#remember more of the beginning before the show and im HAVING . A MOMENT.

[transannabeth]

im trying to be normal i promise!!!!! however do you remember how i keep moaning about not being about to go back to grad school for literature because i want to talk about books 24/7 but not do anything else? um.

[naniwatig3r]

CONTOUR LINES (18+)

Mingyu x artstudent!Femreader

Summary: You’ve finally broken up with your boyfriend Mingyu. Ignoring him has been hard, but you were finally at peace. But he had other plans, as he shows up to the figure drawing class you T.A…. And as the model.

Warnings: Unexplained breakup (im lazy lol), angst, cute fluff sometimes, art school stress, public nudity, public unprotected penetrative sex (no one is around though!), quickie

a/n: this was a idea i got while messing around with my friend who has a thing for mingyu, lol.

Word count: uhhh, around 7k ? I can’t remember 😅

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Another miss call.

Great, you thought, the tenth missed call from your ex boyfriend Mingyu this week.

It’s been about a month since you broke up with your ex, Kim Mingyu. It was an odd pairing in the first place. You met him coincidentally in the quad the beginning of the year, as you sat at the edge of the school fountain. Your sketchbook open, as you drew the scenery and people around you. A normal activity you did as an arts student.

You were clearly in the zone, drawing the fold in a random college student’s arm, before a voice interrupted your thoughts.

“Whoa, you can draw.”

Your eyes snap up, seeing a towering figure, completely blocking your view. No shit, you thought.

“Yeah, I guess.” You say plainly, hoping your short answer would deter this guy. But then the sunlight is back on the page you’re drawing, and you feel his warm presence sit right next to you. Maybe he’s just sitting down to sit down, so you try and finish your life drawing of the current student, but they were gone. Probably going to their next class.

Huffing, you still for a moment to put your pencil down.

“I wish I could draw like that,” You hear, as you glance to your side. Furrowing your eyebrows in irritation as the man leans over to stare directly into your sketchbook. “You’re a really good drawer.” He says in awe.

“Yeah, uh, thanks.” You say curtly, as he continues to stare at your sketches like he’s at a museum. These sketches were nothing compared to a Degas or something, yet he stared at them like it was, his brown eyes flickering around in interest.

He clears his throat, as he looks up to meet your eyes. He smiles, a toothy one where you notice how sharp his canines were. Cute.

He pulls his sleeve up from his wrist to his elbow, holding his large hand out, “Mingyu. Kim Mingyu.” He says, introducing himself. You nod, reluctantly shaking his hand, his grip tight and strong.

“Y/n.” You say back shortly, eyeing him, wondering how long this tall man was going to bother you.

He lets go of your hand, as he adjusts his position to turn more towards you. One leg over the other, leaning forward. His bangs falling so perfectly across his eyebrow, that it made you narrow your eyes. It’s crazy, people like this seriously exist huh?

“Do you do art or something?” No shit.

You nod, “Yeah, I’m a fine arts major.” You respond, giving him a strained polite smile. It felt like you had to, the way this guy has been beaming at you like a puppy as you give the driest replies.

He grins, “Whoa, no way. Thats cool,” He praises, “I’m—“

The rest of the meet cute didn’t matter.

After this, you kept bumping into him, coincidence you thought at first, but thinking back… he had no reason to be near the art school area of the campus.

He always asked to see your sketchbook, or whatever was in your portfolio folder as you tried to get to your studio. Even helping you carry your supplies and folders inside, and once he learned where you worked he came with iced coffee when he could.

At 3 am, he’d lay on the floor of your messy studio, watching you as you mix another color on your palette. Your sweatshirt pushed to your elbows, paint on your hands and face as you work on the gigantic canvas for your final.

“You don’t have to be here, you know,” You say a bit softly, your eyes tired despite your multiple energy drinks. “It must be boring to watch me throw paint for the last few hours.”

He shakes his head, sitting up as he looks at you with his puppy like eyes. “No, I like it. You’re so focused…” He trails, “I didn’t think art would be this hard.”

You glare at him for that remark, making him immediately tread back. His mouth gaping open and closing like a fish, “Ah! Not like that it’s easy — just that you’re so passionate you know?” He explains, throwing his hands around.

Rolling your eyes, you put your brush back into the muddy cup of water. “Why? Engineering not doing it for you?” You ask lazily, as you pull your claw clip out of your hair. Massaging your scalp from the tension.

Mingyu’s eyes focused on you, his cheeks slightly flushing. Eyes roving over how strands of your hair effortlessly frame your face. He clears his throat, “Uh, no. I like it. I’ve always been good at studying, and I get the material so,” He says, as he scratches his head.

“But I guess, it’s different watching you. Your eyes are different when you’re drawing, painting, sculpting. Whatever.” He says quietly.

“Different?” You muse, standing up to stretch your legs. Mingyu following instinctively, his tall frame dwarfing you.

He nods, “Mhm, yeah. I thought art was just a major for people who didn’t want to do anything, but getting to know you…” he says, as he follows you to your studio table. As you open the most recent energy drink you got from the vending machine. “You just don’t stop. Like you’re meant to do it.” He breathes.

His genuine words make you raise an eyebrow, turning to him. You give him a small smile, making his heart rate jump. “Yeah? It’s like you, I think.” You say, taking a sip of that battery acid of a drink. “I’ve just been doing this since forever. Natural to keep going.” You say nonchalantly, but Mingyu looks at you like you’re a living genius.

“Thats whats so cool,” He gushes, “You’re just made to do this.” He says, as he glances at your current work in progress. A large canvas with pleasing colors, his eye being drawn to the right areas. The beautifully rendered figure, framed with all the right strokes.

He looks back at you, with such an adoration you think it’s hallucinations from doing so many allnighters.

“Ah,” he starts, as he moves his long legs to shuffle through his bag, pulling out some tupperware. “I forgot, I was making uh, some dinner earlier and I had leftovers.” He lies, knowing full well he made it for you. He turns around, opening the tupperware to reveal a lunch box of different side dishes and protein. It could rival any meal inspo on pinterest, as he even carefully cut out seaweed to make cute faces.

You snicker, making Mingyu’s cheeks pink. “Leftovers huh?” You say, as you grab the lunchbox from him. Your fingers brushing over his, a welcome warmth from the cold air conditioning of the studio. “Thanks, I appreciate it. I was just gonna make some ramen.”

“Yeah no problem,” He strains, smiling. “You need energy to keep on going right? At least eat well if you’re gonna sacrifice your sleep.”

You take a bite, and even though it was cold, you nod in approval at the taste. The annoyingly large man could cook. Your reaction makes Mingyu grin, as you can see shamelessly how much that did to his ego.

“Still, you should go you know?” You say, as you remember Mingyu talking about his week a few days ago as you painted. “Don’t you have an exam tomorrow?”

Oh? He doesn’t focus on the fact that you’re asking him to go. Only that you remembered his schedule. He grins, “You remembered huh?”

You roll your eyes, “Of course I did. You told me.” You say, your own cheeks reddening from how embarrassed you felt from Mingyu’s reaction. Why was he so excited?

He shakes his head, “It’s fine, I was reviewing earlier. It’s in the afternoon anyways.”

You finish the lunchbox, washing it down with your energy drink before going to pick up a new large paint brush. “Fine by me then,” you sigh, not bothering to argue with him. It was weird the first time he accompanied you on an allnighter, but Mingyu’s presence became a normal occurrence since then.

And there he was, sitting obediently like a dog next to you as you continued painting. Your playlist ending hours ago, as the only sounds are the strokes of your brush, and the breathing of both of you.

It was like this for a while, until near the end of the year. This time, you were running out of steam.

Maybe it was all the all nighters the whole year, or the fact you got sick right before finals, but you were stuck in your studio once more. Slaving away as you work on your third painting of the night, trying to get your exhibition finished before sunlight.

You hear the sound of the door opening. He had his own key now — you copied one at one point since he always was knocking. Mingyu coming in with late night take out in one hand, clad in grey sweatpants and a hoodie, ready to tackle the night with you.

You don’t even bother looking behind you, his familiar presence and cologne already telling you who it is. “Hey,” He says softly, putting the food down as he notices your tired state. It was like you were running on fumes, the amount of empty redbulls and monsters around your studio telling him all he needed to know.

You grunt, “Yeah, hey.” You say tiredly, as you wipe your face with the back of your hand. Paint smearing on your cheek. Mingyu comes over with a napkin from the takeout container, huffing as he wipes your cheek with it.

“Whens the last time you took a break?” He asks, a bit worried. Despite hanging out with you for so long, he wouldn’t say he knew anything about art. But he knew you. And the way your wrist movements against the canvas were sluggish, and the way your eyebrows furrowed as the strokes didn’t land and look the way you wanted… he knew you were at your limit.

“Doesn’t matter, I have another painting after this.” You say roughly, “Fuck, I’m such an idiot. I should have painted when I was sick. At least worked on the concepts and colors so I didn’t have to figure it out right now.” You rant, sucking your bottom lip into your teeth.

Mingyu frowns, “No, y/n. What about a fifteen minute break? I got burgers, it’ll help.” He says, but your face isn’t budging, like the strict deadlines for the paintings.

You curse, “God, Mingyu, I can’t stop. All the fucking pieces look like shit, if I stall any longer I’ll never finish this ass of an exhibition.” You say shakily, as you haphazardly throw your brush into the water cup, the muddy water splashing out. You grab another brush to pick up a new color.

He looks around the 10 other pieces littered around the room drying, he doesn’t get it, and he never would. They all looked great, cohesive despite your protests. “Y/n, they look great. You gotta take a break you know? Maybe it’ll help. Maybe your eyes will like, reset or something. You’ve been looking at this painting for hours.” He says, trying to reason.

You don’t listen, as you flick your wrist harshly to create a quick line of color.

clack!

You wince, dropping your brush to clatter on the floor. Your wrist acting up at the worst time, as you curse under your breath. Mingyu’s hands go up instinctively to hold your wrist, holding it still.

“God, now my wrist is flaring up too. Great, just what I need!” You curse bitterly, your head down.

Mingyu holds your wrist gently, despite your angry state you don’t push him away as he gingerly inspects your wrist. “Hey, come on. Lets take a break, and then we can wrap your hand alright?” He says softly, trying to coax you.

He leans down to see your hidden face, and it breaks his heart. Hot tears welling in your eyes from stress, frustration, and the impending deadline.

He doesn’t think twice, leaning down to hold you into an embrace, pulling you off your stool into his arms. Tight, the tips of your shoes barely grazing the floor. You can’t help but cry into his shoulder, “God, why am I so bad? I can’t show anyone any of this,” You sob, as Mingyu rubs your back. His grip tightening around you, holding you close as you basically collapse into his arms.

“Hey, y/n, you’ve just been working too long. Lets take a break alright? It’ll look better once you rest your eyes a bit, I promise.” He coos, “I’ve got some burgers and sweet potato fries, even convinced them to give me extra —“

“Mingyu, why are you always here?” You ask bluntly, choking back your tears. Through the whole year you’ve been tolerating him getting closer. First, random conversations when you bumped into each other on campus, then visiting the art school, coming to your studio, staying to keep you company. You never once tried to push him away, but you didn’t understand how he hasn’t been turned off yet. Your all nighters, your insecurities, the way you reject his invitations to campus parties and events to work. It was all a mystery, especially as you crash out in his arms, over some acrylic and oil on canvas. This must look pathetic to him.

His eyes are a bit panicked at the question, “I uh, do you not want me to be?” He asks reluctantly, still holding you close.

You sniff, your hand against his chest, gripping the fabric of his hoodie into your fist.

“No, I just... Thank you.” You say quietly into his chest, and Mingyu felt his head spin. You could definitely hear it, he thought, the way his heart was pounding out his chest. How you relied on him, telling him to stay. If it wasn’t for the fact you were leaning on him to stay up, he’d probably melt into a puddle on the floor.

Mingyu takes you to the table, helping you sit down on one of the comfier chairs. A foldable one with a pillow he brought at one point, so he could watch you comfortably. He boasted once — y/n look! Found this by the dumpster!

You let out a deep sigh as you sit down, Mingyu bending down to his knees to look at you eye level. A hand to your cheek as you close your eyes tiredly. “Hey, you okay?” He asks, searching your face.

You nod, “Yeah, um, sorry,” You sigh, “I’m just — I’m just stressed. I didn’t mean to have a breakdown in front of you.” You say apologetically, embarrassed by it. But he shakes his head, not affected by it. In fact, it probably caused him to fall harder, seeing how hard you work.

“Don’t apologize,” He says, pushing strands of your hair back. You look up at him, straight into his brown eyes. The way he looks at you so fondly, worried, that his bottom lip juts out slightly as he observes you. The way his fingers felt along your cheek, how he’s warmed you up in the cold room, brought takeout for you.

Fuck, how his hair is tousled under the hood, and the fact his face was a sight for sore eyes after looking at your paintings all day. Something with actual 3d planes staring at you, instead of flat canvas. Maybe it was the all nighters, the fact you’re on multiple energy drinks on an empty stomach, or that Mingyu is there for you.

You lean forward, shutting your eyes shut as you push your lips against his.

It’s warm, soft… might even get lost in it if—

You pull back after a second, as you see Mingyu’s wide eyes.

Oh fuck, did you read this wrong? Shit, at least you can blame it on lack of sleep—

A pair of lips crash into yours again, this time, you part yours as Mingyu’s warm lips mold into yours. Its warm, and comforting and everything nice, as you grab his collar to pull him closer. Making him stumble forward as he holds onto the edge of the chair to steady himself close to you.

You let out a soft breath as Mingyu snakes his free hand around to the small or your back, pushing you close as possible to him. Mingyu compensating for your lack of energy with his, as he kisses you deeply, something he’s always wanted to do. Every since he watched you draw random people at that campus fountain.

He pulls back as you pathetically try to chase his lips, as he kisses you chastely before speaking. “Y/n,” He breathes, “Fuck, you don’t know how long I wanted to do that.” He confesses, as he holds your face in his large hands.

You smile softly, “Mingyu, I—“

The box of charcoals clatter, as you accidentally drop it right next to the table of supplies. Sheepishly you bow at the students in class, not meaning to disrupt their focus.

You bend down to pick up the charcoal. What are you doing? It may be the third figure drawing class today, but dropping a box of pencils as you recount your days with Mingyu was horrible. Terrible.

Especially when you boasted to one of your friends as you shared a meal, Ah, Kim Mingyu? Thats over. Lets just focus on grad review.

You sigh, standing back up as you slide the box of art supplies on the table. Checking the time, you slide the notifications of Mingyu’s missed calls away. It was five minutes before class started, where the hell was the model?

And as if on cue, the other T.A. comes skitting towards you, pushing her glasses up as she avoids the boxes of supplies around the room. “Ah, Y/n—“ She starts, talking quietly to not cause alarm.

She stops in front of you, as you furrow your brows. Today the professor wasn’t in. As the consistent T.A., she trusted you to handle today with no substitutes. It wasn’t anything hard. You just helped set up the drawing horses and supplies, adjusted the lights and made sure the models were comfortable. It was easier especially when another T.A. was assigned to assist you today.

“Hm? What?” You ask, as you dust your hands.

She takes a deep breath, “Um, well, the model got food poisoning.” She starts. Leaning in so other students didn’t hear. “I just learned this right now, she’s like in the bathroom in the main hall throwing up like crazy.”

You frown, “What? Is she okay?” You say, straightening up, walking towards the front door grabbing your jacket off one of the stray art horse chairs.

She follows clumsily, “She’s fine! But she can’t model for this class. I know you’re in charge, but I panicked and just called whoever was on the emergency model list.”

You stop, causing the other T.A. to bump into your back, with a little squeak. A small what should have been insignificant memory flooding back.

“You’re TAing now? Seriously?” Mingyu asks lightly, as he fiddles with a loose strand of your sweater, the rough pads of his fingers pulling on it.

You slap his hand away disapprovingly, causing him to pout. “Yeah, just for figure drawing. I want to make a little money anyways, but working at the campus cafe is too time consuming.” You respond, as you continue to draw in your sketchbook. Outlining the foliage in front of you with your pen.

“Hm, what would that mean?” He asks, leaning forward to wrap an arm around your shoulder. Careful not to disturb your drawing, as he rests his chin on your closer shoulder. Watching you draw was his favorite past time nowadays.

“Just like, setting up, taking care of the figure drawing models. Things like that.” You respond absentmindedly.

“Models? Like, thats a job?” He asks, making you crack a smile. You forget how normal people knew nothing about art. You’re just glad he was openminded about basically everything.

You turn to look at him, “Yeah, the school hires people to pose for drawing. Its for studying.” You respond, as you tap your pen against the tip of his nose, where his beloved mole resided. Making him scrunch his nose, the corners of his lips turning up.

“Actually, I should write the emergency contact list. The professor updates every semester of models to contact if theres no shows, and the et cetera. I should just do it now so I don’t forget —“

“Add me on there then.”

You blink.

“Huh, what?” You say confused, looking at him with raised brows.

He straightens up, “You heard me. Add my number to that list. It sounds interesting,” He defends, his tone light.

You shake your head, smiling. “Mingyu, you don’t get it. You have to stand there naked, and do different poses every five to thirty minutes. Its not an easy thing to do.” You say, dismissing his words as nonsense. Sometimes he was too eager to try things just because they existed in your world.

Mingyu doesn’t falter. “Yeah I know. I just, it sounds cool. Also having a bunch of people drawing me, I don’t know… sounds nice. Also its like emergency contact right?” He says shrugging, “It’s not like it’ll actually happen. I know you’d never call me if it was an emergency, but just add me on it. If all models decide they’re not feeling it that day.” He suggests lightly.

You stare at him still in disbelief, narrowing your eyes. He scoffs, leaning forward to lean his forehead against yours as a challenge. A little goofy smile on his face, “What? Come on. Just add me to the list.”

The rational side of you knew this would never actually happen. Mingyu had no qualifications, and besides, there was a dozen other numbers to call before him. So you suck it up, sighing, writing his name down. Just for the sake that he’d shut up about it.

“Okay, fine.”

Your heart beats, eyes wide as you try to calm yourself. You didn’t want to release your anger against this girl for trying to fix the situation. It was your fault, really, in the first place to put his number on there. But this never was something that has happened before.

“Which number picked up?” You ask calmly, clasping your hands together as you focus on not exploding on your fellow T.A.

“Uh, just called the first one. He said he was on campus so he was down, and we only have five minutes till class—“

“Jesus, his name please?”

“Kim Mingyu.”

Oh fuck. Fuuuucckkkkk.

Mouth wide, and panicked eyes, you start to speak, before you hear the opening of the classroom door. You turn, and your face practically goes pale.

There he was — Kim Mingyu, just in a simple coat and pants. His eyes immediately landing on you. Its only been a month, but he cut his hair. Slightly shorter than you remember, as you tilt your head.

Stop it. You have to act normal.

You take a deep breath, trying to act professional. There was no time to question why the hell he’d even pick up and walk all the way here. Or why your heart was beating so fast, just looking at him.

“Um, escort him to the dressing room area.” You start, prying your eyes from Mingyu to the other T.A. “There should be a clean robe there too.” You inform, patting her arm as you beeline straight away from them.

You find a haphazardly stacked amount of newsprint, focusing on making all the edges match as you calm your heart. It’s fine, it really is.

For some reason Mingyu was interested in figure drawing modeling before. Maybe he just wanted to cross that off his bucket list, and had nothing to do with you.

The other T.A. comes back to stand beside you, “Is he comfortable?” You ask.

“Yeah, he’s fine. Just seems a little inexperienced,” She responds, scratching her cheek. “He asked if he had to take all his clothes off, and I was like, huh? Yeah? But other that that—“

“Yeah, alright.” You interrupt dryly. “Thank you. I’ll just take over after this.” You say, as you grab the timer from the table.

You walk towards the center, clearing your throat as the art students look up. “Right, hi. Professor Kang isn’t here today, but don’t mind. Today will be quite an easy day.” You start, crossing your arms.

Your eyes immediately follow to the ruffle of the dressing curtain, as Mingyu walks out in a fluffy robe. Brown eyes meet yours, and for a second you think this will be fine. Until the corners of his lips turn up, into a toothy grin only you knew so well.

That motherfucker. Bucket list my ass, he said yes just to mess with you!

You turn away sharply, focusing back on the class. “The model today is Kim Mingyu.” You say shortly, before stepping off the small platform.

You gesture for Mingyu to walk to the center, your face stone cold as you watch him step onto the platform.

He clears his throat, “Do I take the robe off now?” He asks cluelessly.

Great, just show everyone you have no clue what you’re doing. If this was a few months ago, it’d be cute. But Mingyu standing hopelessly waiting for instructions was annoying you, to say the least.

You nod, and immediately, he undoes his robe and lets it fall to the floor.

You can’t help but stare. Your lips pressed into a thin line, your body tense. Stop stop stop! You couldn’t give him a reaction. As an artist, it was normal to see naked bodies. It wasn’t a sexual thing, especially in figure drawing. But Mingyu wasn’t just an old man or something. He was a conventionally attractive, tall, well built man. In more places than one.

“Oh shit, he’s hot.” The other T.A. whispers to you, covering her mouth. You bite back your embarrassment, as you just send her a glare for her unprofessional reaction.

It doesn’t help that other people around the room are pleasantly surprised by Mingyu, as I see pink dusting around people’s cheeks. It was infuriating, to say the least.

“Holy shit, a hot model. Is this real?”

“I thought we had a middle aged woman today. Bro… score!”

“I’ve never stared so closely.”

“Alright, warm ups. Ten one minute poses.” You say plainly, holding up the timer and pressing down on it. Immediately, Mingyu nods, springing into action.

His poses were something else. They were a bit awkward, as he stood there. First putting his hands on his hips, staring at the ground.

But he started getting more comfortable. After the ten one minute poses were up, the other T.A. Adds a stool to the platform for Mingyu to sit on.

“One pose, 15 minutes.” You say, setting the timer again.

This time instead of looking at the ground, wall, or ceiling, he stared straight at you. His eyes unwavering. The sight makes your mouth go dry, as the studio lights enhance Mingyu’s features perfectly.

His face framed by the little curl of his bang, light bouncing off his tanned skin as the definition of his muscles are on display. The way his large shoulders balance his proportions, and his skin smooth and tightly wrapped around his toned torso. He always was working out, and it seemed like he kept that up, as your eyes trail from his abs to his bottom half. Your cheeks flushing as he’s so unabashedly bare in front of the whole room.

But it only propelled your anger. How could he? Just step into your domain — the art school wing — and just come here? Posing like a gangly weirdo, riding on his looks so none of the students complained. Staring straight into your eyes as a confrontation. So much it felt like he was telepathically speaking to you.

Why aren’t you returning my calls? Or, how does this make you feel? It was infuriating.

And as if satisfied in your attention on him, he smirks, like he won some imaginary battle. This idiot.

The timer rings, making you flinch against the supply table. Your cheeks flush slightly, as you clear your throat. “Another 6 poses, each 2 minutes.” You manage to choke out, pressing the timer.

As the figure session goes on for the next hour, Mingyu’s confidence was starting to irritate you to no end. At first what was awkward, was now overtly dramatic. His poses of showing off his muscles, flexing his back, it was too much. People were here to draw, not ogle.

You decided to play, not wanting Mingyu to have the upper hand. As Mingyu goes to pick up the robe off the ground, you yell, “Stop right there!”

Mingyu freezes immediately, mainly out of confusion. His eyes drifting to you, a slight furrow of his brows.

“Now, the model will stay still. Do you see how the arm connects to the shoulder blades? Please turn to a new paper and start focusing on that area.” You say, stopping Mingyu in an uncomfortable position in the name of education.

You eye how his leg starts to shake from holding it, but it only fuels you. “Now focus on the thigh muscle, we’ll hold this pose for another 3 minutes.” You say, a little glee seeping into your voice.

Mingyu’s eyes shooting up to glare at you, as you cock your head and smile.

You push Mingyu to do crazy things, like pretending to do a lay up for 10 minutes to talk about line of action. Or when you asked the students to move in closer to draw his face, having twenty people at once hyper fixate on his expression. Now, the class was fun. You completely turned it around.

The timer rings. “Alright, lunch break.” You say, as it’s half way through the 6 hour class.

Theres a collective sigh of relief, as students massage their wrists, and Mingyu putting his robe back on, but loosely. Letting his chest peek out through the fabric, as he walks around the room.

You watch as he circles, smiling and complimenting others.

“Wow, thats really good.”

“Whoa, really love how you drew that one.”

“Is that how I look? I’m flattered! Thanks.”

You huff, looking away as you catch a glimpse of him leaning over a pretty girl’s shoulder as she shows her sketches. Purposefully letting the loose robe drape his exposed chest as he examines the drawings.

Students get up to stretch their bones outside, getting lunch during the break. The other T.A. goes to check on something, leaving only you and Mingyu in the figure drawing room.

You stand, ignoring him as you walk towards the platform, readjusting the power of the studio lights. “Next part of the class is long poses,” You say, twisting the knob. “So it’ll be harsh lights. you just have to sit there, it’ll easy.”

You turn back around, Mingyu looking at you with a small smile, barely a yard away. His hands on his hips, as he looks down at you. “You know,” He drawls, his voice low. “This was a lot more fun than I thought.”

“Is it?” You respond bitterly, “Well I’m glad. Because you’re not gonna be paid for this.” You inform him, as Mingyu isn’t a real model signed with the school.

“Thats okay, I’m getting what I wanted anyways.”

You sigh, as you cross your arms. Deciding not to beat around the bush.

“What are you doing here, Mingyu?” You ask tiredly, finally looking at him straight, your brows furrowed. You boldly looking into his playful eyes.

His smug expression softens, almost reminiscent to how he would look at you before everything. He takes his bottom lip under his teeth, chewing as he looks at you.

“You seriously need me to answer that? Like always?” He says quietly, but with only you two in the studio, he could whisper from across the room and you’d still catch it.

“What, like you actually answer me with anything that makes sense?” You respond back tightly. Sighing, you relax your shoulders, biting your cheek as you glance away from him. A student’s messy pencil case catching your attention, albeit forced.

A deafening silence falls. Mingyu never really liked to fight anyways.

“You’re, you’re difficult, you know that?” He starts, as he ruffles his hair with his hand, as if that would release his pent up frustration. “When I got the random phone call that you guys needed a last minute model, I thought for a second it was intentional.”

He takes a step closer, “But of course not. You looked like you saw a ghost when I walked in.”

You gulp, “Well, to be fair, thats what you are now.” You say quietly. Avoiding his eyes.

“Oh? So I’m just dead to you?”

“No, that would be easier.” You snap, finally looking back to face his eyes. Mingyu’s jaw clenched, his eyebrows knitted, trying to figure you out like an abstract art piece.

He swallows, his adam’s apple bobbing as he lets out a disappointed huff. “y/n.” He starts firmly, in a tone he barely used.

But of course, directed to you, making your skin crawl in the overly air conditioned room.

Hands on his hips, as he takes a long breath, his head facing down as he hides his expression. “For an artist, you’re really shit at expressing your feelings.” He sighs, his bangs hiding whatever you could gather from him.

“Fine.” He concludes, looking up, his shoulders more relaxed. “I’ll stop bothering you about it, since you’re so sure.” He says throwing his arms out. “On one condition.”

You furrow your brows in confusion, wary of whatever condition he was gonna propose. Mingyu could be unpredictable when you pushed him, making the hair at the back of your neck stand.

“Draw me.” He says finally. He glances at the clock on the wall, “They still have that lunch break. So just draw me at least once, before everyone comes back.” He proposes, turning around to walk casually to the platform, as if he’s assuming you would just do it.

Is he serious? You weren’t even together anymore, and yet he wants a free commission from you? Thats crazy, like you’d ever —

“Fine.” You say curtly, “Since you’re so desperate for my attention anyways.” You quip, walking over to the supply table, making sure your shoes stomp against the hard floor. You swipe some spare paper, clipboard, and some charcoal.

The second you were at an art horse in front of Mingyu though, your fire waned slightly. The dead silence of the room was deafening, as you adjust your clipboard. The sound of the metal clips thumping against the paper, the feet of the art horse squeaking as you adjust sitting on the worn wood.

When you gaze up at Mingyu, it was obvious. He really was getting what he wanted, and it was your undivided attention.

Once ready, the charcoal in your hand, Mingyu sits down on the stool, eyes steady on you as he grips the already loose tie around his robe with his large hand. Letting it fall, as he exposes himself once more in the bright lights you set up yourself. He kicks the robe away off the platform, set on you drawing him like this.

You blink back any feelings that threaten to show on your face, readjusting the charcoal in your hand as you avoid Mingyu’s eyes, pressing down to finally start a line.

Its been a while since you last drew figures, and it usually took an hour of continuous drawing before you really found your pace in figure drawing sessions. But it was different this time.

Your heart beats in your ears, a silence of the room highlighting the sound of your charcoal smearing against the newsprint — the sounds of your breathing and of Mingyu’s, as time passes. Agonizingly slowly, yet a focus every artist aches for.

Your hand moves accordingly. Outlining the contour of his silhouette, the way his neck slopes, the soft lines that shape his abs he always was working on. Pressing for pressure with your charcoal as you indicate the weight of him sitting on the stool, hands in his laps loose as you capture his likeness with ease.

But the focus doesn’t last for long, especially when you flicker your eyes back to his. Already flicking a stroke to mimic his right eyelid, before you still. Pressing the tip of your charcoal into the paper, crumbling against the grain as you stare into his large brown eyes.

Fuck. What are you even doing?

Why are you drawing him so intently, when you vowed just a while ago that you never wanted to see Mingyu again?

Your breath hitches, as you raise your arm, flickering back to your drawing. Charcoal in the air, swinging to run a huge line through your figure of him, to smear it, to destroy it, to —

Your wrist stops mid air, as you feel a warm grip tightening around you. Eyes wide, you unfocus on the paper, to look up. Somehow in your tiny melt down Mingyu got down from the platform.

He looks down at you, eyebrows furrowed. Jaw tense, “You were just gonna ruin it, weren’t you?” He asks you quietly.

You can’t help but knit your brows, a pained expression forming that matches the one in his eyes.

The charcoal clatters out of your hand, landing on the floor in broken pieces.

Tears start welling in your eyes, your bottom lip trembling. “You’re right,” You start shakily, “I don’t know… how to address anything unless I’m drawing.” You say weakly.

Mingyu’s eyes soften slightly, swallowing hard as the bright lights highlight the contour of throat bobbing. “Yeah, seems like it.” He replies carefully. You expected him to use this as a told you so, maybe give you a smug smile, like, I knew you weren’t over me.

But Mingyu was never like that anyways. No matter how much he craved your attention, he also wanted your peace of mind. A hard thing to ask from an artist like you.

His grip on your wrist softens, as he kneels down, getting eye level with you as you still sit on the art horse. Holding your hand in his, rubbing a thumb over the veins on the back of your hand gently.

“I miss you.” You finally muster, your eyes focused on his.

“I miss you too.” He responds back, before cracking a small smile.

You strain your brows into a furrow, blinking back the warm tears you naturally formed from the vulnerable moment. A shaky huff also coming out of you, as you decide to lean forward.

Inching your face closer, until the tip of your noses brush, Mingyu stiffening slightly as you shyly graze your lips against his lips. A small breath escaping his lips, fanning over yours before you finally part them.

Your lips against his — it was like home. Finding your way back after such a tumultuous and useless road. The warmth of his lips seeping into you, Mingyu as relieved as you are. His hands finding its way to the sides of your face, pulling you impossibly closer.

It only escalates, as you open your mouth wider to push your tongue against his, making Mingyu groan out as he meets you with similar enthusiasm.

He pulls you forward, off the art horse. Taking you down to the ground, maneuvering you until your back is against the hard floor. Covering you with his large frame, his weight pressing down on you in ways you were having such a hard time admitting you missed.

It was fast, and albeit messy and rushed. Like trying to make up for wasted time as you pull him close, hands wrapped around the back of his neck as your lips go numb, your teeth clashing.

You let out a whine, when Mingyu pulls away with a heavy breath, fighting against your attempts to pull him back for a kiss.

“Y/n — fuck, can we?” He asks hurriedly, his voice breathless. A look of want in his big eyes, but there was also a little responsibility.

First of all — anyone could walk into the studio any second. There was only a lunch break, sure, an hour. But at least half of it has passed.

As you take your bottom lip under your teeth, chewing at your swollen lip as you think. And Mingyu knows exactly what look you were giving him, and he wasn’t going to reject you. Not now.

He leans back in, crashing his lips against yours in a sloppy kiss, breath hot against yours, before moving to your jaw. Leaving open mouthed rushed kisses down your neck, as you move your hands down his back. Feeling the muscles you were forcing yourself to look away from during the whole first half of class.

Touching Mingyu was way better than just drawing him from afar. You’re sure on that.

He moves his hand down, to push your midi skirt up, bunching the fabric to your hips. Your legs exposed to the cold air of the studio, as he wastes no time to slide your panties to the side. Already wet and damp from the heavy making out, and partially to the adrenaline of being in such a risky place.

“Damn, already?” He says, with a slight tease to his voice, making you pinch his arm. He lets out a pained chuckle, before placing his thick fingers against yours core, a gasp escaping your lips.

It helped that he knew you so well already, your legs squirming around the sides of him as he runs his fingers through yours wet folds, his thumb circling your clit as he inserts two fingers in, stretching you out as you gasp, Mingyu attacking your neck with messy kisses as he gets you ready for him.

“Fuck, Gyu,” You whine, your eyes rolling back in pleasure as he curls his fingers, hitting the spongy flesh that makes you arch your back off of the floor.

You weren’t the only one worked up, Mingyu being bare this entire time. His dick pressing up against the inner of your thigh, hardening at the sounds of your pleasure.

Your hand shoots down to grab hold of him, helping him get hard as he lets out a moan, as you tighten your grip. Pumping him a few times, lining him up to you as he removes his hand from your entrance.

You both let out soft gasps as you hold his dick to swipe against you, coating him in your arousal, his tip leaking with precum.

He doesn’t even ask, he just knows, as he pushes in, filling you inch by inch. The friction from your pulled to the side panties, to the tight warm walls of your pussy, making him feel lightheaded with pleasure.

“Fuck, you’re so tight baby,” He breathes, without even adjusting, he ruts into you roughly. Bottoming out as he knocks the wind out of you.

A whine escapes your throat, as you hold tightly around his shoulders, as Mingyu doesn’t slow his pace.

Its rough, its fast, and overall — desperate. The lewd sounds of flesh colliding echoing in the empty studio. Your mind going dumb at his fast pace, only focused on how he goes in, out. In, out.

The smell of his sweat, the way your hands run down his exposed body, all for you. He did this all for you. To get your attention, to get you back. God, does he even know how that makes you feel?

“Fuck, fuck,” He whines, burying his face into the crook of your neck. Already feeling a little fatigued from abusing your pussy so fast. But it was just too good, he missed it so much. So, so much. And he made it evident, as he pushes the back of your thighs higher to your chest, getting deep as he can. And fucking you like his life counted on it.

You feel the familiar build up of your orgasm, your walls tightening as you grip Mingyu’s shoulders. “Gyu, Gyu, I’m —“ You manage to choke out, as he moves his face from your neck to yours. Catching your cry with his mouth, drowning it as he kisses you messily.

You shudder, squirming under him as you feel the familiar high. Your body tingling with sensitivity and pleasure, as he overwhelms you with what can only be love.

He follows soon after, not being able to maintain his mouth to yours as he lets out a shaky grunt. Spilling inside you, his cum warm and filling, making your cheeks flush in contentment and relief.

He slows, stilling as you both catch your breaths. Pulling out of you with a reluctance. Pushing himself up, to lean back to sit. You follow as well, adjusting your skirt back as you push yourself up to your elbows.

Mingyu was a sight, as he always is. His tan skin glowing with a layer of sweat. The way his toned chest rises from catching his breath. The way his bangs are sticking to his forehead, his cheeks flushed with a rush of blood. A satisfied look on his face, as he sighs, licking his bottom lip as he looks at you.

You can’t help but smile, a warm one. As you gather yourself.

“Lets get you cleaned up before the second half. Where did you throw your robe?”

“Oh fuck. I don’t know. You got any other ones?”

[simpjaes]

frontman agenda ― p.js

It’s been so long since he’s seen you, and for a moment he thought he was seeing things like so many times before. Every song has a part of you in it, and now you’re here, looking at him as if he never broke your heart to begin with. Or the one where you and Jay were highschool sweethearts, years after the break up, he’s suddenly seeing you in the crowd at his first ever sold out show. 

minors do not interact. 

WORDCOUNT― 6.2k

PAIRING― frontman ! Jay x afab ex girlfriend reader

CONTENT―  exes to lovers, fluffy shit because im in love, soulmate type shit

WARNINGS― reader is in a different relationship with some unknown character. He’s barely mentions and jay matters more anyway so…infidelity. 

SIDE CHARACTERS― mentions of jake, sunghoon, and heeseung being his fellow band members.

NOTE― probably not that good. jay released that bon jovi cover and i couldn’t help myself. This is VERY FLUFFY AND DOMESTIC AND IT’S BC IM IN LOVE. self indulgent as fuck. 

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

smut tags :: passionate shit, making out, big dick jay, barely any foreplay and that's self explanatory, unprotected sex, pregnancy, DOMESTIC SHIT OK??????????? Actually there’s more fluff than smut but whatever

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

You always supported him. It’s he who didn’t support you, always expecting you to travel with him, to follow him around without worry of your own goals in life. When you got into that big university with an even bigger smile on your face a full year after graduating highschool, he knew it was over. You weren’t willing to bend and change for him, and he certainly wasn’t giving up his dream to sit in classrooms for another four years. Fuck, he hadn’t even considered it.

He just wanted to enjoy that single gap year with you as the two of you tried to match futures.

It was over.

Now he’s made it, somehow. Frontman of a band singing songs about how he’s broken hearts. Jay sits against the plush couch backstage, for the first time in years feeling stage fright solely because this is the first time they’ve made a personal history. 

“We sold out!” He remembers Jake yelling just a week ago, grabbing him into a painful group hug along with the others, and that’s the moment his stomach started flipping. 

It’s real now. They really have fans. They’ve made it. All the hard work paid off after each show, new faces at every show, the small group of familiar faces growing larger and larger. 

They have groupies, they have fans, people love them. 

The couch he’s sitting on doesn’t offer much comfort as he sits here in his own nervous sweat, euphoria and fear bubbling throughout his entire body. As if he hasn’t done dozens of shows by now, this one seems different. 

A full house, a full fucking at-capacity show here to cheer them on, here to see them. God, he’s nervous. Each time he glances at the venue staff, his members, his manager, he forces a smile to hide the feeling of nausea. 

It works up until he’s on that center stage, ruffling his own hair, shaking his hands before plucking the strings, spotlight blinding him, belting his heart out to songs he wrote in his deepest stupors of loneliness. Even when he holds the mic out just to see if people are here as fans, the crowd loves it, proving him right with each missed word of his songs being shouted back at him. 

Hundreds of people all at once singing his lyrics, nodding to Heeseung’s bass line, scrunching their noses with each guitar squeal from Jake, each drum segment from Sunghoon. 

And it feels great, so great that the sick feeling in his stomach doubles out of admiration for the people who gave them a chance, for the people who allowed him to live his own dream. To prove everyone in his life wrong for doubting this.

The venue’s max capacity is only a mere six hundred, but that’s six hundred fans, and those who couldn’t attend spam their social media posts begging to do another show, pleading to come back so they get their chance to attend too. It could be more than six hundred tonight, it could be more than a few thousand by the end of the year. 

They could expand, they could go across the country, maybe even different countries someday. Tonight solidifies that.

They really made it. The next venue will have to be bigger, they’ll have to get a new van, they’ll be able to start staying in hotels instead of that very van when they’re travelling. No more fast food to hold them over, new equipment, maybe they can even get real merch rather than printed T-shirts Sunghoon’s mom worked tirelessly to complete for them. 

And each lyric flows from his throat like honey, no mishaps, no voice breaks. Jay is killing it as his nausea fades away. Heeseung is strumming that bass harder than he ever has, Sunghoon in the back keeping the beat at the perfect deafening pace. Jake and Jay both on guitar, picking up where the other leaves off. It’s a beautiful night.

Everything is good. Leaving his home town was worth it. In the back of his mind, leaving you was worth it. 

Then, mid guitar solo in one of his most emotional, thought provoking songs, that spotlight shifts and he’s looking out in the crowd with sparkling eyes. His confidence is through the roof, his heart is pounding, he can physically feel his music make an impact. The sweat on his brow feels like heaven as it drips down, hearing the screams, loving the energy so much even he could scream.

He tries to remember every face in that crowd, these people who played a part in their first ever sold out show. And he’s doing a good fucking job at it until he looks to the left, two rows from the stage. 

His eyes meet something familiar. Irises he’s stared into before. Cheeks he’s caressed long ago, lips he’s kissed, shoulders he’s massaged.

His heart skips a beat, his fingers fuck up his solo, his breath is caught in his throat. 

You witness the reaction, feeling small in this crowd of people who love the men on stage. With the way they shout, the way they keep their camera out, you can argue that you’re invisible here. You didn’t think he would see you after the first three songs with no eye contact or nods from him, and that comforted you.

But now he’s seen you.

You felt your skin prickle, despite knowing there was a chance he would. It feels a bit awkward, but you lend him a smile, nodding your head to the music that reminds you of all the women he must have had after you. All that heartbreak through lyrics, all that yearning through strums, he must have gotten around. 

If the women in this crowd shouting his name is anything to go by, you wouldn’t blame him for it either. Still, that hurts a little bit. It’s not that you hadn’t moved on or anything. You really did support his dreams until they became unrealistic. You can imagine he must feel powerful now, knowing he’s proved you wrong and you’re witnessing it. 

He was right. He could have made it, and he did. Then again, you weren’t wrong either. You got into your dream university, you graduated top of your class, and you’re working the exact job you wanted, in the exact field, with the exact pay. 

You both made it, and that sense of pride overwhelms any lingering feelings from the past, of guilt, of jealousy. You couldn’t help it when you saw the social media posts being shared between all of your mutual friends. For years you had to forget him, heart broken and still so deeply in love with him, it wasn’t strange that you’d mute his name and block any account advertising for him.

In a way, you pitied him in the first year after you broke up. Before you had blocked him to save yourself the pain, seeing him push and practically beg for people to listen to his music really, really was heartbreaking. You did support him, but you didn’t believe in him. 

You should have. 

That’s why you’re here. You had unblocked him at least a year ago, feeling okay, well established in a different relationship by that point. You saw the flyer being shared all over. So much praise, so many shares on the posts, and…well, the band looked more legit. Jay looked good, a little more grown, fitting the image of a frontman more than he ever had. Even with the smeared eye liner and the hair messier than he used to wear it, he looks like a real rock star now.

The fact that you had to fight for this ticket should have been proof enough, you even showed up hours upon hours before the doors opened to get close enough, and now here you are, realizing that maybe you’d have preferred being in the back.

He’s not just your ex boyfriend. He’s your ex boyfriend that proved you wrong all those years ago. And there he is, right back on track with his song as if he never noticed you in the first place, not glancing at you a second time throughout the rest of the show.

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

“This way.” A staff member of the venue drags you past equipment, down a long hallway. 

You’d argue that this is probably something that is expected with local bands, especially local bands selling out the last small venue, indicating they’re outgrowing it. 

Still, the staff member says nothing more than directions to you as he leads you around, straight to a large room with couches, mirrors, and clothes thrown about. You can barely get your wits about you before you feel a powerful force against your back.

“Holy shit!” Heeseung shouts from behind, wrapping his arms around you tightly before letting you go and spinning you around. “It’s been, what? Four, five years?!” 

You thought you could keep your composure seeing this group of idiots again, remember all those times in the garage laughing and playing games between practice sessions. 

Jake is quick to attack you next, followed by the still, far more calm, Sunghoon. 

Naturally, your assumption is that one of them called for you to be back here. After all, you were tightly woven into this friend group all throughout highschool. The excitement of being together once again booms until Jay walks into the room. 

The room goes quiet as Jake scratches at the back of his neck and looks at you apologetically, noting how you’re still laughing and bright. At first, you hadn’t noticed Jay coming in through the excitement, but when you turn to look at what’s suddenly stressed the atmosphere, you meet his eye again.

He doesn’t look away, he just…waves?

“Right, so–” Sunghoon explains, ushering both Heeseung and Jake toward the door. “We’ve gotta go check on our stuff, you know, make sure the staff isn’t throwing our shit against a wall or something.” 

And then they’re gone.

And now you’re here, alone.

Despite Jay being right there, you feel alone. All those emotions from the day he broke up with you rushing back. Like a love struck teenager, you feel it again. You were here to support them, to show how proud you are of them, not to see Jay again. At least, that’s what you tell yourself.

Nevermind the fact that you didn’t question why you wanted to be here, nevermind the thoughts in the back of your head, excited to see him again. 

“How was the show?” Jay suddenly speaks out, filling the silence with words that feel empty. 

“Good. It was good.” You nod awkwardly. “I knew you guys could do it.”

He looks at you dumbfounded, almost offended. It wouldn’t be right to bring up all those feelings from before, not now. It would seem juvenile, after all, it’s been years. Then again, Jay has never been good at keeping himself in check. 

You still aren’t even looking at him now. In fact, you’re avoiding eye contact as you wander around the room, fiddling with hair brushes and ratty t-shirts hanging on a rack. 

“Did you though?” He questions, throwing himself down on the couch in a huff. “I never expected you to show up at one of our gigs.”

You nod, keeping your eyes to yourself. 

“Of course I did. I always knew you’d put in the effort.” 

You hear him let out a scoff, one so quiet you almost don’t hear it. But it’s familiar. A sound he’d give to you when he knew you were just saving face, when he knew you were feeling guilty. 

“Why’d you come?” He says now, still looking at you. Unable to not look at you, actually. 

You look like you’ve matured so much, wearing an outfit that you would have thrived in back in the day, but you seem almost uncomfortable in it now. God, he remembers how pretty you were when you’d smile at him, when you’d just look at him as if he created the world just for you. 

It’s such a distant memory now, with your prettier lips and prettier eyes. He can’t imagine you’d ever look at him that way again. 

You both really took separate paths. 

He watches you shrug at his question before you turn around, glancing at him only for a moment, before averting your eyes again to busy yourself with something else.

“Seriously, why’d you come if you can’t even look at me?” He snaps now, standing to his feet and coming up to you. He can’t really help it if he’s being honest. It’s kind of a rush to see you again, to have so much to catch up on, so much to bury.

“Why are you here?”

“Didn’t someone call me back?” You argue slightly, forced to meet his eye. 

“I did,” He says your name so sternly. “Do you even know how many times I’ve looked for you in the crowds? Why now?”

You remain silent, guilty almost. You didn’t expect him to question you, better yet be standing in front of you like this claiming to have seeked you out for so long. He’s the one who didn’t want to bend, he’s the one who wouldn’t break for a safe, comfortable life. Not you. You wanted everything with him, everything but instability. 

“Because you were proven wrong?” He almost seethes it out, narrowing his eyes at you. “I always wondered what this day would feel like–”

“Jay,” You swallow hard. “That was so long ago. I just said those things because I was hurt that you were–”

“It doesn’t feel as good as I imagined.” He scoffs, interrupting and ignoring you as you try to speak. “Did you come here expecting to laugh?” 

You shake your head, now, only now, do you really look at him. 

His own breath is caught in his throat when you look at him. There it is. There’s those eyes he used to get lost in. And you look at him as if he isn’t the guy on stage who promises heartbreak and good sex. You look at him like you used to, when you’d study his face before a kiss in the middle of the night, out of breath and glistening with sweat. 

And upon actually looking at him, seeing him grow into that massive head of his, doing what he loves. There’s more shine in his eyes than before, more passion for his music, for life in general. 

And then there’s you in an outfit you had to buy because your closet is filled with business casual attire that will always feel itchy. Your hair, no longer colored or messy, your nose ring removed. Conformed to the very job you dreamed of. 

Did you really dream of it? Of security through desks and excel spreadsheets? Of a boss who doesn’t give two shits about you and co-workers who gossip behind your back? Of that boyfriend of yours who is slowly moving up in the company solely because he gives in to the lap-dog lifestyle for the CEO? 

You own your own home already, Jay probably lives in a rented apartment with the guys. You have a car, a nice job, a boyfriend who makes decent money. Yet, you’re jealous. You’re regretting it.

Have you always been this shallow? Looking down on Jay and his dreams because, at the time, it wasn’t realistic? 

Well, look at the reality now. 

And you don’t have a choice really, as you stare at him. What if you had gone with him? You’d have remained unemployed, no degree in hand, but…would it have been worth it?

You can’t fool yourself into believing it would be. It would have been fun, passionate even. But…what even is passion to you? Sex? The office you sit in day after day? Owning your own home? Your cat? Your boyfriend? The feeling thumping in your veins right now? The way your heart rate spikes when he looks at you? 

“I was wrong.” You say, still looking at him, this time bringing your hands up to grab at his arms. “Is that what you want to hear?” 

He ticks his tongue at you, looking to the floor. 

“I wish it was.” 

You shake your head, unable to lie to yourself, nor him. Tonight was the first time you heard his music since he broke up with you. Even so, no lyric was heard. Even with the hundreds of people shouting them out. You couldn’t hear it, not the guitar riffs, not the drums, the bass, nothing. 

Truthfully, all you could see was Jay. All you could hear was his voice, how even it had gotten, how much skill he had worked to grow. Yet, still, the lyrics were foreign to you.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” He almost laughs now. The audacity for you to show up here, on what should be one of the best nights of his life. The fucking confidence you must have to show up, as if you weren’t proved wrong. As if you have the right. 

To look at him like this and not even put up a fight? To not tell him how you’re doing? How your life is so much better without him? How you’d never have wanted to live this life or see him work tooth and fucking nail for this night. 

As if half of the fucking tracklist wasn’t entirely rooted in the break up. If you had listened, perhaps you’d have been aware that letting him see you again was a dangerous choice. 

He fell in love again. All over again. 

Seeing you in that crowd reminded him so much of the days you’d be the only one in front of them, cheering, dancing, looking at him as if you truly believed in him. For a moment upon seeing you, it was just like practice. He felt like he could fuck up, like you’d run up on stage and kiss him, tell him it would all be okay. That he could try again, that he’d never disappoint his fans even if he tried.

“Maybe, um–” You finally speak up again. “Maybe I should go.”

For just a second, he heard a break in your voice. A sound that used to hurt him too. God, the feeling of being right should be making him feel good, but instead, it hurts. He almost reaches out on instinct. 

He can’t just make you stay, not after approaching you so aggressively. Not after questioning you like this, as if the past still matters. It doesn’t to you, and it shouldn’t to him.

Then again, his job is to process his emotions. Is he so wrong to have continued to hurt? To think of you so often and to write so many songs practically dedicated to you?

You, a woman he barely knows now. 

And it hurts more when you back away, heading towards the door. He knows if you close it behind you, you’ll never show up again. Not for him, not for Jake, for Sunghoon, nor Heeseung. Not for any of them. He’s effectively pushed you out, and for what? 

To be right? To make sure you know he’s hurting? Did he even make that clear?

“Wait.” He rushes up behind you, grabbing you and turning you toward him. 

If being whipped around didn’t give you whiplash, feeling his hands on you definitely did. It shocks you briefly, looking up at him one last time. 

“Just, wait.” He adds, his words now disappearing from his mind entirely. He doesn’t know what to say, or what to do. 

“I–” He pauses again. 

“Jay, it’s fine.” You say softly, trying to wiggle from his grasp and open the door. “I shouldn’t have come.”

And then, your heart sinks. 

“Stop being like this.” He whispers as he tugs you against him, so closely against him that you couldn’t run or break free even if you wanted to. He hugs you so tightly, tighter than the day he broke up with you. Tighter than he knew he could. 

It’s kind of heart breaking, and you only say that because you can physically feel your heart shattering at all that was lost on that fateful day. The day you both walked away and lived your life apart. It could have worked. If either of you had more faith or the ability to co-exist with different careers. 

“You came here to see me, right?” He whispers against your shoulder, hugging you tightly still. 

Silence.

“Right?” 

And you hear his voice shake when he asks it again, as if needing reassurance, as if his hot-headed self didn’t mean to interrogate you. As if he was never angry, or resentful. As if he never made the inevitable choice to leave first. 

Boyfriend be damned. How can you lie now? 

You nod against him, wrapping your arms around his middle and squeezing him just as tightly. 

“You used to read me like a fucking book–” His voice shakes more. “You’re just too stuck-up now to know that I miss you.”

You almost laugh, your own eyes tearing up against him as you just let yourself go. Just this once. 

“It was so long ago–” You try to poke at him with your words, playfully tearful. 

“Too long.”

Oh god. It’s back. All those feelings hitting you like a tsunami wave slamming into a fucking wall. You cry. Happily, you cry. It’s been that long, he’s right. When you think about it, it’s been that long since you’ve felt something so powerful. 

Something so moving. Something only he could make you feel. 

Fuck. 

And when he pulls back, trusting that you won’t run, he looks at you with his hopeful eyes. Fuck, always so hopeful.  Both of you see each other in waves, as if this was a long time coming. 

“Right person, wrong time.” He states as if it’s a fact, closing in on you so quickly you can barely comprehend his words. 

It happens as if something else is controlling your body, and maybe it is. You move naturally, snapping into him like a lost puzzle piece that’s finally been found again. The kiss, so familiar and nostalgic to you that it’s difficult to think straight.

All those nights you had wondered what would happen if you saw him again. You feared the inevitable, but never this. The inevitable to you was becoming a stranger to him, yet…he never let you. Even after years of no contact, he’s always known you. 

There was no question, not even a hint of doubt when you attached your lips to his. This is the mouth that hummed all those pretty words that you couldn’t comprehend, the mouth that you’ve lied about missing. This is Jay, this is the person you thought you could move on from. 

Facing him again is proof enough that you both tried. You both failed to move past that puppy love that seemed so immature. 

You had to leave to grow, arguably he did too. You’re both living your dream, and for years you thought Jay would never be part of it. Yet…here you are, being pulled by him, all the way to the couch where he falls back, holding your face so firmly against his own in a kiss he’d been dreaming about. 

The kiss only grows deeper from here, with you unable to care that you’re on top of him, only wanting more, more, more. Feeling his hands rub up your back prickles your skin, hearing his slight chuckle when he angles his head to lick into your mouth deeper– all of it. It feels right, like this is what you’re supposed to be doing.

“What about now?” He whispers against your lips, caressing your cheek as he pulls back to look at you.

That light in his eye only looks brighter now. 

God, you don’t even know what he’s referring to, nor do you care. You simply lean in again, kissing him harder, hands reaching into his hair and scratching at his nape. 

You’ve missed him, you’ve missed this, you both deprived yourselves of this. No more. No more.

And for a moment, deep in your embrace, you swear you heard the door open, a quick shuffle, the lock turning, and the door slamming closed. But it didn’t matter to you. Who ever saw knows you are more than a fucking groupie, a fucking lay that the front man has probably gotten time and time again. 

Not tonight. Even if only this once, Jay is yours again.

“Never–” Jay breathes, trailing his hand down to hold against your thighs, scooting you closer in his lap. “Never thought you’d come back to me.” 

You didn’t think you would either. 

And he remains silent after this, as you grope and grind like two fucking virgins in love. Messy, fast, entirely tuned into the other every second of the way. You don’t shy away when he lifts your shirt, humming at your body, hugging at it, kissing and licking against it.

Loving you entirely, that’s what he’s doing. Missing you, taking what he can get, obsessed with every passing second. And you can feel the way he yearns under his pants, a thickness that used to be so familiar to you.

You grab at his hair, missing the way he’d let you be the one to always mess it up for him throughout the day. Such a mess he is, such a mess you have become. And you love it, with the kisses always being so sloppy with him. It’s like all these years never passed, and you’ve been with him all this time. 

There’s so many things about him you remember, small things. Scratching the nape of his neck just to get a reaction. 

“You still like this?” You whisper against his breathless lips, tapping and scratching his neck. 

He hums, lost in it. 

“What about you?” He retorts, “You still like my fingers?” 

As he says it, he breaks another boundary, sliding his hand under your skirt just to ghost them over your thighs, just to tease you. In all fairness though, the boundary has already been shattered. The moment you landed on his lap and felt it, you knew your life as it stands would be at risk. 

And it’s not from lust, or being turned on. It has nothing to do with any of that shit. It’s entirely the passion of this act and the sheer lack of it you’ve had since he left. You really tried to fool yourself in thinking your current boyfriend did all the right things with all the right parts of you. Never rubbing your clit for long enough. Never kissing you messily, like he needed you. Never, fucking ever lasting long enough for you to get any enjoyment out of it. Hell, the motherfucker keeps his socks on 80% of the time, and when he doesn’t, you know he may last at least an extra minute. 

Oh my god, you’ve settled for less. And Jay only continues to remind you of that with nothing more than kissing you and barely touching you. 

“Fuck.” You deadpan, dropping your head to his shoulder and stiffening up on his lap. “Jay, I fucked up.” 

He smirks, despite knowing you don’t see it. 

“Did you?” He whispers, running his hands up your thighs now, fully touching, almost guiding you. “What about now?” He repeats his question from before and only now do you recognize what he’s saying. 

“Right person, wrong time.” He said just minutes before this. 

What about now? 

You whimper at the realization. What about now. What about it? He’s asking you so quickly to just uproot your life? Kick your boyfriend out and break up with him? Does he expect you to quit your job? What about your cat? You can’t imagine she’d enjoy life on the road. 

Yet, you nod. Rutting forward as you hide your face further into his shoulder, skewing your head to his neck. 

“You want me to fuck up my life for you now?” You groan, feeling that stiffness under you twitch, yet still, you rut harder. “Just kick him out and move you in?”

Jay pauses, his hands on your thighs loosening their grip. 

“Him?” He tries to skew his own head back to look at you, but you hug at him harder, hiding deeper as you nod with another guilty whimper. 

Somehow though, that…that does something.

You moved on, you’re with someone else. You are fucking living with someone else yet…you’re clinging to him. 

You moved on? Perhaps you tried to. 

Jay’s hands grip against you again, guiding you harder, as if to prove how much he wants to keep you. 

“I did always dream about what it would be like when we’d move in together.” Jay reminisces slightly. “Always pictured my guitar right by your desk, you’d work from home, and I’d piss you off by playing all day for you.” 

Still, you grind on him only now, he feels your lips on his neck. 

“Yes. Kick him out.” 

There’s no pause in your movements, nor in his own as he finally pushes forward, touching the fabric of your panties and cooing out to you, turning his head to inhale your scent, quickly pushing your panties to the side just to feel more. 

“Aw, baby–” He whispers. “This getting you off?” 

Ugh, yeah. It is. 

You’re right here with him, feeling everything at once as his fingers toy with you, as his natural scent fills your nose, the dried sweat on his neck salty and delicious as you taste…and all you can think about is how your life could change. That little fantasy of his rings so loudly in your head.

Coming here tonight is giving you the chance to pick up where you left off, and if your soft moan at feeling his fingers slide into you for the first time is anything to go by, perhaps you’ve already taken that first step. 

You think about what might happen, not feeling guilty in the slightest at what you’re doing right now. Even the thought of coming clean to your boyfriend in your mind doesn’t feel scary to you. Because you don’t love him, you never did. How would this work? Jay travels for shows while you stay at home all alone? 

Couldn’t be much worse than feeling so alone at home even while your boyfriend is there, right? Is Jay even being serious about this, or is this some sort of elaborate plan to show you what you gave up? 

Then, your mind goes blank as he scissors his fingers open, his other arm holding you around the waist as he ruts up himself now. He grunts slightly, hearing the wet sounds of how much you must have missed him too. All those songs he wrote, all that heartbreak, even lyric about fucking, and loving– it was because he hasn’t felt this, and he needed to. 

No matter who he fucked, they never sounded quite as pretty as you. They never felt so warm around his fingers, or so beautifully heavy on top of him. 

And there’s no more words to be had now as his mind goes blank, pulling his fingers from you and bringing both hands straight to your shoulders, forcing your face from his now, very colorful neck. 

“Are we going to do this?” He looks at you, both hands on your cheeks. “I don’t want to let myself do any more if you’re not going to stay this time.” 

There it is.. That’s what you needed to hear.

Such a hard hitting question, but you know better than anyone, you realize, that Jay won’t give up on what he wants. He’ll take no for an answer, but you’ll feel his pain forever. He’s not going to try if you’re not on the same page with him.

What was supposed to just be you watching his band, wondering what could have been in the depths of your brain, has become reconciliation. 

You look back at him, drawing your eyes down to his heaving chest, his thick cock pressing against his pants, the way his arms flex as he holds you here. He appears desperate for an answer, which is…so fucking hot. Then you meet his eye again, that hope you’ve seen in them larger than you’ve ever witnessed. 

You tear up slightly at the death of whatever fucking life you have right now. You’ve always been a mess, pretending you weren’t has done nothing but shelter you under financial forms and shitty sex. 

And look at Jay. Look at this room. He gets to be a mess, he gets to scream and shout all of his emotions, he gets to rip his clothes and wear them proudly. 

Fuck the corduroy blazers, and fuck the boring white socks. 

When you nod, you hear the breath neither of you knew you were holding release, and suddenly…it’s quiet.

Your brain is at ease as he gently pushes you up from his lap, and the way both of you giggle to each other when he lays you back, hand behind your head, other hand on your waist only makes your face feel hot. 

It’s like the first time again, despite the dirty words, and everything he remembered about you comes into play. All those little places against your skin he used to love is being reclaimed by his lips, and he savors it. 

You savor it. Feeling goosebumps raise like spring flowers at each graze of his teeth, his fingertips so gentle yet bruising against your chest. That sound of his zipper being pushed down, the feeling of its weight, the wetness seeping from the tip against your leg as he slides himself up, kissing you.

Really fucking kissing you this time. There’s no urgency, no fear that you’ll break free from it. His tongue is slow and wet, licking into your mouth with pleased little hums, his hips sliding his cock back and forth against your leg, wondering if you’ll still do what you used to.

And you do, reaching down to guide him, your other hand holding your panties to the side just to–

“Oh,” You moan in surprise, feeling him take full control and push in all the way until his abs are flush against your clit. Like he genuinely couldn’t fucking wait to be inside you.

“Jay–” 

He’s holding his breath again, mouth slack against your own open lips. God, it feels so good. 

“Mmf,” He muffles a supposed word against you, licking mid-thought into your mouth as his stomach flips at feeling your pussy clench around him. “My name,” 

You remember. 

“Jay,” You whisper now, holding his bottom lip between your teeth after, remembering that he likes that too. 

The near purr that rumbles from his chest is all you need to hear, and the feeling of his hips now moving, relentlessly is all you need to feel. 

You know Jay, at the core, you know him. And arguably, he knows you too, holding you so lovingly despite fucking so harshly. Missionary was always something you loved before you met your current boyfriend, or, well, ex boyfriend you guess. 

Fully clothed, everything Jay gives to you feels like a harsh, enamouring stab to your soul, and you don’t know how you ever let him go in the first place. 

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

You huff, tearing your blue-light glasses from your face and pinching the bridge of your nose. On your left, sits your asshole of a cat who cannot, or will not stop fucking with your cup of pens. 

And on your right, sits a mess. 

Hair sticking up all over, he hasn’t even put on his clothes yet but he sits sprawled out in that black underwear, guitar in hand. 

You can’t concentrate. 

“Babe,”  Jay groans from his seat, “Baby.” He reiterates. 

You lean back in your chair with a groan, squeezing your eyes shut. 

“You only have two days left and you’re free.”

You nod to him, the stress still bubbling in your gut. He makes enough for all four of you. 

Himself, your cat, you…

You still can’t believe you’ve quit your job, even while knowing he’s not home six months out of the year. He still would call you every night, kept the passion alive through video calls, whispered silent words, sent packages, photos. 

“Few more months and the hiatus will be announced too.” He reassures you. “Don’t work so hard, the baby will come out with a knife or something.”

You chuckle, feeling him come up behind you and rub at your shoulders. You lean back even further, head bumping his chest as you tilt your head up to look at him. 

His eyes are still so hopeful, and thankfully, that’s part of him that never seems to die. 

“Why don’t you go ahead and clock out? I can call the guys over and-“ 

You shake your head, now twirling your chair to hug around his waist. 

“They’ve been more obnoxious since they found out, do you want to stress me out more?”

He smiles down at you, now humming a new tune he’s been working on relentlessly. After all, they need this album finished before his hiatus. Then, he nods.

“Just me and you then?”

Always. Just Jay and you. 

[starmocha]

Hi hello so im back again with a smaaaaaaallllll rant about Colonel Caleb and general's daughter. I just got the ideea and i had, once again, nowhere to rant about it.

Ahham. So....them having their own 'myth' lets say. They were lovers in their past lives(historical maybe the 1800 or the 1900)but couldn't be toghter since she was of lower status then Caleb, him being a Colonel in the army (i love Colonel Caleb so bear with me) and her being a commoner or someting and she dies in his arms and he swears to protect her in their next lives and faith makes sure to have them be of the same 'rank'??? so he could fullfill his promise FUCK MY MIND IS IN RUINS 😭😭😭😭😭😭

I hope i made myself clear if not blame my mind, thank you! Good night! 😭😂❤️❤️

MINA I AM DELIGHTED TO SEE YOU AND YOUR LOVELY AU AGAIN. <333 gosh I wanted to answer this immediately last night, but Caleb’s latest trailer had me losing my mind and things spiraled 😭😭😭

Giving you all of my attention, because EXCUSE ME. WHEELS ARE SPINNING.

Can we…can we just indulge on this a little more? 🥹 omg excuse the slightly heavy Moulin Rouge! influences sprinkled in here, but this is the vibe I am getting, especially for their “tragic” ending.

A Colonel and His Lover

Imagine Colonel Caleb is dragged to a brothel by his associates and superiors. He finds the whole thing disdainful, but is pressured by his own superiors to indulge in a little nightly fun and let loose and forget their duties for a bit.

He doesn’t plan to. He had planned on leaving the moment everyone finds their partners.

Until he sees you.

Literally lust love at first sight.

He’s captivated by your beauty, your wits, and he’s falling hard and fast before he realizes what is happening.

One night with you leaves him yearning for more. He has already remembered how you felt under him, the way you quivered and moaned for him.

He remembers the sweet nothings uttered between the two of you, and though a tiny part in his mind is telling him that you are just a whore who is good with her tongue, he wants to believe that there is something genuine blossoming between the two of you.

He starts going back to the whorehouse more often. Nightly, if he could. He still puts on an act that he was being pressured to tag along, but in reality, all he wants is to see you again. No matter what it takes, what the price, he wants you and only you.

In the beginning, he was just another client. One of those military brutes who only saw you as something that can be bought for and used until they were satisfied.

You did intentionally charm him in the beginning. A false smile, a few sweet words to prickle his male ego, but it soon becomes apparent to you that Caleb is not like all of your previous clients. When he sees you, there is genuine feelings in his eyes, he is truly looking at you for you and not just a body to be used.

You try to discourage your own feelings, reminding yourself of the different classes you belong to. This can never happen—could never happen.

A prestigious colonel on his way to greatness and a common whore? What a joke. It seems almost insulting to entertain such an idea that you could ever truly be his. You quiet those feelings, try to imagine him as any of those other bastards who drag you to bed.

Except you can’t.

Caleb won’t let you. He sees you for you. He wants to know you, the real you, who you have hidden away for years.

You no longer wait for him to come to you as a client. You begin to sneak around whenever you both could, having regular rendezvouses where he is no longer a client or you’re a whore, but two lovers meeting to be together.

After one afternoon delight, you lay with him in an inn bed, tangled in sheets and wrapped in his warmth, and he paints you a beautiful picture of the life you both could have together.

He would buy you all of the beautiful dresses for you to wear, show you off with pride, his equal at his side wherever he goes. Men may still lust after you, their wives green with envy, but to Caleb, he couldn’t care, because he knows you are his and his alone.

You would live in a beautiful house, your days filled with idle contentment and no longer have to worry about anything or want for anything. Caleb promises to provide you with everything you could want and more.

When you tell him, though, that he is all that you want, his cheeks tinge pink, but his smile is layered with joy and also…gratitude? He looks at you like you are his whole world, because that’s just how it is: you are his world now. He had never thought he could cherish someone as much as he cherishes you.

A beautiful life awaits you. He asks you to marry him.

For just a moment, you hesitate, and he is confused. He gently questions you, wondering if you have any doubts about his feelings.

“No! Never!” you tell him, and then reluctantly, you reveal that you could still feel that distance in classes between the two of you. You worry about his reputation, and Caleb seems surprised.

He reassures you there is nothing for you to worry about. He can handle whatever happens, and he promises to keep you safe.

You agree to marry him.

Life continues as normal as the two of you plan to run away and elope. He had promised you an extravagant wedding, but you want him now, already wanting to be his wife and he your husband.

This rosy life you are seeing turns grey in an instant, everything grinding to a halt when you start to display symptoms of an unknown illness. You start coughing up blood more often, your body weakened some days to the point you need to be bedridden. Secretly, you hid everything from Caleb, not wanting him to worry.

Caleb starts wising up, realizing something is wrong when you continue to evade his questions or even outrightly avoid meeting him again.

When a physician reveals to you that you only have less than five months to live, you realize that the dream life Caleb promised you would never come true. Not wanting him to bear the pain of seeing you dying, you start to drive a further wedge between the two of you, consciously doing things to make him hate you so he wouldn’t ever have to feel the pain of losing you.

It works.

You fight with him to the point that you’re both yelling and screaming at one another until he loses control of his anger and drives his fist into a wall, scaring you briefly, having never seen this side of him before. He doesn’t want you to see him like this either, so he leaves, leaving you with these bitter harsh words and some bills tossed at you in spite:

“I have paid for my whore. My debt is paid and she is nothing to me.”

When he is out of sight, you fall to the ground sobbing, angry at yourself for doing a good job of driving him away and making him hate your existence. The man you loved is gone, and though it hurts, you still wish he would find someone to replace you, because you still love him with your whole heart and never want him to be alone like this.

Caleb is angry and it shows. The Colonel has always been very disciplined and strict, but everyone has noticed his temper seemed even more short. There is no leniency with him. You mess up, he will make sure you learn from your mistakes. You talk back to him, and it will be your last words in his presence.

He starts to drink more often, wishing to numb his pain, to forget your fights, to forget you. There is no alcohol in the world strong enough to cure him of this heartache. In spite of everything, he still loves you. He replays the memories often, wondering when everything had gone wrong.

One night as he sits at the bar, on his fifth glass of scotch, he pulls out a ring box, opening it to look at the dainty little ring he had secretly chosen for you. It wasn’t a huge diamond, but still perfectly sized, and he knows it would look beautiful on your finger.

He downs his glass, pays his tab, and stumbles out of the bar. He staggers through the streets disoriented, not even thinking clearly of where he is going.

He finds himself at the brothel again, and he scoffs. He goes in, demanding to see you.

The madame there tries to turn him away. She knows who he is, and also knows of his secret relationship with one her girls. She knows what you two had planned, because you had revealed everything to her and begged her to never let him come near you again—for his sake. Always for his sake. Even as you are dying upstairs, each day, you breathing growing weaker, you still think of him.

Caleb doesn’t take “no” for an answer and in his current drunken state, he is more prone to violence than usual, slurring insults about you in spite. It isn’t until one of the other girls screams out that you were dying, that he freezes, sobering up instantly.

“What…did you say?”

His whole world had stopped. The colors drain from his face, his heart slowing as he replays her words in his mind. The dots start to connect as he remembers all of your final fights, realizing your expressions had always seemed off somehow.

His throat is dry, his limbs rigid as he tries to move. Suddenly, he runs off in a mad dash before anyone could stop him. He rushes up the stairs, passing several rooms, pushing anyone in his way to the side until he finds your room, the door bursting open and he freezes again, not recognizing the frail woman laying in bed under multiple covers as a nurse is tending to her.

Caleb doesn’t leave and rushes to your side, dropping to his knees as he reaches for your hand, begging you to look at him. He apologizes profusely, his eyes glistening with tears.

“Why didn’t you tell me?! Why did you lie to me?! Why, why…why…”

His large hands wrapped around yours, holding it close to his face as he sobs.

“Ca..leb…”

He looks up, seeing you smiling at him weakly.

“I’m here,” he assures you, “I’m here…I’m not leaving…Not again…”

Too weak to fight, too relieved to see him, you let him stay and you close your eyes.

He stays by your side for your remaining days, cherishing the little time you had left.

One afternoon as he watches you sleep, he sits on the edge of the bed, his fingers brushing aside your hair, his eyes heavy with sadness as he realizes how frail and pale you are now compared to who you were months earlier. Quietly, he pulls out the ring box, taking the ring out, and slipping it on your ring finger. It looks perfect on you, just like he had known it would.

When you wake that evening and see the ring, you start to protest, saying it’s wasted on you.

He silences you with a kiss, and once again, he reassures you that nothing he does for you is ever wasted effort. You are his only bride, and no one will ever take your place.

Time dwindles, and he watches you waste away each day, his heart heavy with remorse and anger that he is losing you before his very eyes and there is nothing that he can do to stop this. For all of his strength and glory, Caleb has never felt as weak and helpless as he does now.

He tries to fill your days with as much comfort and happiness as he could.

It was a spring afternoon when he lays in bed with you. He leans back against the headboard, your body resting against his, the cover up to your neck for warmth, but nothing felt more comforting than his own body heat against you.

He tells you stories again and as you listen to him, you wonder why his voice sounds more distant even though he is right here next to you.

Caleb watches, realizing, he has lost you, your body growing colder and unresponsive.

He breaks down crying as a warm spring breeze rustles into the room from the opened balcony door. He holds you close to him and just sobs and curses every deity in the world.

He promises in the next life, he will be a better man and give you what you deserve. In the next life, things will go right. The story of you and him will be rewritten, he swears on his life.

[rafeandonlyrafe]

moonlit beach

words: 1.6k

warnings: 18+ only!, smut, face sitting, p in v sex, unprotected sex, fluff, vacation, proposal, bratty!reader for the first bit lol

you walk over to the boys, already in a bad mood from having to redo your makeup as it kept looking patchy.

you step between the couches, interrupting their conversation as you stop in front of rafe. you place your hand out, looking down at your boyfriend.

“card.” it's not a request, not a question.

“what's wrong baby?” rafe coos, causing kelce to snicker at his pout.

“give me your credit card. im going to buy myself a birthday gift on your dime since you didn't get me anything.” you say, lowering your hand more to get your point across.

“baby, i told you it just got delayed. it will be here friday, i promise.” rafe takes your hand in his, pressing a kiss to your palm. he used to care about showing affection in front of his friends, but not anymore, his focus always solely on you whenever you're in view.

“yeah right.” you roll your eyes. “you forgot. come on, card.”

rafe reaches into his wallet with a sigh. he truly does have plans for your birthday, it just landed on an awkward day of the week for celebrations.

he places the credit card into your hand, watching you turn on your heel without another word.

“dude, just tell her you're taking her to the maldives.” kelce says, topper nodding in agreement.

“that would ruin the point of the surprise.” rafe rolls his eyes. “what, do you also want me to tell her that i bought a diamond ring and that im going to propose to her there?”

“well, guess you'll just have to deal with her being mad at you.” topper shrugs.

“it's alright, i think it's kinda hot.” rafe adjusts his pants not so subtly.

“ew, dude!” topper looks away suddenly while kelce makes a gagging motion.

--

“wake up, princess.” rafe presses kisses along the bridge of your nose until your eyes flutter open. you look happy for a split second before remembering rafe didn't get you anything for your birthday, a frown spreading across your features.

“baby.” rafe coos out, pressing a kiss to your still lips. he's planning to tell you later today so you have time to pack before the flight tomorrow evening, but rafe can't help himself, wanting to get inside of you while you're still pissed at him.

“fuck off, cameron.” you roll over, intending to get more sleep when you feel rafe push himself against you, his morning wood evident in his pants.

“come on baby, i told you ive got a really good gift for tomorrow. don't be mad.” rafe presses kisses to your shoulder, tugging the strap of your pajama shirt down to give him access to more skin.

you hate your traitorous pussy as it floods with wetness. you flip over suddenly, pushing rafe onto his back.

“you're gonna eat me out then im gonna ride you. i don't wanna hear you complain.” you say sternly. it has been a couple days since you slept with rafe on your birthday morning, happy and glowing as he gently thrusted inside of you, muttering how beautiful you are and how much he loves you.

“take those shorts off.” rafe just smirks, watching as you quickly disrobe before crawling on top of rafe. you usually would kiss him, but you bypass his lips to place your cunt down on his face, knees on either side of his head.

rafe grabs your hips, not even giving you a moment to adjust before he pulls you down onto his awaiting mouth.

you let out a moan and reach forward to grip the headboard as rafes tongue snakes through your folds before lapping at your clit.

you press yourself further down onto his face, a mess of juice and spit covering his chin and nose, but rafe couldn't care less, loving the way you take effortless control as your hips rock back and forth.

rafe pushes his tongue into your cunt, feeling the way your walls clench around him. you let out a moan as his nose bumps against your clit as he begins to thrust his tongue in and out. 

as much as you'd like to cum all over his face, you want rafes cock inside of you.

you turn suddenly, crawling down his body with your ass to his face as you pull his pajama pants down to reveal his cock, standing straight up and ready for you.

you position yourself over top, not caring when rafe whines out.

“turn around baby, i wanna see your face.”

you roll your eyes despite him not being able to see, sinking yourself down on his length with a moan.

your hips begin to buck, only focusing on your orgasm as you rub your pussy with the hand not on rafes thigh for support.

you blame having gone without an orgasm for a few days for how quickly you can feel your high building, but clearly rafe isn't far behind as his hips begin to thrust up into you.

his hands reach out to grip your ass as it bounces in front of him, the plush flesh too tempting not to touch.

you let out a growl, pushing yourself to move faster up and down on his cock until your high suddenly breeches and you fall forward into the mattress between his legs with a moan.

rafe moves quickly to his knees, pushing his cock deep inside of you as he cums as well, flooding your pussy.

“im gonna take a shower.” you say, kneeling back up as you look back at rafe. usually you love to allow him to keep his cock buried inside of you after you both cum, but not when you're mad at him.

“alright.” rafe says, sighing when you move away and his cock slips free as you climb off the bed, legs clearly tired from fucking. “just don't take too long, you have to pack.”

your footsteps stop. “pack for what?”

“im taking you to the maldives tomorrow. happy birthday.” the words barely leave rafes mouth before you're turning and jumping back onto the bed, kissing him between mumbles of thank you and how much you love him.

--

“i can't believe i was such a bitch to you and you had this planned the whole time.” you pout, burying your head further into rafes bare chest, rubbing your face against him as a cat trying to mark their scent would.

“baby, it's okay.” rafe coos out, not brave enough to say that he liked it. he likes you like this even more, glowing and happy.

“i love you.” you coo out, looking out onto the ocean, keeping your ear against his chest to hear his heartbeat, your favorite sound in the world.

“i love you too baby.” rafe runs his hand over your back, up until it meets the string of your bikini, then back down until his hands hits your bottoms, then occasionally over that to squeeze your ass. “i know i took you out for a birthday dinner back in the outer banks, but would you allow me to take you out again tonight?”

you pout, nodding quickly. “of course.” you pick your head up to press a kiss to rafes lips.

--

“how did you like the food?” rafe asks. there's really no point in questioning it, your moans every time you took a bite and asking for seconds told him everything.

“so good… can we go back there again tomorrow?” you squeeze rafes hand that's entangled with your own as you walk down the moonlit beach.

“anything you want. this trip is for you.” rafe says, hoping you can't tell that his palm is sweaty as you get closer to the spot he chose, just having to round a bushel of trees to see the lights.

he didn't expect to feel nervous, but with every step his worry builds. what if you say no? rafe knows it's ridiculous, but the small nagging voice in the back of his head is growing louder every minute.

“oh my gosh!” you squeal out as you see the string lights set up on the beach, over wooden slats placed on top of the sand for an even surface. “it's so cute!”

rafe smiles gently, glad he chose a cool color for the twinkling lights to match the moonlight. you change your path to walk around it, but rafe pulls you closer.

“rafe-” you begin to say that you probably shouldn't go onto random peoples set ups on the beach, but he just looks at you with a comforting gaze that would make you go along with anything, trusting him implicitly.

it doesn't hit you until you're under the lights. the realization suddenly sinks in as you look at rafe. he nods gently, like he knows the thoughts running through your mind.

rafe sinks to one knee, confirming your suspicion. he reaches into his pocket and delivers a beautiful speech before showing you the gleaming ring, a speech you are both bound to forget in your excitement and nerves.

“will you marry me?”

“yes!” you don't even wait for rafe to stand up, launching yourself to the ground with him as your arms fly around his shoulders. you managed to hold in tears until this point as you cry into his shoulder.

rafe holds you close, allowing you to feel every emotion in his steady arms.

“come on baby, let's make sure the ring fits.” rafe helps you stand easily before he pulls the ring out of the box, managing to snap it closed when you flung yourself on him so it didn't get lost in the sand.

you hold your hand out, a fresh batch of tears coming as rafe slides the ring onto your finger, hoping the photographers hidden in the treeline got good shots.

“oh my god, we are gonna get married!” you squeal out as it hits you all over again.

“you're gonna be my wife.” rafe smiles as he pulls you in for a kiss.

“im gonna get to call you husband.” tears flood in your eyes as you kiss him again, again, and again.

taglist: @drewstarkeyslut @forstarkey @f4ll-for-you @dilvcv @drudyslut @jjmaybankswifes-blog @rafescokenostril @jjsmarijuana @seeingstarks @angelofcigs @cece45450 @babygorewhore @vanessa-rafesgirl @michelleisheres-blog @outerbankspov @drewstarkeyswifehoe @cutielando @sourkittie @rafeyslove @rafeinterlude @bellbottombaby @deeaardiary @rubixgsworld @wearemadeofstardust0 @leighbronk @starkeysheart @pradabambie @tobesolovelysstuff @alexiskirkland @rafestar @brioffthegrid @juniebugg @magicalyoura @cokepewpsii @mysticallystilinski @luvdella @aerangi @vogueprincess @auryyz @raysmayhem-72 @thestarlithideout @marvelfanfics1recs @rafesgiirl @ditzyzombiesblog @chiaraanatra @tobiaslut @drewsephrry @1aarii1

[certifiedlovergirlsstuff]

a new dawn begins | m.g. x gn!reader

“y/n! i have the best news ever!” mark screamed over the phone, needing to pull it away from the ear for a moment. you smiled to yourself as you replied, “and whats this amazing news that you’re willing to break my eardrums for?”

“okay, uh, actually i gotta show you. it’s super secret, so i’ll be over in like two minutes.” and before you could say anything the line went dead and you just shook your head. as hyper and energetic still since middle school, just less scrapes and bruises now.

a soft tapping caught your ears, it happened two more times in a row before it was followed by, “y/n! open the window!” you were on the second floor without a tree near by. confusion covered your face as your slid the window up to stick your head out the frame and down at mark’s beaming face.

“you can’t get-“ and your sentence died off when mark started hovering above the ground and then all the way up to your window. face to face with you, you were speechless.

“guess who got their powers!” mark whispered with controlled enthusiasm. you knew about his dad being omniman, and marks mentioned in the past that he should develop them too, but holy shit, seeing it in person was so much different.

“can i come in?” mark asked hesitantly. you were still quiet, trying to process the image before you. taking slow steps away from the sill, mark pushed himself in and let his feet his solid ground again. he bit into his bottom lip while watching you.

“surprise. i mean a surprise for both of us, cause i thought i wasn’t ever gonna get them, but i get how it’s a huge surprise for you. i mean you hardly believed me when i told you my dad was a freaking superhero…” mark trailed off, either not knowing what else to say or now nervous by your unannounced reaction. “are-are you mad at-at me?”

that caused you to blink twice and give a quick shake of your head, hands waving in front of you. “of course not. nothing about this makes me angry, also i wouldn’t have the right to be angry about it anyway, im just…processing very slowly.” making your way to your bed and sitting on the edge.

mark stayed near your window, keeping a distance between the both of you at the moment. a hand snuck into the back of his hair while his eyes focused to the floor, “i’m-i’m still me. you know.”

a smile to your lips, “of course you are mark. i-i think it just hit me.” brows pinching in the middle, “you…you have powers. you’ll probably want to go help people and put yourself in danger, and that makes me…it makes me feel nervous.” you admitted.

neither of you said anything for a beat, then mark joined you, the mattress dipping with his added weight. “you know, i don’t think i really thought that far ahead. i just got so excited that i’ll be like my dad, this is something i can join him on. i can bench press like, a whole building. i can fly anywhere in the world.”

you were watching his profile, his eyes sparkling with wonder of new possibilities. then a slight frown appeared on his face, “but you’re right. i’ll want to help people, this feels like a responsibility. i can’t just have these powers and not help.”

“and that’s very brave and selfless of you.” touching his shoulder, “i-i just want you to remember that you’re family and friends, we want to see you alive and happy. if you ever just need a break, there’s other hero’s that can handle it for the day. you don’t need to break yourself to keep everyone else together.”

[suckerforblondeathletes]

Caught in the entrance - Alexia Putellas

Alexia Putellas x reader

Summary: While filming a get ready to me live, your secret girlfriend accidentally makes her presence known.

Warning: Kissing, light cursing.

Authors Note: Heyyy my monthly small fic

"Hey guys I'm going to a special dinner tonight so get ready with me!"

You say to the camera, dressed in a fury robe and a headband pushing your hair back from your face.

You and Alexia had a date tonight to a fancy Mexican restaurant in Barcelona, so you had decided to get ready early to have enough time.

At the moment, she is at a training session with the team, they all know about y'alls relationship, but the public doesn't.

She wanted to keep things quiet and low for now since everyone is watching her for any signs of a lover.

As you finish your makeup you hear the door open and a loud groan coming from the front door. Very quiet though since you are on the second floor getting ready.

You watch the comment come through and make sure no one heard the noise.

"Okay guys I will be back I have to go grab something." You say to your phone before putting your phone on mute and watching as the blonde walks through the door.

"Hola amor." She smiles softly as you walk out of the camera view and go to her, wrapping your arms around her strong neck and her arms going to your waist.

"How was the meeting?" You ask, looking down at her lips and smirking as she speaks.

"Good, Mapi wouldn't stop teasing me though." She smiles and presses her lips onto yours.

Your hands go to her hair and hers tightens around your waist. But you remember you are on live and pull back, making the Catalan pout softly at you.

"Sorry baby but I am on live right now." You say and press a kiss to her pouty lips.

She kisses you once more before leaving and you go back to your phone.

"Hey guys im back!" You say and touch up your lip stick, but you can't help but notice the extreme amount of comments coming in.

You begin to read them and you get confused when you see people talking about Alexia.

You're face goes pale as someone says 'No way they are dating!"

You turn to look at the mirror on the wall, showing a perfect view of the entrance to the bathroom.

"fuck."

[nymphomatique]

special affair

dbf!miguel o’hara x fem!reader

art credit: _insomniac_red_ on ig. pictures are for mood setting, reader has no specific race or physical descriptions.

cw: a lil angsty, this is just shameless smut im sorry guys i don’t know what came over me, daddy kink, dbf!miguel <3, unspecified age gap but reader is legal, rough sex, squirting, unprotected sex, miguel is not a good man, conflicted reader, creampie, lowkey breeding kink, degrading language, choking/breath play, face slapping, spitting, mentions of oral (m), overstimulation, crying/dacryphillia, pubic hair grinding? lmao idk, reader is alluded to being in sub space. not proofread lol. 18+ only.

wc: ~1.5k

❤︎ an: hi my loves!! this is a sorta part two to this drabble, but can be read as a stand alone one shot. tbh i wrote this w my pussy.. i’m ovulating rn i’m so ashamed of myself 😔 nevertheless, enjoy! if you guys want more don’t hesitate to lmk!!

from that first night he fucked you from behind, you knew you strayed too far from the status quo in your life, you’re at the point of no return. that night, when he finished pounding you from behind and defiling you further with his seed all over your back and ass, you had laid in that position— spent and on your stomach- for the rest of the night, silently sobbing. you had betrayed your father, that much you were aware of the day you started rubbing at yourself meekly in the dead of the night thinking about his best friend.

you had long come to terms with that guilt, accepting whatever image of a burning inferno there is in the afterlife. what you cannot come to terms with, is the fact that he- miguel- had actually fucked you, indulged in what you considered your own taboo thoughts, ripping them from page and making your crude thoughts a sick reality. the worst part of this all is that amidst it all, the mental beratement, the nights you spent crying, the sick feeling the memories of miguel’s cock stretching you absolutely thin, showing you a climax like no other— you want to hate yourself for it, for being weak. for being such a bad girl. but you didn’t know why your body decided to betray your brain, the physical craving for the older man’s body possessing you whole. you can’t bear this feeling, holding it up inside you and trying to keep it at bay. fuck- you needed to talk to someone, you had to, even if it’s the last person you want to speak to.

nevertheless, you end up two houses down, sniffling and heaving in the dead of the night, knocking the door as hard as your trembling hands would let you. the door swings open and at the sight of him you keen, your body aching at the sight of the burly muscles covered in sun kissed skin. dark brown hair streaked with grey at the temples. a slight five o’clock shadow, he must not have shaved this morning. and then you look into those eyes, swallowing you up whole and you begin to tear up again. miguel is silent, leaning against the door with messy hair, glazed eyes and clad in boxers, and boxers only. fuck, you shouldn’t have come here.

“I-.. Miguel, it hurts,” you sob quietly, aflame with shame and embarrassment at how little resolve you had. He grabs your face with his warm hands and you’re trembling now, ready for him. your lips ghost for a moment before he breathes out. “i’m not a good man, sweetheart. if you don’t say no, i’m gonna break you.” he sounds sincere with his words and his eyes go stern. you wish you had some self of self control, or maybe having better discernment. but the only thing you say to him only confirms what you already knew about yourself; you’re a terrible fucking person. 

“violate me.”

your lips are smashed against each other, tongues dancing and it feels so good to be in his embrace again. your tears fall down your cheeks, meeting at the junction of your mouths in a pool of saliva. miguel groans and you know why, remembering what he had said to you the last time.

“i like when you cry.”

you’re grabbed up at the hips, legs wrapped around a thick torso, pressed up against a firm chest and a heavy cock. the moments up to the bedroom are cloudy, drunk off his lips against yours. you come to slightly when cold plush sheets hit your back and a pair of lips leave yours. you whine, yearning for his touch again. he looks down at you, bringing your right foot to his mouth, he licks lightly up the sole- kissing the ball of your foot before he leans down, caging your between his elbows, face to face.

“you gonna be good for your daddy?” he asks softly, kissing between the bridge of your nose once. 

“y-yes,” you breathe out with a slow nod. 

“mmm. gonna let me violate this tight little body too?” he asks, still soft in tone and you think you’re gonna go crazy by the end of the night. “yes, daddy,” you murmur, lost in his eyes. 

“sick fucking little girl. but that’s how i like it,” he chuckles, kissing you softly before getting up stripping you bare.

“letting your daddy undress you like a good girl. so obedient f’me,” he coos at you, touching you softly and you’re almost in tears. you need him. and you let it be known. a lone tear falls down your cheek and you mewl, “n-need you to make it better down there, daddy.”

his large hand engulfs you cheek, thumb wiping your tear softly before squishing your face, putting his tear stained thumb in your mouth. “you think you’re a big girl now, hmm? telling your daddy what to do?” you look up at him teary eyed, suckling his thick finger.

“you take what i give you, when i give it to you.” he squeezes you cheek a little harder before softly slapping your cheek and you squeak at the contact. a rough laugh leaves miguel’s mouth at your reaction. “you have no idea how bad i’m gonna treat you, baby.”

you’re non verbal at this point, mouth agape and leaking saliva down your jaw seeping into the sheets and the junction of your neck and chest. a hand slaps your cheek again, you’ve lost how many that is now. “i fucked you stupid already?” miguel laughs, hard thrusts sending you flying up the bed. his hands on your hips bring you down back to him each time, poking you right in that sweet spot in your pussy. you’ve lost count of how many orgasms you’ve head, body wracked and numb with pleasure. throat hoarse from the near-violent throat fuck he gave you.

a glob of spit hits your forehead and you groan a bit. the one thing you’re sure of is that you look a goddamned mess. a crude picture of the activity you’ve been partaking in for the past two hours. a hand leaves your hip to wrap around your neck and squeeze roughly, making you gasp for air, your body finally moving.

“there we go, got you moving now. thought i fucked you to sleep for a second.” 

your eyes are glossy, at the lack of air and building pressure. your hand meekly wraps around his wrist as he fucks into you. you know you shouldn’t like the way he toys with you like this, waking the line of torment and pleasure with no care in the world. but you do. and you can’t deny it anymore.

“you’re tightening up on me again. you gonna cum for me again?” miguel asks you, and he laughs after knowing you can’t even answer him. “sick little girl. you like it when i choke you? make you feel weak? worthless?” 

it’s barely audible, but the moan you let out vibrates in your neck and miguel can feel it with the hand pressed against your throat. he throws his head back with a groan. “nasty, naughty girl. fuck baby, gonna cum in that little pussy.”

you’re almost there, and quite frankly impressed that you haven’t fully passed out yet. your head feels light, and you begin to tremble violently, gushing out spurts of liquid as your head falls to the side. if this is hell, you’re not so sure you could give this up for heaven. your eyes close and you feel so close to falling asleep when he removes his hand from your neck, grabbing your head by the nape of your neck, craning you up to where you can see his thick cock slip and slide between your thighs. you groan at the image. 

“need you awake to see me cum in you, don’t i?” miguel groans. “you like watching me fuck you, like letting me dirty you.”

 his tuft of black pubic hair rubs against yours as his thrusts become increasingly sporadic and intense, and it has you trembling at the stimulation it gives your clit. you weakly squirt each time his pelvis brushes against your clit, your body letting you know you have only so much left in you before you’re drained empty.

“fuck, love it when you wet the bed. my pissy little girl. daddy loves the messes you make.” he’s nearly breathless and you pray he’s going to cum in the next minute, the ache in your neck and dull sensation in your pussy building slowly.

“c-cum in me. wanna give you a baby,” you moan, looking up from the fast thrusts and into miguel’s eyes. 

“fuck! so n-naughty, baby. gonna give me another one, huh? fucking take it, then.” with a final thrust, you feel the warmth of his cum shoot and blossom somewhere deep within you. you moan weakly, one final weak spurt of squirt coming out of you. miguel pulls out and you watch him look at the mess he made of you and your pussy, covered in spit, cum and the beginnings of handprint bruises blossoming on your hips and ass from how hard he gripped and spanked you. 

you can feel his cum slowly trickle out of you, and your body feels like it’s no longer your own. after so many orgasms, your limbs are on fire, and you can do nothing but breathe and weakly murmur a “d-daddy..” while your eyes close.

tags: @realhotgirlshitah @obsessed-with-miguels-ass @maxiethestrange

message me to be removed!

[star-girl69]

New Romantics

Clarisse La Rue x Fem!AphroditeCabin!Reader

—-

sypnosis: you and clarisse meet during a capture the flag game, In A Good Way prequel!!

a/n: IM SO GLAD EVERYONE LIKES MY CLARISSE FIC ☹️☹️☹️☹️ i have so many planned but i just wanted to say thank you all sm!!!! this one is so silly….. i hope you all enjoy!!

LMK IF YOU WANNA BE ON MY CLARISSE TAGLIST!!!!!!

New Romantics - Taylor Swift

warnings: violence, swearing, mentions of death and blood, insane clarisse bc she gets a LITTLE too into capture the flag, protective clarisse obvi i will never write a fic without her showing up, clarisse makes me SWOON if you couldn’t tell, not proofread we get turned into pine trees like thalia over here, tell me if i missed anything!!

—-

Your legs ache. You’ve been at Camp Half Blood all your life, but you just spent the entire school year doing absolutely nothing. It was an adjustment. You’re already being forced into the horrible tradition of capture the flag. You met up with your favorite and best friends Jackie and Tyla at the beginning of summer, and you’ve all been attached to the hip ever since.

The three of you thought you could escape to a random part of the woods and skip out.

It’s not like you were lazy, or couldn’t hold your own in a fight- but you had just taken turns doing each others nails yesterday, and it would be such a shame to see them all smudged and broken.

You were on the red team, so you watched as the incomparable Clarisse La Rue ran around instructing everyone what to do- completely skipping past the three of you. Jackie took it to heart, complaining about how she had lasted two minutes sparring with Clarisse once, and she had no right to label all Aphrodite kids as weak and useless.

You remember the night you finally made it to the crest of camp, blood staining your hands, your satyr protector dead on the ground behind you as some monster you didn’t know the name of chased after you.

The three of you thought maybe a nice walk at the edge of the woods would be nice, when suddenly a squadron of the blue team came running out trying to catch you as prisoners. It wasn’t a rule of the game, but it was generally expected that that the winner had more prisoners, or else the victory just didn’t seem right.

The blue team saw Aphrodite kids as easy targets to pick off.

This felt all too familiar to that stormy light, your pounding heart, looking around as everything crashed around you. One of them even jumped down from the freaking trees, and you screamed at the top of your lungs as all three of you sprinted off into different directions.

There was only one chasing behind you, a Hermes kid you didn’t know the name of, but he was fast on your tail.

Just as you had reached the crest of the hill, you screeched at the top of your lungs as you saw four figures in front of you. A satyr. Two girls. One boy.

“Not another one,” the stayr moaned, before beckoning you towards them. You stayed frozen in place. The monster was big and slow, but you could hear it approach.

The boy held out his hand.

“I promise,” he breathed, locking eyes with the smaller girl, maybe a year or two younger than you, before looking up at the older girl. You could tell she was battle hardened, she was ready to win this. “We’ll all make it to camp.”

Both monsters chasing you let out ear-piercing roars, and you quickly slapped your hand into his and sprinted away.

Thalia, you would later learn her name, didn’t survive that night. But you did. Luke did. Annabeth did.

The three of you will forever be bonded by that, even if you’re on different teams in capture the flag. Gods, you wish it was Luke chasing you right now- but it’s not.

You’ve forgotten everything about swords and fighting in exchange for the Russian Revolution and the Periodic Table. You hate school even more in this moment.

He reaches out towards you and you’re distracted by his hand touching your shoulder, heart pounding in your ears, and you trip right over a root and stumble before falling to the ground.

You faintly see the flash of bronze armor pass you, then you suddenly hear a body slam into the ground. You whip around, only to find a girl wearing a red-tipped helmet on top of the boy chasing you.

“Clarisse!” she shouts. “I got him!”

You breathe heavily, watching at the boy yells and tries to buck her off of him, but you faintly remember seeing her constantly around Clarisse. She must be another Ares kid, which means there’s no way she’s letting this Hermes kid gets away.

Clarisse saunters out of the woods on your left, looking between you and the boy on the ground.

You sit up on your hands, watching it all play out, not able to catch your breath.

She smiles, slow, like a cheshire cat.

Gods, why does she have to look like that? Why does she have to smile like that? Why does she have to make you feel this way?

Why doesn’t she just drop the spear and make out with you?

“So, this is the dummy who thinks it’s funny to chase around Aphrodite kids,” she says, slowing walking turns him. The girl holds up his head so he has to look at Clarisse. She places the end of her spear into the dirt. She leans down in front of him. “Well, I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but the Aphrodite cabin is on the red team, right? Right?”

The girl tugs his head up and he winces, but nods.

“And who captains the red team? Cause I think it’s me, isn’t it?”

He’s learned his lesson. He nods quickly, now.

“I’m feeling nice today. Why don’t you apologize to the pretty girl, and maybe I won’t kill you.”

His eyes lock with yours. He says nothing.

“I said apologize, dumbass.”

He glares at Clarisse.

“You’re fucking insane.”

She laughs a bit. “It’s capture the flag, Zander, why are you not getting a little crazy? Chasing after Aphrodite kids is just embarrassing, honestly.”

“Fine,” he spits. “Fucking fine. I’m sorry.”

“Was that so hard?” she coos. She nods, and the girl let’s him go.

Holy Hades if that wasn’t the hottest thing you’ve ever seen.

He runs straight off into the woods after a moment, when he realizes they’re not gonna chase after him, not now at least.

The other girl turns to you. “You ok?”

“Yeah, yeah,” you dust off your knees. “There’s more of them by the edge, just so you know. Just north of the river.”

The girl smiles. “Gods, yes. Fuckin’ love destroying the Hermes cabin.”

Clarisse turns to you. She tilts her head to the side, watching you breath heavily on the ground. She sticks out your hand. Your grab it quick, scared she might pull away, and her hand is so warm and fits perfectly with yours. She pulls you up and you dust off your knees.

The other girl takes off running, following the boy, yelling for Clarisse to hurry up.

She smiles a bit, and you swear to Zeus her cheeks are a little flushed, you swear she looks at your lips for a second.

She brushes her thumb across her cheek.

“You’ve got some dirt on your face, gorgeous.”

She runs off before you can say anything, electrical spear crackling to life.

Oh, you fucking love capture the flag.

—-

clarisse “you’ve got some dirt on your face, gorgeous” la rue the woman you are

—-

[eomayas]

chasing pavements • hjs

pairing: husband!joshua x wife!reader, parent au

genre: angst, hurt/comfort

synopsis: just reader and joshua being parents

warnings: parental woes, arguments, past childhood trauma, girl-dad!joshua, their child is nameless and is called ‘baby’

a/n: the people asked for dad!shua but nobody said which kind…🤭 anyway this was v random and is very parent-y so beware!

1.

2.

3.

4.

5.

sighing out a deep breath, you open your eyes and try to make your voice as gentle and even as possible. “i’ve asked you to clean up your mess three times now, baby. i’m not going to ask you again,” you stop stirring the spoon in the pot to look over your shoulder at her. she’s busy dragging her crayons over a coloring page, not bothering to look up at you.

“but im not done!” she whines, bottoms lip jutting out with the beginnings of a tantrum. you tense and and blink a few times as she just whines, tiny hand holding the crayon tightly in her hand. she’s not even coloring inside of the lines, just streaking the colors over the sheet haphazardly.

“dinner is almost ready. clean it up,” you voice is stern, tension in your tone rising as well as in your posture. you grip the ladle tightly in your fist, your other hand braced against the kitchen counter. “if i have to ask you again, then-“ the consequence dies on your tongue at the sound of the lock clicking and the front door opening. she gasps and shoots up from the table, loose crayons scattering across the wood floors.

“papa!” she shouts, running down the hall to greet joshua. you close your eyes and push out a breath from your nose. your jaw is tight as you turn back to face the stove. “look at what i got from school today! oh, and you missed seeing soobin today!”

“yeah? what is it?” he’s pressing a kiss to her cheek as he enters the kitchen, making her giggle when he blows raspberry against her skin. joshua sets her down so she can run to her backpack. “hey, baby.” he says, a hand sliding around to your hip and his lips pressing against your jaw in a greeting.

“hey,” you shrug him off of you and turn the burner down to low heat. “uh-uh, you can show daddy after dinner. go clean up,” you say, stopping her short when she comes back with a paper from school clutched in her hands.

that bottom lip juts out again and her eyes dart over to joshua for help. it only frustrates you more, because all three of you know that she has him in her palm. “well- joshua, stop.” you bark, throwing your arm out to the side to push against his abdomen. “go clean up the table so we can eat dinner.” her eyes well up with tears, and you feel like the biggest asshole in the world for making her cry. you remember a brief moment of yourself as a child and being scared each time your father asked you to do something. he never had to ask you or your siblings more than once—you all found out the hard way—and worry that you’re doing the same thing to her.

she huffs and spins around, her walk mopey as she puts her paper back into her bag and starts to slowly pick up the crayons. you feel joshua start, his hand gently pushing yours away as he makes his way over to her. “i’ll help you, princess,” he says and you grit your teeth.

“joshua, stop! i’ve asked her six times now, she needs to listen!” you’re on the brink of snapping, another word out of him or her is very likely to send you over the edge. it’s rough. the day was shitty from the jump, but you didn’t think it would be this bad by the end.

you expect joshua to at least have your back when you put a number on it, he looks over at you before glancing down at your daughter with sad eyes. “y/n, she’s just a baby.”

“goddamnit, joshua! let me do this!”

and then the dam breaks. her wail ripples through you like an electric current, setting off all of the alarms and signals that let you know your daughter is in trouble. except, you put her in this position, and now your heart has sunk to your stomach. joshua hurries to pick her up, cradling her against his chest and smoothing his hand over her hair. you stay rooted at your place by the stove, ignoring the sting in your nose and the newly formed lump in your throat. joshua shushes her softly like he used to when she was much smaller, but she just keeps wailing.

her cries slice through your heart and shred it to pieces. you want to walk over to her and hold her, tell her that you’re sorry, but you don’t think it’ll help. “baby- i’ve got it,” joshua cuts you off this time, cutting his eyes at you as he keeps trying to console her.

it only frustrates you more, and your anger is misplaced when you spit out, “deal with dinner, then. since you’ve got everything,” and storm out of the kitchen, your heels punctuating the end of the conversation. you fly up the stairs and into your bedroom, kicking off your shoes into your closet.

you stand there, in the middle of the walk-in, with your hands on your hips as you take in deep, shuddering breaths. your vision blurs with tears that you don’t let fall, instead blinking them away as you try to regain control over your breathing. her crying face swims through your mind and you almost forget why you’re so upset. almost. but unlucky for her, you’re not as easily swayed like joshua is.

grabbing a sweatshirt and a pair of pants off of their hangers, you quickly undress from your work outfit, and pull onto the much more comfortable clothes. you shove your feet into a pair of sneakers and push out a breath. her cries echo through the house, and you wince at her gasping breaths. it’s muffled, but you can hear joshua trying to calm her down, though whatever he says makes her let out a piercing wail that makes you flinch. it all feels too much; your guilt, her crying, your frustration at the both of them for different things.

you slip out of the bedroom and move as quickly and quietly as you can down the stairs. you force your eyes away from the kitchen and grab your purse off of the accent table in the foyer, and leave the house without a word.

i’m just like my father.

the thought rang through your head the the moment you pulled out of your neighborhood. it almost brought you to tears, but you managed to keep them in again. and you almost turned back, but couldn’t. you have the harrowing realization that the more you fought to be better than him, you ended up a mirror. it makes your stomach flip and turn, but yet you still don’t turn around.

time is a flat circle.

there’s not a place you’re heading for. you’ve just been driving on the back roads for nearly two hours. the sun set a long time ago, and now the sky is dark and unwelcoming. you should go him, you know it, but facing your husband isn’t something you feel up for at the moment.

turning into a dimly lit convenience store parking lot, you pull into a space and out your car in park. you sigh and lean back against the headrest, shutting your eyes and reminding yourself to breathe. you visualize a square and practice the breathing exercise your therapist taught you. in for four, out for four, her voice echoes through your head. it calms down the storm brewing inside of you and brings you back down. that voice in the back of your head, the one telling you that you’re just like your own dad, gets a little quieter.

your phone buzzes in the cup holder, and you pick it up.

joshua: you don’t have to tell me where you are, just lmk that you’re ok.

you: i’m okay.

you gnaw on your bottom lip, deciding that it’s time to go home. it’s past your daughters bedtime now, and you can guarantee that she’s already tucked in and asleep. at least you won’t have to deal with the both of them tonight.

on your way home, you pass a donut shop that is surprisingly open. you stop and quickly run in. the pastries surprisingly look fresh for 8pm, and order half a dozen of your daughters favorite (chocolate with sprinkles, and maple), before heading to the car to make your way home.

the stress of the day starts to weigh on you halfway home. the morning started out rough; joshua had to go into work early, so taking your daughter was your duty. from the moment you woke her up, she was in meltdown mode. you take the blame for rushing a seven year old, but you let her have juice in her lunch instead of the usual water, so you figured that it evened everything out. but then you were late from picking her up from the after school program she sometimes goes to if neither you nor joshua can pick her up, and she whined about it the whole way home. never mind the fact that your workday was filled with hour-long, unnecessary meetings.

you yawn as you pull into your neighborhood and up to your driveway. you stall in the car for a moment, looking at the dark house in front of you, save for the bright porch light. there’s a chance that joshua has gone to bed, but in your heart of hearts you know that he’s waiting up for you. deciding to just deal with your life, you grab the box of donuts and your belongings, and get out of the car.

you quietly make you way into the house, lightly shutting the front door and locking it behind you. just the sight of the kitchen makes you tense, and when you walk in you’re met with a clean kitchen table and floor, no signs of there ever being a previous mess. you put the donuts away in the fridge to keep them fresh.

with a sigh, you exit the kitchen and start up tje stairs, footsteps light just in case the stairs creak. you step into your bedroom with a quiet sigh, and shut the door. the light from the en suite bathroom shines through the cracked door, and you can hear joshua in there. grabbing some pajamas, you pull on a tshirt just as joshua comes into the room. “hey,” he says, voice soft.

“hi,” you tug the shirt over your head and toss your other clothing items into the hamper. he lingers near the bathroom door with his arms crossed over his chest, watching you as you make yourself busy with little things.

“we need to talk about earlier,” joshua says. you don’t look up at him as you apply hand cream.

you take a moment before responding. “okay,” you breathe out, roughly massaging the lotion into your skin. you hear joshua shuffle on the other side of the room.

“you can’t yell at her like that,” joshua says gently. you sit up and stare across the room at a family photo, blinking a few times.

“i know. but i asked her six times to do something, and she still didn’t even do it. you need to let me discipline her,” you say, finally looking over at him. he uncrosses his arms to run a hand through his hair, letting out a sigh as he does.

“she’s just a baby.”

“she’s seven.”

“she’s a little girl, honey,” joshua says, like that changes anything. you two are usually on the same page when it comes to disciplining her, though she doesn’t really get disciplined because she’s an good kid. you thought he’d understand your frustration today, but he doesn’t and you feel like your back is against the wall.

the fight in you is gone, though a flicker or your earlier anger lights inside of you upon hearing him talk. “okay, and i shouldn’t have to tell her to do something six times. she should just do it the first time,” you say, looking at him pointedly. he pokes his tongue in his cheek, and you know he doesn’t agree with you and is holding back whatever he wants to say. “and, i don’t need you to step in when im trying to teach her something. you need to let me parent her.”

“are you implying that i don’t parent her?” he asks, head tilting to the side. you squeeze your eyes shut and swallow the frustrated groan at the back of your throat.

“i’m not implying anything. im telling you that you need to let me teach her things, without interrupting me. because she’s going to think that she can get out of everything if she looks at you,” you say. joshua purses his lips and looks down at his feet, nodding slowly. “you have to stop babying her, joshua.”

asking him to do that is like asking him to recolor the sky: it’s impossible. one look at her and his entire backbone shatters. it’s sweet sometimes, until you need him to enforce some rules.

“fine, alright? but you can’t yell at her like that. you heard how she cried afterwards,” he says, his voice less gentle than before. you blink at him and drag a hand down your face. you’re ready to put this conversation to bed—nothing feels like it’s going to get resolved tonight. “she was scared, baby. remember that night when i met your dad? she had that same look on her face.” your stomach drops at the memory.

the first time you let joshua meet your dad was also the last time he saw him, until your daughter was born. you were in college, and had only been dating joshua for a few months, but you felt so sure about him. he was the first person you felt so sure about, and it scared you, but you felt like in order for joshua to understand you and to love you, he had to meet your dad. he’d met everybody else in your family, but you were putting off him meeting your dad because of how your father is. the night started out fine, everybody was generally getting along with each other and joshua was fitting in. you were on edge, worried that something would happen so much so that you weren’t able to relax. you were running around trying to help your mom with the kitchen, be a good host to joshua, and avoid pissing off your dad.

and then it happened. you can hardly recall the reason now, since you’ve really tried to block it out of your memory, but you forgot a dish, or burned something that he wanted in particular, and he flipped out. you were in your twenties, so you didn’t have a problem standing up for yourself at that point. but because your new boyfriend was there, and it was humiliating that he was yelling at you like that in front of company, all you could do was cry. you begged him to stop with tears streaming down your face, begged him not to say things in front of joshua. he ignored your pleas as they only made him explode. joshua tried standing up for you, but your dad yelled at him too, claimed joshua was ‘disrespecting’ him, and told him to get out.

joshua left but took you with him. he kissed your mom and siblings goodbye, and whisked you out of the house. you were so embarrassed that you could hardly talk through the tears. you expected joshua to break up with you after that, and managed to ask if he was going to leave you. he stayed and proposed to you five months later, and you quietly eloped together, only a few of your friends knowing about it.

“i’m not like him,” you say, throat closing. joshua’s face falls and his features soften as your eyes well up with tears, already moving to walk over to you.

“no, you’re not,” he clarifies, sitting next to you on the bed and pulling you into his chest. you press your fists into your eyes and try to control your breathing while he softly rubs your back. “i’m sorry, i didn’t mean to upset you.” joshua whispers, kissing your head as you tremble in his arms. he keeps his lips pressed to your hair and lets you fight the tears, never once letting go of you.

your eyes ache from pressing against them and you pull your hands away, sniffing and trying to pull yourself away from him. joshua only holds onto you tighter which makes your eyes well up again, and you can’t believe you’ve been brought to tears more times tonight than in the year so far. “i left,” you mumble weakly.

“you came back.”

“but i left.”

joshua pulls back enough to look down at you. you look up at him with sad eyes and he lets go of you to wipe your face. “and you came back. you’re nothing like him, baby. you’re a good mom, a good wife, and you care. you left, but you came back. water under the bridge,” he says, pushing your hair out of your face. you blink tears away as he peers down at you before leaning down to press a soft kiss to your lips.

“i love you. and im sorry,” you murmur, wiping under your eyes.

“i love you too, and we both have things to work on.”

you nod, and let him hold you until you eventually doze off, headache and all. you only wake up in the middle of the night because you’re uncomfortable, and move to your side of the bed. joshua still tugs you back into his chest and the two of you mange to stay that was until the morning.

when you wake, joshua is right behind you. he talks you down when you panic about facing your baby. “does she hate me?” you ask, wiping sleep out of your eyes.

“of course not,” he says, a small frown on his face. you want to tell him to wait until she’s a teenager, but he looks distraught enough at your question, so you just nod.

she’s asleep when you peek in her room, sprawled out on her small bed. you creep over quietly and kneel beside her, gently shaking her shoulder. she wakes up easily, stretching her short limbs before she opens her eyes. “mommy?” she mumbles, rubbing her eyes with a small yawn.

“hi, baby,” you say, smoothing a hand over her head. she looks up at you timidly, and your stomach knots. “did you sleep okay?” she nods and you give her a small smile. “mommy’s sorry, baby. i didn’t mean to yell at you.”

“it’s okay,” she says, sitting up. it’s not, but you’ll take her accepting your apology. “can i have a hug?” her voice is small, and makes you want to cry because she doesn’t have to ask you for that.

“of course, baby,” you say, wrapping yourself around her and pressing a kiss to her cheek. your hold her for awhile, until she starts to struggle against you. “i got you something.” you say once you loosen your hold around her. her eyes light up and you smile, scooping her up and heading downstairs.

you pull the box of donuts out of the fridge snd she gasps when you open the lid. you let her have a whole donut for breakfast, and promise her half of one after dinner. you apologize again, and she tells you that it’s okay again. one day, you’ll let her know that she can’t just say ‘it’s okay’ whenever somebody apologizes, but for now you let it be.

[jacaerysgf]

wrong pick!

Reality tv star!Jacaerys x Reality tv star!Reader | 2.8k wrds

Jace has been paired up with cassandra since the beginning, thinking their bond was pretty strong he felt as though he had nothing to worry about but he was soon proven wrong. and he quickly finds out theres always been someone else in his corner.

too hot to handle!au, fluff, mild angst, confessions, blooming love, first kiss, jace pov, acts of service, she/her prns used for reader, slightly proofread

[its pretty late into the game so they have the watches if you know what im talking abt some things in this fic wont really make sense if you don't know the show, used outer banks characters names cause i was watching it while writing it dont mind me, ive also never watched the show ive only played the games so idk what goes on, im very rusty i havent properly written something in months im sorry if this is lame no taglist cause idk if people care anymore. does anyone even read these authors notes anyway enjoy!]

Being on too hot too handle was turning out to be a lot more fun than Jace had originally expected. He had met someone he truly thought he connected with. or at least he had thought so not even an hour ago but now he was storming away from the outdoor lounge pit with a furious look on his face as Cassandra calls after him.

He’s never been one to break rules, even on a show like this when moneys draining from the pool left and right he doesn’t dare let him be the reason it gets knocked down a couple thousand. When he paired up with Cass he had been worried at first since she had seemed like the sexually driven type but she seemed respectful of the fact he had no intention of breaking any rules. He wanted that money to be able to provide for his family back home so this meant a lot to him. Yet after they had gotten the green light she seemed to be more persistent in her attempts to get them to break the rules and he was not interested in the slightest which pissed her off.

She had come into the bathroom as he had just gotten out of the shower, the two flirted a bit and she had tried to kiss him to which he backed away. He truly didn’t mean anything bad by it but she had took it really poorly and stormed off from him, he tried to calm her down and she just blew up on him. He had realized the two had completely different thoughts about their relationship and she clearly did not like him the way he liked her and he lost it. She didn’t respect him, she could barely even remember the things he had said to her which was more than enough for him.

When she realized he had gotten truly upset with her, which he hadn’t done before, she tried to back peddle but he simply stormed off leaving her to call after him. He wishes he was more thankful she didn’t follow him but a part of him stings that she didn’t even care to come after him. He walks along the beach side until a familiar figure comes into his view and smiles at him. Kiara, one of the original contestants here like him, who quickly paired up with JJ another contestant, and the two had become good friends.

“Heard some yelling all the way over there,, everything good?” He drops down to sit in the sand next to her and sighs. “I don’t know. I think me and Cass are done.” He tries not to get hung up on the fact Kiara doesn’t really seem surprised by the news. Was it obvious to everyone but him they weren’t going to work? She sits quietly for a moment, Trying to put the right words together before she speaks. “Are you upset?”

“I don’t know. I think so? I feel like I should be more upset.” “I’m sorry dude but I don’t even know how you put up with Cassandra so don’t feel bad about not feeling bad.” He turns and glares at her, his mood souring slightly. “She’s not as bad as you all seem to think. she,, can be nice.” Kiara laughs with disbelief and looks at him expectantly, “Sure,, like when?” A soft smile falls on his face as he recalls a moment in particular in mind. “I had been complaing about how my favorite shirt was all wrinkled and she steamed it for me.”

A look of pure confusion crossed her face. “What are you talking about about?” “It was awhile ago I had fucked up my shirt-” She quickly stops him placing her hands on his chest as she fully turns to look at him. “No dude I know what you’re talking about what do you mean Cassandra did that?” Now its his turn to be confused. Kiara full on belly laughs as he tries to understand what’s going on. “Ugh She’s gonna kill me for this but dude it was never Cassandra doing that stuff. Its Y/n. its always been her doing all that shit for you. Got a huge crush on you.”

Jace’s face is unreadable as he attempted to process this information. He had always assumed it was Cass since she was the one he had been complaining to about it to and she always liked doing little things for him without taking credit,,, right? There has been so many little things, little comforts, little actions done for him after he’s complained about it that he’s always just assumed was Cass and his stomach sinks at the idea its never been her. Kiara has no reason to lie to him. She’s your best friend here and he likes to think the two of them are good friends too. There’s no way she would be trying to set you up.

It was all you.

Kiara watches him with an amused expression as he tries to put the pieces together. He quickly stands and Kiara’s face grows into a knowing grin, “See you later!” He barely acknowledges her as he quickly sprints back towards the villa. Kiara looks out towards the ocean and shakes her head, speaking out loud more so for the camera than for herself. “She’s gonna kill me.”

His head is racing, his mind twisted up in knots as he finally arrived back to the villa. He flinches when he sees Cassandra has thrown herself a pit party, some of the other contestant comforting her as she sits and cries into her hands. All heads shoot up when his footsteps hit the pavement. Cassandra perks up and quickly rushes over to him, stopping him when he tries to walk away. “Jacey please lets talk,” “We’re done Cassandra. There’s no need to talk.” Her eyes widen in horror as he tries his best to gently move her out of his way but he stops him, “Please Jacey baby lets not do this to us-” “There is no us.” He spits out before storming past her into the villa house, ignoring the way she’s calling after him.

Jace’s eyes dart frantically around every room he enters until everything goes still once he finally sets his eyes on you. You’re sitting in the lounge pit, JJ on one side and on your other side sat Pope, one of the other contestants. Whatever conversation the three of you were having completely pauses as all eyes had turned towards him. He takes a moment to finally look at you. He’s seen you around often sure but he never had truly stopped to look at you. You're another one of the original contestants just like him. He remembers meeting you on the first day, The bright smile you had on your face, the way you made him a special drink at the bar and sent a wink his way. It had been the best drink he had ever had. He had always thought you were beautiful but right now he couldn’t take his eyes off you.

“Hey dude, you need something?” JJ is the first to speak up, sitting up slightly from his lax sitting position prior and looking at Jace with raised brows. Jace however did not spare him a single glance, his eyes lasered onto you as you attempted to act nonchalant about his presence in the room.

You’re wearing your hair differently today.

“Can we talk?”

Despite not addressing anyone directly everyone knows he’s talking to you. You glance over at pope who shrugs and another glance at JJ who looks equally as bewildered as pope does before nodding lightly and standing to follow Jace out the room. No words are exchanged between the two of you until you reach a private terrace just outside the villa. When he turns to face you you give him an awkward but friendly smile as you attempt to not take this situation too seriously. “Sooo, What's up?” you pop the p at the end and grip your hands tightly together behind your back.

You had just heard him and Cassandra fighting outside everyone did quite frankly. You almost wanted to go run after him but it would be too out of character, too obvious.

“I know it was you.”

Your friendly demeaner falters ever so slightly at his words instead contorting into confusion as you tilt your head at him. “What was me?” He takes that step closer to you and by instinct you lean away from him ever so slightly. “I know it was you who steamed my shirt.” Your face completely falls and he watches your face twitch as you attempt to come back with a statement but he doesn't let you.

“I know you had decided to make skewers that might because I had been complaining about missing my families yearly barbeque this year. I know you were the one who had found my missing t-shirt after I ripped apart the whole house looking for it;” With every claim that leaves his mouth he takes a step towards you he takes the slightly step towards you and you take the smallest step back.

At this point your back at hit the cloudy glass door and he was right in your face. He could hear your heart pounding but he’s sure you could hear his too, to anyone else it would see like you were completely unbothered by his words but he can see the minor glaze in your eyes which tells him everything he needs to know.

Before he can say anything else one more particular memory pops into his mind, he can’t believe he had ever forgotten about this. You go to open your mouth to deny his allegations during his moment of silence, the eye contact and closeness the two of your were sharing was killing you but he quickly stops you.

“And worst of all, I know you were the one who put my name down in the anonymous poll.” When your eyes widen in horror he fights back the grin that grows on his face.

Got you.

It had been about two weeks ago. They had been having a costume party and Kiara had suggested they do a ‘Who’s the hottest?’ anonymous poll, one for the girls and one for the guys. Since the couples had been pretty strong at that point and it was pretty deep into the game it was originally brushed off as a lame idea since everyone would just chose who they were paired with but Kiara managed to convince everyone since two new bombshells had just arrived yesterday.

Everyone had technically been right and most people picked who they were paired up with except one. Jace had two votes. that pretty much killed the night as Cassandra blew up trying to figure out who had voted for jace. She had never suspected you since you were pretty much always paired up with pope and pope had gotten a vote. So she automatically targeted Cleo, one of the new bombshells, who later took the fall for you and claimed she had voted for jace. He never thought anything about it, it was a harmless game. Plus Cleo had come up to him and said she wasn’t really interested she just thought he was hot, so he ended up getting pretty embarrassed by Cassandras outburst but brushed it off as he really caring about him.

He watches you gulp and look down as you try to collect yourself. He can practically see the wheels churning in your head as you attempt to come up with anything to say. Suddenly you look back up at him. your face hardened as you even slightly glare at him. “So what?” His gaze turns into something more affectionate at your admission and your face softens, “Why didn’t you ever say anything?” His hands had come to grab your forearms lightly as his words are let out in a light whisper. You turn your head away from him as you try to ignore his burning gaze into the side of your face. “You’re with Cassandra. I would be the bad guy if I tried to break that up.”

He releases one of his hands to grip the side of your face to turn you back towards him. “I wasn't in the beginning.” Your eyes turn away from him as you mutter something under your breath he can’t understand. He pulls your face towards him and he hears your breath hitch. “You can tell me.”

“She beat me to it.” He blinks rapidly as he doesn’t understand what you mean before his eyes widen in realization. The first retreat had just been completed, you and Cassandra had been deemed the stand outs from it and were given the opportunity to pick one person to go on a date with. Before you could even speak Cassandra picked jace first, he remembers agreeing to the date thinking Cassandra seemed interesting he had never even considered you were planning to ask him as well.

You had ultimately ended up picking pope who happily agreed. He had now realized you simply settled and picked pope because he had already been taken out and everything else seems to fall into place. You and pope aren’t a couple, everyone with eyes knows that the two of you are just really good friends who happen to get paired up together since there's nobody else around for the either of you as everyone is already paired up. And now pope has become infatuated with Cleo leaving you alone for the last two retreats. You had no interest in any of the bombshells that walked into the villa or any of the original contestants because you liked him.

He finds his chest tightening as he takes a deep shuddering breath. “I'm sorry.” You flinch as if he had slapped you and lightly shook your head. “For what?”

“For thanking someone other than you for the things you would do for me. For not knowing it was you,” You are quick to cut him off “You were never meant to know don’t feel sorry.” If anything that makes him feel worse. He breathes as if his throat is constricted. “Why?” You sigh in defeat, your beautiful eyes downdated. “As I said you and Cassandra are a thing and I'm not someone who likes to get between-” “Me and Cassandra are done.”

As your face contorts into something unreadable he pulls you to press your body directly against his. “The things that I had thought were the reasons that made me fall for Cassandra were actually done by you. I have no attachment to Cassandra know that I know its always been you all along. The one I should have been looking for, the one I should have gotten the green light with.” Both of your breathing turns erratic as the tension is palpable between you. “I want to try things with you. I don’t know how everything will turn out but I want to give whatever this is a shot. If you’ll let me.”

He gives you as long as you need to try and compose yourself. He watches as your eyes flicker all over his face for any sense of dishonesty but you can’t find anything because there is none. You can only see the pure affection dripping out of his pores and gulp. Once you open your mouth to speak you are cut off by a familiar light gleaming on his face.

Green.

He manages to contain his shock, despite his declaration he makes no move to close the distance between you and does not speak a single word. You decide words are pointless now as you grip the back of his head and pull him into a deep kiss. He eagerly meets your enusastic kiss and wraps his hands around your waist to hold you close to him. After what feels like eternity the both of you pull away and stare deeply into each others eyes, not even noticing the green light fade away into black.

“Lets give it a try.” The two of grin like giddy children as you press your foreheads together. No more words are needed to be spoken at least for now. He’s sure once the two of you leave the sanctuary of the terrace there's going to be a storm inside the villa but for now he can enjoy the peace and quiet alone with you.

[aemondwhoresworld]

WITH WIRED

pairing: ewan mitchell x fem!reader

summary: in which ewan and y/n doing their first interview as newlywed with wired

words-count: 1,3k

warning: fluff, maybe abit cliché?, use of y/n, ewan and y/n being a newlywed couple, reader is quite sensitive, does not have any specific descriptions about y/n and ewan's appearance.

mae: english is not my first language, i do used google translate a few part in this one-shot. also this is my 2nd fic, im a long time reader but im a new writer, haven’t wrote any long imagines before. please forgive me if there was any mistakes. thank u!! maybe a part 2? idk

ASK | SUBMIT A POST | ARCHIVE

you and ewan had the opportunity to meet each other at a new movie premiere few years ago, at the event ewan participated as the main actor and you were a guest invited by the director of that movie.

at first you were quite hesitant about being the one to make a first move to go over to talk to ewan, people would wonder what was the reason? well of course, because you’re attracted by ewan’s charming appearance, but also by how the way he treated his colleagues, or anyone he met.

and then today, at this moment, you both received an invitation from wired to come here for an interview as newlyweds… yes, ewan and you have been married for 3 months now and both are extremely excited for the upcoming interview

it can be said that since you got married, or to be more precise, since the announced, the news has caused the fan community to react extremely positively, of course, negatively as well. yes but mostly positive

—

and 3… 2… 1… the interview begin, camera start rolling

"hi! this is y/n, y/n mitchell" you introduced yourself with a small smile while looking at the camera, then raised your left hand to show off your wedding ring you were wearing on your ring finger at the same time you look over at ewan, ewan now looked at you with this “husband proud smiley” smile

“and, i’m ewan mitchell, husband of this beautiful woman sitting next to me” ewan introduced himself, and then he repeated the same gesture as you, at this moment you heard a few people behind the camera, giggling and enjoying themselves

“we're here with WIRED, answering the most asked questions on google” ewan continued

“but newlywed edition” you and ewan both said at the same time

then a staff member brought out a large copy, with the questions partially hidden. you were now extremely nervous, then turned to look at him and asked softly.

“are you ready to answer these questions” you asked

“always” said and then ewan smiled slightly

"okay, first question for you my dear" you said and then gently pulled the sticky note off with your hand to make the question appear, then you continued to read

“how did ewan and y/n meet?” you read the question, then looked up at ewan and continued, "hmm, do you remember how we met, husband?" you asked ewan

“how could i forget it, the first time we ever met” ewan said while looking at you smiling, he sat thinking for a moment then he continued

"y/n and i met at this movie premiere, well… i was the main character, actor and she was invited by this great movie director, john, as a friend" ewan said, then used his hand to stroke his chin and continued. “while i was you know doing those interview, i saw her was looking at me so after the premier, we have like a little after party, i was just enjoying myself you know…” he laugh “erm.. and i-i saw this pretty lady slowly walking towards my direction and started conversation with me, and after a few minutes of talking, i thought wow she’s kinda nice to talk to, yeah.. that's… that’s how we met” and now you just sit there and giggled, flashing back all of those memories the first time you met him

“great job husband, it's so surprise to know that you still remember the first time we met, cause you never mention it ever since” you laughed and then continued “you know, to be able to date this guy, ewan mitchell, it's really a journey for me. to be mrs. mitchell is a long way" as you said, you used your thumb to point at ewan. at this time, ewan just looked helpless and shrugged his shoulders

from where you sit, you can clearly see the surprised faces of the staff member behind the camera about the fact that how hard it is to get close to him

“it's your turn” you said as ewan tore lightly to see the next question

“are ewan and y/n expecting?” Both you and ewan seemed quite surprised after hearing this question

“really, is this really the most asked question?” you laughed and giggled, “asked google?! this is crazy” you were extremely surprised by this question

“well y/n and ewan ARE NOT expecting… yet, and if we are, we will definitely announce it and share the joy with you guys so there is no need to ask mr google” you laughed, then you tuck your hair behind your ear

“we are not planning on having baby anytime soon and yes we do talk about it more often now since we’re married, you know we both love to build a family of our own but we both think this is not the right time” ewan said, you nodded with agreement with that ewan said

“next question” you looked at ewan, saying “oh i see this question seems long, it might be quite interesting!”

“the question is, have ewan and y/n ever been in a movie together?” you read the question, then you both looked at each other, you asked ewan “we talked about this a few times, aren’t we?”

“oh we literally talked about it yesterday before bed too…“ ewan chuckled then he continue “even though we have never worked together on any movie before, but we both talk about hoping that in the future we will have the opportunity to work together” ewan explained.

“yea…, there's a funny thing that if we both have the opportunity to be act in the same movie, we’ll both hope to be each other's villains” you laughed then ewan continued.

“you know, it's funny when viewers hear y/n and me's names and they might immediately think we're going to play happy married couple but no, there is not lovey dovey birds”

“but i think it's quite interesting, don't you guys think so too?” you turned to look at the camera in front of you, asking the people whom watching (after this interview video was posted).

“I'll let you answer this last question, baby” you said then let ewan remove the last sticky note to read the last question for today's interview.

“how have ewan and y/n enjoyed their marriage life so far?” ewan continued reading the last question and then he continued to answer

“who would ask this question on Google? how would Google know?” ewan replied

and you both sit there and laugh like an idiot because of how stupid this question is. really, how can Google know what your and ewan's married life is like? You laugh until you cry because of the absurdity of it

“how was it, my husband?” you asked ewan with a curious expression, wonder if he liked married life with you or not, making ewan partly amused and partly pampered, looking towards you, while you sat there patiently waiting his answer

“honestly, i am extremely happy and enjoy this married life with my wife. in short, i’m extremely satisfied, i mean who wouldn't, when you marry the person you love, so do i and especially y/n always makes me feel like i’m the luckiest man is marry to y/n, the woman i love the most" ewan replied a bit shyly because you know he rarely shows affection in front of the camera or in public

“ewan, you're going to make me cry” you smiled and used your hand to gently wipe away the happy tears at the corner of your eyes.

ewan then turned to see you so moved and pulled out a small handkerchief from his pocket and wiped your tears.

“i love you” ewan whispered to you while wipe the tear off your eye but he didn't know that the microphone attached to his shirt caught his all his words.

“i love you too but we have to say goodbye to the audience watching this interview first” you said to ewan and then burst out a small laughed

“and these are all the most asked questions on google” you said with excitement again, turning to look at ewan

“thank you WIRED for inviting us, and see you next time” ewan said “goodbye” both you and ewan raised your hands and waved to the audience

WIRED just made post

liked by y/nmitchell and others

wired #EwanMitchell and #Y/nMitchell Answer Most Asked Question On Google (Newlywed Edition)

Now available on WIRED! check out the link on bio

tagged: y/nmitchell

View comments

user1 cannot believe they haven’t had any movies together. that’s a need

user2 my fav couple

user3 i can feels ewan head over heels for her, like even more than before

user4 his eyes always had this bling bling whenever he look at her

[writingdevil]

hiiii i haven't seen a prompt with smitten and cheated yet and im very curious how ur take on their dynamic would be. could be platonic or romantic though knowing me im definitely partial to shipping them <3

stay awesome and thank you 🫶

(HI PINK! I hope you like this one, because I loved the story you showed me about them and all your thoughts on the ship, so I hope you enjoy this one! You stay awesome as well! 🫶)

Cheated liked to think that he had a pretty good sense for when something was wrong.

Some of the others thought he was just tempermental and a sore loser, but Cheated knew that they didn't understand how he operated-how lucky for him.

Cheated didn't enjoy standing by while others were either pushed aside unfairly, or using dirty tricks to get ahead of others. That's why he always defended Broken and heard Paranoid out, and why he didn't trust Oppy and picked fights with Stubborn. It was all because he wanted everyone to be on the same page as each other, because only then Cheated believe that they can get along.

Cheated didn't like getting angry, believe it or not. He didn't like yelling at something that may not ever change for good, but he found that being loud was the only way to get people to listen to him, to make them understand what the problem was.

But he found that yelling wouldn't solve this problem.

He had been the first person to even know that there was a problem in the first place, and Cheated hadn't even been paying that much attention. It just stood out that much to him.

It was a single moment-barely lasted a second-but Cheated knew something was up the instant it happened.

A group of them had been chatting in the living room, and while Cheated wasn't joining in the conversation, he was still paying attention to the people around him.

He was leaning against a wall, listening to Hero and Contrarian yap about whatever, when his gaze was beginning to drift away, to a small corner in the room that he normally wouldn't have cared about.

But Smitten was in that corner.

Cheated blinked, but Smitten was still there, hugging himself and pressing his back against a corner of the room, a wistful expression on his face as he watched the others in silence.

Cheated straightened up, studying the other more seriously, because that wasn't like Smitten at all.

Smitten was known to be loud and boisterous, his mere presence being able to lift the mood instantly. Being quiet and reserved? Making himself invisible and small? That wasn't the Smitten he knew, not one bit.

But Cheated knew better than to draw attention to it immediately, so he waited, now only half paying attention to the conversation, too busy trying to decipher the sad yearning in Smitten's eyes.

Eventually, the conversation came to a close-of which Smitten hadn't spoken up once- and people started to disperse. The second he saw Smitten begin to sheepishly move away from his little corner, was when Cheated walked up to him, trying to look as normal and not as confused as he could. He most likely failed.

Smitten didn't notice him at first, keeping his head bowed as he walked, and when Cheated put a gentle hand on his elbow, Smitten flinched.

"O-Oh!" Smitten exclaimed in fright, not so subtly moving away from Cheated's hand. "My sweet friend, I didn't see you there!"

Cheated narrowed his eyes at the slight movement, but still tried to keep his voice light and casual as he said, "Sorry, didn't mean to scare you. I just wanted to ask if you were alright."

Smitten blinked at him, as if surprised at Cheated's concern, before he gave him a reassuring smile, waving a hand through the air casually as he said, "Oh, what a silly question, dear. Of course I'm alright."

"Are you sure?" Cheated asked, and he saw the way Smitten's body tensed up, but Cheated couldn't think of how else to go about this. "You were acting a little different than usual. You kinda seemed a bit s-"

"Oh, I just remembered!" Smitten suddenly exclaimed, feathers puffing up in alarm, and Cheated couldn't help but think that they were acting as a barrier against him.

Smitten took a big step back, making sure not to touch Cheated, and blurted out, "I'm supposed to be meeting Skeptic for lunch today, silly me!"

Cheated tried reaching out to him, but Smitten quickly turned to rush out into the hallway, giving Cheated a quick wave and went, "Be seeing you, Cheated!"

Then that was that.

Cheated couldn't do anything but move on with his day, but his dumb brain couldn't get the sight of Smitten looking miserable out of his head all day.

Something was obviously wrong, but Cheated didn't think that it was his place to say anything just yet, not when Smitten was about to visit his brother. Skeptic will sniff out the problem immediately!

-Only in the days that passed, Smitten still looked upset.

It was all that Cheated could focus on anymore. He noticed the way Smitten's smile didn't reach his eyes anymore, his voice was lacking his usual passion and love, and he wasn't talking to anybody.

It was as if Smitten was becoming a shell of himself, and Cheated was felt a fearful knot in his chest each time he glanced at Smitten.

He confronted Skeptic about this, because surely Skeptic had a plan in the works. But when Cheated spoke to him, he said that he hasn't met up with Smitten in the last few days, and that he hadn't noticed that was anything was wrong with him.

Smitten lied? He was hiding something from his brother?

Now Cheated had to get involved, that urge to step in and help growing more and more, but unlike in other cases, where he would demand for justice and fairness and was ready to fight for that-he felt like he couldn't do that with Smitten.

Smitten, at his core, was a soft bird, who only wished to please and shower the others in love. He obviously had his more aggressive moments, but Cheated saw the way those moments disgusted Smitten. He didn't like being driven by hate and anger, and if Cheated confronted him in his usual manner, that might scare Smitten off.

So despite everything Cheated stood for, he decided to be patient and wait, but constantly being on the lookout for any changes in Smitten's behaviour, anything to explain why Smitten was acting this way.

But day after day, all Cheated saw was Smitten distancing himself further from the flock. He just started to shine less, and Cheated was terrified of seeing that light go out fully, for the day that Smitten didn't smile and express his love in the ways that he knew best.

Cheated couldn't understand why, though. What happened to draw out this behaviour in him? Nothing particularly traumatic or devastating has happened in a while, so what was troubling Smitten so much?

Cheated couldn't stand it. Smitten deserved to be happy and to be loved just as much as anyone else, and Cheated refused to let him wither away without telling him that Cheated was here for him.

He wanted to let one of the more gentler ones take the lead, like Skeptic and Hero, but Smitten appeared to have them both fooled into thinking that he was alright, so it was up to Cheated and his loud nature to knock some sense into Smitten.

The very next day, Cheated searched all over the house for Smitten, swearing under his breath for every minute that he couldn't find him.

It was Hunted, that ended up telling him that Smitten had gone on a walk up the hill not far from where they lived.

"Fuck, I hate hills," Cheated muttered under his breath as his legs ached at the steep climb he was forced to go up.

Smitten didn't seem to notice him at first, or if he did, he didn't have the energy to run away from Cheated anymore.

Cheated could imagine what Smitten would've been like in that moment-he would probably make an effort to help Cheated up, maybe talk about how- 'I feel your pain as if it were my own. Allow me to relive you of your suffering.'

He would most likely try to pick up Cheated, and the thought of that made Cheated flush-along with the reminder that he needed to get to the bottom of Smitten's plight.

He groaned loudly once he reached the top, and he saw that Smitten had been idly making a flower crown in his lap. Were flower crowns easy to make or was Cheated just that slow?

He felt Smitten's wary gaze on him as he tried to catch his breath, and the first thing out of his mouth was, "How can you do that walk? Aren't you dying by the time you get up here?"

Smitten wore a blank expression, which honestly creeped Cheated put, and then Smitten tilted his head to the side and spread one perfectly preened wing out and said, "I flew up here. Did you not think to do that?"

Cheated huffed at the question. "Can't, remember?" Cheated flapped his stupid wings that weren't big enough to hold his stupid weight enough to fly. Ridiculous.

"Oh," Smitten said, realisation dawning on his face. "I guess you were dealt a bad hand in that regard."

"I've been dealt a bad hand in everything," Cheated retorted with, before sitting down next to Smitten-who inched slightly away from him.

They sat on top of that hill in silence, and if there wasn't a pressing issue at hand, Cheated would've called the moment quite relaxing.

He bunched his hands into fists and stared out down at their house and softly asked, "What's wrong, Smitten?"

"Nothing's wrong, Cheated."

"That's bull-" Cheated stopped, taking a deep breath before he snapped at Smitten and ruin everything. That could still happen, if he's being honest.

"I've seen you, Smitten," Cheated said. "You're really upset over something, I can tell."

A pause. "You can?"

"Yeah, of course." Cheated twisted to face him fully now. "I can see it clear as day on your face that something's up."

Smitten was staring down at his flower crown as he quietly said, "Nobody else seems to feel that way."

"Yeah, that's because they're not looking for the right thing. I am. I can see what's really going on with people, no matter how hard they try to hide it."

Smitten hummed, twisting the intricate crown of daisy's in his hands, and then asked, "You don't have to concern yourself with looking at me. You won't like what you find."

"What do you mean?" Smitten sighed, lifting his head just enough to gaze down at the house where the rest of their flock resided.

Smitten looked so sorrowful as he said, "All I've ever wanted was to let others know how much I adore them, that I would devote myself to them no matter the cost."

"Okay?" Cheated said, cringing at how rude it came out. "What's the matter with that?"

Smitten didn't immediately answer, instead placing the flower crown on the ground between the two of them so that he could tuck his knees up under his chin.

"The problem is that I hurt people with my love," Smitten revealed, his trembling voice on the verge of a whisper. He took a shaky breath in, blinking furiously up at the sky, then continued, "My love for others does nothing but harm them. I did it to our beloved princess, and I did it to the Long Quiet."

Smitten glared up with a viciousness that Cheated wasn't used to seeing in him. "My love is just a poison that infects everyone around me, and I refuse to hurt people anymore."

That's why he had been avoiding touching people, and not bringing as much attention to himself. He was afraid of getting too close and letting himself lose control with passion.

Cheated gazed at Smitten in sympathy, and no matter how hard the other tried to spin it, the only thing that was clear to Cheated was that Smitten was so lonely now.

He was literally depriving himself of properly being with the people he loved, making himself miserable all for the sake of them.

The thought made something twist within Cheated.

"Well," Cheated slowly said, glaring at the grass below him, "what about us, then?"

"You're all better off without me-"

"No, what about our love?"

Cheated watched in satisfaction, as Smitten's face scrunched up in confusion, before he finally looked at Cheated.

"How come you're the only one that's considered dangerous, huh? You don't think we're fucked up enough to do something crazy?"

"What?" Smitten blurted out, bafflement all over over his face. "I am trying to keep you safe from me-"

"Then who's gonna keep us safe from when Stubborn goes mad? Or when Hunted goes feral? Why do you have to be considered more dangerous than the rest of us?"

Smitten's jaw was hanging open, and Cheated could practically see him frantically trying to come up with an argument.

"How is it fair," Cheated snapped, leaning in closer to Smitten and glaring at him, "to think that we can't hurt you just as much as you could hurt us? Why do you need to be punished while we get to live our lives without any fear?"

"I am trying not to hurt you with my love!" Smitten exclaimed indignantly. "Well don't," Cheated retorted, "because that's a stupid fucking argument." Smitten looked appalled, as if in disbelief at the way Cheated was talking to him.

Cheated gave him a serious look and said, "We could all hurt each other-badly. But that doesn't stop us from loving each other, and it definitely shouldn't stop you, because I could tell that you were fucking miserable."

Smitten was staring at him more softly now, less shocked and more surprised.

Cheated instinctively clutched at the grass beneath them, sighing heavily, and then said with a rising blush, "You're always saying that love is the greatest force in the world or whatever, but that goes two ways as well. We love you Smitten, and our love for each other is definitely stronger than whatever demons you've got inside you."

Cheated averted his eyes, staring down at the flower crown instead. "I know I'm not the best person for you to talk to, that I'm too rough with my words where you deserve someone soft to help you. But I'm not gonna just sit around while you torture yourself."

Cheated then delicately picked up the flower crown with a soft smile, admiring its beautiful and the person behind it, and then gently placed it atop Smitten's head, who was completely stunned into silence.

"You deserve to be protected too," Cheated softly said, watching the way Smitten's eyes slowly lit up with that light that he had missed so much.

They sat there like that for a few seconds, as Cheated gave Smitten time to process his words. He couldn't tell what Smitten was feeling-all he knew was that Smitten was staring off into the distance, and more and more life returned to his face, until Cheated felt like he had made his point.

He turned away from Smitten, rubbing the back of of his neck and going, "Well, I'll leave you alone and stop spewing curses at you." He started to stand up, saying at the same time, "Sorry if I came off a little rude-"

But he froze at the feeling of Smitten grabbing his arm.

Cheated froze, letting Smitten drag him back down beside him so that he could cuddle into his side, and Cheated's brain was stuck in that moment, too busy focusing on the warmth that he had missed so much from the other bird.

Then Smitten placed a soft kiss to his cheek, and Cheated truly was done for in that moment.

"It was perfect," Smitten whispered, and then he rested his head against Cheated's shoulder. "You were absolutely perfect for me."

[simpjaes]

Frontman Agenda  ― P.JS

It’s been so long since he’s seen you, and for a moment he thought he was seeing things like so many times before. Every song has a part of you in it, and now you’re here, looking at him as if he never broke your heart to begin with. Or the one where you and Jay were highschool sweethearts, years after the break up, he’s suddenly seeing you in the crowd at his first ever sold out show. 

minors do not interact. 

WORDCOUNT― 6.2k

PAIRING― frontman ! jay x afab ex girlfriend reader

CONTENT―  exes to lovers, fluffy shit because im in love, soulmate type shit, smut

WARNINGS― reader is in a different relationship with some unknown character. He’s barely mentions and jay matters more anyway so…infidelity. 

SIDE CHARACTERS― mentions of jake, sunghoon, and heeseung being his fellow band members.

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

✧ now available on patreon.

✧ public release date: April 19, 2025.

✧ ask to be on my tag list!

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

teaser: 1.1k

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

“How was the show?” Jay suddenly speaks out, filling the silence with words that feel empty. 

“Good. It was good.” You nod awkwardly. “I knew you guys could do it.”

He looks at you dumbfounded, almost offended. It wouldn’t be right to bring up all those feelings from before, not now. It would seem juvenile, after all, it’s been years. Then again, Jay has never been good at keeping himself in check. 

You still aren’t even looking at him now. In fact, you’re avoiding eye contact as you wander around the room, fiddling with hair brushes and ratty t-shirts hanging on a rack. 

“Did you though?” He questions, throwing himself down on the couch in a huff. “I never expected you to show up at one of our gigs.”

You nod, keeping your eyes to yourself. 

“Of course I did. I always knew you’d put in the effort.” 

You hear him let out a scoff, one so quiet you almost don’t hear it. But it’s familiar. A sound he’d give to you when he knew you were just saving face, when he knew you were feeling guilty. 

“Why’d you come?” He says now, still looking at you. Unable to not look at you, actually. 

You look like you’ve matured so much, wearing an outfit that you would have thrived in back in the day, but you seem almost uncomfortable in it now. God, he remembers how pretty you were when you’d smile at him, when you’d just look at him as if he created the world just for you. 

It’s such a distant memory now, with your prettier lips and prettier eyes. He can’t imagine you’d ever look at him that way again. 

You both really took separate paths. 

He watches you shrug at his question before you turn around, glancing at him only for a moment, before averting your eyes again to busy yourself with something else.

“Seriously, why’d you come if you can’t even look at me?” He snaps now, standing to his feet and coming up to you. He can’t really help it if he’s being honest. It’s kind of a rush to see you again, to have so much to catch up on, so much to bury.

“Why are you here?”

“Didn’t someone call me back?” You argue slightly, forced to meet his eye. 

“I did,” He says your name so sternly. “Do you even know how many times I’ve looked for you in the crowds? Why now?”

You remain silent, guilty almost. You didn’t expect him to question you, better yet be standing in front of you like this claiming to have seeked you out for so long. He’s the one who didn’t want to bend, he’s the one who wouldn’t break for a safe, comfortable life. Not you. You wanted everything with him, everything but instability. 

“Because you were proven wrong?” He almost seethes it out, narrowing his eyes at you. “I always wondered what this day would feel like–”

“Jay,” You swallow hard. “That was so long ago. I just said those things because I was hurt that you were–”

“It doesn’t feel as good as I imagined.” He scoffs, interrupting and ignoring you as you try to speak. “Did you come here expecting to laugh?” 

You shake your head, now, only now, do you really look at him. 

His own breath is caught in his throat when you look at him. There it is. There’s those eyes he used to get lost in. And you look at him as if he isn’t the guy on stage who promises heartbreak and good sex. You look at him like you used to, when you’d study his face before a kiss in the middle of the night, out of breath and glistening with sweat. 

And upon actually looking at him, seeing him grow into that massive head of his, doing what he loves. There’s more shine in his eyes than before, more passion for his music, for life in general. 

And then there’s you in an outfit you had to buy because your closet is filled with business casual attire that will always feel itchy. Your hair, no longer colored or messy, your nose ring removed. Conformed to the very job you dreamed of. 

Did you really dream of it? Of security through desks and excel spreadsheets? Of a boss who doesn’t give two shits about you and co-workers who gossip behind your back? Of that boyfriend of yours who is slowly moving up in the company solely because he gives in to the lap-dog lifestyle for the CEO? 

You own your own home already, Jay probably lives in a rented apartment with the guys. You have a car, a nice job, a boyfriend who makes decent money. Yet, you’re jealous. You’re regretting it.

Have you always been this shallow? Looking down on Jay and his dreams because, at the time, it wasn’t realistic? 

Well, look at the reality now. 

And you don’t have a choice really, as you stare at him. What if you had gone with him? You’d have remained unemployed, no degree in hand, but…would it have been worth it?

You can’t fool yourself into believing it would be. It would have been fun, passionate even. But…what even is passion to you? Sex? The office you sit in day after day? Owning your own home? Your cat? Your boyfriend? The feeling thumping in your veins right now? The way your heart rate spikes when he looks at you? 

“I was wrong.” You say, still looking at him, this time bringing your hands up to grab at his arms. “Is that what you want to hear?” 

He ticks his tongue at you, looking to the floor. 

“I wish it was.” 

You shake your head, unable to lie to yourself, nor him. Tonight was the first time you heard his music since he broke up with you. Even so, no lyric was heard. Even with the hundreds of people shouting them out. You couldn’t hear it, not the guitar riffs, not the drums, the bass, nothing. 

Truthfully, all you could see was Jay. All you could hear was his voice, how even it had gotten, how much skill he had worked to grow. Yet, still, the lyrics were foreign to you.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” He almost laughs now. The audacity for you to show up here, on what should be one of the best nights of his life. The fucking confidence you must have to show up, as if you weren’t proved wrong. As if you have the right. 

To look at him like this and not even put up a fight? To not tell him how you’re doing? How your life is so much better without him? How you’d never have wanted to live this life or see him work tooth and fucking nail for this night. 

As if half of the fucking tracklist wasn’t entirely rooted in the break up. If you had listened, perhaps you’d have been aware that letting him see you again was a dangerous choice. 

He fell in love again. All over again. 

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

Reminder: full release date is April 19th, though the entire fic is already up and available on patreon!

This teaser is not the beginning of the fic, just a little scene tangled in the story <3

[erwinsvow]

hiii if you don’t want to pls do not take this as being pushy BUT….. i would just like you to know I’d go feral in the best of ways if you elaborated on your thoughts about jack and robby sharing 4th year med student reader… im really irregular about it like i might actually lose my mind

im barking at you... thank you for giving me the platform i needed. promise this WILL be written one day.. i think three weeks after binging the show my frontal lobe developed and i have a crush on robby now

someone else sent a yummy ask about being robby's gf who gets shared with jack, so i'll answer that soon but this is the reverse, since jack and 4th year reader in eavesdropping are together. this can be a lil spin off universe, let's say it's not as sweet and clear of a relationship just yet. throuple time!!!!!!

where to begin...!!! jack is a little grumpy, but mostly good-humored and he has a real knack for teaching, inspires confidence and makes people believe in themselves. he's just good at it, which is why him and fourth year reader are so good together! he helps her grow and learn things and she's a very sweet ball of sunshine which is exactly what a grumpy old man needs. and this is ME, so obviously, four year reader fixes a lot of the things jack feels sad about. helps him get through tough losses, reassures him that he's done everything he can, because even the teacher needs to hear it sometimes. it's not an easy profession and you're not even a full fledged doctor yet, so the responsibility isn't on you yet, even though it will be soon.

well fourth year reader does a few weeks of night shift with jack. they start seeing each other. jack's mood is a lot different for the month after that, even though fourth year reader eventually goes to another hospital for an audition. and then jack's mood goes down again. and robby is a good friend, so he notices. teases jack about it. "you like her, huh?" robby, at this point, has no idea. thinks jack is sweet on a twenty something medical student which just makes him laugh—but then he does remember that it's you. you worked with robby before you worked with jack.

you find the optimism in every depressing situation. you take his moments of silent reflection extremely seriously. you used to thank robby for every procedure he let you do, thanked him for trusting you and teaching you. and maybe you had a little crush on him too before you went over to night shift. what's so wrong with that—the hospital is filled with handsome attendings, and you've got two of them doting on you during your audition. and it's harmless, you think, since you don't think either of them can go anywhere, that they'll actually do something about it. and that's just kind of your personality, too sweet, too nice, too sunshiney. if old guys love it, then that's just the way it rolls.

it's not so much anything as it is the way you are. looking up at your attendings like they hung the moon because they tell you good job, great work, that you're doing something perfect, that you're making an excellent provider. maybe you get a high satisfaction rating or something one day after robby got chewed out about it and he sees you making an effort, listening to him, even more than you already did. and for jack, well i summed it up in a nice 10k but he wants to make you more confident, wants you to believe in yourself so when you come here in july for residency as an intern, you're going to be totally prepared.

so yes, robby is a little peeved that jack got you first. he didn't think abbot would actually do it. you're not the first medical student to have a crush on the attendings, nor will you be the last. he just thought for the sake of propriety, for the sake of hr, that you were off-limits for both of them. robby's a little grumpy about it—and you're on day shift with him for the next month and you hate when people are mad at you, especially your attending who is also jack's best friend who is also a man you still harbor a tiny little crush on, someone you want to impress everyday. so you talk to jack and he promises to figure out what's going on, and jack and robby have a beer, and then maybe a few too many beers, and robby goes i met her first, and jack knows about your thing with praise and approval and he knows you won't rest until you have robby's back. (he's also not stupid, he knows how you look at robby.) he thinks he has a solution to make everyone happy. so after a really bad day when the three of you get together and have dinner and go through a couple bottles of wine it is no surprise that you little crush on robby comes up.

and you don't think it's that big of a deal—half the hospital has a crush on the two men staring at you right now. you tell him that he always tells you good job and it just started getting to you, both of them started getting to you. and then robby says something about "well if i had known you were going to decide so early i would have argued my case harder." and then you're confused because as silly as your crushes seemed, you hadn't put two and two together that they both like you too. and then jack says "maybe we can figure something out, right sweetheart?" and maybe it's the wine and the fact that you have two grumpy old men that are somehow only sweet on you staring at you like you're not going to be able to walk tomorrow, but i think that might get to me. would you agree?

anyways, it's kinda funny because in eavesdropping (this is not in that universe again its just a spin off lil thing) she was a virgin and now it's like a couple months later and you're getting spit roasted by robby and jack. at first jack just watches—watches robby eat you out until you're shaking all over, watches you struggle to fit his best friend inside of you, but he's not really just a sit back and not partake in the fun kind of a guy, so he shows robby that thing he does with his fingers that makes you cum so hard you black out. then robby tries it.

when they have a bad day, it's like stress relief. robby's favorite thing to do at the end of a really terrible shift is to take out his frustration on you while jack keeps track of your orgasms. jack prefers to be ridden, so that's what you do, while robby watches. when you have a bad day it's the best though, you get spoiled and pampered and praised like there is no tomorrow, until you can't even think about anything else but how good and perfect you are.

it's honestly kind of hilarious at work. depending on if you're on day or night, you get stolen kisses and told good job for every single thing that you do. everyone just thinks that you're the favorite, the teacher's pet. and you totally would be, with how much you learn from those two just being around them. pillow talk consists of discussions about scientific journals and army medic procedures that work in a pinch in the trauma bay and the first time robby and jack saw this or that and what they did to save the patient. you guess you are a teacher's pet—easy enough when your teachers hover over you, one asking the questions and the other depriving you of your orgasm until you get it right.

i think one day dana catches robby kissing you during the day shift in the ambulance bay while she's smoking, and then as you guys are leaving, she catches jack kissing you (in front of robby) as you two head home. none of you would have seen her so no one knows what she knows, but occasionally if you come in sore and tired, lying through your teeth saying it's because you went too hard in pilates, she snorts and says "yeah, i bet." <3

[pierregazly]

tolerate it ꨄ lewis hamilton

lewis hamilton x fem!reader

warnings: age gap (no specific age, just mentioned), angst, no hea

this is just me projecting my sadness with this song onto one of the drivers, lewis being the best option. there's a chance i may do a part 2 to this eventually, but im pretty content with how it ended for now. i hope you enjoy!

It wasn’t always like this.  

There was a time when you didn’t wake up, clenching your eyes closed in the hopes that it would magically change the outcome once they opened.  

There was a time when you would wake up, Lewis nuzzling his chin into the space where your neck and shoulders collided, peppering the skin with little kisses in the hopes it would wake you from your slumber. 

There was a time when you didn’t have to hold your breath, when your eyes didn’t have to adjust to the lack of light in the room, just to get a small glimpse of the man you loved curled up next to you.  

It was hard to pinpoint the exact moment when it had all changed. Maybe it was at the beginning of the season, maybe it was before that. You couldn’t really be too sure. 

Now, you were lucky to catch a glimpse of him in the morning, lucky to even get the chance to move your eyes across his ink-coloured skin beside you. You were lucky to even get a kiss goodbye in the morning before he left, the sun barely up when he was leaving to go to training, or the factory, or God knows where.  

The words between the both of you were minimal nowadays, it was more like living with a roommate you saw occasionally instead of a lover that you were supposed to be sharing a life with.  

There was a time when Lewis would giggle as he read the words of his books to you in whatever animated voice he could come up with. There was a time when the art he created was a joint effort between the two of you; now, it felt like all he did was tolerate you. 

It was evident neither you, nor Lewis, wanted to touch on the topic. Both of you tiptoed around each other, not wanting to open the door that would push the storm in.  

There isn’t much time spent at the paddock anymore, your career becoming the main focus of your priorities. You still welcomed Lewis home after every Grand Prix, his favourite dinner’s packaged in the fridge, the linens cleaned, and his clothes prepped.  

A battle hero’s welcome, one could call it. 

He always politely thanked you, a gentle kiss to your forehead before he made his way to the office for the remainder of the night. There was a time when he would debrief with you after every race, watching highlight videos on the television while he explained what he did wrong, what he did right, where he could improve and where he got a little too cocky. Now he just did it alone, the door of his office tightly closed, no sound emitting from the room. 

Sugarcoating it to your friends and family was difficult. They understood Lewis’ career took center stage, but they couldn’t understand why he was never around when they came to your shared apartment, why it felt like his presence wasn’t even prominent in the home at all. 

There was no way to explain it, without sounding naïve, without sounding like you were just letting a relationship that was drowning, pull you down with it. 

Everyone suggested different reasons. The season wasn’t going in the way Lewis had hoped. Maybe his age is finally getting to him. Maybe he’s considering retirement and it’s bothering him. Maybe the age difference between the two of you is too much now.  

Maybe he’s fallen out of love. 

You knew the last one was a significant possibility. Lewis was a private person, but he showed his heart on his shoulder, especially at the beginning. Large declarations of love, obnoxious presents, at first, he wanted you to know that he was in love with you, constantly. 

There isn’t a time in the last four months that you can remember where Lewis demonstrated his love for you, quick ‘love you’s’ before the door slammed behind him, a random heart in the middle of the night when he’s halfway across the world; even those had slowly stopped. 

Nowadays he would hum silently when you told him you loved him, he would send a heart back if you sent one to him. He didn’t initiate anything, it just simply felt like he was tolerating it when you expressed your love for him. 

It wasn’t hard to remember the times when Lewis would tell you how much he loved you, how he would show it.  

He would curl up behind you in bed, the unmade sheets wrapped lazily around the two of you as he groaned into your neck, his hands resting around your middle as he eagerly cuddled up to you. 

You could always feel him mumbling words into your neck, but he would never tell you what he was saying. Lewis would just smile and press a tiny kiss to your lips, the kiss heating up as time went on, your bodies moving in sync as he demonstrated his love for you in every way he knew how. 

You weren’t a self-conscious person, you knew you had plenty to offer when it came to your relationship, and when it came to life in itself. You knew your love should be celebrated, celebrated in the way that Lewis used to celebrate it, the way he used to giggle as he wrapped his arms around you from behind, gently swaying to the music coming from his phone as you cooked together. 

You tried to push the negative thoughts away, the thoughts of leaving, of packing up your bags and leaving in the middle of the weekend while he was away. You considered it, time and time again. The suitcases staring at you from the closet, telling you to open them, pack them, and leave. 

Every weekend the temptation grew stronger and stronger. The urge to walk away, to preserve your dignity, sat heavy on your shoulders.  

Every time when you thought you had decided, thought you had made the decision to pull the dagger out and walk away; an invisible force pulled you back. Told you that the season was slowly coming to its end, that the old Lewis would come back to you when the season was up, he was just stressed out and things were hard. 

He never talked about his problems with you. He would debrief with you, sure. He would tell you about the problems in the race, but he would never tell you about his internal problems.  

It’s how you constantly justified his behaviour, and his actions... or lack thereof.  

Your mind always went back to those thoughts when you considered leaving. It always made you think about the fact that he was probably struggling, that he just wasn’t able to talk to you about it and that you leaving would probably make things worse. 

It was the invisible but obvious force, that, you knew. 

Lewis didn’t know about these thoughts. At least he never showed that he knew. The bags were always tucked away in the back of the closet when he returned home, like they were never sitting in front of the open door. Everything was back in their rightful place, as if the thought of leaving had never crossed your mind.  

One of your favourite moments with him happened just before the beginning of the season. You were cuddled up on the couch, the remnants of a ‘Game of Thrones’ episode playing on the television, Lewis’ hand gently creating shapes on the visible skin of your back.  

“Do you ever feel like you’re too old, or like... too wise for me? Like someone closer to your age would be better?” 

You felt him huff against your neck, a small laugh falling from his lips before he pressed a kiss to the spot his lips were before shaking his head. 

“Are you calling me old, my love?” 

Immediately shaking your head with a tiny laugh, you slapped his chest with a gleam in your eyes. “You know what I meant, Lew...” 

Rolling you over, he leaned over you as he pushed a lock of his own unruly hair behind his ear. “I rarely think about the fact you’re younger than me. It doesn’t affect the way in which I love you, half the time I forget that you’re younger than me. I definitely don’t think I’m wiser, that’s for sure. It’s pretty obvious who has all the wisdom between the two of us.” 

The night ended with you below him, the sheets rustling, as if all the love he had for you could be encaptured in the way his eyes connected with yours. You had never felt that kind of raw love before, had never felt like everything you had done had led to that exact moment. 

Trying to convince yourself that everything happening now was all in your mind was easy. The comments that your friends made, that maybe he didn’t love you anymore; was easy enough to ignore when you considered the fact that he did still reply to your messages, that he still came home every Sunday, that he still sometimes pressed a kiss to your forehead before leaving in the morning.  

But then sometimes you let your mind reel, and reel, and reel. Lewis was there, but was he really there? 

The conversation almost happened, after Spa. Lewis was exhausted coming into your shared apartment, his bags dropping down at the front door. You were wrapped up in one of his Mercedes sweaters, his racing number engraved on the sleeves; even if he was there physically and not mentally, you had still made him your everything, you had made him your mural, had dedicated the sky to him. 

The pictures on the walls still showed a love between the two of you that wasn’t obvious anymore. The picture of you wrapped around him after the end of the 2020 season. The pictures of the both of you cuddled around each other at his family Christmas, the collage of his nephews wrapped in your arms. There were hundreds of photos that showed how life used to be. 

Your mind came back to the present when Lewis crossed the path in front of you. 

Like always, he went to press a gentle kiss to the crown of your head, the exhaustion prevalent on his face. As he was walking towards his office, you felt the words bubble out of your mouth before you could control them. 

“Did you want to watch this with me? I feel like we haven’t really spent much time together lately.” 

The words stopped him in his tracks, you could practically see the wheels turning in his head as his body turned in your direction. It felt like his face was mocking you with its fake sympathy as he gently shook his head, his curls moving with the direction. 

“I’m just too tired. I have to go watch highlights in my office. Maybe later.” 

It was always ‘maybe later’, or ‘maybe tomorrow’, or ‘I’m sorry we can’t celebrate our anniversary this year, I just don’t have time this weekend, maybe next weekend’.  

It felt like you were begging him for a spot in his life, like you were an inconvenience that he didn’t want to put the effort into anymore. By now, you weren’t even begging for a line in the story, but a line in the footnotes of his life. A minuscule part, something that he couldn’t even try to give you.  

Lewis made it clear he felt bad after he bailed on your anniversary. He spent hundreds of dollars on you, basically begging you for forgiveness and emphasizing things would be different soon, he promised. 

He was right, things were different. Not in a good way. Maybe that was the point when things really started going downhill. It was still hard to pinpoint it. 

Making yourself scarce when Lewis was home was easy. Your friends were always looking for you to go for lunch, or dinner, or out for drinks. Spending your time at work was always an easy escape, allowing the never-ending flow of work to occupy your thoughts as you went above and beyond. 

If Lewis noticed that you were avoiding him, avoiding your home; he didn’t say anything. He never said anything. 

Spending the weekends at home was therapeutic, your arms wrapped in another one of Lewis’ oversized sweaters. The smell of his cologne wafting up your noise as you pressed the sleeve to your face, the unshed tears refusing to leave your eyes. You wouldn’t cry, not again. 

You knew you would cry, again. You always let the tears fall when you scrolled back up in your conversation with Lewis to when things first started, when he was animated, when he overshared, when he sent you photos of George, of Mick, when he forwarded you along videos of Roscoe when Roscoe was away with him.  

Back when your love was celebrated, when it didn’t feel like Lewis was just tolerating it, tolerating you, tolerating your love. 

Jealousy reared its ugly head every weekend as well. Whenever you saw an Instagram story, or a twitter post, whenever you saw that Lewis was out with his friends, or his team, or his crew. You knew it wasn’t fair to be jealous, that it wasn’t fair to compare yourself to the people that Lewis spent 5/7 days a week with, that it was hard for him to say ‘no’ to them. 

It didn’t change how much it hurt, how much it made your heart ache to know that you truly were something that could be put on the backburner. He was always out building other worlds, but where were you?  

Where were you every time he was out with his friends after a race? Where were you every time he was celebrating a win, or celebrating a pole in qualifying? Where were you every time he went live on Instagram? 

Where was his love for you when you sat looking at the suitcases in the closet, again? 

Gone. 

It was time to accept the truth, that his love for you was gone. That he didn’t celebrate his love for you like he once did, that he didn’t celebrate you, like he once did.  

He tolerated it, and he tolerated you. Tolerating something and celebrating it were too obviously different things. It had never been more evident. 

The bags didn’t stare at you anymore as they laid open on the bedroom floor, your clothes finding themselves folded and inside each of them, your portion of the closet emptying out as the bags grew heavier and heavier. The bags under your eyes growing darker alongside them. 

You couldn’t leave without saying anything to him, couldn’t allow him to come home to an empty home. It was obvious he didn’t deserve an explanation, and you didn’t plan on giving him one. But he deserved a goodbye.  

It was clear the presence of the suitcases registered in Lewis’ mind the moment his eyes found them as the front door closed. He immediately looked at you, the most emotion you’d seen in months shining in his eyes. 

“What’s going on?” 

The shake in his hands was visible as he asked the question, his own bags falling gently beside your own as he stared at you.  

“I can’t do this anymore. I can’t beg for a place in your life anymore, Lew. I’m sorry.” 

The resignation was evident in his eyes, but there was no fight in them as he sat on the couch opposite you. It almost hurt to know that he wasn’t going to argue, wasn’t going to ask you to stay, to not break free and leave the both of you in ruins. It almost hurt, but you knew it would be the case.  

“I’m sorry.” 

He didn’t try to stop you as you went towards your bags, he didn’t look up from his ink-stained hands as the click of the lock sounded. He didn’t try to say anything more as the suitcases rolled out the door. 

You didn’t see the tears gather in his eyes and then fall down his cheeks as the door closed behind you, the longing on his face as he debated with himself internally if he should run after you. Beg you to stay. It was so plain to see now, you were younger, and wiser, and he didn’t deserve you anymore. 

Lewis knew the truth. You deserved someone who would celebrate you, celebrate your love. Not someone who could only tolerate it when their own life was falling apart. He didn’t deserve you, not anymore.  

i really hope you guys liked this!! im really not too sure if i'll make a part 2, but if there's a lot of demand for one i will. thank you for all the love. also i read this like 4 times so if there's any mistakes im sorry lol

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