#so i was like god is this too self indulgent

[checkeredflagggs]

The Story of Us: Chapter 1

pairing: logan sargeant x famous!fem!singer

summary: logan and you have been keeping a secret from everyone but it might be time for it to come out

a/n: while I do my best on most of my works to be race neutral, this one is very very very self indulgent 🤷🏻‍♀️

a/n2: this is part 1 of 4/5, which will be released when they’re finished and I’m using pretty much everything from Taylor Swift

a/n3: I still don’t understand instagram so - no one but those that follow you can see a private accounts comments (even on a public post). Also I still hate twitter so I’ve replaced it with Bluesky

y/n_fanpage

liked by maxverstappen1, landonorris, charles_leclerc, and 10,293,833 others

y/n_fanpage: y/n_nation has been busy this past week with hints of what’s to come. Obviously midnight has something to do with her announcement! Thoughts?

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user1: NO. SHUT UP!!!

↳user2: NEW STUFF??? NEW MATERIAL??

↳user1: MOTHER IS BACKKK!!!

↳user2: I forgot that it’s y/n_nation that posts the announcements now 😭😭 I feel like I’ve missed so much stuff

↳user1: girl you better go back and check it out

charles_leclerc: cannot wait! Will definitely be on repeat in the garage

↳carlossainz55: yes!!

↳scuderiaferrari: already making room for it in the playlist!

↳user3: ok but this just makes sense to me!!

↳user4: right? Of course Carlos and Charles are y/n fans!

user5: another banger album on the way!

↳user6: album of the year!!

user7: 🤞🤞 fingers crossed it’s a love album

↳user8: oh my god same?

↳user7: like I love her other stuff so much but her love albums??? Next. Level.

↳user8: right?? Oh imagine being loved by someone who writes literal love songs for you

↳user7: not just love songs tho…Thee love songs!

alex_albon: new race day anthem loading!

↳logansargeant: 😂

↳alex_albon: I can’t be teammates with you if you’re not a y/n fan

↳logansargeant: biggest fan there is

↳alex_albon: well that’s not possible

↳lilymhe: no one is taking that title from us!

↳logansargeant: if you say so…

↳oscarpiastri: 🤣🤣

user9: tour tour tour tour!

↳user10: she’s hasn’t even released the album yet? Like Jesus…

y/n

liked by user, charles_leclerc, maxverstappen1, alex_albom, logansargeant, and 11,283,012 others

y/n: this is a no judgement zone, right? Right? Meet the newest members of the family — Snowball and Snowflake, Marshmallow, and Croissant!

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user11: I’m in love?

↳user12: you’re in love? I’m in love!!!

↳user13: they’re so cute!

maxverstappen1: You’re a cat mom too?

↳user14: still not over the thought that vroom vroom guys are in mothers comment section

logansargeant: good looking pups there!

charles_leclerc: it must be the season for new pets!

↳user15: ok but this seems desperate?

↳user16: oh I’m glad I’m not the only one to sense this

↳charles_leclerc: non! It is called shooting your shot!

↳user15: reads like desperation tbh

↳maxverstappen1: ha

↳charles_leclerc: I don’t think I like you anymore

↳user15: I’m not sure who you’re talking too or who should be more offended

↳charles_leclerc: yes

y/n

liked by logansargeant, landonorris, estebanocon and 13,297,934 others

y/n: We lie awake in love and in fear, in turmoil and in tears. We stare at walls and drink until they speak back. We twist in our self-made cages and pray that we aren’t — right this minute — about to make some fateful life-altering mistake.

This is a collection of music written in the middle of the night, a journey through terrors and sweet dreams. The floors we pace and the demons we face. For all of us who have tossed and turned and decided to keep the lanterns lit and go searching — hoping that just maybe, when the clocks strike twelve…we’ll meet ourselves.

Midnights, the story of 13 sleepless nights scattered throughout my life, is yours now. Meet me at midnight

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user16: what??? Like what??

user17: did she seriously just drop a surprise album on us?????

↳user18: miss ma’am mother i know that the album is called midnight but that does NOt mean you have to drop it at midnight! I have classes tomorrow!

maxverstappen1: vigilante shit is on repeat!

↳redbullracing: we can confirm this ✅

↳charles_leclerc: bejeweled is where it’s at actually

↳scuderiaferrari: excuse us while we grab our rhinestones

↳maxverstappen1: it’s ok to admit you’re wrong.

↳charles_leclerc: I’m glad you’re being truthful!

↳maxverstappen1: 😑😑😑

user19: ok but mastermind??? What kind of groundwork are you laying girl??

↳user20: right??? She’s been writing love songs for years and there’s still nothing about who they’re for

↳user21: for real!!! She’s come out about a lot of her songs — illicit affair about yourbff and back to December being about yoursister — but she’s Never! Said anything about who the love songs are about!

↳user19: I’m convinced she’s in a long term relationship and they’re all about her partner!

↳user20: user53 your help is needed rn!

↳user53: oh god not again

↳user19: when im right im gonna laugh in your face

↳user53: uh huh sure you will

alex_albon: do we have to pick a favorite?? Can’t we just play it on repeat in it’s entirety?

↳lilymhe: we absolutely will be doing that

↳logansargeant: really? The entirety??

↳alex_albon: for someone who tried to say you were her biggest fan, this is disappointing behavior

↳lilymhe: it really is

↳logansargeant: 🤷🏼‍♂️🤷🏼‍♂️

↳logansargeant: 🤣

oscarpiastri: my sisters have been screaming at me since it dropped

↳logansargeant: oops. Sorry about that man — know how that feels

↳hattiepiastri: we! need! a! signed! copy!

↳oscarpiastri: I thought you were just into kpop?

↳hattiepiastri: mom! nicolepiastri Oscar is being mean!

↳oscarpiastri: low blow.

↳hattiepiastri: 🤨🥺

↳oscarpiastri: …I’ll see what I can do

↳user19: 🧐🧐🧐

landonorris: I don’t know which one to choose as a favorite…

↳oscarpiastri: oh no

↳landonorris: which means all of them are!

↳oscarpiastri: does this mean…

↳carlossainz55: he will be singing the entire album at the top of his lungs, yes

↳danielricciardo: it won’t be good singing but it will be consistent

↳oscarpiastri: no

↳carlossainz55: yes

↳danielricciardo: yup

↳landonorris: go away muppets! Leave me and y/n and her album alone

↳oscarpiastri: 🤣🤣

logansargeant

liked by not_y/n, oscarpiastri, alex_albon, and 1,294,278 others

logansargeant: always a great feeling being back home — even better with new friends

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user22: new puppy??? Winter break did Logan good this year!

alex_albon: you didn’t tell me you got a new dog!

↳logansargeant: haha it’s technically not mine but sorry!

↳alex_albon: you got a new dog and didn’t tell me!! Me!!

↳logansargeant: 😂😂

↳lilymhe: he’s pacing right now, he’s in distress

↳logansargeant: sorry not sorry

↳logansargeant: would a visit with him help?

↳alex_albon: it is literally the least you could do

↳logansargeant: 😂 he’ll be at Miami

↳alex_albon: good!

user23: ummm?? Could I take the place of the puppy???

user24: I’m?? Jealous? Of a dog…

↳user25: big mood

↳used24: this is not where I predicted my life would be 10 years ago…

↳user25: no one ever does.

user19: am I gonna be attacked if I say something?

↳user53: potentially

↳user19: do you just have me on notifications??

↳user26: we alert them every time we see you post

↳user26: you scare us

↳user19: just because I’m always right doesn’t mean I’m scary

↳user53: ok let’s take it to dms.

↳user19: buckle up then buddy cause I’ve got it all printed out

↳user26: user53 is a real one 🫡 taking it for team

↳user19: 😡😡😡

↳user53: user19 come on. Explain your newest conspiracy

not_y/n: what a cutie! And he looks so well behaved

↳not_logan: why thank you!

↳not_oscar: gross guys. Keep it to yourselves please and thank you

↳not_y/n: why?? Want me to call you a good boy too??

↳not_logan: absolutely not!

↳not_oscar: eww 🤢 you’re solidly in the sister category and this is not game of thrones

↳not_y/n: 😜

↳not_y/n: speaking of — hotd season 1 binge before Miami?

↳not_logan: yes!

↳not_oscar: yes! — L

↳not_oscar: i guess that it’s a yes from us

y/n

liked by landonorris, oscarpiastri, maxverstappen1, and 16,294,923 others

y/n:

What keeps you up at night?

It’s a momentary glimmer of distraction. The tiniest notion of reminiscent thought that wanders off into wondering, the spark that lights a tinderbox of fixation. And now it is irreversible. The flame has caught. You’re wide awake.

3am is different from midnight — the sky is ever darker and the thoughts even more haunting. Things that would keep you up at one don’t at the other.

Midnights: the 3am edition is yours now

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user27: why? Would? You? Do? This? To? Me?? I just barely got over midnights?? And now I have to listen to 3am??

oscarpiastri: again? Didn’t we just go through this 2 weeks ago?

↳landonorris: WOOOO!

↳oscarpiastri: oh no 😥

↳logansargeant: you could show some enthusiasm? You’ve definitely said she’s one of your favorite artists before

↳oscarpiastri: she is. Lando’s version of her? Not so much

↳landonorris: so rude!

↳carlossainz55: I think it might be a self defense mechanism

↳danielricciardo: gotta save those eardrums somehow

↳landonorris: 😡😡

danielricciardo: Paris baby!

↳user28: I knew you were a man of taste!

↳yukitsunoda0511: he’s really not. The Great War is superior

↳danielricciardo: you wish

user29: ok but would’ve, could’ve, should’ve??

↳lilymhe: karma is still the superior song

↳alex_albon: bigger than the whole sky? Did you miss that song?

↳lilymhe: we’re breaking up. I can’t be with someone who’s top song isn’t karma

↳user29: sorry but you’re both wrong 🤷🏼‍♂️

user19: Paris???? Are you kidding me!??!? And The Great War?!??

↳user53: I’m gonna need you to take a deep breath

↳user19: I told you!

↳user53: yes you did. And, and I can’t believe I’m saying this, I’m starting to believe you

↳user30: who are you and what happened to user53?

↳user53: I don’t know man. I don’t know

↳user53: however user19 might be on to something here…

↳user19: MIGHT?!?

↳user19: just you wait!

y/n_nation

liked by logansargeant, oscarpiastri, charles_leclerc, and 19,294,923 others

y/n_nation: pack your backs and get your tickets! Coming to a city near you, the Eras Tour is a journey through y/n’s decade long music career!

Starting in Miami, Opening Night is Monday, May 6…more

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user30: YES!!!

↳user31: omg omg omg omg!!!!

danielricciardo: already planning on it!

↳maxverstappen1: so lucky that opening day is immediately after the Miami GP!

↳danielricciardo: exactly! It’ll be nice to spend a few extra days in Florida!

↳user19: yes so lucky…

oscarpiastri: on the one hand I think my sisters would kill me if we didn’t go for opening night…on the other hand I don’t know if I can do a live show with Lando…

↳logansargeant: maybe you’ll get lucky and have separate seating?

↳oscarpiastri: one could only hope…

↳landonorris: you frickin muppets

↳hattiepiastri: seriously???

↳oscarpiastri: will work on it

↳hattiepiastri: yes!!

alex_albon: suddenly i feel like the garages will have a lot of extra guests…

↳lilymhe: what do you mean? I always planned on going to Miami!

↳alex_albon: does always mean 20 minutes?

↳carmenmmundt: it does actually!

↳georgerussell63: since when?

↳francisca.cgomes: for about the last 20 minutes!

↳pierregasly: hint received

↳francisca.cgomes: 🤭

user32: ok i need to be at opening night now…

↳user33: right? The chance to see all these drivers in person?

↳user32: AND to see y/n perform live?!? Dream come true

charles_leclerc: I am ready to fight the Ticketmaster

↳alexandrasaintmleux: yay!

↳user34: oh to have Charles leclerc fight Ticketmaster for you…

logansargeant

liked by not_y/n, oscarpiastri, alex_albon, and 1,214,223 others

logansargeant: last minute dates before the season starts

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user35: who? What? Where? When?

↳user36: A GIRLFRIEND?!??!!? SINCE WHEN????

alex_albon: first you get a dog and don’t tell me and now you have a whole ass GIRLFRIEND AND DIDNT TELL ME???? Where is the team loyalty?

↳logansargeant: …we’ve been together longer then I’ve been your teammate?

↳user37: what?? HOW LONG?

↳alex_albon: exactly! HOW LONG???

↳logansargeant: just over 10 years now

↳alex_albon: you were a baby?

↳logansargeant: I was nearly 14?

↳alex_albon: a baby!!

oscarpiastri: tell her to answer her texts

↳logansargeant: she said she’s on a strict no phone policy

↳oscarpiastri: I can see her on her phone right now

↳logansargeant: “oh it’s exclusively against Australians who mocked my cooking attempts”

↳oscarpiastri: 😑😑😑

↳oscarpiastri: whatever she made IT WAS NOT BANANA BREAD

↳logansargeant: “but you didn’t have to laugh at me!”

↳alex_albon: the Australian knows???

↳oscarpiastri: there are levels here albon. Gotta get on my level — childhood best friends

jensonbutton: you’ve never mentioned you had a girl, kid

↳logansargeant: ok but to be fair you’ve never asked?

↳jensonbutton: and you’ve never introduced us?

↳logansargeant: she supports from a distance — she also travels a lot for work

↳jensonbutton: kid…

↳alex_albon: DOES ANYONE BUT THE AUSTRALIAN KNOW??

↳oscarpiastri: my family knows

↳alex_albon: Logan…

↳logansargeant:😂

user38: that Florida sun does something amazing for Logan!

↳user39: is it the sun or is it the girl??

↳logansargeant: it’s not the girl

↳logansargeant: it’s my girl

↳user39: I am literally swooning right now good lord

user19: user53! I told you

↳user53: …yeah ok

↳user40: user19 I need the timeline I need the proof I need the receipts

↳user19: I’ve got you!

Bluesky

f1

liked by logansargeant, maxverstappen1, charles_leclerc, and 8,923,924 others

tagged: y/n, y/n_nation

f1: it’s time to be fearless! Miss Americana will be performing the National Anthem at the Miami GP the day before the start of her Eras tour!

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user41: oh my god!!! I get to see her twice???

↳user42: seriously??? I’m so jealous

↳user41: I don’t know which gods blessed me but I managed to get tickets to both!!

↳user42: you know I heard it’s good to sleep with your windows open…

maxverstappen1: y/n the Redbull Garage would gladly welcome you!

↳redbullracing: absolutely! You Belong With Us!

↳user43: …is the redbull admin playing wingman for max?

↳redbullracing: the grind never stops

↳maxverstappen1: thanks admin

↳user43: gotta respect that I guess

landonorris: I think papaya is more your color y/n!

↳user44: I think she might prefer a winner actually

↳user44: you know to match her 3 album of the year’s

↳landonorris: ok i let stand the bullying from my friends and teammates

↳landonorris: but im not gonna stand for it from you

williamsracing: i think we could have The Best Day with you and your fellow American y/n!

↳logansargeant: hey what?

↳alex_albon: that’s it? Gonna need more enthusiasm from the guy who “claims” he’s the biggest fan

↳lilymhe: yeah! Show off your American spirit

↳logansargeant: caw caw 🇺🇸🇺🇸🦅🦅

↳y/n: stunning show

↳lilymhe: 🤯🤯

user49: did…did she just…

↳user50: respond to Logan Sargeant? Yeah

↳user49: ohmygod

scuderiaferrari: I do believe Red is your color y/n

↳charles_leclerc: we look best in Red here!

↳carlossainz55: and we have ice cream!

↳charles_leclerc: yes! Custom ice cream just for you

↳alexandrasaintmleux: and we’ll even have a puppy if you’d like a puppy play date!

↳charles_leclerc: yes leo is very well behaved

↳user51: the desperation stinks all up in here

user52: i am living for all the garages trying to get y/n to join them for the weekend

↳user54: my favorite part is the desperation coming from the drivers

↳user54: silly vroom vroom guys and gals thinking they could shoot their shot with y/n… liked by not_y/n

Private Messages

y/n_gossip

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y/n_gossip: breaking! Coming from unknown sources are apparently leaked photos from y/n’s private phone.

My questions are how was she hacked and who is the guy!

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Private Messages

[ubeb0nes]

NSFW Sevika HCs

𖢻 ~ ~ ~ 𖢻

A/n: i haven't written any smut in god knows how long so pls go easy yall 😭

𖢻 ~ ~ ~ 𖢻

This is a dom

I love indulging in the bottom!sevika content when i come across it, it's beautiful, showstopping

But bby, you only get to do what she lets you do. Even when she's on bottom, you're never really the one in charge, no matter how you might try to convince yourself

She's a terrible tease, and has an absolutely filthy mouth. Loves watching your jaw drop slightly when she whispers things in public, and how you scramble to gather yourself

Her self-control and patience is absolutely insane. She's not one to jump your pants at the first tease you give her.

She'll let you have her fun, all while running the tip of her tongue across a canine and plotting her revenge

Gets a big head/ego if you call her mommy. Nearly loses her mind and reputation for restraint if you call her daddy

A lot of her turn-ons are things that aren't inherently sexual. I like to think she's attracted to both masc and fem-presenting people, and anything leaning deeper into these characteristics will get a rise out of her.

Ex.'s -> watching you put on makeup in the mornings, specifically lipstick/gloss. Conversely, how your thighs look and your face hardens when you manspread while striking a deal. When you look up at her and rest your hands on her chest. When you lean back and rest your arm over the back of her chair

Particularly masculine and particularly feminine things. She eats up both

Absolutely a bit of a sadist/madochist. We know this from the whole cait thing

She's obsessed with your mouth in particular. The marks you leave, the shapes it makes with certain sounds she pulls from you, how your lips wrap around her fingers when she teases your mouth open with them

She rarely ever has you on your back because she wants to watch your tongue loll and your eyes roll

Goes crazy for certain things you say when you start to reach melted brain levels of fucked out; "baby, it's too much…" "Sevi, i can't keep going" "no, baby, no more…" it's like a second wave. And, (always) only with your emphatic consent, she'll proceed to push your body even more

Her favorite position is missionary i'm sorry lmfao. Vanilla in theory, but definitely doesn't feel like it when she's slinging that shimmerstrap LOL

I HC she's generally pretty gentle with you, at least lovesick!sevika is. In the sense that she's not tossing you around or slapping your ass purple.

Rather, she'll wrap her hand around your throat but not really squeeze. And she'll push her fingers down your throat until you're teary-eyed, but she won't fuck your throat until it's raw and sore.

She prefers using her hands and her mouth, but her strap game is insane. That stroke would be hypnotic to watch.

Her eyes read clearly when it comes to intimacy. The way they darken and narrow when she's about to pounce on you, and how they always get so glossy and self-satisfied (if not a bit smug) as she watches you cum.

Her crows feet crease as she smiles down at you, whispering "good job, baby" and "there's my girl, you're okay. I've got you."

Always insists on taking care of you afterwards, but won't fight you on it if you flip it on her and make her lay back so you can clean her up

In fact, please do this. She'll think about it for weeks

Cuddles you afterward like she's trying to burrow in your skin. Can't get enough of the smell of you post-sex, burying her nose in your neck and your hair

Yeah, she's never sharing you. Everything about you is too precious, too hers.

She demands hickeys/lipstick marks on her chest- over her heart- because your claim over her deepens her own.

[sarcasm-is-my-form-of-attack]

Impulsivity

Modern Viktor x Fem! Reader

Your chronic pain has you at the end of your rope as you hopelessly search for something to relieve your pain. Help comes from the most unexpected of places: a walgreens at 9:45 pm.

Reader is mentioned to be an art/theater kid and is also disabled like Viktor and suffers from chronic pain. No use of y/n. Also not proofread we die like redacted

Word count: 4.6K

High key inspired by @meownotgood and @gaybybirth because reading their writing made me want to write again. This is the most self-indulgent thing I've ever written and I'm terrified to post it. But I'm being brave! likes, comments, and reblogs are appreciated! I may make a part 2 depending on how this does. I hope you enjoy!

Pain makes it incredibly hard to think. Even though you're used to it and it's something you feel every day of your life, the burden is still quite heavy. But there is no pity for Atlas, and his shoulders will ache for the rest of time as he holds up the sky without the relief of Tylenol.

So now, you're standing in a Walgreens at 9:42 pm in the pain management aisle, shifting your weight from foot to foot to relieve the pain radiating from your hips to your ankles, trying to pick a topical pain relief gel that will actually work. You've tried most of them here; Bengay, Aspercreme, Biofreeze, Icy Hot, and nothing. Sure, they work for a few weeks but your fucking mutated joke of a body adapts and grows accustomed to whatever you use. The brace you wear on your left knee is itchy and pokes into you through your fleece-lined tights and it's not helping matters.

Giving up on reading the box of Voltaren you're holding, you crouch down to put it back and pick up something else. Your pain-addled brain is piss-poor at making decisions it seems, as the moment you bend, your knee cracks in such a way that a painful heat spreads through your entire body. It was loud too, you know it was. Eyes are staring at you, burning a hole in your head as you wince and grit your teeth against the waves of pain hell-bent on knocking you down.

You feel the urge to collapse, just sit on the floor, and read the labels and boxes there without having to stand, despite how utterly ridiculous you'd look.

"Are you alright?" Your right knee hits the floor as you shift into a kneeling position to look up at the person speaking to you. A long tweed overcoat, a thick red scarf, a cane, nice Oxford shoes, pale skin, worried amber eyes, and tousled brown hair meet your gaze. A man, a very beautiful man is standing a mere three feet from you, eyebrows pinched in concern. You blink a few times, willing yourself to remember how to act like a normal person and not a gobsmacked fool.

"Oh, yeah I uh…" You swallow and gesture wildly to the wall of products, and then visibly deflate "…no there's no way to make a joke out of this. " A laugh slips out, pitiful. You look back up at the man and the corners of his mouth are quirked up at the sides. Thank god, maybe he finds your misfortune endearing.

"They do tend to keep the best products just out of reach, don't they? Nothing at eye level ever seems to be worth your time. Just another cruel joke the health industry plays on the less abled." He looks between the wall of lotions and pills and you, his smile widening.

You smile too, less self-deprecative now and more understanding, "Ah, a fellow health industry hater, amazing. Damn straight, they bleed us dry and expect us to thank them. Greedy schmucks." With one hand on the metal shelf and the strength of your good (better?) knee, you manage to pull yourself into an upright position, even with every nerve in your body screaming at you and your left hip wanting to jump ship, leaving you alone in this sea of agony.

"Just trying to find something that doesn't stop working after a few weeks and also not develop an opioid addiction at the same time." Ah, maybe you could make a few cute jokes that this cuter man will appreciate.

"As one does." He leans both hands on his cane and nods his head conspiratorially. You giggle, you can't help it. Maybe it's the pain-induced delirium or maybe it's because you find the man in front of you incredibly attractive. But who's to say?

"Might I make a recommendation?" His accent is lilting and thick and it feels like every word out of his mouth is wrapped in a velvetine cloth. That metaphor makes no sense, your brain thinks. Shut up, chimes your heart.

"Please. I was about to start considering just chopping off my leg and being done with it." He laughs out loud at that.

"Ah, we've all been there." His attention is pulled back to the shelves and his fingers twitch as he looks for something. He's focused, insanely so, and it makes you feel important, seen. This random stranger, looking for something that will help you with such fervor.

God, it's been a while.

He bends at the waist to grab something off of the second shelf from the bottom and you definitely don't fixate on the way his long fingers curl around a box.

"This is Arnicare. The main ingredient was only legalized here a mere decade ago, it's never failed me thus far." He hands it over to you with a smile. You take it, a little awestruck and make a sincere effort to not freak out over the fact that your fingers brush his own. They're warm, good god.

"Thank you. This is invaluable insider information." You hold the box to your chest in gratitude.

"Of course. Tiger Balm is my favorite but they don't typically sell it in-store due to popular demand. I usually, unfortunately, turn to Amazon to buy it when it's in stock." he continues, putting one hand in his pocket and leaning onto his cane. You nod, making mental notes as you go.

"You are saving my life and my sanity right now. Truly." You pause, and then, with bravery that you didn't know you had-

"I'm (name)." You stick out your right hand, so that way if he chooses to take it, it won't be with the hand using his cane. He stalls for a moment and you fear you've made a horrible fool of yourself, but then he chuckles and shakes your hand gently. You can't get over how warm his hand is, skin soft save for the callouses on his palm and fingertips.

"Viktor. It is nice to meet you." His eyes crinkle as the gentle smile he wears widens.

There's a charged beat where your hands linger a moment longer than what is expected and you laugh it off before letting go. "Sorry, I uh…have been running on far less than the recommended amount of sleep and have been eating meals that do not classify as meals."

"I don't think I have ever gotten the recommended hours of sleep a day in my life."

Your eyebrows shoot up, "Really?"

"Really. I think my blood is 60% espresso at this point. Such is the life of academia." He shrugs as if to say, what can you do?

You look down at the product in your hands, and then back up to him, mind racing in a thousand different directions that all leave you terrified but at the same decision.

"You know, there's a really nice late-night coffee shop in this same shopping complex. Their coffee is the only coffee I confidently drink after 4 pm. Which, is arguably not healthy but, what can you do?" You blurt out, rather impulsively. He's a little shocked, it's clear on his face, but there is still a smile there.

"Are you asking me if I'd like to accompany you to grab coffee at…9:45 pm?" He tilts his head quizzically after checking his watch.

You nod a few times, "Absolutely I am. And maybe it's the fact that my hip hurts so bad and it's prohibiting me from feeling fear but…yeah. Wanna get coffee at 9:45 pm?" He's staring at you incredulously, but it's sweet and amused.

He laughs again, and it's a low, rumbling sound, "I was already planning on getting some kind of caffeine. Sure. I would love to." He's looking at you so intensely, almost like he's studying you. Self-consciousness washes over you suddenly as you realize you've sort of completely derailed whatever he'd been doing.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to interrupt your shopping or your night…"

He shakes his head as if it were impossible to interrupt, "Interrupt my night? My night full of no plans other than grading papers until my eyes bleed? Alone and without the company of a pretty girl? Ah yes, how dare you come between me and those plans." his tone is playful, sarcastic and the nervousness fades from you as quickly as it came. Your eyes narrow.

"Oh, so he thinks I'm pretty?" You grab your purse from off the ground and start to move backward toward the register, and he follows, adjusting his cane and bag sheepishly.

"He does."

"Good because she thinks he's pretty too." You venture quickly before your brain can catch up with your mouth. It only takes a second for him to catch up with you, strolling through the aisles of a near-desolate Walgreens.

"Lucky him."

The cashier at the counter looks as though they'll fall asleep as they bag your items: the Arnicare and a bottle of dark green nail polish. "I swear I'm not typically this impulsive." You call over your shoulder as the cashier hands you the receipt and you stuff your things into your purse. Viktor walks up and puts his items on the counter - allergy medication and a pack of multicolored pens, presumably for grading - and turns to you while fishing out his wallet.

"Somehow, I highly doubt that." He pauses, thinking over his next words, "Not that being impulsive is a bad thing. I could stand to be more impulsive." It's an apology where there doesn't need to be one.

You shrug, "No offense taken, because you're right. I was...just trying to save face."

"Why?"

"Well…" Why were you trying to save face? "I feel, maybe a professor wouldn't be so inclined to hang out with someone so uninhibited? Some people call me childish." As he takes the small bag from the cashier, you find his eyes again, and they are full of mirth.

"Firstly, not a professor. I'm a PhD student at the University not far from here. We, as TA's, usually get saddled with grading assignments and papers." He walks forward with you, letting you walk through the automated doors first, probably so you can lead the way to the coffee shop.

"Secondly, I disagree. Impulsivity does not automatically equate to childishness. Some people say impulsive, I say driven, or passionate. Spontaneity is life." You stare at him unabashedly as you walk. This man, Viktor, waxing poetic about the benefits of impulsivity on your behalf. He's smart, obviously, but not in a haughty I'm Better Than You way. It's refreshing. And while you may not be a traditional academic, you understand to some level.

The cold bites at your skin, and you regret your decision to forgo a jacket, so you shiver when you tell him, "You're incredibly good at making me feel better about myself. I bet your students love you." He laughs at that - you're noticing that you seem to be quite good at making him laugh - and shakes his head disapprovingly

Then, guilty, "Not when I'm assigning pop quizzes after returning from winter break and calling them out for using AI."

"Ok the AI thing I completely understand, but assigning a pop quiz after a break is just cold on so many levels." College wasn't that cruel to you, but there had been many a quiz that you bombed simply because you hadn't been prepared for them. One or two that immediately followed a break.

The coffee shop comes up quickly and you move to open the door, but he's faster, shifting his bag to his elbow and grabbing the door for you as he quips, "Ah, so I see you would've been one of the students who failed that quiz." He's teasing you, and it's working.

"I can neither confirm nor deny. Although don't look at my freshman year grades. They force the art kids to take two semesters of stats and…it was just a fucking torpedo into my GPA."

"Fair enough." His laugh is quickly starting to become one of your favorite sounds.

The warmth of the dimly lit shop is nice, especially after just being out in the cold. It seeps into your bones and mercifully leeches out some of the pain in your hip.

The shop is small, quaint, and its setup reminds you of a library. Secluded booths and tables with individual lamps on them, bookshelves lining the walls, and everything made out of dark wood. Viktor looks around in awe for a moment, then, "How have I never stumbled onto this place before?"

You mentally pat yourself on the back. It had been a few years ago that you'd found this place. After a bit of an insane night out cut short by a friend getting you kicked out of the bar, you frantically searched for food places open late. This place immediately popped up leading you and your friends to feast on pastries and sandwiches washed down by the most delicious coffee you'd ever had.

"I was just lucky. When you're drunk and hungry, you can find anything." You walk towards the back of the shop, picking out a booth in the corner, "Is this ok?"

Viktor nods, hanging his cane off the table and shrugging out of his jacket. There is a moment where you feel you might keel over right there, but it is through sheer power of will that you remain standing, because holy hell this man is attractive. He's wearing a three-quarter sleeve black turtleneck that clings to his body in a way that's not loose, nor is it skin-tight. You can see the barest hint of something underneath, perhaps a back brace to help with stability. Sitting down in the booth, you try to avert your eyes to no avail, as they roam over the dark brown slacks sitting high on his waist. It's a miracle you're not drooling. Staring down at the red, long sleeve sweater you'd paired with a deep brown skirt, you can't help but think we match.

He sits down slowly, and you recognize the strategy to minimize pain, then folds his hands in front of him. "So, freshman year statistics? I believe you called it a 'fucking torpedo'?"

"Of course you picked up on that."

"Well, you were rather emphatic about it." The smugness is radiating off of him in waves and it stokes the fire in your gut.

Huffing, "Not everyone can be a whiz at math and science. I mean, what are you getting your PhD in?"

It looks like he's biting back a shit eating grin, "Biomedical engineering."

"Oh fuck off."

He releases the hold over the grin he was hiding and you're blinded by it. It absolutely makes sense, in retrospect. His analytical gaze, as if taking things apart in his mind and putting them back together, even just the way he speaks, so sure and confident. Your mouth opens to say something but a waitress decides that moment is a prime opportunity to get your drink orders.

Viktor orders a Turkish coffee and you order a French vanilla iced latte with cinnamon. As the waitress leaves, he wrinkles his nose.

"You call that coffee? It is just sugar. And iced? It's freezing out."

"Oh so first you critique my grade in stats, and now you attack my coffee order? You hate me and want me dead." Your arms fold in front of your chest as you stare at him in mock challenge. His hands shift to rest on his biceps, fingers spreading over the evidently lean muscle there and you fight to keep your breathing steady.

"I retract my statement, I bare you no ill will."

"Yeah you better, me and my sugar coffee will beat the shit out of your boiled coffee grounds." Now it's his turn to raise his eyebrows.

"You mock my drink, a traditional drink from my home country? Now you hate me and want me dead."

A warmth pours over your cheeks and you feel it heat the tips of your ears, all the way down to your shoulders. Something flashes in his gaze that tells you he definitely noticed.

"Touche." It's only a minute more before the waitress returns with your orders, said minute filled with meaningful glances and sitting adjustments on your part, your hip still aches slightly, but it's easier to ignore at this point.

You're mid sip when he fixes you with a stare, hands wrapped around his own drink, and asks, "So I can rule out anything to do with statistics, but what do you do, miss (name)? I believe you referred to yourself as an 'art kid'?"

Ah, the tricky part of explaining what you do to an academic. Not to say you weren't an academic yourself, just…a very different flavor of it.

"Yeah. In college I dual majored in Psychology and Theatre Arts. So I feel like I play both sides of the field, despite how many of the other scientists refuse to recognize psychology as a science." You spit the word as if it were a dagger, still holding a vendetta against your 11th-grade physics teacher who called it a pseudo-science.

"But my real love is Theatre. Whether it be Musicals or Shakespeare, it's my passion. I dialect coach on the side to make extra money, but mostly I love performing." There it was, out in the open. Would he call you foolish? Tell you to get a real career? Get up and leave? Probably not, but anxiety can lead you to places you wouldn't dare venture with a gun.

Pensive, he sits, staring at you with renewed interest, "Your impulsivity must suit you well in that career path, always having to think on ones feet and remain immersed in the moment." You instantly smile again.

"Exactly! There have been so many times when people have forgotten their lines and I've had to come up with something on the fly. It's…exhilarating." There's a certain sparkle that lights up your face whenever you talk about theatre, it's your passion, you can't help it. You only hope it translates.

"I know it must seem silly, pursuing the arts. Hell you're probably going to go on to change the world in a field like 'biomedical engineering'." You muse, leaning your cheek into your hand as you meet his eyes. It flatters him, you can tell, as he shifts in his seat, puffing his chest out slightly in pride.

"While I thank you for your vote of enthusiasm, I do not find it silly to pursue the arts at all."

"You don't?"

"No. I find it inspiring that you are pursuing your dream. I am pursuing mine. We should all chase after what we want." His eyes are thoughtful, kind, and you want to swim in them forever.

A beat, then, "A lot of people have called me stupid. But I can't see myself doing anything else. I know it's cheesy to say, but it feels fated. Like, I'm supposed to be doing this. It's what my atoms traveled billions of years to do." Staring into your cup, you're hit with the intensity of this confession. It's not something you tell to most people.

"And…" he clears his throat, "I think it is the most admirable thing one can do, to follow what you believe your destiny to be." Good god you like this man, you like Viktor. Not just as an infatuation or a crush, you want to get to know him.

"Thank you, Viktor." Another sip of your drink and the sugar spurs you onward, "Do you happen to like theatre? I'm sure an English lit class somewhere forced you to read at least one Shakespeare play. They did always seem to make the STEM kids suffer through classic literature as some sort of revenge for putting us art kids through math." His gaze fixes you to your spot and you find that even if you wanted to, you wouldn't be able to pull away from it. It's hypnotizing and has you pinned with the sheer force of it. You were learning that above all else, Viktor had a quiet intensity to him.

"I have read my fair share of Shakespeare as well as a few greek plays, but I admit, I read them mostly from an analytical standpoint, and not for mere enjoyment or to marvel in the artistry. My favorite would probably have to be Macbeth, though." He takes another sip of his coffee that still has steam curling off the top of it.

You nod approvingly, "A splendid choice. Your aesthetic certainly fits the more tragic, macabre, dramatic plays. Though I could see you enjoying Much Ado About Nothing."

"I…thank you?" Eyebrows pinched in confusion, he laughs.

"No, no it's a compliment! You just have a very…dark acedmia, gothic vibe to you. it…it tracks."

He leans back in his seat, "Gothic?"

"Yeah. it's incredibly attractive don't worry."

…

Wait-

"Incredibly attractive you say?" And he's sipping on his coffee again, watching as that all too familiar flush spreads over your skin again. Damn your mouth.

"You…I…hell-" You sip your coffee in an effort to keep yourself quiet. He's making you bolder, making you feel comfortable, loosening your tongue, beckoning you into the sea like a siren and you're not sure if you'll be able to tread water.

"Hey," his voice is soft, coaxing, "for what it is worth, I too find you incredibly attractive. I'm sorry, I did not mean to make you so flustered." The sincerity in his voice has you reeling. Placing your coffee down, you rubs at your cheeks with your hands.

"Somehow, I find it hard to believe you're that sorry when you seem so pleased with yourself watching me flush." You accuse, somewhat parroting what he said about you denying your impulsivity. Now it's his turn to flush, his pale cheeks turning rosey at having being caught.

A comfortable silence washes over the both of you momentarily as you sit with the confessions that have just been made. Well…it's nice to know that the attraction is mutual. Both of your coffee's were near finished by this point, and there was a part of you that regretted how fast you drank it.

"How is your leg?" He breaks the silence after the waitress returns to take away your empty glasses. You roll your hips slightly, testing the tension and how far the pain radiates.

"Mm, better. Could be worse, it's starting to ebb finally, but I'm still planning on slathering that Arnicare you recommended all over my leg and laying in my bed until the pain finally goes away." You conclude, hoping to God that the Arnicare works as well as he's hyping it up. "Maybe go crazy and light a lavender candle."

He's digging something out of his bag as he responds, "I'm glad it is feeling slightly better. I fully endorse the Arnicare, it has helped me immensely over the years and I trust it will help you too." The waitress returns to drop off the check and it's too late that you realize Viktor had been looking for his wallet as he places money in the little booklet and hands it back to her with a soft, "Keep the change."

You stare at him in mock offense.

"What?"

"Don't what me, you didn't even let me attempt-"

"There was no universe in which I was going to let you pay, so why even entertain it?"

"Let me pay? You are evil." But you're smiling as you slide out of the booth.

"Maybe so." Is all he says as he stands up, readjusting his shirt and grabbing for his coat. Checking your watch, you realize it's 10:45 and you've spent nearly an hour with this man, and yet it feels as though it's only been minutes. Bidding goodnight to the workers, you bothexit the shop and are hit with a blast of cold air.

"Why are you…you did not bring a jacket?" Viktor stares at you as if you've grown another head. "Are you…it is below freezing out!"

You pause, and breathe in the crisp cold air, "I like the cold, it's not so bad, I promise I'm ok." But he's already moving to grab the scarf from around his neck and balance his cane on his arm.

"Viktor-"

"Shush." Your mouth shuts and you let him wind the red scarf around your neck. It smells like him, woody and warm and you know you'll be breathing it in later.

"Bláznivá žena." He murmurs in what you can only assume is his mother tongue.

"Well, that didn't sound very nice." You chide. His hands still as he finishes securing the scarf. Whatever he was about to say dies on his lips as he stares down at you. Despite the freezing air swirling around you, everything suddenly feels warm. And you know how cliche it sounds, but truly, it feels as though the world melts away and you are stuck in this little circle of warmth.

He looks from your eyes to your lips, "Can I-"

"Absolutely." You answer far too quickly. He laughs again, and its lighter than the others, as if a weight has been taken off of his chest and the laugh had been filled with air, just waiting to escape.

He wastes no time in bringing his hands up to your wind bitten cheeks and pulling your lips to his. They're slightly chapped, but warm and sure and soft as he kisses you. Your breath is gone and you realize every cheesy thing you've ever read about kisses is true. It is all encompassing and earth-shattering. If you knew anything about physics you would say that it feels like atoms colliding.

Seconds, minutes, hours, you don't know how long it is before you finally detach. You leave your eyes closed for a few seconds more, basking in the feeling.

"Wow." It's barely a whisper when you finally speak, opening your eyes to find him staring down at you, smiling unabashedly.

"My thoughts, exactly." His hands slips down your shoulders before one of them finds your hand, the other taking his cane as he leads you back to the parking lot. It's nice, just walking hand in hand with him to your cars.

"This is me." You murmur sadly as you come upon your car, parked in the handicapped parking spot. He stops and looks at you in disbelief, and you furrow your brows in confusion. His hand detaches from yours, reaching into his pocket and pulling out his car keys, clicking the unlock button. The car parked directly next to your beeps and unlocks. You'd parked right next to one another and you absolutely lose it, doubling over in laughter.

"Oh my god that is crazy."

"Well, given the fact that we both have handicapped stickers-"

"Nope, shush, let me have this." You turn back to him after catching your breath and hold out your hand, "Let me see your phone."

He obliges, even unlocking it for you before dropping it into your waiting hand. With half numb fingers, you input your phone number and contact info before returning it to him.

"To let you know how well your recommendation works." You smile as you head toward your drivers side door, unlocking it and sliding into the seat so quickly, you leave Viktor stunned. He shakes his head in mock annoyance and walks over to your window, tapping on it until you roll it down.

"Yes?" But he's leaning in and kissing you again, stealing the breath right out of your lungs. When he pulls away, you're left just as stunned as he was.

"Nothing, just wanted to say Goodnight." He walks off, gets into his own car, right next to you, and drives off, all while you're sitting in your car, window still down, and processing what just happened as the cold blasts you.

Wordlessly, you roll up your window and smile uncontrollably.

For the first time in your life, you are thankful for your chronic pain.

[cinnaminhon]

behind the seams | lee minho

idol!leeknow x stylist!reader

➵ summary: as a stylist for stray kids, with your main client as lee minho, you can’t resist dressing him in outfits that fuel your secret crush—tight fits, low necklines, the works. but leeknow knows more than he lets on. suspiciously flirty since the past few concerts, he is constantly teasing you with sly comments and lingering stares. it’s not until you put him in a dangerous outfit does he call you out on it, and boy you did not regret the aftermath at all

genre: smut!! mdni!!

warnings: profanity, explicit sexual content, unprotected sex, dirty talk, graphical descriptions of sex, leeknow and y/n go at it backstage, implied also at their dorm, also the dance practice room, eh they’re both whipped. mentions of voyeurism, mentions public sex, discussion of kinks and sexual fantasies but nothing is specified, a LOT of bickering and a hell lot of sexual tension.

wc: 6k

a/n: this is VERY self indulgent. it’s finals week and i came across this one compilation reel of angry leeknow vs his outfits and i had this idea ffsfsfssfs i couldn’t get it out of my head and HAD to write it. enjoy ;) also, UNEDITED

one

you loved your job. you really did! absolutely adored it with every inch of you. being a stylist for one of the biggest idol groups had always been a dream out of reach, so when you were finally extended that offer, you gladly left your previous one to work for stray kids instead.

you loved fashion and all things related to it, even as a kid, you would often dress your dolls up in your own creations and that was enough for your parents to enroll you into design classes. from a very young age, your keen eye for fashion was evident, and your skills only grew with each experience you encountered. after graduating from a prestigious fashion school with your B.A in fashion design, you got the best job opportunities which you loved.

the first few jobs had been tough, no lie, but as your expertise grew, you found yourself designing for luxury brands, and more and more celebrities reached out with personal orders. it wasn’t long before you were transitioning from mere designing to personal styling too, your eye for aesthetics always helping you shine in the field.

immediately becoming a favourite in the area, you had numerous opportunities to work and network with various celebrities, but nothing ever came close to the exhilaration you felt when your company revealed to you the latest offer: be a main stylist for stray kids.

it was like heavens descended on you, god himself knocked on your door and blessed with you with the only thing you’d ever dreamed of. of course styling celebrities was something you loved, but having the chance to style stray kids? it didn’t take you a week to accept the offer and by the next monday, you were at their company, signing the contracts with them.

you weren’t one to give your past up no, you would have stayed in your older position which paid really well and worked with your passion, had it not been for the client in question. approaches from kpop groups were not foreign to you, so when you finally accepted one by stray kids in one go, your boss was really surprised.

“are you sure you want to do this y/n? you’ll still be signed with us should you choose to, but you’ll be expressly under jyp’s terms and conditions. none of my powers will protect you there nor will you enjoy any protection or support form our company. you’ll be completely at their beck and call to do as they please.” she’d said in a concerned manner, letting you know all the pros and cons in a professional yet gentle manner. that and she also wanted to try and retain her top talent.

“i read the contracts, and had my lawyer go through it too. i understand the conditions and i am willing to work with them,” you’d told her, confident and firm in your stance.

this was new, really, and the look on your boss’ face told you just out of character this seemed. no wonder everyone would conspire if there was a deeper meaning, a more suitable reason to as to why you were suddenly accepting this offer after rejecting thousands of kpop groups.your politely dismissed all such rumours, simply citing that you wanted to try something new after 5 years of designing and styling other kinds of celebrities. the kpop scene would be new and you were excited.

so as you sat at the company, your lawyer in attendance. you couldn’t help but bite back the smile threatening to grace your lips. when you finally agreed on all terms and negotiated a few which you could, you picked the pen up and signed on the sheet.

oh really, there was no reason behind you picking this offer at once.

definitely not the prospect of getting to style lee minho up close and personal…. definitely not that.

——

two

you’d been with skz for about 8 months now, and styled them for multiple concerts and a few music videos too. you weren’t sure when your job stopped feeling like a job. it had became a part of your life that you now passionately adored and would never want to change. being a stylist for stray kids wasn’t just about picking outfits—it was about understanding their personalities, their moods, and sometimes the things they didn’t say. somehow, you always understood lee minho the most.

or maybe…just maybe… you liked how good he would look in anything you picked out for him. it was a silly thing really, how much it bothered you that what he was wearing had been decided by you, of all the people, you.

you wouldn’t admit it out loud, but dressing him was your favorite part of the job. every time you chose an outfit for him, it felt personal, like you were creating something just for him. and maybe, in a way, you were.

you spent more time on his outfits than you probably should have. you’d carefully consider every detail—what color would bring out his sharp features, what cut would highlight his broad shoulders, what style would match his quiet confidence. what would highlight those strong, toned thighs, bring out those biceps, his hard chest and his milky neck…. it almost felt illegal to be so invested in your client. it wasn’t just about him looking good for the cameras; it was about knowing that you were the one behind it.

but you were a professional. so every day, you pushed the feelings down and focused on your job—making sure the fabrics and fits were just right, making sure they all looked their best. still, sometimes your fingers lingered a little too long when you adjusted his jacket. and every time he looked at you, you couldn’t help but wonder if he saw more than just the stylist who made sure his clothes fit.

how could you not be absolutely obsessed with that walking god? the way he carried himself had you on your knees, and all he had to do was look at you to have you craving for him. it didn’t help that he liked your designs, even if he didn’t show huge reactions, you could tell it from the way he would take extra care to not ruin the look, stand and sit straighter, keep checking in the mirror to not ruin the style you spent so much time to perfect for him.

and his body oh god, you absolutely loved taking inspiration from the way he moved so gracefully. it wasn’t hard to imagine clothes for him, but you’d be lying if you didn’t admit….you liked putting him in slightly…dangerous clothes at times.

fabrics that would slip, shirts that would be tight at the arms, or necklines that would be deeper than what was defined for them. you couldn’t help it, there was something about seeing an angry minho trying to fix his outfit on stage that had you squirming in your seat.

it started out as a mistake, you ended up giving him longer than usual sleeves and he kept pushing them up his arms, naturally it made the stays go crazy and the fancam went viral. he didn’t say much, just asked you to be careful next time and you nodded. however, once he realised just how much his fans liked seeing him that way, he had other thoughts.

“you seem to know what the fans like” he said, entering the dressing room where the two of you were alone. he had just come back after performing his solo and had to get ready for the next group song. the members all had private changing rooms at their arena tour concerts for ease and privacy during their solo performances, and of course, you were minho’s designated stylist.

“that’s my job isn’t it?” you grinned, noticing that the shirt was doing hat it was supposed to, hanging meekly on his strong frame and exposing his sharp collarbones. you tried not to make it obvious but you were staring. how could you not when he was looking like that in front of you?

“true, in fact, i believe you know a little too much about how to dress me up for the female gaze.” he hummed, taking a towel to wipe the sweat around his neck and walk over towards you.

you looked away from the greek god before you and pretended to fix his jacket. “huh?” you stuttered, ignoring him as he leaned behind you, his chest pressing against your back and you did everything you could in your power to not melt into his hold.

“we both know what im talking about darling” he muttered into your ear as you heard him peek his sticky, sweaty shirt off, throwing it on the table. “come on, you’re so bold with the clothes you pick, what’s wrong now? cat got your tongue?” he teased at your lack of response, taking note of the way your ears turned red and chest raised and fell so quickly.

“i-“ you began, turning around meekly to hand him his next piece for the nest song, ignoring his naked body inches from you.

“it’s okay kitten, i won’t tell.” he mused, a sly smirk on his face as he took the short, brushing his fingers against yours to grab it. “in fact, i’ll let you” he winked, putting the shirt on in seconds and leaving you standing there.

fuck, that man would be the death of you.

——

three

the next time, you dressed him in a pair of pants just tight enough to reveal his thighs, the shape, the tone, the muscle….oh when he stood in that pose before beginning the performance, you swore you felt yourself shiver just looking at him. sure they were a little more tight and firm fitting than what he usually wore but he’d given you permission…right?

you couldn’t count the number of times you’d imagined what it would feel like to rub yourself on his thick thighs, how he would softly grab your waist, kiss your rough and talk you through it sweetly. you could picture him teasing you, smirking at you, making you feel things you didn’t think were possible.

the performance was a huge success, and the boys came back to the room, clapping along with the staff in joy and satisfaction. you greeted them all, celebrating for a while before you headed back to check on what they would have to wear for the rest of the program.

“thinking of other ways to make me appealing to stays are you?” minho chuckled as he entered the dressing room, leaning across the door frame.

it started as harmless teasing—at least, that’s what you told yourself. minho always had a sharp tongue and a smirk that could make your knees weak if you let it, but lately, it felt different. his comments lingered longer and the space between you seemed to shrink even when neither of you moved.

“come here” you said instead, grabbing the jacket he was supposed to put on.

he obliged a little too easily, not before locking the door after him, and you found it strange. no teasing or flirty remarks this time? that was new.

“you like dressing me up, don’t you?” he said, his voice low, almost lazy, as you adjusted the collar of his jacket.

“it’s my job,” you hummed, keeping your tone neutral even as your pulse raced. but you did notice that his eyes followed the movement of your hands.

“doesn’t feel like just a job,” he murmured, tilting his head slightly so his face was closer to yours. your breath hitched, and you quickly stepped back, pretending to fuss over a wrinkle that wasn’t even there.

“stop moving, or the jacket won’t sit right,” you muttered, avoiding his gaze.

but he didn’t stop. instead, he leaned closer, so close you could feel the faint warmth of his breath against your skin. “maybe you like it when i don’t listen,” he said, his voice just above a whisper, and you froze.

your eyes flicked up to his and there was something darker in his gaze, something that made your stomach twist in a way you couldn’t ignore.

“you’re impossible,” you said, trying to sound annoyed.

he just smirked. “and yet, you’re still here.” then he moved away, walking past you to go check himself in the mirror.

your eyes followed his lean body, unable to tear your gaze away.

“you’re staring,” he said once, catching you off guard as you watched him adjust his sleeves in the mirror.

“i’m making sure it fits right,” you lied, your voice a little too defensive.

he turned to face you, his smirk melting into a smile. “is that all it is?”

your throat went dry, and for a moment, you couldn’t find the words.

“minho, i—” you began, worried that you’d made him uncomfortable, scared that you’d taken this game too far and had crossed into the like of being unprofessional-

“relax,” he interrupted, stepping closer until there was barely any space left between you. “i don’t mind if you look.”

he reached out, his fingers brushing yours as he adjusted the measuring tape hanging from your hand.

“im your canvas anyway kitten” he winked before leaving the room once again.

——

four

this was a big award show for the kids, and you had to make sure they looked perfect. so you did what you had to, you picked out the perfect black zip up tee that you’d been saving.

minho had been working out, you could tell with the way his measurements changed and the way his muscles flexed underneath your hands when you dressed him or measured him. this tee would be the perfect fit on his body, it would highlight all the-

you stopped yourself from going too far.

as you put it on him, you couldn’t help but stare. it was a little riskier than usual, but you couldn’t help yourself. the way it clung to his frame in the fitting room was almost too much.

you adjusted the zipper just so, leaving it open just enough to give a hint of skin—teasing, but still tasteful. or at least, that’s what you convinced yourself.

“this works,” you murmured, stepping back to admire the way the outfit pulled together.

minho gave you a once-over in the mirror, his expression unreadable. “a bit much, don’t you think?”

“not if you can pull it off,” you supplied.

“it looks like it’s painted on,” he muttered

“exactly,” you teased, biting the inside of your cheek to keep from smiling too wide. “you’ll thank me when you see the photos later.”

it fit even better than you imagined, clinging to his chest and tapering perfectly at his waist. the zipper glinted under the dressing room lights, catching your eye as he adjusted it just slightly.

“you’ve got that look again,” he said, breaking your thoughts.

“what look?” you asked, playing innocent, though you could feel the heat creeping up your neck.

“like you’re too proud of yourself,” he said, smirking as he turned to the mirror.

you stepped forward, tugging along the zipper to adjust it. “it’s my job to make sure you look good,” you said, your voice quieter now that you were so close.

he watched you through the mirror, his gaze dark and steady. “you sure that’s the only reason?”

you froze for a second before stepping back, clearing your throat. “stop fishing for compliments, minho.”

he chuckled, “so... halfway, or all the way up?”

you tilted your head, considering. “halfway. it’s... more balanced.”

“more balanced,” he echoed, the corner of his mouth curling up. “not because you want everyone to stare?”

your cheeks burned “i’m thinking about the aesthetic, not—whatever you’re implying.”

he leaned against the counter, his arms crossing over his chest. “right. sure. just aesthetic.”

“just get out there,” you said, waving him toward the door and he laughed, “okay okay,” he nodded, “i’ll go and perform well in your outfit miss” he teased one last time before walking out to join the group.

oh he was insufferable.

five

fuck fuck fuck….you watched the performance as the song began, and a dread filled you. in all your teasing with him, you forgot to secure the zipper. fuck, no, what if,,, nah, case 143 choreo wasn’t that hard was it? it won’t slip down. why would it? it’s not like minho has a strong dance break in that song….

you were proven wrong right as the final leg of the performance began. the zipper, which you’d adjusted to sit slightly open for a teasing effect, slid further down as he danced, exposing more of his chest than either of you intended. the crowd went wild, the cameras zeroed in on him, and while the rest of the group laughed it off backstage, minho wasn’t as amused.

you were in the dressing room when he walked in, still flushed from the performance, his jaw tight and eyes sharp. you barely had time to open your mouth before he shut the door behind him with a little too much force. you knew the second he stormed into the dressing room that you were in trouble. he didn’t say anything at first, just shut the door behind him with a force.

“what the hell was that?” his voice was low, controlled, but there was an unmistakable frustration behind it.

“the zipper?” you asked, trying to play it cool even as your pulse quickened.

“yes, the zipper,” he snapped, taking a step closer. his hair was slightly damp from sweat, clinging to his forehead, and the way he looked at you—frustrated, intense—made it hard to think straight.

“it wasn’t supposed to go that far down,” you said quickly, reaching for an excuse. “it must’ve slipped—”

“slipped,” he repeated, his tone heavy with disbelief. his gaze dropped to your hands, and then back up to your face, his lips curving into a dangerous smirk. “you’re telling me this was an accident?”

“of course it was,” you shot back, though your voice wavered slightly under his stare.

“really?” he snapped, his voice rising slightly. “because it sure looked like you wanted every single person in that crowd to see me like that.” he moved closer so that he was inches before you.

your cheeks burned, and you took a step back, only to find yourself against the counter. “i was just doing my job,” you muttered, trying to sound unaffected, but the way he was looking at you—like he was ready to devour you—made it nearly impossible to focus on the unholy thoughts wrecking your brain.

“your job,” he repeated, leaning in until his face was inches from yours. his hands came up to rest on either side of you, trapping you in place. “you’ve been awfully hands-on lately, haven’t you? fixing collars, adjusting sleeves, picking out clothes that fit just right.” his hands came to grab the ends of the measure tape across your body, one that you used and hung around your neck.

you swallowed hard, your heart pounding in your chest. “minho, i—”

"you what?" he taunted, hands tightening around the tape and he pulled it slowly, deliberately till you were closer to him.

“is this part of your job too?” he murmured, his voice low and dangerous. his hand moved to the zipper on his chest, fingers brushing it as he tugged it down another inch, exposing more of his skin.

“minho,” you breathed, barely able to get the word out.

“what?” he challenged, his lips curling into a smirk that was equal parts angry and... something else. “you seemed to enjoy dressing me like this. or maybe you just wanted a better view.”

your cheeks burned, your heart pounding so loudly you were sure he could hear it. “that’s not—”

“don’t lie to me,” he growled, his hand slamming against the counter behind you, caging you in completely. his face was so close now, you could see the tension in his jaw, the way his tongue flicked over his teeth like he was barely holding himself back. “every touch, every look—don’t think i haven’t noticed.”

his words were sharp, cutting, but the way his eyes roamed your face made your knees weak. "minho i wasn't-" you stuttered, trying your best to ignore the way your panties felt more and more damp and uncomfortable to be in. subconsciously, you pressed your thighs together at the glare minho gave you. he was furious enough to make you lose your senses, you couldn't even think properly, much less speak.

this scene before you was straight out of your fantasies.

“you wanted attention?” he asked, his tone mocking. “you’ve got it. so tell me—was this for you, or for them?” he chuckled darkly, placing an arm around your waist, holding you tight as the other one came to pull your chin to face him.

“it wasn’t—” your voice cracked, and you swallowed hard, trying to steady yourself. “it wasn’t like that.”

"then what was it like kitten?" he tilted his head lower, lips brushing against yours and you sighed, melting into his hold. "can you tell me?"

"i-" you began, "i just wanted to dress you in an attractive manner-" you mumbled but he wasn't having it. he wanted to hear it, from your own mouth. hear you say how stupid obsessed you were with him and how it led you to do this.

he needed to hear that you wanted this as much as he did.

“you don’t get to play innocent after that,” he continued, his voice dropping even lower. “i saw the way you looked at me when you zipped this up earlier. you knew exactly what you were doing.”

his thumb brushed your bottom lip, and the slight, almost careless dominance in the gesture left you speechless.

“nothing to say now?” his smirk was sharp, dangerous, as his eyes roamed over your face. “you were so bold earlier, picking this out for me. so confident.” he breathed out.

“minho,” you finally managed to whisper, though it came out shaky, barely audible.

“what?” he pressed, his tone mocking yet laced with something darker. “don’t tell me you can’t handle the consequences of your little games.”

his fingers trailed along the edge of the zipper on his chest, tugging it down another inch as he watched your reaction. "i won't do shit to you until you admit it kitten, you're the one dragging this out." he hissed, his hand coming to grip your neck and tilt it back, while his knee pushed between your thighs, rubbing against your wet core. "at least pretend like you're not into this kitten, ive seen you push your thighs together thrice already.'" he scoffed lightly, his touch on your neck sending shivers down your spine. "admit it," he murmured "or i will you here like this, wet, desperate and needy" he hissed in your ear and you broke.

"go on," he teased, the challenge clear in his tone. "say it. i want to hear you admit exactly what’s been running through that pretty little head of yours."

"i...i did it on purpose" you choke out and he hums in approval. “i dressed you up because i liked seeing you in these kinds of outfits”

he lets out a chuckle, his grip loosening as he leans back to get a good look at you. “so my kitten admits it wasn’t for her job, but rather because she found me attractive?” he rose a brow, daring you to disagree.

the sheer confidence, the cocky arrogance had you folding already and you nod, placing your hands on his chest, desperate for his touch.

“there’s my good girl” he smiled, leaning closer. “what do you want me to do then kitten?” he tilted his head, waiting for your approval before he took this far into the other line.

“kiss me minho, please.” you whispered and you had barely completed your sentence before his mouth had descended on yours.

the kiss was hot and heavy, laced with need and desperation. his lips moulded with yours with a strange urgency, as if he’d been dying to have you. his hands clawed at your body, struggling to feel all of you at once.

when you came up for air, he barely let you breathe for two seconds before he was kissing you again, knocking the air out of your lungs.

“mhh-“ you moaned into the kiss, eliciting a grown from the man kissing you.

“fuck kitten, you’re gonna be the death of me” he hissed, pulling away and grabbing your chin to look at the mess he’d made.

your lipstick was smudged, lips swollen, bitten, rightfully so, and covered in a sheen of his spit.

you looked beautiful.

“more- please” you whimper and he obliges, he would be stupid to say no.

“more? what does my kitten want huh? for me to touch her? where?” he played with you, pushing you up on the counter table and standing between your thighs as his hand came to run over your clothed cunt. “here?” he teased, watching you throw your head back and whimper a meek yes.

“aww, haven’t even done much yet” he cooed, pulling your skirt to your waist, eyes locking in on the wet patch on your light pink cotton panties. “fuck, have you been this wet since you dressed me up?” he said, his eyes blown wide with lust.

you gulped, your hands fisted at your sides and nodded softly, and that seemed to make minho lose his mind for he groaned and threw his head back.

“fucking hell” he whispered more to himself, “seeing me in this did that to you?” he chuckled, pulling you closer. “want me to take care of it kitten?”

you could only nod, lost in the situation that you’d wanted for god knows how long.

“not quite yet baby, you’ll have to get wetter for me yeah? show me how bad you want me” he winked, pointing to the zipper and your eyes lit up.

“can i-“ you began

“everything you’ve imagined baby, do it to me” he nodded, pulling you closer by your neck till your lips were against the zip. “use that pretty mouth” he ordered.

your lips wrapped around the zipper, taking care to not touch your teeth because you hated the feeling of metal on them, and pulled it down, all the way down, revealing his naked body before you to admire.

your lip nipped slightly in the process of keeping your teeth away and minho all but pulled you up to suck on the wound, turning it into a kiss that ended with his hands in your panties.

“shit baby, you’re so fucking wet, do you hear yourself?” he moaned, leaving kisses all down your neck while his thumb worked on your clit, two of his fingers curling inside your hot, wet cunt. “taking my fingers so well, i wonder if that cunt can take my cock that well too” he chuckled, earning a deep moan out of you.

“shh baby, don’t forget, we’re still in public” he warned, sticking his fingers inside your mouth to suck on while he pushed yet a third one inside your pussy, fucking you with them both simultaneously.

oh how you loved him being ambidextrous.

“shit” he grunted when you began to shudder around his fingers, and he pulled them out before you could cum, putting them inside his mouth at once to suck them clean.

“mhm, sweetest taste baby, was so fucking worth the wait” he groaned, kissing you and making you taste yourself.

“im going to fuck you now okay baby?” he rose a brow, laying you back on the table.

“please, please minho, i, i cant-“ you began, and he paused, eyes widening as he cupped your cheeks.

“hey hey, you want to stop? did i hurt you?” he asked, tender worry in his eyes and guilt.

your heart warmed and you shook your head. “no no, im fine, it’s just that…could you keep the shirt on while you fuck me?” you asked, tracing your hand down the shirt and leaning ahead to kiss it.

“aw baby fuck, you can’t just- you can’t do that and expect me to stay still” he hissed, hands coming into your hair once you gave him the green light again.

he let you play with him, kissing his chest, biting, licking, all you want while he played with your hair and mumbled how good you were being for him and how amazing you were making him feel.

“is my kitty satisfied?” he asked, pulling you back by your hair and making you look up at him.

“not yet” you pout, and he swears he loses it. how could you be so fucking hot and cute at the same time?

“what else baby?”

“cock.” you pout, a little huff leaving your lips and he swears he lost his mind. “want your cock min, want to suck your cock” you plead.

the shaky breath he takes tells you everything you need to know about how you were on the edge of his self control at that point.

“baby…” he breathes out, “as badly as i want that pretty mouth around my cock, i want to fuck that cunt before i have to be up on the stage again” he mumbles darkly, his hands on your waist as he lays you back. “is that okay with you? i promise kitten, i’ll let you do whatever you want once the program ends yeah? but i’ve only got a little time left and i can’t leave you needy here yeah? i can’t go out there’s without fucking that pussy with my cock after seeing it take my fingers so well baby i’ll lose my mind on stage” he grunts as you nod, letting him know you were okay with him going a little rough and faster than before.

“i don’t, i don’t have a condom though.” he said with a sudden realisation, pulling back to cup your cheek. “how about i just eat you out instead?” he offered, but you shook your head.

“im on birth control,” you said at once, “im clean, i know you are too,” you whisper, “staff privileges” you add with a sly wink and he chuckles.

“i really have quite the obsessed girl here don’t i?” he mumbles a little darkly as he kisses you this time.

“gonna take it yeah? gonna take my cock” he hissed as he unbuckled his pants, leaning down and licking a long stripe over your pussy. “sorry, couldn’t resist” he chuckled before grabbing his cock and placing its tips against your clit, pressing on it and making you whine.

“baby, quiet” he warned sternly as he slowly pushed in, letting his jaw fall open at the pleasure.

your hands came to grab at this shirt on his body, feeling your back arch from the sheer size and girth he carried. “you’re-you’re big” you choke out but you knew that. hey, you fitted his pants too didn’t you?

“but you know that already don’t you kitten? you’re not exactly subtle when measuring me” he cooed, teasing you as he bottomed out all the way, staying there to let you adjust. “fuck baby, you’re taking me so well, so fucking well, just relax a bit more yeah? you’re so wet and so fucking tight i don’t- i don’t want to hold back-“ he grunted, kissing you hard.

“you- you can move” you nod as soon as you feel him get all the way in, he’d worked you up well before and you felt your cunt suck him in.

“ah fuck” he hissed as he pulled out only to push back in, the loud squelch making you both groan. the sounds of his hips slapping against the yours, the creaking of the table, the squelch of your wetness coating him drove you crazy and you couldn’t help but feel your orgasm form earlier struggling to come back.

“min im close-“ you whine.

“already? baby we just started.” he chuckled, grabbing your thighs and pushing your knees to your chest, the angle pushing him deeper and you both moaned at the same time. his fingers came to rub at your clit in tight circles, making your whined get squeakier and your orgasm built up like crazy.

“go on, cum for me yeah? show me how good im making you feel” he cooed, and it didn’t take long for you to feel your orgasm hit you like a truck.

your body shook in waves, your eyes wet from slight tears due to how good it felt and how much pleasure minho was giving you all at once. “fucking goddess” he grunted, staring at you mystified as he kept fucking you through your orgasm, “gonna let me keep going? gonna let me keep fucking this cunt?” he hissed.

“yes, please, need more minho, need you, all of you please” you plead, looking up at him as he went harder, his rhythm losing pace as his own orgasm neared.

“you close min? you’re going to cum for me? cum inside my pussy?” you cooed, watching his expressions contort to one of pure pleasure and he nodded vigorously.

“fuck yes, keep talking to me like that’s baby” he grunted, “gonna fill this pussy with my cum”

“do it, please min, what your cum inside me so bad, want to watch you onstage in my handpicked outfit, with your cum dripping out of my pussy” you whine and that’s when minho loses it.

“cum with me, again yeah? once more please” he moans and you couldn’t say no, not when he was fucking you so good and so deep.

it didn’t take long before the two of you came together, your hands clutching the collar of the shirt as you both stayed close.

“fuck” he moans with sensitivity, slowly pulling out of you and cupping your cheek. “you did so well, so so good for me baby” he cooed, laying soft kisses on your tried face as you tried to catch your breath.

“so did you-“ you gasp, chuckling softly. “did you just tire yourself out before you last stage?” you point out and he just playfully rolled his eyes.

“oh please, my stamina is endless baby. you only saw a quarter of it because i fucked you right after performing three songs in a row. wait till we get back to the dorm and i have you to myself all night” he winked and your brows shot up.

“you want to do this again?” you ask with a slightly hopeful tone and he simply smiled, grabbing a few tissues to clean you up while you laid there.

“of course y/n, i know the order isn’t the best but will you let me take you out to dinner? and then can i be your boyfriend?” he chuckled at the play with words, ironically the lyrics of his own song when that zipper slipped down.

“i could never say no min” you smiled, pulling him into a kiss one last time before you’d both have to get cleaned up and dress him up again.

——

a/n- i hope i wrote it well and you enjoyed it💗

🏷️taglist : @ihrtlix @biribarabiribbaem @alexareawyn @hoes4lino @smlbch @iknow-uknow-leeknow @kissesmellow21 @icantpickabiasugh @wolfs-howling @katsukis1wife @ana-marais98 @lplondynnwoo @yaorzu-blog @still-a-stray @skzworldx @redstayrosie @inaribu00 @millseyes-world @itsacatastrophe-xo @krikalovesstay @harmony0724 @chrizrizz @hantaechan @banjjakbanjjaklurkingagain@emmxxsworld @smut-is-my-therapy @hyunjinsruinedpainting @skzenthusiastt @fairygirl18 @silencionyx @nightmarenyxx @cloudy-lilly @vampiirose @seunmong-in @chuuyaobsessed @0omillo0 @gaby105-skz @ardef38 @madamstay @need-life-motivation @inkandtension @knowytel25 @wh0reforthemarauders @stay1ngsane @skzfairyyydreamz @farfromsugafanfic

red- unable to tag

[mersei47]

finally a proper oc art of mine. Here's "Baron", the first gen grunt that audi happened to pick up from the Nowhere. After that audi decided to adopt hire them under AAHW

more story of them below if yall wanna read

- the perk of being gen 1 is that he able to learn anything quickly so audi just task him to do other works to thats not just AAHW's general stuff, including keeping an eye on Phobos back when the nexus project was still developing as initially planned (but discharged after phobos "died" because audi think it was a waste of time for Baron to continue working there)

- between these time baron got to encounter N51 too, since Im still not sure what is N51's purpose (from arena mode) so Im gonna make shit up, N51 leader is the first gen grunt and they wants to gain control of the machine. they also against auditor too because they dont like the idea of higher power messing with mortals. (N51 whole character boiled down too "I hate gods") one of their many tasks is to find other first gen grunts and there are 2 options, its either recruiting that grunt to their faction to help achieve the purpose (first gens are powerful afterall) or kill them if they defy. Baron barely able to get away from N51 in one piece but he got a scar from a fight too (audi is maaddddd)

- THIS BULLET POINT IS VEEEERY SELF-INDULGENT but I imagine the time when baron was still at nexus core he got to meet deimos (yeah the moon brothers headcanon is in too) and he is one of a few people that phobos ask to help teach dei the fighting stuff (I imagine phobos trust baron to do it because they are both first gens)

[bloodyinkandquill]

Boombox x Reader NSFW

last time i worked on this was november 11th, sorry yall ive had problems with motivation and finals week was last week plus i got sick so i didn’t have much time to work on any requests, hopefully i get back in the swing of things however i am in a hotel about to begin a vacation so my wifi may not be good for a week unfortunately, we shall see i suppose

D/V/S: He’s chill, not big on the dynamics but leans more towards sub he’s a-okay letting you take full control

T/S/B: Switch with a slight preference for bottom, can really do either though

Kinks: Not a kink but let’s establish this immediately, he makes a custom playlist for sex that he always plays, got it? Good. Onto actual kinks he’s not that kinky of a guy in all honesty, he’s more into just casual more low key stuff, that’s not to say he’s against kinks he’s for the most part down with whatever you wanna do, but he does enjoy cuddle fucking and just softer stuff, specifically if he’s topping, he’s also into slight sensory deprivation, specifically sound wise but adding a blindfold is cool with him, it can go either way honestly being depraved or depriving you

More kinks: If he is the bottom he’s a slight masochist, nothing crazy but if you do wanna be rougher with him and man handle him some he likes that a lot, but not too frequently he prefers most of the time chiller stuff, he’s also got a very slight humiliation kink, just more so you making him do stuff to get off that’s a bit embarrassing like watching him hump a pillow or making him hump your leg, again not extremely or super commonly he just does enjoy them on occasion

Aftercare: If he topped he plays a calmer playlist and gets you some snacks and water, he usually isn’t rough when topping so not too too much aftercare is required, at least based on if you had some kinks you wanted to indulge in, if he bottomed he goes semi verbal I feel like, he feels like a guy to be pretty loud in bed so he prefers not to talk much, he just wants to cuddle a lot afterwards and make content hums and sleep, one of the only times he’s quiet honestly

oh my gods lets go i did it, going into this i had like no ideas, i’ll be so real i genuinely don’t have like any strong opinions towards him or skateboard not in self shipping specific just in general, which is a bit ironic i main (see literally only know how to play) slingshot in phighting and they’re his best friends so me not really caring about them is funny, but yeah hope these are good, i might do my next request but i was on the road all day and im tired so i might fall asleep before finishing it we shall see

[wanderingibon]

a flock of birds, a crow family — everything aside, despite viago's frosty, stern demeanor I think both he and teia care about rook like family, in a way that goes past the pretenses of being a crow or just part of house de riva, they're literally found family to meeeeee

and while you have time, please consider finding a family on op. olive branch 🍉 and supporting / sharing their campaigns, especially the ones with low funding <3

[myokk]

A super fast scribble of Sebastian and Anne as kids💓

In my mind they were absolutely wild growing up, their parents pushing them outside in the morning with a picnic basket, to just run around in the fields & forests around their hamlet all day, coming home in time for dinner (totally inspired by my childhood growing up in a tiny village of 300 people 😂🫶). They always read together as a family by the candlelight before going to bed, and they’re memories that Sebastian and Anne cherish.

Also, Anne definitely took charge of their adventures and Sebastian was just happy to follow her around like a little puppy 💓💓

Bahhhh i just love thinking about their siblings dynamic 🤧🥰 sorry for my rambling haha

[skrrtscree]

.. an eternal promise, in another life ..💍🤍

[ganondoodle]

you know when you have an idea for a drawing and it just wont let you rest until you at least sketched it?

... yeah

....

demise and hylia (humanoid forms) sleepy cuddles o((>ω< ))o

[volivolition]

part of that "raising a kid au" i was working on, this is almost definitely not how skill checks work and i don't even know if i'll include this, but for now i think it's. so funny kjkgj

[disposal-blueeee]

[thesylverlining]

Might be spite-writing baby's first Disco Elysium fanfic

Because a bitch (me, I'm bitch) saw one too many things that slimmed Harry down (presented as an unambiguous Good Thing) so I had to write Kim adoring his belly before I turned into the got dang Joker

[maginnmauvaise]

[lizstiel]

Dean’s sitting at the kitchen table eating meatloaf when it all sort of hits – and he’s desperate to remember it exactly how it happened.

With his fork raised halfway to his mouth, a dollop of meat and sauce perched precariously on the tines, his eyes wandered over to where Cas stood by the sink in a pair of ratty pajama bottoms and one of Dean’s old t-shirts. (One of Dean’s old t-shirts, because once Cas gets his shoulders into them they never really sit the same way.)

He’s got soap up to his elbows, scrubbing methodically at the dishes Dean just dirtied, his brow a taught, concentrated line. He’s bringing the same kind of meticulous focus to the dishes that he used to bring to leading the armies of Heaven; that singular kind of attention, both unnerving and admirable. (Dean had once tried to explain that he didn’t need to wash them quite so vigorously, to which Cas had deadpanned, “Do you know how many food particles remain on the dishes you wash, Dean?” It quickly became his job, after that.)

It’s early July. About 6:30pm. The window over the sink is cracked, and the front door is wide open, letting the sound of cicadas and crickets drift in with the summer breeze. The sun’s starting to set behind the field, casting the world in that particular orange glow that has always made something in Dean ache. In the other room, the record player Sam got them for Christmas plays a beat up Janis Joplin record he’d found at a secondhand store in town. The opening chords of Me and Bobby McGee have just started, and the cicadas are humming, and the crickets are singing, and the sun is setting, and Cas is standing in old pajamas washing dishes Dean just used to make them dinner and –

Cas tilts his head.

This isn’t revolutionary. He does it a lot. A very ingrained behavior, some might say. But he isn’t confused, he’s reacting. To the song. He doesn’t react to music the way Dean wants him to, never has, but in his own way, it’s almost like he’s leaning closer to hear it. An infinitesimal thing. The smallest gesture. The corner of his mouth twitches, and Dean has never loved him more than he does at this moment: backlit by a summer sunset in their house in the middle of nowhere, hand washing dishes and listening to Janis Joplin.

Cas turns when the sound of Dean’s fork clattering on the plate sounds, but Dean just scoops him into his arms, chases any worries away with a kiss, and then another, and then one more for good measure. Cas laughs against his mouth, desperately trying to keep his soapy arms away from Dean’s dry clothes. “Dean,” he chides, squirming and chuckling, trying to extract himself from Dean’s grip. “I’m not finished.”

“I’ll get ‘em tomorrow,” Dean promises, peppering sweet little kisses down the line of Cas' throat. He hasn’t shaved in a couple of days. It tickles all the way down. “Love you so much,” he says, because he wants to. Because he’s so full with it he’s overflowing. Because if he doesn’t tell him right now, in this moment, and every moment after this one, he might die. He needs him to know. It’s vital that he knows.

Cas’ laughter warms, and he slides one soapy hand to the back of Dean’s neck, eyebrows raised in challenge when he shudders at the sensation. When Dean doesn’t immediately shoo him away, he slides the other soapy hand up Dean’s arm. “Dean?” He’s not worried, the timber of his voice is honey-smooth and light, but he’s confused. Not that Dean doesn’t tell him often, and loudly, how much he loves him, but to be fair this did kind of come from nowhere, so he understands. It’s just much too much. It’s not enough and it’s everything. It’s everything in the world Dean has ever wanted.

Janis Joplin is singing freedom is just another word for nothing left to lose, and Dean’s arms are loose around Cas’ waist, and he loves him, god he loves him so much, so he kisses him on one corner of the mouth, and then the other. Janis says, nothin’, don’t mean nothin’ hon’ if it ain’t free, no, no – and he rocks their bodies together, slow, to the beat of the music. Cas’ arms come to wind around his neck automatically, and his smile starts to sprawl into something reserved for only the really good moments. Wide and gummy and for Dean – and feelin’ good was easy, Lord, when he sang the blues. He presses his forehead to Cas’ and they just sort of sway there like that, smiling at each other like this might be the last chance they ever get.

Cas says – “I love you, Dean,” just as Janis is singing, you know feelin’ good was good enough for me – and it occurs to Dean that he’s dancing in the kitchen with the love of his life. He thinks back to the longest, loneliest nights he spent staring up at the night sky, believing wholly he’d die bloody and alone on the backend of some random hunt, and how the smallest (but loudest) part of him had wished for exactly this. For someone to hold him and see him and dance in the kitchen with him, barefoot and covered in soap.

He kisses the tip of Cas’ nose, the lines under his eyes. Doesn’t realize he’s crying until Cas is wiping tears away with the pads of his thumbs and soothing hands through his hair. He’s crying, too. Laughing and crying and telling Dean he loves him, he loves him so much, he’s loved him from the first moment he saw him.

It settles in Dean then – really settles deep, and true, and good – that he was meant for this. He wasn’t born to be a weapon. Wasn’t born to be a son, or a father, or a brother. Wasn’t born to save the world or to end it – was just meant to dance. His arms were meant to hold. To sway them both around the cheap linoleum floor, to sling low around Cas’ waist and spin them both ��til they were dizzy with it.

They laugh and kiss and Janis is saying – good enough for me and Bobby McGee – and Dean is thinking – Yeah. Yeah, it really is.

[hanaasbananas]

been having SO MANY kanthony fic ideas while I'm at work, thinking up lines of dialogue and scenes for this completely self indulgent fic but goddamn it's like all my ability to write evaporates as soon as I get home what is thissss