheer fabric. 

You stare at the relic that didn’t belong there, a golden piano. No, that wasn’t quite right, it was an organ.

Yoongi pulls your gaze back to him, caressing your check. “That poor little mind of yours...” he sighs, tutting. “Why don’t you forget about that and just enjoy yourself? You’re finally starting to be useful to me.” 

You can’t help but look for the organ from the corner of your eyes, a cold dripping feeling running down your spine.

Yoongi pulls you into his lap until you’re straddling him, your tight skirt digging into your thighs as you have to widen your legs around him. His mouth latches onto your neck to distract you, licking your clammy skin, sending shivers down you again.

His fingers curl inside your panties, moving the fabric to the side, so he can insert his digits fully. You hold his shoulders for stability, biting down moans.

“This is another dream.”

“Oh have you been dreaming about me?” he smirks.

“No!” you pant, “Yes...I’m dreaming.” His steady pressure moving inside you makes you dizzy, your jaw going slack as you lean into him. You can’t help but widen your legs, giving in to him in your lust. Yoongi takes the opportunity to kiss you, devouring your lips.

A knock on Yoongi’s office door stops his movements.

You stand up quickly, straightening your clothes, looking over at the corner where you could have sworn you had seen the large organ instrument.

“These came in for you, Sir.” A receptionist drops off three packages for him, excusing herself quietly before looking you over, her eyes narrowing at your appearance.

“You can leave now,” he says curtly and she huffs before leaving. He then turns back to you, swiping his fingers across his lips, tongue jutting out to roll over his wet glistening digits.

You pat down your skirt, legs wobbling. This wasn’t a dream?

“Come here.”

“Sir?” You look at the door, closed again, but unlocked.

“Come here, y/n.”

You take one hesitant step closer. Was this really happening? “W-We can’t,” you stutter out. “You can’t-”

“I can do whatever I want,” Yoongi laughs, “I’m the boss, remember? Now, come here.” He moves his chair further away, turning to fully face you, legs spread, a position you’ve only dreamed about.

You wipe the perspiration away from your brow and neck, looking down at his black Oxfords, until you’re finally courageous enough to look Yoongi in the eye, and what a mistake that was.

His eyes held a challenge that you couldn’t back away from. Yoongi was unbuckling his belt, undoing the button of his slacks.

He didn’t say come here this time, his pointer finger only had to draw one small movement to coax you to him.

He pulls you back to his lap easily, lets you clumsily touch him. This was really happening, and your boss seemed to be enjoying himself, acting so much nicer.

The smile he revealed, you believed to show kindness.

You smiled foolishly back, and he patted you head.

You hesitantly moved in for a kiss, pressing your lips softly to him, heart leaping when he opened his mouth for more, tasting his tongue.

The door opens again and you freeze, mortified at your predicament.

“I thought I told you to stay away.”

“You did, but look at her, she’s dripping with lust.”

With your back to the door, you can't see who is behind you, but his smooth sultry voice makes you shudder.

His words feels like daggers, each syllable chiseling away at you, fracturing what was left that held you together, revealing the truth underneath. It hit you like a splash of cold water, like waking up from a dream.

You look down at your hands, grasping tightly onto Yoongi’s shirt. “Father Park?”

“Hmm, not here,” he laughs, hands in his pockets, “Here you can call me Daddy,” he cocks his head, smiling.

Yoongi caresses your check, holding your jaw up when your head lulls to the side. You hear clicking, a belt buckle unfastening.

---

You wake up again in darkness.

That darkness never really left you, did it?

“Why are you doing this to me?” you call out.

The organ player reveals himself. He must have always been there too. “Because this is what you wanted,” he crawls over you, like he’s done countless times before, “what you begged for, prayed for, gave up everything for.”

“No, I didn’t want this,” you stutter out. Who was that woman you became? You barely recognized yourself in her...

Yet there were similarities, you suppose. If you had to recite a list of all your sins, you suppose your lists would look identical. If you had that kind of life, you suppose the path she took would have your footprints as well...

“Am I dead?” you look at your surroundings, soft sheets under you, fabric cascading over your body.

“Dead? No.” Yoongi chuckles. “You exist, y/n. Well, for us, death is just another existence.” Yoongi lies down next to you, arm over your stomach. You should push him away from you, but it’s cold and Yoongi is warmth, a fire lighting up the darkness.

“So I am dead...” you whisper.

“Is that what you’re worried about?” Yoongi laughs. Humans can be quite amusing, he thinks. “What if I told you, you’re very much alive. See, the living realm is so much more fun, why would we keep you dead?”

“This place...”

“Welcome home,” Yoongi sighs, head snuggled to your shoulder.

“Is this hell?” you whisper, head heavy and limbs slow.

“No, not yet,” Yoongi smirks, “It’s just a dream. A place we can be alone together.”

“What is Jimin doing to my body?” you ask. You heart pounds, making you dizzy and anxious for the answer.

“Your body? Humans really are funny creatures...What is a body but a vessel to hold what’s really important, your soul, and who owns your soul, y/n?” he asks you. You stay quiet, resisting the answer, the consequence you’ll never escape from. “I will tell you something,” he whispers in your ear, “Your soul is here, with me. I hold it for the time being.” He places his hand over your heart, cupping your breast. “Feels just like it would in the physical world, doesn’t it?” he massages and tugs at the flesh. “Maybe it’s better, if you stay here with me?”

“Stay here, with you?” you repeat, trying to think of anything other than Yoongi’s slow torturous touch. You realize his touch feels familiar, skilled fingers like an old lover’s. You’ve betrayed yourself, over and over again.

You wonder if this is what you’ve become now, traitorous, self-gratifying, weak...did Father Park do this to you? Yoongi? Or was this...ache...void inside you always there, begging to be filled, to be touched?

And Yoongi was so excellent at making you feel whole, feel full of him and nothing else. He hugged you secure like a blanket, hands claiming you, soft and slow, with all the time in the world to make you his.

“If you decide you’d rather, let me have you, instead. Jimin is a master of desire. But we all are very adept at pleasure,” Yoongi smirks. “We can stay here for as long as you like. Your bones can turn to dust, but with me, here, your soul will remain. And you’ll be my Queen.” He kisses you, a slow drag of his lips pressing heavily onto yours making you feel even weaker.

The cascading fabric became tight around you, gold rings fastening it all in place to become a beautiful gown. You noticed Yoongi too wore gold, adorned on a black suit of armor fit for a King.

“Isn’t this what you dream of always?” he asks, a small smile pulling at his lips that made him look unthreatening. You knew better, but those tiny truths were being quieted by your King, who played his role so well, stuck his tongue inside your mouth and muted any lingering objections.

He places his hands on top of yours, stretching your arms upward, holding you in place, tongue taking away your voice. He lies his weight on top of you, kissing too sweetly the stretch of your neck, head nestled in the valley between your breasts, body sinking between your legs, mounting pleasure taking all your doubts away. “You don’t have to worry anymore,” Yoongi lies, “Give up. Give in.”

You try to keep your eyes open.

Yet your eyes flutter shut.

---

“Y/n.”

“Huh?” You turn your head in question.

Yoongi clears his throat, “As I was saying, due to the merger everyone is going to have to buckle down. We have to implement all new procedures, switch operating systems, upgrade the database... Are you listening!”

“Yes? Yes! Yes, Sir.” You sit up straighter, focusing on your boss.

“Expect to be here extra days, at least until everything settles in place.”

“Yes, Sir,” you nod, unsuccessfully trying not to frown.

“Also, since you will be managing twice as many people,” you wince at the thought, “You will have an assistant.”

On cue, there is a knock on Yoongi’s door.

“Hello,” you nod, standing up, forgetting you still had your binder in your lap, and papers scatter all over the floor. Yoongi curses as you quickly pick up your mess.

Your new assistant hands you the last stack of your remaining papers. You thank him, flustered at his kind gesture, your face heating up when you accidently bump his finger with your own.

“Hello,” he grins.

Yoongi lifts you up by the elbow, catching you off guard as you struggle to reorient yourself. “Nice to meet you, um...”

“Park Jimin.” Jimin licks his lips, beaming with excitement. “Hey, boss.”

You watch as the pair clasp hands, exchanging greetings. And a small part of you wonders, how it would feel

if their hands

were touching you instead.

---

So did you catch that y/n was actually reborn, did I fool you? But alas her soul is still theirs u.u

If this reaches 1k then I guess I will write a Mr. Kim version with the Kim trio, cause I’m not making myself suffer like this again for nothing lol :’D

[nicromancytarot]

REGARDING THE “SCAM”

I’m not a confrontational person, and putting people of blast terrifies me lol. However a month after making this account someone (@/yzodkx) messaged me on the 10th of March asking me for an exchange. They don’t own a tarot account, they don’t even post on their blog, this was just someone who I assume was reaching out to tarot readers and asking for an exchange reading. This was my first exchange.

I gave them their reading first, it was quite short but helpful nonetheless, they gave me mine and all was well! I even started following this person back (although I only followed tarot readers) since I felt appreciative of receiving the reading.

After giving them the reading, they asked for a clarifying question which led to me giving them an entirely new reading as this wasn’t a yes or no, this was an in depth how someone’s intentions, which I couldn’t only gather the answer by pulling one simple card.

Two days later they asked me for another exchange which I was quick to agree to, I asked about my career and they asked about their future spouse, I received my reading first, thanked them and then gave them an a very in-depth reading about everything I could pick up for their future spouse (appearance, career, personality etc) after this, they did not thank me or say anything further about the reading. I asked if they would mind giving me a reading on my future spouse whenever they are free as they had already received three readings from me, and they had given me two in return.

(I blocked out the initials for privacy reasons!)

They agreed, then proceeded to ask if their future spouse was (insert initials) I gave them an answer, then they asked another question and I answered it.

I did not ask them 3 questions in return as I didn’t want to bother them since I already asked for the future spouse reading and didn’t want them to have too many questions to answer from me.

I have been ghosted by them for the past near month now, they didn’t reply to my answer when I gave it, but have been active, since as around two weeks after airing me, they changed their profile picture.

I do not care to argue with anyone, this is not me being petty, I have literally left it an entire month until now being told to talk about it by my friends lmao. The only reason I am putting this up is so other tarot readers who may get messages for an exchange from this person, will know what to be careful of. (I really wanted that future spouse reading too smh)

I don’t know if I’m just being dramatic lol, perhaps my crazy amount of words on their reading scared them, I have no idea. But I do not appreciate being made a fool, especially since I literally followed them and trusted them #rip

If I am being dramatic and making something out of nothing, I’ll take it down, just let me know!

Do not take advantage of smaller tarot reader accounts please and thank you!! We put a lot of time and effort into this stuff dawg.

[shytastemakerthing]

heyo!

Do you think you could write a oneshot of the riddle x reader. Reader and riddle are in a relationship.

The reader is jealous because she feels riddle is paying more attention to some one else so she boldly and confidently walks up to him, grabs his face, and kisses him, not even slightly embarrassed. And then of course, drama ensues lol.

Have a wonderful day!

Hello and thank you so much for your request! I am so sorry with how late this is, but I do hope that you enjoy this! Have a great night!

Tw: None

Prompt: Riddle Rosehearts with a jealous s/o

You really didn't understand just as to why you were so jealous, seriously, you didn't

Riddle was a housewarden, it was only natural that he would have to spend some time with the students of his dorm to ensure that they were performing at their best

He may have been more lenient with the rules ever since his overblot but that was still no reason to be slacking off

This was something that you understood when you began dating, or as he liked to call it, courting, him.

But it was starting to happen more and more frequently

As in, hours a day with one student after another, whether it be for tutoring, reprimands over more strict rules that actually did make sense, or even just planning for all the unbirthday parties that the dorm happens to hold

After that, he was just busy with his own studies, housewarden meetings, the duties he held as said housewarden

Needless to say, the longer you had to spend away from him , the more he had to be around other students merely to help will certainly begin to bring out the jealousy in you

..............BAD

Honestly, it felt childish. He was going to be busy but you just couldn't help it

At this point, it had been five days since you last actually saw him, three days since he last managed to respond to any message you sent him (you didn't flood his phone with messages, just a few here and there to not be too bothersome), but even then, it was just a simple and curt message then it was radio silence for hours or days on end.

You had enough at this point

Thankfully, Trey and Cater were able to point you in the direction that they last saw Riddle in, in the Heartslabyul lounge

And just as they said, there he was

......... Tutoring yet another student

And if you were being honest, they looked a little too close for comfort. The other student, not Riddle. Riddle was a sweetheart who was very strict when it came to his relationship with you. No funny business with anyone else. He was yours and you were his

But the coil finally snapped

Without so much as a word, you marched yourself right on over

Riddle had barely managed to register your presence was just about to question you if everything was okay or if you needed anything when you quite literally yanked him up by the lapels of his school jacket and slammed your lips to his, stunning the poor redhead silent, his face matching his hair

Whether by rage or embarrassment, we have yet to find out

In his mind, you had certainly lost yours (man wasn't the biggest on PDA like this)

In yours, you were marking what was yours and making that well known to any other student

At this rate, you have had enough with the fleeting sight of red hair past the corner, either off to help another student within his dorm or too busy attending his housewarden duties. A full week had gone by since the last time you were able to see him, to just sit down and study with one another or have lunch or tea. Not even a response in your messages, the last one being three days ago, and it was just a response to you telling him to have a good night.

Needless to say, you were absolutely over not being able to see him, and when you did, being with someone else who needed his help. You weren't even sure if the other house wardens were needed by their own students this much. Well, there were a few you could count out of that list.

But today? Today is where it all ended.

Trey had been in the Heartslabyul kitchens preparing for the next Unbirthday party that was to take place the following day, Cater with him, mostly to take pictures of what Trey was baking, looking for that #totallymagicamable dish...... Cater's words not yours and seeing you? Well, they knew just why you were here.

"If you're looking for Riddle, I saw him heading to the lounge with another student fifteen minutes ago."

Trey, the ever present seven sent, was the one to inform you of where your boyfriend had been. SO that is exactly where you went.

Making it to the lounge, you saw him sitting on one of the longer sofa's with one of his students that you didn't quite recognize, but what you did know, was that they looked a little too cozy, seeming scooting slightly closer to Riddle with each passing moment, looking like they were trying to be rather subtle about this.

Even if Riddle didn't notice, you certainly did.

Marching your way right to the sofa, the clicking of your shoes was enough to alert Riddle that someone else was approaching, and the moment your gaze met, before he could question you, your hands grasped his jacket lapels rather roughly, wrinkling the fabric with the sheer force of your grip, effectively lifting him from the sofa with whatever strength you possessed that he certainly was not aware of until now.

You were certainly delighted by the small squeak that he let out the moment you slammed your lips onto his, tasting the strawberry of the chapstick that you had given to him, hearing his breathing picking up just a bit, hands fumbling, trying to find out where to hold you, before the moment ended.

His face was as red as his hair, fumbling over his words, and eyes blown wide. The student who was with him looked just as stunned if not slightly uncomfortable as well. Good, serves them right for trying to move in on who was rightfully claimed.

"As soon as you are finished here, you better meet me at my dorm or so help me, I will find you again and drag you there myself."

Tutoring ended early that day.......

Thank you so much for your request!!

[watchmegetobsessed]

SNACKS AND SEX

A/N: a little something, because i thought i would be done with the single dadrry fic by now... but im not so i just wrote this quickly bc i felt bad hahahah

WORD COUNT: 1.4k

WARNING: a bit of body issues

SUMMARY: You're three months pregnant, but the world doesn't know. Seeing some pictures of yourself online really get to you.

MASTERLIST | SUPPORT ME!

Social media has been a weird hole in your life ever since you started dating Harry. You weren’t an obsessive user before, but you spent your fair share of time scrolling on Twitter and Instagram, checking out funny posts.

But then they were about you.

Five years into dating Harry, one year of that spent as husband and wife, you still can’t stop yourself from wandering online and hurting yourself by seeing something mean about a photo or a nasty gossip. You promised yourself a million times before that you wouldn’t even check what complete strangers have to say about you, but it’s hard to keep away from the internet.

It’s a random Thursday evening when you break your promise again and it brings you to tears. Harry is out to get your Sour Patch Kids, because that was your pregnancy craving of the day and you tried to ignore it, but then ended up asking Harry to run to the store and get them for you without a word or complain. He’s been your hero not just since you’ve found out you’re pregnant three months ago, but probably since you met him.

So while you’re waiting for him, you’re munching on some chips, scrolling on Twitter aimlessly.

And then you find a thread about yourself.

Two days ago you went for a walk around the neighborhood, the weather was nice, you felt like you needed to get out of the house so you and Harry walked to your favorite bakery, got some donuts and took a stroll. Paparazzi keep away from the neighborhood where you live, Harry has had a long but successful fight with them in the past so now they keep their distance, so you weren’t worried about getting papped. But you can’t have normal people away every time you’re out on the streets. He has fans everywhere and love taking pictures of him doing literally anything, whether it’s just crossing the street, being on a run or walking around with her pregnant wife eating donuts.

Well, people don’t know you’re pregnant and hopefully they won’t find out for months.

You kind of saw a few girls get worked up when they spotted the two of you, but you were hoping they would be respectful and not take pictures. You were wrong. And now you’re met with a series of photos of you, your face stuffed with donuts like you never ate any before. They caught you in a bad moment, for sure. You haven’t washed your hair in days, you were wearing baggy clothes because one, they hide your growing belly amazingly and two, those are what you feel the most comfortable in. Your body is going through some major changes, comfort is your number one priority these days.

But now you’re watching people tear you apart for looking so slobby and practically just the shadow of yourself compared to what you used to look like five years ago.

She definitely shouldn’t be eating donuts, lol.

Wow, she put on so much weight!

Harry is just getting hotter, while she is turning into… that.

She is twice the size like she was at the Grammy’s omg!

You just can’t stop reading the nasty messages, they seem to be endless, about your look, your clothes and mostly about the size of your body. You immediately stop eating the chips and toss the pack away as you keep scrolling.

Tears start dwelling in your eyes, feeling like all these comments are being thrown at you relentlessly. There’s no doubt you’ve gained weight, pregnancy has been crazy for you, you’ve been constantly hungry, always eating something because whenever you tried to keep yourself out of the kitchen, your body definitely started rioting against you until you gave it what you wanted. So you’ve been putting on extra weight these past months, but you didn’t think much of it until now.

“Fuck,” you mumble, tears rolling down your cheeks as you lock the phone and toss it to the side, staring ahead of you, the comments playing in your mind on repeat.

It gets you so worked up that you don’t even notice when Harry returns.

“Love? I got everything you’ve been craving!” he sings as he walks down the hallway, smiling to himself thinking about all the treats in his tote bag.

You jump at his voice and try to hide your state, but a moment later he walks in and sees you sitting at the dining table, crying.

“Hey, what happened?” he asks, dropping the bag and rushing over to you, kneeling in front of you. “What happened? Talk to me, baby!”

“Nothing,” you breathe out shakily, but even the blind could see that you’re crying. “But… I don’t want the snacks anymore.”

“What? You’ve been craving them all day, I got all your favorites!”

“I don’t…” you shake your head and even though you’re fighting hard to stop crying, it just gets worse.

“Y/N, don’t tell me nothing happened, something clearly upset you! Please, I want to help!” he begs, feeling helpless seeing you like this.

Instead of answering, you just grab your phone, unlock it and hand it over to him and wait as he reads over some of the mean tweets.

“Baby…” he exhales, putting the phone to the side as he pulls out the chair next to yours and sits beside you, his hands never letting go of yours in your lap. “These idiots don’t matter, they have no idea that you’re pregnant!”

“I’m pregnant, yeah, but I also gained a lot of weight and I’m only entering the second trimester! I look horrible!”

“No, you don’t, you look amazing!”

“Don’t bullshit me, I look like shit on those pictures and I have a feeling I look the same now as well!” you snap at him. Your hormones have been all over the place so you’ve been overreacting a lot lately, but you just can’t help it.

“But that’s not what I see. I see my beautiful wife enjoying some great donuts she deserved because she is growing our baby in her belly. Did you put on some weight? Yes, but that’s nothing to be ashamed of. I loved you before pregnancy, I love you now and I will love you forever.”

“How do you not think I look hideous?” you moan, still not convinced.

“Because I’m in love with you and all I care about is that you’re nourished, loved and cared for so you can care for our baby in there,” he says, placing a hand to your growing belly. “People will always have something to say about us, that doesn’t mean it’s true. I was there with you on our walk, I saw you eat those donuts and wanna know what I thought?”

“What?” you ask in a whisper.

“I was so happy that I saw you eat them with those pleased hums, I loved knowing that you have what you want and need. That’s all that mattered to me.”

Harry can tell you’re still not entirely on the same page as him and he is determined to get your mind to the right place.

“You’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen, Y/N. And you’re going through some extreme changes so we can grow our family. Be nice to your body, because it’s gifting us with a baby. I promise you that even on your worst day, when you feel like you don’t want anyone to look at you, I would still think the same thing about you.”

“Are you sure?” you ask as he wipes your tears off of your cheeks.

“I can’t be more sure, I promise. Now why don’t we get comfortable on the couch, I’ll rub your feet and we can eat the snacks I got and then maybe have sex too,” he adds cheekily and it finally makes you laugh.

“Harry!”

“What?” he grins. “I told you, you’re beautiful. Of course I want to have sex with my amazing wife!”

“You don’t mind the weight I’ve put on?”

“No,” he answers confidently. “I love all of you, I love this wonderful body of yours that’s cooking my baby in there,” he smirks and leaning down he kisses your stomach, making you laugh. Then he wraps you in his arms and pulls you into his embrace. “We good?” he hums.

“Yeah,” you nod, holding onto him tight.

“So, snacks?”

“Yes.”

“And sex?” he adds, his hands wondering down to your butt, giving it a nice squeeze.

“Mm… Maybe. After snacks,” you say, making him laugh this time.

“Deal!”

Thank you for reading, please like and reblog if you enjoyed and buy me a coffee if you want to support me!

[honeyhotteoks]

a little more love to give (j.yh + p.sh)

summary: fifth and final installment in the husbands series; it's been years, and you life with them has grown, you just don't expect your second baby to be a surprise. part one: room for three || part two: and if i stay || part three: their gift || part four: hold fast together

note: 18+ content, minors DNI. // i'm back.... with the final installment of the husbands series. it's essentially all fluff and tender smut, definitely less hard than previous chapters but you know, they're parents now lol

warnings: non idol!yunho, non idol!seonghwa, fem!reader, married!yunhwa, established yunhwa x reader relationship, mmf, brief mention of trouble conceiving, pregnancy, discussion of early pregnancy symptoms like nausea, headaches, dizzy/fainting spells, nervous!yunhwa, some physical body descriptions relating to body change with pregnancy including weight/physicality, but on a fun note...... praise, degredation/humilitation, body worship, so much fucking oil, vaginal and anal fingering, oral (m receiving), oral (f receiving), cumshots, mention of sir kink but not used, lots of verbal instruction, lots of breast and nipple play, nipple clamps, light pain play, gratuitous use of good girl, sweet girl, pretty girl, etc., essentially if you don't want to read pregnant!reader sex, don't read this but honestly they're pretty in love and i thought it was cute - please let me know if i missed any.

pairings: yunho x seonghwa x reader

genre: smut, fluff, domestic / slice of life

word count: 11.4K

my masterlist || read it on AO3

special note - their daughter's name is dasom, which literally translates to love in korean. seonghwa calls her 'nae sarang' which also translates to 'my love'. i think after all the trouble they had getting pregnant, there's nothing else they would want to call her but love. i just thought that additional context might be nice for some readers. please enjoy, and thanks for sticking with this one. x

You’re tucked away in the dim light of your bedroom nursing a headache when you hear the front door of your apartment swing open. Checking your phone for the time, you wince at the bright light and press the lock button again quickly to dim the screen. You have unanswered messages and notifications, but you can’t even think about that with the way your head is aching, you’re just glad it’s not as bad as it was a few hours ago. 

With a sigh you stay settled under the covers and opt to listen, your husbands getting home from their respective days downstairs. 

“Oh,” You hear Seonghwa say first, “hey, Nari,”

Your best friend’s voice is bright and clear, echoing up the stairs and you know she’s in the entryway to greet them, “Hi, Seonghwa,” and then a beat later, “baby, look who’s home!” Her voice lilts up, playful and fun.

Your daughter makes a joyful, bubbly sound, “Appa!” 

“Come here, nae sarang,” He’s hauling her up into a hug, you just know it. 

You duck your head up out of the blankets to listen more closely despite the throb behind your temples. 

“She’s getting so big,” Nari says.

“Mhm,” Yunho’s low voice murmurs, “a proper little princess now,”

Your daughter giggles, and you smile.

“Where’s y/n?” Seonghwa finally asks.

You had all but begged her to keep your secret, but Nari is a terrible liar and all she can do is stumble over her words, “She’s, well, you know her, she’s,”

“Nari?” Yunho asks, a laugh in his voice still.

“Princess,” Seonghwa coos to your baby girl, “where did your mommy run off to?”

There’s a long pause, and you can almost picture your baby’s teary face, round cheeks pink and wet with fat tears. It took so long to get her to stop crying in the first place. “Eomma,” she wails, and you grit your teeth.

“Oh, aegiya don’t do that,” Nari soothes, “it’s okay,”

“Shh,” Seonghwa croons, and you know he’s rocking her from side to side. 

“What’s going on?” Seonghwa sounds confused. 

“Ah. I just got her calmed down,” Nari sighs.

“E-Eomma!” She wails again and this time Yunho’s voice isn’t so casual.

“What’s going on, sweetheart?” He maintains a light tone for her, but you can hear the anxiety in it, “Where’s mommy?”

“She,” Nari starts to say. but your daughter’s bubbling wail cuts her off.

“Eomma f-fell down!” Another pointed sob. 

“What?” Alarm is laced through Seonghwa’s voice, “Is she alright? Why didn’t someone call us?”

“She’s completely fine,” Nari assures, “she just called me to come watch Dasom after,”

“After what?” Yunho presses.

“Hush, baby, it’s okay,” Seonghwa croons, trying to even out your baby’s cries.

“Where is she?” Yunho asks insistently, trying to keep calm in front of Dasom. 

“She’s not hurt, she didn’t even hit her head, she’s just,” Nari back tracks, “sorry, okay, she’s in your room,”

You hear jogging, footsteps hurrying up the steps, and Dasom wails again, Nari’s soothing tone humming as she takes your daughter back in her arms. 

The door pushes open wide, Yunho’s eyes searching and nervous, “Hey,”

“Hey,” You murmur, groaning a little at the harsh hallway light, “oh, please shut the door, the light,”

Seonghwa pushes the door shut as Yunho crosses the room, sitting on the edge of the bed and looking you over, “What’s going on?”

“I’m okay, don’t worry,” You reach for his hand and give him a squeeze, “Dasom just got scared because I’m not feeling well, and I asked Nari to come over so I could get some rest,”

Seonghwa eases onto the opposite side of the bed, scooting over until he’s sitting up against the headboard by your side, “she said you fell? Fell how?

You sigh into your pillow, “I was making her lunch, and I got dizzy,” 

Yunho’s eyes flick to his husband’s, then back to yours, “Okay,”

You know they’ll panic when you say it but they’ll find out no matter what, “I fainted, which I think just seemed scary to Dasom,”

“Did you hit your head?” Yunho reaches for you, fingertips soft on your jaw, “Should we go to the hospital?” 

You shake your head, “No, no, I caught myself fine,” 

“I still think a doctor,” Seonghwa sounds nervous, “you fainted out of nowhere? I saw you eat this morning,” 

Your mind flicks back to when you threw it all up in the hallway bathroom while Dasom was down for her nap, how you pulled yourself up and rallied to make her a little lunch and then found yourself stumbling in the kitchen, your daughter’s nervous voice in your ear. 

“I don’t need a doctor,” You assure him, “I just need a little rest,” 

“Come here,” Yunho slides closer and lays his hand across your forehead, “you don’t feel warm,” 

“It’s not a fever,” You murmur, taking his hand and pressing a kiss to his palm before letting him pull away. 

“If you felt bad enough that you needed to call Nari,” Seonghwa shakes his head, “that you couldn’t keep an eye on Dasom, I think it’s serious enough that we should see a doctor, jagiya,” 

You wanted to tell them later, to confirm things with a blood test first, to make sure everything was going well before you announced the news, but you suppose there are enough signs that you’re sure. Little things you had been brushing off for weeks, not to mention the positive test from the pharmacy. The same exact symptoms that you had with Dasom, down to the sudden migraines. 

“It’s okay,” You take his hand, “I promise. It was scary for Dasom, but she’s three,” 

“Then why did you call Nari?” Yunho presses, “You should have called us, I could have come home early,” 

You’re hardly ever sick, and you forgot how fussy they get anytime you so much as sneeze. 

Your head throbs again and you sigh. You had wanted to make it special, to make it more romantic than this, but there’s no keeping it from them now. You shake your head, “I called Nari so she could watch Dasom while I rested, and so she could pick me up a pregnancy test on her way,”

Yunho’s face goes slack, “A what?” 

“I’ve been getting sick again,” You push yourself up in the bed to sit against the soft headboard, “everyday at lunchtime just like before. I didn’t think anything of it, of any of the signs because we haven’t been trying,” 

“You’re kidding,” Yunho leans away, glancing between you and Seonghwa, “you… why didn’t you tell us you were sick?” 

You open your mouth to explain, to find something to say, but Seonghwa finally speaks up. 

“You’re pregnant?” He stammers, “Are you sure?” 

“I’m sick everyday, dizzy, my headaches are back, I’ve been crying at fucking everything,” Your eyes sting at the thought, “I’m so late, I didn’t even realize it, we’ve been busy… but I’m so, so late,” 

“Oh my god,” Yunho’s face lights up, and he presses a hand over his mouth. 

“There’s a positive test in the trash,” You nod towards the bathroom, “I was going to go to the doctor tomorrow, confirm everything with a blood test and then tell you… so much better than this, but, yeah, yes, I’m pregnant,” 

“Jagi,” Seonghwa breathes, and you realize now his eyes are full of unshed tears. 

Yunho tugs you into his arms and you start with a squeak. His arms wrap around you, his face ducked into your neck, and he takes a watery breath, “I can’t believe it,” 

“I don’t know when it happened,” You lean your cheek on his chest, “but if my symptoms are lining up on the same timeline as Dasom, I’m at least twelve weeks,” 

“The lake trip,” Seonghwa says after a moment, and you flip back in your mental calendar to three, almost four months ago when Yunho’s parents had taken care of Dasom for a long weekend and the three of you slipped away for a much needed vacation together. 

Yunho nods into your neck, his hand coasting up and down your back. 

He’s not letting you go, and Seonghwa hasn’t said anything more, and your stomach flips. “This is good news, isn’t it? I mean, I know we haven’t talked about it recently, but it’s,” 

Yunho laughs sharply, pulling away and cupping your cheeks, “Of course it is,” His cheeks are wet, eyes sparkling, and he surges forwards to kiss you, his breath shaky on your lips. 

“Oh, thank god,” You mumble against his mouth. 

A light knock on the door catches your attention and you hear the door squeak open, “Hey, y/n,” 

Yunho pulls away, but he can’t quite pull his eyes away from you as you lean past him, “Yeah?” 

“Dasom’s getting a little ancy,” She murmurs, “how about I take her tonight? A little sleepover with her auntie to give you three some time?” 

You exhale and nod immediately, “You - Nari, that would be such a help,” 

“Did you,” She looks at you pointedly and gestures between the two men on either side of you. 

“Yeah,” You can’t stop the grin on your face. 

Yunho wipes away the tears threatening to spill over and pushes himself off the edge of the bed, “Let me help you get her things together, is she still crying?” 

“No,” Nari shakes her head, “she’s upset, but I got her to calm down for now,” 

“I’ll talk to her,” He squeezes your hand and takes a steadying breath, trying to calm down his sudden swell of emotion. 

“Don’t tell her yet,” You interject, “please,” 

“No,” He agrees, “not yet,” 

“Congratulations,” Nari says quietly, “all of you,” 

Yunho grins wide, nodding and Seonghwa murmurs a quiet thank you. You’ll have to do something nice for Nari, something special for taking care of Dasom today and giving you time with your husbands tonight. 

You had always talked about having more children, but the timing was never quite right. Dasom alone was a handful, plus the demands of all of your jobs growing stronger. It just became something you might do soon, but not now. Always not now. 

You watch Yunho take a deep breath before he follows Nari back downstairs to tend to your daughter, and then you’re alone again with Seonghwa. 

“Hey,” You murmur, shifting to meet his eyes. 

“Hi, darling,” He smiles warmly, eyes still shining. 

“How are you?” You gently prod his thigh. 

“I can barely believe it,” He admits, “but darling, you know me, I’ve always wanted another baby,” 

“You’re happy?” 

“So happy,” He reaches for you, shuffling closer on the bed until you’re pressed together, forehead to forehead, “I love you,” 

Tears bubble up again in your eyes and you nod against him, “I love you too, Hwa,” 

“I love our little life together,” He murmurs softly, “every second,” 

Your breath hitches a little, and you let your eyes slip closed, breathing together in time with him in the center of your bed. A light commotion downstairs breaks you both apart and you grin, “We should get up,” 

“You should be resting,” He shakes his head, “how’s your headache?” His fingertips smooth along your hairline as he looks you over. 

“Better than before, but still,” You sigh, “you remember what they were like,” 

“I do,” He gives you a soft, sympathetic smile, “which is why I’m saying go back to bed,” 

“I will when Dasom leaves,” You lean forward and kiss him gently, “but I don’t want her to be scared tonight, I should let her see me before she leaves,” 

There’s no argument there, so Seonghwa takes a deep breath and climbs out of the bed to offer you a hand, “I’ll go with you.” 

“Let me clean up second,” You blink hard when you get to your feet, the equilibrium of the room and the light from the hall a little jarring still, but you are feeling better than before, so you smooth your hair back and turn towards your vanity. You don’t bother to try and look completely normal, Dasom’s smart enough to see right through that, but you still run a brush through your hair and try to perk up just a bit to avoid looking dead on your feet. 

Seonghwa stands behind you, watching in the mirror with a smile on his face. 

“What?” You smile back at him, the joy in the room infectious now. 

“You’re a beautiful mother,” He says softly, “and I love you,” 

Pink tinges your cheeks at his words and your eyes flick down, “I love you too,” 

“My pretty wife,” He wraps his arms around you again, nuzzling your cheek and peppering soft kisses across your cheek. 

“Oh, stop,” You twist to kiss his soft lips, “come on, let’s go down,” 

“Mmhm,” He kisses you again before he lets you go and leads the way out of their bedroom and towards the stairs. 

As you enter into the light you wince a little, but it’s not so harsh that you can’t manage. 

He lays a hand on your lower back and moves to see your face, “Is it too much?” 

“Not yet,” You assure him, “I’ll be fine for a few minutes,” 

The voices downstairs start to shift, and you realize that Yunho is walking back towards the foyer at the bottom of the steps by the front door.

“People cry for happy things too, baby,” Yunho murmurs, and from the top of the stairs you watch him walking back and forth with Dasom in his arms, her tiny face pressed into his chest. 

She says something to him you can’t quite hear, muffled into his shirt. 

He smiles, rubbing her back, “I can’t tell you yet,” 

Her head pops up, and she rubs at her face with her little hand, “Why not?” 

“Mm,” Yunho narrows his eyes at her playfully, “because it’s a surprise,” 

Seonghwa wraps his arms around you from behind, listening with you. 

“I want a surprise,” She nods and Nari’s laugh echoes from the next room. 

“I know,” Yunho shrugs, keeping the energy light so she relaxes more, “but I promise when you come home from Nari’s we’ll have the surprise ready,” 

She sighs, and Seonghwa chuckles behind you. 

“Are you ready, baby?” Nari holds up Dasom’s coat and little backpack. 

“Can we watch Ariel?” Dasom perks up, scrambling to get out of Yunho’s arms.

“Mhm,” Nari drops down to her height to help her put the coat on, “but I don’t remember all the words to the songs, so you’ll have to teach me,” 

“I know all the words,” She says and you watch Yunho’s face light up. 

Seonghwa squeezes you, “I want to see her before she leaves,” 

“Me too,” You brush off your cheeks, and despite your headache you get yourself together enough to go downstairs, “do I look like I’ve been crying?” 

“Not too bad,” Seonghwa assures you, “me?” 

You shake your head, “Only a little,” 

“Yunho’s the crier anyways,” Seonghwa grins, and then starts down the steps. 

You follow him, and at the first creak of the stairs, Yunho looks up and Dasom whips right around, “Eomma!”

“Hey,” You smile, “I heard you’re having a sleepover,” 

Yunho’s watching you like a hawk, his body tense like you might faint again at any moment but you give him an easy smile and shake your head a little. Seonghwa’s hand presses into the center of your back, and the minute you hit the landing, your daughter collides with your legs. 

“Hey, hey,” You smooth back her hair, “what’s this?” 

“Are you sick?” She mumbles into your leggings. 

You share a quick smile with your husbands, and then reach down for her. When you hoist her up, both of them take a sudden step towards you, Seonghwa’s hands around Dasom’s waist to help lift her and take any weight off, but you settle her on your hip anyways. 

“I’m not sick,” You assure her, “you know how mommy gets headaches sometimes?” 

She nods. 

“Just a headache,” You smile, “I’m sorry I made you worry, baby,” 

“It’s okay,” Her words run together, and then she twists in your arms to find Yunho, “Appa has a surprise,” 

“Oh, he does, does he?” You smile, her attention back on you, and when you look up Yunho’s holding up his hands and mouthing an apology. 

“I want it now,” She kicks her little legs and you smile. 

“Mm,” You consider her words, and she watches your face carefully as you pretend to think, “I don’t know, my love, patience is important.” 

She frowns, and at the first quiver of her bottom lip you shake your head, she stills. 

“The surprise isn’t ready yet,” You tell her honestly, “but when you get home, it will be. So if you can be a big girl, and be very patient, your present will be here when you get home from your sleepover,” 

“But,” She starts, but Seonghwa is quick to intervene. 

“Dasom,” He says, voice soft but just a little more firm than before, “mommy’s not feeling very well, don’t argue, please.” 

Her mouth snaps shut, and she still looks sad, but she nods. Every day you feel her growing up in your arms and learning little by little and your heart clenches. A sudden image of her teaching your new baby flickers through your mind and you feel overwhelmingly tender, soft like you might cry. 

Seonghwa picks up on the change immediately, “Come here, nae sarang,” 

She’s out of your arms and held in his a moment later. Yunho’s wide palm smooths up and down your back and you take a steadying breath. 

“Can you put your jacket on for auntie, please?” Seonghwa asks, turning her away from you and nuzzling her with his nose, pressing a kiss to her soft cheek. 

“Yep,” She says as she drops to the floor and stretches her arms up and wide for Nari to slide her arms through the sleeves of the puffy coat. 

“God, she’s cute,” You murmur under your breath and Yunho chuckles at your side. 

“Let’s go, babe,” Nari zips her up and grabs her backpack from the floor. 

Yunho steps forward and snags it, “I’ll walk you down,” 

“Thanks,” Nari nods, patting Dasom’s back. 

Dasom says goodbye to you over her shoulder, focused on whatever Yunho’s saying to her, the stress of the day forgotten now that she’s seen you up and walking around. Yunho keeps her attention with ease and her little hand locks on Nari’s. You watch her go and despite your headache, your heart aches worse. 

“Alright,” Seonghwa murmurs as soon as they’re out of sight, “back to bed,” 

“Yes, please,” You admit, sighing and leaning against his chest. 

“I’ll come with you,” He kisses your hair. 

“It’s early,” 

“So, I’ll stay until you fall asleep,” He pushes you gently towards the stairs, “just relax and let me take care of you,” 

It’s easy to do, you’ve been letting him care for you for years. He takes you to bed and helps you slip into sleep. By the time Yunho gets back upstairs you’re out like a light and the two of them are left to marvel in the news by themselves. 

It’s hours and hours before your headache breaks and you wake to the warm feeling of your husbands bodies pressed close to you. Someone’s arm is wrapped around your middle, someone’s thigh pressed between yours, lips on your shoulder, a hand on your backside, feet tangled together under the comforter. Morning light bleeds into the room, pale yellow and warm, one of the first times you’ve woken up by your own internal clock in what feels like months. 

You’re pressed into Seonghwa’s chest, and you kiss his bare skin softly, eliciting a contented sigh from his lips. His hand slips down from its place on the small of your back and under the waistband of your sleep pants, coasting over your skin and squeezing you in all the right places. 

“Mm, Hwa,” You pull him closer. 

“How’s your head?” He asks softly, checking before he takes his hand any further. 

“Better,” You nod, your lips traveling up his throat, “come kiss me,” 

Yunho rolls closer behind you, groaning as he wakes, the familiar feeling of his morning hardness connecting with your thigh. “We haven’t slept in,” He sighs, “in so long,” 

“It’s seven-thirty,” You laugh against Seonghwa’s lips. 

“Exactly,” Yunho tugs you both closer, “our six am human alarm isn’t jumping on us,” 

“Oh, you miss her,” Seonghwa laughs, “I know you do,” 

“So much,” He smiles against your shoulder. 

“Well,” You murmur, pressing your hips back into Yunho’s to feel him just a little closer, “I think our sleep is about to get worse, not better in the next few months,” 

“True,” Seonghwa shifts down in the bed to kiss you properly, his fingers tangling with Yunho’s above your head. 

“Mm, but I think,” Yunho reaches around and smooths his hand over your stomach, and then stills completely. 

“What?” You mumble, shifting back from Seonghwa’s lips and looking over your shoulder to try and find your other husband’s eyes. 

“You’re already showing,” His hand moves across you again, this time from top to bottom of your belly to trace the soft swell, “how did we not notice?” 

“It’s not that much,” You shake your head, but Seonghwa is already sliding his hand out of your sleep pants to curl around your front and feel for himself. 

“Yes, it is,” Seonghwa grins, backing up to look down at you, “oh my god,” 

“Come here,” Yunho tugs you back onto your back gently and Seonghwa pushes the comforter down until it’s settled low around all of your hips. 

“Look,” Seonghwa slides your sleepshirt up until it’s tucked just under your breasts and he smooths a hand across your belly, “that’s a bump,” 

Shifting in the covers you look down at yourself, “You’re right,” you murmur softly, eyes still studying yourself. 

It’s still small, not the pronounced curve of a clearly pregnant person’s body, but they know you and every inch of your skin well, and to them it’s plain as day. Your body has been so different since Dasom, softer in so many ways and even to you this little change is easy to miss until you’re really looking. To anyone else the subtle swell would be nothing, but to you it’s everything. To them, it’s your words made real. 

“Look, look,” Yunho grins, sliding his hand down your side until he cups under your stomach,  his hand clearly folding into the slightest curve at the change in your body, “you really are pregnant,” 

“Yeah,” Your voice is small. 

Yunho moves low in the sheets suddenly, pressing his lips to your stomach and smiling, “Hi, baby,” 

You stroke his hair softly, “You’re so cute,” 

“We’ve missed months,” Yunho says without looking back up, stroking your skin again, “we started talking to Dasom when she was the size of a pea, we’ll have to catch up with this little one,” 

“God, I really do love you both,” You sigh. 

“Mhm,” Yunho kisses your stomach again, “and we love you, and this new bean,” 

You could cry, you really could. 

“Boy or girl?” Seonghwa murmurs, propping his head up on one hand. 

“Sister or brother, is the real question,” You offer, “Dasom would lose her little mind if it’s a girl,” 

“Should we find out early?” Yunho asks, pulling his attention away from your stomach and looking up at you both. 

With Dasom you did, you were all being too cautious and careful about the pregnancy since it had taken so long to get there that you had every health screening and pregnancy checkup known to man, so the mystery of your baby’s sex wasn’t easy to keep when you went through as many ultrasounds and doctors visits as you did. 

“Maybe,” Seonghwa says, “it might be nice to know early to help prepare Dasom, they always say it’s hard for kids to adjust from only child to older sibling. Maybe if she knows sister or brother she can start to think about it early,” 

You nod, chewing your lip and absent mindedly running your fingers through Yunho’s dark hair. 

“She could help us decorate,” Yunho offers, “it might help keep her involved so it’s an exciting thing, not a scary thing,” 

“It’s a good idea,” You agree, “but let me get a check-up first,” 

“Sure,” He says, “but it’s still nice to plan for, she’s going to be so excited,” 

“I hope so,” 

Seonghwa snuggles into your one side, kissing you warmly and wrapping an arm around your middle, “How are you feeling so far today?” 

“Normal, I think?” You smile. 

“Yeah?” Seonghwa brushes your hair back, “Nausea? Headache?” 

You shake your head softly and then take a moment to feel your body, taking stock of all the little things. You stretch against the mattress, arching your back a little to shift out of your sleeping position, and find yourself in a deep yawn. 

Yunho’s hand smooths over your stomach as you stretch long, his fingers spread wide and grin across his face, “I really can’t believe it, I thought we’d have to try again,” 

“Me too,” You admit, threading your fingers with his. 

“Last time was…” Yunho trails off, and he doesn’t have to say it, you all remember. 

“Let’s not think about it,” Seonghwa surprises you, reaching across to brush Yunho’s cheek, “let’s just be happy about this little one,” 

Yunho swallows and clears his throat, pushing away whatever momentary emotion had flooded up inside him. It was hard for all of you, and when Dasom finally came all of those hard, bad things were easy to forget, at least for a little while. 

“There’s a lot to be happy for,” You smile, pushing past those memories and focusing on the present, “for one… we’re alone,” 

“That is a very good point,” Seonghwa kisses your head. 

“Alone for a while,” You add, “hours, even,” 

“Oh, you are feeling better,” Yunho laughs, dropping a kiss to your belly and sighing warmly against your skin. 

“We’ve been so busy,” You relax between them, letting your shirt ride up a little, “don’t you miss me?” 

“Don’t even joke,” Seonghwa huffs, picking up on your queues with ease and slipping the shirt up and off your head. 

Yunho pulls the tie of your sleep pants open with one firm tug and slides them off in a hurry. 

They crowd you on either side, lips dropping on your skin and hands smoothing over you until Seonghwa stills, cupping the beginnings of your bump and Yunho falls still beside him. 

“What?” You reach for Seonghwa, trying to tug him back down to your mouth. 

“Nothing,” He shakes his head, “I just keep remembering that you're pregnant again.” He smooths his hand down further, looking for your thigh. 

“Mm,” You stretch, letting Seonghwa shift your leg open wide, “does this mean you’re both going to start fussing over me again?” 

“Who’s fussing?” Yunho smirks, easing down the bed and pressing kisses across your belly until he’s settled between your open thighs. 

“You,” You smile, “treating me like glass,” 

“To be fair,” Seonghwa’s lips travel across your shoulder, teeth nipping at your collarbones, “we were all nervous last time,” 

“And now?” You sigh. 

“I think we know how to take care of you,” Seonghwa chuckles. 

Yunho’s hands coast up and down your thighs, “And there’s nothing wrong with being gentle,” 

You start to smile, but your breath catches in your throat as he runs the back of his knuckle down your slit, the fabric of your panties tickling your sensitive nub. 

“Taking it slow,” Seonghwa offers, his mouth dancing closer to your nipple but conveniently never touching. 

“I like slow,” You breathe, letting your eyes fall closed. 

“Mm,” Seonghwa shakes his head, “no,” 

Yunho chuckles. 

“You like hard,” Seonghwa nips at your breast with his teeth, “and fast,” 

Your breath thins as you feel your body start to respond. 

“And rough,” Seonghwa adds, the pad of his thumb pressing down over your nipple, “and sometimes mean,” 

“Fuck,” You hiss as he flicks your nipple hard before pinching it between his thumb and forefinger. 

“Slow,” Seonghwa adds, “just makes you whine and beg for hard and fast,” 

“So?” Your hand on his back tightens. 

“Sometimes we want just want to take our time darling,” Seonghwa’s tongue finally, finally flicks across your other nipple, “especially when we know how sensitive you must be,” 

Yunho presses a kiss to your clit through your panties, sighing through the fabric, “Are you sore, sweetheart? Aching?” 

“Does this hurt?” Seonghwa cups your breast, kneading it with a little more pressure than before and you gasp. 

“N-no,” You breathe. 

“Do you want it to?” Seonghwa squeezes you again. 

Your hips buck softly, pressing your cunt harder against Yunho’s face and he smiles, flicking the firm muscle of his tongue over your clit, dragging the cotton fabric across it enough that you rock your hips again. 

“This is too slow,” You let your head fall back against the bed, “and you know it,” 

Seonghwa lifts his head, kissing your lips before brushing his fingers along your jaw, “Just for now,” he murmurs. 

“Okay,” You crane your neck up to kiss him back, “but you remember what things were like with Dasom, you won’t hurt us,” 

Seonghwa smiles, and Yunho lifts his mouth away to slip his fingers under the edges of your panties and drag them down your thighs. “Us,” Yunho repeats, his voice content and soft. 

“I have an idea,” Seonghwa sighs, “how about you lie back and trust me, jagi,” 

“You know I do,” You didn’t mean to upset him, and of course there’s nothing wrong with him taking his time, but you’ve been gifted with time alone and you really, really want to use it. 

“Just hush,” He shakes his head, “close your eyes.” 

You snap them closed immediately, “Yes, sir,” 

“Mm,” Seonghwa makes a soft, negative noise as he shifts off the bed, “not today, okay? Just be with us,” 

You nod, feeling Yunho’s hands slide up over your hips to warmly ground you. 

The sound of a drawer opening perks you up though and you lift your head to try and hear better. 

“Baby,” Seonghwa says to Yunho, “how’s this?” 

“Perfect,” Yunho agrees, and you feel him shift on the mattress, his hands leaving your hips, “and get me the - yes, those,” 

“What are you two doing?” You finally ask, desperately eager and wanting to open your eyes. 

“My darling,” Seonghwa says, “we’re going to show you how much we love you,” 

“For as long as you can take,” Yunho adds, “as fast or slow as we want.”

Your body melts into the mattress, you know that tone of voice. You love that tone of voice. 

“Tell us if something doesn’t feel good,” Seonghwa’s voice is back at your side.

“I will,” You promise, and you can’t help the smile on your face. 

“Alright beautiful,” Seonghwa kneels by your side, “lift up, eyes stay closed.”

Yunho’s hand on your hip clarifies your other husband's words and you press up to lift your hips high. They’re prepping something, communicating silently with each other, and it leaves you wanting. You’re a second away from pleading with them to tell you their plans. 

“There we go,” Yunho says, “you can relax,” 

When you ease back down the sensation under you is different, a soft towel underneath your hips and you’re about to open your mouth and try to guess their plan, but your husbands push your thighs open wide and something warm and wet and slippery drips over your bare mound. 

You sigh out a soft moan as the warming oil slides down between your thighs, and then you feel it again. Warm oil spreads again, this time across your belly and breasts and you suddenly realize what they mean to do to you. It’s not often that you have the time for this kind of foreplay anymore, let alone the patience for it. Seonghwa isn’t necessarily wrong either, you love them when they’re bossy and firm and taunting, so room for this kind of slow worship is narrow. Except something about Yunho’s thumb gliding the oil down over your cunt is making you dizzy, so you let them give you what they want. 

“You’re beautiful,” Seonghwa murmurs into your ear as he smooths the oil up your chest and spreads it across your skin, “always, jagiya, but something about this,” 

“Mhm,” Yunho hums, his fingers slowly massaging your skin, close to your slit but never parting your folds, “so perfect,” 

“Please touch me,” Your voice is breathy, “please,” 

“We are touching you,” Yunho says and you can hear the teasing smile in his voice. 

“You know what I think?” Seonghwa sighs, sliding his hand over your breast again and massaging. 

“Tell me,” You arch into his touch, opening your legs wider for Yunho. 

“I think,” He squeezes your nipple a little harder than before, “we clearly haven’t been taking care of our darling properly if we didn’t even notice this.” He massages the oil down your chest over the soft, small swell of your stomach. 

You twitch beneath him, breath quickening. 

“We need to make it up to you, my love,” Yunho’s voice is low, husky as he stays focused on his task. Every warm rub of his fingers anywhere near your dripping slit has your hips jerking. 

“Oh, god,” You sigh. 

“Mm,” Seonghwa massages your chest again, “I think these are fuller, we missed that too, love,” 

“Oh,” You moan sharply as he pinches your nipples again. 

“You’re being so patient, sweetheart,” Yunho murmurs, the tips of his two fingers dipping inside you for just a moment. 

“G-God, do that again,” You press your body forward, begging for just a little more. 

“Yunho,” Seonghwa says, his voice firm, “hands off,”

Suddenly no one’s touching you, and you’re a breath away from screaming. Your body’s pulsating with need, not just the extended, slow foreplay bringing you up but the sheer amount of hormones coursing through your body that make you want to come so hard you hear colors. 

Still, you know better than to open your eyes. 

Seonghwa descends over you with ease, his mouth hot at your ear, and his words have you arching in the sheets. With a nip at your soft earlobe he says low, “Can we play with you, baby?” 

All you can manage is a stammering yes. 

“Let us play with your pretty body, baby,” He kisses your throat and a warm hand fully cups your sex. 

“A-anything, anything,” You’re almost embarrassed by how much of a puddle you already are, but it was exactly the same last time you were pregnant and you’re sure they’re loving every second. 

“Good, good girl,” Seonghwa murmurs, his voice tender, “I love you so much,” 

Blush floods your cheeks and you feel warm pinpricks behind your eyes, “I love you too, Hwa,” 

He kisses your cheek, your jaw, your throat, and then pulls back slightly before you feel the bed move, “Would you like clamps, or are you too sensitive?” 

Your eyes fly open and you immediately see Seonghwa above you, in his hand a familiar silver chain. You nod immediately, “Yes please,” 

“Are you sure?” He smiles, a little teasing as he palms one of your breasts and starts to lovingly tweak your nipple into a hardened peak. 

Warm pleasure sparks through you at his ministrations and you whimper, “Yes,”

He preps you easily, making sure you’re ready to take the clamps and your skin there is dry enough that they won’t slide off. Your eyes flick to Yunho who watches with rapt attention, his lips parting as Seonghwa secures one nipple clamp and then the other. 

“How’s that?” Seonghwa checks as he sets the second one. 

You’ve been sensitive lately, he’s certainly not wrong about that. Your breasts aching with the changes of your body, and you’ve been hyper aware of anything brushing along your nipples at all, let alone the sensation of a clamp, and if you're being honest it hurts. You hiss sharply as he releases the pressure of his hand and lets the clamp close, and he doesn’t rush to remove it but his eyes flick to yours. 

The initial pain fades to a kind of numbing warmth and you exhale slow and steady, “I’m okay, it feels good,” 

“And this?” He draws the chain tighter in his hand, just enough that the clamp pulls at your nipple. 

A shock of pleasure runs through your breast down your back, “Oh fuck, Hwa,” 

“Good,” He smiles, dropping the chain on your chest, “sit up a minute, would you?” 

“Sure,” You push yourself up and Yunho takes your hand to draw you up into a seated position on the towels. Seonghwa spreads another towel down behind you before shucking off his boxers and sliding behind you. As he situates, you realize what’s on the bed next to you. Next to the bottle of warming oil are two vibrators and a dildo. Yunho smiles as he sees your expression. 

“Come here,” Seonghwa says from behind you as he scoots closer, one leg on either side of you now, “lay back,” 

Yunho eases you back down onto your husband’s bare chest, “Comfortable?” 

“Mhm,” You assure him, “but I know you’re planning something, I know that look,” 

Yunho laughs and shakes his head, “If spending the morning making my wife come is planning something, then sure,” 

Your muscles clench around nothing at his words and you can’t help but wet your lips. 

“Now,” Yunho smiles, “just relax for us,” 

You nod, and Seonghwa pushes your hair back as you lay on his chest. His hands settle on your slick skin, massaging the oil into every part of you that he can touch, his hands never quite coming back to touch the clamps or their chain. With a sigh, you let your muscles relax fully and your legs fall open and slack against Seonghwa’s thighs. 

Yunho pushes off his knees and settles down next to you, sitting almost hip to hip with you, before uncapping the bottle of oil and pouring a little more out in his hand. 

You exhale low and slow, “Should I close my eyes?” 

Yunho glances back at you, “Do you want to?” 

“Do you want me to?” You clarify. 

He shakes his head, “We want what you want,” 

You swallow hard, your body lighting up at just the sight of his hands glistening and ready to please you, “I want to watch,” 

“Good girl,” Seonghwa chuckles, nipping at your ear and pressing kisses anywhere he can. 

“Now, please,” You sigh, widening your legs a little more, “Yunho, please,” 

“Shush,” He shakes his head, and you’re about to protest, but then he’s touching you and your mind is singing. 

Yunho slides his hand down and parts your slick folds with ease, his middle finger teasing your entrance repeatedly until he sinks it inside. You moan, tilting your hips up a little more. 

Seonghwa hums behind you as he watches, his cock stiff and aching behind you, but it hardly matters because right now their attention is laser focused on you and you alone. One of his hands travels up to cup your breast and slowly he starts kneading your soft flesh. 

“You’re so wet,” Yunho murmurs, almost to himself as he starts to rock his hand in a slow massaging rhythm, dragging his fingers down and back up your swelling clit before dipping inside you each and every time, “and tighter,” 

The feeling of his hand is already too much, applying perfect pressure and speed to knot your body up with need but never push you anywhere close to the edge of anything. He’s taking his sweet time, savoring you and your body, and you’d be embarrassed by the intensity and intimacy if it were anyone in the world but them. 

Seonghwa’s plush lips start to work over your throat, sucking at your pulse points and placing tender bites along the column of your neck. Your breath is thinner, thready and you can’t help the little whimper that bubbles out of you. 

Your eyes almost flutter shut, but Yunho’s other hand dips under your raised thigh and he glances back at you with warm eyes. 

“W-what,” You start to ask what that face is for, what he means to do, why he won’t speed up, but then his fingers press down on the tight ring of muscle between your cheeks and your voice cuts off in a tight moan. 

“Does it feel that good, baby?” Yunho presses his fingers inside, pumping them slow and deep. 

“Yun,” You moan, “more,” 

For the first time all morning, he listens. 

Yunho slides one hand to your clit, setting a firm pace of massaging circles while his other steadily pumps two fingers in and out of your ass, curled in just the right way to apply pressure where you need it while the slick pad of his middle finger stimulates your aching bud. 

“Oh, baby,” Seonghwa smiles against your throat, “is he making you feel good?” 

You nod, your face crinkling up as the edge of your orgasm starts to curl up and over you. 

“Tell us how good,” Seonghwa directs, and his hand slides down your sternum and takes the chain. 

“I’m,” Your breath catches and you roll your hips, “it feels so, so good,” 

“Good enough to come?” Seonghwa pulls the chain and you arch with it, the pull of the clamps against your prone nipples combined with the steady pulse of hands inside you making you keen. 

“Yes, fuck,” You choke. 

Yunho chuckles and his hand speeds up. 

“God, oh god,” You pant. 

Seonghwa massages your body with his free hand, deft fingers pressing in all the right ways over the soft, plush curves of your sides, your stomach, your thighs. His opposite hand pulls the chain with the slightest bit more force. 

You cry out, voice dying in your throat and your eyes clamp shut, body arching up in their hands. 

“Color, darling,” Seonghwa asks quickly, “you alright?” 

“Green,” You shake your head, “don’t you dare fucking stop,” 

“Come,” Yunho commands, doubling his efforts on your clit, “I know you need it,” 

“F-fuck,” Your body flushes with heat, slick wetness everywhere, and you can’t really get purchase on anything, but you try, your oiled hands gripping Yunho’s back and Seonghwa’s thigh. 

“Come on,” He bids again, “let go,” 

Seonghwa tugs the clamps again and your vision whites, your legs snapping shut and body curling as you crack open, nothing but a stuttering mess of moans and shivering limbs. 

“No,” Yunho wrenches your legs back open, “I’m not done with you,” 

Your mind doesn’t make sense of it until you feel the silicone nub of the suction vibrator. He works quickly, locating your clit with ease and closing the mouth of the toy over it before clicking it on. The sensation is immediate and it takes both of them holding your legs open wide to keep you from closing down on yourself and riding out the sensation. 

“Good, baby, yes,” Seonghwa’s fingers are tight on your skin, “what a fucking mess you are,” 

It takes all but thirty seconds of the sucking toy and Yunho’s fingers working your ass open for the familiar tight bubble to build again, only this time the pressure is all encompassing and you only have a second of conscious thought before the sound that leaves your lips is desperate and feral. 

“I’m gonna fucking come,” You scramble in Seonghwa’s arms and he tugs the clamps again, “I’m- I’m gonna,” 

Yunho rocks the toy, circling with the suction, and you swear you lose time. 

You come so impossibly hard you think you just might bring back your migraine, but it would be worth it for this. Clear fluid pulses out of you as you release and Yunho’s saying something encouraging as he coaxes you to come more with his fingers moving fast across your slick folds, but you can’t hear him. 

When your body starts to pull away from him and your moans turn to little overstimulated sobs, he pulls back and clicks off the toy, and drops low to press hungry kisses across your skin. He sighs against your inner thighs, nips at your soft belly, and can’t help himself when he takes a long, slow lap of your cunt. 

“I need you right now,” He confesses, “H-Hwa move,” 

“Slow down,” Seonghwa tries to bring him back down to earth, “take a breath,” 

Yunho’s hands tighten on your thighs. 

“Seonghwa,” You shake your head, “please,”

“Alright,” He murmurs, dropping the chain, “I got you.” 

He slides out from behind you, and then Yunho’s above you, wasting no time at all. He finds your entrance with ease, rocking his hips slowly until his cockhead catches inside you, and then with a slow press forward of his hips he fully seats himself inside. 

The stretch is delicious, dizzying and deep, and you moan, biting down on his shoulder. 

“Am-am I hurting you?” He asks, breathless. 

You shake your head, “No, you feel so perfect,” 

He drops his head against yours and sighs into your hair, “God, you’re so tight, I can’t,” 

Your muscles clench around him, pulsing wet and warm around his cock and he chokes, his hips dropping lower. 

“Jesus, fuck,” He breathes low through his nose, “I’m trying really hard not to fuck the life out of you,” 

“Mm,” You rock yourself up against his pelvis, “why don’t you,” 

“Because,” He shifts back enough that he can see your face, “I said slow,” 

He draws his hips back, dragging his hot length almost all the way out of your channel, before pushing in again just as torturously slowly. You moan, hard and arch in his hands, “Again, please, again,” 

He does, just as slowly. He repeats himself, and then his eyes flick over your body, softening at the sight of you below him. Yunho sighs, dropping over you so that your bodies are flush together, still careful to keep the bulk of his weight off you. His mouth closes on yours, tongue dipping into your mouth, sharing one single warm breath between you as he starts to roll his hips. You taste yourself on his skin, the sharpness heady and hot between you. 

You moan against his mouth, your skin slick with sweat and oil. He cups your cheek, drags his hand down your side, slipping a little and his head bumps softly against yours. You grin against his mouth and he laughs and suddenly you realize, this is your life. Held beautifully between these two men who love you like no one else has ever loved you, their child inside you, not a single second of it a dream. 

Your breath hitches softly and you can’t stop staring up at him grinning. 

“What?” He asks softly, studying your face. 

You kiss him soft, “I love you,” 

“I love you too, sweetheart,” He breathes, “so much, I can’t… I don’t even know how to say how much,” 

“Show me then,” You cup his cheek, drawing him closer, “please,” 

He slides his hands up the back of your arms, drawing them above you, “Hwa,” 

Seonghwa catches your wrists with ease, holding them to the mattress as he moves closer to watch you both and have his hands on you. Yunho turns his head and kisses his shoulder, the closest part of Seonghwa’s skin he can reach, before snaking his way down your chest. 

“Use me,” He cups your hip, drawing you tight to his body, “I don’t want to hurt you,” 

“You won’t,” You assure him, threading your fingers into his hair. 

He shakes his head, “Use me anyways,” he says, bearing down his hips so that your clit is pressed up hard against his pubic bone, “please,” 

You draw him close, finding purchase with your heels on the mattress, and slowly you start to rock, grinding your body up into his. You sigh, the pleasant feeling of it spreading through you already, and he smiles against your chest. 

Yunho’s kisses grow hotter, little bites across as your skin and his hot breath across your nipples, but you moan when his teeth close over the chain and he draws back his head, pulling it taught. 

“Oh,” You shake, your hips stuttering to a stop, “oh, god,” 

Yunho nods, tapping your hip with his hand and begging you to start moving again. He holds your gaze as he pulls back, and suddenly you’re straining against the lead, the clamps pulling you perfectly and striking a hot stroke of need through your entire body. 

“Don’t stop,” Seonghwa offers, filling in where his husband can’t given his full mouth. 

“I can’t,” You whine, almost too tired and raw to work yourself against him like he wants. 

“Give her more,” Seonghwa instructs, and with just the slightest adjustment of Yunho’s head, the clamps pull harder. 

You’re crumbling. Desperate need strikes in your belly and you roll up into him, your muscles are aching but if you just keep going, just a little more, you’ll give him what he wants and what you know your body needs. 

His hips drop a fraction more and he hisses through his teeth, your cunt pulsing and aching as you build up, close to the edge and ready to tip over it. 

“Please,” You babble, even though you don’t know what you’re begging for. 

Yunho groans as you shift, his cock inside you bumping again and again into a velvet spot. 

“Beautiful,” Seonghwa sighs, his hands squeezing your wrists, “look at how well you take Yunho’s cock, hmm?” 

Your eyes roll, thighs starting to shake.

“Is he deep in your pretty cunt, sweet girl?” He drops his lips to your ear, pushing you closer and closer, “Do you love it?” 

“Y-yes,” You work yourself against him harder, the rolling pressure of his firm body against your sensitive clit bringing you closer and closer to release. 

“You do love our cocks, don’t you?” Seonghwa smiles, reaching between you and taking the chain from between Yunho’s teeth. 

“God, yes,” Your legs wrap around Yunho’s hips and hold him steady as you jut against him. 

“Are you close?” Yunho asks, voice broken and tight. 

“L-let me go,” Your wrists jerk against Seonghwa’s hands and he releases you immediately. Your hands fly forwards, bracing on Yunho’s shoulder and side, nails digging in as you hold onto him, “please, Yunho, move, please,” 

He sighs heavily, his hips jerking against yours and finally, finally he can’t resist it. 

You can feel how much control he’s using, trying his best to not thrust too hard or hold you too tightly, but it doesn’t matter. The rhythmic drag of his cock over your g-spot over and over sends you up, and when Seonghwa pulls down on the chain between your bodies, it all crashes into you again. 

Yunho groans at the feeling of your release, pulling back and out of you suddenly and Seonghwa switches focus. The chain drops on your chest as he moves and when your eyes open, you nearly come again just from the sight. 

Yunho still has one hand braced on your hip, but leans against Seonghwa, their lips crashed together. Seonghwa’s hand works fast over Yunho’s slick cock, and with a shuddering groan Yunho comes hard, his nails digging into your skin as he paints your body with ropes of hot, white cum. 

“Oh my god,” You breathe, your body still trembling. 

Yunho’s chest is heaving, bright pink with blush and shining with sweat, and Seonghwa brushes his fingers through his hair, pressing kisses across his face as he releases Yunho’s now softening cock. It takes him a moment to recover, but when he does, Yunho’s eyes find yours immediately, “Okay?” 

You nod, emotion flooding you as your mind finally starts to reconnect after the haze of orgasm after orgasm. Now your body is aching. You wince a little at the taut clamps, reaching for them to remove them yourself but Yunho moves more quickly. 

“I got it,” He soothes you, “Does it hurt?” 

“Not too much,” You ease him, sighing pleasantly as he unclips them. 

“Here, love,” Seonghwa uses a towel to clean you off, and it’s no replacement for a shower but it’ll let you relax here for a little bit longer until you can trust your legs. 

Yunho drops the clamps onto the side table along with the other toys, any of the ones unused forgotten in a minute. He hadn’t meant to fuck you, that wasn’t in the plan necessarily, but logic and reason left his brain the minute he saw you falling apart on his fingers. 

You’re blushing hard and recovering, limbs still a little shaky, when Seonghwa clears away the towels and pulls the sheet up over your body. He tosses the towels in the hamper and clears away the clothes off the floor, and he’s heading for the shower when your brain starts firing on all cylinders. 

“Seonghwa,” You call into the bathroom, listening as he starts the water. 

“Hmm?” He calls. 

You trade a quick smile with Yunho who’s still collapsed at your side before you call back, “Baby, I’m not done with you,” 

The look on his face when slips back into the bedroom is priceless, one brow raised and his shaggy black hair a mess of slight curls, “You need more?” 

“No,” You sigh, stretching and rolling onto your side, “you do,” 

His eyes flick over you, “You really don’t have to,” 

Yunho huffs behind you, “Just come back to bed,” 

“I know I don’t have to,” You sigh, pushing yourself up to a kneeling position on the bed, “but I want to,” 

Since getting up, Seonghwa had thrown a towel around his hips but you can still see the hard line of his cock beneath it, pushing against the thick fabric and begging to be touched. You wonder if he was going to try to quickly take care of things in the shower, try not to bother you with his needs, and that thought makes you want him even more. 

“Hwa,” You repeat, “come over here,” 

The corner of his mouth tips up in a smile and he makes his way back to the edge of the bed, “Yeah?” 

Your hands slide over his chest and find the top knotted corner of the towel, “Yeah,” you breathe, pulling the towel apart and letting it drop to the floor, “Yunho, can you help?” 

“What do you need, baby?” Yunho shuffles across the bed to be at your side. 

“Do you think Seonghwa would like my mouth? Or yours?” You ask, feigning innocence. 

“Yours,” Seonghwa interrupts, cupping your cheek, not waiting for flirty banter. 

Yunho laughs softly and nods, “There’s your answer,” 

“Sorry,” Seonghwa sighs, “I didn’t mean to answer that fast,” 

Yunho shakes his head, “I’d pick her too,” he stands, “but maybe I can still help, hmm?”

You feel Seonghwa’s fingers twitch along your jaw as he waits for what’s next, and you take the moment to reposition. You slide down onto your front, propped up on a pillow and using your leg for leverage, and then when you look back up you’re perfectly eye to eye with his pink, aching cock. 

A hand closes around it and Seonghwa moans, and your eyes flick up to see Yunho pressed flush behind Seonghwa and reaching around him. The smile on Yunho’s face is wolfish and hungry, his lips at his husband’s ear, “Do you like when I touch you?” 

Seonghwa sighs heavily and melts back into him, “Yes,” 

“Do you like when our baby touches you too?” Yunho pumps his hand and meets your eyes, nodding for you to get involved. 

You let saliva gather in your mouth, and slowly rake your nails down Seonghwa’s bare thigh, then back up to dance close to the base of his cock, down again so your fingers can slide over his balls. 

“y/n,” He chokes, “Jesus,” 

“Shh,” You murmur, and with your hands braced on his hips, you let the gathered saliva drip from your tongue over his cockhead. 

His cock jumps at the sensation, and Yunho’s hand sweeps up to take your saliva and work it down Seonghwa’s shaft as lubricant. You spit again, and once again Yunho catches it and pumps his hand up and down. 

“Baby,” You say softly, almost lazily, pressing a featherlight kiss to his velvet tip, “can I have a taste?” 

He fights the urge to jerk his hips and he nods. 

You lean forward, and Yunho slides his hand away so you can work your mouth deeply over him. Seonghwa might want to take it slow with you, but you don’t want to take it slow with him. You know they’re just being careful with you, considerate and lovely given the baby, but there’s nothing you want less than to take it slow right now. 

You surge forward, taking him down your throat in one move, your tongue dragging along the underside of his shaft until you’re pressed against his pubic bone and steadying your breathing. 

Seonghwa’s cock jumps in your mouth and he curses, hand tight in your hair now. 

“Oh, she’s hungry,” Yunho teases, “look at her,” 

“I’m looking,” Seonghwa’s voice is breathy, “God, darling, warn me next time,” 

You make a negative noise, and he groans at the vibration. You don’t warn him, when you draw back and sink forward again and then set a pace, your wet lips tight on his cock, tongue flicking at his length, hollowing out your cheeks to draw that suction you know makes him crumble. 

“Fuck,” His hand locks onto your scalp and you moan around him. 

“Does that feel good?” Yunho’s voice is husky above you, “I can give you more,” 

You suck hard and Seonghwa groans and you know whatever combination of your mouth on his cock and Yunho’s hands doing something has Seonghwa ready to melt. 

“Mess,” Yunho groans, “you and your pretty fucking mouth,” 

Seonghwa shudders. 

You pull back, taking a heaving breath and clearing your throat before you find your voice, “Fuck my face,” 

Seonghwa moans and you look up to see the way that Yunho’s teeth are attached to his husband’s throat, fingers expertly tweaking at his nipples and helping make the man a shaky mess. At you words, Yunho lifts up and moves right back to Seonghwa’s ear, “Don’t make her wait,” 

There’s a flicker of hesitation in his eyes, and you’re about to tell him that being pregnant does not in fact make you a virginal saint and he can and should come down your throat, but he reaches the same conclusion a second later and tugs you forward by the hand in your hair. 

“I didn’t say stop,” He says gruffly, pushing your head back towards him. 

You open your mouth wide and accept him with a deeply genuine sigh. 

“Your mouth,” Seonghwa thrusts forwards, knocking his hips against your lips and forcing your throat open, “is almost better than your pretty pussy,” 

You whine, breathing slow through your nose and opening up the back of your throat more for him. 

“Almost as tight,” His hips find a rhythm, “almost as warm,” 

“Almost as wet,” You feel another hand in your hair, Yunho brushing the hair from your eyes. 

“But I only get to hear you like this when I’m down your throat,” Seonghwa pants, bucking his hips as he holds you perfectly still to accept him, “I’m in love with this sound,” 

You choke a whine, trying again to regain your breath, and you’re dizzy but he’s so, so close. 

Yunho’s hand finds yours and he gives you a squeeze, an offered lifeline if it gets to be too much, but you don’t need it. You brush your thumb along his knuckles to let him know you’re more than fine, despite the heady, wet noises in the room. 

“Oh, fuck,” Seonghwa curses as his pace stammers a moment, and you double down with the suction, “fuck, darling,” 

“Fill her pretty mouth,” Yunho urges him, “come,” 

It takes two more thrusts before he groans, locking your head to his pelvis and spilling himself deeply down the back of your throat, so far you barely taste him. 

You give him a moment, but when you’re sure he’s done and just holding you in the afterglow you squeeze Yunho’s hand. 

“Come here,” Yunho must indicate something to Seonghwa, because he pulls out of your mouth slowly and takes a step back. Yunho drops into your eyeline and finds your gaze, “okay?” 

You swallow hard, clearing your throat and nodding, “Mhm,” 

“That was,” Seonghwa trails off, no words really enough to justify the orgasm he just had but he leans against the side table and exhales heavily. 

“Really hot?” You offer. 

He chuckles, “Yeah,” 

As you steady you see immediately that Yunho is rock hard again and you smile, “Are we ever going to get out of this bed?” 

“I have a better idea,” Yunho grins, and he moves forwards and wraps his arms around you. 

“What-” You start to ask, but then he’s hauling you up over his shoulder and you’re falling apart into hysterical laughter, “Where are we going? Put me down!”

“Nope,” He says, “I’ve got more plans for you,” 

Seonghwa follows you both, and then you realize the shower was never turned off. The bathroom is full of hot steam, enveloping all of you the minute Seonghwa shuts the door. 

“We’re multitasking,” Yunho slides you off his shoulder to the floor, kissing your cheek as he does and reaching in to check the temperature. 

Seonghwa wraps his arms around you, hand closing over your belly as he nuzzles your head, “Good, because I have plans too,” 

They have you again in the shower, Seonghwa on his knees between your thighs, and then once more braced against the glass doors. It’s insatiable, your need for each other, even after all these years. You’ve shared everything with them, every inch of your body and desires. Not a single moment of it worth trading away. 

It takes time to come out of your hazy morning, every time you think of pulling away something brings you back. Their lips, hands, tongues, cocks. Every part and piece of them. 

But eventually, after what feels like hours, you’re clean and dry and changing the sheets. 

You only have a little more time before Dasom comes home and your life changes once again forever, so you slip back into bed with them for just a little while longer. 

Seonghwa strokes your stomach slowly, lips on your cheek as he does and kissing the corner of your mouth, “I think it’s a girl,” 

“Yeah?” You murmur, Yunho curling closer behind your back so that you’re all tighter together. 

“Mhm,” Seonghwa smiles, “I have a feeling.” 

“You thought Dasom was a boy,” You point out softly. 

“No,” He shakes his head, “I know it this time,” 

“Do you want another girl?” You murmur. 

“I think so,” He confesses, “it just feels right,” 

“You know,” Yunho kisses your shoulder softly, “I think you’re right, I think it’s a girl,” 

“I don’t want you to be disappointed if it’s a boy,” You find his hand between you, threading your fingers together. 

“Nothing about our baby could disappoint me,” His brows knit together as he shakes his head, “girl, boy, Yunho’s… mine, it… none of it matters, it’s just a feeling,” 

“You really mean that,” You smile softly. 

“I really do,” He nods, “no matter what, they’ll be so loved,” 

Yunho’s breath catches in your ear, and you can’t quite see his face but he reaches past you and cups Seonghwa’s face, his thumb stroking along his husband’s cheek, “Oh, yeobo,” he sighs, “of course they will.” 

You duck into Seonghwa’s chest, pressing a kiss to his skin, “You have so much love to give, Hwa,”

His warm hand on your belly is a comforting weight, grounding and sure and he nods against your hair. 

“Dasom will be home soon,” Yunho murmurs, and you can hear his voice is tight and shaky, “we probably shouldn’t be crying messes when she gets here,” 

“I’m not crying,” You grin against Seonghwa’s chest. 

“Me either,” 

“Right,” Yunho takes a deep breath, “fine, I can’t be crying when she gets home then.” 

“Aw,” You twist in his arms to face him, cupping his cheek, “baby,” 

“Don’t,” He scrubs at his eyes, “you know I cry at everything,” 

Seonghwa laughs, snuggling closer, “We know,” 

“I’m just,” He sighs, “fuck, I’m really happy,” 

“Me too,” You kiss him softly. 

Seonghwa nods, “Me too,” 

“Sometimes I think about the night we met,” Yunho smiles, pushing your hair behind your ear and glancing over your shoulder at Seonghwa who makes a soft humming noise of recognition. 

“Yeah?” You cup his cheek. 

“We almost left you there,” Yunho confesses, “did I ever tell you that?” 

“No,” You study his eyes. 

“We were watching you for a little while,” He strokes your neck softly, “and I said we shouldn’t bother you. You looked ready for a date, I was sure whoever the guy was was just running late. You looked… beautiful, I thought there was no way someone would let you just sit there all night.” 

“You’ve never told me that,” You shake your head, “are you serious?” 

“Mhm,” He nods, and then his eyes travel up to Seonghwa, “but then he said, ‘What’s the worst that happens? We buy a pretty girl a drink and go home?’” 

The idea that they would have left, there at the end of the bar one second and gone the next. Interesting strangers and a passing thought in your whole life. 

“So you changed your mind?” You manage. 

“It would have been the worst mistake of my life,” Yunho says. 

“Our lives,” Seonghwa corrects. 

“Mine too,” You tug them closer, wrapping them tight around you, “and I wouldn’t have even known it,” 

Your phone buzzes on the side table and you smile, it’s probably close to that time. Dasom would be ancy to come home and at the end of Nari’s good graces. You shift to get up, but they tug you right back down. 

“Five more minutes,” Yunho shakes his head. 

“But,” You start to say. 

“Just five,” He repeats. 

For a little longer, it’s just the three of you. Tucked between them, you imagine the life you might have had without them. You would have found someone, you might have had children with them. You might have bought a house or moved out of Seoul. You would probably be happy, in that other life in that other place, you might be happy it’s not impossible. But it wouldn’t be this. Full, complete, whole. You might in some other life be a wife, but not their wife. You might in some other life have a child, but not Dasom. Not this new life. You can’t conceive of it. You’re sure you would have figured it out, but you can’t really imagine how without them. 

Your phone rings again on the nightstand, and slowly you unfold yourself from their arms to pick it up. Yunho slips his hand under the hem of your shirt while you talk to Nari, Seonghwa presses warm kisses across your neck. Not long now. 

The day stretches into itself until the afternoon sun warms your sheets and your skin. The door downstairs opens and you hear your daughter's fast footfalls on the stairs. Your stomach turns with nervous butterflies, but your husbands hold you close and the wing beats calm to a subtle flutter. You think maybe they’re not butterflies, maybe they’re something more. In an excited rush Dasom pushes through the door and throws herself up on the bed. Strong arms catch her and bring her in to cuddle close. She’s home, and now you all are too, together always.