#sorry for off key singing

[hellonerf]

i love crazy contrasting 1p2p in every way(not every way). so i always subconsciously have 2P rusame be friends. unlikely friends etc. in whatever weird school au theyre friends. meri was probably bullied until he started hissing at other kids or something while rus2 was just like huhh okay yeah okay what fine. rus2 found him in a broom closet and it was as awkward as it sounds. in the weird stuckin1Pcoldwar au i have theyre friends also in the torturous existence. 1P rusame is too weird life is too short lets tomodachi✌️

[velveteenpup]

I wish so badly I could explain the comfort queers everywhere felt with the line “i can hear you howling till your lungs hurt, so let this be your comfort: you’re not the only one.”

the motifs in this one. broken beaks and dead birds… caring only kills love… you won’t be the first or last to bleed every broken heart as far as the eye can see is a copy of a copy of a copy…….

literally his best song and he’s never released it.

[jinwoosbabyboo]

The First Meet Self-Aware!Sylus

Is it still kidnapping if you’re in love with him? Yes. It is. Welcome to the N109 Zone get comfortable baby pt. 1 here

Self-Aware!Sylus who can call anywhere home, but is becoming less and less interested in the N109 zone because you’re not there “Well you can’t come here” “Why not?” “You’re not real Sylus how would you come here?” he turns tapping his chin as if he's actually trying to figure out a way to access your world “You could come here”

Sylus wouldn’t out right say it, but he was desperate to have you in his arms it just never seemed possible. There was nothing either of you could do so you settled for a love that would end tragically because you just couldn’t let him go. You found yourself daydreaming constantly about spending your days with him. What it would be like to hold his hand instead of your phone. To caress his cheek and feel his warmth in the palm of your hand. You gave yourself butterflies just imagining him melting into your touch.

Just him.

“You’re spacing out Princess” You slightly jumped at the sound of his voice. You glanced down at the celery you were mindlessly chopping. “Shit I didn’t mean to dice it” You huffed and scraped it onto the pan anyway; there was no way you were going back to the store right now. You looked back at Sylus who was casually sitting on his couch watching a musical. Sometimes it really made you feel crazy seeing him like this. Not the in-game repeated movements that he was programmed to do, but fluid movement and everyday life activities. It really felt like you were talking to a person and not just code in a game. “What are you watching?”

Sylus hummed off key as he answered “Heathers” You giggled at the fact that the big bad Onychinus leader watches musicals in his living room during his free time. “You should join me” He glanced at you from the corner of his eye and smiled to himself like there was some inside joke you didn’t catch. “Only in our dreams” You smiled at him, but it was somber the reality of your relationship always made you a little sad yet here you were doing nothing to end it. You turned back to stir the vegetables you had sautéing because the last thing you need is for them to overcook.

That's when you heard the clearest voice in your ear “Just dreams?” You spun around rapidly flinging food in the process. Your heart pounded against your chest as you scanned the empty kitchen looking for any other sign of life. You immediately swapped out the spoon for the knife you had just minutes earlier. “Sylus please tell me you heard that”

Silence.

You glanced at your phone and saw that the screen was off. “Is there a fucking demon in my house right now?” You snatched your phone ready to call a friend to come over, but your efforts were thwarted when a band of silky red and black mist wrapped around your wrist wrenching you backwards. “I’ve been called worse”

You breath hitched causing you to choke on your own spit as you came face to face with Sylus. Are you going crazy? You struggled against his evol that felt like what you could only describe as smoke with density. “I must be hallucinating” You’ve imagined having this man in front of you for months, but you had no idea he would be this terrifying in person. It felt like you were standing before a hungry wolf that wouldn’t second guess snapping your neck. Why was his demeanor so damn scary? Before you could even process what was happening Sylus grabbed you buy the waist and pulled you close to him. “I’m sorry Princess but this is probably going to hurt”

“Wha-” Pain seared through you in an instant like lightning and fire at once. Your mouth fell open in a silent scream as it felt like your vocal cords were singed to a crisp. The pain was unbearable it changed from searing to pins and needles almost like little pieces of you were splitting apart. You couldn’t handle it and your vision went dark as you passed out.

You came too slowly, groaning as you stretched your limbs on a stiff mattress. You sat up slowly realizing you were fine. Rolling your shoulders and rubbing your legs you were sure whatever that was must have just been a terrible dream. Maybe? “I knew I was dreaming” you couldn’t explain the amount of pain you felt though. You turned and noticed instead of your usual view of your room you were looking out amongst a vast dark city. “Where-”

“What do you think?” a voice said in your ear causing your fight or flight to kick in. You pulled your legs under yourself and swung your fist as hard as you could in the direction of the voice. The person groaned at the contact and you reached for the nearest object you could find which was a lamp and swung it, but your wrist was caught mid air and you were disarmed with ease. Within seconds you were pinned down on the mattress.

Your eyes widened in shock when you realized who was holding you down “Sylus?” He was just as intimidating as he was in your dream. Or was it a dream? “You’re not dreaming” Sylus squeezed your wrist tightly “Ow stop stop it hurts” he raised an eyebrow as his lip quirked up “See?” You rolled your eyes he was way too amused with your reaction for your liking. “We need to work on that right hook of yours it's a little weak” He can’t be serious right now you just punched him in his jaw and tried to beat him over the head with a lamp and the first thing he thinks of is training your punches to get better? Typical.

Sylus couldn’t help but, chuckle at your expression with your brows furrowed and your lips curled in frustration. “I wish you could see yourself right now” You pushed his face away with your free hand irritated with him for causing you that much pain.

“I wish you would get a new mattress why is this bitch so stiff my fucking back hurts” You squirmed underneath him. He inhaled a sharp breath making you freeze realizing the position you were in; he was nestled perfectly between your legs with one hand pinned above your head. Suddenly there was a knock at the door “Boss we heard some commotion are you okay?” Sylus rolled his eyes “I’m fine. Leave.”

“Yes boss” The sound of footsteps retreated until there was silence again. Sylus looked down at you furrowing his brows, this time is was your turn to smirk. “Don’t say it” He warned. Your lips quivered as you tried to stop your smile from forming “Are those my boys?” Sylus gave you a bored look before rolling his eyes at you as well. “Do you know how hard it was to bring you here Princess? You’re more excited for Luke and Kieran than me” Sylus expression seemed irritated, but the look in his eyes was pouty. You had Sylus jealous of his own men now that was an ego boost. You squirmed in his hold again trying to free yourself. “This is a lot for me Sylus you have some explaining to do" You kicked your legs like a toddler trying to sit up once again "And let me get up your mattress is not comfortable!”

Sylus huffed at your commands, but of course he listened getting up and pulling you with him. He had you straddle his lap with his hands gently placed on your waist. “Is this more comfortable?” He leaned back against the headboard his eyes traveling up and down your body. Based on the look in his eyes it was almost as if even he couldn’t believe you were not only in front of him, but on top of him at the moment.

“No! w-well y-yea but-” You cut yourself off to save face. This man really had you stuttering like porky the pig. You took a deep breath, gathering your thoughts as best as you could. “How the actual fuck am I here right now Sylus”

“Energy manipulation is stronger than you think” He shrugged like it was no big deal. “What the fuck does that even mean?”

“If you turn something into pure energy it can travel wherever you want it to even into as you call it a game world” His words bounced around in your head as you tried to make sense of them. What does he mean energy can travel anywhere. Then it hit you. The searing pain, pins and needles, the black out. “You turned me into pure energy to bring me here?!” You screamed in his face.

“Something like that” He replied in a bored tone “The shopkeeper said it should only hurt the first time” You rubbed your temples just trying to stay calm, how were you supposed to be okay with the fact that you were seemingly ripped apart and put back together inside of a damn game. You felt Sylus shifting underneath you and his hands running up your sides. “Tell me” he tilted your chin down so he could look you in the eye. “Are you not happy to have me like this?” he wrapped his arms around your waist while he rested his chin on your chest. “I can hear your heart beating fast”

“Of course I'm happy to see you” You cradled his face in your hands and he immediately melted into your touch. It was even better than you imagined it would be. His eyes closed and you could feel the satisfying hum that rumbled in his chest. You stared in awe at the sight before you; he was really melting because of you. He opened his eyes and dropped his gaze to your lips causing them to part “Prove it.”

You didn’t need to be a genius to know he wanted a kiss. You two spend many nights talking about it. He made you promise that if you ever actually met him the first thing you would do is kiss him. That promise was clearly broken since the first thing you did was punch him in the face. His lips looked so soft and full you didn’t hesitate to lean in and Sylus met you half way. It lasted no longer than three seconds before you pulled away. “What's wrong?" You shook your head and looked away “Nothing you’re just making me nervous”

You had no time to prepare yourself as Sylus slammed you back on your back and pressed his lips to yours in a heated kiss. Your eyes bugged out of your head before slightly rolling back as you gave into him. He nipped at your bottom lip and shoved his tongue in when you opened up for him. You thought he would be more rough, but he was actually so gentle. He kissed you like he was trying to perfectly mold your mouth to only fit his. No more like it was already made to fit only him. You wrapped you arms around his neck and snaked one hand up the back of his head tugging the hair at the nape. He smiled against your lips “Do that again” he whispered, hooking your leg over his hip. You tugged even harder this time relishing in the satisfied groan he let out.

You could do this for hours, but you had too many questions. You pulled his head away trying to catch your breath. “We’re not done talking Sylus” He sucked his teeth and sighed heavily as he sat up. This time he didn’t pull you onto his lap he helped you sit up and fixed your shirt that was riding up from him almost removing it. “Ask your questions” He leaned back against the headboard with his arms crossed. You couldn’t help, but giggle at the slight pout he was failing to hide. "For starters where can we buy a softer mattress?"

[23victoria]

“I Love You” ❁

f1 grid x fem!reader

this is a drabble based of the “i love you but not saying it back to your partner” tiktok trend

wc: 1.7k

authors note: this is my first drabble! any feedback is appreciated and please like, comment, and reblog!! hope you enjoy!!

f1 masterlist

Lewis

You saw this TikTok trend and found it funny. Lewis was getting ready to go to his training session so it was the perfect time. Setting up your phone discreetly to capture the moment, he walked to the door, ready to leave.

“I love you,” he said warmly.

“Bye!” you responded, busy with mixing the batter for your cupcakes.

Lewis paused, a bit taken aback. “I love you,” he repeated, louder this time.

“Bye, Lewis! Hurry or you’ll be late!” you repeated, waving him off.

Lewis’s brow furrowed slightly. “Is everything okay baby? Did I do something wrong?”

“Lewis everything is fine, you can’t be late for your training session. I’ll see you later!” you say still paying him no mind, making sure the batter is mixed smoothly.

Lewis starts to worry that he did something wrong. “Baby I'm sorry if I did something that upset you. Can you please say I love you back” he says getting ready to cancel his session.

Finally, you broke into laughter, revealing you were just playing with him. “No, it’s just a TikTok trend. I promise you did nothing wrong. I love you baby!” you say walking up to him.

Relieved, Lewis laughs giving you a quick kiss. “You got me good. I love you too,” he said, leaving with a smile.

Max

You are always up for a good laugh, so you decided to try the trend with Max before he heads to his meeting.

“I love you,” Max said, grabbing his keys to the car.

“Bye, Max. Be safe!” you responded nonchalantly from the couch watching a true story documentary.

Max stopped in his tracks. “I love you,” he repeated, his tone more insistent.

“Bye!” you replied, looking at the tv with a faint smirk.

Max’s usually confident expression faltered. “Is something wrong? Why aren’t you saying it back?”

“Saying what back?” you say with a confused face trying to mask your laughter.

“I love you, Y/N. Say it back.” Max says no longer in the door but in front of you blocking the tv.

You couldn’t keep a straight face any longer and burst out laughing. “It’s a just TikTok trend, babe!”

Max's shoulders dropped in relief, laughing with you. “You made me so worried! I thought I did something to piss you off or forgot an important day! I love you too.” he says shaking his head making his way to the door.

Lando

Lando loves to play tricks and pranks on you so you decided it’s time to return the favor. You set the camera up on the dresser as you sit up in bed. Lando is on his way to film a YouTube video for Quadrant.

“I love you,” he said cheerfully.

“Bye, Lando!” you replied, focused on your phone.

Lando stops in his spot, staring at you. “I love you,” he repeated, sounding more unsure.

“Bye! Have fun!” you said again, trying not to smile.

Lando’s playful demeanor turned serious. His heart racing. “What’s wrong with you?”

Looking at him confusedly, you say “Nothing, why?”

“Why? Um, maybe because you aren’t saying “I love you” back to me” Lando says now siting on the bed infront if you.

“Did I do something wrong? Why won’t you say it back” he adds.

Unable to play along anymore you laugh, saying “It’s just a TikTok trend, baby.”

Lando lays his back in the bed singing in relief, “You scared me, I was about to call Oscar and ask Lily to see what’s wrong with you.

“Aww baby” you say moving to laying on top of him. Smiling at him while you kiss his nose you say, “I love you!”

Lando smiles hugging you and flipping you over so now he’s on top. “I’m so gonna get you back, but I love you too.” he says giggling in your neck.

Charles

Charles was going to take Leo for a walk, you decided to stay back to make lunch. You set up the camera on the kitchen counter ready to prank Charles.

“I love you,” he said softly, giving you a kiss on the cheek as he hold Leo in his hands.

“Bye, Charles. Bye, Leo!” you say only paying attention to Leo not him.

Charles repeats himself. “I love you, ma cherìe” he says again, a little louder.

“Bye!” you repeated, paying him no mind.

Charles’s face showed genuine concern. “Is everything okay? Did I upset you?”

“Yes everything’s fine.” you say trying to ignore his presence again.

He sets Leo down and stares and the side of your head and says even louder, “I love you, ma chéri”

You do your best to hold your composure and not laugh while focusing on the task in front of you, “Bye Charles, be safe!” you say in a normal voice.

Charles' eyes bore into you and the next thing you know, you feel one hand under your chin, the other on your waist turning you to face him. “I.” Kiss. “Love.” Kiss. “You.” Kiss.

You smile as he kisses you between each word, giggling at him, you say “I love you Charles.” “I’m just playing with you baby, it’s a trend going around on TikTok.”

Charles shakes his head and laughs. “Don’t ever do that again, ma chéri” “You really had me worried. Thank you for finally saying it back. I love you too.” he says smiling cheekily, giving you a kiss on the lips before he’s out the door with Leo.

Oscar

The trend has been going around on TikTok for a min now and you immediately knew you had to play this prank on Oscar. He’s always so calm and laid back so you wondered if this will get to him. He’s getting ready to leave to record some videos with Lando for McLaren, so this is the best time to do it.

“I love you,” he said with a smile, halfway out the door of the hotel room.

“Bye, Oscar!” you replied, not meeting his eyes.

Oscar stopped dead in his tracks looking confused. He turns his body around at the door. “I love you,” he says again, trying to get your attention.

“Bye, Oscar!” you respond, hiding your smile behind the blanket as you play a game on your phone.

Oscar still has a confused look on his face as he says, “I love you, Y/N.” You don’t respond instead just straight up ignore him.

He walks back into the room, closing the door. He stands at your side and repeats himself with his arms crossed. “I love you Y/N.”

You look up at him and say “Okay, hurry and go before you're late!”

Oscar looks at you dumbfounded and gets on the bed laying on top of you. You groan and try to push him off, “Oscar get off! You're going to be late! You have to go! you say still trying to escape free.

“No, not until you tell me what I did to make you so upset that you're not saying “I love you” back to me” he says , putting even more of his weight on you.

You laugh saying, “Aww, babe, it’s just a prank.“ It’s a TikTok trend!”

Oscar lifts himself off of you, and sighs in relief laying next to you, laughing. “You know I only just joined TikTok, you had me really worried there. You laugh rolling on him to give him a kiss. “I know. I love you too, babe, even if you do act like a millennial sometimes.”

“Hey!” he says as he rolls over trapping you as he attacks you with tickles to your stomach and kisses all over your face.

Carlos

Carlos is on his way to a photo shoot with Charles and Ferrari for Vogue. You decide it’s the perfect time to do the TikTok prank on him.

“I love you,” he says, giving you a kiss on the forehead, his eyes twinkling.

“Bye, Carlos!” you reply, barely glancing at him as you walk away.

Carlos paused, looking puzzled. “I love you,” he repeated, his tone even louder.

“Bye!” you say again, stifling a giggle as you sit on the couch, searching through Hulu for a show to watch.

Carlos’s face falls. He walks towards you and says your name. You ignore him and now he’s sitting on the couch next to you just staring.

Feeling his eyes burn through the side of your head you turn to him and say “Did you forget something? You can’t be late for this photoshoot.”

“Ah okay, I see how it is. You acknowledge my presence to ask me if I forgot something but you can’t say “I love you” back to me?” he says moving closer to you on the couch.

Ignoring what he said, you say “Bye!”

Carlos doesn’t move and just sits there and grabs your chin and says “Repeat after me cariño. Say “I”

“Bye” you say.

“No, say “I”, he says again.

“Bye.” you respond.

Carlos shifts in his seat moving even closer to you, saying “Cariño say the word “I”

You look Carlos dead in the eyes and say “Bye.”

“Okay, that’s how you wanna play.” he says as he tackles you softly on the couch, your back hitting the sofa with him on top of you pulling your shirt up revealing your stomach.

Holding the shirt he says, “I’m going to ask you one more time, cariño, say “I love you.”

“No.” Just as that word escapes your mouth you feel him blowing raspberries on your stomach, tickling you as you try your best to escape from his hold. “Say it!” he yells. “No!” and now he’s biting your cheeks and kissing you all over your face.

“I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you” Say it back he says not stopping his attacks.

“Okay, okay!” “I love you, Carlos,” you say breathlessly.

Laughing as you try to catch your breath. You kiss him all over his face, telling him, “It’s just a TikTok trend, baby. You know I love you so so much!”

Carlos laughs, “Of course it is, you and your TikTok addiction” “Hey!” you say eyes wide as he calls you out. “I’m just playing cariño, your TikTok addiction is cute, not so nice when the tricks are played on you huh?” “Yea, yea, whatever!” You say pushing him off smiling.

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

[mywritersmind]

BREAK MY HEART AND I SWEAR IM MOVIN’ ON WITH YOUR FAVORITE ATHLETE - LN4

summary : You weren’t joking when you wrote the lyric ‘Break my heart and I swear I'm movin' on with your favorite athlete’. What a perfect opportunity when that same athlete falls right into the palm of your hands with your ex’s burning gaze directed straight at you.

listen up : reader wrote ‘good graces’ ! flustered lando! protective lando! sorry to anyone named nick.

words : 1519

⋆｡‧˚⋆

“Need a shot of your strongest!” I slap my hand down on the bar, my friends around me and looking worried. I’m fine! I’m absolutely fine!

Is my ex currently across the room from me? Yes! But I'm cool, I'm calm, and I'm collected.

I down the bitter liquor, pushing back my hair and taking a breath. “Fuck him.” I mumble as my friend's hand goes to my arm. I’m completely over him, but every time my eyes land on that jerk I can’t help but remember how I caught him fucking his assistant.

Jackass wasn’t even talented enough to have an assistant, I should have known.

I start dancing, forgetting about my hatred and focusing on my friends. The true loves of my life! I throw my hands up, ‘Cupid's Chokehold’ playing as we all sing around and laugh.

I hear the mumbling and whispering instantly, a new ground walking into the exclusive club my friends pulled me into. My best friend squeals, grabbing my arm, “That’s Lando Norris!”

I raise a brow, still dancing and turning to see the man and his own group. I recognize a few from when my ex would get up at 4AM to see their races.

Formula 1 drivers have a reputation… most worse than any other soccer or hockey player. I watch Lando, a drink in his hand as his eyes scan the crowd.

The reputation makes sense, a face like that doesn’t just shrug off girls.

I turn before he can see me. He doesn’t know who I am, I doubt any F1 driver knows a borderline inappropriate pop star.

“You have to talk to him!” She screams, jumping up and down in her heels now.

“No!” I laugh and think she’s going to drop it until she gives me an annoyed look.

“That’s hypocritical!” I laugh, how the fuck is that hypocritical? I am forced to realize what she’s referring to as I turn and see my ex standing in front of the driver.

He’s smiling like the idiot he is, asking for a photo and clearly going on for too long. Lando is his absolute favorite driver, I couldn’t escape his face for the two years I was dating my ex.

My friend's smile grows, and she starts singing. “Break my heart and I swear I'm movin' on with your favorite athlete!” she’s off key and definitely drunk, pushing my arm she laughs, “This is your fucking time! It’s your own words! He broke your heart babe!”

At her last words I frown, making up some excuse to get another drink. I look back at Lando as I walk back to the bar, my ex is still there but I catch Lando’s eye, accidentally sending him a disgusting look.

I rip my eyes away and order another drink. I sip on it, my legs crossed on a bar stool and my back against the counter as I watch my ex go back to his friends.

I know he sees me, and I'm grateful he hasn’t said anything. He’s an asshole and I'm upset that he’s ruining my night by his proximity to my friends and I.

“Do I know you?” The unfamiliar accent catches me off guard, looking away from my ex and up at Lando Norris. Shit.

“Um… No?” I sip my drink again, trying to ignore his arm resting behind me and how delicious he smells.

“So why were you death glaring at me?” I can’t help but laugh at this, his brow quirks when I do.

“I wasn’t! Not at you at least…” I look back to my ex, nodding, “I was glaring at him.”

“Well he must have done something really bad to you because that look was damn scary.” I bring my lips to my glass again, locking eyes with his that are so green, even in the club lights.

“He’s my ex.”

Lando looks genuinely surprised at this, “Your… ex?” he points and nod, “Yours? As in dating ex?”

“Yes. What other type of ex is there?”

Lando shrugs, eyeing him and shaking his head, “Sorry. I genuinely just don’t believe it! He’s…” He stops himself, like he realizes he’s actually speaking out loud, “Well you’re way out of his league! You’re fucking gorgeous, and honestly on my to-do list of the night.”

I raise a brow at this as his eyes go wide, “I mean I wanted to talk to you! Not in a creepy way! In a genuine way.” I turn towards him more and clock the sincerity in his voice, “So, i’m assuming you broke up with the dick?”

“He cheated on me.” Lando’s jaw drops at this, “Okay shut up now you’re just boosting my ego.”

“It deserves to be boosted! Fucking hell, asshole. Shouldn’t have let him take a photo.” He smirks at me and it makes my smile return, “You do look familiar though…”

“I’m a singer, Y/n L/n.”

He laughs, tapping his fingers against the counter, “I know you! My teammate's girlfriend is obsessed! You're the one with the funny lyrics.” By ‘funny’ he means horny as fuck.

I nod, “And you’re my ex’s favorite athlete.” He cringes at this.

“Not yours?”

“I know nothing about Formula 1.” I shrug as his hands go to his curls, “But I do know you.”

His smile widens at this, his eyes soft, “I like that.”

Lando is nothing like I imagined. I thought he would be annoying and honestly a dick, but instead he’s just flirty and actually hilarious.

He’s cute too, buys me a drink, moves his hand to the outside of my leg to pull down my dress that’s riding up my thigh.

Fuck those lyrics, I want him.

He’s funny and ridiculously stunning, “You know- once I mentioned that you were cute, not even hot or anything, and Nick didn’t talk to me for two hours!”

Lando scoffs, “That’s just rude.” he motions to his face, “Anyone could see i’m adorable.”

“Fuck, now i’m boosting your ego!”

He smiles, “You’re doing that by just looking at me.” He's a flirt and I love him for it.

He’s looking at me like I hung the moon. We just met and he’s leaning down to hear what I'm saying over the loud music, his hand never leaving me.

I reach up and twirl a piece of his hair around my finger, “I like your curls.”

“Thanks love…” the nickname comes out smooth and easy. Far too dangerous for someone I barely know and someone I really like.

He tells me about his travel schedule and how he likes my dress. I tell him where I live and when I tour… “I wanna see you perform.”

I laugh, his hand still on my leg, “I barely know you.”

“Easy fix. Come home with me tonight.” It’s straightforward and risky, yet very tempting. “I’ll let you know everything about me.”

I bite my lip as his eyes stray from mine, “Norris.” I say sternly as he nods, slowly looking back at my eyes with a cheeky look on his face.

“Yes or no, love? Break my heart, it’s fine!” He says dramatically as I laugh and roll my eyes, leaning away from him before his hand finds my waist and pulls me closer, “You don’t have to. I’m just offering…”

“Get me a water, then we’ll see.” His smirk is back and his hand lingers on me before walking down to where the barista is flirting with a pretty girl and not paying any attention to us.

I smile as he leaves, waving to my friends as they motion to text them and blow me a kiss. I’m still smiling when someone slides next to me.

“Y/n!” I know the voice instantly and it makes me feel sick. He’s beaming as if he is privileged to see me, which he is, but he shouldn’t look so happy.

“Nick.” I say, my smile gone and my warm and fuzzy feeling disappeared.

“I didn’t know you were here!” Liar. “How’ve you been?”

“You mean how have I been since I caught a girl sucking your limp dick?” I say with my brows raised, “Oh just peachy.”

His smile falters. Dickhead.

My actual savior returns, a head turning smile on his face until he sees my ex. Lando walks past him, not even sparing a glance and handing me my ice water.

“Ready to go?” His hand is warm on my hip, his gaze cold when looking at the man who stares at the two of us.

“Sorry… what?” Nick is genuinely frozen in place as I pop out of my seat, Lando gripping me with both hands now. Shit his hands are big.

“Mate… she wrote it in a song.” He nods at him as I grin, a straw at my lips and giggle in my throat. Lando leans down close to my ear as we walk away. I can practically hear the smirk in his voice, “I’ll show you a real man.”

@//YOURUSERNAME

liked by landonorris, lilymunihe, and carlossainz…

yourusername i’m a woman of my word🤷🏻‍♀️

landonorris definitely lost a fan but gained the most important person in my life. i love you😘❤️

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[theetherealbloom]

IT COULD HAPPEN TO YOU - CH.5

Chapter Five: As If The Street Lights Pointed In An Arrowhead Leading Us Home

Summary: You find yourself sharing a hotel suite with Pedro Pascal while working on the set of Fantastic Four: First Steps. Despite your different roles—he’s the star, and you’re behind the scenes. Nothing could ever happen between you two… right?

Paring: Pedro Pascal x F!Reader

Warnings: Age-Gap Romance (Not Specified), Eventual SMUT, Crush, FLUFF, Slight Angst, Trope(s), Swearing, Anxiety, Lots of Cliches, Cheesy Dialogue, Romance, Kissing, Real People Fiction, Cameras, Paparazzi, Social Media, Swoonworthy, One-Room Trope, They were roommates, Strangers-to-Lovers, Actors, Hallmark Tropes, the reader can sing and play guitar, the reader is shorter than Pedro, the reader has hair, Alternate Universe, Awkward!Reader, Shy!Reader, Fan Girl!Reader, Cringe, Embarrassment, Starstruck,

Word Count: 6.5k

A/N: Sorry for the wait on this chapter! I was busy writing chapter one of my Richard Reeds fanfic, and my brain went into overdrive. Anyway, hope you enjoy this chapter, and my thoughts and writing process will be in the end notes below! Take care out there.

Side note: I’m dyslexic and English isn’t my first language! So I apologize in advance for the spelling and/or grammatical errors. As always, reblogs, comments, and likes are always appreciated. Thank you and happy reading!

Song: Cornelia Street by Taylor Swift

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CHILTERN FIREHOUSE HOTEL — MORNING  

It was the weekend.  

A rare, golden thing in the middle of a chaotic schedule. Sometimes, productions pushed through weekends, forcing actors and crew alike to run on fumes and caffeine, but this week, you’d been given the luxury of a proper break.  

So you did the only logical thing: you slept in.  

No alarms. No early call times. No frantic scrambling to get out the door before the sun had even fully risen. Just the quiet hush of your hotel room, the soft cocoon of blankets, and the gentle hum of the city beyond your window.  

Pedro, on the other hand, was not sleeping in.  

He was downstairs earlier, enjoying breakfast with some of the crew, chatting between bites of eggs and toast. But when he realized he hadn’t seen you—not even a glimpse—something tugged at his chest.  

He checked his phone. No messages from you.  

Not that you had to text him, obviously. But still.  

“Maybe she’s still asleep,” Vanessa mused when he brought it up, sipping her coffee.  

Coco smirked. “Or avoiding you.”  

Pedro shot her a look, unimpressed. “You’re hilarious.”  

Joseph, ever the instigator, leaned in. “You do realize how weirdly invested you are in this, right?”  

Pedro ignored them, pushing back his chair. “I’m gonna go check on her.”  

“OoOoOo, someone’s worried,” Ebon teased, grinning.  

Pedro just flipped them off over his shoulder as he walked away.  

Your side of the room was quiet when he got there.  

Pedro knocked.  

Nothing.  

He frowned and knocked again, a little louder this time. “Hey, you alive in there?”  

Still nothing.  

His concern deepened. He knew you’d been exhausted lately, emotionally drained from the whole Cecilia situation. And yeah, maybe you were just catching up on sleep, but what if you weren’t feeling well? What if—  

He shook his head, pushing the thought away.  

A quick check with the front desk confirmed they had given you a key for emergencies. That was all the justification he needed.  

Carefully, Pedro let himself in.  

The room was dim, curtains drawn just enough to let in a sliver of London’s muted morning light. And there you were, curled up under a mountain of blankets, dead to the world.  

Snoring.  

Pedro exhaled, the tension in his chest dissolving as a slow, amused smile tugged at his lips.  

He took a step closer, just enough to take in the peaceful rise and fall of your shoulders, the way your hair was a little all over the place. A soft snore left your lips, making him chuckle under his breath.  

God, you were adorable.  

For a brief moment, he debated waking you. Teasing you for sleeping through breakfast, maybe even convincing you to come downstairs with him.  

But then you shifted, letting out the softest sigh as you burrowed deeper into the pillows, and—yeah. No. He couldn’t wake you.  

Instead, he leaned against the doorway, arms crossed, just watching for a little longer.  

He’d give you another hour.  

Maybe two.  

And then, well—if you didn’t wake up soon, he’d have to find a way to lure you out with the promise of coffee or something just as tempting.

CHILTERN FIREHOUSE HOTEL — LATE MORNING  

The late morning light filtered through the curtains, casting a golden glow over the room. Pedro had been patient—he really had—but after standing around for a while, listening to your soft snoring, he decided you needed to eat something.  

So he had slipped downstairs, grabbed a plate of fresh fruit, some pastries, and a glass of juice, and set everything neatly on the kitchenette counter before making his way back to your bedside.  

The problem?  

You were not a morning person.  

Pedro bit back a grin as you stirred, groaning into your pillow, clearly fighting consciousness with everything in you. He could already tell this wasn’t going to be an easy wake-up.  

“Alright, Sleeping Beauty,” he murmured, his voice laced with amusement. “Time to get up.”  

You groaned again, pulling the blanket over your head. “No.”  

Pedro chuckled. “Not even gonna think about it?”  

“No.”  

He exhaled, amused, and sat on the edge of the bed, nudging your shoulder lightly. “C’mon, I brought you breakfast. Fresh fruit, pastries, coffee… I even got you juice. Thought I was being nice.”  

That earned him a tiny peek of an eye from beneath the blanket. “What kind of juice?”  

He smirked. There we go.  

“Mango,” he answered, watching as you visibly debated with yourself. “And it’s still cold.”  

You groaned but finally—finally—sat up, rubbing the sleep from your eyes as you blinked blearily at him. “Fine. But if you’re lying about the juice, I’m going back to bed.”  

Pedro chuckled, standing up. “Noted.”  

As you shuffled out of bed and towards the kitchenette, still wrapped in your blanket like a grumpy little burrito, Pedro bit back another laugh.  

You were trying so hard not to snap at him, despite your obvious morning grumpiness, and he found it strangely endearing. You cared about him—he could see that. Not just in the way a fan might, but as someone who had gotten to know him, really know him, beyond the public persona.  

And for some reason, that made his chest feel warm.  

By the time you took your first sip of juice, you finally looked at him, still groggy but slightly more awake. “You’re lucky you’re cute,” you grumbled.  

Pedro grinned. “I know.”

Pedro stayed leaning against the kitchenette counter, watching you with quiet amusement as you nibbled on a croissant, still wrapped up in your blanket like you might retreat back into it at any moment.  

"You know," he said, arms crossing over his chest, "I've worked with some pretty serious divas before, but you? You might be the worst morning person I've ever met."  

You narrowed your eyes at him mid-chew, unimpressed. "Bold of you to assume I’m even a person in the morning."  

Pedro laughed, rich and warm, like he hadn't expected you to say that. It sent a flutter through your stomach, but you buried it beneath another bite of food.  

A comfortable silence settled between you as you worked through your breakfast, the weight of last night—the teasing from your friends, the way Pedro had looked at you over dinner, the way he’d listened, really listened, when you brushed off your problems—lingering just beneath the surface.  

It should’ve been awkward. But it wasn’t.  

"So," he finally said, drumming his fingers against the countertop, "what’s the plan for your day off? Big, exciting plans to stay in bed all day?"  

You swallowed a sip of juice, tilting your head at him. "That was the dream, yeah."  

Pedro let out a soft scoff, pushing off the counter. "Nah. Not happening."  

You raised an eyebrow. "Excuse me?"  

"You’ve been working your ass off all week, and I don’t mean just putting up with the shoot," he said, giving you a knowing look. "I mean all of it. Everything. And since you clearly weren’t gonna tell me how much it was getting to you, I figure it’s my job to make sure you actually do something for yourself today."  

Your stomach twisted at that.  

He had noticed.  

Of course, he had.  

And now, instead of letting you bury it like you had all week, he was making it a thing.  

"Pedro," you sighed, setting your glass down. "I really don’t—"  

"Shh," he cut in, grinning as he pressed a finger to his lips. "No arguing."  

You stared at him, deadpan. "Did you just shush me?"  

"Yeah." He shrugged, completely unfazed. "It’s effective."  

You narrowed your eyes, trying very hard not to laugh. "You’re an idiot."  

"And yet," he said, nodding toward your now-empty plate, "an idiot who got you to wake up, eat breakfast, and seriously consider leaving this hotel room."  

You bit your lip, fighting back a smile.  

Damn it.  

"Okay, fine." You rolled your eyes. "What exactly do you have in mind?"  

Pedro grinned like he’d just won something. "Get dressed, cariño. I’ll tell you on the way."

CHILTERN FIREHOUSE HOTEL — EARLY AFTERNOON 

You didn’t know what you had expected Pedro to suggest—maybe a lazy stroll through the city, or coffee at some tucked-away café—but the moment you stepped outside, you realized you had severely underestimated him.  

For one, he had somehow procured a car.  

Not just any car. A sleek, inconspicuous black SUV, complete with a driver who nodded at Pedro like they had some unspoken understanding.  

You frowned, pausing just before getting in. “Please tell me you didn’t hire security just to take me out for the day.”  

Pedro smirked, holding the door open for you. “Relax. It’s just a favor. No secret service level drama.”  

You eyed him suspiciously. “You swear?”  

“Would I lie to you?”  

You didn’t dignify that with a response.  

With a dramatic sigh, you climbed into the passenger seat, and Pedro followed suit, settling in beside you with a satisfied grin.  

“See?” he said as the car pulled away from the hotel. “That wasn’t so hard, was it?”  

You shot him a flat look. “I already regret this.”  

Pedro just laughed, tapping his fingers idly against his knee.  

The city stretched out beyond the tinted windows, a blur of old brick buildings, cafés with tiny outdoor tables, and the occasional group of tourists wrapped up in their own adventures.  

For a moment, you let yourself relax, head resting back against the seat, the steady hum of the car filling the silence.  

And then—  

“Are you actually going to tell me where we’re going?” you asked, side-eyeing him.  

Pedro hummed, pretending to think about it. “Nah. I like watching you squirm.”  

You groaned, letting your head fall back dramatically. “I hate you.”  

“No, you don’t.”  

You turned your head, finding him already watching you, something fond and unreadable flickering behind his glasses.  

Your breath caught in your throat.  

The car hit a stoplight, and he looked away, tapping something into his phone.  

Okay. Fine.  

You could pretend that didn’t just happen.  

The drive continued, weaving through the city until you eventually started to recognize where you were heading.  

Your brows furrowed.  

“Wait a minute—"  

“Surprise,” Pedro said, grinning as the car finally rolled to a stop in front of what was, unmistakably, a bookstore.  

Not just any bookstore.  

One you had mentioned in passing about a few days ago, while sitting with him and a few others on set, talking about places you’d love to visit while in London.  

You turned to him, mouth slightly open. “You remembered?”  

Pedro gave you a look, like the idea of him not remembering was ridiculous.  

“Of course I did,” he said simply, pushing open his door. “Now, are you gonna sit there looking at me like I just grew a second head, or are we actually going in?”  

You scrambled out of the car before he could make another joke, ignoring the warmth spreading through your chest.  

Inside, the scent of old paper and freshly brewed coffee wrapped around you like a hug. The place was small but full—every wall lined with shelves, tables stacked with books, mismatched chairs tucked into cozy corners.  

It was perfect.  

Pedro hovered near the entrance, watching your expression, clearly pleased with himself.  

You turned, crossing your arms. “Alright, Pascal. What’s the catch?”  

He smirked. “No catch.”  

You narrowed your eyes.  

He sighed, holding his hands up in surrender. “Fine. I might have selfish reasons for bringing you here.”  

You raised an eyebrow. “Which are?”  

Pedro stepped closer, tilting his head. “You’re a pain in the ass when you’re stressed.”  

Your jaw dropped.  

“Excuse me?”  

He laughed, reaching out and flicking the end of your sleeve. “You needed a break. And I—” He paused, eyes softening. “I like seeing you happy.”  

The words were simple.  

Too simple.  

And yet, they settled deep in your chest, curling around something you weren’t ready to name.  

You swallowed, looking away, focusing on the nearest bookshelf like it held all the answers.  

Pedro let the silence stretch for a beat, then nudged you gently.  

“Go on,” he murmured. “Pick something.”  

So you did.

LONDON BOOKSHOP — EARLY AFTERNOON  

You took your time browsing.  

Partly because you wanted to, and partly because Pedro made himself comfortable, dropping into one of the armchairs in the corner like he had all the time in the world.  

He did this thing where he pretended not to be watching you. Flipping through a book, glasses sliding down his nose, but every so often—you caught him. The flicker of his gaze, the tiny smirk when you pulled a book off the shelf and examined the cover with interest.  

It made your skin warm.  

It was still so bizarre—this thing between you two.  

You were still wrapping your head around it, still trying to convince yourself that this wasn’t some overactive, sleep-deprived hallucination.  

Because this was Pedro Pascal.  

And Pedro Pascal had somehow taken it upon himself to make sure you were okay, taking you out on bookstore adventures and—  

Oh god, were you on a date?  

Your heart jumped at the realization, nearly making you fumble the book in your hands.  

No. Not a date.  

Just… Pedro being Pedro.  

Right?  

You exhaled slowly, trying to refocus.  

The book in your hands was a worn, well-loved copy of a classic romance novel. The pages were slightly yellowed, the cover soft with age.  

“That one, huh?”  

You startled slightly, looking up to see Pedro watching you from his chair, one arm draped lazily over the armrest.  

You shrugged, running your fingers along the spine. “I’ve been meaning to read it.”  

Pedro hummed, tilting his head. “You always do that.”  

You blinked. “Do what?”  

He nodded toward the book in your hands. “That thing. Where you rub the cover before you decide.”  

You froze, caught. “…I do not.”  

Pedro’s grin was entirely too smug. “Oh, you do.”  

You felt warmth creep up your neck. “You’ve been watching me pick books?”  

He lifted a shoulder, like it wasn’t a big deal. “You’re cute when you’re indecisive.”  

Your stomach flipped.  

You opened your mouth—only to immediately close it again, because what the fuck were you supposed to say to that?  

Pedro’s grin widened like he knew exactly what he was doing.  

Your fingers curled around the book, gripping it like it could somehow ground you.  

“I—” You cleared your throat, forcing a glare. “I hate you.”  

Pedro just laughed, leaning back in his chair. “No, you don’t.”  

You turned away, cheeks burning, pointedly walking toward the register before he could see how flustered you were.  

The woman behind the counter smiled as she rang up your book, eyes flicking toward Pedro lounging in the corner.  

“That your boyfriend?” she asked casually.  

You nearly choked.  

“What? No. No, no. He’s just—” You gestured vaguely. “Pedro.”  

She just smiled knowingly. “Right.”  

You hurriedly paid, ignoring the way Pedro was definitely smirking behind you, and grabbed the small paper bag with your book inside.  

When you turned, he was already standing, adjusting his glasses. “Ready?”  

You exhaled, nodding.  

As the two of you stepped outside, the chilly afternoon air hit your skin, a sharp contrast to the warmth of the bookshop.  

Pedro slipped his hands into his pockets, glancing over. “Lunch?”  

You hesitated. “I don’t know… what if people see us?”  

Pedro just shrugged. “So what?”  

You frowned, chewing on the inside of your cheek. “I just— I don’t want people to think—”  

“That you’re hanging out with me?” Pedro finished, raising an eyebrow.  

You let out a breath, rubbing at your temple. “I just don’t want to be weird about it.”  

Pedro was quiet for a beat, then nudged your arm gently. “Hey.”  

You looked up.  

“Let them think whatever they want,” he said, voice softer now. “You’re allowed to exist in public with me, y’know.”  

Your chest ached in a way you weren’t expecting.  

He made it sound so simple.  

You swallowed, nodding. “Okay.”  

Pedro grinned. “Good. Now let’s go find some obscenely overpriced pasta.”  

You huffed a laugh, letting him lead the way.

LONDON — AFTERNOON

The restaurant Pedro picked was one of those effortlessly stylish little spots tucked away on a side street, the kind of place with warm lighting, fresh flowers on every table, and a menu written in looping script on a chalkboard.

It smelled like olive oil and fresh bread, like garlic sizzling in butter.

“Obscenely overpriced pasta,” you muttered under your breath, scanning the menu. “You weren’t kidding.”

Pedro chuckled, tilting his head toward you. “Hey, if we’re gonna be reckless, we might as well do it with carbs.”

Your lips twitched, but you didn’t argue.

The two of you had been seated near the window, the view outside hazy with the gray of the London afternoon. Pedro sat opposite you, cap low, glasses on, but even that didn’t do much to disguise him.

It was still him.

Still warm brown eyes and laughter lines, still easy charm and a quiet steadiness that made you feel safer than you probably should.

The restaurant hummed with soft conversation, the gentle clinking of glasses and silverware blending with the distant notes of some old jazz song playing overhead. The air smelled rich—garlic and butter, fresh herbs and warm bread—and for the first time in what felt like days, you felt… light.  

You weren’t thinking about work. Or her.  

Just Pedro. Just this.  

He was leaning back in his chair now, one arm draped over the backrest, fingers idly tracing the rim of his water glass. His cap was still low over his forehead, glasses perched on his nose, but his expression was open, relaxed—like this was the most natural thing in the world. Like the two of you having lunch together was something that had always made sense.  

And maybe it did.  

"So," Pedro said, tearing off a piece of bread from the basket between you. "Tell me something about you that I don’t know yet."  

You huffed a small laugh, stirring the ice in your drink with your straw. "That’s a pretty broad request."  

He shrugged. "Alright, let’s narrow it down. What was little you like?"  

You blinked at him. "Little me?"  

"Yeah." He popped a piece of bread into his mouth. "Like, what were you like as a kid? Were you the quiet, shy one, or were you running around causing problems?"  

You scoffed. "I am the quiet, shy one."  

Pedro gave you a look. "I know you. You’ve got a little chaos in you somewhere."  

You bit back a smile. "Fine. Maybe a little."  

Pedro grinned, leaning in like he was settling in for a story. "Alright, spill."  

You thought for a moment, fingers brushing absentmindedly over the rim of your glass. "I was kind of… scrappy, I guess? Like, I wasn’t looking for trouble, but I wouldn’t not fight a kid if they deserved it."  

Pedro nearly choked on his water. "What?"  

Your face heated. "Not like that! I just—I had a strong sense of justice, okay?"  

Pedro wiped his mouth, eyes gleaming with amusement. "So what I’m hearing is that you’ve always been ready to throw hands."  

You groaned, dropping your face into your hands. "I shouldn’t have told you that."  

Pedro was grinning so hard. "No, no, I love it. I love picturing little you, all tiny and righteous, just out there laying down the law."  

You peeked at him through your fingers. "It wasn’t that dramatic."  

"Mm-hmm," he said, clearly not convinced.  

You shook your head, exhaling a laugh. "Okay, your turn, big shot. What was little Pedro like?"  

His smirk softened into something more nostalgic. "Oh, I was a menace," he admitted.  

You snorted. "Of course you were."  

"I mean, not in a bad way," he amended, breaking off another piece of bread. "I was just… all over the place. Loud, always moving, always talking. My parents were exhausted."  

You smiled. "Sounds like you were a handful."  

"Oh, completely." He took a sip of his drink, glancing at you over the rim. "I grew up in a house that was always full, always noisy. Family coming in and out all the time, music playing, food cooking. I never really knew what quiet was until I got older."  

There was something warm in his voice, something fond in the way he spoke about home.  

"That sounds… nice," you murmured.  

Pedro tilted his head slightly, studying you. "What about you? What was home like?"  

You hesitated, glancing down at your plate. "Not like that."  

His brows drew together, but he didn’t push.  

You exhaled softly, running your finger over the condensation on your glass. "I mean, it wasn’t bad or anything. It was just… quieter. A little lonelier."  

Pedro didn’t say anything, just waited.  

You bit your lip, giving a small shrug. "I guess I always felt like I had to work a little harder to fit in. To matter."  

Pedro’s gaze softened, something unreadable flickering behind his eyes.  

You cleared your throat, suddenly embarrassed. "Sorry, that got depressing—"  

"Hey." His voice was quiet but firm.  

You glanced up.  

Pedro was watching you with something steady, something real in his expression. "You don’t have to apologize for being honest."  

Your stomach flipped.  

You nodded, a little too quickly. "Right. Yeah."  

Pedro gave you a small smile, then nudged your foot under the table. "For what it’s worth," he said lightly, "I think you’re pretty great."  

Your throat felt tight. "Yeah?"  

"Yeah." His smile widened. "Even if you did used to fight kids."  

You groaned. "Oh my god."  

Pedro laughed, and the sound was so warm, so easy, that you couldn’t help but laugh with him.  

And just like that, whatever tension had settled between you melted away, leaving nothing but warmth in its place.

The street was buzzing softly with life when you stepped outside, the late afternoon sun spilling golden light over everything. You hadn’t even fully processed where Pedro was leading you when he suddenly tugged on your wrist and gestured toward a tiny, vintage photo booth tucked just outside the café. Its paint was chipped, its curtain a little worn, but it had the kind of charm that begged you to step inside.  

“C’mon,” Pedro said with a mischievous grin, already pulling you toward it.  

“What? No!” You laughed, glancing around like someone might catch you doing something scandalous. “Pedro, this is so cheesy!”  

He raised a brow, clearly unimpressed by your protests. “Cheesy is good. Plus, you owe me for making me think you were a goner this morning.” He gave you a dramatic, pleading look. “One strip of photos. For my emotional recovery.”  

You rolled your eyes, but you were smiling. “Fine. One. And only because I feel bad for you.”  

The booth’s tiny space forced you closer together than you expected. Pedro leaned in to fiddle with the ancient machine, his arm brushing against yours. You tried not to think too hard about how warm he was, or how his cologne smelled faintly like cedar and something else you couldn’t quite place.  

“Okay, ready?” Pedro asked, his finger hovering over the button.  

“Wait! What do we—what pose are we doing?”  

He grinned. “You’ll figure it out.”  

The camera counted down—three, two, one.  

The first flash caught you both off guard, faces blank with surprise. You burst into laughter, the kind that made your shoulders shake, and Pedro quickly leaned in for another shot.  

“Okay, okay, serious face,” he instructed, eyes narrowing comically.  

You tried, but the second the flash went off, you broke into giggles again, and Pedro lost it right along with you.  

The third shot was a blur of laughter, your head tipped back, Pedro’s grin wide and unguarded.  

Then, right as the camera beeped for the final shot, Pedro turned toward you.  

You barely had time to register the movement before his lips brushed your cheek, soft and quick but undeniably there.  

The flash went off.  

You froze, eyes wide as you turned to look at him. Pedro’s face mirrored yours for a second—caught somewhere between Did I really just do that? and Yeah, I did. But then, the corners of his mouth curled into a sheepish grin.  

The photo strip slid out of the machine, and you grabbed it, holding it up between you. There it was: the first three frames filled with laughter and goofy poses, and the last… the last one where his lips were pressed against your cheek, your eyes wide, his soft and warm, both of you caught mid-smile.  

Your heart fluttered—nervous, exhilarated, but… not scared. Not even a little.  

“You kissed me,” you said, voice soft but teasing.  

Pedro rubbed the back of his neck, pretending to look thoughtful. “Hmm. Did I? Feels like that might’ve been you kissing me.”  

You gasped, smacking his arm with the photo strip. “Liar!”  

He chuckled, eyes sparkling with mischief. “Hey, I’m just saying—it’s open to interpretation.”  

You shook your head, laughing softly. “You’re ridiculous.”  

“And yet,” he said, tilting his head, “here you are. Stuck in a photo booth with me.”  

The air between you shifted then—lighter, but also charged with something else. Something that felt like the beginning of a question neither of you was quite ready to ask.  

For a beat, neither of you moved.  

Then Pedro tapped the photo strip with his finger, breaking the moment. “Well, at least we’ve got proof of how good we look together.”  

Your cheeks burned, but you couldn’t stop smiling. “Shut up.”  

“Never,” he replied, already holding out his phone. “Now, do we post this on the internet, or do we keep it as blackmail material for later?”  

You grabbed the photo strip, slipping it into your pocket. “Neither. This one’s ours.”  

Pedro raised his hands in surrender, but the smile on his face told you he didn’t mind one bit.

The sky was painted in soft shades of pink and orange as the sun began its slow descent. Pedro slipped his phone back into his pocket after calling the driver, glancing at you with a small smile. “We’ve got about ten minutes. Wanna walk a little?”  

You nodded, grateful for the chance to stretch your legs. The streets were alive with a gentle hum—tourists taking photos, locals going about their day, the occasional street performer filling the air with music.  

The city felt like a movie set, every streetlamp and cobblestone path perfectly placed. And in this fleeting moment, it felt like the world had paused just for the two of you, as if the streetlights themselves pointed in an arrowhead, leading you home.  

Pedro noticed the slight chill in the air and shrugged off his jacket, draping it over your shoulders before you could protest. “Can’t have you catching a cold,” he said, his voice light but warm with care.  

The jacket smelled like him—faint cologne mixed with something warm and earthy, something Pedro. You tugged it around yourself a little tighter, feeling its weight settle comfortably over your frame.  

A surge of boldness swept over you, the kind you usually talked yourself out of but didn’t this time. You stepped closer, looping your arm around his. His body radiated warmth, steady and solid beneath your touch. Slowly, your fingers found his hand, intertwining with his.  

Pedro didn’t hesitate. His hand squeezed yours gently, his thumb brushing over your knuckles in a soft, absentminded rhythm. It was such an easy, natural thing for him, this casual intimacy that felt so rare and comforting.  

You’d learned over the past few days that touch was part of his love language. He was the kind of man who hugged with his whole body, the kind whose touch always felt intentional and grounding, never forced or fleeting.  

Your heart thudded a little harder in your chest. You told yourself it was just from the walk.  

You squeezed his arm lightly, smiling up at him. “Thanks for today, Pedro.”  

He glanced down at you, his eyes warm and crinkling at the edges, those familiar laughter lines making an appearance. “For what?”  

“For everything,” you said softly, almost shy. “For making me laugh. For breakfast. For not running away when I woke up looking like a crypt keeper.”  

Pedro chuckled, his grip on your hand tightening for a brief second. “You looked adorable. Not a crypt keeper—more like… a sleepy little gremlin.”  

You gasped, mock-offended, and smacked his arm with your free hand. “Gremlin? You’re lucky I don’t let go of your hand right now.”  

He grinned, that mischievous spark in his eyes you were quickly becoming fond of. “You wouldn’t. You like me too much.”  

You couldn’t argue with that.  

The streetlamps flickered on as the daylight dimmed, casting a golden glow over the cobblestone streets. You both fell into a comfortable silence, the kind that didn’t need to be filled with words. The city hummed around you, but all you could focus on was the steady warmth of Pedro’s hand in yours, the easy rhythm of your steps together, the way everything felt just a little softer, a little brighter with him by your side.  

“You’re really something, you know that?” Pedro said suddenly, his voice quieter now, thoughtful.  

You glanced at him, your breath hitching slightly. “Something good, I hope.”  

Pedro stopped walking for a second, turning toward you. His eyes searched yours, serious now. “The best kind of something.”  

Your chest tightened at the weight of his words, a mix of nerves and excitement swirling in your stomach. You tried to play it cool, but the heat rising to your cheeks gave you away.  

“Well,” you said, your voice barely above a whisper, “right back at you, Pedro.”  

He smiled, that same soft, unguarded smile that always made you feel like you were the only person in the world he was looking at.  

The driver pulled up a few moments later, headlights cutting through the soft twilight. Pedro opened the door for you, his hand resting lightly on your back as you slid into the car.  

As the car pulled away, you leaned back into the seat, Pedro’s jacket still wrapped around your shoulders, his warmth lingering like a secret you weren’t quite ready to give up.  

And maybe, just maybe, neither was he.

CHILTERN FIREHOUSE HOTEL — EVENING

The glow of golden hour had dimmed into soft dusk by the time you returned to Chiltern Firehouse. The lobby was warm and buzzing with quiet energy—guests sipping cocktails, a crackling fireplace, and staff moving seamlessly through the space. Pedro walked beside you, his hand resting gently at the small of your back like it had been there all along.  

You didn’t want the day to end just yet. There was something about the way the air felt, a little lighter, like it had been charged with something electric and unspoken.  

As you approached the front desk, one of the hotel managers, a polished woman in a tailored suit, stepped forward with a warm smile, followed closely by Franklin Latt—Pedro’s manager.  

“Good evening,” the hotel manager greeted. “I hope you’ve been enjoying your stay. I wanted to let you know that your room is now ready, miss.”  

Your breath hitched for a split second.  

Right. The room.  

It was easy to forget after the last few days, the way you’d fallen into such a natural rhythm with Pedro. Sharing his suite had felt so… effortless. You blinked, trying to process the sudden shift.  

“Oh,” you said, your voice soft, almost reluctant. “Right. That was, uh… this week.”  

You glanced at Pedro, and for a fleeting moment, something passed between you—a flicker of disappointment mirrored in his eyes.  

You shifted on your feet, clearing your throat. “Okay, um… I guess I need to pack, then.”  

The hotel manager smiled politely. “The room is ready for you whenever you’re ready to move, miss.”  

Pedro opened his mouth before you could respond, a little too quickly. “Actually, do you think she could switch tomorrow? It’s been a long day, and she still needs to pack her things. We’re both pretty wiped out.”  

His voice was casual, but there was an edge of determination that made you glance up at him, your heart fluttering at how easily he’d jumped in for you.  

The hotel manager hesitated but nodded. “Of course. If you’d prefer to transfer tomorrow, that can be arranged.”  

Franklin, however, raised an eyebrow, his sharp gaze flickering between you and Pedro. His eyes caught on Pedro’s jacket draped around your shoulders, the sleeves too long for you, the fabric worn in all the right places.  

Your face heated up as you tugged the jacket a little tighter around yourself, hoping it would hide the rush of color in your cheeks.  

Franklin crossed his arms, his expression somewhere between amused and suspicious. “Tired, huh?” he said, his tone light but pointed. “You sure that’s the only reason?”  

Pedro shot him a look, his brow arching in silent warning. “Relax, Frank. We’ve been out all day, walking around the city. She’s exhausted.”  

Franklin chuckled, clearly not buying it but deciding to let it go—for now. “Right. Well, don’t let me keep you.”  

The hotel manager nodded again. “Just let us know when you’re ready to move rooms. Enjoy the rest of your evening.”  

She and Franklin walked off, leaving you and Pedro standing in the middle of the lobby, the hum of quiet conversations around you. For a second, neither of you spoke.  

Pedro scratched the back of his neck, avoiding your gaze. “So… I guess you’re stuck with me for one more night.”  

You tried to laugh, but it came out softer than you intended. “Guess so.”  

The elevator doors opened, and you stepped inside together. The air between you felt charged again, like earlier, but now tinged with something deeper—something fragile and new.  

Pedro leaned against the wall of the elevator, glancing at you from the corner of his eye. “If I’m being honest, I’m kinda glad you’re not leaving just yet.”  

Your heart skipped a beat, but you tried to play it cool. “Oh yeah? Afraid of being lonely?”  

He chuckled, his voice low and warm. “Maybe. Or maybe I’ve just gotten used to having you around.”  

The words settled in your chest like a secret you weren’t sure you were ready to unpack. You didn’t trust yourself to say anything in return, so you just smiled, a little shy, a little flustered.  

When the elevator dinged, Pedro followed you out, his hand resting lightly on your back again as you made your way to the suite. It was such a small thing, but it grounded you in ways you hadn’t expected.

Maybe you’d sort through those feelings tomorrow, when the lines between friendship and something more didn’t feel so blurred.  

But tonight?  

“One last movie night?” you asked softly as you swiped the keycard, pushing the door open. You glanced over your shoulder at Pedro, an almost shy smile playing on your lips.  

Pedro’s eyes crinkled at the corners as he grinned, stepping in behind you. “It doesn’t have to be the last one,” he said, his voice warm and steady. “We can have as many movie nights as you want.”  

His words hung in the air, carrying a weight you weren’t sure he meant to put there. Something about the way he said it made your chest tighten in the best way possible.  

You kicked off your shoes, trying to shake off the flutter in your stomach, and headed for the couch. Pedro shrugged off his jacket and tossed it over a chair, moving to grab a couple of waters from the kitchenette.  

“Okay,” you said, settling into the couch cushions, pulling a blanket over your lap. “But I’m picking the movie this time.”  

Pedro handed you a bottle of water and plopped down beside you, close enough that his knee bumped yours. “Deal. What are we watching?”  

You tapped your chin dramatically, pretending to be deep in thought. “Something light. No brooding detectives or tragic endings.”  

He laughed, the sound low and easy. “Are you saying my movie choices are too intense?”  

“Not too intense,” you teased, opening the streaming app. “But I’m in the mood for something that won’t make me question the meaning of life.”  

Pedro leaned back, resting an arm on the back of the couch behind you. His fingers brushed your shoulder, barely there, but it sent a spark down your spine anyway. “Fair enough. Surprise me.”  

You clicked on a romantic comedy and settled in, trying to focus on the movie and not the warmth of Pedro beside you. But it was hard to ignore—the way his thigh pressed gently against yours, the sound of his soft chuckle whenever something funny happened on screen, the way he stole glances at you when he thought you weren’t looking.  

About halfway through the movie, you felt your head naturally tilt toward his shoulder. You hesitated for a second, nerves twisting in your chest. But then Pedro shifted ever so slightly, making it easier, like he was inviting you to stay.  

“You comfortable?” he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper.  

“Yeah,” you said softly, your cheek resting against him. “You make a pretty good pillow.”  

He chuckled, the sound vibrating under your ear. “I try.”  

Neither of you moved after that, the movie fading into the background. The world outside the suite felt far away, like it didn’t matter. Not right now. Not with him.  

Maybe you’d unpack those feelings tomorrow.  

But tonight?  

Tonight, you let yourself fall a little further. 

End Notes:

This was one of the chapters I was dreading to write. Not cause I didn’t want to write it—

Cause I knew, from a writer’s perspective, at some point, I had to subvert the expectation of, “They’ll be roommates the entire time and fall in love.”

And yes, I did the thing where I gave you something you wanted/something good and then took it away from you LMAO ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

I mean… at least you get your own room now! So that counts for something— (please don’t show up at my house aHHHH)

Also, five chapters in, I had to give ya'll a little smooch... just a little... hehe

TAGLIST: @comfortzonequeen @christinamadsen @liciafonseca @greenwitchfromthewoods @iqr-x @southernbe @maryfanson @brittmb115 @klajmekk @taytay0403 @whimsiwitchy @zymiii @sarahhxx03 @leilanixx @lilasskicker-23 @https-murdock @barnescamboy @widowsvail @senhoritamayblog @morganlolitta

[beiasluv]

— op81, cs55, cl16, ls2

a/n: spent so long on the graphic 💀

yourinsta

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yourinsta call me pitbull cuz I’m mr worldwide 🤫 (+🇦🇺🇪🇸🇲🇨🇺🇸)

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landonorris coppiers

yourinsta you’re my og 🫶

landonorris just og? 😔

username I swear if oscar gives us nothinggg

username MY BABY IS SHY OKAY?

username GOOD DAY TO BE A LOGAN SARGEANT FAN 🦅🦅🦅🦅

username I could only pray the Spanish flag is for Fernando 😩

— oscar piastri

Nervously sipping on his emotional support orange juice. Maybe too much nervous sipping.

“So, what’s your type?”

“My girlfriend?”

“Tell her she’s mine too.”

“WOw, will do.”

Cheeks turning red, munching on the fries like a little chipmunk he is.

“I mean– I have three sisters so…”

“That’s a green flag.”

“Thank you?” a piece of chicken in, a smile comes out. “That’s it?”

“Maybe if he’s…Australian, maybe.” you shrugged.

“Yeah.”

“And if he’s…wait. what sign are you?”

“Don’t know..I think it’s kinda nonsense.”

“That’s a red flag.”

“Sorry?” cheeky.

The orange juice was left unattended for a minute. Good sign. Chuckles were still evident.

“Let’s get serious here…” shifting in your seat.

“Yeah.”

“You drive for a living?”

“Yeah, I go around in circles ‘nd stuff,” juice pause. “I could drive you around Melbourne..if you’d want to–”

“And you’ll take me back by eight? Maybe offering your hand as well?”

“Yeah,” squinting face. “I could do that.”

“Lovely.”

— carlos sainz

Does that thing with his eyes, bending down to take the fries in…while keeping an intense eye contact.

“Smooth operator, you like that song?”

“Everyone favorite song no?”

“Hard choice.” pausing your fries mid air. “Spanish songs that I have no idea what they’re talking about could be up there.”

“Really? Tell me one.”

“The one from fast and furious.”

“A lot of them,” throwing his head back. “Can you sing it for me?”

“Asking for me to sing already. You’re in a hurry Carlos?” a sip of your Diet Coke. “Fast Five?”

“Eh..Danza Kuduro?”

“How could I know?” you shrugged. “What’s the song about anyways?”

“Something like…dancing…er…with tight ass.”

“Make sense.”

Looking confused as ever with that big, brown eyes. Mouth agape and shut every time few seconds, curling into a smile most of the time.

“So you’re still looking for job next year?”

“Huh?”

“Lewis Hamilton? Looking for job?”

“Eh..” leaned back in his seat. “Could be. Are you offering?”

“I’m a pretty busy girl..”

“Really? How busy?”

“So you’re up for it? That’s fast.”

“I’ll have to talk to my manager,” raising his eyebrow. “What is your requirement?”

“A Ferrari driver.”

“Sure.”

— charles leclerc

Trying to not laugh his ass off every five seconds or just completely blanks out. Chicken tasted good though.

“Charles, I have to ask you one thing.”

“Yeah?”

“How do you pronounce your last name?”

“I don’t..I don’t care, really.” Shrugging his shoulders. “Charles. Le. Clare.”

“Hm…maybe just use my last name instead, it’s easier.”

“I– yeah?”

“What?”

His chicken was pretty cleaned up the first few minutes. Plenty of confused chuckles.

“Do you think you are a committed person?”

“I…I…it’s a hard question no?” he put his hand together, in an Italian – sorry, Monegasque way. “I like to say I am.”

“I could tell.”

“Really? How?”

“Your contract with Ferrari.”

— logan sargeant

He was used to burger and fries but maybe he could just tolerate chicken and fries for your pretty company.

“What’s your ideal date?”

“Hm..definitely chicken shop dates.”

“Really? Where’s best chicken you ever had then?”

“This one.”

“That’s not an option.”

Subtle stares here and there, his cheeks might be hurting from all the grinning though.

“What’s your ideal type?” munching his ketchup-ed fries.

“So you don’t do researches.”

“I am now.”

“You know…starting to have a thing for Americans. You have any recommendations?”

“You could start by going fishing in the Keys with me,” stretched his arms.

“I’m not into fishy things.”

“Just boat rides?”

“I could do that.”

Coke break.

“Your thoughts on frat boys?”

“They’re fine,” he shrugged.

“And you’re not like a..secret member? Is it like a One Direction..thing?”

“Maybe better looking?” smirked. “I could see myself being one if I wasn’t racing.”

“Dreams do come true, Sargeant.”

“Ouch,” clutching his chest. “Ah– well– Maybe this other dream could come true as well?”

“You being better looking than One Direction?”

tell me who should be in chicken shop dateee 😩😩

– @namgification @jsjcue @c-losur3

Today’s a great day to take care of yourself!!

[sayangrafayel]

Him reacting to you SCREAMING while watching an idol (be it J-POP, K-POP, or any singer at all)

Another good and (something I wanted to do) request! The anon asked for their reaction to you SCREAMING. Emphasis on screaming and going crazy over idols. Enjoy!

Sylus, Xavier, Rafayel, Zayne, Caleb.

Sylus

As soon as he heard your screams, he IMMEDIATELY rushed to you.

"SWEETIE, WHAT HAPPENED? ARE YOU OKAY?" "Yes!!! I'm just so...! LOOK AT THEM SY, THEY ARE SO COOL. AAAAH."

He turns his attention at your screen and furrows his eyebrows! How dare! He can sing and dance like that too, you know?

Starts singing along and you would lose focus, because now your 6'2" boyfriend is in the room stumbling and singing off key. But holy hell, you love him for it. What a dork.

Xavier

Is currently watching the same thing with you.

"I don't understand.. how are they so energetic?" "BECAUSE THEY ARE THE BEEEEST! MY POOKIE!" "But I thought I was your pookie.. 🥺"

At first he was jealous someone else got your attention that much, but the thought that he's the one who gets to hold you every time he please soothes him.

You absolutely made him dress up as your idol at least ONCE. Your boyfriend's pretty face cannot go to waste! You even suggested that he could be an idol if he wanted to. He didn't like it though... he just wants to be your Xavier, not anyone else's, not even as an idol.

Rafayel

He's painting on that giant canvas of his while you sit on his couch and watch your idol, you suddenly screamed and it shocked him.

"Ouchie! My poor fishie ears!" "I'm so sorry my dear, but LOOK. LOOK AT THEEEEM." "No, thank you. You know, Sylus should definitely audition to become one of those idols. It would be so funny to watch him stumble all over the stage." (Sorry I had to slip in my dynamic duo, I MISS THEM)

You would laugh of course, you love their friendship too "Rafayel, you are one cruel fishie. But you are so right!"

He would continue to paint while you continue to fangirl over your idol. He wouldn't trade this for the world.

Zayne

Like Raf, he was working on his laptop while you watch the tv and fangirl.

Turns his head to you and the tv once in awhile just to make sure you don't damage your vocal cord..

Of course he is supportive of your hobby! BUT HE IS SO SASSY ABOUT IT THOUGH.

"Raw, next question! You know what I mean Zayne!?" "No, I do not. I am a Doctor who works many hours a week and I have a real life ungrateful girlfriend to spoil."

Caleb

This one is quite hard to read. He either goes crazy with you or gets jealous. It depends on the day.

He'd take you swooning over some idol rather than another person in your life any day though.

You screaming? He's used to it. Plus, he loves how passionate you are when it comes to the things you love.

Deep down he knows you just adore your idol! You have since you both were kids! But sometimes he gets jealous okay!! But makes up for it by buying you their merch and all.

"Your idol is having a concert in three months, should we go?" "CAN WE, PLEAAAASE?" "As long as you love me the most!" ruffles your hair.

[mountaesan]

chicken-less dreams ; m. jaehyun

pairing. drunk!jaehyun x fem!reader genre. fluff , est. relationship synopsis. your boyfriend’s drunk antics are often loud and chaotic, but they also remind you why he’s your favorite kind of trouble word count. 1.7k warnings. mentions of alcohol (but no actual drinking) , stripping in a non-sexual context ? , kissing , jaehyun is very drunk and very in love but so is reader playlist. you are in love by taylor swift , ribs by lorde notes. i actually had literally no idea what to title this… so ‘chicken-less dreams’ it is ! unless i can think of another title 😭

riwoo: 911 riwoo: emergency emergency

you: ????

riwoo: your man’s shitfaced and refuses to go home

you: i’ll be there in 15

riwoo: plz hurry he’s about to sing bigbang’s haru haru

You could spot your boyfriend from a mile away. Your eyes were immediately drawn towards him—the way he held onto a metal spoon as if it were a lifeline, singing into it with unbridled passion like it was a microphone. You folded your arms, a quiet laugh escaping your lips as you watched from a distance. Jaehyun stood in the middle of the bar, belting out the melancholic lyrics of BIGBANG’s ‘Haru Haru’, accompanied by his dramatic and melancholic acting. Despite sitting at the same table, his friends were looking away, as if embarrassed to be associated with his drunk singing. 

You caught Sungho’s gaze and he gestured to you to come over to save them all. Despite being embarrassed, he also seemed to enjoy the situation with the way his eyes sparkled with a small smile. With a small resigned shake of your head, you made your way towards their table, weaving through a throng of bodies.

Snatching the spoon from Jaehyun mid-chorus earned you a dramatic gasp and a look of wounded betrayal. “Hey! I wasn’ done!” he protested, but the moment his bleary eyes focused on you, his face lit up and he threw his outstretched arms around you. “My girlfriend! It’s my girlfriend, guys!” 

He turned to the rest of the bar, raising his voice to a volume only a drunken Jaehyun could manage. “My girlfriend came to pick me up! Suckers!”

You wrinkled your nose at the overpowering scent of alcohol wafting off of him. “How much did you guys give him to drink?” you asked the guys as you tried your best to dodge Jaehyun’s drunk kisses. 

The boys shrugged in unison. 

“Uh,” Riwoo started, scratching the back of his head. “It started with one, but then he promised to not sing if he had more, but as you can tell…” he gestured to the spoon Jaehyun had just used as a microphone. “So… yeah, this is on us. Sorry.”

“It’s okay,” you sighed, already resigned to your fate. “I’ll take him home now. Thanks guys.” 

You nodded at your boyfriend’s friends and tugged on said boyfriend, only to find that he had somehow slouched into a near-horizontal position on the couch, looking suspiciously comfortable. Muttering under your breath, you tugged on his arm. You became highly suspicious that he would actually die if your attention wasn’t on him at all times, like he often argued. “God, this kid.”

With Taesan and Leehan’s help, you were able to load Jaehyun into the passenger seat of your car. He slumped against the window, lips smacking loudly together. “Nono… I needa sing one more song…”

“Babe, one more song and you would’ve been blacklisted from that bar for life,” you chuckled, starting the car. The engine roared to life and you backed out of the busy parking lot. “Come on, let’s go home.”

Jaehyun didn’t protest and the quiet hum of the car engine soon lulled him to sleep.

Getting Jaehyun into the house was a battle of endurance and patience. Juggling keys, fumbling in the dark, and supporting the dead weight of a half-conscious boyfriend clinging to you was more than exhausting.

“Please let this be the one,” you whispered, trying yet another key. When the lock finally clicked, you let out a loud sigh of relief. “Thank you,” you murmured to the heavens, tugging Jaehyun through the doorway as he nuzzled into the crook of your neck. “C’mon.”

“Don’t wanna…” he mumbled, and his warm breath sent a slight shiver down your spine. “I gots to finish my performance…”

Somehow, you managed to guide him to the couch, where he collapsed in a heap. He sprawled out, stretching out his limbs in all directions. Brushing a strand of hair from his face, you observed how the pale moonlight streaming through the window highlighted the sparkle in his eyes.

“Alright, Mariah Carey. Let’s get you ready for bed. Even a diva needs to sleep, no?” you said gently, stroking his hair. “Did you drink any water?”

Jaehyun shook his head with a small pout.

When you straightened up to fetch him some, his hand shot out, grasping your wrist tightly. “Where’rr you going?” he slurred, looking up at you like a lost puppy. “Please don’ go…”

“I’m just grabbing you water, baby.”

“Nono…” he said firmly, shaking his head as if the thought of you leaving him for a second was unbearable. “I’m goin’ with you. It’s dangerous outthere.” 

“Oh, really? What kind of dangers?” you asked, amused.

He leaned in, wide-eyed, and whispered gravely, “... Chickens.” 

You bit the inside of your cheek to stop yourself from laughing. “Okay, okay. You can protect me from the chickens, Myung Jaehyun.”

What could’ve been a 30 second trip to the kitchen turned into a 10 minute ordeal. He clung to you like a koala, stumbling along as you poured water into a glass. Perched on the counter, he sipped reluctantly while you stroked his hair, murmuring soothing words.

“Nomo…” (translation: "no more…")

“No, you’ve gotta finish everything, Jae,” you responded firmly. Your boyfriend huffed with a dramatic roll of his eyes but nonetheless complied. “Good boy,” you patted his cheek affectionately once he finished the entire cup of water and Jaehyun beamed at your praise.

When you wiped his face with a cloth, he grinned lazily, leaning into your touch. You pressed a quick kiss to his lips. 

Jaehyun’s eyes flew open at the contact and he stared at you in shock. You burst into laughter at his reaction and brushed your fingers through his hair. “What, never been kissed by a girl before?” you asked jokingly. 

“Not by a pretty one,” Jaehyun whispered and you laughed again. “Not funny!”

“Is too,” you teased. Tucking your arms under Jaehyun’s arms, you hugged him tightly and you rested your head atop his shoulder. “I love you, Jaehyun.”

All you got was a quiet “Whoa” in response. 

You managed to get him to the bedroom, but Jaehyun’s antics still weren’t over. When you tried to pull his shirt off to help him change, he recoiled dramatically, crossing his arms over his chest like a scandalized debutante. 

“Whoa, whoa, whoa! I’m sure you’re a very nice lady, but I have a girlfriend!” he protested, wagging an accusatory finger at you. “She doesn’t like it when I talk to other girls. Especially ones who—who try to take my clothes off! Like you! Perv!”

You watched with an amused smile, your hands resting on your hips as Jaehyun retreated further into his bed, distancing himself from you. 

“And I love my girlfriend! Sorry not sorry, but I’m not for the huzz,” he waved his hand dismissively. 

“Jae, I am your girlfriend,” you insisted but Jaehyun wasn’t having it. He shook his head with vigor.

“No thank you lady, I’m not interested.” 

With a sigh, you leaned in and kissed his cheek. “It’s me, Jae,” you spoke softly, watching as his cheeks turned pink.

“Ohh… hi baby,” he whispered sheepishly.

Thankfully, getting Jaehyun into bed afterwards wasn’t too difficult, his protests reduced to sleepy murmurs. Once he was settled, you took a moment to ensure he was comfortable and you brushed a stray strand of hair from his face.

You slid under the covers beside him, the mattress dipping slightly under your weight. Jaehyun was sprawled across the bed in an ungraceful manner, one arm flung over his face and the other clutching the blanket like a child with a security toy. His lips moved faintly, forming incoherent words as he teetered on the edge of consciousness.

Carefully, you reached out and placed your hand on his cheek, the warmth of his skin grounding you. He stirred at your touch, his eyes cracking open just enough to reveal the sleepy gaze within them. A slow smile crept across his face: lopsided and utterly endearing.

“Hi…” he mumbled, the word drawn out and soft. 

“Hey,” you whispered back, your thumb brushing against the curve of his cheekbone in a slow, soothing motion.

Jaehyun’s brows knitted together, his drunken thoughts forming an odd jumble of words. “Y’know… you’re really, really pretty. Like… unfairly pretty. Like… if there was a… a contest or somethin’, I think you’d win. Every time.”

You couldn’t help but laugh quietly at his rambling. “You’re too sweet.”

“No, no, no,” he insisted, his voice muffled as he turned his face slightly into your palm, pressing his lips against your skin. “It’s true. You’re, like… the queen of… uh… the stars? Yeah, like a star queen. Like, Dairy Queen but instead of queen of dairy, you’re the queen of stars.”

“A star queen?” you repeated, amused, leaning closer until your noses were almost touching.

“Yeah,” he murmured, his words slurring together. “And… and I’m just some guy… but you picked me anyway. Like what?” He blinked sluggishly, his expression a mixture of wonder and disbelief. 

You chuckled softly, your fingertips tracing the edge of his jaw. “You’re not just ‘some guy,’ Jae. You’re my guy. My favorite guy.”

That earned a pleased hum from him, his eyes fluttering shut as he melted further into your touch. “Mmm… your guy. I like that. Sounds nice. Sounds… cozy.”

“Cozy?” you echoed, your lips twitching into a smile.

“Yeah,” he murmured, barely audible now. “Like… blankets… or hot chocolate…” He paused, letting out a soft sigh. “Or… you. I think you’re cozy too.

You leaned in, pressing a feather-light kiss to his forehead. “You’re ridiculous, you know that?”

“Y’know what’s ridic..ous?” he mumbled, his voice trailing off as sleep began to claim him. “How much ‘m love with… y... and… ch… chi…”

You stayed there for a while, watching his breathing even out as he sank into peaceful slumber. Your hand never left his face, your thumb continuing its gentle strokes along his cheek. His skin was warm beneath your touch, a quiet reminder of his presence, his love. 

Nestled beside him, you whispered, “I love you, too, Jaehyun. So much.”

Although he was asleep, his lips curved into the faintest of smiles, as if somewhere in his chicken-less dreams, he had heard you. 

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[mewhenimanangel]

need that, hamzahthefantastic

prev pt. 2*

—synopsis. you run into hamzah again at the bar

notes 🫧: can they please come off hiatus 😢

— 🐞

after appearing in mandy's video, you seemed to have attracted a lot of her and the slushy noobz's fandoms to your accounts. it seemed like every minute your phone was buzzing with new followers and fans, but you were grateful for the traction you received.

it’d been almost two months now and you haven’t seen the group since, just an occasional coffee with mandy - you had your own life and your own friends so you were often too busy.

you turned 21 last week but between jobs and school, tonight was the night to celebrate with your friends.

you were going bar and club hopping with some of your friends, who were running a little late by now but the night was still young.

you got dressed, deciding that your hair and makeup were to your liking when someone knocked your door.

“hellooooo sexy!!!!” your friend, ruby exclaimed checking you out as you did a twirl showing off your outfit before popping your hip. “oh the sexies are gonna be on you tonight, bad!” she squealed before hugging you.

“i’m so glad we’re finally doing this, miss twenty one” she shook you with her tongue out. “i’m ready to get drunkkk, legally at least”

“sorry we’re latee” maia and stella came up from down the hall behind ruby. “you know our people always late” maia joked. “oh my god you look good as fuck. you should take a picture and send it to that ham za guy” she bit her nail suggestively.

“oh my god please, give it a rest” you sighed with a smile. “oh come on. according to the tiktok comment experts, he wants you” maia said. “it also doesn’t take an expert to see how giggly and flirty you guys were in that video” ruby added.

“plus he’s sexy, those tiktok edits really do him justice” stella smirked. “you’re not lying” you giggled.

you grabbed your fur coat, throwing it on before grabbing your purse. “let’s get fucked up tonight girlssss” you and your friends cheered.

you left your cars at your house on account of none of you wanting to drive home drunk and after a few minutes of walking, you made it to the first stop of the night.

it was a little dive bar with live music and you almost immediately headed to the bar for drinks.

maia ordered a round of shots for the group. you rotated between synchronized shots on a countdown - licking, sipping, sucking.

“first *legal* shot!” maia yelled and you cheered.

after about an hour you left the bar, walking down the streets to find your next target.

“yo how are you guys already drunk?” maia asked, slurring her own words as she giggled. “oh you’re one to talk, miss lightweight” stella held her waist.

the target in question was a karaoke bar ten minutes away. ruby opened the door and you all followed her in.

the bar was a nice cozy spot, karaoke stage tucked in the back corner, big bar on the side, and booths lining the walls and there was currently a group of guys on stage, singing good riddance by green day slightly off key.

ruby spoke to the hostess and got you guys a table in the back by the stage. you all ordered a plethora of finger foods - wings, loaded fries, sandwiches, etc. and a steady flow of drinks that the bar creatively named.

you were sipping on a love on the beach and after a bit of convincing, maia signed your table up to sing.

after the last duo was finished and everyone clapped, your group made your way to the stage and the alcohol flowing through your body seemed to take away any social anxiety that sober you would be feeling right now.

you picked bulletproof by la roux and after struggling through the song with giggles, hiccups, and off key notes, you were given a round of applause with cheers that almost seemed like they were just glad you guys were off the stage.

you sat back down in a fit of laughter, turning your attention back to the stage. you were taken aback when hamzah, martin, and freddie go up, you didn’t even realize they were here. you were also shocked to see hamzah with bleached hair, you had to admit it was doing something to you.

they turned on pop!, you couldn’t help but giggle and pull your phone out to record. you made eye contact with hamzah, waving from your seat.

he pulled a shy smile, a little embarrassed. he saw you go up before him and it almost made him not go up, but he was a little buzzed so he wasn’t too nervous.

he didn’t know you’d be here tonight, out with friends he hasn’t seen except for on your instagram. you looked really pretty, your top was sparkling under the cheap spotlight on the ceiling and you were all smily and giggly on stage.

he missed his cue before locking back in to finish the song. he looked at you again as you laughed and clapped with the audience.

“you should go talk to him” ruby nudged you. “but i’m here with you guys, we haven’t hung out in forever.” you said. “i promise you, we’ll be fine. plus he’s looking over here, it looks like his twinky white friend is leaving.” maia pointed out. “martin?” you giggled and she nodded her head. “so what?”

“sooo… he’s gonna be lonely. you don’t want some other girl in here to keep him company before you get a chance too” she continued.

“plus it’s not like it has to be a big deal, just go chat” ruby encouraged. “orrr you could get a lil birthday present” stella winked. you scoffed and took the last sips of your drink before grabbing your phone and going over to him.

“hey” you smiled “oh hey” he put his phone away, smiling back at you. “where’d they go?” “oh martin left to go watch a late movie with mandy or something. and freddie went to the bathroom”

you took that as an invitation to sit down with him. “where’d your friends go?” he asked you. “oh they’re just over there” you pointed behind you to find the three girls already staring back at you and quickly turning their heads away.

“i liked your song” you giggled. “i liked yours too…i didn’t know you’d be here tonight”

“yeah we just got here like an hour ago. we’re just out celebrating my birthday” you told him. “right, happy birthday” he said. “i know, you already texted me last week” “well i just wanted to say it again in person” he smiled.

“wait so no offense but if you just got here, you seem a little drunk already” he teased. “alllright.” you laughed “we were bar hopping, we were at tony’s before this” you told him and he nod his head.

“i’m liking the blond” you pointed to his hair. “yeah?” his voice cracked a little. “i did it myself last week i wasn’t sure how i liked it. but since you like it i love it” he smirked.

you talked for a while, twenty minutes passing by undetected.

your friends came up to the table saying they payed the tab and were gonna head out on account of miah being hammered.

“um i can take you home” hamzah offered, not wanting you to leave just yet. “are you sure?” you asked him. “yep, haven’t had anything to drink. i swear” he put his hand on his heart.

“take good care of her, okay?” ruby told him. “pinky swear” he put his hands together.

“um do you want anything else to drink or eat or something?”

“um just a water lowkey. i don’t need to be any more freaking drunk right now” you told him.

after talking a bit more and finishing your water, you were ready to go. “wait what about it freddie?” you asked. “oh he’s been busy” hamzah pointed behind you to freddie chatting with some woman at the bar.

you put on your coat and followed hamzah out to his car, walking up to the passenger side. “nah i got it” he opened the door for you and let you sit down, inhaling the air around you before closing it and going to his side.

“you smell really good” he said, starting the car. “i mean you look really good…tonight, and always” he awkwardly blurted.

“thank you” you giggled and he smiled. “wait where do you live?” “you’ve been to my house before boi” “i know but i don’t remember the address” you told him your address and he put it in the gps.

he drove the fifteen minutes to your house, occasionally looking at you in the side of his eye. finally, he pulled up in front of your gate.

“i’m kinda glad freddie dragged us out tonight” he said. “oh yeah me too, im glad i saw you”

his eyes flickered down to your lips, the gloss screaming for his attention.

he leaned in and you let him, his lips catching yours in a peck before you kissed back.

you both leaned over the console and he put his hand up to the side of your cheek, slightly entangling his fingers through your hair, simultaneously deepening the kiss.

you put your hand around the back of his neck to pull him closer as your lips moved in sync. the music was only playing at a low volume and all you heard were your mouths moving together and deep breaths.

hamzah dipped his hand under your jacket, resting it on your bare waist that peeked through your shirt. he kissed you like he truly needed it, like it was life or death.

without breaking the kiss you eased your leg over the console as hamzah guided you by your hips to sit on his lap. his hands played with the top of your skirt and he moved to kiss your neck before your foot hit the horn, startling you both.

you looked at each other before laughing and you sighed. “i guess that’s my cue to go.” you joked.

“yeah, you’re probably right. i probably shouldn’t have done that” he said as you climbed back over to your seat. “what do you mean? i kissed you back”

“yeah but i don’t wanna do anything crazy if you’re drunk and not in some car” he said. “hm okay yeah i understand. good night hamzah” you gave him a kiss on the cheek.

he watched you leave and enter your house before pulling off, sighing with both content and discontent.

this was my motivation to finish this chapter

[klipkillakai]

that ony clip gave me so many butterflies omg 😩 it lowk reminded me of a punishment like what if homegirl went out for the first time in a while and missed the curfew only gave her but he see on sasha and historia ig she’s drunk shaking her ass on the car or smthn 😭😭

ouuu girl it gave me butterflies too, but you ate so lemme walk with you rq 🤭

ony was sitting on the couch rolling his second blunt while an episode of breaking bad plays in the background, he doesn’t usually get to watch this show because you usually like to watch love island or your ghetto ass reality shows that he pretends not to be invested in—

he glances at the time on his phone noting that you should be home soon and he leans back and lights his blunt, taking a hit and throwing his lighter back on the coffee table

he ticks a hand in his sweats and mindlessly smokes and watches his show, another hour passes and he checks his phone again sending you a quick text

baby moms 💙

-wya?

he quickly leaves the text and clicks on insta checking your story but seeing it hasn’t been updated for 2hrs, he quickly scrolls and finds sasha’s and clicks through them and stopping on a video of you, drunkenly singing a song and twerking on another one of your ghetto ass homegirls, ony smacks his teeth quickly standing up

“this fucking girl man” he walks towards the door, and grabs his keys, slipping on his slides and getting in his car and speeding off while trynna call you..

“bend that ass over let that coochie breathe” you slur while slowly whining on your friend as she takes a video of you guys, your having a fucking good ass time, you haven’t been out in ages and you miss it, you begged ony to let you go.. and after days acting sweet and a few blow jobs, he let you, but with rules of course.. he gave you a curfew which you gladly accepted but quickly broke as soon as you got a few shots in you—

you were feeling bold, who was he to tell you what you could and couldn’t do, he wasn’t your daddy! well… not all the time anyway—

your standing in your section in your own world, sipping on your drink until, you feel someone behind you, and a chill runs up your spine cause you know exactly who it is, you turn around and look up at him

“didnt i tell you to come come after 12?”

your heart sinks a bit “yea but i was having fu-

“i don’t give a fuck, i told yo lil’ ass that ion fucking trust this club and you still didn’t listen”

you smack your teeth a bit “papa your being so extra right now, nobody is even-

you feel ony’s large hand wrap around your neck and he leans in a whispers in your ear

“im gon tear yo ass up when we get home” you feel tingles bloom in your lower belly and feel your face get hot—

“tell your lil friends your leaving” you softly nod and turn around grabbing your bags and saying soft byes and sorry’s, while your friends give you knowing looks and soft smiles—

ony grabs your hand and drags you out the club as fast as your heels will let you, quickly opening the door for you, and letting you get in before speeding off once again—

“im just trynna get my paper straight” you hear brent sing as ony pounds ya shit, you let out loud moans and choked sobs, “p-please” you whimper out as you reach behind trynna to press against his stomach, running away from the dick—

“nah move ya hand” he roughly says, quickly grabbing your hand and pressing it against your back, pulling your hair, and starting to drill into you—

“oh my god” you whine, pathetically whimpering letting him just man handle you, letting out his frustrations on you…

“take that shit” he grunts, pounding into you “mhm” he whispers, tightening his grip around your hair

“i c-cant” “p-pa-

he hears you he really does, but he can’t get over this shit, not this time, you need to learn, yo lil ass get real disrespectful and he’s tired of it..

“nah tell them all that shit you was saying in the camera, let them hear all this” he lifts you up and pulls you towards the camera, while still pounding into you

“i-im sorry” you sob “im s-so so sorry papa” “pl-please haaa~ ” you feel the tears rolling down your cheeks, your so overstimulated and he’s so deep inside you.. too deep even, you just need a break

“b-break” you choke out.. “need a break”

“hm baby?” “you need a break” he says mockingly while biting his lips after feeling you tighten around him, “lil ass can’t even handle some dick, you think you finna go out again?” “you crazy mama”

“please!” you moan again, pathetically trying to reach down to rub your clit, to soothe some of the stretch your feeling— god it hurts so good, your eyes nearly roll back into your skull—

“you wanna break?” “here” ony quickly pulls out, breathing heavy, grabbing his phone concluding the punishment he was giving you, you lay on the bed heaving, pussy leaking more slick, your shaking and tired..

ony slaps your ass, and leaves hot kisses down your back “i bet you’ll never do some shit like that again” “right mama?” you just tiredly nod.. he slaps your ass again “let me hear you say it” “p-promise papa” “i won’t do it again” ony nods and slowly slips inside you again, this time giving you slow strokes, and rubbing small circles on your clit.. “mmm~

the rest of the night he takes care of you, ending in mind blowing orgasms, he can never stay mad at you for too long, your still his baby girl..

|a/n|

wait yall!! i’m fucking with this oneeee ouuuu, yall i love me some ony! 🤭

[willyoubemycherryy]

What I hear now… (Salesman x reader)

Summary: Piano strings thrum in place of the ones belonging to your heart; playing a requiem for feelings that were never supposed to bloom or even make it.

Contains: angst, hurt, longing, conflicted feelings, music, confusion, he likes you in a way that isn’t homicidal and struggles to deal, you’re just emotional, fear and hopelessness with a few flickers of comfort

A/N- this is how I’m coping with TikTok being banned. I miss everyone so much right now. Cried writing this so I’m sorry.

｡ ˚ ︶︶✩︶︶‌ ₊ ˚ ︶︶✩︶︶‌ ｡˚ ｡ ˚ ︶︶✩︶︶‌ ₊ ˚ ︶︶

This was new.

Tentative breaths shake the atmosphere of the unfamiliar space as you try to quietly adjust. You don’t even remember how you got here, to his apartment but here you are. It’s comfortable, furnished and organized with monochromatic colors and a piano in the middle of the large space and that’s when you remember.

You’d asked him after one of your trysts if he had any secret talents. The question- like you- was unusual but he answers out of the barb-teethed fondness he’s grown for you.

“I’m quite good on the piano.”

Your eyebrows shoot to your hairline at the unexpectedness and you wonder if anyone who’s ever known him knows about his hidden gift.

“You’ve gotta play for me one day.” It’s the first time he’s heard that word without any of the usual foreboding. Play. He can’t recall the last time he ever has in such a meaningful way. He surprises himself by agreeing, nodding with one of his pretty disarming smiles.

“Sure. Maybe I’ll even sing for you too.”

And that’s how you got here. Laying on plush carpet as you lean up on your elbows, next to the large piano as you watch the man sitting at its keys. He’s in a simple dress shirt with the forearms rolled up, black slacks and grey socks. Less put together as strands of hair fall in his face but still beautiful and you feel your heart ache. He shuffles closer before glancing down at you, smiling with the side of his mouth then turning back to the instrument. Seconds later music fills the quiet space around you, stopping your heart before it jumps to your throat as your recognize the melody from the first few notes alone.

He hears your gasp and knows you know exactly what song he’s playing but he doesn’t stop to taunt you- instead he keeps playing. Notes growing in volume then tempo as they spin over each other, cascading in and out of depth before they descend. You go still with wide eyes as you listen, lips shaking from the onslaught of sudden emotion and you swear you hear the words as he shatters your defenses with sure, precise fingers on ivory keys; leaving you bare in all the ways that matter and it’s as mesmerizing as it is heartbreaking.

It was a dangerous dance feeling what you’re feeling for him because he was so limited in both heart and character.

You still didn’t even know what he did for a living but you became familiar with him anyways, what was a fun convenient thing bled into something more with each time he sought you out.

The quiet life you maintained was like a soothing balm to the mangled parts of him he’d given up on healing years ago; accepting that he was just too far gone.

But then there was suddenly you. Scolding him on the train that he “shouldn’t bully the misfortunate” or else one day he’d wake up ugly and even agreeing to play one of his games only the beat him the first and only time you did, refusing to entertain him. Sticking your tongue out at him before getting off at your stop.

“Not hot shit now are you? Dirtbag…”, glaring with a curled lip as you walked off. Maybe it was then. You picked an issue with him not for profit but to stand up for someone you didn’t even know and he couldn’t wrap his head around it. So, he settled for his arms instead and you were nice but nicer when he was nice too and it gave him a glimpse into the other side of life. One he’d never given a thought to.

Yes; he might be able to live with you one day but he could never stay and you could never know why. He refused to drown you in the heavy blood of his world.

When he winds the chorus back, and you find yourself close to tears as you listen to each key; phantom lyrics ringing in your ears.

“I used to hear a simple song,

That was until you came along.

You took my broken melody-

and now I hear a symphony.”

You close your eyes to stop the water because when it rains it pours and against everything, unfortunately- you like him.

The final string of notes soften their crescendo as the song ends and silence fills the space once again. Even with the music gone, you still feel like crying.

He really was quite good on the piano.

You can’t keep your eyes closed forever though but when you open them, he’s already looking at you and your misty eyes, cooing at the tremble in your bottom lip.

“Aw. You’re sensitive to music too-?” You ignore the flippancy in his tone as you cut him off, voice small when you throw caution to the wind for the comfort you so desperately need right now before you fall apart wanting to keep something that was decaying.

“Can I please have a hug?”

Your request shocks him enough to knock his usual ever-present grin off his face for a minute before he wordlessly slides down to where your sitting on the floor, watery eyes firmly fixed onto the carpet before he pulls you into his lap, wrapping you in his arms and you stiffen before melting into him with a sigh, burying your head in his chest.

He doesn’t say anything. If he did, it would end in disaster because he’s never comforted anyone honestly in his life. He could’ve ignored you but he found he didn’t want to, instead he let you need him- wanted you to need him as he consoled you.

You were so unlike him. So different from the strife he normally caused and he wasn’t sure what to do.

“If I knew it would’ve upset you so much, I’d have said something pointless like solving a rubix cube.” You snort at that and the sound gives him a strange sense of relief.

“It’s fine, I’m not upset so don’t worry. It’s not like you.” He stays silent because he knows. He knows any kind of concern that comes from him is abnormal but it’s you.

“Getting soft on me-“

“I could make you cry again if that’s what you’d prefer?”

You two bicker way too casually for the amount of gaps in your relationship but somehow it fits, driving you to settle into him more with a deep breath, enjoying his scent. Neither of you knew what was going on but you’d cross that bridge when it got to burning. For now though;

“You can do that later but let’s just stay like this for a little while longer?”

“….”

“..alright.”

[yerimbrit]

inside you (is a field of spring flowers) : p. hanni

synopsis: you feel it in your chest—as if flowers are about to start spilling out from your throat like a broken fountain.

# : pairing ! pham hanni x 6th member!reader

# : tags ! fem!reader, angst, hurt no comfort, hanahaki!au, hanni likes a boy here sorry, unrequited love, miscommunication? more like no communication, hahaha! you know technically this is hanni x reader x minji but *EXPLOSION*, i mean... they kiss??????? is that a good thing?

# : wordcount ! 10k

# : warnings ! mentions of blood and surgery, panic attack, near-death experience, several mentions of drowning and throwing up, toxic(?) themes, please think before you act guys

forget-me-nots have always been hanni's favorite flower. she pointed it out to you once, as trainees, when you two were passing by a flower shop on the way back to the dorms. the display was only dimly lit, the hours way past closing, yet she was able to recognize them so quickly—it amazed you.

when you debuted together in newjeans, you bought a bouquet of forget-me-nots for her, shyly presenting it to her when you returned to your shared room after the debut showcase. her smile was radiant that day, despite the tiring performances only a few hours ago—you made sure to engrave that expression into your memory, promising yourself to make her smile like that again and again, forever until the end of time.

now, they bloom like a viral pandemic inside your chest, vines curling around your lungs and taking your breath away. ironically, that is what hanni does to you whenever you look at her; she takes your breath away. and then she borrows your heart for a waltz, dancing around it with that smile you love so much. she doesn't ask for the key to your heart, but you'd give it up for her in the blink of an eye.

it started after a walk with hanni, an impromptu convenience store run on a quiet night. she giggled and gazed into your eyes with a look full of so much affection that you stood there in front of the snack aisle, transfixed in place. and then you felt it.

in your chest, a sprout. a sprout that would eventually turn into dozens of flowers, that would send waves of blue and pink into the silver acrylic bathroom sink in your dorm.

you read about it online once, hanahaki, when you were a few years younger and a few less mature. the younger you that took things for granted, swearing that it was fake and wouldn't ever happen to you, no, because cho y/n doesn't fall in love.

but now you, years older and more mature, who has seen only the beginning of the hardships the world deploys, would hate to face the you of the past.

because this cho y/n is in love, and love feels like a field of spring flowers—blue and pink forget-me-nots—flourishing inside your body. something that you will take to your grave.

it's another day of performances, promoting newjeans' new single that has already garnered millions of streams, to which you're immensely grateful for. the overwhelming support of people all over the world, not limited to bunnies, fills your psyche with exuberance.

your energy onstage is overflowing, spreading to the other members and to the fans. the interactions exchanged with the girls singing and dancing with you, the red flash of the live camera, the deafening cheers of the audience once you turn one of your in-ears off—they fuel you with so much motivation to achieve, to fulfill your dreams, to inspire others.

and despite your fatigue hitting upon sitting down in the waiting room, you still agree to come with hanni to the vending machines, unable to say 'no' to the girl of your affections. she leads you by the hand, outside to the hallway and not letting go, sending swells directly to your heart. 

you try to pay attention to the ramble she sparks about the variety of snacks in the new vending machine that was recently installed, and not to the erratic thumping of your heartbeat. occasionally she glances back at you, her eyes crinkling up into a dazzling smile, and you try to send one of your own to mirror her energy.

“i’m excited, y/nnie,” she says, adding a skip to her step to really show her excitement, “the old ones were getting… well, old.”

‘cute,’ you let yourself be dragged further to a corner, walking past several waiting rooms assigned to groups and soloists both known and unknown to you.

the shorter girl stops in her steps and almost makes you bump into her. confused, you look up to try and find what could possibly be the source of her lack of movement, and you see a familiar face.

a boy group member, jay from enhypen to be exact. the guy that hanni's been droning on about for about two weeks now. every second, minute, hour, she manages to find an opportunity to start gushing over him. of course, you’re happy for her, but you’re also sick of it. even danielle is tired of the same topic. sometimes you wish things could go back to the way they were before, and hanni would return to being the loveable, angerable, and passionate person that she is, at least the one you know and loved love. 

they exchange some pleasantries, and your fellow group member inquires about the vending machine and if he's tried it yet. the conversation turns to a different topic, they talk about going on yet another date, she teases him and tells him to text her the details, and he leaves with a lingering touch on her shoulder. i’ll see you, he says softly, making her swoon and wish that he’d sweep her off of her feet. but by the time she turns to you to squeal about the newly planned date in her schedule, you're gone.

the coldness of the running water from music bank's bathroom sink soothes the stress in your veins, washing the specks of blood off of your hands. you watch fragments of petals that didn't make it to the trashcan swirl down into the open drain, then let your eyes bore a hole into the mirror which casts your reflection onto its surface.

'she likes a boy,' a bitter thought bubbles up into your mind, 'and i'm not a boy.' the overplayed song simmers in your thoughts before you have to force it away. stupid. of course it's a guy—he's tall, plays the guitar, cooks, and even more.

you slowly raise a hand, water dripping off of your skin and back into the sink, and shake it roughly in front of the mirror. droplets slide down in streaks, turning what was once your clear, pristine reflection into the distorted face of a figure, unrecognizable. a silhouette of a human being.

what does he have that you don’t? 'that's a stupid question,' you chuckle deprecatingly, 'he has everything that i don't.'

he has everything that you don’t, everything to match as perfect a girl as hanni is. and hanni is everything; she’s sweet, talented, short-tempered, and she puts so much thought into loving but she does it effortlessly.

love was supposed to be like fireworks exploding, the purest feeling you can feel. it's everywhere—familial, romantic, platonic, in the dedication that was packed into building the walls of every building you've been in, in the care that was put into making the matcha latte you had this morning. it's supposed to be euphoric, almost idyllic.

you don't regret loving hanni. she's given you the key to a new world of experiences and attractions, like a theme park that never ages. but you've lost her in the crowd. your heart bleeds into the petals that belong to the flowers she loves so dearly, and it's literally killing you.

forget-me-nots symbol true love and remembrance—something happy, something that is supposed to fill your entire being with joy. but they rot in your gut like the plague.

a flurry rushes up your throat, making you gag and dryly throw up the waterfall of pink and blue petals into the sink. it's a disgusting feeling, both the throwing up and the texture of the bloody petals as you crush them in your palm before transferring the pile to the trash bin.

the blood that remains burns like asphalt on your tongue. you spit another few petals out, a dull red staining the floral discharge and the sink. you turn the 'cold' knob of the sink to wash your hands, but end up looking deep into your distorted reflection once again.

the bloodstained acrylic sink overflows with cold water, splashing down to the floor and soaking your clothes, but you pay no mind to it. instead, you have a face-off with your distorted reflection.

love is intoxicating, exhilarating, and painful. it’s beautiful, yet ugly, and vibrant red and pink, yet gray. loving hanni feels like walking on a long, shaky plank between mountains. like you’re at risk of falling every few seconds.

she'd be happy with jay. she already is.

you frown at the mirror, the movements of your mouth obscured by the water still dripping down the glass. water from the overflowing sink seeps into your shoes and into your socks, inciting another gross feeling within you. you don't bother turning the sink off.

after another moment, you can't take the sight of the empty reflection anymore. an impending cough burns in your throat, and blood sprinkles out of your mouth. the dull feelings and surroundings overwhelm your senses. 

you dunk your head into the overflowing pool of water.

it's cold, and it's comforting. it tastes like blood and it's freeing.

you can finally breathe, for once.

"what were you thinking!?" minji scolds you, infuriated, having found you on the cusp of death in the bathroom. you're in the newjeans waiting room, freshly changed into your regular clothes and out of the ruined stage outfit, and a towel hangs around your neck to catch any stray droplets from your hair.

she paces back and forth in front of the couch you're sitting on, pinching the bridge of her nose. recognizing your lack of response, she sighs and squats down to meet your empty gaze. "are you okay?"

shifting in your seat, miniscule drops of water taint your hands and your white graphic tee. you shake your head stiffly and croak out with your hoarse voice, “i don’t know.”

“hanni said you’d randomly left her earlier,” minji says softly, only the desire to understand storming in her eyes. “if i hadn’t found you when i did, you would’ve…”

hanni. the very reason you’re throwing up flowers every night, for god’s sake. and as if right on cue, a petal makes its way out of your mouth and onto the hand you shove over your lips. when you hesitantly lower it down to your lap, minji gasps.

“is, is that—oh, y/n, you're...” she bites her lip, bringing you into a tight hug. it’s warm, but it provides only a bit of comfort to mend some of the wounds left on your heart. “...you’ll be okay.”

a warm droplet soaks into the fabric of your top, and it’s not the water from your hair. minji’s crying, crying for you because you can’t even do that for yourself. “i’ll ask for a separate car so we can get you to a doctor,” she murmurs into your hair, “everything will be okay, that’s the least we can hope for.”

you notice there’s a few more bodyguards surrounding you and minji as you make your way to one of the management’s black vans. the public can’t know two members left the building separate from their group lest they’d bombard everyone with prying questions disguised by innocent remarks. your heart aches when hyein looks at the two of you with confusion, probably wondering why you’re not all going home together. she doesn’t have to know. she can’t know; it would break her heart.

the hospital is as devoid of life as ever, the only signs of there actually being life in it being the buzz of chatter from staff and patients and rhythmic beeps from machinery. the last time you were in this dystopia of a building was when hyein fractured her foot. back then, the visits were rushed with anxiety and fear that came in a cold bead of sweat. now, it’s a slow walk, resignation dripping with every step that you take and occasionally interrupted by a chilled shiver. bile sticks to the back of your throat uncomfortably.

minji keeps your pace, sometimes glancing worriedly at you before looking to where the manager is up ahead. you’re headed to the front desk, where your manager would discreetly inform the receptionist of your conditions and then be directed to the waiting area, where you would wait for the diagnosis (of which you’re already acutely aware) of your demise.

the woman at the reception is deeply shocked upon seeing you and minji behind the manager, evident in the way her mouth hangs open and how she’s unable to say a word for a few seconds. perhaps it’s not only because of the sight of you, but also because of the reason for your visit. an idol coughing up flowers because of an unrequited love? almost unheard of. almost, because no company would ever let that sort of news out to the public.

examination rooms always smell strongly of disinfectant, now only adding to the pounding headache you have. the scent pierces through your dry nostrils, creating an insatiable itchy feeling that you can only temporarily get rid of when you cover your nose. a nurse comes in for the regular checkup, and then a doctor, doctor jeong, cautiously enters.

he clears his throat, a clear clipboard holding your documents grasped in his hand. his browline glasses enhance his ‘doctor’ image, like he was born to be a doctor. “you… have hanahaki disease. the unfortunate illness of throwing or coughing up flowers, the cause being unrequited love.”

yes, that’s right. hanahaki. unrequited love. unable to answer, you nod your head weakly. beside you, minji bites her lip worriedly. “is… is there a cure?”

“well,” he sighs, eyes filled with sympathy for your pitiful state. it almost makes you want to scoff. “either the recipient of miss cho y/n’s feelings reciprocates, or a surgery can be scheduled for the forced removal of the flowers. with the surgery, the feelings will disappear completely, though there is a risk of not being able to love again.”

a beat of silence follows; neither you nor minji dare to say a word. and so you use the time to think: do you really want to get rid of your feelings for hanni? years of pining, thrown away like nothing? you couldn’t do that to yourself. even though your love is draining the life out of you, it is still love, and it is still wonderful nonetheless. 

doctor jeong scribbles something down on the document, the only sound in the room being your breathing and the scritch of his pencil. “for now, miss cho y/n, i’ll prescribe you flower suppressants. they’ll slow the growth of the flowers in your lungs, but it will only be temporary; it will give you time.”

“because time is all i have,” you mutter, your voice barely above a whisper. 

he stays silent for a moment, then leaves, gingerly handing you a prescription paper, and you and minji are left alone. minji slowly stands up, leading you by the hand to exit the exam room and meet your manager in the hall. you go to the pharmacy to pick up the medicine with the paper he gave. 

the ride home is suffocating, but not because of the flowers begging to be let out. there’s a conversation spoken with the exchange of looks from saddened eyes, and then you break it off to stare at the passing scenery out the window.

time will tell, but time is all you have and there’s not enough of it.

the two of you return to the dorms while everyone’s asleep. when you gently open the door, a figure sleepily rises from the couch and wipes her eyes. 

correction: everyone except hyein is asleep; she must’ve been waiting for you to come home.

“hyein,” minji starts, a slight scolding tone hidden in her voice, “what are you doing, still up?”

the younger girl rubs her eyes again, eyebrows knitting together. she’s clearly fatigued, exhaustion leaking through every action, but she chose to wait for you and minji’s return home. “i was… i was waiting for you,” she slowly replies, as if she were afraid of upsetting the two of you any further—not that you’re upset at her in the first place. “where were you guys?”

“running errands,” minji answers, curt. hyein’s eyes flash with hurt, and the older girl freezes. “sorry. we’re quite tired, hyein. you should head back to bed.”

“thanks—” you say, voice barely above a whisper. “—for waiting, hyein.”

you know she hears the pain in your voice. she glances at you worriedly before she scurries down the hallway to her room. minji only speaks when her door clicks shut.

“i don’t think you have any schedules with her anytime soon… but i can’t prevent her from seeing you,” she breathes out, rubbing her temple. 

you furrow your brow. “why are you saying it like i hate her?”

minji swallows thickly, leaning on her arms on the top of the couch’s backrest, her movements highlighted by the warm glow of the table lamp. “because,” she pauses, frowning, “she invited jay over for two days from now.”

“that fast…” you mutter, and the living room is engulfed in silence until you feel that burning feeling in your throat again. petals. flowers.

the immense pain from coughing is intensified because of the burn that water left, your rushed movements to the bathroom having a clogging effect on you. piles of flowers are heaved out of your mouth and into the sink. 

you turn the water on, splashing some on your face, vision blurring. liquid feels like it's filling up your mouth, your body, your lungs, taking your breath away like hanni does to you. it’s suffocating, the relieving feeling from before now absent. and although your body tells you that you’re not, your mind is screeching, screaming the message that you are drowning. 

you are drowning, thoughts melding together to create a big lump of something unintelligible. you’re helpless.

“hey!” minji runs in, pulling you away from the sink and pushing you down slowly to the floor. “y/n, i need you to breathe. can you hear me?”

water in your airways, water in you. petals in your airways. petals growing from within your lungs. you whimper, throat too dry to manage to cough, but you muster up a creaky nod, trying to meet minji’s eyes, your pupils shaking.

“count to ten with me. one, two, three…”

“four…” it burns your throat, aching as you speak. 

the girl nods, keeping eye contact with you. “good. five, six, seven…”

thoughts are clearing, water is draining. “ei-eight.”

“nine…”

ten. 

you take several deep breaths, leaning forward into minji’s warmth and not closing your eyes. you would drown again if you left yourself in the dark. 

a reminder bubbles up in your mind. ‘...will only be temporary; it will give you time.’ 

“pills,” you whisper, patting your jacket pocket which was slightly splashed with water, some petals hidden in the wrinkles. for a second, you question the legitimacy of these pills, but you’re extremely desperate. your groupmate reaches into the pocket, pulling out the new prescription bottle. 

she moves it away when you try to reach for it, humming. “you can’t have this on an empty stomach. you haven’t eaten since before the performance, and it’s nearing midnight.”

minji has warmed up a bowl of instant white rice, since the rice cooker has yet to be replaced. you watch the steam rise up into the lone ceiling lamp at the dining table.

“you should eat while it’s still hot.”

for the pills. for the pain.

under minji’s hawk-eye surveillance, you dig the stainless steel spoon into the rice and lift it to your lips and take a bite. it’s not supposed to have any special flavor to it, but it travels down your throat like a rock. you try to resist the urge to gag, but it’s inevitable with the next few bites. 

minji uncrosses her arms and slides the bottle of pills to you, and you gratefully open it. ‘one tablet every six hours, take as necessary.’

you take the first dose. it tastes like nothing at all.

the girl takes the bottle, sliding it back near her. “i’ll be giving you one before breakfast, lunch, and dinner. no more. but if you don’t want to take them, i won’t give it to you.”

“i’ll take them,” you reply, staring at the unfinished bowl of rice. it makes you feel nauseous, so you direct your gaze to your lap instead. 

“...good night, minji.”

minji lets out a labored sigh. “good night, y/n.”

hyein stands by with her back pressed against the wall near the living room. you looked awfully tired, maybe even drained, earlier—it’s concerning, especially with the way you and minji had mysteriously gone off somewhere after music bank. 

after much trying, she hears slivers of your hushed conversation. what she heard was shocking, but she can’t decide whether or not she’s glad she knows or if she should’ve really gone to bed earlier. 

“...i’ll be giving you one before breakfast, lunch, and dinner…”

giving what, exactly? the younger girl pushes slightly on her grip on the corner of the wall, trying to view the scene without exposing herself. and there she sees her older member holding a bottle of prescription pills. there’s a few petals on the ground leading to the bathroom. when did they get flowers?

her face pales, and she rushes to the bathroom where she heard the anxiety inducing incident just ten minutes prior. as soon as she flips the lightswitch, she sees broken and blood speckled petals, blue and pink, lining the drain.

and when she opened the small trash can by the foot of the counter, a nauseating feeling rushed over her. dozens and dozens of petals, most bloodied and some retaining their purity. there were even drops of blood on the ground. 

“what…?” 

hyein swallows down her urge to gag and quietly slips away to her room. it can’t be. it can’t.

you wake up at six in the morning. there’s already a tablet on your bedside waiting for you, placed on top of a sticky note from minji that says “after breakfast”. 

so, this is your life now, huh?

with a sigh, you push yourself off of the sanctuary that is your bed and shuffle over to the bathroom. blinking through your bleary eyes, you can see that there’s no evidence of the night before—no petals, no blood—minji probably took care of it. you brush your teeth and turn the faucet on again to wash your face. the memory of your almost-drowning flashes in your mind, but you quickly shake it away.

no one’s awake at six, except danielle who’s really the only productive member in the morning. she’s got her headphones on and is sketching a still-life of the vase on the living room coffee table. the vase is holding wilted tulips, white in color, which nobody has had the time to replace. 

danielle feels your presence, turning her head to you. she offers a wide smile and a wave, and gestures to the kitchen where a pot of oatmeal is residing on one of the stovetops. you return the nod, giving her a small hug before going to the kitchen.

you could probably eat some oatmeal. maybe not with any toppings, no, but it’s bland enough for you to force down. you scoop some into a pink flower-patterned ceramic bowl and eat at the island, facing the living room where you can watch danielle’s sketching.

the oatmeal’s to your expectations. not too bland like the rice, and just enough flavor to carry through. the scratch of your groupmate’s pen is oddly calming to your ears. 

after you wash your bowl and spoon, you return to your room with a glass of water and take the tablet with it. pausing for a moment, you try to think of something to do since you can’t just go back to sleep, and then grab your wired earbuds and your phone after changing into a basic t-shirt and shorts.

on your way to the front door, you hear the faint sound of music coming from a certain member’s room. it’s wild heart by the vamps. one of the first songs she recommended to you. you try to swallow down your mild nausea.

danielle’s still drawing in the living room. you tap her shoulder and point your thumb to the door with a tilt of your head. “i’m going out for a run.”

“be safe,” she nods, waiting for you to respond with your own nod. in the midst of the silence, she stares into your eyes with an unrecognizable look, like she can see right through you, and it makes you shiver. she’s been spending too much time with haerin.

immediately as you step outside, you feel the early morning breeze hit your exposed skin and regret not bringing a jacket. it’s whatever—the exercise will warm you right up. exercising has always been one of the hobbies that could relieve you of your stresses, ever since high school. it served well as a distraction from exams, from your friend’s delusional crushes, and from the thought of having to practice singing and dancing for eight hours the next day. you hope that will be the case for today. 

starting with stretching your limbs, you pay extra attention to your legs since it’s been a minute since your last run. you pull out your phone and open spotify, tucking the earbuds into your ears, and restless by bibi fills your ears. the soothing nature of the intro is a pleasant launch to your session, and you focus on getting one foot in front of the other in a walk, slowly speeding up.

the last time you took a few laps around the neighborhood, it was with hanni. she, ever the curious soul, had asked to accompany you on one of your regular runs, and of course you said yes. about halfway through the usual three miles, she stopped you abruptly and asked for a break. 

(“wait, wait!” the shorter girl called out, and when you looked over your shoulder you could see her hunched over and leaning her hands on her knees. “couldn’t we take a break?”

you checked your wrist watch, tapping on the screen to pause the time. “it’s only been 15 minutes, though?”

hanni made a face and gestured at your belt holding a water bottle. you slipped it out of its compartment and handed it to her, which made her expression shift into a satisfied and thankful grin. you smiled at the change. “do you want to stop by the river?”

the girl paused in her drinking. “how far is that?”

“not too far. we can feed the ducks?”

“oh my god, yes please.”)

the two of you had gotten back way later than scheduled, and got scolded by minji. you had to deliver the explanation, though, since hanni couldn’t get through it without giggling between every word. it was because you started dancing to eta for the ducks, much like hanni did in an older vlog.

a familiar wave of nausea hits you as you pass by the mentioned river, though nothing comes out when you instinctively cough. it leaves a strange burning sensation in your gut—it must be the effects of the pills. you can’t decide whether it’s better than coughing out petals or not. the song changes to another. you can’t remember what the previous one was.

it takes you longer than before to finish running three miles around the neighborhood. part of the reason is because of your lack of practice, and the other part is because of your mind being consumed by forget-me-nots. 

you’re standing in front of the entrance of the apartment complex, hesitating in your movements. you can’t find it in yourself to return home. what would you do? go back to sleep? write lyrics? 

a thought surfaces in your mind. minji must be awake by now; she’ll know what to do.

the charms attached to your keys click and clack against each other in a dissonant jingle, and you push the door in with an open palm. danielle has finished her prior sketch, it seems, and is now drawing haerin who’s currently scrolling on her phone with a heavy-lidded gaze next to her. she looks seconds away from falling asleep, though it’s only eight in the morning. danielle greets you with another wave. you send a nod back.

the music playing from a certain member’s room has ceased, and her door is open. you can’t help but wonder where she has gone. instead of going to your room, you make a beeline to minji’s and slightly push open her door. hanni’s all sprawled on the taller girl’s bed, legs kicking and everything, sifting through a playlist to play on minji’s bluetooth speaker. minji perks up at the door creaking open and widens her eyes, preparing to say something but hanni beats her to it.

“oh, hey y/n!” she chirps, waving you over, “come lay with me, minji’s new blanket is so warm.”

a familiar and welcoming warmth floods your heart. you look over to minji, whose expression is stuck between hesitation and something else. whatever it is, you assume it’s a look of concern.

hanni tilts her head and her stare burns an aching hole into you. once you stop fighting the urge to join her and concede, she beams that wonderful grin and all the tension in your shoulders is released. minji’s conflicted gaze lingers on you until she sighs and turns back to whatever it was that she was doing at her desk. you don’t join hanni in laying down, but you sit on the edge of the bed next to her. she sends you a questioning look, pouting, but you point at the training clothes you’re wearing.

“i’m sweaty,” you say, causing hanni to playfully roll her eyes. “i went for a run.”

the shorter girl throws one of minji’s teddy bears at you, and you catch it. it’s soft and fuzzy, wearing a gray sweater. “look at you, being productive in the morning! you haven’t gone on one for ages.”

because her statement was true, you couldn’t find any argument to refute it with and settled on the excuse of practice for the ongoing comeback. today is one of the rare free days, since you’ve been promoting for about two weeks straight now. tomorrow, you and haerin are scheduled for an appearance on a variety show that you can’t remember the name of.

there’s a pause, the atmosphere calm and relaxed, and you start to space out as you stare at some poster in the oldest’s room until hanni taps her hand on your back. you whip your head around, bending your arm back to touch on the spot she hit. it tingles. 

“are you free later?” she asks, a lazy smile spreading across her face. “i want to go shopping—jay’s coming over tomorrow.”

right. that guy. you almost forgot about him. before your thoughts could drop into a spiral, minji spins around in her chair and cuts through your hesitance. “y/n and i have plans later, actually.”

hanni frowns, her eyes darting between you and the taller. “later being…?”

there hadn’t been a mention of any planned hangout—this especially contradicts minji’s earlier claims of being free the entire day. 

minji stands up from the chair and trudges over to her closet, picking out the first few things she sees, and then turns back to the bed where the vietnamese is now sitting up in confusion. “later is now, actually. y/n, are you ready to go?”

knocked out of your stupor, you scramble to your feet just as the nauseating feeling caused by the mention of hanni’s whatever-he-is starts up. “um,” you glance at hanni, “yeah. let’s go.”

you can’t help but notice the puzzled gaze that the girl sends you as you let yourself start to be led out of the room by the hand. her eyes hold confusion, maybe a smidge of frustration. her sulking is evident in the pout she makes as she watches you leave. 

once minji is finished changing in the bathroom, she smiles at you and intertwines your fingers together, leading you out through the front door. you’re stuck in a daze until she pulls you forward, suddenly noticing how you were lagging behind and practically had to be dragged by her. 

“you’re so slow,” she scolds playfully, scrunching up her nose. then, she lowers her voice to a hush. “did you take your pill?”

the scenery changes from the monotone walls of the apartment complex to the verdant foliage outside. it’s warmer now that it’s not six and a half in the morning—if it was, you’re not sure if the stroll you’re currently on would be enough to warm you up. “i took it this morning,” you reply, feeling uncomfortable. “but it feels like all the flowers are clogging up whenever it spikes.”

a beat of silence passes. minji’s only answer is a firm nod, and she starts swinging your connected hands. you blink. the atmosphere between the two of you became unnervingly awkward from her lack of verbal reply. you swallow thickly, “so, what plans did we have?”

the topic change is successful. minji stops swinging your hands back and forth to look over at you in surprise. she squeezes your hand. “uh, i mean to be honest, i just wanted to get you out of there. do you want to do anything specific?”

“no,” you shake your head, looking at your linked hands, then to the ground, “i—”

your sentence is interrupted by your phone buzzing in your pocket and you quickly turn to minji with an asking gaze. she nods, pressing her lips into a thin line, and you take your phone out to check who the notification was from. the lock screen is of you and the others, with hanni resting her head on your shoulder with an eye smile and you smiling down at her. minji and haerin are playing with a dinosaur-shaped water gun, and danielle is in between everyone, arms wrapped around you and hyein's shoulders. just the mere sight of the photo, taken by one of your managers, warms your heart. 

unlocking the device, you open your messages to see three pictures that hanni has sent you—mirror pictures, showing off three different outfits. a smile automatically makes its way onto your face as you scrutinize the photos she’s sent, and you can just barely hear minji scoff and chuckle in amusement next to you. minji has led the two of you to a nearby bench, sitting you down so you don’t interrupt anyone walking in the midst of your texting.

hanbun  ₍ᐢ. .ᐢ₎ [attachment: 3 images] which one?? you hmmm 🤔 the second one oversized always looks good on u btw what's this for? hanbun  ₍ᐢ. .ᐢ₎ jays coming over remember! i need to impress him so he doesnt think im a slob at home i rlly like him i wanna make this count yk

your chest throbs and you feel a group of petals swirling around in your gut. it’s disgusting, not being able to spit out the very reason for your pain, but still feeling it in a passive state. minji rubs your back soothingly in circles. it only slightly helps. after taking a moment to compose yourself, you open your phone back up to see more texts from hanni.

hanbun  ₍ᐢ. .ᐢ₎ yn??? hellooooo r u there you sorry had to tie my shoe isn’t he just coming over? u don’t need to dress all fancy to impress him hanbun  ₍ᐢ. .ᐢ₎ ugh i know but what if you the second one then hanbun  ₍ᐢ. .ᐢ₎ thanks! ill treat u to some boba as thanks <3 you ofc

you pause, pondering whether or not you should send the next message you already typed out in a flash.

you anything for you hanbun  ₍ᐢ. .ᐢ₎ 😆

the screen shuts off and you lean back against the wooden bench, taking a deep breath. the two of you sit in silence for a few moments longer, and then minji stands up with a big stretch. she turns to you, reaching her hand out for you to take. another set of petals swarm your gut and you shiver. 

“let’s go practice.”

an offer intended to provide a distraction. a saving grace. you take her hand, her fingers rough and smooth in contrast with hanni’s calloused fingers. both made you feel warm and fuzzy inside, in two different ways.

“okay.”

old habits die hard.

as a trainee, practice had been a more-than-efficient outlet for you to vent your stress into. it might not have been the healthiest, but it worked—and it was the only thing you knew. minji was the one who had brought you out of the habit, seeing as you worked so hard to the point of collapse.

come to think of it, minji’s been there for you for most of your recent years. from trainees, to debut, and now with your… situation. have you ever thanked her for all she’s done? you have to make a note to do so. 

“you should loosen up your turn here,” minji says, explaining her words in the form of a demonstration. she pivots on her left foot and pushes her torso to the right, her motions more fluid than your earlier ones. “you’re putting too much pressure on your leg—just let yourself move freely.”

your eyes snap to the mirror, replicating her movements as best as you can. a small smile tugs at the corner of your lips when she flashes you a thumbs-up. minji shuffles over to the laptop to pause the music, and turns back to you. “let’s take a break?”

“just a little more,” you frown, taking a step forward to attempt to turn the music back on, to no avail as the taller girl closes the laptop shut and crosses her arms.

minji stands firm, her stance unwavering. if you weren’t already used to this side of her, you’d be shaking in fear. “you know how that’s gonna end.”

her eyes bore into yours, and you have to look away or else the cracks in your soul would expand. “fine.”

by the time minji settles down next to you, cross-legged and taking big gulps from a water bottle from the fridge in the corner, your eyes are drooping in exhaustion. your head is leaning to the side and she notices, scooting back so you could lay your head on her lap after much resistance. 

“you know,” she starts, pressing dents into the empty plastic bottle. the crackling sounds sting your ear. “practice is good. it sharpens your movements, hones your skills, and most importantly, it distracts.”

yes, distraction. it was something you knew very well, precisely the reason why you always fell back into it.

minji places the twice dented bottle in front of her on the floor and reaches down to move a strand of hair out of your face. “i’m sure you already know that. since the start of time, you’ve known. but you also know that overworking yourself can make your practice backfire, and then all your hardwork will go to waste.”

“take care of yourself, y/n-ah, please.”

you look up into her eyes, full of worry. “thank you, minji. i’ll try.”

sometimes you feel as if haerin could burn a hole into you with just her stare. it’s happening right now, as you try to write lyrics for a new song in your room. the feline is laying on your bed, but you can feel her staring through your back. it’s utterly unsettling.

“is there something wrong, haerin?” you turn around in your chair, gulping. “you’ve been staring at me like crazy ever since you waltzed right in here.”

lucky for you, the girl relents and she pulls the covers over herself. “why’d you go out to practice today? and to run? you haven’t done that in a long time.”

of course. if anyone is gonna notice the changes in your routine, it’s always going to be haerin. you turn back around in the chair. “felt distracted. i wanted a change of pace.”

“oh,” haerin hums. “does it have anything to do with hanni-unnie?”

god, her observant nature is so double-edged. the thought of hanni makes your heart clench, but nothing rushes up. good. 

“maybe,” you answer cryptically, “maybe not.”

you reach over to turn your fan on, toggling it to the highest setting. it’s spinning at a moderate rate, and it replaces the silence that was left after your reply. haerin sits up, ruffling the blankets that are covering her lap. “hey, y/n-unnie,” she starts.

without looking up, you hum. the cat-eyed girl doesn’t continue until you sigh and spin around to face her. “yes, haerinnie?”

she blinks owlishly at you. “those flowers from the past few weeks wouldn’t happen to be yours, would they?”

the fan buzzes. you stand up to open the curtains on your window. the sun comes shining through, and you even have to squint a little to adjust to the newfound brightness in your room. you smile when the girl in your room winces. 

haerin may be an observant girl, and she might already know about your condition, but the best thing about her is that she never tells a soul about what she knows if it’s that important. you lean your back against your desk, pencil left on your notebook, and the sun casts a shadow over your face.

“go to sleep, kitty kang. i got new comforters.”

the feline tilts her head at you, curious but never pushing, and lies back down obediently. she tucks herself deeper into your blankets, bringing her phone closer to her, and closes her eyes with a contented sigh. there’s always been an unspoken agreement between the older girls, to not burden the younger members too much, but they always want to know anything and everything about their older friends.

you’re sure haerin already knows, but for now, you’ll pretend like she’s blissfully unaware.

one month has passed since the day out with minji, supernatural promotions have concluded, and newjeans has been granted a break. you should be resting, but like a cat always makes its way back home, time and time again you find yourself in the dark-walled practice room.

in the practice room, there were oxygen masks. at the dorms, there was hanni.

hanni, who has started dating jay. it started about a week after that day with minji. fortunately, you’ve grown so familiar with avoiding hanni when possible that the effects of the flowers have been reduced. today, you even decided to skip the pills. minji wouldn’t know.

you can only watch your reflection as your body moves to the beats of the song, moves on autopilot while your mind is occupied. hopefully, the thoughts of perfecting your moves will drown out all the longing thoughts. despite the growing fatigue weighing down both your psyche and frame, the squeaking of your sneakers and the vibrations of the speaker will always provide you a sense of invigoration.

after all, old habits die hard.

there was a time when hanni would stay with you to practice, simply because of how stubborn she was to not let you go home alone. you miss those times, when you were really becoming closer friends.

(“what are you still doing here?” hanni gasped, swinging the door open and running up to you. you were leaning against the mirror, sweat dripping down your face, but still made a move to get back up and dance to the song that hanni thought she’d heard way too many times in one day.

“practicing,” you replied, “i made too many mistakes today. you should go home.”

the vietnamese huffed, pausing for a moment and then rolling up her sleeves, stretching. 

you frowned, pausing the music. “what are you doing?”

hanni grinned. “practicing with you. it’s dark outside, and we both live in the dorms anyway. i’ll dance with you, so let’s walk home together, yeah?”

you had never thought her smile looked so radiant.)

after the session, you both packed up your things and walked out of the building together. these late-practices became a regular thing, maybe every other day of the week. you still had school, but you would often come over to hanni’s dorm room after classes to talk about what you both did that day. 

on the walks home, you would even stop to go to the convenience store, or even spend hours talking on the swings in the nearby playground. but what was most memorable was the fact that hanni never failed to spot her favorite flowers in the display window of the flower shop.

(“hey, look,” hanni stopped at the window, just barely lit by a nearby streetlamp. “there’s forget-me-nots.”

“forget-me-nots?” you repeated, then looking at her incredulously. “how can you even see them?”

“i could recognize them from a mile away, y/nnie!” she sing-songed, smiling and going ahead with a skip in her step.

you rushed to catch up with her, whining. “hey! you can’t just run off like that…”

hanni turned to you, tilting her head. “we’re debuting soon. when we do, will you get me a bouquet of forget-me-nots, blue and pink, on the day of our first stage?”

it was winter, and it might have been bloody cold, but that didn’t matter because your cheeks were filled with so much warmth. you had never felt this way about another person, in fact, you swore to never feel like this toward another. you quietly apologized to your younger self. there seemed to be no way out from it.

“of course, han. i’ll make sure to get the prettiest batch.”

the shorter girl beamed. no flowers could ever match her beauty.)

the door clicks open and your eyes are forcefully torn away from the mirror by the human nature of curiosity and alertness. there, hyein stands, looking afraid and timid, which is out of character for her. she holds up a cold sports drink, which must’ve just been taken out of a freezer or a cooler because there’s condensation dripping down the side of the plastic.

you shuffle to the laptop connected to the speaker and pause the music, facing hyein who has now walked over to where you were. “hyein,” you greet, grabbing a towel to wipe the sweat off of your forehead, “what are you doing here?”

she hands you the ice-cold drink, and you waste no time in unscrewing the cap and gulping down half of its contents, releasing a refreshing and relieved breath at the end to appease the youngest. “minji-unnie told me you’d be here. and um,” she bites her lip, suddenly feeling like the ground is more interesting than whatever is about to happen. the volume of her voice drops significantly, and you have to strain your ears to be able to hear what she says. “i want to talk to you about something.”

something? what could something be? it can’t be the flowers, you’ve tried your best to cover up any trace of them, but could you have been careless? 

hyein pulls out her phone and shows you pictures that were taken the night you got home from the hospital with minji. blue and pink forget-me-nots, littered all over the floor, in the sink, and stuffed into the trash bin. remnants of blood on the petals, on the counter, and on the tiles. the orange tinted prescription bottle on the dining table.

your face pales. you’re then tackled into a hug by the taller girl, and soon your ears are filled with the sounds of her sobbing. her phone drops to the ground, clacking against the dark, hardwood flooring of the practice room. 

“unnie,” she clutches at your oversized long sleeve shirt, voice so full of emotion that it brings you out of your stupor. you bring your arms around her, and she unconsciously lowers herself so that you could place your chin on her shoulder, just like always. a big sniffle comes out of her, and you feel the back of your shirt getting wet. “were you ever going to tell us?”

you’re glad that you are the one facing the mirror, because you wouldn’t have to take a look at your cherished younger member’s crying face—only your own, unrecognizable one in the reflection. this time, it’s crystal clear and not distorted by streaks of water.

“there, there,” you pat her back softly, murmuring gentle reassurances so that her tears may be reduced. hyein was the last person that you wanted to know about the situation, but it can’t be helped. now that it’s come to this point, she deserved to know the whole truth. “let me get you some water and then we can talk, okay?”

feeling a nod against your shoulder, you take it as a cue to pull away and wipe her tears away with your sleeve. the cuff of your right sleeve is now dampened. you roll it up. “we’re out of water in this fridge, so i’ll have to get it from another room. can you wait here for me?”

hyein sniffles, wiping away more tears from the corners of her eyes. she barely nods, mumbling a quiet “okay” before you turn to open the door. something in your gut tells you not to open it, but you do anyway.

“let go of me, jay!” hanni half-grumbles, half-shouts, shaking off the man’s grip on her arm. he chases after her, a hint of pleading in his eyes as he scrambles to beg for another chance.

“hanni, please! we can talk about this, can’t you give us another shot?”

the short girl glares at him, seething in anger and distrust. “you cheated on me, jay. i’d be a fool with no self-respect to come crawling back to yo—mmph!”

he brings her into a kiss. you swivel around on your heel to shut the door behind you and face a confused hyein. it was a mistake to open the door. it was a mistake to skip the pills.

you fall to your knees and cough out floods of blue and pink.

it’s been a while since an attack this big happened. the medicine suppressed the flowers, which meant that when you coughed this time, everything kept spilling out. everything that you’ve tried to hide for the past month or so. the coughs won’t stop coming, and with the coughs come even more petals, to the point where broken stems appear in the products of your suffering. hyein rushes to your side, eyes widened and hands trying to rub your back in hopes that it would help, but after a minute of doing so she realized that she would need help from the outside.

she stands up abruptly, breaths becoming heavier with panic. “unnie, i, i’m gonna get help! stay there!”

you reach a hand out, “hyein, wait—” trying to stop the girl, but you’re interrupted by more coughs and more petals and hyein is gone, you’re alone in the room again, and you can’t breathe.

everything isn’t going the way it’s supposed to be. nothing ever goes your way. you stay hunched over on the ground, chest heaving until your coughs are dry and bear empty yields. there’s an impressive pile of flowers, both with stems and no stems, full flowers and just petals, on the floor under you. you struggle to sit up, shakily coming to a stand and slowly walking over to where hyein’s phone is on the ground.

“it’s okay,” you mutter to yourself with a hoarse throat, “it’s fine. everything will be fine.”

hanni's mind has been in a swirl of frustration, anger, betrayal, and now it's confusion because she just saw hyein run out of a practice room screaming for help for you. jay's still standing at the part of the hallway in which she slapped him after he kissed her, but she couldn't care less. because now, now she knows that you're in need, and you're in the practice room, and she knows that you've been avoiding her and she didn't mind it because of jay, but she still loves you because you're her best friend.

her best friend that could solve every problem in the world for her. hanni wants to return the favor. find out what’s happening to you. fix the problem. she knows cpr! ...hopefully that knowledge isn’t needed in this situation. 

the moment she walks into the practice room, she notices a pile of blue and pink forget-me-nots. her favorite. they’re speckled with blood and wow, that’s a lot of blood for flowers, and she realizes that flowers don’t bleed, and that the only person it could’ve come from is you. flowers. blood. hanahaki disease.

fix the problem.

hanni isn’t thinking when she runs up to you, cups your cheeks, and crashes her lips onto yours. she isn’t thinking when she lets her tongue swipe your lip, granting herself access to explore the inside of your mouth with her tongue, isn’t thinking when her teeth clash with yours. she’s just fixing the problem.

sometimes, she thinks that she isn’t a good friend. she ignored you for a stupid guy, and because of her ramblings, she didn’t notice that you were in pain. 

and then she feels something sharp pricking her tongue, and she withdraws in pain. you’re staring wide-eyed at her, breathing heavily as you fumble with your hands to pull a flower out from your throat. it’s a full stem, but it has thorns on it. hanni doesn’t think she saw thorns on any of the ones in the pile behind the two of you.

for a moment, it’s silence. just you and her, staring at each other, staring at the thorned flower that you just pulled out of your mouth. she’s stained the skin around your lips with her peach lipgloss. the next moment, hyein and minji come running into the practice room, take one look at hanni and make inferences about what just happened, and hyein takes you out of the room. hanni swears she sees you trying to say something before you’re pulled away.

minji surges forward and grips her by the collar of her shirt. “what did you do?”

“i—” hanni gasps, trying to get the girl’s hands off of her shirt.

“what, did you do, hanni?” minji growls, pure fury encapsulated in her eyes. it’s intimidating. hanni doesn’t know what she did wrong.

“i was just fixing the problem,” she responds. minji looks deep into her eyes, gaze searching for something that may not be there. then, she swallows hard, releases her, and leaves the room.

hyein sits you down at the company café with a cup of water. minji joins the two of you and sits across from you. you spin the thorned flower between your pointer and your thumb. “i’m going to take the surgery.”

“surgery?” the youngest asks, furrowing her brow. “what surgery?”

you take a sip of the water, feeling it rush down your aching throat. “surgery to get rid of my feelings. for hanni.”

“are you sure?” minji asks, sliding her hand over to cover yours.

you don’t look at either of the girls, just down at the table. “no, but… i have to.”

you haven’t spoken to hanni for two days straight. sure, you’d been avoiding her since she started dating jay, but you still texted her back and you still acknowledged her presence. she’s done a lot of thinking ever since she kissed you. how it was an irrational decision, how she was wrong for kissing you so abruptly, and how much of an idiot she is.

for not noticing your pain, and for not noticing your feelings toward her. 

hanni’s done a lot of reflecting these past two days, reminiscing about the old times and feeling regretful that she ruined your friendship in just two minutes. but because you’ve made no appearances in the dorm, at least to her, she’s been in a plaintive mood; she can’t apologize to you. everyone in the group knows by now—about your condition, and about what hanni did to you.

it’s hard to stay positive when her own members treat her with a different air. haerin can’t find it in her to say anything, hyein can’t even look her in the eye, danielle can’t stop giving her comforting hugs, and minji can’t stop glaring at her.

and so she decides that she has had enough. she can’t find you anywhere in the dorm or the company building, so she calls the manager and asks him where you are.

— “y/n? uh, she’s at the hospital.”

hospital? she doesn’t think twice before hanging up the phone and putting her shoes on.

it was no wonder that everyone in the dorm was gone.

the cold air of the hospital greets her after she steps out of the black management cars, her senses being greeted with that indifferent scent of disinfectant. “i’m looking for a y/n,” she tells the receptionist, words melting together in a fast rhythm, “a cho y/n.”

“she’s in room 106, but she—” 

before the woman finishes her words, hanni’s already bolting off to where you are. she doesn’t need any assistance because you’re staying in the exact same room that hyein was when she broke her foot. unbelievable.

once she gets out of the elevator, she dashes down the hallway, maneuvering around nurses and patients without any apologies, only to come face to face with minji, who is blocking her path. she tries to go around her, to no avail. the taller girl crosses her arms with a stern look on her face.

“let me in, minji,” hanni says, tears welling up in her eyes. she’s so worried about you, and she still needs to apologize. what happened to you? “let me in!”

the cold front that minji put up dissipates in milliseconds, and she’s looking at her the same way she did in the practice room that day. “you don’t get to see y/n. where were you when she needed you most? huh!?”

“i didn’t know!” hanni exclaims, “i wasn’t thinking at the time.”

minji narrows her eyes. “of course, you weren’t,” she spits out, “was there a time where you ever thought about her? did you even want to know? she’s been loving you for years. years, hanni!”

tears are unleashed from the corners of the shorter girl’s eyes. years? 

she’s not given any time to react, as minji shoves her back physically. “and what did you do when you finally found out about it? you fucking kissed her as if it would fix anything.”

she’s never liked arguing. when she argues, she lets her emotions win over her rationality, and it has never done anything good for her. “i was fresh out of a breakup; i was out of my mind. did you,” she shoves minji back, “do anything for her?”

the girl scoffs. “i was the one who comforted her, who helped her through all of this, while you were off playing boyfriend girlfriend with jay. i don’t even know why she kept loving you through all the hurt. you didn’t notice her pain, but i did.”

hanni grits her teeth, pushes past minji. she opens the door to your room with minji following after her, and then she sees you.

“y/n,” she breathes out. you turn your head toward the door, where hanni is. minji’s right behind her, anxiety bubbling up in her head. you can tell in the way her movements are so erratic.

“hey, han,” you smile, intertwining your fingers with hers when she takes your hand in hers. in the back, minji looks away. 

“are you feeling better?” she asks, hugging your hand to her chest.

“mhm,” you nod, eyes crinkling up as you smile, relieved, “it’s as if i never loved you at all. the surgeons sure are impressive—there’s no sign of the flowers at all.”

hanni’s face drops. all the tension in the room has now gone away. “what?”

a/n : hello.......... this was supposed to mark my comeback but it took a little while because i did nawt.... mean for it to be this long... but i hope you guys like this one!!!! i think it's funny how you can tell who my njz bias is cus one. she has the most fics and two. she has the two longest fics that ive written for njz LOL

[00angelyoon]

- ᡣ𐭩 his favourite girl

you were his favourite girl, baking him a cake so pretty and all

starring: Husband Mingyu x curly-haired female reader

synopsis: you had decided to wear his favourite dress of yours a maxi dress that loosely hugged the curve of your waist with flower embroidery that had a cleavage just how he likes it, wearing your pretty curls naturally just how he likes it, he could see your white lacy bra strap with bows (his favourite lingerie set) just how he likes it and you did your makeup just how he likes it.

tags: smut, fluff, female anatomy, reader wears makeup, dresses, female pronouns and just very feminine presenting, oral and penetrative sex (female receiving), pet names (favourite girl, sweet girl, my pretty, honey, good girl, sweet and mingu), slight degradation (my pretty little whore), mentions of food, intentional lowercase.

notes: sorry for my in-activity, i literally had a dream about this, i had to pick which seventeen member i had to do mingyu because like me and him have the same birthday. (but reader and him don’t) also i meant for it to come out on his birthday but i had my own party and celebrations (actually im full of shit i just had a massive motivation drop and a severe case of writers block)

you had heard the turn of mingyu’s key against the apartment lock, you had turned of all the lights in the flat, the only light was the candles on the cake that you baked for your husband. you had made sure to make this birthday perfect, you had made a cake of his favourite flavour vanilla (eventhough he’s anything but that), wrote a really sweet card and had prepared his favourite food and movie in the living room.

“angel i’m home” you were hiding underneath the kitchen island but it still gave you a hidden view of mingyu who was looking around confused seemingly searching for you, he flicked on the corridor light switch, “angel where are you?” you waited until he was walking to your bedroom to stand up still hearing his confused calls for you, “happy birthday to you.” you started to sing, his adorable puppy smile illuminating his handsome face “oh sweet girl, you didn’t have to do this, did you bake this?” you slowly nodded your head, he clapped his hand with his fanged grin “happy birthday dear mingyu, happy birthday to you,” you push the cake closer to his face “come on birthday boy make a wish.” he leaned his neck closer to the cake and blew his 27 shaped candles out and quietly muttered something to himself.

you slowly set the cake on the dinner table and handed mingyu the card you had handwritten for him, he scanned the card with an adoring smile and nothing but love harbouring in his eyes. he placed the card next to the cake and glanced at your excited figure then he pulled you into his arms and looked down at your pretty face then he quickly pecked your soft berry coloured lipstick lathered lips but after the happiness waned he looked down at you and lust started to grow.

he was slowly growing hard, you had decided to wear his favourite dress of yours a maxi dress that loosely hugged the curve of your waist with flower embroidery that had a cleavage just how he likes it, wearing your pretty curls naturally just how he likes it, he could see your white lacy bra strap with bows (his favourite lingerie set) just how he likes it and you did your makeup just how he likes it.

while he was still in his horny daze you had grabbed by his wrist and guided him to the living room and showed him your little buffet he was oddly not devouring the food like he would usually do but he still praised you immensely. you both settled on the couch and started watching the movie.

in the middle of the movie your sweet husband started pecking up your neck and chin, you moaned “m’mingu” meanwhile he softly sucked on your ear-lobe “mm my pretty, couldn’t keep my hands off of you yeah, my favourite girl baking me a cake so pretty and all,” mingyu slipped your dress off and exposed your soft skin, to the cold breeze.

you had let out a sharp gasp as you were getting used to the cold ‘so pretty, my wife’ his mouth wandered to your cleavage kissing up your chest, thats when he undoes your bra clasp, revealing the flesh of your pretty tits, he sucked on your right nipple sloppily while pinching and fondling your left breast, moving back and forth never leaving one unattended.

‘aahh fuck’ mingyu had now begun moving towards your soaking wet sex. he slowly removes your laced panties, leaving you completely bare. ‘my sweet girl, always so good for me’ he praised in-between your plush thighs, you moaned wantonly when his tongue licked up your walls.

“dear fucking god mingyu’ you barley mustered up, arching your back off the sofa. you grabbed onto his hair steering his head towards your clit, “fucking love how you taste” mingyu groaned the vibrations only edging you on.

you looked down to see your husband furrowing his eyebrows seemingly devoted to making you cum, you began whimpering, only for your husband to quicken his pace ravishing you.

you start to feel a knot in your stomach coming undone, before you could warn your lover, you reach your point of ecstasy. mingyu is helping you riding out your high by sucking on your sensitive nub.

your husband moaned as he made a show for you sucking his fingers, then he brought his thumb to your mouth “suck my pretty” you licked up his thumb sucking it clean, “good girl”.

“mingu, need you” you murmured, “need me, im right here sweet” mingyu chuckled “you know what i mean” you complained “no i dont angel, im gonna need you to be more specific” “dear god mingyu, i need you to fuck me” you wanted to slap that cocky smile off his face “see angel that was all you had to say”.

mingyu began lining his fully hard cock to your cunt “you okay sweet” you love how caring and loving your husband is its one of the reasons you fell in love with him but now wasnt the time “minguuu” you lightly slapped his bicep to encourage him, your husband chuckled “ i was just checking in” thats when he began to push into your cunt.

he let out the most guttural moan “fucksake” he threw his head back. eventhough you guys have been married for 2 years now, he still cant believe that he was the one you blessed with the privilege of pleasuring you every single night and to see you in the writhes of pleasure every night still never fails to amaze him.

you began to beg him to move, clenching around him “angel if you keep on clenching around me like that ill finish embarrassingly early” after that mingyu slowly moved out of you and pushed back into you slowly building a rhythm.

you moaned loudly, and mingyu swore he almost cummed. your lover lowered his head to your neck sucking on it creating pretty little marks then he lowered his mouth to your tits creating more marks. “uhh faster faster please” mingyu grabbed your hips then he pushed faster into you, “love you so much, my pretty little whore begging for my cock” mingyu praised “ my pretty little whore” mingyu emphasised while slowly flicking up your sensitive clit, “say it” you furrowed your brows “say your my pretty little whore” mingyu was glaring into your eyes, his eyes hooded with lust and adoration “ im your pretty little whore, only yours” mingyu groaned quickening his pace “ im close minguu” “yeah, im close too sweet” mingyu lowered his head to kiss you and you swore it was like a taste of heaven. you grabbed his shoulder to oush him back onto your chest and moved your hands to his neck, kissing him with a different type of fervour and that familiar feeling in your lower abdomen.

you started to roll your hips while making out with mingyu, who had begun to pull out of your mouth to breathe leaving a sloppy mess. you repeated your lovers name like it was the only thing you knew.

“come for me angel, cream on my cock” and that was the straw that broke the camels back, in a slurry of profanity and ‘mingyus’ your husband filled you up with his babies. mingyu helped the both of you ride out your highs. afterwards mingyu cockwarmed you for a few minutes then mingyu picked you up leaving the sticky mess and brought you to the shower while you both giggled.

—————————————————————————

sorry for the inactivity pookies :)

[liiixsturniolos]

in desperate need of a matt angst fic with a happy ending

like maybe you guys fight because he’s been an ass all day and once he makes you cry he feels bad and makes it up to you. like something suuuuper angsty

you ask, I deliver 🙏

౨ৎ Flowers ౨ৎ

dad!matt sturniolo x reader warnings!: angst, fluff

summary: Matts giving you attitude all day, until he realises how wrong he was, apologises and makes it up to you.

Matt almost storms into the room, his boots slamming against the ground.

"Matt. Will you stop stomping? I just put Addy to bed!" You scold him.

He ignores you and walks past you as if you weren't there.

"Matt!?" You yell.

"Fuck! What?" He screams back.

Your eyes widen in shock at the way he spoke to you.

"Matt? What's wrong..?" You lower your voice, tilting your head slightly, questioning him

"Nothing, God." He scoffs, walking away from you, into the backyard.

You slump down onto the couch. turned on the TV and ignored whatever Matt was doing in the yard, just to be disrupted by your daughter Addy's cries. You lift yourself up from the couch and go to settle her back to sleep. Once she falls asleep again, you tip-toe back down the stairs.

Matt comes back into the house. You turn your head to look at him. His face, still angry and irritated.

"Where are those new pegs I bought?" He grunts, raiding the kitchen looking for them.

"Pegs?" You ask.

"Yeah, pegs for my bike?" He says In a dull tone, as If you should've known what he meant.

"Oh, I'm not sure. Did you check the garage?" You suggest

"Obviously, I checked the garage." He mumbles.

Your face goes red, and your jaw tenses up. Who does he think he is talking to? Does he think your fucking stupid? You've done nothing to piss him off, but for some reason, he's taking all his anger out on you.

"Matt, what's all this attitude about?" You ask, your eyes glaring at him.

He doesn't even look up at you to respond but keeps opening up kitchen cupboards looking for his motorcycle pegs. "What attitude?"

"Matt, are you kidding. You're talking to me as if I'm dumb, and you ignored me earlier." You bark back at him.

"God, stop nagging me.." he says, instantly regretting it and looking up at your face in fear of how you'll respond.

You sigh in disbelief. Roll your eyes, and walk upstairs to your daughters room.

"Shit..." Matt whispers to himself. He knew how he was acting. He knew he was in the wrong.

He flung his boots off and ran up the stairs after you. You see him follow after you and just scoff in response, lifting your daughter up out of her crib.

"I'm sorry. I know I was an asshole. Fuck. I shouldn't have been. Just my bike was pissing me off. I can't seem to fix it, and Nick and I argued yesterday. That's still playing on my mind. I'm sorry. Kay? I was rude." He blurts out, remorseful, raising his eyebrows and looking at you, hoping you'll forgive him.

"Okay. Just tell me what's wrong next time. You don't gotta' be so secretive about what's making you mad." You advise him, slowly rocking Addy back to sleep.

"Can I take her?" He asks you. "You deserve to sit down a while, I know I've been in the garage all day. It's my turn." He says softly.

"Yeah, of course." You smile sweetly, heading downstairs to go and finally watch TV.

Matt stays in Addys room, holding her and gently rocking her while singing to her quietly. When she falls asleep again, he places her back into her crib and strolls down the stairs.

"I'm gonna go out to the store. Do you want anything?" He whispers to you.

"Yeah, chocolate?" You smirk

"Of course." He says.

Twenty minutes later, you hear the car pull up on the driveway, and Matts key is unlocking the door.

"Hey darlin!" Matt shouts from the door.

"Hey!" You respond.

He walks over, hands you your favourite chocolate, and a bouquet of flowers.

"Aw! Thank you, sweetie!" You exclaim

He hugs you tight and lays soft kisses along your neck.

You let out quiet gasps as he works his way down with the kisses, tossing the flowers in your hands to the side...

part two..? if you enjoyed this, please interact! (comments, likes, reblogs, are all super appreciated) thank you! comment on any post and ask to be on my taglist and ill add you!

taglist: @matthewsroses @chrislilcumslvt @pvssychicken @1-d0nt-w4nn4-b3-m3-4nym0r3 @ivysturnss @mattsbitchh