#that’s all i have to say on this because not a single soul outside of shipping circles gives a shit | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

maudie-duan · 3 days ago

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Summary: What happens when the man you've loved since childhood decides he's ready to settle down, but it turns out you are no longer his forever. How would you cope with the sudden engagement? For Blair, it's a hard pill to swallow, knowing that the beautiful girl smiling in all his pictures will get her forever. I guess it's a blue Christmas this year.

A/N: I have to make a confession: I hate Christmas music, but the first time I heard Sabrina Carpenter's 'Cindy Lou Who' I knew this was my kind of Christmas song. I love a sad song, and this song feeds my "angsty soul," So please give it a listen before you read. This whole story is my interpretation of the song. Hope you like it. Happy Holidays enjoy!!!!

Requests: Here

Word Count: 6K

Warning: Mentions of Sex, Strong Angst and Langue, Family Dynamics, Mentions of Pregnancy, Heartbreak.

I don’t think sneaking my ex-boyfriend out of my parent’s house is the best look for anyone on Christmas morning, but technically, it’s still Christmas Eve if you haven’t gone to sleep yet, right?

To be fair, he was the one knocking on my window, stumbling his way to my bed. Casually, bringing up the past, circling back to things I thought I had already unpacked with my best friend after I scrolled his girlfriend’s social media, backtracking five years, to be honest, she had me broader line obsessed.

He made his way to my bed and in between my legs, touching place and sharing space in the best way we knew how, and that’s the funny thing about having history with someone—sometimes it makes it harder to say no when it’s knowingly what you want the second they step foot into a place that once served as a sanctuary to you both—a garden where words weaved trust, that turned into secrets, carving out a space of our very own; a world that we created and while he wasn’t my first kiss he was everything else.

I’ve lost track of how many times our words of forever were passed between our mouths, tangled in shared breaths of “I swear until the day I die, I’m yours.” When you’re young, you believe it because it’s all you have—and we took that with us when we thought we were ready for the world—two foolish kids on an endeavor to forge these grown-up dreams of a grand gesture without a second thought, only relying on the word “love,” like love could weather any storm.

The hardest lesson we learned was that love isn’t always enough. Sometimes, you can love someone with all your being and forget that they’re not a possession—but a person. Was that our mistake? I don’t know, but we wanted to be our own people at some point and find ourselves outside of only identifying as “we.”

Let me tell you, that’s a hard pill to swallow, and from time to time, I still find myself choking on it, especially when it is obvious we still click—we didn’t need sex to know that we still worked, fit together like a puzzle that had been forgotten, and dusted off, only to find that you still had every single piece. Still, when Harry tried to kiss me goodbye, I pulled away.

“Hey—what is it…tell me?” he asks

“Nothing…it’s just late. You know how my mom is about Christmas morning.” I lie because the reality of his leaving is starting to sink in. I’m not ready for him to leave, but we both knew that there would be an ending to this.

He laughs, attempting to shrug his jacket on, and I glimpse the joy of the familiar memory dance across his features, “Yeah, she can be kind of crazy, right?”

“Yeah—but not any crazier than your mom,” I laugh.

“Hey now—actually…you know they kind of feed off each others crazy…” He says, fighting to find the sleeve of his jacket, and when I reach to help, something falls from his pocket, a loud thud clashing against the hardwood floor. I look down, thinking he knocked something off my shelf, but then I see it.

We both stare at the ground, a small box lying in the space between us, “You shouldn’t have…” I declare, bending down—Looking back now, I don’t know what I was thinking—You know this tends to happen when you rely on your wit to get you out of awkward situations. I thought it would be cute and clever. I would open the box, and it wouldn’t be exactly what I knew it was—a ring, but not just any ring—the ring.

“Hey—hey—hey…give me that,” He jokes, trying to turn it into a game, but I’m in too deep to give it up. I can only focus on getting a peek at the ring, which is now a broken promise, and right this second, I’m desperate enough to open this box—basque in the feeling of the “what if” this was mine.

I turn away, shoving his hand out of the way, compulsively straining to get a look at this ring, immediately getting aggressive when he tries to reach over my shoulder. “Stop Harry—” I urge.

“Come on, Blair—this isn’t funny…” He says, unamused, but he’s too late, and as I shove my elbow into his ribs, the box is flipping open, the glint of the diamond catching the light of the moon shining through the window. He stops then because what’s the use, right? Here it is—the ring—perfect, everything I would have wanted. It’s almost like a slap in the face, like he looked back on one of the many pictures I sent over the years, thinking one day this would be me.

The ring is stunningly beautiful. There is so little light yet it’s drawn to every facet; immaculate, precise cuts creating the perfect sparkle. There is nothing humble about it, but nothing seems to be humble about him anymore, including his life choices—and here I am, holding my breath, afraid to move, listening to his flustered exhale when I slam the box closed, a loud clap shut.

Without a word, I nudge him away from me, “Blair, listen—I was going to tell you…”

“When—? Before or after we had sex, Harry…Is that what this was?” I yell.

He panics and cups a hand over my mouth. It’s not hard, but it annoys the hell out of me, and I wrench his arm away, forcing him toward the window, “Don’t you fucking do that—you don’t get to do that—”

“I’m sorry—but seriously, Blair, let’s not wake your family,”

I let out a dry laugh, “Oh—trust me, they would understand—” I seeth.

“Oh, for fucks sake, Blair, that’s not fair—I don’t know what this was…I just really wanted to see you—” he says, raking a hand through his hair, a deep crease forming between his brows, and he licks his lips, running a hand down his face as he turns away.

“What do you want me to do? This is the way it’s supposed to work out. You know my family …I don’t really have a say. You know that—”

“Please—Harry—you’re almost 30 years old. You don’t think you have any say in your life?”

He turns around, a condescending laugh filling the space, “You of all people should understand…”

“Well—I thought I did…but I don’t think I do anymore. It just doesn’t make sense…none of this seems to make sense anymore. I don’t understand how we could be perfectly fine one day, and as soon as your dad put you on the path to be a partner at his firm—which we both knew would happen—” I start.

He shakes his head, pinching his lower lip between his thumb and index finger, contemplating my words, “Help me make it; make sense. When we knew all along what the path was going to be. Were did “WE” get lost because I did nothing but support you, and then you went away on that trip with your family—”

“And you’re on about this again…” he interrupts, words cutting like knives because this was the theme of some of our biggest arguments.

I’m shaking my head this time, confusion inching through my brain, straining to grasp for details I thought I packed away. “Now that’s not fair…” I force, my throat burning with the effort of biting back tears.

“Listen—this is my fault—” he says, reaching for the box, “I shouldn’t have come. I knew this would be a bad idea, but I just—”

I grasp onto the box, wanting to catch his eyes. I want to see the regret, “Tell me, does it hurt you, hurting me…I could have waited for your mom’s Facebook post…I know she’s over the moon with her…just fucking smitten that’s she’s everything and more—”

“I should go,” he says, his eyes darting to the window before he slides the box into his pocket. He opens the window, and the cold breeze flits into the dark room, reminding me of how little I have on. My eyes float to the bed, already mourning us like a fading memory—disappointment crawling up my spine, the sick twist of regret already tearing at my emotions as tears fill my eyes.

“Yeah, this was a bad idea…” I tell him, choking on the words, and I can feel my body starting to tremble. I want him gone, forever, to leave and be with his girlfriend, who will get him in the daylight. Who will kiss the mouth of the man I love for the rest of her life—and I’m sick—sick with the thought of them—and damn—This was easier when there was distance when I could pretend he didn’t exist.

“I’m sorry, bee—” He whispers, a slight trimmer in his voice as he reaches out to me, and let him because if this is all that is left. I want that last kiss. I want a kiss from the lips that were once mine, but when he pulls me in, I reach for his face, and he interjects, grasping my hands in his, denying me my one last wish.

“Harry…” I whisper, hot tears burning my eyes, “It’s just you and me right now…” I plead because he has that look of goodbye in his eyes; the reality setting in, like me standing here in his old tee-shirt, is too real for him—The cold draft of the air brings the world in with it. Yes, I feel it too, but his hands are so warm, his face is so sweet and kind, and I know what he’s about to do.

“Bee—” He tries, swallowing hard, like the words are stuck in his throat, tears drawing in his eyes, and he rubs his lips together, shaking his head as his eyes dart to our hands, and I grip his hands harder because he’s going to leave—he’s going to leave, and I’m never going to get his back; This man—the love of my life. There’s never a time he hasn’t had me, and he’s going to leave, he’s going to move on, and he will still have me because I could never let him go.

And when the tears spill over and fall down his cheeks, my body aches with a longing that’s so deep in my bone it hurts—my love for him hurts so fucking bad that I don’t think I’ll ever not love him or not want to be with him. He’s standing here breaking my heart all over again, and I still love him. I still want him always and forever like he fucking promised me because he did promise, and now she gets him; she gets to have my always and forever.

Now he’s pulling away, and I won’t let him go; I can’t let him go. “Bee…please…” he begs softly.

“I love you,” I cry out, “I love you so much, H—” and he pulls me into his body, letting me sob into his chest, my hot breath seeping into his body, and I breathe him in, trying to memorize our scent, but it there like muscle memory something I could never forget.

“You know I love you, Bee…” he breathes, pressing a warm kiss to the top of my head, “You know I will always love you, but you know that we can never do this again…”

His words slice through my pain, filling me with rage, and he’s right. We can’t do this ever again; he doesn’t get to have me like this and go back to her—and I’m so fucking mad at myself for falling into his trap because I’ve been so good. I can’t even remember the last time I talked to him. He knew what would happen when he knocked on my window, and I was so stupid to let him—yet here he is still wielding his power.

“You have to go,” I tell him, trying to force myself from his arms, and Harry’s grip tightens.

“I’m sorry, Bee—”

“No—this was wrong—this was all wrong, and you shouldn’t have done this…we shouldn’t have done this—”

I push him toward the window, angry adrenaline a trimmer in my fingertips when I bring a shaky hand up to tuck my hair behind my ear, “You did this to us…” I tell him.

“I’m—” he starts, and I know he’s just going to try and apologize, but that will never be enough, not when I know what happens next—and what? Did he use me? Did he feel sad and come looking for my sympathy?

“Leave—” I spit.

“Bee…come on—”

“Leave!” I say louder, loud enough to send an echo through the room. He stiffens, his panic reaching his face, and I cross my arms over my chest.

“Fine—” he hisses, his hair falling into his face as he bends his body halfway through the window. Harry doesn’t even look back; he doesn’t even give me a tiny morsel of hope, and I don’t know what I was expecting. Then Harry is out the window, and I slam it shut, swiping the curtains closed.

“Merry fucking Christmas, you Asshole…” I breathe, falling onto the bed to cry.

…

Here’s the thing about Christmas in my house: we wake up and celebrate, and nothing else is allowed. It’s the one time of the year when my mom is allowed to live in the delusion that everything is merry and bright. There’s no space to be sad. She’s up with the rising sun, her hair perfectly manicured, her make-up set for pictures, wrapped in a festive robe she just “rolled out of bed” in, and then she’s on to two more outfit changes.

So this morning, when I woke, ready to welcome her joyful cheer, I was surprised to see none. I found her standing at the sink, my dad leaning against the counter like I had just interrupted a fight, maybe some disagreement they didn’t want me part of. My first thought was that they knew. They saw Harry leaving, or maybe my voice had carried, and they heard me arguing with him.

It was like being a teenager all over again as I walked toward the coffee maker to pour myself a cup. Without fail, the clink of the dish against the stone countertop ricochets through the thick silence in the room, making me jumpy; the slurp of the pour is interrupted when my mom speaks. “All I’m going to say is let’s get through this day. I don’t want to talk about it. We can call all touch base once everyone is gone—Bee, will you stay longer this time or not?”

I’m in the midst of taking a sip, and the hot liquid hits my top lip, burning me as my eyes move from my dad to my mom in question, confused by whatever this is that I walked in on, “I wasn’t sure if I wanted to stay longer…I have a project—”

“Can you—?” she asks flatly like you better say “yes.”

I look to my dad, who raises his brows, eyes widening, and he blows out a breath, his lip puffing as he brings his coffee to his mouth, “Fine.” I answer because it doesn’t seem like there’s any other option.

And that was it—She switched up her mood as quickly as the conversation ended. I stood there sipping my coffee, mentally preparing, and that’s how we carried on, pushing it under the rug.

It started with presents, each gift given its proper praise, mom all smiles, dad snapping pictures, my sister nudging my shoulder as a constant reminder to keep up the show, and it was perfect—it was— but every time the camera flashed. I could feel myself drifting to the thought of all the pictures that would greet me when I opened my phone—How her red lips and long dark hair would steal my breath, her beauty outshining us all.

She became the jealous quake in my bones at the thought of Harry down on one knee, entrancing my thoughts, repeatedly threatening to pull me out of the moment—and now my mom is shouting from across the room, bidding for my attention, as I try and swallow the persistent lump burning a hole in my throat, making every word a battle of will to say the most straight-forward sentence—and it wasn’t fair; It wasn’t fair that I got to sit with it all day—a reel of memories cascading through my mind, always the slightest reminder to remind me of the past.

The smallest gestures, a deep-seeded pain strangling my insides; all my dad had to do was glance down at his watch. The watch Harry gave him when he turned forty or every time my mom tucked her behind her ear, I caught sight of the diamond earrings he got her and his mom, making them both laugh the last Christmas we all shared because that was our thing—it almost doesn’t seem real that our moms used to be best friends, nowadays it feels like a lifetime since they even shared one word, my mom growing bitter the day Harry broke my heart.

A sudden breakup can wreck anyone, and inherently, our families became the collateral damage, causing a complicated ripple through our families, a rigid divide that none of us knew how to address, let alone manage any semblance of a relationship; maybe that was our fault. I couldn’t be his friend. It hurt too much to try and mask my feelings, to manipulate them into something they weren’t, like right now—how I’m torturing myself, scrolling through social media, almost hoping I’ll see the pictures I know his mom will post. Perhaps it will be what I need; to rip the bandaid off, the right push I need to fucking move on because I don’t know how much longer I can live in the misery of what was and wasn’t.

Dissasoiating—the word of the day—a single word that could describe my whole day because somehow it’s dinner, and I’m sitting around the table trying to piece together the lapse in time I’ve lost. All it takes is one look at my mom to straighten up and be present. I don’t even know what they’re talking about, nor do I care, but when my cousin Jenny asks me to pass the potatoes, and the light captures the glint of her new engagement ring, my stomach drops, the hideous ache of jealousy climbing up my spine, and I’m sick again, my stomach turning at the thought, that maybe he’s already done it, maybe he’s asked her and she’s wearing his ring on her finger, and they’re sitting around the table; and every time she takes a bite it reflects the light from the chandler, everyone smiling because what a happy time, what a perfect day; what a bright fucking future they have.

This time, I can’t control it; it’s all too much, and I’m scraping the chair back, politely excusing myself, then bounding to the upstairs bathroom, yanking my phone from my pocket—and without a passing thought, I’m doing it—I’m calling Harry—by the first ring, I’m in panic mode, pacing back and forth, willing myself to end the call, trying to keep the phone from sliding down my sweaty palm.

I’m all adrenaline as I force the phone against my ear, the ring getting louder, and each time it rings, a gnarled knot of guilt builds in the depth of my belly. I keep looking to the toilet on the verge of falling to my knees and heaving anything that made its way to my stomach—then Harry forwards the fucking call to voicemail, and tears are spilling over my lids, my whole body hot, like maybe I’ll combust right here, explode with the fury of heat rising in my body.

I’m surprising myself when I press his name again, bringing the phone back to my ear, and I hold my breath, waiting for the first ring. It rings and then rings again, and by the third ring, I think I might get through—and it’s all a joke because yeah fucking right—By the fifth ring, I’m second-guessing myself again, shame eating away at my flesh, and then he’s forwarding the call again—my shame flying out the window.

Okay, yes, maybe this is the part where I tell you I should be embarrassed—but fuck it, I’m calling again, losing myself a little more each time he forwards my call. By the 8th call, I’m tormenting myself, a pitiful excuse of a human on the ground so caught up in my own grief that I don’t even hear my sister knocking on the door. The knock sounds, making my heart leap in my chest, the fear of being caught ripping through like an earth quack, and I’m up, catching sight of my reflection in the mirror, not even recognizing the person looking back at me.

I haven’t felt this desperate since we broke up, like an anxious tick buzzing under my skin. The humiliation of it all is a time bomb, counting down the seconds until it ignites inside me—and I’m there. I ignore the steady stream of knocks and crouch down like the monster I’ve become because I can’t look at myself and do what I know I’m about to do—it’s my one last stance, and I shoot Harry a text:

“Your a fucking coward!” I send and then realize I used the wrong fucking “your,” and my pride won’t let me go out like this. I send a quick “you’re” to fix my mistake and watch the screen, knowing he is now more aware of his than before. When the line changes from “delivered” to “read,” I watch the tiny dots collect in the corner of the screen, awaiting his reply—they appear and disappear several times until it finally stops altogether, and he leaves me on read.

Just as I’m about to send “fuck you!” my sister opens the door, pushing the bobby pin she used to pick the lock back into her hair, and closes the door behind her. “Dude, whatever is going on right now—you need to get it together—it’s one fucking day, okay…that’s all mom asks for, and she’s down there growing impatient. So seriously…if you’re up here freaking out about another dude you met on a dating app—like this isn’t the time—”

“I had sex with Harry—” I confess right then and there because I know this will be the only thing that will make her understand.

“No—” she says, pulling a handful of toilet paper from the roll, “We’re not doing this right now…” She wipes the tears from my face and forces me out of the bathroom and into my room.

“You have two minutes to get your shit together. I need Mom to be in a good mood today…listen, I have big shit going on too, but you don’t see me up here crying—” and she’s right. I saw her pregnancy test in our shared bathroom trash. She must have been panicked when she half-assed her wrapping job on her test. I know I taught her better than that, but this was what I needed to pull myself back up.

I came down the stairs with a smile. Everyone in the sitting room was having coffee and dessert; this was the last stretch. This is all we had left, and then I can check my phone that my sister made me leave upstairs—and so I would drone on keeping up with conversations, tossing out witty remakes, bringing laughter and joy to everyone around, and when my mom sent me a genuine smile, I felt myself smiling back, enjoying the company of my family; and when dad slipped me the “good” eggnog I realized that there’s nothing better at taking the edge off then alcohol.

Four eggnogs in on an empty stomach, and I was working the room, exaggerating about my life and all the projects I’ve taken on at work, dodging questions about my dating life, and when my grandma brought up Harry four times, dammit, I didn’t even flinch, I just kept the conversation moving, filter out the emotions coursing through me like a breeze on a sunny day, right before a summer storm sets in. I even kept it cute and classy when cousin Jen took her engagement ring on a tour around the room, gutting me like a fish when she said, “I never thought I would get married before you…you know…like you and Harry were like “it” you know—” and I’m smiling again, getting a nod of approval from mom when she hears me congratulate Jen again, admiring her beautiful ring.

By eggnog five, I’m switching to “what he’s having,” I shout to my dad as I watched him pour, maybe whisky over the rocks, a shallow pour, but it packed a punch. I knew it was time to dial it back when I found myself leaning over Jenny, who was flipping between her social platforms, landing on Facebook, where I know for a fact Harry’s mom would be posting, taking care to tag everyone in each photo—which brings me back to the time when dear ole’ cousin Jenny started following Harry. It was Christmas break, we had just turned fifteen, and I could tell she had a crush on him. She spent all Christmas break following us around, cornering him anytime she could get him alone; I had to share my bed with her that Christmas, and I remember how miserable I was without the gift of Harry crawling through my window on Christmas Eve.

It’s wild to think of how feeble my grasp on time was when we were young, how a couple of weeks could feel like an eternity; it’s been less than a day since I saw him last. How am I supposed to go a lifetime of never hearing his voice again, to look into those green eyes that have seen me through so many changes, not to feel those hands that have cradled me like a child, held me like a lover, squeezing and pulling me into shapes that fit him; arms that carried and lifted me to heights that I could never have reached on my own—and maybe I speaking figuratively because no one has carried me at my worst or lifted me at my best until I was the best version of myself, but isn’t funny how the people that bring out our best know exactly how to rally the worst parts of us.

Mom taps her dessert spoon to her glass, grabbing everyone’s attention. It’s time for her big send-off speech. My eyes dart to my sister leaning against the fireplace, rolling her eyes, “I just want to start by saying I’m so thrilled that you’ve all chosen to spend this joyous holiday with us…you all know this is my absolute favorite holiday and every year I look forward to spending it with each and every one of you—” she tells us raising her glass, and everyone knows what’s coming next and as she starts her final lines— the same lines she uses every year—my sister sends me a wink mouthing the lines in unison with our mother.

“There’s no time like Christmas to let you know how appreciated you are. I feel honored to call you family…” and her hook, line, and sinker is, “May the light of Christmas warm your hearts this holiday season and remember love is the true spirit of Christmas—”

My throat burns as she finishes, “And always know how much I love you and always will…so before I start getting too emotional, I better cut myself off—” she laughs, wiping a tear from her eye, and as much as I hate how crazy she gets about Christmas, she really is amazing at being so selfless; to give everyone such a beautiful day, and I’m so grateful for her and my family, and then the doorbell rings taken everyone by surprise. We all freeze, eyes moving around the room because we’re all here, and no one is expecting anyone.

“Fred—” my mom calls to my dad. “Are we expecting anyone else?”

My dad’s reaction is slow, but he launches himself from the chair and excuses himself. When he comes back, he looks bewildered, half-tipsy as he shrugs his shoulder to tell us no one was there—and that was that. No one blinked an eye—yet my first thought was Harry, and I felt myself slipping because the whole day had passed; certainly, theirs was over by now, and the thought had me breaking my own heart, picturing her in his old bed, the whole family tucked away in their rooms, still riding out the high of such a magically joyful day.

And she’ll kiss his lip and say, “I love you.” He’ll lay her down in the bed I gave myself to him in, and he’ll make love to her like he loved me last night, and there is no end; there’s no end to the torture of it all because how can one person fuse themselves to every fiber of my being—and more importantly how could I still allow it?

As the last guest passed our threshold, Mom, being the gracious host she was, sent them off with candies and cookies, and I stood there wishing I was more like her, like my sister, who could always pretend, who knew how to wear “the smile” like a badge of honor. I wondered why this all had to be so hard. Why is love all or nothing? Why can’t we flip a switch and “poof,” it’s gone?

I watched my mom close the door, my siblings dispersing, and my dad already making his way back to his chair, but my mom just stood there. She let out a heavy sigh, her once perfect posture decompressing as she held on to the doorknob, “Oh Bee—” she said, eventually turning around to face me, and suddenly it looked like the weight of the day had finally caught up to her beautiful features, now tired—a mournful pinch between her brows, pursuing her lip while her eyes roamed my face. I’m trying my hardest to keep it together because there is something about that look a mom can give, that “I can fix everything with a hug” look.

“Do you need anything…I didn’t sleep very well last night. I was thinking of calling it early. if that’s okay?” I ask

“Oh honey, don’t worry about it…it’s been a long day for everyone,” she states, unbuttoning the first two buttons of her silk blouse, that mourful look still lacing her features.

“Let’s just deal with the clean up tomorrow…sound good, baby?” she tells me, slinging an arm around my shoulder, “I know today was hard for you…Thank you for being such a good sport. I’m so proud of the way you handled yourself. You did a beautiful job, sweetie.” Her words catch me off guard, and I turn to face her, my throat burning at the thought that she knows everything.

I swallow hard, opening my mouth to let out the words building up, but I can only manage a small whimper. “Listen, honey,” Mom starts, and I’m already a puddle in her arms, wanting my mommy to make it all better.

“I’m not going to lie and say it gets better, but one day, it’s not going to hurt as bad as it hurts right now, and eventually, when you find someone new—”

I gasped out a sob then, her words hitting every sore spot on my body, “Shhh—Shh—I know baby, I know—but listen,” She said, cradling my face in her hands, “I know that this isn’t what you want to hear—”

“But one day you will find someone new, and they’ll be just enough to get you over that last slump of pain, and maybe if you’re lucky enough…which I know you are…Harry will become a pleasant memory of the past, baby, because both of you were so lucky to have what you had. Not everyone will get to say they had a love like the two of you shared, and that is so so special, honey, so special—”

The tears are rolling down my cheeks faster than my mom can swipe them away, and it’s taking every ounce of strength I have to keep myself upright, “I love him so much—” I push past the sob, shuttering through me.

“I know, honey, I know—one of the hardest lessons we can learn is to let the people we love go, let them go so they can be free, and if it’s meant to be, they’ll come back—”

“I can’t, Mom, I can’t do it,” I cry, trying to bury my face into her shoulder, but she has a firm grip on it. Blair Marie, you are so strong, honey, and we are all here for you. You can do this, okay?” she says, nodding her head up and down.

“Okay?” She asks again, and I nod in agreement, “Listen—between you and me, we’re going to have our hands full anyway, right? Don’t think I don’t know about your sister—she’s next.”

I’m stunned into silence. “Yeah, I know. That’s how I felt at first. Honey, I love you. I am here for you. Now go get some rest…” she says, pushing me toward the stairs.

“Oh—and hopefully, we aren’t expecting any unexpected guests this evening….”

I shake my head, “I—”

“Yeah, slamming your window at the crack of dawn is a dead give away—”

Somehow, she manages to get a smile out of me, and I roll my eyes, ready to make my way up the stairs, “Hey, Mom, thank you for making today so beautiful…it really was beautiful.” I tell her.

“Oh—! And Mom, thank you for those kind words. I love you.” she smiles, placing a hand over her heart, and we share a look of knowing—and without a doubt, that woman managed to lift my spirits—again. She’s too good at that; she is father fucking Christmas.

And while my heart still felt heavy, I felt like I could get through this night. I would march into my room, head straight for my phone, and turn it off; there would be no doomsday scrolling. I would take a shower, hell maybe even take a hot bath to rid myself of this day—Maybe I would even start packing away everything in my childhood room that reminded me of him, set myself up for the next year, and seriously, it was amazing how quickly the motivation surged up my chest; almost bursting at the seams with the very thought of it.

So by the time I turned my knob, I was ready, so fucking ready—But as the door clicked open, a cold chill grazed over my wrist. All I saw was my curtains billowing back and forth with the breeze flowing in and out of my window, and I rushed over to shut the damn window because I didn’t remember opening it, but maybe my sister opened it while I was fixing my make up earlier and that’s when I hear it:

“Bee—”

I slam the window shut, panic rushing through me, every limb of my body shaking with it as I turn toward the sound. And there he is, the love of my life, sitting on the edge of my bed, hunched over with his face buried in his hands, and when he looks up. I can tell he’s been crying, and he pulls a small box from his pocket and places it on the nightstand, right next to the very same box that held his future, and all he says is, “I couldn’t do it—”

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eatmycodbetty · 2 days ago

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Lockwood Iron Trio Holidays Headcanons...

I know nobody asked for this. And I KNOW I should be working on the third chapter of "You Again"...but the holidays have been busy and you all deserve something for the wait.

Take this hc list for the iron trio during christmas times. All just sfw fluffy goodness to appease the soul :p (plus some x reader for shits n gigs xx)

⋆⁺₊⋆ ━━━━⊱༒︎ • ༒︎⊰━━━━ ⋆⁺₊⋆

Anthony Lockwood:

He isn't too used to being warm with others, but over the years he has gotten quite festive

The holidays tend to remind him the most that he does have a family, so it's a treasured time for him.

He has this one Christmas sweater that he wears the moment December rolls around that George gifted him one year.

Over the years Lucy and George have gifted him more sweaters so he doesn't wear that single one out, but he still tends to wear that one the most. He won't wear it for jobs, but at the house and off the record it's all he CAN wear it seems.

He will help to purchase decorations, but Lucy and George are really the ones to choose what is bought. He quietly enjoys this, they get really excited about which colors and motifs they should use for the year.

He'll help get out the tree and decorate the outside of the house, but the other two fuss too much about the details for him to worry about anything else.

He likes seeing their decorations, it makes him remember that there's other people in this house. He enjoys the comfort in knowing he's not alone and surrounded by people he truly cares about.

He will keep pretending to hate decorating just to see reminders of them dotted around the place.

Loves reindeer. Can't explain why, but he tends to have reindeer on any festive stuff he uses. That sweater he loves so much? You better believe it has a reindeer pattern on it. Bedsheets, mugs, slippers, anything- reindeer.

Favorite Christmas story? Rudolph. It's one of those pieces of nostalgia that doesn't make him sad, so he revels in the comfort of the oddly heartwarming story.

Even when he's wearing his suit out, he has Christmas socks on underneath TRUST

x gn!reader: He would stop at nothing to keep you warm. Even when you're just fine. Getting you a blanket, a jacket, HIS jacket, any warm drink your heart desires. He does it subconsciously but also he doesn't ever want you to be uncomfortable.

"No, no. I couldn't bear it if you caught a cold. I will be fine, I promise...just please put on the jacket, it is absolutely frigid."

Lucy Carlyle:

Loves to decorate with George (and annoy him because he can be a bit of a stickler when it comes down to it)

She likes to make little arts and crafts for the house and associates.

Little cards and the like are given throughout December whenever she feels like it. Kind of scrapbook-like and decorated well.

She goes to charity shops for SURE.

Little trinkets or dumb things will make their way onto George or Lockwood's desk with a little tinseled bow and notecard at random.

She is the least festive of the three, but at some point in their relationship she got comfortable with showing them that she does care during the holidays, because she tends to forget to say it most of the other time.

Her favorite holiday motif is a snowflake. Not because it is sensitive, but each one is so unique and pretty.

It's a nice reminder that there are natural and pretty things outside of the Problem.

She has a snowflake necklace that she rubs when nervous around the holidays.

Norrie gave it to her, and she stubbornly refuses to wear any other piece of jewelry during the colder months.

It's a simple silver charm, kind of like a comforting safety ward.

x gn!reader: She loves to go out and watch the lights that people put up. Something about the community aspect of everyone decorating their yards is admirable, and so she likes to be reminded of the lighter aspects of humanity. Long walks around London to see the lights whilst huddled together riddle your December.

"I wonder if they know that a few of their bulbs are out...OI! Where did your hand go??? It's too cold for you to escape me, come here!"

George Karim:

Will be way too serious about the Christmas dinner.

Like he HAS to make a great feast and it WILL taste amazing.

He would love if everyone helped out, but to be very honest anyone else in the kitchen tends to stress him out, so he's fine being the food-making freak each December.

Helps Lucy decorate, as he has done it for years before she came along and knows where to put things that go well with the house.

He likes the differences in their decorations, she makes it more fun rather than bare minimum decorating like he does.

He has kind of been forced to have Christmas spirit being the only one living with Lockwood for so many years, as having something lighter to think about during the winter is essential for working well

He has a family recipe for hot cocoa that he prides himself in, it's one of his secrets that he brings out every year.

There's a list of books that he saves throughout the year to read during the holidays.

Usually folklore and fantasy books that stay in the spirit of things, he tries not to mix work research with personal time if he can.

UNLESS it is about history that is also fun and spirited- he's still a bit of a (loveable) nerd.

x gn!reader: Reading on the sofa over ANYTHING. He loves to get a nice blanket to share and read for hours in each others warmth. His hot cocoa a staple for your reading sessions. Usually you end up with your legs entwined, talking about what you learned from your separate readings, updating each other as you keep going late into the night.

"You know...I really never asked you to hang out with me when I read. However, I really enjoy your company. And your warmth...more than you know. Thank you, y/n.."

⋆⁺₊⋆ ━━━━⊱༒︎ • ༒︎⊰━━━━ ⋆⁺₊⋆

Thank you all for reading!! Let me know if you agree or have anything you can think of to add- I love hearing other people's headcanons for our favorite trio!

Merry Christmas, Happy Hannukah, and Happy Kwanzaa!!

I will be updating with the third chapter as of next week! I have to survive the weekend and I'll be back to writing again. Have a great rest of December!! - ives :p

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cuteallo · 2 years ago

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so sorry but people being happy aloy kissed a girl isn’t biphobia and you guys really need to be careful about how you express that because you’re teetering on just hating lesbians

#tea.txt #hfw #burning shores #burning shores spoilers #listen i get it i am bi #and there have been a few outliers who ARE being biphobic #but i also identified as a lesbian for many many years #and a lot of what i’m seeing is two communities who both love women being pit against each other #why not - just a thought - be happy to have decent queer representation in a AAA game instead #it’s so unnecessary to have personal headcanons affect your enjoyment of something just because something else became canon #and yes i do also see aloy as bi. look at the choices the game gives you for aloy’s reactions to advances - especially with avad #but crying biphobia while shitting on lesbians is not the move #at the end of the day we are not the ones writing aloy’s story #and it’s important to engage with it as a work of fiction #not as an endorsement of one side over another #that’s all i have to say on this because not a single soul outside of shipping circles gives a shit #and i’m mostly a sidelines shipper. i dabble in it #just don’t like seeing any sort of bigotry in the community of something i really - truly - deeply care about #it happened with another AAA franchise i will not name

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cruel-seduction · 22 days ago

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Theodore Nott Headcanons

Warning: This piece contains themes of possessiveness, obsessive behavior, and dark romance undertones. Theodore’s devotion might be overwhelming, intense, and not suited for everyone’s taste. Reader discretion is advised.

(+ Requests are open so if you wanna request something, go ahead)

mdni 18+

Theodore Nott

6’4 | He’s taller than Mattheo, and yes, he lords it over him (quietly, of course, because Theo is above petty behavior… unless it’s funny).

Lean, but don’t be fooled—this man is cut. He’s that deadly kind of fit where you don’t notice at first because he’s always wearing loose sweaters and looking like a poetry major. But the second the sleeves roll up? Oh. My. God. Veins for DAYS, hands strong enough to snap a wand in half (or your will to argue).

He doesn’t work out. Like, ever. He’s just naturally like this. Probably from lugging around all those dark magic books and the emotional weight of his trauma (we love a man with issues!).

(He could choke you with one hand while quoting Dante and your ghost would thank him. RESPECTFULLY!)

Has that sleepy, “don’t bother me, I’m too cool for this” kind of vibe. Until he’s pissed, and suddenly it’s quiet rage central. A single glare from him could silence an entire Great Hall—and probably has.

His abs? Unfair. They’re there, but in the casual, effortless way that makes you want to cry because why do they look that good without trying? If you’re lucky enough to see him shirtless (bless your soul), you’ll be rethinking your life decisions.

Quidditch player energy without ever actually playing. His thing? Sitting in the stands, sipping black coffee, and judging everyone while looking hot.

"YOU WANNA KNOW IF I’D FOLLOW THEODORE INTO A CURSED FOREST AT MIDNIGHT JUST BECAUSE HE SAID SO??? THE ANSWER IS YES. I’D GO, NO QUESTIONS ASKED."

You think he’s calm and controlled until you see him in a duel, and suddenly he’s throwing hexes like he’s possessed. It’s giving “do-not-poke-the-bear” energy, and it’s hot.

His smirk? Criminal. It’s the kind of smirk that makes you forget how to breathe for a second and then hate yourself because he definitely knows the effect it has on people.

“Mia cara,” he says, and you’re done for. No wand needed. He just obliterated your whole existence.

Theodore Nott | Personality

He’s quiet, but it’s that kind of quiet. The "I could verbally destroy you with a single sentence but choose not to because I have better things to do" kind of quiet.

(WE LOVE A MAN WITH RESTRAINED CHAOS!!! IT’S SO SEXY!!!)

His reputation is split down the middle. People either think he’s the chillest guy in Slytherin or they’re low-key terrified of him. There is no in-between. He doesn’t go out of his way to make people uncomfortable, but if you catch his bad side? RIP to you, my friend.

Very composed most of the time, but don’t mistake that for softness. Theo doesn’t raise his voice; he raises his eyebrow. And somehow, that’s worse.

"You really thought that was a good idea? Cute."

Stone-cold when it comes to confrontations. No yelling, no theatrics—just a quiet menace that makes you wish he’d scream at you instead because this is SO MUCH WORSE.

However, if it’s for his friends? Oh, baby, the gloves come off. Someone messes with Mattheo? He’s done. Someone insults you? They’re not showing up to class tomorrow. He’s terrifyingly efficient when it comes to protecting the people he loves.

Doesn’t talk a lot in fights, but his insults are cutting when they come out. And he does it with a smirk that makes you want to both slap him and kiss him.

"What’s the matter? Spellbook too heavy for you? Or is it just that your brain isn’t working?"

Unlike Mattheo, he doesn’t get in trouble for starting fights. Oh no, Theo’s the one who talks his way out of detention, leaving the professors wondering how they ended up apologizing to him.

Let’s be real, Theo has layers. He’s the kind of guy who looks calm and put together on the outside, but his mind? A mess. Overthinks everything, but you’ll never know it because he’s mastered the art of hiding his emotions. (He’s good at this, but it’s also probably why he sleeps like four hours a night.)

Moody, but in a subtle way. You’ll notice when he’s upset because he’ll get even quieter, or start tapping his fingers on the table. He’s not the type to vent about it��he’ll just say “it’s nothing” while his jaw clenches so hard you swear you hear it crack.

Theo loves order. He’s a perfectionist and gets mildly stressed when things don’t go according to plan. He doesn’t lose his temper, though—he just sighs dramatically and mutters something in Italian like "Per l’amor del cielo..."

(BILINGUAL KINGS ARE UNFAIR. WHAT DO YOU MEAN HE CAN INSULT ME IN TWO LANGUAGES?)

A total academic weapon. Not because he tries super hard, but because he’s just naturally brilliant and does the bare minimum to get top marks. He can explain a spell you’ve been struggling with for days in five seconds flat, like it’s the easiest thing in the world.

Always looks like he’s in control, but put him in social situations? Total disaster. Theo’s not awkward, but he doesn’t do small talk. Half the time, he just nods politely and hopes whoever’s talking gets the hint.

Has the driest sense of humor. He’ll drop a sarcastic one-liner so deadpan you’re not even sure if he’s joking.

"I think your essay was… bold. Choosing to write it in such a confusing way must’ve been a creative choice."

Drinks coffee like it’s water. Black coffee, of course. None of that sugary stuff, though he secretly loves when you make him try your sweet drink.

Doesn’t like parties but goes because the group makes him. He’s the guy sitting on the couch, watching everyone else make fools of themselves while holding a drink he hasn’t touched. (He’s your ride home because you know he’s always sober enough to apparate responsibly.)

Theodore Nott | Boyfriend

Ah, Theodore Nott, the walking paradox of calculated charm and quiet vulnerability. Having him as your boyfriend is like playing chess against a master—except the stakes are your heart, and he already has you in checkmate before you even realize the game started.

Manipulation, Thy Name is Theo:Theodore isn’t one to beg for your love; oh no, he’s too smooth for that. Instead, he’ll make sure you think choosing him was your idea all along.

He’ll subtly nudge you into needing him.

He anticipates your desires before you even say them aloud:

"Thirsty? I grabbed your favorite drink. Tired? Don’t worry, I already finished that essay you were stressing about."

He’s not loud about his possessiveness, but it’s there. You don’t realize it at first, but suddenly, every other guy who tries to get too close to you is either giving you a wide berth or “just happened” to fail their next exam. Coincidence? With Theo, nothing is a coincidence.

(We love a man who’s low-key terrifying but only in a protective way!)

How He Realized He Was in Love:Theo didn’t believe in love. Love was messy, uncontrollable, and entirely too risky for someone who thrived on precision and control. But then you came along, and everything changed.

It was slow at first. He didn’t notice it happening until one day, you smiled at him across the library, and he felt his carefully constructed walls crack.

And then it hit him.

“Merlin, I’m in love with her.”

Of course, Theo didn’t panic outwardly. No, he spent the next week internally spiraling.

"What does this mean?"

"What if she doesn’t feel the same way?"

"How do I tell her without sounding like an idiot?"

Eventually, he decided that subtlety was overrated. One evening, while you were sitting in his dorm, flipping through one of his books, he just said it.

"I love you."

You froze, unsure if you heard him correctly. He didn’t look away, his intense gaze pinning you in place.

"You don’t have to say it back. I just needed you to know."

Affection, Theo Style:Theo isn’t flashy or over-the-top, but he’s deeply romantic in his own way.

Words of Praise: He’s a master of compliments that don’t feel like compliments until you think about them later.

"You’re too brilliant for this school, you know that?""How do you manage to look stunning even when you’re furious with me?""You’re the only person who’s ever managed to make me lose focus, mia cara."

Subtle Acts of Service: He’s always doing things for you without making a big deal out of it. Your favorite quill broke? There’s a new one on your desk the next day. You’re stressed about a test? He’ll quiz you until you feel confident (and then reward you with a kiss for every right answer).

The Praise Kink Is Real, Babe:Theo doesn’t just praise you to make you feel good. He needs you to know how much he adores you. Whether it’s your intelligence, your kindness, or just the way you look in his sweater, he’s always quick to remind you of your worth.

"You’re too good for me, you know that?" he murmurs against your ear, his hand resting on your hip. "But don’t think for a second I’ll ever let you go."

(Is it hot in here or is it just Theo?)

The Possessiveness Comes Out in Subtle Ways:

At parties, his hand is always resting somewhere on you—your lower back, your shoulder, your thigh. A quiet signal to everyone else: She’s mine.

If someone flirts with you, he doesn’t cause a scene. Instead, he’ll step in with that dangerously calm demeanor, his words laced with thinly veiled threats.

"I believe you’re in my seat." Translation: Touch her again, and you’ll regret it.

Theodore, the Unexpected Softie:For someone so composed, Theo is surprisingly soft when it’s just the two of you.

He loves curling up with you on the couch, one arm draped over your shoulders while he reads aloud from a book he thinks you’d enjoy.

Sleeps with one hand always touching you—your waist, your hand, your hair. It’s the only time he truly relaxes.

Occasionally whispers “I don’t deserve you” when he thinks you’re asleep.

Having Theo as a boyfriend is a rollercoaster of intensity and tenderness. He’s the type to protect you from the world while also making you feel like you’re the center of his universe. And honestly? We’d ride that roller coaster over and over again.

Theodore Nott | Obsessive Devotion

If Mattheo is chaos in bed, Theodore is calculated destruction. Theo doesn’t rush—no, he takes his time. He knows every move, every word, every touch is designed to drive you absolutely insane.

The Slow Burn King:Theo isn’t just about getting you off; he’s about making you beg. He’s not the type to drag you into the nearest broom closet and go at it like a madman. No, Theo prefers to let the tension build—catching your eye across the library with a smirk, his hand brushing yours during dinner, leaning in close to whisper something sinful in your ear when no one else is looking.

"You’re squirming, mia cara. Tell me, what’s on your mind?"

Possessive but Polished:He loves control—holding you still with a firm grip while his mouth works wonders between your thighs. Theo thrives on the sound of your moans and whimpers, each one a confirmation that you belong to him.

But don’t get it twisted: his possessiveness is refined. He’s not shouting it from the rooftops; instead, he’s branding it into your skin with every kiss, every bite, every low growl of, “Mine.”

(We love a man who can ruin our lives with just one look.)

Praise You Like a Goddess:Theo is the king of praise. He’s not subtle about how much he worships you, and he makes sure you know it.

"You’re so perfect, amore mio. I could stay like this forever, just watching you fall apart for me."

He’ll kiss every inch of your skin like it’s holy ground. He’ll tell you how beautiful you are when you’re flushed, trembling, and completely at his mercy.

And if you praise him back? Game over. Tell him he’s a good boy, and suddenly you’ve unlocked the most obedient, eager-to-please version of Theo. He’ll do anything to hear you say it again.

Control with a Dash of Chaos:Theo’s not loud, but his intensity is deafening. He thrives on being in control, but sometimes he loves to break his own rules. If you push him just enough—maybe tease him in public or drag him into a forbidden situation—he’ll snap in the most delicious way.

"You think you can play games with me? Let me show you how this ends, bella."

Experimentation, but Make It Sophisticated:Theo isn’t one to dive into wild kinks without purpose, but he’s creative when it comes to trying new things.

Silk ties? Check.

Blindfolds? Of course.

Whispering Latin endearments in your ear while he has you completely at his mercy? A standard Tuesday night.

And don’t get me started on the way he uses his fingers—this man could write symphonies with how skillfully he plays your body like an instrument.

Stamina for Days:Don’t let his cool demeanor fool you—Theo can and will go for hours. He has the patience to draw out every moment until you’re gasping and begging for release, and then he’ll do it all over again.

"Oh no, dolcezza. We’re not finished yet. Not until I’ve had my fill of you."

Switch Theo = UNLOCKED:Normally, Theo’s the one in control, but when you take charge? When you straddle his hips, grip his jaw, and order him to behave? He’s putty in your hands.

"Tell me what you want, bella. Anything—it’s yours."

And the best part? He loves it. Watching you take what you want from him, hearing you praise him as he falls apart under your touch—it’s enough to drive him to the brink every single time.

In Private, He’s All Yours:While Theo keeps his emotions tightly guarded in public, behind closed doors, he’s all in. He loves to hold you afterward, running his fingers through your hair and whispering sweet nothings as you both come down from the high.

"You’re everything, you know that? My whole world."

Having Theodore Nott as a lover is like being the muse of a masterpiece—every touch, every word, every moment is designed to make you feel like the most desired person on the planet. And honestly? We’re not complaining

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

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jeonginsleftcheek · 6 days ago

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Hate your guts (pt 1)

~ this fic is my Christmas gift💙 i'm dividing this into two parts bcs tumblr is shit

pairing: rockstar!hyunjin x rockstar afab!reader

genre: enemies to lovers, fluff, smut

wc: 26.6k

synopsis: hwang hyunjin, your sworn enemy. the person who finds and pushes all your buttons, annoys you and makes you angry. the person you're trying to avoid so badly, only to end up practically sharing a bed with him on tour. let the fun begin!

warnings: lots of swearing, smoking and alcohol, mentions of blood and throwing up, mild violence, multiple sex scenes, unprotected sex, oral (f and m), fingering, handjob, semi-public sex, spanking, creampies, mix of degradation and praise

a/n: thank you @frehyun for helping me come up with a name for hyunjin's band💕 also a thank you to @jehhskz @moonchild9350 and @hyunebunx for giving me suggestions, listening to me yap and being supportive while i was writing this🥹🩷🩷🩷 title is inspired by inji, go listen to her music🫶🏻

a little ramble: feel free to skip this! but i just wanted to say that this was supposed to be done sooner cause i had other fics planned out to write but work got in the way. so i wrote this fic whenever and wherever i could; hiding in the bathroom at work, during my break, at the bus station, at 3am when i couldn't sleep etc... it's been a ride and i'm proud of how it turned out, hopefully y'all enjoy it too🥹🫶🏻

“...And do you look into the mirror to remind yourself you’re there? Or have somebody’s goodnight kisses got that covered? When I’m not being honest, I pretend that you were just some lover…”

It was a perfect but short moment.

The fresh breeze coming into the car where the window was opened just a little was enough to give you some air but still managed to hide most of your face from the outside world.

The music in your ears was loud, so loud that you were drowning in it, the warm and comforting voice, the melancholic guitar riff in the background, and the gentle sluggish drums putting it all together into a song that made your eyes water.

You tuned everything else out as this was the only moment of peace you were going to get today.

You needed every shred of sanity you could gather, and you were determined to hold onto it as much as you could.

Because today, you had an interview with him.

Hwang Hyunjin.

Oh, the name you know so well.

Even thinking about the way it sounds makes you feel angry.

It seemed as if his life mission was to find every single button of yours and push them repeatedly until you exploded like a ticking bomb.

Your mind wandered as you thought about him and how much his existence angered you, your stomach turning into knots.

Or maybe it was just pre-interview nerves.

No matter how many times you talked in front of the camera, it always made you feel anxious and jittery.

Being on stage was fun, there was no anxiety there as whenever you would step on it and see all the people cheering for you and singing along to the music you and your friends wrote, your heart felt full, your soul elated.

It was an exhilarating feeling you couldn’t even begin to explain to someone who’d never experienced it.

Every concern in your head, every ache in your soul, every tear behind your eyelids threatening to spill got erased when you gave yourself to the stage.

If you could, you would definitely try to avoid the interviews and just perform.

But your record company had other plans.

Being the only up and rising all girls rock band in the company meant that you needed promotion, and what better way to promote than to collab with the only boy rock band in the same company?

Hwang Hyunjin’s band.

Yes, you couldn’t wait for this day to be over.

“Y/n!” you were shaken out of your thoughts, as your manager pulled at your headphones.

“What?” you almost snapped at her, startled by her antics.

“You were staring off into space and muttering angrily about Hyunjin. Something like ‘poke his eyes out’ and ‘conceited dick’.” Ana giggled, covering her lips with her hand as you rolled your eyes, realizing that you’ve already arrived at the building for the interview.

“I’m sure you find all this amusing. But I am not amused at all. Last time I had an interview with that... bastard, everyone thought we were dating and started shipping us.” you recoil at the thought. “I would never date someone like him.”

“Oh y/n, lighten up! You know there will always be rumors of all kinds. The dating rumors are the least harmful ones, trust me. Just act like you’re besties with Hyunjin, for an hour tops.”

You take a deep breath in, then sigh.

“I am a professional. I will do this right.” you nod with a determined tone as Ana bumped her fist with yours.

“That’s the spirit!” your manager smacked your thigh happily as you yelped, making her laugh before she exited the car.

Since you were in the underground parking lot, there was no press around so you walked out of the car freely, going directly to the elevator that would take you to the reception.

Ana pressed the button when you walked in and just as the doors started closing, someone’s combat boot was pushed between the silver doors, stopping them and making them open again.

Your eyes traveled up from the boots, to the tight leather pants and the skimpy tank top revealing a tattoo sleeve, right to the face you hoped you won’t be seeing for at least another ten minutes.

Hyunjin had an obnoxious smirk dancing on his lips as he looked down at you, puffing his chest out like some peacock showing off his feathers and you already wanted to smack the shit out of him.

His manager, Anthony waved at the two of you, ushering him into the elevator.

“Good morning y/n, Ana.” Anthony greeted as Hyunjin kept smirking at you.

“It was good until now.” you crossed your arms over your chest.

Even the cologne Hyunjin was wearing made you want to puke your guts out so you stepped away from him.

A chuckle escaped his lips as he leaned on the wall casually, never taking his eyes off of you.

“Aw, you throwing a tantrum already baby?” he smirked at you and you started fuming.

Both of your managers rolled their eyes, Ana muttering ‘here we go again’ as she shook her head.

“I see you have a new piercing on your face. You needed another hole to let the air out of that empty head?” you said, trying to sound nonchalant and Hyunjin scoffed.

“I’m gonna ignore that comment and focus on the fact that you’re counting my piercings. Observing me, huh?” he looked at you smugly.

“Yeah, cause I have nothing better to do than-”

Ding!

“Alright, break it off kids, were here!” Anthony said, quickly pulling Hyunjin out of the elevator.

“See? I can’t stand him.” you groaned as Ana chuckled.

“You stood up to him pretty well.” Ana winked. “Let's go get some coffee, get you properly awake before the interview.” she gripped your shoulders, shaking you a little as you groaned in protest.

Thankfully, Hyunjin had disappeared somewhere and you were glad he wasn’t around to annoy you, as you made small talk with a few of the staff you knew there since you’ve already been interviewed for the same channel before.

“Ana, I’m gonna go get some air before we start.” you felt the nerves creeping up inside you.

“Okay, but you have to be back in five minutes.” she reminded you and you gave her a thumbs up, before practically sprinting down the hall to get to the little terrace hidden on the side.

Staff used it for smoke breaks, and you decided to use it to calm your anxiety down.

You flung the door open and stepped out onto the balcony, quickly taking a deep breath in while you looked down at the city before you.

“Needed to see me once more before the interview?” a voice rang out to the left of you.

Hyunjin’s voice.

Of course the bastard is here, you thought, your face becoming hot in annoyance.

“I had no idea you were here, asshole.” you turned to look at him.

He was leaning on the railing, flexing his muscles, a long vein protruding under the layer of the swirling colorful flowers inked into his skin, leading all the way to his long fingers with chipped nail polish and a cigarette pinched between his thumb and index finger.

He looked at you intently through his bangs that were haphazardly falling into his eyes, his teeth sinking into his bottom lip, before his tongue poked out to play with the piercing adorning it.

“I thought you had more originality when it comes to nicknames, darling.” he said mockingly before taking another drag from his cigarette.

“Don’t call me that.” you turned around to leave but Hyunjin’s long arm quickly blocked your way, his palm splayed on the wall.

You looked up at him and stepped back, just as he puffed the smoke out your way.

“You leaving?” he looked smug again, intrusive thoughts of pushing him off the balcony appeared in your mind.

“Yes, this space is too small and your cologne is nauseating.” your face scrunches up.

“Aw, I’ll make sure to find another one you’d like.” Hyunjin smirks.

“Don’t bother.” you ducked under his arm and opened the door, walking away as fast as you could.

At least he helped in a way, you weren’t anxious anymore, just annoyed and waiting for this day to be over.

“Where is Hyunjin, we’re starting in a minute.” Anthony’s brows furrowed while you were ushered towards the room.

“Last I saw him, he was smoking on the balcony.” you shrugged as they sat you down.

The chair where Hyunjin would be sitting was too close for comfort and you wanted so badly to push it away, but you figured it was there because of the camera frame.

“We’re on in 30 seconds!” one of the staff yelled and you rolled your eyes.

Of course he was late, the self-centered bastard. You were sure he was enjoying this, everyone waiting on his highness to arrive, everyone panicking around him as he wears that disgusting smug smirk on his face.

“In 10…9…” the staff started counting down just as the door swung open and a breathless Hyunjin ran into the room, almost tripping over your crossed legs before he sat down on the chair next to you.

After he ran in, one of the girls working there ran in too, quickly taking her place with rosy cheeks and her lipgloss smeared.

You rolled your eyes and looked at him, the glitter from the girl’s lipgloss was visibly shining on his lips and chin.

“You have a little something.” you said and he smirked, wiping his chin off before leaning towards you.

“My lips were dry.” he whispered with a wink.

You were more than ready to get this over with, seething with anger at his unprofessional behavior that you didn’t even notice the camera began rolling.

“... today’s special guests are y/n of Venus Flytrap and Hyunjin of Lycoris Radiata! I hope y’all are as excited as I am, since it’s been so long. Y/n, let’s start with you. You have a new album coming out soon, can we get a little sneak peek of that?” the interviewer, Sarah, asked as you adjusted on your chair.

“This is our third album now, and this time Steph and Janey participated in the writing more than before, so the songs are really personal to all three of us.”

“Are we finally gonna hear about their love story?” Sarah wiggled her eyebrows.

“We may.” you smirked at her, not wanting to reveal too much.

“How about yours?” she added on, in the corner of your eye you saw Hyunjin leaning towards you as he stared at you, manspreading like always, his knee knocking into yours.

“Huh?”

“Your love story. Is there a special guy or girl in your life?” the interviewer asked, making you feel annoyed instantly.

You hated being asked questions like that, sometimes it felt like the music you were writing didn’t even matter, all people wanted to know was who you’re fucking.

“Not at the moment, no.” you forced a smile so you don’t seem rude.

“I thought I was special.” Hyunjin chimed in next to you, bumping his shoulder against yours, that shit eating grin you hate spreading on his face.

Before you could answer, Sarah butted in.

“Oh, is there something happening between you that we should know about?”

You could just hear the excitement in her voice, the hunger for drama dripping from her lips.

“Nothing is happening, we just like to joke around like that.” you quickly answered, hoping to deflect her to another question, or that she’d finally talk to Hyunjin and ask him about his new song, so you could take a few moments to breathe.

“So, you two are close?”

Oh no.

Here it goes again.

Last time this happened, your name got dragged on every social media platform.

People who were shipping the two of you got on your nerves, but that wasn’t the biggest problem.

No, it was the people who had sent you hate and death threats, telling you if they saw you next to Hyunjin again you’d be dead.

It took a toll on your mental health and scared you since you know people can easily find an address or stalk you somewhere and you wanted to avoid any rumors that would endanger your well-being.

“We're just coworkers.” to your surprise Hyunjin answered nonchalantly, saying exactly what you wanted to say so people would leave you alone.

Why was there a weird feeling in your chest then?

“Well, sometimes there’s passion at the workplace.” Sarah wasn’t giving it up and you were close to losing your temper and telling her to shove it already, ask some less invasive questions.

“No passion here, our relationship is strictly professional.” you said, but your skin burned where Hyunjin’s thigh pressed against yours.

In your mind you were cursing both him and Sarah, and even your manager for bringing you here.

Thankfully, she left it at that, continuing with questions about your upcoming tour and Hyunjin’s new song.

As soon as the interview finished and you were done shaking hands, Ana came to you, her hand on your shoulder as she squeezed.

In the corner of your eye, you saw Hyunjin slip out of the room.

“Good job.” she smiled as Anthony joined the two of you.

“I hope you’re hungry, y/n. This time it’s my treat, and there’s this restaurant…”

You tuned Anthony out, completely forgetting that after an interview like this, the tradition is to have dinner with Hyunjin and his manager.

“Can we skip dinner this time? I just wanna go home and lay down.”

“Nonsense, I hear your stomach growling from here. Come on, it’s free food you can’t say no.” Anthony made a goofy face, hoping to win you over.

“Fine, you had me at free food.” you sighed as Ana nodded with a smile.

“Good! Now where is our other rockstar?” he quickly looked around. “I swear, sometimes I feel like I’m a babysitter, not a manager.”

“I’ll go find him.” you offered, wanting to leave the building as soon as possible.

“Sure.” Ana nodded and you made your way down the hall.

Your footsteps echoed in the empty space, until you came closer to a corner where the sounds of hushed voices and giggles filled up your ears and made you roll your eyes.

“You know I can’t give you my number, baby. But if there is an empty room around here somewhere…” Hyunjin was talking to the girl from earlier, leaning over her body as she stared up at him like he was a god, her back against the wall.

You cleared your throat, crossing your arms on your chest.

Both of them looked up at you, Hyunjin giving you a smirk as he straightened up and the girl glared at you but you didn’t give a shit.

“We need to leave right now. Our managers are waiting for us.” you said simply as the girl whined.

“Shh, maybe some other time.” he shushed her, leaning towards her and your stomach flipped in disgust.

He didn’t kiss her, just taunted her before he leaned back and made his way towards you.

“Cockblocker.” he stuck his tongue out, the piercing adorning it catching the light for a moment.

“Do you even know her name?” you asked, keeping a fast pace and a good distance away from him.

“No. Does it matter?” he shrugged, his long legs quickly catching up to you in big strides.

“You’re despicable.” your face scrunched up in disgust as you neared the elevator where your managers were waiting and chatting.

“Throwing some big words around. You sure you know the meaning?” he smirked.

“That’s it.” you said angrily.

“What? You just basically told me I deserve to be hated just cause I wanted to have some fun.”

You looked at him, full on ready to slap him across his face but Ana stepped between the two of you.

“Fighting again? Can the two of you behave for just one evening?” Anthony frowned with a sigh as he called the elevator.

“I can behave.” Hyunjin clicked his tongue cheekily before playing with his lip ring again.

“Y/n?” Ana looked at you.

“As long as he doesn’t talk to me, I’ll be fine.” you turned away from Hyunjin, stepping into the elevator.

This is going to be one awkward dinner.

Choosing to disconnect in the van you put your earphones in, ignoring Hyunjin’s presence right next to you.

It’s like your managers wanted to have you two as close as possible, like they thought it’d make you hate each other less but at this moment there was nothing more you wanted than to get away from him.

Or maybe your managers wanted to be closer to each other, you smirked to yourself as Ana twirled her hair around her finger, giggling at something Anthony said.

You leaned back as the music flooded your ears, your figure slightly turned towards the window as you watched the street lights pass you by, totally unaware of a pair of eyes that were glued to you.

Hyunjin observed you in detail, how shiny your hair was as it cascaded down your back and shoulders, how your brows were slightly creased and your lips pouty as you listened to your music, the steady rise and fall of your chest, the way your fingers played with the hem of your shirt as you pulled on it, how pretty the rings adorning your fingers were, how the necklace you always wore laid gently on your collarbone.

No little detail was skipped as he drinked it all in, thinking you wouldn’t notice.

But after some time as it got even darker outside, you caught Hyunjin’s reflection in the window as he stared at you with a look on his face that you’ve never seen before.

Your stomach suddenly swirled as the two of you made eye contact on the glass, Hyunjin’s plump lips falling open before he sat up and looked away, acting like nothing happened.

The rest of the ride was uneventful and you were tired of this day, having to look at Hyunjin was more exhausting to you than being on stage.

You couldn’t wait to get into your bed and disappear.

As you walked into the restaurant, you were led to a table and you could see a few people whispering and pointing at you but usually they didn’t bother you much.

However, this time was different.

As you scanned the menu, a girl timidly approached your table and you looked up at her as she stood next to Hyunjin.

“I’m - I’m sorry to bother you but I’m a really big fan and I was wondering if you’d take a picture with me?” she asked Hyunjin who immediately smirked at her.

“No pictures allowed. But you can get his signature.” Anthony chimed in.

“And who the fuck are you?” the girl changed her demeanor right away, making Hyunjin chuckle.

“Easy there, sweetheart, that’s my boss.” he wiggled his eyebrows at the girl. “Come on I’ll give you a sign and you can write me your number, maybe I’ll call you, hm?” Hyunjin winked at her and you just about lost your appetite completely.

“Oh, sure, I’d love that!” she let out a nasally laugh as he signed a napkin with a pen she somehow produced, giving it back to her as she leaned over to write her number down, making sure her tits were right in his face before she skipped back to her friends.

“Can there be at least one minute when you’re not trying to fuck something that walks?” you looked at him annoyingly and he laughed.

“Thought you weren’t talking to me.” he smirked.

“Ugh, you’re so annoying!” you were ready to smack him with the menu in your hand but Ana caught your wrist.

“I bet you love that about me.” he kept smirking.

“Love is nothing near what I feel about you.” you said, your teeth gritted.

“There’s a fine line between love and hate, you know.” Hyunjin smirked, leaning into your personal space.

“Anyways, guys. What are you ordering? Their steak is really good.” Anthony gave an awkward smile as he looked around the table.

“I want the tomato pasta.” Hyunjin leaned back, making you cackle.

“Isn’t that the kids menu? Makes sense for you somehow.”

“I’m saving room for dessert.” he winked at you, his tongue running over his lip tentatively, the piercing on it catching the light again.

“Ew.” you jolted in disgust as he laughed loudly, obviously finding enjoyment in ticking you off.

The dinner part of the outing was uneventful as everyone ate and made small talk but you didn’t miss how Hyunjin crumpled up the napkin with the fan’s number and threw it aside on the table, not caring about it.

What an asshole.

“Let’s make a little toast to this evening and the upcoming albums and tour.” Ana proposed as she lifted her glass up.

“To us.” Hyunjin smirked as he looked at you.

“To rock’n’roll!” you added as the four of you clinked your glasses together before taking a big swig of your drinks.

Hyunjin didn’t look at you on the drive home.

Rehearsal was supposed to start at 9am sharp, but you were there bright and early, tuning your guitar.

Being an early bird, you loved the few moments of peace you could have to yourself, just you and your music.

Your hand glided easily on the guitar’s neck, taking shapes familiar to your hands, it was muscle memory by now, your fingers picking on the strings and creating the melody you played countless times before.

You let your voice ring out in the space freely as you sang a song dear to your heart, one you wrote when you were younger.

You’d always start warming up by singing it to yourself, never having the need to actually put it out into the world.

You got into it, your eyes closed as you sang with a small smile on your face, the entire world around you disappearing shortly.

In the distance, you heard footsteps and voices belonging to your bandmates and just as you opened your eyes, you looked through the glass on the door, a shadow slithered across the wall outside, disappearing around the corner.

You squinted your eyes and stood up, putting your guitar aside and coming closer to the door.

Just as you were about to reach towards the doorknob, the voices got louder.

“Are we seriously doing this right now?” Janey asked, the tone of her voice angry.

“I’m telling you, it was nothing! I don’t know who she is and why she’s texting me!” Steph defended herself as Janey scoffed.

“I’m sick of your excuses. I’m gonna give you one last chance to make it up to me and be truthful, but after that I’m done.” you stepped back as Janey came into view, opening the door angrily.

“Oh, y/n.” she widened her eyes slightly. “Good morning.” she added, scurrying past you to take her place behind the drum kit.

Steph walked in with a scowl on her face, muttering a ‘morning’ before going straight to her bass guitar.

It wasn’t the first time they fought or even broke up.

There were many times you had to be the mediator between them, trying to get them to communicate and even though it was frustrating, you didn’t want them to give up on their relationship easily and you couldn’t really take sides since they were both your friends.

“Shall we?” you asked and they nodded.

It took some warming up as always but soon you got into the groove, rehearsing for a small performance that was happening tonight.

You were excited because during the performance you planned to reveal your new song and see how people like it in person.

The only thorn in your eye was the fact that Hyunjin’s band will be there too, performing right after yours.

You were dreading to see him again, since that interview last week you had managed to avoid him skilfully, but you couldn’t hide forever.

And even though your rehearsal went somewhat smoothly, there was tension in the air and you didn’t like that feeling.

It felt like a storm was coming and you weren’t sure if you’re ready to take it on.

Evening came around quickly, everyone was already gathered backstage and you were dressed and ready, having rehearsed once more on the stage, tuning your guitars and getting ready for the most fun part.

You peered from the back, seeing all the people gathering made your heart swell, a smile spreading on your face automatically.

“Quite a turn out, huh?”

Your eye literally twitched when you heard Hyunjin’s voice behind you, too close for comfort as his figure loomed over you and you felt the warmth of his body on your back.

You turned your head slightly as he peered down at you with that annoying smirk you absolutely hate.

“Of course.” you said, squeezing your body between him and the curtain, ignoring him calling after you as you walked away as fast as you could.

You’re not gonna let him ruin tonight for you.

It was time to go on stage anyways.

You and your girls did a little cheer as tradition before the performance, Ana coming up to hug you and wish you good luck.

“Break a leg.” Hyunjin appeared out of nowhere and you only rolled your eyes before whipping around and almost smacking him with your hair as you made your way towards the stage.

As soon as you walked out, loud screams filled up your ears and everything negative was forgotten and locked away in a drawer in the back of your mind.

“Are you ready to rock tonight?!” you screamed out into the mic as the three of you took your positions.

Hyunjin watched you from the side with an unreadable look on his face, but you weren’t even aware of it and you didn’t care.

All you cared about was this moment.

The moment where you get to share your love for music with thousands of people.

It was exhilarating, watching the mass of bodies sway like one, hearing all the people singing the lyrics you wrote in unison.

Nothing could compare to this and every time you stood under that light, you knew you were born for this.

Giddy from everything, you skipped backstage once you finished playing the last song; which happened to be the new one and people more than loved it judging by their excited screams.

“That was amazing!” Ana met you halfway, giving high fives to all three of you.

You were still trying to catch your breath as you giggled, when Hyunjin appeared next to you again.

“Aren’t you gonna wish me good luck?” he smirked at you, shamelessly giving you the elevator eyes.

“Good luck guys!” Janey yelled at all four members with a smile and a thumbs up but Hyunjin shook his head.

“I want her to say it or I’m not going out on stage.” he crossed his arms on his chest, pouting and tapping his foot like a child about to throw a tantrum.

“Come on, Hyun, we need to get out there!” Aiden, the band’s bassist called out.

“Not moving until y/n wishes me good luck.” he quickly shook his head, his fluffy hair shaking with it and you thought how he resembled a dog; in more ways than one.

“Fine you spoiled brat. Good luck.” you said sarcastically and he scoffed.

“That wasn’t so hard, was it?” he smirked, leaning into your personal space again.

“Get on the stage, Hyunjin.” you sighed and he chuckled in delight.

“Watch me closely.” he winked before running off.

“I can just cut the tension in the air with a knife.” Steph smirked at you, wiggling her eyebrows.

“Oh, fuck off!” you said, smacking the back of her head as she cackled.

You did end up watching Hyunjin’s band perform after refreshing yourself, but pretty soon you’ve come to regret that decision.

He was wild while performing, stripping out of his jacket as he screamed into the mic, sweating under the bright lights pointed directly at him making him look like an insane glazed donut as he strutted around the stage acting all smug even though he tripped over his dumb long legs multiple times.

He’d lean over towards his little groupies, holding their hand or caressing their faces, blowing them kisses and whatnot, all of that behavior making your gut churn in disgust.

The last straw was when he laid down on his back and started humping the air while moaning into the mic.

Even though the crowd screamed louder than before and the horny fans almost started hyperventilating, you felt second hand embarrassment at witnessing this.

Hyunjin continued moaning before he threw his head back, his eyes locking with yours.

A shiver ran down your spine as he smirked at you, all sweaty, his hair sticking to his forehead, his piercings shining in the light, the veins on his neck visible and his cheeks red.

A warmness spread in your navel as he winked, licking at his lip slowly, taunting you before he moaned extra loudly, the pornographic sound echoing in your ears.

You frowned suddenly at your heart beating fast and your legs pressing together.

What the fuck is wrong with me?, you thought, quickly shaking your head as he finally looked away from you and stood up.

Of course, he got showered by multiple bras on stage, you think you even caught a glimpse of someone throwing their panties and you couldn’t watch anymore.

It was truly disgusting.

You quickly shoved past some staff members watching and gasping at whatever Hyunjin was doing now.

Pushing past everyone, you made your way outside to get some fresh air in the hidden area behind backstage, where staff and musicians usually smoked or chilled after a performance.

You greeted some of the staff before finding a spot where you could be alone.

You were about to relax when you heard kissing sounds and as you turned to look around the corner you saw Steph kissing some random girl.

You couldn’t contain the gasp that flew out of your mouth, making them jolt away from each other.

Steph’s eyes widened when she saw you and you quickly spun around, noticing Janey had just walked outside too and started looking around.

“Y/n, wait!” Steph yelled behind you. “It’s not what you think! Please, don’t tell Janey!” she looked at you desperately but you hated cheaters more than anything, seeing her betrayal with your own eyes broke any sort of connection you had with her.

“Isn’t it? Your tongue was down some girl’s throat. Now, what do you call that?” you scoffed.

“What?” Janey appeared next to you, just as the girl who Steph was kissing before stood behind her.

“It’s not like that, I-”

You could see Janey’s eyes filling up with tears.

“That’s it, I’m done. With you and with the band. With everything.” you gasped when she said that, your eyes wide.

“Janey, don’t be like that, it didn’t mean anything to me-” Steph started.

“Liar, you told me you’d leave her for me.” the girl behind Steph chimed in.

“Oh, so this has been going on for some time?” Janey looked between Steph and the girl.

“Let’s talk about this inside.” you tried to lead them in as people were whispering and looking at the four of you.

“I have nothing else to say. I’m sorry, y/n. I can’t be a part of this band anymore when all it’s gonna do is remind me of this cheating whore.” Janey spat before turning around and leaving.

“Okay, I deserve that but like I’m sorry that-”

“Save it, Steph. I can’t believe you did this. You put your desires over the well-being of our band. You do understand that your actions not only affect Janey, but also me, Ana and the rest of the record company?” you asked her, your blood boiling with anger.

“I- I’m sorry, let me make it right. I’ll talk to Janey and she’ll forgive me once she understands-”

“You think I want you to be part of the band after this? That’s rich.” you turned around too, in hopes of finding Janey.

“Y/n, you can’t throw me out of the band!” Steph yelled behind you.

“I just did.” you said coldly before opening the door and rushing into the backstage room.

“Is Janey here?” you asked Ana and before she could answer, someone bumped into you rather strongly, making you stumble backwards a little.

You turned around angrily, noticing a very sweaty and breathless Hyunjin staring at you with a smile, his tongue lolling out of his lips as he played with his piercing.

“So, did you like my performance?” he winked at you. “Did it get you excited?” the famous shit eating grin spread on his face as he leaned in closer to you, a few droplets of sweat dripping from his hair.

“I don’t have time for your games, Hyunjin. Please leave me alone.” you said annoyingly, noticing he had a bra hooked around his hand.

“What’s going on?” Ana asked, looking at you confusedly.

You were shaken up, the anger you felt manifesting into tears and you cursed yourself for being so emotional and quick to cry.

“Woah, you’re crying!” Hyunjin stepped even closer to you but you’ve had enough of him.

“Get away from me, asshole!” you channeled all your anger his way as you pressed your hands on his chest, pushing him away.

Hyunjin stumbled with a gasp, a shocked look on his face.

“What the hell is happening here?” Anthony quickly came to Hyunjin’s side as his bandmates watched everything unfold.

“Ana, can we talk in private?” you glared once more at Hyunjin and she quickly nodded, hooking her arm with yours and taking you away from the scene.

Hyunjin watched your figure disappear out of view with a deep frown on his face.

It’s been a dreadful week.

You’ve tried talking to Janey multiple times, begging her to come back, promising to her that you wouldn’t let Steph come anywhere near her.

Sadly, Janey was insistent on not wanting to continue with the band since lots of the songs were written by her and her now ex girlfriend who betrayed her in such an ugly way.

You talked to Ana almost every day on the phone but you weren’t up for any visits, choosing instead to wallow in your sadness.

Your band fell apart, your friends were no longer together, your album couldn’t be published and people were speculating, spreading rumors, you were getting numerous curious comments asking what happened to Venus Flytrap.

You had no idea what to do at that moment.

You just needed some time to yourself to figure out what your next step should be.

You were lounging in your bed when your phone buzzed for the hundredth time.

Rolling your eyes, you grabbed it and saw that you had a text message from an unknown number.

???: hey there pretty girl! don’t be so sad! there are worse things than your band falling apart.

you: what, like death? and who is this?

???: your favorite person in the whole world<3

you: hyunjin??

???: aw i knew i was your favorite!

You started seething immediately as you sat up, your heart beating fast instantly as you worked yourself up into annoyance.

You quickly put his contact under ‘asshole’.

you: no, i knew that a conceited answer like that can only come from an asshole like you.

you: now, what do you want?

asshole: did you save my contact as asshole? or dickhead? which one is it?

you: wouldn’t you like to know. seriously what the hell do you want. i’ll block you if you don’t get on with it

asshole: just wanted to see if you maybe want to talk to someone

you: if i did, i wouldn’t choose you. have a nice day away from me hyunjin

Hyunjin didn’t answer your last text, instead he left you on read and you tossed your phone across your bed, now feeling even more infuriated than before.

You squinted your eyes, grabbing your phone again and texting Ana.

you: did you give my number to hyunjin??

Ana: i’m sorry! he wouldn’t stop bugging me about it! pls don’t be mad

Just great.

Why is he insisting on annoying you even when you feel down in the dumps, you thought, he always has to come in and make you feel even more mad.

You were hoping that with your last text he’d finally leave you alone.

You also hoped you wouldn’t be seeing him any time soon.

But boy, you couldn’t be more wrong.

“What?!” you yelled so loudly that it echoed off of the office walls.

“Y/n, please we don’t know any other solution. Lycoris Radiata is going to tour in 4 days and you’re the only person who knows their songs by heart. You can also kick ass with drums. And well, you’re kinda free now.” Anthony grimaced.

“You can’t do this to me. I can’t spend so much time with Hwang Hyunjin!” you whined like a child, kicking your legs under the table as Ana gave you an apologetic look.

“Gossiping about me?” Hyunjin strolled in, with that annoying smirk, his hair in a little ponytail, showing more of his ear piercings and his sharp jawline.

He took off his leather jacket, throwing it haphazardly on the chair before he plopped down into it.

He spun around in the chair to face you as you looked at him with a scowl on your face.

Brendon, his guitarist and Aiden joined the meeting right after that.

“So, ready to be my new drummer?” Hyunjin wiggled his eyebrows at you.

“Not a chance in hell.”

“Y/n, please, we have no other choice! Phil had to leave so suddenly due to his sickness. We couldn’t be prepared for something like that. We can’t afford to postpone the tour now.” Brendon pleaded as Aiden nodded next to him.

You leaned back into the chair, pursing your lips as you gave it a thought.

Of course they’d choose you.

You knew their songs by heart since you shared so many tours together but you had your own bus and mostly ran into Hyunjin either backstage or at an afterparty but if you would become a part of his band you’d spend most of your time with him.

But this could be good for you to give yourself time to decide what you wanna do next while touring with Lycoris Radiata.

And since you were a multi instrumentalist, playing the drums wouldn’t be a problem for you.

You smirked suddenly before tilting your head at Hyunjin.

“Fine. I will tour with you under one condition.” you said.

“Anything!” Anthony piped in but you kept staring at Hyunjin.

“I want you to beg.” your smirk deepened and Hyunjin’s eyes widened slightly, his fingers twitching against his thighs.

“What?” he blinked repeatedly and you chuckled under your breath.

“Beg me to join your band or I’m not doing it.”

Hyunjin’s lips opened and closed a few times before he frowned.

“I don’t beg. I demand.” he smirked, taunting you.

“Well, in case you haven’t noticed, you’re in no position to have demands. However, I am. So if I want you to beg, Hyunjin, you’re gonna beg.” you sat up straight as he looked at you in pure shock.

“My, my darling. I didn’t know you were this commanding. I kinda dig that.” he wiggled his eyebrows.

“Any day now.” you were ready to stand up and leave.

The room was eerily silent and Brendon opened his lips to speak up but Anthony grabbed his wrist and quickly shook his head.

You could see the gears turning in Hyunjin’s head as he stared at you, and slowly but surely his cheeks became red as he closed his eyes in frustration.

“Pretty please, join my band and come on tour with us?” he said, rather quickly and you tsked.

“Not convincing enough.” you enjoyed having the upper hand, the roles reversed as you pushed Hyunjin’s buttons.

“What do you want me to do?! Kneel at your feet?” he whined.

“Maybe.” you shrugged.

“Unbelievable! I’m the one doing you a favor anyways.” Hyunjin said, clearly annoyed and you were reveling in it.

You wanted him to get the taste of his own medicine.

“Is that so?” you raised your eyebrow as he breathed hard.

“Yes, your band is as good as dead right now, just like your career.” he said with a smug smirk, making everyone gasp.

“Hyunjin!” Aiden scolded him and you stood up, feeling your eyes water as you lifted your hand, your palm colliding with Hyunjin’s cheek.

The force of your slap turned his head right and he grabbed at his cheek immediately, his eyes wide, his face becoming red quickly.

“Fuck you!” you said angrily before turning around and leaving the room as tears started sliding down your cheeks.

“Now look at what you did!” Anthony was mad and Hyunjin shrugged with a frown, realizing quickly that maybe he did cross a line.

“How could you say something like that to y/n?” Brendon asked, and Hyunjin looked at them, feeling dejected suddenly as he rubbed at his cheek.

There was strength in your hands, that he was sure of.

“I fucked up, okay! I didn’t mean to say that.” he shook his head. “I will make this right.” Hyunjin added, standing up.

“Dude, I think you’re the last person y/n wants to see right now.” Aiden said.

“But I have to apologize to her.” Hyunjin chewed on his lip, playing with his piercing as a nervous habit.

“I’ll go with you then.” Aiden nodded, standing up as well.

“Fine.” Hyunjin sighed.

You sat in the swinging chair on one of the many balconies of the building, letting your tears slip down your cheeks as the wind picked up, making you shiver.

Hyunjin and Aiden found you pretty quickly and before Aiden could follow him to the balcony, Hyunjin smacked his hand on Aiden’s chest.

“Please, just wait here.”

“Fine, but if you provoke her again, I’m coming in.” Aiden sighed, shaking his head.

The door of the balcony opened and in the corner of your eye you saw Hyunjin’s combat boots and his leather pants.

“Go away.” you said quietly, sniffling and turning away from him.

Hyunjin stood frozen for a moment, holding his jacket in his hand and you took that time to quickly wipe away your tears.

You didn’t want to look weak in front of your enemy.

Footsteps approached and suddenly you felt a weight on your shoulders and back.

You looked down, realizing that Hyunjin had put his jacket around you and it smelled like cigarettes mixed with cologne he always wears and something distinctly him.

You took a deep breath and for some reason, calmness settled all over your body.

“I’m really sorry for what I said back there. It was way out of line.”

You didn’t say anything, still refusing to look at him.

“And I’m sorry about your band. I know that must be hard to go through. I feel bad that my drummer had to leave, I don’t know how I’d feel if-”

“Are you done?” you turned to look at him and his lips pressed together.

“I don’t care how you feel, Hyunjin. Just like you didn’t care about hurting me moments ago.” you stood up, ready to throw his jacket away.

“Well, I apologized!” he threw his hands up, rolling his eyes. “Though, I’m glad I have that effect on you, I didn’t know you cared so much about what I think or say.” he smirked suddenly.

You were tempted to slap his other cheek at that moment, and Aiden must’ve sensed it so he walked out to the balcony.

“Are we okay?” he asked, gulping.

“Not until he apologizes properly.” you crossed your arms with a smirk, and he knew exactly what you meant.

“Ugh! This is the first and last time I get on my knees for you.” Hyunjin said annoyingly as he kneeled down and you chuckled in delight.

“I’m sorry for being an asshole and if you could find it in your heart to forgive me, I’d be honored for you to join my band.” he batted his eyelashes at you.

“Mm…” you pursed your lips, acting like you were contemplating it as he rolled his eyes again.

“Fine. I accept.” you shrugged and Hyunjin stood up quickly with a smile.

“Welcome to the band, sweetheart!” he smirked, opening his arms for a hug and you quickly dodged under his arm and slithered away.

“You’re welcome.” you smirked back, grabbing his jacket and throwing it at him.

He caught it just as you walked back into the hallway, grinning to himself as you walked away.

“She wants me so bad.” Hyunjin said as Aiden’s eyebrows lifted comically.

“I think she wants to kill you.” he said and Hyunjin chuckled, smacking Aiden’s shoulder and grabbing him.

“I know what chicks like, okay?”

“You also know that y/n isn’t one of your little groupies?” Aiden sighed.

“I know, don’t worry. She’s special.” Hyunjin smiled, hugging his jacket to his chest, getting a whiff of your perfume that stayed on it.

Aiden shook his head with a chuckle.

This is gonna be one hell of a tour.

The party was in full swing.

That morning you had packed for the tour, your stomach swirling with nerves so much that you thought you’d throw up.

You were actually going on tour with Lycoris Radiata, for at least six months.

A lot can happen in that amount of time and while you were nervous to spend so much time with the infuriating and annoying asshole aka Hwang Hyunjin, you were also excited for the new experience and the places you’ll get to see.

Of course, you couldn’t leave without attending a ‘have an amazing tour’ party that was mostly exclusive only for staff and a few other people.

You were on your second glass of beer as you sat at the bar, the cold bitter liquid not calming you down as it should.

Hyunjin was having a jolly old time, entertaining some girls of course and if you had rolled your eyes any harder, they’d get stuck in the back of your head.

“Don’t take that to heart.” Aiden suddenly appeared next to you.

“What?” you chuckled awkwardly, shaking away your thoughts.

“Hyunjin flirting like that. He’s a lot of talk, more than anything else.”

“Why would I care if he flirts with some random girls?” you frowned. “It’s none of my business.”

“Right.” Aiden pursed his lips. “Well, I’m gonna go find Anthony.”

“Sure.” you shrugged, your eyes flying back to Hyunjin and the girls who were salivating all over him.

He was showing them his biceps and they were touching him like they’ve never seen a human arm in their life.

You scoffed, shaking your head when a voice behind you startled you.

“Now, why is a pretty lady such as yourself sitting all alone?”

You turned around with your eyebrow lifted, coming face to face with a stranger.

“Because it’s her choice.” you answered.

“Oh, feisty and pretty? That’s a fun combo.” the guy smirked, his arm leaning on your chair, almost hugging your waist as he got closer to you.

Your nose scrunched up, he smelled of alcohol and you really wanted him to leave you alone.

“I’m pretty boring, trust me.” you said.

“Oh, I don’t believe that. In fact, I think if you were to let me take you home tonight, you and I could have so much fun.” he smirked and you were pretty sure you barfed in your mouth a little.

“No, thank you.” you said sarcastically.

He chuckled, placing his arms around you.

You were completely unaware of Hyunjin who was keeping an eye on you and the suspicious guy.

As soon as the man placed his hands on you, Hyunjin pushed the girl he was talking to aside, his heavy combat boots taking him right to you and the disturbance in your personal space.

“I don’t really take no for an answer.” he said and your heart sank momentarily.

“Back off man!” you tried to push him away but he wasn’t budging.

Suddenly the guy was ripped away from you with such force that it pulled you to your feet.

You grabbed at the bar to steady yourself and gasped just in time to see Hyunjin swinging his fist at the man.

“Oh my god!” you almost screamed, your eyes wide as the guy fell to the floor instantly.

People quickly gathered around and Anthony was trying to push them away so he could grab Hyunjin.

“The lady said no, you fucking dirtbag!” Hyunjin said, swinging at the man again.

“Oh my god, Hyunjin! Stop, it’s okay, please!” you panicked, never seeing him this angry or violent.

“Hwang! Enough!” Anthony yelled, grabbing Hyunjin’s arms and lifting him up as he fought against his manager, still trying to punch the man who was now laying on the floor with his face completely bloody.

You kept looking at Hyunjin with a shocked expression as he breathed hard, his face red and sweaty from anger, the veins on his neck and forehead popping out.

“I stopped, now let me go.” he said through his teeth as someone lifted up the unconscious guy.

“Hyunjin, if this gets out to the press it could turn into a fucking shitstorm! What the hell is wrong with you?!” Anthony yelled angrily as Hyunjin stood with his fists still clenched.

“He made y/n uncomfortable and he deserved it.” Hyunjin answered before turning towards you.

“Are you okay?” he asked, his eyes softening as you stared at him in disbelief.

“I-I’m fine.”

“Good. I’m done with this party.” Hyunjin said, turning on his heel and grabbing his jacket before he walked out, leaving you standing there still trying to process what the hell just happened.

You were half asleep when Ana drove you to the tour bus.

You barely slept last night, tossing and turning in your bed as the images of Hyunjin punching that guy from the party kept swimming in your head.

Never has a man defended you like that and you’ve never seen Hyunjin look so livid before.

He was usually either smirking, laughing or being a menace, ready to always annoy you but you’ve never seen him actually angry.

It was kind of… hot, you thought before shaking it off.

You wondered why he reacted like that.

“You okay?” Ana snapped you out of your vegetative state as you sank in the passenger seat, arms crossed and hood over your head.

“Hm? Yeah, just sleepy.” you sat up and looked around.

The sun wasn’t even up yet.

“You can continue sleeping on the tour bus. We’re here.” she chuckled.

“Oh, goody.” you sighed before opening the door and walking out.

“Morning, ladies.” Anthony all but ran up to Ana, helping her with yours and her bags since she’d be joining you too.

“Morning? It’s still night.” you checked your phone, seeing it was 4:13am.

“Not where I come from. You see-” Anthony started.

“Okay, I’m too asleep to listen to this.” you shook your head before strolling towards the bus.

You were about to just climb in and go straight to the nearest bed you could find but you heard some quiet music coming from behind the back of the bus.

You approached slowly and peeked around to see Hyunjin leaning on the wall, smoking and listening to some quiet music.

He looked up instantly, seeming like a deer caught in headlights for a short moment.

“Remembered to put on a jacket?” he smirked.

“Ha ha. Very funny.” you said and he shrugged, looking away and turning the music off.

As he brought his cigarette to his lips, you noticed his knuckles were red and injured.

“I guess I should thank you for last night.” you said quietly, swinging on your feet awkwardly as you dug your hands in your pockets.

“It was nothing.” he shook his head quickly.

“I wouldn’t call that nothing.” you motioned to his hand.

“This?” he looked at his hand and chuckled. “You should see the other guy.” he winked at you, making you roll your eyes.

“Clever.”

“Come to think of it, it does hurt a bit. Wanna kiss it better?” Hyunjin smirked, puffing the smoke out.

“Bite me.” you gave him the middle finger as he laughed, the sound ringing out in the quiet early hours.

“I might. If you ask nicely.” he said with that smug expression of his.

“I’m going inside.” you shivered, realizing how cold it actually was, ignoring his witty quips.

“I’m right behind ya.” he threw his cigarette on the floor before stepping on it.

Your heart started beating fast out of nowhere as his heavy boots stomped behind you, the sound escorting you to the entrance of the bus.

“Oh wow.” your eyes widened as you looked around the living/kitchen area.

“You like?” Hyunjin leaned over your shoulder and you jolted away from him, making him snicker.

“Yeah, it’s… not what I expected. It looks more cozy than I thought it would.” you nodded.

“You should thank the interior designer.” he wiggled his eyebrows.

“And who might that be?” you asked, making your way to the bunk bed area.

“Oh, just a guy. He takes payment in kisses.” Hyunjin bumped into you as you stopped.

“Is that guy maybe you?” you turned around, not realizing immediately just how close Hyunjin was to you.

“Maybe it is.” he leaned towards you with a smirk and you squealed a little, stepping away from him.

“Give it up. I’m taking the top bunk bed.” you pointed to the left side.

“Not fair! I always take that one!” Hyunjin pouted.

“Tough luck, I called it first.” you smirked, taking off your jacket and throwing it up on the bed.

“Or… we can both sleep up there?” Hyunjin said and you scoffed, pushing him away.

“Like hell!”

“Are y’all fighting this early?” Brendon came in, looking confused and disheveled.

“No, it’s foreplay.” Hyunjin wiggled his eyebrows and you made gagging noises.

“Here’s your bag, y/n.” Ana appeared with your luggage.

Aiden and Anthony came in after and everyone took some time to unpack and get settled.

“I heard we have two pretty ladies with us, so you fellas gotta behave now.” you heard an unknown voice and leaned over to see who it belonged to.

“Oh, we always behave, Stu.” Hyunjin smirked.

“Yes, especially you.” the man, Stu, rolled his eyes.

“This is our main driver Stu.” Aiden introduced you and Ana to him.

“Pleasure to meet you ladies. Hopefully the road won’t be too bumpy.” he winked before turning around and leaving.

“Where is Bradley?” Anthony piped in suddenly.

“Who’s Bradley?” you asked, at this moment you just wanted to get everything over with and catch up on some sleep.

“Our sound guy.” Brendon answered. “And lights guy. He is underpaid and overworked, basically.” he added, giving Anthony a pointed look.

“Hey, it’s not my fault Mike quit!” he lifted his hands up. “Besides, we’re picking someone up in the next town over. He’ll be our roadie along with Bradley.”

As they started discussing, you slipped away to the bathroom, where you could change in peace and get ready for bed.

You leaned on the counter, staring at yourself in the mirror as you listened to the muffled voices talking.

Were you doing the right thing?

Accepting to join another band when your heart still hurts from the sudden falling apart between your friends and band members…

“Y/n, I need the bathroom!” Hyunjin’s voice brought you back to reality and you stood up straight.

“I’m not done yet!” you yelled back. “You have another bathroom!” you added annoyingly, preparing to brush your teeth.

“Aiden hogged it. Are you naked or something? Cause I swear I don’t mind.”

You could just hear the smirk in his voice.

Rolling your eyes, you opened the door and Hyunjin gave you the elevator eyes and they lingered on your legs in the shorts you put on, going up to your chest and lingering again before he looked up at your face.

He was playing with his lip ring again, his cheeks rosy.

“What do you want?” you spat.

“Just wanna brush my teeth.” he looked at you smugly.

You didn’t say anything, just stepped aside and continued brushing your teeth.

You opted to leave the door opened since it felt awkward to have them closed.

“Isn’t this fun, us brushing our teeth together? It’s kinda domestic, don’t you think?” Hyunjin said suddenly, the familiar smirk on his face.

“Yes, thrilling.” you answered sarcastically. “You don’t have to act nice, Hyunjin. Everyone knows we hate each other so let’s just not talk too much and try to coexist peacefully for the sake of everyone else on this tour.”

Hyunjin opened his mouth to answer but you quickly turned around and left, not wanting to get into it with him when you were tired and nervous.

He smirked to himself, shaking his head.

The only thing stuck in his brain at that moment was the way you said his name.

God, he loved it.

You slept for a few hours only, waking up early yet again as the bus rolled to a stop at a diner.

“Rise and shine, princess.” Hyunjin’s head popped up in front of you as he held onto your bed.

“Fuck off.” you grabbed your pillow and smacked him with it, almost making him fall down but he managed to land on his feet.

You heard a smack and Hyunjin saying ‘ow’ quietly before Aiden said,

“Come down if you’re hungry.”

You chuckled to yourself, waiting for them to leave so you could get ready.

Of course, as soon as you sat down in a booth, Hyunjin pushed Brendon aside and quickly slid next to you.

“Oh my god.” you rolled your eyes.

You were squished between him and Ana on your other side, and he was too close for comfort.

You could feel the heat of his body and smell the scent of his shampoo and body wash mixed with cigarettes.

You tried to ignore the feelings stirring in your gut as you ordered.

“So, how did you like sleeping on top of me?” Hyunjin smirked, tilting his head.

“Not as much as you liked sleeping under me, weirdo.” you scoffed at him and he chuckled.

“I liked it very much, so that must mean you liked it at least a little.” he said as the food arrived and your stomach growled.

“Whatever you say.” you brushed him off and started to dig in.

“We’re close to our first destination.” Anthony started after a sip of coffee. “We will arrive around 4pm and have lunch, then we get ready and do the soundcheck. Questions?”

Everyone shook their heads no.

You suddenly felt nervous tingles running up your spine, and for some reason Hyunjin felt it.

“Don’t worry princess, you’ll do great.” he smirked, placing his hand on top of your wrist.

You snatched your hand away and looked at him.

“I know I will, I was just wondering if you’ll be able to keep up with me.” you smirked back at him.

“You’ll be surprised at how well I can keep up, baby.” Hyunjin leaned into your personal space, his eyes boring into yours and you felt your cheeks burning.

“Be nice, you two.” Ana chuckled.

“What? I haven't called him an asshole yet. Emphasis on yet.”

Hyunjin laughed next to you, his arm brushing against yours.

Oh, he is so going to enjoy this.

It was such a good, familiar feeling to sit behind a drum kit after being the main vocalist and guitarist of your band for so long.

The venue was empty at this moment and the sound of the drums echoing in the space was grand.

You closed your eyes and started playing a groove to get into the mood and Hyunjin was lured towards the stage instantly.

He watched you in awe even though he saw you play the drums before, they never had the name of his band on the front of them.

Hyunjin felt proud; that his band has come so far and honored that you were now a part of their story.

He hoped you’d enjoy the tour and judging by the blissful look on your face, you were off to a good start.

“Let’s go, Hyun.” Brendon smacked his shoulder, pulling him back to reality.

It was time for the soundcheck, and when everyone was finally on stage, tuning their instruments, you realized that this is real.

Excitement replaced any nerves you had and you were ready to tear the stage apart.

“Let’s jam a little.” Aiden smiled as everyone agreed.

He started to play a melody on his bass so you followed him with the drums.

You were so focused on grooving that you didn’t notice Hyunjin winking at his two other band members.

When it was time for him to start playing his guitar, Hyunjin decided to play totally out of tune.

You looked up at him with your brows furrowed as you tried to follow him.

He changed it up suddenly, that familiar shit eating grin spreading on his face as you followed him yet again.

Brendon and Aiden stopped playing as they observed the two of you, battling it out with your instruments.

Hyunjin was trying hard to get on your nerves, push your buttons but you weren’t gonna let him in.

“Having some trouble following, princess?” he yelled over the noise.

You looked at him pointedly as he started to play another melody that made no sense and you’ve had enough.

Hyunjin had a way of getting under your skin and he obviously knew that.

Your arm lifted up on its own accord and you swung one of your drumsticks right at Hyunjin, aiming for his empty head.

His eyes widened and he managed to dodge it in a close second as the drumstick clattered on the floor.

“Ha! Attempted murder! Y’all saw that!” he pointed at you, while looking at his friends and you started laughing.

“Don’t worry, even if it did hit your head, it couldn’t damage it more than it already is.” you smirked as Hyunjin huffed.

“Oh baby, keep talking. Degradation is my thing.” he motioned towards his ear with his fingers and you made a disgusted face at him.

Of course, the asshole laughed at your expression.

“Guys, can we actually practice?” Brendon chimed in as Aiden nodded.

Instead of answering verbally, you started playing so everyone joined in.

“Are you nervous?” Aiden asked as the venue filled up and it all became real.

“Nope, I’m ecstatic!” you answered, twirling your drumstick in your hand.

“Trying to murder me once again?” Hyunjin appeared next to you as you almost hit him with it.

“Trust me, if I was trying to kill you, you’d already be dead.”

“Nobody’s killing anyone, we’re already short on staff.” Anthony smirked before putting his arms around Hyunjin and Brendon’s shoulders.

“Good luck guys! And y/n, of course. I know y’all will do great.” Anthony smiled.

Ana came up to you to hug you.

“Good luck, babe!” she smiled.

“Thank you.” you gave her a bone crushing hug, she was always like a sister to you and having her here now meant a lot to you.

As soon as you walked out on stage, the screams of all the people that came to see you perform were deafening but heartwarming.

Hyunjin was the main character on stage, that you were convinced of as whatever he did resulted in even louder screaming.

You didn’t mind being the backbone of the band, playing drums to you was a meditative and transcending experience and anything you were angry or upset about, you could take it out while playing.

Performing with Lycoris Radiata was fun as fuck, even more than you hoped for; seeing Hyunjin up close made you realize just why people loved him so much.

He was charismatic, cool and lame at the same time, ethereally beautiful and down to earth, fun but sensitive, alluring but cute, he gave his all and more.

He was everything wrapped up in one and you wondered how that was possible.

A particular moment struck you; when you were playing a slower song, Hyunjin sang so delicately, his back turned to you as the lights beamed down on his frame, his sweaty hair and skin making him look like he was glowing.

Your heart skipped a beat but you ignored it.

Near the end of the show, Hyunjin did his usual routine which consisted of making everyone’s panties wet; it was time for the sex song he always sang near the end which made you feel embarrassed and uncomfortable but something about being on stage with them got you in the right mood for it.

The part came up; and Hyunjin was on the floor, moaning and humping the air as you followed his moans with the heavy sound of your drums.

Hyunjin smirked, throwing his head back to look at you as he continued his ministrations and you continued following him on the drums.

Aiden and Brendon joined in as Hyunjin became louder, resulting in you hitting the drums harder as the sounds all came together in a crescendo.

You wished that you could press your thighs together to create pressure and friction because the whole thing managed to get you wet too.

A part of you felt ashamed but you didn’t give a flying fuck in that moment, completely letting go of everything as the four of you continued jamming together.

Hyunjin stood up with the biggest smile on his face, winking at you as he ran a lap around the stage before literally diving into the audience.

You gasped to yourself but continued playing the outro to the performance while Hyunjin was being groped by horny fanboys and fangirls.

Security was there to pull him back up on stage safely and Hyunjin sang the end of the song before screaming a ‘thank you’ into the mic.

After all four of you bowed a hundred times, you finally ran backstage where a very sweaty Hyunjin started hugging everyone, eventually coming up to you.

“Don’t even think about it.” you said as he opened his arms.

“Not thinking, just doing it.” he smirked and before you could run away, his arms wrapped around you and he pulled you into his body.

“Ew!” you squirmed against him and he chuckled.

“Don’t pretend you don’t like it.” he held you tighter and your heart leaped out of your chest.

The bastard smelled so good even after sweating so much and it annoyed you how seemingly perfect he was.

“What, a gross sweaty man slobbering all over me?” you scrunched up your face as you finally pushed him away.

“I wasn’t slobbering but if you’re into that-”

“Please shut up while I’m still in a good mood.” you stopped him and he laughed.

“It’s so fun messing with you, darling.” Hyunjin ruffled your hair as you practically hissed at him, making him laugh again.

“You guys were fucking amazing!” Anthony yelled excitedly.

“I don’t know about you but I need some food.” Aiden piped in.

“I’m feeling thirsty, honestly.” Brendon added.

“Are we partying or what?” Hyunjin smirked, wiggling his eyebrows.

“Hell yeah, we are!” Anthony high-fived him.

You ended up having the afterparty in the bus, ordering some food and acquiring some beer as you sat around in the living space.

Of course, as soon as you walked in, you ran for the shower, with Hyunjin cascading behind you and asking if he could join you because “it’ll be done faster”.

“Dream about it, asshole!” you yelled before closing the bathroom door.

“Oh, I do.” Hyunjin smirked to himself, but you didn’t hear him.

The excitement of the performance slowly washed away from your body along with Hyunjin’s scent that lingered after he hugged you, and you felt happy and cozy.

All of you finally settled down to eat and Hyunjin claimed the spot next to you, of course, his long slender fingers stealing your fries constantly.

“Will you back off! You have your own fries.” you slapped his arm as he whined.

“Yours are tastier.” he claimed with that familiar smirk of his.

“Are they now?” you smirked back.

“Mhm.” he nodded pointedly.

“Let’s see then.” you grabbed your box and dumped all your fries into his box before mixing them up. “Pick one up and distinguish if it’s from your box or mine.”

Hyunjin stared at you with his lips parted before he smiled.

“Aw, we’re sharing.” he said and continued eating as you heard some chuckles around the table.

“For fucks sake.” you muttered, shaking your head.

The rest of the night was full of chatter and laughter, and you didn’t mind Hyunjin’s arm or leg brushing against you ever so often, or his loud laughter ringing in your ears or him constantly poking at you.

It’s barely been one day on tour and he wasn’t as unbearable as you thought he’d be.

Everyone was tired and you had to hit the road so it was finally peaceful, before a loud scream startled everyone.

“Oh no, I am going to die!” Hyunjin wailed dramatically.

“What’s wrong with him?” you rolled your eyes as Aiden came in.

“He lost his teddy bear.”

“He what?” you chuckled in disbelief.

“Hyunjin’s teddy, he always takes it with him. He’s had it since he was a baby and he’s convinced it brings him luck.” Aiden shrugged and Hyunjin ran into the living area.

“We are doomed!” he said, grabbing your arms and shaking you.

“Calm down, it must be around here somewhere.” you sighed.

“Help me look?” Hyunjin batted his eyelashes at you as Aiden slipped away.

“Hyunjin, I’m tired, I need to get some sleep.” you whined.

“Me too! But I can’t sleep without my teddy.” he said, you couldn’t believe he was serious. “I will crawl up to your bunk and annoy you all night if you don’t help me look.” he added, smirking.

“Fine, I’ll help you.” you rolled your eyes.

“Wow, you don’t want me in your bed at all?” he kept smirking.

“Zip it. Let’s find your precious teddy.”

“Yes!” Hyunjin scurried after you as the two of you basically did a search and rescue mission for his favorite plush.

Eventually, you walked into the other bathroom, finding the old teddy sitting on the counter.

“There you are.” you picked up, chuckling at the state of it.

You couldn’t help it as you sniffed the teddy and sure enough it smelled just like its owner.

“Found it!” you yelled and Hyunjin bursted in, panting and smiling.

“Oh my god!” he exclaimed, grabbing the teddy and then you as he enveloped you in a hug for the second time that night.

“Thank you, thank you, thank you!” Hyunjin held you tightly and you chuckled.

“Alright, you’re thankful, I get it. You can let go now.” you said, patting his back.

“I owe you.” he muttered.

“I really didn’t do anything.”

“You did, trust me.” he smiled.

As you laid in your bunk bed that night, you couldn’t stop thinking about Hyunjin.

He seemed somehow different or you were just now seeing different sides of him that you didn’t see before.

You didn’t hate him completely.

Ten days on tour and things were going great.

Every show was better than the last one, every venue bigger than the last one, every note played made Lycoris Radiata mean more and more to you.

Tonight was no exception as you ripped the stage once again, this time Hyunjin ended up lifting Aiden and spinning him at the end which almost made the poor man throw up from excitement.

“This was Lycoris Radiata, see you next time!” and with that you ran backstage where Hyunjin had to hug everyone, even asking for a group hug.

You had to humor him.

When your head finally hit the pillow, you couldn’t sleep even though you were exhausted.

You kept replaying one particular moment from the show in your head.

It was while Hyunjin was singing his famous sex song, before the moaning part, he came up to you and sang while looking at you.

You kept playing and looking at him intently as he sang the lewd lyrics right into your face.

Before he took off, Hyunjin lifted his hand, making a V shape with his fingers, doing the licking motion between them, his tongue piercing shining in the big stage light.

Your mouth fell agape for a moment as you felt hotness spread all over your body and he smirked smugly when you made a tiny mistake in your playing.

People didn’t notice but he did.

And he was satisfied with it.

You couldn’t stop thinking about it, and it had been a while since you’ve had a little ‘you time’ but it was hard to do that with so many people in the bus.

Your eyes fluttered closed and you sighed, hearing some shuffling beneath you.

“Y/n?” Hyunjin suddenly climbed up into your bed, startling you as you sat up and turned on the little light inside.

“W-what are you doing?”

“I can’t sleep. And I figured you weren’t sleeping either.” Hyunjin whispered.

“And how did you figure that?” you clutched your blanket.

“You sighed like a hundred times.” he chuckled quietly.

“What do you want?” you rolled your eyes with a smile.

“To hang out.” he pulled out a deck of cards out of nowhere.

“We can’t make too much noise, we’ll wake everyone up.” you shook your head.

“Fine then we’ll do something quiet.” Hyunjin smirked, tossing the cards aside and laying down next to you, his eyes closing.

“Turn the light off, sweetheart.” he cracked one eye open as you stared at him in disbelief.

“You are not sleeping in my bunk. Go back downstairs.” you whispered.

“No.” he answered simply.

“Hyunjin, I’m warning you, I will push you down.”

“Will you? You’ll wake up the whole bus.” he smirked.

“God, you’re so annoying!” you whisper-yelled, giving up as you laid down, turning away from Hyunjin.

“Be nice and share your blanket.” Hyunjin’s breath hit the back of your neck, making you shiver as goosebumps rose on your skin.

“Need anything else?” you muttered as he hogged your blanket and your personal space.

“A goodnight kiss?” Hyunjin leaned over you, peering at your face hopefully.

You gave him the side eye and he chuckled.

“Maybe some other time, hm?” he asked.

“Go to sleep.” you said and he laid down behind you.

“Goodnight, darling.” Hyunjin wanted to reach out and touch your hair but he figured you’d probably break his arm.

You didn’t answer, your heart beating so hard that you were afraid it was shaking the bed and Hyunjin could feel it.

You quickly turned off the light and tried to calm down.

There was enough space to where he wasn’t touching you but you felt his warmth, his scent, his breath on your skin.

It was driving you crazy and making you feel calm at the same time.

You managed to fall asleep somehow.

At some point, in the middle of the night, Hyunjin and you gravitated closer to each other and you ended up in his arms.

When you slowly blinked your eyes open and realized you were staring straight at Hyunjin’s chest, you jolted away from him, making him groan quietly.

“Where you goin’?” he mumbled into your pillow, trying to grab you.

“As far as I can from you.” you said, wiggling out of his arm that eventually caught you as he groaned again.

“Something’s poking my ass.” Hyunjin gasped when he rolled over and you laughed.

“It’s the cards, you idiot.” rolling your eyes, you left the bunk feeling embarrassed and insane as your face heated up.

What are you doing, sleeping in the same bed as Hyunjin?

You hate him, right?

You weren’t so sure anymore.

Yes, he was annoying but somehow that became kind of endearing.

He has bugged you every single day since the tour started and if he suddenly stopped, it’d feel weird.

You sighed, shaking off your thoughts as you grabbed your phone, munching on your breakfast.

“Morning, y/n. Tell me am I crazy or did Hyunjin sleep over in your bunk?” Ana smirked at you as she brought two coffees.

“You are crazy. But yes, he slept in my bunk.” you said.

“Interesting.” she smirked, lifting one eyebrow up.

“Hey, I saw you sleeping in Anthony’s bunk multiple times. What’s that about?” you teased as you opened up your insta.

“Well, everyone knows we have a thing for each other. You and Hyunjin though… oh yeah, you have a thing too.”

“We don’t have a thing.” you quickly said as Ana chuckled.

“Right. Mhm.”

You continued scrolling, and that’s when you noticed it; the hate comments on your posts.

‘She’s just a slut who’s after Hyunjin’

‘She’s delusional if she thinks he’d like her like she’s ugly lmao’

‘Untalented bitch’

‘Get her away from my Hyunjin’

‘She deserved her band falling apart they were shit anyways’

‘Y/n should retire from the music scene’

Your eyes started stinging with tears as you skimmed through the comment section.

“What’s wrong?” Ana tilted her head to look at you.

You slid your phone to her and she gasped.

“You know these people are probably some jealous, unsuccessful suckers.” she said.

“I need some air.” you sucked in a breath before hurriedly leaving the bus.

“What’s with her?” Hyunjin walked in. “Is she mad at me?”

“No, look.” Ana showed him your phone.

Hyunjin frowned instantly, running out of the bus after you.

You stood not too far away with a cigarette in your hand as you hugged yourself with your other arm and Hyunjin’s eyes softened when he saw you shivering in the wind.

“I knew you’d forget to bring a jacket.” Hyunjin put his leather jacket around you, smoothing his hand over your back a few times.

You exhaled a puff of smoke, not answering him as you melted into his big jacket.

Hyunjin took out a cigarette for himself and you reached out with your lighter, lighting it up as he smirked.

“Since when do you smoke?” he asked.

“Well, I’m feeling extra stressed right now so I needed something to take the edge off.” you shrugged.

“Because of the comments?”

“I don’t wanna talk about them.”

“I’m sorry.” Hyunjin sighed.

“It’s not your fault.” you said.

“I feel like it is.”

Hyunjin was standing so close to you that his arm was touching yours while both of you continued smoking.

You stood silently next to each other for a few more moments as the clouds passed you by, and slowly but surely Hyunjin closed the gap between your hands as he touched yours briefly before he wrapped his pinky around yours.

“Hey, you know I’m honored you’re part of my band.” his tone was serious and you couldn’t bear to look at him or you’d burst into tears.

“I know.” you smiled as you kept looking into the distance.

He smiled too, his eyes focused on you.

Hyunjin had your back; and that was a pinky promise.

Finally, you arrived to your next destination, and you’d be there for a few days which meant you had to check into a hotel.

You were glad to have some time to yourself, you needed a real shower and a real bed and just some time to get away from everything, recharge your batteries.

You just finished with your shower and skincare when your phone annoyed you, buzzing with texts constantly.

When you grabbed it you realized that you forgot to change Hyunjin’s name from ‘asshole’.

You laughed to yourself, deciding to just add a little heart at the end.

asshole<3: y/n what are you doing

asshole<3: why aren’t you answering

asshole<3: i’m BOREEEED

asshole<3: y/n!!!!

asshole<3: princess?

asshole<3: i’m coming to your room

“Shit!” you exclaimed just in time when Hyunjin knocked on your door.

“Go away, Hyunjin!” you yelled on the other side.

“Never! I will wake the whole damn floor if you don’t open this door.” he banged against it.

“Spoiled brat.” you muttered to yourself before opening the door.

“Oh.” Hyunjin looked you up and down, your hair still wet from the shower, your little nightgown accentuating all your goodies.

“Did you dress up for me?” he smirked as his tongue darted out to play with his lip piercing; a habit you picked up on.

“Oh yeah, I was just waiting for you to come knocking on my door.” you answered sarcastically.

“Oh come on, I brought snacks.” he lifted up a few bags.

“You should’ve said that first.” you stepped aside, letting him in.

“So, are you here just because you’re bored?” you scoffed as he practically skipped to your bed before throwing himself on it.

“No, I’m here cause I know you miss me.” he smirked at you. “I spared you the walk to my room, princess.”

“Oh yeah, I am the one who missed you.” you said pointedly.

“I know you are.” he wiggled his eyebrows and you groaned, throwing a pillow at him but the slick bastard caught it.

“I’m gonna change into something else.” you said, feeling a bit self-conscious.

“Into what? After that outfit, the only logical thing is to have nothing on.”

“Wouldn’t you like that?” you snickered.

“I would.” he smirked.

“Changing right now!” you left for the bathroom to put on some actual pjs.

“Don’t cross this line, Hyunjin.” you pointed as the two of you settled in your bed, ready to watch a movie and snack.

He smiled his shit eating grin and put his finger over the line.

“Whoops, crossed it.”

“Next time you lose a finger.” you threatened.

“Where is it gonna be misplaced?” he smirked.

“Not where you think.”

“You don’t know what I’m thinking.” he leaned closer to you. “But I can show you.”

“No thanks. Just watch the movie.”

It was quiet for some time until Hyunjin spoke up.

“I’m thinking of getting another tattoo.”

“Oh?” you didn’t take your eyes off the screen. “Where?”

“My back. I wanna finish what I started with my arm and shoulder.” he answered.

“Which is?” you looked at him and he smirked.

“Glad you asked.” he said, taking his shirt off.

“Woah, woah, what are you doing?” you jolted as he tossed it aside.

“Showing you my tattoos.” he giggled. “See, it’s one big picture. I sketched the original on my paper, it’s a flower’s life story. From a little seed all the way to the dust it becomes after it wilts forever. It’s not finished yet though.” he turned and you gulped.

“That’s a beautiful thought actually.”

“Feel the flowers.” Hyunjin turned his shoulder to you.

“I’m not gonna touch your tattoos.” you said.

“Come on, you know you want to.” he taunted you.

“No, I don’t.” you shook your head.

“Yes, you do. You started ogling me as soon as I took my shirt off.”

“That’s because of your musc- nothing, nevermind.” you quickly caught yourself, biting your tongue as your face started burning.

“Because of what? My muscles? You like them?” he started flexing immediately.

“That’s disgusting, stop acting like that.” you slapped his arm without thinking and you both froze.

“Oh.” Hyunjin smirked before taking your hand in his. “Really, I want you to feel my tattoos.”

“Fine if it gets you to shut up.”

Your fingers gently traced the delicate art on Hyunjin’s skin, starting from his wrist up his arm as you watched goosebumps rise on his skin.

You took your time to trace every leaf and petal as Hyunjin looked at you intently, his breaths coming out shaky as you traced over his arm, your fingers swirling with the intricate patterns.

Your hand came up to his shoulder as you continued tracing, his skin was so smooth and he was so warm under your touch.

“Y/n.” Hyunjin whispered, his hand covering yours as he leaned in closer to you, his eyelids hooded.

Your eyes widened when you realized he was about to kiss you and you quickly moved away.

“What the hell are you doing?!” you stood up and Hyunjin frowned at you.

“What does it look like I’m doing?!”

“Trying to get into my pants!” you scoffed. “I think you should sleep in your room.”

“B-but, it’s not like that!” Hyunjin stood up and you backed away.

“I know what it’s like. Please leave.”

“Fine.” Hyunjin looked dejected as he grabbed his phone and shirt. “Teddy is lonely without me anyways.” he said, making a theatrical leave out of your room as he dragged his feet and kept giving you pointed looks.

You were almost close to telling him he can stay, but as soon as he leaned in, you panicked and didn’t know how to react so you kept your mouth shut.

And you continued spiralling when he left, thinking about if he actually likes you or just wants to fuck you like he does to any girl.

You’ve seen him with girls on his arms constantly and while you always thought what you felt was hate or disgust; in this moment you recognized it was jealousy and it didn’t feel good at all.

taglist: @moonchild9350 @janepg @velvetmoonlght @hwanghyunjinismybae @jehhskz @porangporangmeong @laylasbunbunny @laughatdanger @jeonginslefthand @sapphirewaves @s3ungm1nxxl0ve @painterhyunjin @starlost-mochi-x @saintcosette @ooshyana @frehyun @scarlet789 @skzdust @simpforleeknaur @schniti-is-in-the-house

part 2

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enha-doodles · 7 months ago

Note

i wanna see the slytherin boys and a muggle reader who loves to crochet things for then and gift them crochet stuff ♡♥︎♡

SLYTHERIN GUY'S REACTION TO YOU CROCHETING THEM STUFF | ✧⁺。

Pairing : (Mattheo , Tom , Theodore, Lorenzo, Draco) x reader

Notes : lmao this one is actually kinda cute and very fluffy , tysm for the request and I hope you like it!! Each one is getting a different crochet stuff so yeah :)

Also if you can plz lmk which reaction y'all liked the most or which guy's part you like the most in whatever reaction you read on my blog so I can write in a similar way 🧸🧸

Warnings : none coz this is pure fluff ><

MATTHEO RIDDLE

Bro is constantly annoying you and trying to get your attention while you crochet . He'd be trying all sorts of stuff like making funny faces or litteraly picking you up , but you'd scold him if you loose the thread and he'd look like a kicked puppy :) After you're done you'd hand him a scarf , similar to your house colors so that if he wears it outside it'll blend with the uniform .

He would be all like "i can't wear that out darling" And when you'd ask why he'd say that he's too manly to wear something cutesy like that and that he has an image to maintain . The next day you'd catch him wearing it while he smoked with his friends 🕺🏻

TOM RIDDLE

Mr marvalo has no reaction whatsoever when you hand him the cute crocheted bunny . He'd just nod and put it in his pocket kissing your head . Doesn't utter a single word . He finds it ridiculous - ridiculously cute but he throws the thought as soon as it comes . He'd rather be called a Hufflepuff than admit that he finds something cute coz pfttt?!?

He's a smartass though so he'd make that bunny - a horcrux . It's the first thing you made by yourself and he loves it so dearly that he splits his soul for it , besides who are you kidding no one would suspect a crocheted bunny to be the dark lord's horcrux .

THEODORE NOTT

He has a greatt fashion sense (that's something for being an Italian man y'all ) and he absolutely . loves . when you crochet him stuff . You often make him sweaters and gloves and he proudly wears it , his style adding charm to your stuff .

He also boasts it to his friends . Believe it or not he'd kinda have a fashion show upon everyone's request . He'd have a blank face (his resting bitch face) while he walks a straight line towards the couch filled by his friends , showing off the knitted sweater pretending to be a model as you laugh with mattheo . Also makes you stand up at last for credits offcourse.

LORENZO BERKSHIRE

My guy is in absolute love with you and tries to engage in everything you do so when you gift him a crocheted bouquet , he firstly squeaks like a girl upon recieving it and then tries to make a bouquet for you aswell . Him trying to learn crochet is like a love letter to you .

But in the process of making it , he turns it into a competition 😭😭 when he finshes making it and all your lovey dovey stuff is over he'd joke that his bouquet is better than yours ( it wasn't.) Also hattsoff to him because he bears all the teasing of his friends trying to make it for you . Pure gentlemen istg uggh

DRACO MALFOY

He doesn't like muggle things so he'd go blabbering about why you're doing it on your own when he can just sway a hand and it will be made by itself. ( So much for having a magic wand little boy 😒) Would be grumbling and yapping for HOURS and would finally shut up when you shove his miniature crocheted version in his face .

He be sooo shocked , stuttering and fumbling with his words . Heart eyes for real . Would absolutely love it and he'd keep it with him all the time , he loves you and well his mini self aswell .

。　　　　✧　　　　⁺　　　。

TAGLIST : @sugarcandydoll @helendeath

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certifiablyinsanez · 28 days ago

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Okay, I’m not coping well with the emotional whirlpool I’m experiencing after Mastermind. And this scene right here:

Is something that is haunting me. Because it’s not difficult to see what troubles lie ahead for them, what consequences await for the events of the trial. What do we already know about Blitz? That he has deeply hated himself for many years. Maybe he felt slightly better after Millie’s monologue in Ghostfuckers, but I think we all know that such a deep seated hatred of oneself doesn’t disappear in a single conversation. This much is clear by the pictures in Blitz’s apartment still being blacked out that we can see in the background in Mastermind. And any relief he may have felt from Millie’s sincere story is going to be completely shattered.

I have no doubt personally that Blitz has always thought he ruined Stolas’ life. He’s not a stupid man; he’s observant. He knows the struggles Stolas has gone through with the advent of their deal and relationship. He’s seen the wedge he put between him and his daughter. He knows the kind of hell the divorce has put him through. But now?

If there was any doubt he ruined his life before, it’s gone now. Because Stolas has now utterly, and completely, lost everything. His titles, his status, his wealth, his home, his power. All that’s gone. But worse? He’s entirely lost his daughter now. Blitz will probably never forgive himself for that. I mean shit, he literally said this:

Stolas is a much more powerful being than Blitz. But Blitz believes he deserves to die rather than put Stolas in harms way. Blitz will probably be wishing that he died rather than live with the fact that he’s brought Stolas low. Stolas’ punishment is far longer than Blitz’s life span. The consequences of saving his life will outlive him. There no chance Blitz will accept this as Stolas’ choice. Not only will he have to deal with the trauma of the trial before Stolas arrived, but also the result of what it’s done to the man he loves more than life itself.

But Stolas? Stolas would do it again. The way he says it, “Always”, is just so raw and softly powerful. Because he’s just had his powers ripped from his body. He’s lost it all, he’s lost his child. But he would do it again. There was no other choice to be made. There was no alternative. He said it himself:

Stolas is a suicidal figure. He prepped his daughter for the day he wouldn’t be around. He doesn’t value himself or his life at all. He’s suffered tremendously. He probably already believes he’s lost his daughter. His daughter has made it clear that she hates him. Outside of Blitz, who is his light in the darkness, his soulmate and true love, what does he have to live for? To Stolas this was a no brainer. He went to that block with dignity. He was so willing to die for his love.

So when Blitz thanks him for saving his life, Stolas, breathless and weak, says “Always”, because he will always love him, need him, cherish him. He will always put him above himself, which is something Blitz wouldn’t understand but is second nature to a gentle spirit like Stolas. Stolas who escaped the torments of his life in his books, who is humble and sweet with a lowly imp because his body and soul needs Blitz like he needs air. A true romantic, a soft demon who gave it all up for love and would do it again.

Always, he says, and means with every syllable.

#helluva boss #helluva boss stolitz #stolitz #helluva stolas #blitz x stolas #helluva boss stolas #stolas x blitz #stolas goetia #blitzo buckzo #blitzø #helluva blitz #helluva boss blitz #blitzo #helluvaverse #mastermind helluva

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caramelkoo · 2 months ago

Text

before we shatter — jjk [two]

genre : established relationship, idol!jungkook

word count : 5.1k

summary : dating an idol is fun, they said. having a family with one is fun, they said. Until you're falling face forward because of your reality. A reality where Jungkook dreams of a future and a reality where your own future is collapsed.

chapter warnings : ANGST, eventual fluff, mentions death of a loved one, mentions of Alzheimer's disease, strong language, mature, cheating (not by the main characters), jungkook will piss you off but he's deserving of love too :((, slight making out but nothing else. i think that's it, please mention if i missed anything.

a/n : OH MY GOD IT TOOK ME FOREVER !!!! here it is my pookies <333 i hope this will heal the past trauma that part one caused yall omfg. i love you so much and send an ask if you want to. You're so so cherished.

Jungkook’s fingers press on the digital lock before it beeps, indicating the door has been unlocked.

“Babe, I’m home”

He expects his girlfriend, Nicole to say anything in response but, on the contrary, all he gets is pure silence. Not a single person breathing the same air as him inside the house. His eyebrows crease in utter confusion and he wonders if he she went outside in order to run any errands.

Nicole is a fashion designer who he met when she was appointed to design his concert outfits for the group’s previous world tour. At first, there were some stolen glances, eye contacts, and innocent touches but when he found himself looking for her in the room full of people, it had to be more than that.

At the risk of sounding like a nervous wreck with zero experience with women, Jungkook had walked back and forth approximately 46 times before he took up the hatchet to ask her on a date, to which she’d smirked and whispered a yes in response.

Listen, Jungkook is a confident man. Add a confident yet adorably shy woman beside him and you have got yourself the perfect mix of charisma and charm. Not to say that he was not totally enthralled by her. He genuinely wanted to get to know her better and that’s not only because she was confident, of course.

Ordinarily, he’d find her on the couch going through her designs or making herself the 50th cup of coffee. It all really depends, but tonight the eerie silence surrounding him makes his stomach hurt. A nagging feeling arises in his chest and he hopes everything is okay.

He releases a breath and walks further in towards the bedroom. Who knows, she got tired of working all day and went in there to take a nap.

Much to his disappointment, just as his hands grip the doorknob, a moan comes from the other side of the wall and he freezes.

“You’re so good to mommy, aren’t you?”

He can’t mistake the voice even if he tries to. He hears it all day, every night by his side.

Nicole has complemented him in every spectrum of their relationship. She’d been equally successful, equally fun and adventurous, and matched every desire and aspirations of his.

Tow bodies, one soul if you will.

Turns out, she lagged behind on the spectrum of honesty.

Knowing he can’t be just standing there and not find out who she’s been fucking behind his back, he twists the knob and pushes the door open. The moan which earlier caused his heart to momentarily stop now turning into a full blown scream.

“What the fuck?”

You might prefer to think that Jungkook was the one to exclaim that, but no. Sitting on the bed with wide eyes and no clothes is his manager, Tae moo. Next to him is Nicole, trying to cover herself up with the help of the duvet as if she’d not spent the majority of nights sleeping beside Jungkook in the very same state after he’d made love to her.

“Jungkook, baby. I can explain”

His jaw goes tight, voice turning shaky. “Get out of my house.”

Fierce eyes are pointed at the manager the whole time and he doesn’t even bother to look at Nicole. As if someone had set his non-existent pants on fire,Tae moo hurries and plucks whatever fabric he can from the floor and rushes outside.

When Jungkook finally glances at Nicole, she’s got the same look on her face which she does when she wants something from him but can’t get herself to form the words. Desperate and pleading.

He pinches the bridge of his nose, tone acidic when he asks, “Why are you still here?”

“What?”

“Why? Did he fuck the common sense out of you?”

She blanches at his words, clearly not expecting him to talk like that. “Please don’t talk to me like that. I told you I can explain.”

Jungkook can’t help but let out a chuckle infused with bitterness and disbelief, “What could possibly justify you fucking my manager, Nicole. Were you lonely? Did I not give you enough love and attention? Was my dick not enough for you that you just had to jump on another one?”

Every word that comes out of his mouth has an intention of hurting the woman in front of him. Standing there when Jungkook tries to figure out any possible cause of this betrayal, he registers something.

While Jungkook was thriving because of the fact that he has a woman who supports him and keeps him on his toes, holds him when the world gets mean to him, the said woman was using him to feed her ego. He had been indispensable for her to gain the popularity that was left for her. The truth that he'd been a ladder all along for her in order to climb till success hits him like a torrent and an ache throbs through his chest.

“Why would you need another designer when I’m here?”

“Jungkook c’mon, all my friends are gonna be there. Don’t be a spoilsport.”

“Do they not let you post your girlfriends on your official instagram profile?”

Everything falls into place like a missing piece of puzzle fitting into space. Additionally, Nicole had not even gotten close with any of Jungkook’s friends’ girlfriends and he’d decided not to dwell on the fact for his own peace.

Arguably, some people just don’t click and that’s fine. Except, those people don’t denounce other women behind their back. Her adulterated personality was oozing out of her and he managed to miss it.

“I don’t know, babe. Her dress was too revealing. Take it from a fashion designer when I tell you she was not fit for that dress”

“Isn’t she too touchy with her boyfriend in public? I mean I understand you’re in love but jeez”

It is often said that when you’re in love, you’re unable to see your lover’s flaws because you get blinded. Blinded by their beauty, their charm, and their affection towards you. Safe to say, Jungkook can relate.

“Get out”

‘Please just liste-”

His pitch goes higher. “RIGHT.NOW”

Subsequently, he had been off the market for two whole years. Unfortunately, though, he couldn’t escape the endless amount of impolite and not to mention personal questions about his relationship during the interviews.

“Jungkook, you were seen coming out of several restaurants and clubs with a woman a few years back, but we’ve not seen her for a while now. Is there something you’d like your fans to know?”

“The ladies out there are having a field day because it seems our favourite superstar, Jeon Jungkook is single again”

“Is there any chance of us getting to see the mysterious woman again?”

Fucking exhausting.

Then, one fine day, he met you.

˚୨୧⋆｡˚

Maybe, the trust issues made home inside of him after he found his ex-girlfriend naked and sweaty on his bed with his manager. Maybe, you can blame it on the fact that he had still not gotten over the agony caused by his past relationship.

It’s almost like the words that come out of his mouth throw him two years back to the very same room where he tasted the vile taste of betrayal.

“Tell me, honey. Is it the important thing you wanted to talk about but held back just to get a good fuck out of me?”

The sentence is so absurd and disgusting that you can’t stop your hands from connecting with his face with a hard force. His face turns sideways as his skin stings because of the slap.

“Watch your tone with me, Jeon Jungkook.” The words are barely a whisper as you gulp, flying into a rage and hoping he eats his own words.

You’re half naked, your hair's a damn mess and you probably have a swollen face with boogers in your eyes, but at this moment, you have to stand up for yourself without caring about any of that. You can’t be the person to take first hand beating of something you haven’t even thought of doing.

When he looks back at you, you wish someone was holding you because your legs feel weak. The look of betrayal and anger is long gone and now the only thing that exists behind those big doe eyes is hurt. A pain which makes you want to disintegrate.

“Baby, I didn’t mean-”

“You know what, _____? I would have seen this coming. I was a fucking fool to even wish for a normal bond with someone without some shit happening to us.”

You watch him storm out the door, slamming it so hard it rattles on its hinges after throwing the blue file on the bed. Your feet remain frozen to the wooden floor and you hope he comes running back in, says he’s sorry and he wants to talk it out.

“Some shit”. He just called the whole situation shit.

A terrible labyrinth of anger, guilt and grief traps you as you find yourself wishing that a tight hug could fix the scattered pieces and mould your relationship back into one beautiful piece.

The words on the report stare back at you as they somehow feel more painful now that your boyfriend is aware of them. He knows he’s got into something he hasn’t signed up for and the thought that before you could even explain everything to him, before you could even tell him that you would rather die but hide anything let alone information as huge as this, he’d walked out.

Placing the file on the nightstand, you go through your usual morning routine. Take a shower, change into fresh clothes and take your supplements.

Everything is blurry to you, the feeling of loss lingering deep in your chest, slightly aware of the fact that physically, Jungkook is nearby, mentally? You’re not so sure.

Despite your better judgement, you walk towards the kitchen with the motive of making your breakfast and you find Jungkook looking for something under the couch with two suitcases standing in front of the door. Was he gonna leave without letting you know? When did he even pack?

You take a deep breath and release, knowing exactly what he is looking for, “Are you looking for your glasses?”

He straightens back up and holds your gaze. There’s a bit of delay before his answer reaches your ears. “Yeah um, I can’t seem to find them anywhere”

A minuscule smile forms on your face, “They’re inside the bedside drawer. I kept them there cause you know, you tend to lose them”

He doesn’t share the humor as you feel a pang in your chest intensifying. It’s suddenly so quiet that you can hear your as well as his breathing. And it’s uneven. Has your home always been this quiet?

You clear your throat, eyes finding the suitcases behind him, “Heading somewhere?”

He does the same and looks back at you. “Yeah uh, you remember Jimin calling me yesterday when we-,” he pauses, “Well, I have to go overseas to promote the album and get done with some other formalities”

You flash him an understanding smile, feeling utterly shattered inside and not sure if you should ask him as to why he didn't bother to let you know or just let it slide. The question is right at the tip of your tongue but thinking better of it, you gulp it back down.

“Of course. How long will you be gone?”

He slides his hands inside his front pockets and sighs, “Probably a week. You can’t be precise when it comes to promotions.”

“Alright,” you halt, “Uh.. do you want me to get the glasses for yo-”

“No, I've got it.” He says as he excuses himself. When he comes back, the glasses are resting on his nose making him look even more beautiful than he already is in your eyes.

A faint memory of you wiping his glasses for him with your slip dress comes to the surface and you hide a smile.

You watch him round the kitchen counter and pick up his jacket. As he grips the suitcases with both of his hands, the gleaming bracelet catches your attention.

What are the odds of him preparing to live without it on his wrist? What are the odds of him preparing to live without you?

You’re not surprised when he begins walking out the front door without saying a word. But you know you have to. You have to let him know that you don’t have any intention of giving up on him.

With your palms turning clammy, you speak and prepare yourself for whatever comes back as a response, “Wait”

His feet come to a stop, but him not bothering to turn around does nothing to ease your ache if not adds to it.

Swallowing, you continue, “Whe-when you come back, I want to talk it out. I want you to know that you mean too much to me for me to hide such a major information from you and one that has to do with both of us at that. Yes, I held back for a while but that’s just because I wanted to forget,” the damn tears are threatening to fall yet again, “I wanted to feel for the last time what it's like to be in your arms, your warmth before I break your heart and mine in the process,” Your fastening heartbeat causes you to grip your cardigan in a tight fist,

“Can I at least get a hug?”

His shoulders visibly go tensed as he admits over his shoulders, “I’m afraid if I so much as look at you for more than a second, I will break.”

With that the front door opens and closes, leaving you with nothing but warm tears. You try your fucking hardest not to take his statement as face value but god you want to curl up and die. Although, you know none of this is your fault. If only you could see what the future holds, everything could have been much more bearable.

You’re scared you’ll lose everything— him, your happiness, your future together.

You’re scared you’ll burn.

˚୨୧⋆｡˚

For as long as he can remember, Jungkook’s childhood had been filled with vivid memories of his parents’ kisses, them being madly in love with each other, dancing in the kitchen, planning picnic dates and thousands of giggles. He had been blessed with a mother who loved his father more than Jungkook has ever seen someone loving the other person, and his father reciprocated the love tenfold.

Along with the love he also had another emotion wrapped around his heart in a tight grip. Fear. Fear that all of that would dissipate. You know, how sometimes when you’re too happy, there’s just a fucking voice inside of you screaming, “It won’t last long”?

That’s exactly what he used to feel. The root of the fear was a mystery to him and he even tried to forget about it, thinking it might be just a pipe dream.

Except, it was not.

And then one day, like a bolt from the blue, Jungkook’s dad was gone.

He still remembers the day very clearly when he saw his dad’s body being carried away on a stretcher, heavy and cold. Meanwhile, he just stood there with fat tears streaming down his cheeks, his mom arms stopping him from running behind his father.

Then, if that was not enough to break him, he lost his mom. Not physically but mentally when her mental state started to deteriorate over the next few years. Before he knew it, his mother totally forgot about his identity as well as his father’s. Apparently, that left a scar far too deep.

What’s it like to forget the ones you love?

Even though Jungkook had made peace with the fact that his mother will never return the same way he’d known her for, a small part of him still hopes. After all, what’s so wrong in hoping?

His feet drag him down the long hallway filled with wooden brown doors until he stops and stands before one. He clears his throat as he watches the woman just lie there and stare into nothing in particular.

When he gains her attention, a smile breaks out from her lips, “There you are. I knew you would come, Jimin.”

Jungkook runs a palm over his chest, a futile effort to soothe the ache.

“It’s Jungkook, mom. Your son”

“My son? How do you know my son?” The vivaciousness long gone from his mom’s voice.

He swallows and gets further inside the room. He doesn’t try to push it because he knows for a fact that even if she recognizes him today, if tomorrow he comes back he’ll be either Jimin or Namjoon or some random man he’s never heard of.

“How are you doing?”

His mom sighs, a pout on her lips as she looks down, “Still the same. I asked the nurse for a cup of tea hours back but she seems to have forgotten about it. That witch.”

He chuckles, sitting himself on the stool. “I’m sure she’s bringing it in for you.”

Her eyes move over to the window and settle on the maple tree outside. Just watching it. Jungkook ponders if she remembers chasing him under the maple tree when he was a child. It’s his favorite memory.

“A kind woman stopped by a few days back. God knows what her name was but she had this.. sad look in her eyes, as if someone had snatched something away from her and she’s broken over it. I wonder if people look at me and feel the same amount of sympathy that I did towards her that day. I’m not a fool, I know I’m sick. I could be dead by tomorrow for all you know,” she releases a small sigh as Jungkook waits for her to continue.

Except she doesn’t and in that moment, Jungkook just…. knows.

˚୨୧⋆｡˚

Jungkook’s eyes have not left the silver bracelet on his wrist for a while now, brushing it with his fingers lightly as if that would help him rectify his mistakes. He wants to slap himself whenever he remembers the look on your face when those cursed words left him. You looked so broken, so tired.

The woman his mother mentioned is you, it’s so obvious. Something about the way she told him about you made him want to swallow a fistful of iron nails. Fuck even that would hurt less. For a second he saw himself at her place and that made his insides twist in such a way that he didn’t understand.

What if one day he just wakes up and doesn’t remember you? What if it all just disappears? Her memories, your smile, your sweet giggles, your moans, your touch.

The thought itself makes him want to rip something into pieces not to mention rip his own heart into pieces.

Jungkook can hardly walk through the veil of darkness which fills the hall. He holds his phone screen up for light, calling out for you.

“Honey, you home?”

No response. With his heart in his throat he starts moving towards the bedroom. Gripping the doorknob, he twists it as the door clicks open. Before he can start panicking because of the empty room with nothing but his own stuff scattered around, a cough reaches his ears.

His brows crease into a frown, confused. “_____, I’m starting to worry.”

Another cough follows, making his breath pick up its pace. Following the sound, he finds himself standing outside the guest room’s door. Wasting no time he pushes the door open as he watches you on the bed covered in layers of blanket with sweat all over your forehead.

He rushes to you in a quick second, heart beating fast. “Hey, hey baby,” voice coming out as gently as possible, “You okay? Why are you here?”

Your eyes land on his face as you sniff. “This is what happens when you eat your weight in a bucket full of ice cream on a Sunday night.”

Jungkook’s expression flashes with relief, grateful that it’s nothing more than an unfortunate cold.

“You should leave.”

He blinks, “What?”

“You're more contagious to the cold than anyone I know, baby. Go. I’ll be fine”

To be honest, he could give zero fucks about catching a cold right now. He holds your gaze for a long moment before standing up.

A quick look of hurt passes through your eyes, but you recover just as quickly.

“If you think I’m gonna leave you here in this state then you underestimate my love for you, honey. I don’t know if you remember, but you wanted us to talk once I come back and I want you to get better and get talking, alright? God knows how I managed to have survived two weeks without you by my side, but now that I’m here, you’re going nowhere out of my sight.”

“Jungkoo-”

He interrupts, “As for those reports, I don’t give a fuck. I don’t care if we can’t have kids normally as most people do,” he runs his hands through his black locks, messing them up as he continues,

“In every sense of the word, I just want you. I want you right here with me, holding my hand and making me the happiest motherfucker ever. We’ll try something else. We’ll adopt, we’ll go with IVF, we’ll-”

“Jungkook”

“Yeah?”

“Breathe, baby”

So he does as he fills his chest with air, taking a moment to relax. Reaching over, you take his hands in your soft and warm ones, caressing his knuckle tattoo.

“Do I have the permission to be selfish just for one more time?”

He offers you a weak smile, “You were never selfish to begin with, my love.”

Your hands pull him towards you until he’s lying down by your side. He wraps his arms around you, holding you so close you’re almost one.

Jungkook presses a kiss on your clammy forehead followed by one on the tip of your nose, “You okay?”

“I am now” you whisper, letting your head drop weakly forward to pepper kisses across his hoodie clad chest.

“I’m gonna speak now and I want you to listen, okay?”

“Okay.”

Your fingers clutch his hoodie in a small fist as you begin, “I lied about babysitting Coco and I’m sorry about that since I know we promised to never lie to each other, but I had a reason for that. I was at the hospital when you called. I knew you would be at the studio and I didn’t want to put you through that when you’re working,”

You look up at him, eyes full of love and affection, “When I was young, my mom showed me an orange butterfly which I immediately fell in love with. I played with it for hours before I went back inside the house. I let it go, wishing it would visit me again. I had to let that butterfly go, Jungkook. Because I knew I couldn’t keep holding onto it. I was gonna do the same with you that night. I had it all planned out, I was gonna let you know about my infertility and then I was going to ask you for a breakup. Thankfully, I didn’t. Do you know why?”

Resigned, Jungkook shakes his head as a teardrop falls.

“Because some things and some people are worth staying for. You’re worth staying for. I was stupid enough to think that I would survive without you, that I would be able to weather the storm without you by my side.”

You’re sobbing now, sniffing as your fingers wipe Jungkook’s tears away.

He cups your cheek, his fingers brushing featherlight on your skin as the most tantalizing caress. “You don’t have to. I’ll never leave you, baby. You’re it for me. I can’t breathe without you, _____. Do I want a family one day? Of course, Do I want it without you in it? Over my dead body. You’re my present and I very much have the intention of making you my future too. With all due respect, but something as trivial as that report is not gonna stop me from doing that.”

A heavy moment of silence hangs in the air as he just stares at the love of his life, he didn’t even realize when the power came back, illuminating the whole guest room.

You are the first one to say, “I love you.”

“I love you the most.” he declares as his lips brush with yours with immense gentleness and love.

“Jungkook?”

“Yeah honey?”

“What do you think about calling our daughter, Ji woo? If we ever have one?” your voice comes out muffled because of the way you’re snuggled against his chest.

His lips stretch into the biggest grin ever, chest filling with pride because the woman who he loves the most in his life asked to name the girl he’d love the most in his life after a woman who loves him the most in her life. Even if she doesn’t know it.

“I’d love that.”

˚୨୧⋆｡˚

Few years later

“What-” you gasp as your body goes tense for a quick second before relaxing against Jungkook’s chest. His arms circling around your waist, making you feel cozy and at home.

“You really need to stop scaring me like this.”

“Why? I can’t hug my wife now? I know you secretly like back hugs.”

Wife. The word still holds the same love and power as it did the first time he asked “Will you be my wife and make me the happiest man in the world, honey?”

You let your head fall back against his chest and look up at him, “You know what? I do.”

“I know you like the back of my hand, wifey.” he says, leaning down to drop a light kiss on your forehead.

“I love it when you call me that, but right now you’re distracting me.” Your hands start running over his forearms, caressing. It’s like a habit for you. You need to touch him whenever you can, feel him close to you as much as possible. He’s always so warm and soft, it makes you all fuzzy on the inside.

His mouth nibbles on your ear, making you shudder. “I don’t think so. Besides I barely get to have you for myself these days.”

You sigh and just let yourself relax in his hold. The past few days have been hectic to say the least and nothing can heal you better than being in your husband’s arms. “How was practice, baby?”

Jungkook has been working on a new album resulting in him spending most of his time in the studio. You miss him, of course, it’s only normal, but you’re also beyond proud. He took a momentous break from his work the same year you guys were facing issues and he didn’t so much as leave your side, promising to always stick around. Through thick and thin as he said in the wedding vows.

He ignores your question and sucks on your neck, making you groan.

“Jungkook” His lips find yours and he steals a kiss, hands pushing under your sundress as he caresses the back of your thigh. Goosebumps break out all over your body and you curse at the fact that he still holds so much power over you. Your legs go weak and your clutch onto his shoulder for support.

As he lets your lips go with a loud pop, you open your eyes and look at him.

“What are the chances of me getting lucky tonight?” he asks, hands still under your dress, now grazing your ass.

“It-”

Before you could answer him, the sound of tiny footsteps running towards you both reached you. And there she is, your prettiest five year old letting out the biggest shriek after she sees her daddy all but falling down from enthusiasm.

“Da!” her feet pick up the pace as she runs towards him with arms wide open.

You detangle yourself from your husband’s hold and he takes a step back.

He crouches down and catches your little girl, Ji woo, in his arms. Groaning as she crashes into him. “Ooff”

“Da, I missed you. You’re coming to the picnic with us, right? Mommy says you are.”

You watch him laugh and peck her chubby cheek. “Of course, sunshine. Nice daddies never miss picnics with their daughters, do they?”

As they talk like their goofy selves, you just take a moment and watch. By the grace of all things good, you’ve had the chance to visit almost everywhere in the world, but this right here is the best view. After musing about it, you and Jungkook decided to go with IVF and you’ve not regretted it ever since. Hands down the best decision of your life.

Waking up and seeing your husband with your daughter sprawled on his chest as she lets out tiny little snores, watching her fall in love with the same eyes as you did, going on family dates, going to his concerts wearing the same outfits and whatnot. It’s more than enough for you to thank your lucky stars that you stayed.

“Mommy, daddy says he’ll not steal my strawberry this time.”

You offer her a gentle smile. “Daddy is a little liar, baby”

She lets out the cutest gasp ever, cupping Jungkook’s face with her tiny hands. His face is so big in her hands it’s almost chucklesome.

“Is that right, daddy?”

He playfully narrows his eyes at you as you stick your tongue out. “Mommy’s just jealous because you love daddy more. Now, what do you think of making those bracelets together?”

Ji woo’s face lights up like the fourth of July and she starts squirming like a little butterfly in his arms, flapping her arms. She’s been asking for her own bracelet after seeing the silver one on Jungkook’s wrist for years now. He suggested custom making one and she got so excited one would think he got her a pet dog or something. Although, he’s considering that too. Nothing surprising there.

When it comes to Ji woo, Jungkook is a loser in love. You’ve never seen him looking at another girl the same way he looks at his daughter. Besides you, of course. It’s innocent, pure and all things perfect.

Before they both leave, she gives you a kiss on the cheek, covering her eyes when your husband pecks your lips.

Your eyes find the butterfly tattoo on your wrist, sometimes seeing it in your daughter. Excited, lively and someone who makes you want to wish it never disappears, the only difference?

Jungkook’s not afraid that everyone will let him go and you’re not uneasy about how you will have no reason to not let go.

You’re healed.

He’s healed.

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yuriisclumsy · 7 months ago

Note

hii! How are you darling :)

Can i request a crack/ funny and fluffy cale x pregnant reader ? Like she is a few months pregnant, so cale and the kids always lay with her and dont let her do much.

Ofc the others are overprotective of her, bc like shes clumsy😭 like always falling down the stairs, nose bleeds (me core) and she watched everyone panic while looking at them with a deadpanned look bc

1. Shes a baddie whos to hot to die

2.the baby is fine and alive

And cale is loosing his mind bc he cannot leave her alone for two mins bc she will somehow make even more trouble simply bc shes ✨just a girl ✨

Stay still, will you?

𝚆𝚘𝚛𝚍 𝙲𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚝:1,267

»»►This is a funny scenario. I like to think Cale is a super, over the top, overprotective, man. If you mess with those he cares about or loves, you’re about to find yourself in an interesting situation.

»»►But when Cale finds out he’s going to be a papa, he goes wild. Forget accepting whatever mission the crown prince wants him to do, he needs to be right next to his wife–24/7.

»»►And let’s be honest with ourselves, this man would literally take this chance to laze around even more. This is the life he wanted, no?

»»►Oh, but his dear wife doesn’t like sitting still for more than a minute. This is torture for her—but can’t do anything about it because her husband and (adopted)kids want her to relax and take care of herself and the baby.

»»►But, why? You may ask. That’s for the single fact that she is clumsy (hey just like me!). She crashes stuff, trips, falls, hurts herself—according to Cale and the others—she denies such accusations—and last but not least, she gets herself in trouble.

»»►So, yeah. [Name] have no “stepping outside the state” privileges until after the baby is here physically. But [Name] is a tough cookie. She can handle herself when no-one is around. So—to everyone’s dismay—she goes outside one day. It’s just to stroll around and see what has progressed in Harris Village.

»»►One thing to note: she didn’t tell a soul about her outing.

»»►Now imagine Cale’s face when he comes back to see the staff panicking for the whereabouts of his wife.

»»►Let's just say…it was chaotic that day.

“Woah, that looks tasty...!” [Name] drooled at the sight.

“Good morning, lady [Name]! What can I get you today?” The shop owner greeted [Name] with a smile.

“Can I have this please?” [Name] pointed to one of the delicacies of the bakery. It was a croissant-looking-bread stuffed full of chocolate.

The owner of the bakery gave her a bag filled with what she ordered. “Here you go! Please come back soon!” the owner waved goodbye.

“I will!” She waved back at the owner. [Name] took one of the baked goods and began to eat it.

“I wonder how everyone is doing at the state.”

…

“LADY [NAME]!”

“M’lady! Where are you?!”

“Does anyone remember the last place [Name] went to?!”

“M’lady, please be okay!”

Currently, everyone is in a frenzy. The lady of the house was nowhere to be found, and everyone and their mothers were running like headless chickens in search of her. And if they did not find her, their master was going to kill them!

“What is with the commotion here?” a voice spoke from the entrance of the manor.

Everything stopped. Slowly, the housekeepers and butlers turned their heads towards the voice. They knew this voice. Very well in fact. Although they grew to like it, right now, they wish they didn’t hear it. They prayed that it was a ghost. Dread overtook them as they saw the voice’s owner.

Cale Henituse. Their young master. And the husband of the manor’s lady they were trying to find.

“So? Is anyone going to tell me why you are all running like the world just ended?” Cale spoke.

Who was mad enough to even dare to tell the young master that his wife magically disappeared? Not me. And not anyone in this room.

Yet a brave soul stood up and spoke. May he rest in peace.

“Ah…y-young mater Cale,” a young butler went forward and vowed, stammering in his word, “we..uh…. Can’t find lady [Name] anywhere...?”

“...”

It was deafeningly silent. No one moved an inch, waiting—waiting for the order to execute them. They fully accepted their fate.

“Well, what are you all just standing there for?” he spoke, breaking the iceberg.

“Huh?”

“Standing still isn't going to bring back [Name].” He stood there, staring at the crowd.

He was right.

They needed to get back to searching for Lady [Name]!

A chorus of ‘yes, sir!’ was heard before a horde of housekeepers and butlers left in search of their Lady.

“*sigh* Why are you like this [Name]...?” Cale whispered and looked up. He slowly walked to the exit of the manor heading to the town; the children followed after him–this included Choi Han.

“Master Cale, where are you going?” Hans asked.

“I’m going to the market area in the town,” he said, not bothering to look back. “Ron, make my bed as comfortable as you can make, will you?”

“Yes, young master.” Ron responded.

“Great.”

…

Lovely day for [Name] sitting in the shade of an umbrella and her delicious foods. Going from one shop to another, she had managed to gather a lot of food. She had gone overboard again, yes, but the baby she was carrying and her were happy. Who could ever disturb such happiness?

“[Name].” A male voice called her name firmly from behind.

Of course. The only person that could was her husband. [Name] knew he only meant good, but right now he had broken that tranquility.

“Oh! Cale, love, darling, how are you...?” [Name] turned and looked at him nervously. The children had gathered around her–with Raon being invisible naturally.

“[Name]...” Cale rubbed the temples of his face before sighing, “why are you out?” he asked sternly.

“Well clearly, I was taking a walk. And I bought some snacks on the way.” She answered, petting both Hong and Raon while On made herself comfortable in her lap.

“What–no. That’s not what I meant.”

“You asked why I was out, and I told you why.”

“You know exactly why I asked that.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” [Name] gave the children the treats she had bought earlier.

“[Name], please. You know how dangerous it is for you to be here right now. You are due at any point now! And I just…agh..I just want you to stay safe.” He said in frustration.

[Name] looked at him, feeling a bit guilty that he is like that. She had reached her ninth month a week ago, making this month the most crucial. She just didn’t want to stay locked up in her room all the time. It was something that did not sit right with her.

“I’m sorry…” [Name] looked down in shame.

“I…*sigh* You are going to be the death of me.” Cale came closer to her and placed his hands underneath her.

“Hu-huh? Cale? What are you doing?” panicking a little before realizing he was going to carry her.

“Carry you, obviously.” He scuffed. “We’re going back to the manor.”

“Aww…can’t we go to another shop? It’ll be the last one, I promise!” Her begging went to deaf ears. He wasn’t letting her get away with it, so she started to wiggle her way out his arm.

“Stay still, will you?”

“Not until I get my last treat.”

“*sight…* Fine. But you’ll have it after dinner. Dinner is going to be served soon.” Cale said while walking to the nearest candy shop.

“Mmmm, I'm fine with that. Oh! Choi Han, hello. Sorry, I didn’t notice you there.”

“It’s fine lady [Name].” Choi Han gave her a small nod.

“Moooom…I want a treat too!”

“I also want one!”

“The great Roan Miru will get one too, right?”

“Wait a second. Since when do they call you mom?” Cale asked in confusion.

“Yes, yes. All of you will get one.”

“Don’t ignore me.”

Choi Han giggled as Cale continued to ask and get ignored by them.

Fin

𝚃𝚊𝚐𝚜: @lureslutes, @cruzerforce4256, @narcise63, @potterhead-whovian-117, @margieee194, @zenix108, @vimenorie, @lunavixia, @potterhead-whovian-117, @alithurism, @matchalyne, @minteaspoon, @dontknowhowtousethis, @valacz29, @rainalovesouya, @vimenorie, @lunavixia, @ru8yx. Re-blog or Comment if you want to get added into the Tag section for Lout of Count's Family updates. Back to Lout Of Count's Family Master-List

Master-List

#cale henituse x reader #cale henituse #trash of the count's family x reader #trash of the count's family #lout of the count’s family #lout of the count's family x reader #reader input #x reader #manhwa x reader #totcf #manhwa #manhwa fanfic #choi han #ron #deruth henituse #hans #raon miru #on and hong

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pedrospatch · 2 years ago

Text

weakness

Post Outbreak! Joel Miller x Female Reader

summary: An afternoon at Bill and Frank’s place takes one hell of an unexpected turn for you and Joel when hidden feelings start coming to the surface.

warnings/tags: 18+ ONLY, MINORS DNI. BOSTON QZ ERA JOEL. AGE GAP (reader is in her 20’s and Joel is in his early 50’s). mentions of reader having longer hair/her hair gets brushed, reader wears a dress, no specific mention of reader’s size, but there is a brief mention of the dress fitting loose on her, Frank is sweet and makes her feel pretty, Bill is a grump, Joel is kind of soft, hidden feelings. dashes of angst, fluff, and an abundance of Frank being an absolute angel.

MOODBOARD FOR AESTHETIC PURPOSES ONLY. NO MENTION OF RACE OR BODY TYPE.

word count: 5.7k

“Can you stop fidgeting for just one second, please?” Frank scolds you lightly, bringing down the palm of his hand onto your shoulder in a small, quick slap in an attempt to get you to stop squirming. He then moves his hands back up to your hair, which is out of its usual braid and towel dried after a much, much needed wash. The sickeningly sweet scent of the floral shampoo you’d used in the shower earlier that afternoon lingers deliciously in the air around you, a refreshing and welcome change from what your hair normally smells like—grime and smoke from hours of work detail in the Boston QZ. After coming out all of the stubborn tangles that he can find, Frank then picks up a boar hairbrush and he carefully begins to run it through your locks. He starts from the roots of your hair and brings the natural bristles down, all the way through to your ends. He chuckles and says, “You know, I would be done a hell of a lot quicker if you would just sit still.”

You sigh softly, but impatiently, allowing yourself one final, uncomfortable little shuffle in the white wicker chair he has you perched on before finally giving into his request. “Alright, alright, I’m sorry,” you mumble You bring your knees up against your chest and exhale another small sigh. You can’t see his face, but you can picture the smug, satisfied smile on Franke’s face as he continues brushing your hair. “So, tell me again why we’re even doing this?” you question him just a minute later, as if he hasn’t already explained it to you about a hundred times—he wants to do something special for you. “It kind of seems like a complete waste of time, don’t you think so?”

“We’re doing this because you deserve to get dolled up for once in your adult life,” Frank states in a matter of fact tone. The world had ended when you’d been about seven years old, and he’d imagined that since then, you’d never done a single damn thing for your appearance—besides the occasional at home haircut you would give yourself every few months with an old pair of rusted shears. He’d have been absolutely right about that. “And besides, it’s something of a special occasion today,” he adds. “It’s the first day of spring. The weather outside is stunning, our flowers are finally in full bloom, and we have a nice outdoor lunch planned to celebrate the new season.”

You can’t help the way the corners of your mount turn upwards into a small smile. One might think it was all rather silly, given it was the end of the world and all, but you have to admit, you admire the way Frank manages to find genuine happiness and joy in the little things, like warm sunshine on the first day of spring. Or showing a friend what a proper hairbrush looks like. He has such a beautiful soul, something that very, very few people in this new world possess.

“Your hair is so healthy,” Frank observes a few minutes later, setting the hairbrush aside. Taking two handfuls of your hair from the front, he twists them gently and brings them around to the back of your head. He then secures them with a clear, elastic band and runs his fingers through your soft locks, maneuvering your hair until it cascades perfectly around your shoulders. Frank walks around your chair to face you, fussing until he makes sure that every stand is neatly in place. He smiles. “You should wear your hair down more often, you know. It really suits you.”

“Long, loose hair and work detail are a recipe for disaster,” you laugh, shaking your head at him. “Most of the work sites in the zone require anyone who has longer hair to keep it tied back, anyway.” You push your legs out away from your chest and plant your feet firmly on the floor. “Listen, Frank. I really do appreciate what you’re trying to do for me. I really do,” you swear. “It’s incredibly sweet, but there’s really no point. In just a few hours, Joel and I are going to have to head back into Boston where my hair goes back into its braid and I have to change back into my normal clothes.”

“Exactly. So how about you just zip it and enjoy this while it lasts?” he suggests with a tiny, cheeky grin.

“But Frank—”

“Honey, this is a fight you simply aren’t going to win, so hush. Now, come with me.” He takes your hand, pulling you out of the chair and up to your feet. “Close your eyes,” he instructs, and with a reluctant sigh, you do as you’re told. Frank leads you over towards the full length mirror in the far corner of his and Bill’s bedroom. “Okay. One, two, three—open your eyes.”

Your eyes flutter open and your mouth parts slightly in surprise.

“What the fuck,” you murmur underneath your breath, taken aback by the reflection in the mirror. The young woman staring back at you, she looks absolutely nothing like you. The hair, the hint of blush on your cheekbones—the color he’d found was one one that flatters the tone of your skin—and the thin coat of decades old mascara that he’d applied to your eyelashes; the tube had been bone fucking dry, but Frank used a few drops of water to bring it back to life, swearing up and down it was fine to put near your eyes. And then there was the dress, the goddamn dressed he’d force you into. His favorite part of the makeover and your least favorite.

“Wait until you see what I found for you to wear,” he’d told you, giddy as if it were him who would be donning a new outfit. “You’re going to love it!”

Skeptical, you had asked, “Am I though?”

Frank had gone to the boutique and found you a dress to wear, and while it was just a tad loose on your frame, he insisted that it would look just fine on you with the help of a safety pin hidden at the back of it, pulling the fabric taut. It was simple enough, white with a subtle sweetheart neckline and thin straps that tied together at your shoulders. The delicate lace fell down in a flowing skirt to just a few inches above your knees and it itched like hell, especially at your sides. Wanting to add a finishing touch to the outfit, Frank had brought you a pair of brown, strappy sandals and he’d let you know that he had a couple of different color options for a cardigan in the event it became too chilly outside.

“You look perfect,” he gushes. “Like a daydream!”

You look different. But that isn’t what brought on the shock. More than anything, you’re completely taken aback by how fucking normal you look.

Sure, coming over to Bill and Frank’s always gave you a temporary sense of normalcy. They always allowed you to take a hot shower, gave you the opportunity to properly wash your hair and change out of your dirty shirt into a new clean one. They always provided you with a warm meal presented on porcelain dishware that wasn’t stained or chipped like the shit you had back home in your crumbling apartment in Boston. You’d had several tastes of normal thanks to those two, but this drastic change to your appearance was overwhelming. Too overwhelming.

You’d never thought that you could look like this, not in this fucking lifetime.

Frank immediately picks up on your emotions, senses how you’re feeling. Standing behind you, he places his two hands on your shoulders and leans his head forward, pressing his cheek against yours as his kind eyes meet your tearful gaze in the mirror. “You look absolutely beautiful,” he whispers, giving your shoulders a gentle squeeze. “I really hope you feel beautiful. You deserve it. You deserve so much more, but if I can at least give you this much, then my mission is accomplished.”

You open your mouth to speak, but words fall short. Afraid that you might burst into tears on the spot, you clamp your mouth shut and give him the tiniest little nod of your head accompanied by a quivering smile of gratitude.

Frank smiles back. “Good. Now, come on, let’s go out front and have lunch.” His hands fall from your shoulders and he ushers you out into the hallway and towards the staircase. Looking over his shoulder, he gives you a wink. “I’m really eager to see what your man thinks of your new look.”

“What?” you sputter, almost tripping over your own two feet. “Who—you mean, Joel?”

Shit. You’d almost forgotten about Joel.

What the hell is he going to say when he sees you like this?

What’s he going to think?

Probably that you look utterly fucking ridiculous, that’s what.

“Who else would I be talking about? Bill?” Frank snorts. “Yes, I’m talking about Joel.”

You glare at his back. This isn’t the first time Frank has teased you about Joel Miller, and despite the countless times you’ve sworn to him that there was nothing going on between the two of you, he insists on believing otherwise, adamant that there has to be something more there. “Don’t start with this shit again. He is not my man, and you damn well know that.”

“He might as well be,” Frank shrugs his shoulders nonchalantly as he leads you down the staircase.

“Frank, I’m being serious,” you say. Normally, weren’t so uptight about it all, but today, you’re not finding his antics amusing in the slightest, not while you’re wearing goop on your face and sporting a fucking dress. “I’ve told you a million times that there is nothing going on between me and Joel. He’s my partner.” You pause briefly, realizing how that must have sounded, and add in emphasis, “He’s my work partner. We work together, Frank. We smuggle shit together. That’s it.”

Frank stops at the bottom of the staircase and turns to you, letting out a curious hum. “Hmm. And if I remember correctly, you two also live together, you sleep in the same bed together, you spend every waking moment from sunrise to fucking sunset together—I have never heard of two work partners being that close, sweetheart.”

Stubborn, you shake your head. “He’s like fifty!”

“The world ended and that’s your concern? An age gap?” he questions. “Really?”

“Frank,” you plead his name, groaning. “I swear it. We’re nothing to each other. Joel is—well, he’s Joel. He’s not exactly the type of man who does that. You know, feelings and shit.”

He throws his head back slightly, letting out a loud laugh that echoes through the foyer of his home. “Oh, trust me. I know that much. Between you and me, I have to say that he reminds me a whole lot of Bill,” he muses. He notices the horrified expression that crosses your face and laughs again, holding up his hands in defense. “Wait a minute, just hear me out. They’re polar opposites in some ways, but in most ways, they’re almost the same fucking person. Joel is just like Bill. Cranky. Grumpy. He hates everyone and everything. Kind of man who’ll stab someone if they so much as look at him the wrong way. Would you say that’s pretty accurate?”

“Yeah, sounds like Joel Miller,” you have to admit. As much as you did not want to think of Joel being the same person as Bill, Frank had a pretty good point.

“But Joel also reminds me of Bill because he’s the kind of man who means well when it comes to the people that he cares about. The kind of man who will do whatever it takes to protect what is his,” he further explains. He pauses and then asks, “Let me ask you something. You trust him, right?”

You don’t even miss a beat, answering, “Of course. With my life.”

He ticks his index finger at you. “Aha! Exactly!” he exclaims. “You know that Joel would never let anyone lay so much as a finger on you. He’d never let anything bad happen to you. And why is that?”

You stare at him blankly, unsure of how to respond. “Is this a trick question?”

Huffing, Frank rolls his eyes and lets out a disappointed sigh, as if you’d missed the obvious. “It’s because you mean something to him, sweetheart. Whether you choose to let yourself believe it or not, you mean something to Joel Miller.”

For a moment, it feels like all the wind’s been knocked out of you.

Could Frank actually be right?

Do you actually mean something to Joel?

No, that was impossible. Joel Miller doesn’t give a shit about anyone or anything—all he cares about is surviving long enough to find Tommy again one day, and even then, he never speaks of his younger brother too kindly. He’s been hardened by this world, closed himself off, put up a barrier around himself that nothing can permeate. Not even you.

“Under that tough, rugged exterior, there’s a soft spot. It’s there, for you and only for you.” Frank’s eyes glimmer, speaking a truth he’s been wanting to tell you for the better part of the last several months. “You might need to do some digging to find it, but it’s there.”

“I just don’t understand why you would think that,” you confess, shaking your head. “Joel has never said anything to me to indicate that I mean something to him. More often than not, I find myself wondering if even considering us to be friends is too generous.” You cross your arms over your chest, growing uncomfortable under his knowing stare. “Yes, Joel looks out for me, but that’s only because we work together so well. I know my way around. He needs me, especially if he plans on getting to Tommy.”

Frank bites his bottom lip, stifling another laugh.

“What? What’s so funny?”

“Oh, sweetheart. You don’t even realize it, do you?”

Your eyebrows knit together, confused. “What? Realize what?”

“You are his weakness.”

He’d said it so simply, and yet there goes the rest of your air leaving your lungs, an invisible first driving itself right into your gut.

“Of course Joel isn’t going to tell you how he feels about you. He’s afraid,” Frank remarks, sounding so sure as if he had been told that by Joel Miller himself.

“You’re wrong. Joel isn’t afraid of anything,” you counter in the steadiest voice you can muster. “You’re wrong, Frank.”

“He’s afraid because he knows how dangerous it is, having a weakness in the form of a person he cares about more than anything can be in a world like this.” Any trace of teasing or playfulness had disappeared from Frank’s expression. He speaks gently, but with purpose, with such seriousness that it makes your heart sink further and further down into the pits of your stomach.

When you speak again, your voice is strained, thick with emotions you’re trying so desperately to shove down. “Frank, you really need to put down the fucking romance novels.” Before he can say another word to you about it, you place a hand lightly on your stomach. “I’m really hungry. Can we go eat now? Please?”

Thankfully, he gets the hint to drop the subject.

“Of course. Come on” Frank takes your hand. He opens the front door and leads you outside and onto the freshly landscaped front lawn. He had been right, the flowers were in full bloom—the small, round table he’d set was positioned in a perfect spot so that no matter where anyone sat, they would have a view of the colorful roses and azaleas he and Bill had planted around the perimeter of the yard.

As soon as he sees you two approaching, Bill throws up his hands in a dramatic fashion. “It’s about goddamn time!” He grouches loudly. “Jesus Christ, Frank. I’m fucking starving!”

“Sorry, got caught up inside.” Frank tosses his partner a sweet smile as he releases your hand. “But look, I found myself something pretty!”

Heat floods your cheeks. You should have known better than to think he wasn’t going to make a fuss about your new appearance. “Frank, please. Don’t.”

“Oh come now, you know I have to show you off!”

Joel, whose back had been turned towards you, furrows his eyebrows and he glances over his shoulder, looking to see what Frank was referring to. His dark brown eyes widen just ever so slightly, the grip around his glass of red wine tightening in complete surprise at the sight of you. Frank had failed, quite miserably, to convince him to dress up for the occasion, but at the very least, he’d talked him into wearing one of the nicer shirts he'd found at the boutique, a neatly pressed, sage green button up with long sleeves that, much to Frank’s chagrin, Joel had rolled up to his elbows. His graying, dark brown curls might have even had a comb run through them, but it;s difficult to tell if the way his thick locks were effortlessly disheveled was natural or the result of his efforts to tame them.

“What do you think, Joel?” Frank beams proudly, as if presenting the man with one of his painted art pieces.

Joel doesn’t respond. His eyes remain glued on you, following as you walk around the table and take your usual place beside him.

“Way to put me on the spot, Frank,” you mutter, your face growing warmer and warmer with every second that ticks by. You silently urge yourself to get a grip as you reach for the crisp, white cloth napkin next to your plate and drape it over your lap. The smoked, wild rabbit Bill had cooked up for lunch smells heavenly—Frank knows it’s your absolute favorite dish, and so he had made sure Bill put it on today’s menu, bless his heart.

Joel still hasn’t uttered a single word. Part of you hopes he wouldn’t.

“Joel?” Frank prompts as he picks up his own cloth napkin. “Doesn’t she look pretty?”

You glare daggers at him from across the table and hiss, “Frank!”

Finally, Joel sets down his glass of wine and turns slowly, angling his body towards yours. When he speaks, his voice is low, but clear as day as he looks at you, “Yeah. She looks very pretty.”

His eyes flicker up to meet yours, causing your heart to skip a beat inside of your chest and a strange warmth to bloom in your belly.

Had he actually meant that?

“You look real nice,” he adds, giving you a subtle nod of his head. He lets his sights linger on you for another moment before tearing his gaze away. He then turns back to the table, picking up his glass of wine once again, chugging what’s left of it before reaching for the bottle to pour himself another.

Bill clears his throat roughly. “Well, if everyone’s done playing dress up, I’d really like to fucking eat now.”

Meals with Bill and Frank were always pleasant.

Well, meals with Frank were always pleasant.

Although Bill had gotten used to having you and Joel over as guests and didn’t see either of you as a threat anymore, he still preferred to keep you both at arm’s length, a choice you two respected. He hardly ever said much and often chose to let his partner do all the talking unless the conversation had anything to do with trading supplies. Only then would he step in.

As you’d tucked into your meal of wild rabbit and garden vegetables, you could feel Joel throwing subtle glances your way every so often. It was half expected that he would, seeing as he’d never seen you like this before. He was so used to seeing you in tattered, dirty old clothes with dirt and grime caked onto your skin and in your hair.

Surely, he must have felt like he was sitting next to a complete stranger, not his smuggling partner.

About an hour later, once everyone has finished eating, you offer to help Frank clear and clean up the table and wash the dishes. He settles for letting you help him bring everything inside, but shoos you away before you can even think about lifting another finger. “Don’t worry, I’ve got it,” he says, waving you away from the kitchen sink with his hands. “You and Joel are taking off in just a couple hours, so go on and get some rest,” he suggests. “Oh, by the way, we found some new books to add to the collection. Might find something you like. Go ahead and check them out.”

“But I forgot my library card at home,” you joke lamely, although it earns you a sincere laugh from your friend. You pad out of the kitchen and into the living room, straight over towards a grand oak bookshelf that is packed tightly to the brim with dozens and dozens of books of various genres. You hadn’t been all that much of a reader before, but thanks to Frank, who always sent you home with at least two or three works in your pack, reading had become one of your favorite hobbies over the last few months, a sweet little escape that took you out of your shoddy apartment in the zone and into another world. You start searching the titles for the new finds he’d mentioned. Spotting one of them, you pluck it from the shelf, a paperback titled, A Midsummer Night’s Dream. Opening it up, you begin thumbing through the pages, quickly realizing that it’s play—you’ve never read a play before. Still not convinced if it’s one you would like to take home with you, you flip back to the first page and start reading with a curious little hum.

You had been so preoccupied with it that you hadn’t noticed Joel standing behind you, leaning against the doorframe with his arms crossed over his chest until he clears his throat, and asks, “Find somethin’ good?”

Startled, you whirl around, nearly dropping the book in your hands. “Jesus Christ, Joel,” you breathe out, clutching it tightly against your chest as your heart rate slows. “Don’t sneak up on me like that!”

“Not my fuckin’ fault you were too busy with your nose buried in a book,” he states, trying his hardest to fight the small smirk threatening to cross his lips. He uncrosses his arms and pushes himself away from the doorframe.

A chuckle escapes you, almost nervously, as he slowly starts walking over towards you, his brown boots heavy on the hardwood floor. He takes the book from your hands, humming as he reads the cover. “Shakespeare, huh?”

“You know Shakespeare?” you toss him a teeny, lopsided smile as you tease, “He from your time?”

Joel lightly smacks your arm with the worn paperback. “Yeah, I know Shakespeare and he was about four hundred fuckin’ years before my time, thank you very much.” He flips it over, eyes skimming the text on the back. “Had the world not gone to shit, you would’ve grown up and spent your entire middle school career being forced by English teachers to read all his shit and write essays tryin’ to interpret it all.” He hands it back over to you. “Here.”

“Sounds like a real fucking dream,” you deadpan. You glance down, running your index finger down the spine of the book. You’re trying, almost painfully, to ignore how Joel’s eyes glaze over you from head to toe.

“Y’know, it’s kinda nice,” he remarks quietly, breaking the brief moment of silence that had fallen over the two of you. “Seein’ you like this.”

You keep your eyes fixed on the book and scoff. “What? In a dress?”

“When we’re here, you let your guard down. Ain’t always lookin’ over your shoulder. You smile a hell of a lot more.” He pauses, then adds, “You look happy here. Sure, this dress looks nice on you. Your smile looks even fuckin’ better, though.”

Your breath hitches in your throat. More than his words, it’s the genuine tone in which he had said them—you’d never even realized Joel noticed things like that. Whether you were happy or not, how often you smiled. Or didn’t smile.

You force a small chuckle. “It’s the only sense of normalcy that we get. Of course I look happy when we’re here. Because I am happy when we’re here.” Still refusing to meet his gaze, you turn around and walk over to the couch towards your pack. Opening the top, you quickly shove the book inside.

When you hear Joel’s footsteps coming up behind you, you stiffen slightly.

“Frank, he adores the hell outta you,” Joel says. He seems to hesitate, but then continues, “You ever think of askin’ him to stay here?”

“You kidding?” You snort in response. “Bill wouldn’t allow that. Never.”

Joel’s hands go to his hips, knowing you had a point. “But you know Frank can convince him of almost anythin’, don’t you? And besides, believe it or not, Bill actually likes you. He loves Frank more than anythin’ and you make Frank happy.”

You finally turn around to face and find yourself caught off guard by how close he’s standing to you. “Joel, what exactly are you getting at?” You raise an eyebrow before playfully asking, “Are you trying to get rid of me or something, Miller?”

Joel quickly shakes his head. “Of course not. All I’m sayin’ is that—” He stops and lowers his voice, just in case Bill or Frank happen to be wandering nearby. “I like seein’ this side of you. The happy side. The normal side.” He shrugs his shoulders, the lean muscles of his upper body flexing with the movement against the smooth fabric of his shirt. “Seein’ you all cleaned up, well fed and content—” He trails off once again. “Shouldn’t be a rare occurrence, y’know? You’d clearly be better off here with them and you know that with Frank’s help, we could probably talk Bill into letting you stay.”

The second you realize he’s being serious, your smile fades.

“What? But what about you?”

“Darlin’, Frank’s good, but he’s not a goddamn miracle worker. Even if he tried, that’s not somethin’ Bill would ever go for,” Joel admits, lifting a hand and raking his fingers through his hair. “And even if he did, we’d fuckin’ kill each other by the end of the first week.”

Bill and Joel being neighbors?

Talk about a different kind of apocalypse, you think to yourself.

“I know that much,” you reply with a tiny eye roll. “What I mean is, do you honestly think that I would leave my life in Boston?”

“That ain’t no fuckin’ life—”

You hold up a hand, stopping him. “I know it’s not. But it’s my life with you, Joel.”

The rough creases on his forehead suddenly soften. That was the first time you’d ever seen that happen.

The scowl on his face wasn’t permanent after all.

“Yes, this is nice. This patch of town, this house, the running water, the food, the clothes—this is a decent life. More than decent. In this world that we’re living in, this place is heaven. But without you, all of it would mean absolutely nothing to me. I wouldn’t be happy here, not without you.”

Joel tilts his head back, shaking it lightly. “Think about what you’re sayin’ here.”

“I know what I’m saying.” Before your brain and your body can even make the connection, you find yourself taking a step towards him, shrinking the gap between your bodies even further. You glance up at him, somehow finally finding the courage to have your eyes meet his. “I refuse to leave your side, Joel. That’s never going to happen. Not if I can fucking help it. Do you understand that?”

Joel exhales the breath he’d been holding, his warm breath tickling your face.

“I mean it, Joel. We’re in this shitty ass fucking world, together. No little slice of heaven could ever get me to leave you behind, no matter how good it is,” you declare, silently wondering to yourself where the hell you were even finding the balls to confess all of this to him. “Okay?”

“You’d be safer here than in the QZ, with all that shit’s that been goin’ down—”

“I’m the safest when I’m with you, Joel. I know I am.”

You lift your hand to his face. At first, there’s minor hesitation on your part, but you will yourself to place it on his cheek. Although your touch is gentle, Joel can’t help but wince. Not because he doesn’t want you to touch him, but because it had been so fucking long since anyone had ever touched him like that.

Since he’d let anyone touch him like that.

He closes his eyes and after a second or two of resisting, he finally allows himself to relax his tense muscles and he sinks into your touch.

Joel lets himself savor the feeling of your hand on his face. His bottom lip gives a subtle tremble when you softly start to graze your thumb down along his jawline. His beard, which you often playfully tease him about now that it’s beginning to gray just like his hair, feels rough and scratchy, and yet somehow still soft underneath your fingertips.

“Hey,” you murmur, and he forces his eyes to snap open. “We’re in this together. That’s how it’s been and that’s how it’s going to stay,” you assure him. “My place is with you, Joel.”

Joel manages to speak through tight lips, his voice strained. “You really fuckin’ gotta stop talkin’ to me like that, darlin’.”

You carefully move your hand away from his face, letting it drop back down to your side. “Why?”

“‘Cause. Shit like that is dangerous.”

“Dangerous,” you repeat, almost laughing. “Of all the things—”

Then, Frank’s words from earlier come to mind.

He’s afraid because he knows how dangerous it is, having a weakness in the form of a person he cares about more than anything can be in a world like this.

Joel’s dark eyes flicker to the strap of your dress, noticing it had started sliding off your shoulder. Before he can even think to stop himself, he reaches out and pulls it up back into place, his rough, calloused fingers brushing against your smooth skin. “You’re so soft,” he murmurs under his breath. All those fucking years of working with you, even sharing a bed together, and he had no idea of what it was like to touch you.

“Joel…”

Your heart had all but climbed up into your throat.

“Everythin’ you just said a minute ago, ‘bout not wanting to stay here without me,” he starts to say, “I know that it’s fuckin’ selfish of me, but I’m real glad you said it. ‘Cause no way in hell do I want a life without you. I know it’s wrong but—”

Placing your hands delicately on his shoulders, you lift yourself up on your toes and cut him off mid-sentence by pressing your lips softly against his. The clean scent of the soap Frank had given him to shower with fills your senses and you yearn to have more of him, you nearly ache to get a real taste of him—but your courage only went so far. Thankfully, Joel knows to take over from here. One of his arms snakes its way around your waist, pulling you flush against his chest while the other reaches up, the warm palm of his hand pressing against your cheek. His tongue swipes lightly across your bottom lip, silently asking for permission to explore your mouth just a little bit further.

You eagerly grant him access, half expecting his mouth to ravage yours.

Much to your surprise, Joel remains gentle.

The way that he kisses you, the way he holds your body against his, the way his large hand—the same hand that slits throats and breaks bones—delicately cradles the side of your face like you’re made of porcelain.

“Joel,” you nearly whimper his name when he breaks away.

His face remains just inches from yours.

“Fuck,” he mutters, leaning his forehead against yours, fighting to catch his breath. “We’ll need to get goin’ soon.”

“I know.” You nod, hoping you don’t sound as disappointed as you feel. You can sense that Joel, much like yourself, is at war with himself over what had just happened. Not that either of you regretted it, at least you certainly don’t, but the realization that you two have just crossed a line you’ll never come back from was daunting.

Joel lifts his head, lightly pressing his lips against your forehead. He then forces himself to release you from his arms and steps back, dropping them back down at his sides. “I need to, uh, I need to go get some things from Bill. Y’know, get my pack ready before we take off.”

You nod again. “I’ll start changing and get another pack of supplies ready as well.” You pause, clearing your throat awkwardly. “Joel, about what just happened—”

He silently shakes his head before leaning down, capturing your mouth with his.

This kiss is short and quick, and when he pulls away, he says nothing. He turns on the heel of his boot and disappears, heading out to meet Bill in the garage.

Your hand flies to your mouth, your fingers lightly touching your lips.

“Well, well, well.”

Looking over your shoulder, your throat goes dry when you see Frank standing there, hands on his hips and a knowing, smug expression on his face.

“How long have you been standing back there?”

“Long enough.” Even from a distance, you catch the amused twinkle in his eye. “What did I tell you?”

You turn away from him, biting your lower lip.

So maybe he’d been right after all.

Maybe you were Joel’s weakness.

But he was yours too.

#joel miller x you #joel miller imagine #joel miller x reader #joel miller fic #joel miller #joel miller angst #joel miller fluff #tlou fanfiction #tlou imagine #the last of us fanfiction #the last of us fic #joel miller pedro pascal #pedro pascal imagine #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller x y/n #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x female reader

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gladiatorcunt · 10 months ago

Note

Feral feral Anakin fucking you every second of the day because he can’t get enough of you and is overly obsessed

send me coryo, luke castellan, or anakin asks (this is a threat)

implied canon compliant prequels and childhood friend afab royalty reader (basically in padme's place) based on an upcoming fic

This is canon Anakin behavior actually, he's like a big dog with his favorite chew toy. The dog obviously loves the toy a lot but it's because of his love that the toy becomes well used. No matter how tattered it becomes, the dog will still curl around it and spend its days licking the hell out of it until it withers away.

I think that because of how he grew up, just a little boy on some ball of sand whose life really didn't belong to him, as soon as he's free from that he just unravels. I love Anakin being written as more unhinged or even slightly like an eldritch horror, because suddenly he has this big destiny laid out in front of him and the tethers holding his soul together inevitably come unhooked. I think that he's wired like that from the beginning, very passionate but without a means to express it.

So, when he meets you, little royal heir with all the stars of the galaxy in your eyes, he tells a familiar story about an angel and from then on, it's over for him. Every moment of his life orbits around the sun in his solar system, you.

The first think he thinks when he sees you again, is how your moans would echo off the windows when he eats you out on one of the couches. Then he imagines your perfectly manicured hands clawing delicious ribbons down his back while he rabidly pounds your sopping wet pussy against the wall of your huge walk-in closet in your apartment. He'd have to hold a hand over your mouth, but he wouldn't do a thing to clean up the slicks that drips out of your pussy onto the floor. You'd pout as you'd rush to get ready before Obi-Wan came back, and all he'd be able to do in response is hook his chin over your shoulder and smile.

"No, it's because I'm so in love with you."

You're leaning against a balcony overlooking a lake in Naboo and all he can think about as he strokes a shy finger down your back is hiking your dress up and bending you over it. You're chained to a pillar in between him and Obi-Wan, and when all is said and done, he wishes he killed everybody that was relishing in your suffering in that arena and fucked you with their blood coating his body. He could go on forever until the last grain of sand on Tatooine flies away. He'd have gotten you barefoot and pregnant immediately if the leash around his neck was any looser.

No matter the fantasy or the moment, you always have at least one mark on you. He's not patient enough for hickies and his fingers move too quickly for any serious bruises to form on your body. He favors bite marks, near perfect impressions of his teeth etched in your soft skin. He doesn't bite to tear, just does his repeated 'chomp!'s without a single thought in his head; your thighs bear the brunt of it. Anakin likes when drops of blood bead at the surface of the bites, because then he can lick the bites soothingly. You usually have to run your fingers through his hair to get him to come back to himself when he starts doing it on autopilot with his eyes rolled back.

"Yes, yes, yessssss.... love fucking my cunt, missed making love to my sloppy pussy. Taking my dick so well, keep breathing with me, my love. That's it, just like that."

His way of saying good morning is languid strokes deep in your guts. His way of saying good night is crazed thrusts that have him putting it back it when his frenzied pace causes his length to slip out. He has is so hard sometimes, determined to carry the entire galaxy on his shoulders with you on top of it. You can the rising anger that builds within him when everything he does to prove himself goes unrecognized. The best way he has to ignore all of that outside responsibility is knocking your sweaty body up the bed while you're clutching the headboard for dear life.

Anakin's emotions bleed from him so openly, and all you have to do is drink them in. Because even though he wasn't free when he met you, you owned him them with his gift around your neck. You own him now, your cervix kissing his mushroom tip in its own display of affection. He is supposed to live his life with the intention to be the force's son, but he is burning to ash faster than he is fulfilling his destiny; at least he can keep you and your future children warm.

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klaus-littlestwolf · 6 months ago

Note

flynn rider aemond being tied up with rupanzels hair and he gets hard abt it lol

Innocent rupanzel has never seen a man so she starts to experiment around him

First was spot the difference, what constitutes as a man and woman, only to find his half hard cock and this makes her wet

and she takes all her frustrations out on his dick

Is This…Hair?! -Yandere!Aemond T

Important A/n:Must Read (Dark)

Okay so this one is DEFINITELY DARK. Y/n is the epitome of innocence, she’s lived in the tower her whole life, only ever read the books that her “Mother” got for her and she didn’t have any clue that men even existed.

She is clueless because when she asks her “Mother” questions she gets beaten, she learned very young to just do as she was told.

The first thing Aemond realized as he woke up was that he was unable to move, opening his eye he saw a circular room, but it had everything a house needed. A small kitchen, living space, too few bookshelves for his taste, then there were stairs leading up to what he assumed was a bedroom. Just as he looked down to try and free himself there was a voice that came from…above him?

‘Don’t try to escape, you’ll never get out!’ A girls voice spoke and Aemond looked up, seeing what looked like a girl hiding behind one of the beams near the ceiling.

‘Look, I’m sorry I just broke into your house but I was in a bit of trouble. I won’t hurt you Darling, please won’t you let me out of…Is this…Hair?!’ He was stunned as he finally figured out what the soft texture of the “rope” was.

All at once the girl leapt down to the floor, controlling her descent with it, not harming herself a bit it seemed. ‘Have you come for my hair?! Mother always said someone would! I didn’t believe her but…She was right to lock me away up here.’

Aemond instantly found himself thinking about how gorgeous this girl was, she was absolute perfection made into human form, not one single blemish aside from the bruise on the side of her face that looked like someone had slapped her pretty hard. His thought then trailed to the idea that she had been up here her entire life with no one to talk to, never able to leave…what kind of a mother would do that to her child?

Then again, who is Aemond to judge? He’s not a good man, never has been and never will be. Hell, he’s tied to a chair with a hot girl inspecting him and he is unable to control his own cock as it swells in his breeches.

‘Have you been up here your entire life?’ He wondered as she stepped a bit closer, now about 5 feet away.

‘Of course! The outside world is dangerous, mother says there are monsters everywhere!’ He could see how scared she was a he felt for her a bit. She had never experienced anything that is good in the world, just kept inside and naive, too innocent for the world around her. Aemond had never been innocent, as long as he can remember he was alone, having run away from the orphanage he grew up in when he was 11 he fended for himself fairly well.

‘Honestly you are describing almost every guy I’ve ever met, though they’re not all bad. I’m not a bad guy, I don’t want to hurt you. I only came here to hide.’

‘What is a “guy”?’ She asked and Aemond felt his jaw drop. What had this girls mother done to her?!

‘You…you don’t know what a guy is?’ She shook her head. ‘A guy is a boy, it’s the opposite of a girl, you are a girl, I am a boy or you could say that you are a woman and I am a man. You know the old stories of a man and a woman falling in love and living happily ever after?’ She shook her head.

‘What is love?’ Once again he was stunned by her naïveté but he half expected this one. However this one gave him an idea…Aemond loved her innocence, craved it and here it was for the taking. If he took his time, he was confident he could own this girls soul if he wanted to.

And he Desperately wanted to.

‘Come closer and look at me, I won’t try to move, I promise. Just see our differences and you’ll understand.’ She cautiously crept closer until she stood before him. ‘Touch me, you know what you look and feel like, now feel me. It’s okay, go on.’ She hesitated, unsure about this stranger. ‘Hey, what’s your name, hmm?’

‘R-Rapunzel.’

‘Wow, that’s a beautiful name. My name is Aemond, okay? We know each others names so we’re friends now, no reason to be nervous sweet girl. Now, come sit on my lap and look at me.’ Rapunzel must have thought his explanation to be a sound one because a moment later she plopped herself into his lap and reached up to touch his face.

‘Your face is scratchy.’ She giggled, rubbing over the stubble.

‘There’s a reason for that. When a man and a women love each other they play games together just for them, the rough stubble on my face will make my future wife happy.’ She looked to be considering that but didn’t ask before touching the eyepatch and looking curious.

‘Did someone hurt you Aemond?’ He nodded and she took the eyepatch off to see a large sapphire where his eye should be. ‘You’re so pretty.’ She stated, touching over his scar gently before running her hands down his jaw to his neck and over his chest which was flat and hard unlike hers. ‘That’s different…’ she admitted, looking down at her chest to see where it is much bigger than his.

‘You can look if you’d like, men have hard, flat chests, usually with defined muscles. Women have breasts-‘

‘Why?’ She questioned as she began unbuttoning his shirt, though she was unable to pull it off with her hair in the way.

‘They’re for whatever man she falls in love with to touch and suck on, they’re also for feeding whatever babies a man and woman have together…you can untie me if you’d like. I promise, I won’t move a muscle until you want me to. I want to help you understand this, it’s an important life lesson that your mother is wrong for not telling you about.’ Rapunzel considered this, he hadn’t been fighting against her despite him being able to hurt her in his lap so, why not?

She hopped up and began untying Aemond from her hair but once she did, he did not move at all other than to gesture her back onto him.

‘No, try the other way. Put one knee on either side of my legs, you’ll be able to see me better.’

‘Oh…that’s smart!’ She smiled and Aemond wanted to see that smile on her face everyday for the rest of his life, he wanted to see her smile up at him while his cock is buried into her virgin tight cunt for the rest of his days on this Earth.

He couldn’t hold in the groan as she began rubbing his chest so delicately, he was in heaven already and he still knew he could take so much more. ‘Do you need help untying your dress? So that you can compare better, of course.’ She thought for a moment before nodding her head and allowing Aemond to untie the back of her dress and pull it down her arms and all the way to her waist. Her breasts weren’t overly big, they were petite and cute, perfect in Aemond’s eyes, though his cock twitched when he considered what they would look like swollen with milk atop her belly swollen with his child. He was no longer half hard, he was fully erect and leaking against his breeches. ‘Can I show you something?’ She didn’t hesitate to nod this time as her breathing was becoming a bit faster, she was getting excited and that is exactly what Aemond needs, now he just needs to make sure that she’s as wet as she can be.

He leans forward and kisses her chest between her breasts before pressing his jaw to her skin and hearing her gasp at the scratchy sensation against her sensitive skin which was instantly made stronger as he moved over her nipple. ‘Oh God! Do-D-Do that again! Please?!’ She whined and Aemond chuckled, doing as she asked and as he did her hips moved against her will making her feel something against her Kitty. She was going to ask what it was but all thought flew from her brain as Aemond wrapped his lips around her other nipple and suckled gently. ‘Ah-Oh! Aemond that feels…it-‘ her hips were grinding down on him once again but she didn’t care anymore, the sensation rising in her belly felt too good to stop. ‘Don’t stop! Please?! I-I need…’ Aemond wrapped one of his arms around her waist, adjusting his hips and began helping her grind down on his length harder as he licked over her sensitive nipple, sucking even harder and twisting the other between his fingers roughly. She threw her head back as she came, her body shaking at the intense orgasm but Aemond kept up his attentions on her until she came back down.

‘That felt good, didn’t it?’ She nodded, face now in his neck as she breathed heavily. ‘It made you feel good right down here.’ He stated, cupping her pussy and making her whimper at his attention. ‘This is your cunt, or your pussy, and it is so special…do you know why?’ She shook her head as she sat back again to look at him. ‘It’s special because it can make you and the man you love feel so amazingly good.’

‘How do I know if I love a man, Aemond?’ He smirked, unable to help feeling successful at this moment.

‘That really good feeling I just gave you?’ She nodded. ‘That means I love you, it means you are the only girl in the world for me. Now if you can make me feel like that too then that means you love me. It would mean that we are meant to be together…does that make sense?’

‘Yes…what should I do to make you feel good?’ She asked him and he took hold of her legs and lifted her against him, moving them both over to the couch and laying her down.

‘I just moved you here so that it will be more comfortable for you, I don’t want my Princess in unnecessary pain, do I?’ Her eyes widened and she smiled before shaking her head. ‘I’m going to show you the biggest difference between a man and women, alright?’ He sat back on his knees between her legs and unhooked his belt before pulling his pants down enough for his cock to slap against his stomach and he saw her eyes widen as she looked at it. ‘You can touch it if you want to, just be gentle.’ She sat up a bit and reached out to wrap her hand around it making his head fall back as he groaned. ‘This is my cock, and it’s very sensitive. You can make it feel so good for me just like I made you feel.’

‘Show me how! I wanna make you feel good too Aemond.’

‘Such a sweet girl you are, fuck! You can make it feel good just stroking it if you want, or you can put it in your mouth and suck on it, that feels incredible.’ He stopped her from moving to put her mouth on him making her pout which he found adorable. ‘The thing that makes a man’s cock feel best though, is when it’s inside a tight little pussy like yours.’ Her eyes widened in surprise before looking back at his cock.

‘I don’t think that will fit Aemond…’

‘Of course it will pretty girl.’ He promised, laying her back and kissing her cheek gently. ‘I love you, and you love me, I already know it. Now I’m gonna make the both of us feel really good, okay? Do you trust me?’ She hesitated a moment before realizing that she does which prompted her to nod her head. ‘That’s my good girl. Now this is going to be uncomfortable for a moment, maybe even a tad bit painful but I promise it will pass quickly, alright? Then you will feel nothing but pleasure.’

‘Okay…I trust you.’ There’s a small part of his brain that feels a bit bad taking advantage of her like this but if he didn’t then someone else would and they would probably be 10x worse than him. He’s going to make her feel good for the rest of her life, and she’s going to give him all the pleasure and babies he could ever want. It’s worth it any way you look at it.

‘Just relax for me.’ He instructed as he pulled her panties down and tossed them aside, pressing his cock against her hole and pushing into her gently. He didn’t stop until he bottomed out before he leaned down and pressed his lips to hers, kissing her softly and taking her mind off of the discomfort. She kissed back happily, following his lead and eventually he felt her relax. ‘There you are pretty girl.’ He pulled his hips back, pushing into her again slowly which made her whine as it clearly felt good. ‘Such a good girl, letting me fuck your little pussy. So fucking good Princess!’ He moaned as he rocked back and forth, picking up the pace a bit at a time before she was a panting, mewling mess as he drilled his cock in and out of her as hard as he could. ‘You feel so good for me baby, making my cock feel so fucking good! Such a good girl!’

‘Don’t stop, please? Feels-ah! Never want you to stop…’ she whined, pulling his head down to kiss her again which he happily did.

‘Gonna fuck you like this all the time Princess. All day every day, this pussy was made for me! Your body was made for me, made to take my cock! Oh fuck, I’m gonna cum! Gonna fill you up so good baby!’

‘C-cum?’ She mumbled and he just grunted as he buried his face into her neck.

‘Cum, remember how good you felt before? That was cumming. Gonna cum inside you, fill you up so deep! You’ll never want to be empty again, and I’ll never leave you without my cum.’ He could feel her pussy squeezing around him suddenly as she cried out and he fucked her through it before thrusting harder and making her look up at him. ‘Tell me what you want.’

‘I want you to cum…want you to cum in me and feel so good!’

‘Tell me…tell me you want me to put a baby in you!’ He grunted, so close and desperate to hear her say it, knowing she would do anything he said at this point.

‘Yes! Fill me up! Put a baby in me, please? Want your babies!’

‘Oh Fuck! FuckFuckFuck!’ He pushed his cock as deep into her cunt as he could physically get before he came, shooting everything he had up into her womb. ‘Good girl, gonna have my babies. God, I love you Princess-fuck!’

‘I love you too Aemond…you feel so good…’

‘That’s right Princess. You’re all mine now, all fucking mine.’

Aemond “Tangled” Moodboard

Aemond T. Masterlist

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vaguely-concerned · 17 days ago

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I think there is no better illustration of the more intimate, internal angle veilguard chooses to approach its characters and themes with than the fact that like... listen in this game we get to follow so much pain back to its source, and we find it really does permeate everything in thedas today on a level that evokes a kind of cosmic horror. the bones of the earth itself are broken open and drenched in trauma; the world is mired in suffering down to the core and the marrow. as above, so below. as outside, so inside. on the big scale, and the small. all of creation is a throat gone to bloody shreds from screaming in agony, when you allow yourself to listen. (maybe that's why we usually don't, or can't, bring ourselves to listen.)

...and yet the thing that makes me personally so desperately gnaw-my-own-arm-off sad that it feels like I could die from it is that in a run where you save minrathous, lucanis never gets out from the ossuary in his mind. what's worse, no one even knows he's in there. he's still in there. and there is no rescue on the way, because he's locked down so deep inside himself this time that there's no way for anyone to even understand there's a need for it. would he be able to welcome one, if someone did realize it and tried to reach him? You know him -- you can open the door, but he won't walk through. He won't move. There's nowhere to go. the way he says 'it doesn't matter what I want' with such utter, leaden, final resignation in the wrecked treviso cutscene is going to haunt me forever. it makes perfect sense to me you can't romance him after that, I'm not sure he's ever really here completely in that version of events, at least within the timeline the game takes place. he's just standing in the shitty awful ossuary torture room all alone, and no one's coming to find him.

and what is that, next to the millennia of suffering screaming through all of history and creation? well. nothing, of course, not really. a single plucked string in an endless deafening symphony of despair. one singular trapped and broken soul among the untold millions that have gone before and the untold more that will surely come after, that are being made as we speak in the conflicts and tragedies unfolding through the game. but more importantly it's also everything. to me. and to the game too. the game says this also matters. just as much as anything else, this pain matters and deserves to be loved and comforted. even in the face of all the suffering in the world, beneath the systems perpetuating all the banalities of evil, for good or for ill sometimes, we matter to each other. and what would be the point of anything, if we didn't? that's where hope lives. as long as you're alive, the right key might still arrive to gently open the locks of your mind, the right hand might reach out one day and you will bring yourself to take it. you don't know what tomorrow's going to be. if in the meantime the only thing we have to gain in staying is each other -- isn't that enough? isn't that everything? why does this one guy saved mean the world saved to me, a little bit? hello. hello. hello. there's stuff going on in the deep here.

when I say that the deep thematic spine of this game is so good and solid that the occasional clumsiness and false tones of the writing on top of it simply cannot hurt me... I think this is part of what I mean. works for every single one of the characters of course! lucanis' is the predicament that speaks to me most viscerally. for. uh. personal reasons there simply is no time to get into at this juncture lol. but just as much the idea that davrin can die before he could see the world freed from the blight and the need for wardens, or that harding can get cut down right at the beginning of a great revelation that could change everything and heal things no one had even dreamed could be healed. all of them are like this. each and every one of us has a world and so many stories inside that matter, and it's not to dismiss the larger systemic forces and evils that create so much of the suffering in the world to focus in on that for one installment of the series -- only to view it from a different angle that brings other things to light than what we're looking for normally in this series. it's worth looking at what's actually here.

(have you ever heard the poem 'good light' by andrea gibson? it's very good. you should check it out if you haven't, you can find it on youtube. it has these lines:

Come make it count Our finding each other like we found God Come root for the salt Come believing we can heal it all, even everything Even everything that has ever been done I know how much the pain of this world weighs But I can still tip the scales in light's direction Whenever I have your name on my tongue

and yeah. I think that's basically what I'm trying to say here.)

#dragon age #dragon age: the veilguard #dragon age: the veilguard spoilers #dragon age spoilers #lucanis dellamorte #dragon age meta #every day my da:tv is in many ways da2 2 thesis grows stronger lol #I finished the game for the first time last night and already my neurons are doing. this. god help us all I guess

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disneyprincemuke · 1 year ago

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5 times * mv1

there are five times max almost caught himself saying he loves you, and then there's the time that he finally let you know

pairings: max verstappen x horner's niece!reader

warnings: i... don't know?

notes: yes, i'm making a comeback because i've gotten back into the mood of writing (i'm single) and because f1 has got me screaming, crying and throwing up. also, this took me 3 days to write, and i have grown attached. lmk if you guys want the counterpart (basically the same concept, but it's from your eyes???)

one.

"fucking," max cuts himself off, grabbing the closest thing to him. lucky for him, and his team, it's just his racing gloves, "bitch!"

it's just so infuriating to be so close to that podium. he crashed with 5 laps left of the race. his left rear decided to fail him stupidly near the end, after he'd poured his heart and soul to get on that podium. but here he is, moping in his driver's room.

after constantly being in the scrutiny of the public, especially with the way he handled losing, he'd resided here immediately. there's a bubbling anger rising up from him. he's so infuriated.

until a soft knock lands on his door. snapping him out of his thoughts, he knew what he wanted this time. "please leave me alone."

"okay. but christian just wants to know if you're alright." your voice sounds small. he could barely hear you with the door in the way.

he takes a deep breath, then walks over to the door. it reveals you with a hesitant smile on your face.

but he's always had a soft spot for you. all of the anger he'd been feeling merely 5 seconds ago dissipated. "oh. you're not in my room at the circuit often."

"i know. i'm sorry to intrude." you look down at the ground, your often confident self absolutely nowhere to be seen. "christian sent me to check in on you. i'll leave you alone, but i can't go back without an answer."

for starters, you're not a stranger to the signature max verstappen temper. but never has he directed it at you once. it's surely raised the eyebrows of christian horner the first time it happened when you joined the team.

one second he was all over the garage, only rude words coming out of his mouth. the next, he was silently raging as he sat on the tire of his car while you discussed dinner plans with your uncle.

"please, don't worry about it." he takes a step back, gesturing for you to enter the room. you do just that, although a bit hesitant. and he doesn't blame you for that. "come in."

there's a moment of silence between you two. for a moment, the engines from the cars outside start to die down, and the frequency of the fireworks is slowing down, and there are more footsteps in the gravel that surround the trailer.

"i'm okay." he leans on the massage table in the middle of the room. he still hasn't changed out of his race suit. his helmet, balaclava and gloves are all thrown in different directions of the room. they had all been victims of his uncontrollable rage.

it's apparent that he's not even close to being okay. he just has to bank on the fact that you don't probe with more questions.

"it's okay if you're not," you answer in a gentle tone. a soft audible sigh passes your lips as you sit on the couch in the opposite side of the small room. "it's just you and me. i'm not part of your racing team."

his eyes do the speaking again. the heaving of his chest is enough to tell you that he's actually contemplating it. without another moment's hesitation, he starts to go at it. all of the emotions he's been feeling lately, the frustration from just being 5 laps shy of being on that podium.

he's just ranting, throwing his hands in the air while he paces all over the room. he makes a mental note to find a way to make it up to you after this - you're just sitting there patiently, nodding your head empathetically while he talks.

it’s as if you knew and understood all that he’s talking about.

"it's just unfair! i did everything right this time!" he exclaims, hands clenched up into a fist. "i should have been up there! i deserved to be on that podium!"

there's one more thing that bothers him. you. whatever he feels for you. the way his heart races whenever you're around, or the way he's always thinking of the way you fix his hair for marketing promotion material - he can't get you out of his mind. for years, now.

he'd met you when he was 18, fresh into red bull racing as christian's new prodigy. he had only seen you a total of 15 times within the span of 3 and a half years. the transition from crumbs of your presence to full-out spending the whole racing season with you was more than his heart could handle.

now that he's gotten to know you better, the 22-year-old is almost convinced that he might actually have feelings for you. "and-"

he looks up from the ground, flinching back slightly when you're staring directly into his eyes from across the room. your eyes dart down to his hands and it's only then he notices how his hands are clenched into fists next to him.

he almost slipped up about his feelings for you. good thing he caught himself at the last second. his chest heaves as he looks at you, shoulders tensed up and eyebrows furrowed.

you raise an eyebrow, slowly nodding. you make a gesture with your hand to encourage him to continue saying whatever is on his mind. "and?"

"and," i have feelings for you, "it's just so unfair."

he feels his body melt at your stare. his shoulders slump, his breathing starts to regulate and his hands slowly unravel from a fist. it's just so unfair that he's so hopelessly smitten with his principal's niece.

"i know." you push yourself off the couch and walk over to him. stopping just a few steps from him, he looks at you sigh. "i'm sorry that it happened to you, max."

then a small grin slowly stretches his lips. the race is over - there is absolutely nothing he can do to change the result. he shrugs, "it's just racing."

"you can still feel angry about it," you grin, "it's just me."

max shakes his head with a soft chuckle. "i know. it's okay; i'm okay."

you drop your head slightly. max knows you don't buy his lie. of course, he's still angry about what happened. but there is still some truth to what he said - he got unlucky today with the car.

you take a deep breath. he's caught completely by surprise when your arms spread out, taking a step forward and engulfing him in the warmest hug.

he catches a whiff of all your scents - your shampoo, your perfume, and creepily enough, the soap you use for your clothes. and he completely basks in your embrace, his arms wrapping themselves around your smaller frame. his neck rests on your shoulder, silently straining his back just to take you in.

"i know you're not," you whisper. you lean your head into his as you rub circles on his clothed back. "i'm here for you, okay?"

and he wants to say it to you. he gets an inkling, after you just spent the better part of 20 minutes letting him scream about his feelings, that this is bigger than himself.

"i," he trails off, arms tightening around you. he closes his eyes, repeatedly reminding himself that he's not willing to risk it. he releases the breath he's been holding. "thank you."

two.

max can barely keep himself upright in the seat. he's clutching onto his balaclava, eyes following the light shone into his eyes as per the doctor's request.

he had a bad crash with lewis during the race that sent him flying into the walls. he blacked out for a couple of seconds, and he's been in pain since they escorted him to the medical centre.

there's a soft knock on the door, before he hears the creak followed by footsteps. "i'll be back with results, okay?" the doctor straightens up before walking away from him. he acknowledges the presence of someone new, then proceeded to walk out of the room.

the relief max immediately felt when he sees you standing shyly by the door, hands clasped together.

"are you okay?" you ask softly, slowly making your way over to him. "i came as soon as i heard what happened to you. that was horrible, what happened to you."

he tilts his head at you, ignoring the strain in his neck and the pounding in his head. "as soon as you heard?"

you chuckle, glancing down at the floor in what could only be described as embarrassment. "i was in the bathroom taking a piss when geri ran in yelling for me," you admit.

your eyes roam his body, your eyes matching the empathetic stares of everyone he has looked at since he was helped out of that stupid car. he hates it. he hates being on the receiving end of those stares, but it was strangely comforting coming from you.

"are you alright? do you have any more injuries?" you ask. you look at him, hands hovering above his hand that rests on his knee. max gives you a small nod of consent.

"it's just a concussion, from what i can feel," max admits. though, it hurts everywhere. when you crash into a wall at that speed and black out, it's definitely going to hurt everywhere that it can.

he's watching you intently. you're lifting his sleeves to scan for bruises and moving about the neckline of his race suit to look for any injuries. there's a tingling sensation that you leave behind as your fingers graze over his now exposed skin.

"i'm okay."

"i don't buy that at all," you scoff. you reach over for the empty plastic chair and pull it to his side. you take a seat. "i'm glad you're okay. i was really worried something bad had happened."

he smiles. the way you care for him never fails to make his stomach churn and his heart start to race. "it could've been worse. i'm glad it's just a concussion i've got."

you turn your head to look at him. god, he wishes he can just take you in for an embrace and reassure you that he's perfectly fine. because he is. it's just some body aches - nothing he hasn't had to go through before as an athlete.

"i'm sorry about the race." you take his towel into your hands and fold it up. you gently tap on his face, wiping away the sweat that had formed on his face. "let me know if you need anything, okay? water, ice... food..."

"i will handle," he grins, his gaze following your hands' movements. "thank you, though."

you don't say anything. you just smile at him as you put the towel back down on his knee. you rest your hand just above the damp material and tilt your head at him. "how do you feel, though?"

"g-"

"about the points," you cut him off. "it's a close fight for the driver's championship. how do you feel about that?"

he shrugs, pouting his lips out. you widen your eyes at him as you anticipate the next thing coming from his mouth. "it's just racing. i'll come back next weekend."

you roll your eyes and lean back into the chair. both of your eyes are on the tv, watching the broadcast of the race together. "i believe in you. there's still a long season ahead of you."

he moves his eyes to look at you. not his head fully - he doesn't need you catching him stare at you. your unconditional support for him just made him want to jump for joy.

thought, sometimes he does wonder if you're only doing it because you work for the team. but other times you're just so believable that he thinks it's him as a person you're rooting for.

and god, he wants it to him so bad.

"it feels like forever - this pain," he admits. without thinking, his hand instinctively reaches forward. he puts his hand above yours. he squeezes your hand.

he sees you shake your head. you manoeuvre your hand. now your palms are touching. he could have sworn it was the concussion making him see and feel things when you intertwine your fingers.

if he were to be honest with you, he feels like this could the lowest point of the season for him. that rear failure earlier on felt minuscule compared to this crash. deep down inside, there's a fear that there's no coming back from this.

you squeeze his hand, slightly tighter than he had done to you just a few seconds prior. "i wish i could make it better. i'm sorry, max."

your voice wavers as you speak to him. and it kills him that you’re so worried for him. he does have a healthy support system, as much as the public wants to make it out that he’s too cold for that.

max wants to reassure you, just as you'd done with him. but he doesn't even know how to do that. your presence now, while he's still slightly out of it from the crash, is enough to put him at ease.

he sighs, squeezing your hand once more. it's at the tip of his tongue. if he could just convince himself to say it to you.

yet, he settles with, "you're the best."

three.

max leans back into the wall, arms folded over his chest. the strobing lights, the music bouncing off the walls, and a plethora of bodies surround him.

next to him, sebastian is deep in conversation with daniel. a conversation that he had tuned out of a few minutes ago. when he found you on the dance floor, terrorising alex and lily with your dance moves.

if you asked him, he would've told you that you're a natural at many things. dancing, unfortunately, is not one of them.

his silent pining comes to a halt when he meets lily's gaze from across the room. a knowing smile on the girl's face, he feels his cheeks heat up when she drags alex down to whisper something in his ear while pointing at max accusingly. alex turns his head in max's direction and his body shakes with a laugh.

great. they've caught on.

alex nods and raises his eyebrows at max teasingly. alex glances at you, shocked to find out that you've managed to shimmy your way 5 metres down the dance floor to now terrorise george and carmen.

max smiles to him, watching alex bend over backwards to get your attention. it's proven a challenge when you sandwich yourself between them.

when alex manages to finally get your attention, you just smile at him. you hand him the empty glass in your hand and grab carmen's hands. it's a wonderful sight - alex struggling to get your attention. but when he did, max swears his heart skips a beat.

because you lean into alex, listening to what he says into your ear. alex points in his direction and your face lights up when your eyes meets his.

you stride across the room and push yourself through the crowd. before he knew it, you're staring up at him with a toothy grin and wide eyes.

from the corner of his eyes, he notices sebastian and daniel have stopped their conversation. across the room, lily and carmen have flagged their boyfriends down. all eyes are on the two of you.

"what are you doing here all by yourself? you should be out on the dance floor celebrating!" you shout over the music, tiptoeing slightly to meet max's height. "you just won a race!"

"i'm good here, thanks!" max laughs, moreso at your state. your cheeks are puffed up and your lips are swollen. even your voice sounds damaged from all the screaming you've done. "enjoy your evening, please! don't worry about me!"

you shake your head in urgency. "no! you have to celebrate!"

he continues to look down at you, genuinely considering if he should let your persuasion tactics work on him tonight. who is he kidding; he can never say no to you.

"okay, but i'm driving us back to the hotel. so no drinks for me." before he could finish his sentence, you've managed to yank him off the wall. your hand has a firm grip around his wrist as you guide him through the crowd towards the bar counter.

"we'll get a cab!" you stop right at the bar and turn around to look at him. "you won the race today! aren't you excited? are you not at least a little bit prideful that you're leading the driver's championship again?"

max supposes you have a point. he should be excited. here he is in his 6th year in formula 1, being so close to clinching the world champion title for the first time in his life. it's just one night, right?

he can't possibly let you be more excited for his achievements than himself. that's just not right. did he not believe in himself?

he watches you prop yourself up on the bar stool, carefully telling the bartender your order. max's hands hover over your body, just in case you'd fall.

once again, you have managed to make his heart race by putting so much emphasis on his achievements. he's made his way onto the podium several times now that it seems almost mundane for him to end up there.

he wants the next big thing; he wants the world championship title. but why exactly is he waiting a whole few months just to celebrate again?

"come on, max! let loose a little. you don't have to wait for the season to be over to celebrate," you answer genuinely. for a moment there, max almost thinks you're sober. "if you don't want to celebrate your small wins, at least let me do it for you?"

he huffs. you're a lot more convincing when you pretend to be sober, after having downed a couple glasses of cocktails.

you tilt the unscrewed bottle of beer towards him, a freshly mixed glass of cocktail in your other. "congrats on winning the race today, max. i'm so proud of you."

max takes the bottle out of your hands. he willingly taps the neck of the bottle onto the rim of your glass. "cheers," he grins, watching you excitedly sipping away on your mojito.

if he could guess, you’re 6 glasses in. you’re definitely going to regret it in the morning.

you swiftly intertwine your fingers with his and start to pull him towards the dance floor. "let's go celebrate!"

you stop abruptly, your cocktail almost spilling all over your dress as he plants his feet into the ground. you squeeze his hand and look up at him shyly with your chests almost touching. even in the sea of people in the club, you managed to make it feel so intimate.

just you and him.

can he really excuse the words threatening to slip out of his mouth with half the bottle of beer in his system? can he just say it without you remembering it the next day?

but you beat him to saying something. "i'm so proud of you, max."

he smiles, letting a small breath out. he squeezes your hand. "thank you. you're the best."

four.

it's upsetting, really, not having you in the paddock all weekend. what you'd thought to be a simple itchy throat from all the sweets you've consumed had turned into a covid scare. you're isolated in the hotel, albeit having tested negative, already better.

the team couldn't risk getting either driver contracting a sickness. especially not max, a clear contender for the title this year.

max has not seen you since tuesday. the photos of him on the red bull racing social media platforms are just not as good when it's not you taking them. nobody else on the marketing team ever tells him his hair is a mess. neither do you - you always just reach in to fix his hair for him.

max huffs, adjusting his shirt as he stood in front of your hotel room. the small bouquet of flowers suffocate in the grip of his hands. a plastic hangs on his fingers.

the lock clicks. the door is slowly pulled open. there you are, in all your glory. your hair is up in a ponytail, you're in your pyjamas with juice in your hand. your eyes widen. "max! what are you doing here?"

with flowers in his hands, there's really only so many excuses he can make up. he tilts his head and his eyes narrow down. he's searching his brain for an excuse - something that doesn't scream the fact that he is hopelessly in love with you. "um..."

he stays in the hallway of the hotel, and you stay inside with your hand still on the door handle.

when he had gotten off the race track, alex had celebrated with him. at some point, max expected someone to bring it up. it just shocked him that it had taken this long.

alex gave him a firm pat on the back as they strolled the paddock after media commitments. and the question finally came up. "so are you ever going to ask (y/n) out?"

the question should not have even shocked him in the first place. he had been sitting around waiting for someone to ask him this. nevertheless, he was still dumbfounded by the question.

he started explaining - how he can never get around to asking you out. you're christian's beloved niece. first of the next generation. christian even introduced you as the daughter he had to raise before he ever thought about having kids of his own.

and alex gave him the weirdest stare. because everyone on the paddock could easily tell max had feelings for you. he didn't do much to hide it either. it'd apparently been so bad that even toto wolff sneaks around the paddock with questions if there's been progress.

and so, here he is, standing in front of your hotel room after having won his home race. when he managed to escape his pr manager, he took a shower and immediately bought flowers, some food and came straight to you.

he missed you all week.

"max?"

his answer comes out in a ramble. if you hadn't spent so much time with him, you probably wouldn't have understood. but in your week of absence, the driver doted on you with video messages, voice messages and pictures. endless updates with the grid, the drama, the placements.

anything to make it feel like you were still there with him.

"can i take you out on a date?"

his heart races. beads of sweat form on his forehead. the hallway, that had once felt so icy suddenly became so warm.

"what?" your jaw drops, eyebrows are raised in shock. the silence is deafening.

is this some kind of sick prank alex is pulling on him?

immediately, max goes into defensive mode. "i mean, it's okay if you don't! i just thought if i don't shoot my shot now, then i'll never know. i won't take it personally!" he lifts up the plastic filled with tupperwares of food. "i even brought you supper!"

you scoff with a laugh bubbling up from your stomach. you leap up from your spot, throwing yourself onto max. you lift your feet off the ground. his available arm wraps around your waist to stabilise you. his other arm, already busy with gifts for you, darts out to hold the door ajar.

and what does this mean, exactly? max verstappen has never been one to take these things for an answer. he needs is in black and white - in the clearest of clarifications.

"yes, of course!" you squeal into his shoulder. okay, now he can celebrate. it had taken you a solid 10 seconds in a tight embrace before you decided that the hotel's hallways were too exposing for your liking.

finally, he lets you guide him into the hotel room. he can't stop the wide grin forming on his face either. by the looks of it, neither can you.

"right. these are for you," max finally says, holding out the bouquet of flowers to you. "and i'm sorry i'm late. i could have gotten here earlier if it weren't for alex and lando fighting me over what flowers to get you."

your eyebrow raises, willingly receiving the flowers. "you were in cahoots with those two?"

"and george," max shrugs simply, scrunching up his nose. "but he was easier to deal with than those two."

you smile, if it's possible to get even bigger than what's already there, as your fingers lightly graze over the petals of the flowers. max simply stands back while he watches you admire the brightly coloured bouquet.

he's confident about one thing that night: what kind of flowers to get you. so when lando and alex were fighting him over which flowers to get you, they were simply debating over the roses.

but he is in the netherlands. what else could have been the right choice of flowers but the tulips? and he's in an expensive sport, after all. it would be so uncharacteristic of him to undermine the way he felt for you.

long story short, he got the most gigantic bouquet filled with striped tulips. he spent 150 euros. that's not even near the amount he knows he feels for you.

if you asked him for the world, he'd simply exhaust every single resource he has to give it to you.

"thank you so much," you coo, finally looking up at him. you lean in, pressing a firm kiss to his cheek. and he will absolutely spend the rest of his night thinking of this exact moment.

this is quite possibly the furthest he's gone with you. and he almost slips up again. he should've just said it, but he's just not quite sure he should. it's just going to scare you off.

"oh! and, congrats on the race win today," you cheer before pressing your lips against his cheek again.

max grins. he doesn’t know why he put it past you. you’ve made it clear you’re going to be his biggest fan. “oh, you watched the race?”

you’re gently laying the bouquet on top of the table in the corner of your room. “of course. it was a brilliant race. i'm so proud of you."

he just squeezes your shoulder. "thank you. you're the best."

five.

in his dark hotel room, the tv illuminates your face as your eyes lock on the movie you've chosen. it's the only way max can see your face. he'd love to be able to pay attention to this movie, but how could be when you're all tangled up with him.

"are you scared?" you suddenly mutter. your first words in almost 20 minutes, almost making him question if you're making conversation because you're falling asleep.

"what?" he's genuinely dumbfounded with the question. he glances at the tv, curious if he had dozed off long enough for you to choose another movie. but no. it's still mamma mia playing. "we're watching a musical."

max watches your body heave up, then down. "for tomorrow."

he tenses up. he's been trying his hardest not to think about it at all, actually. since he'd finished up his evening with media commitments, he just went straight to you in the garage office. he packed his bags and took you out to dinner.

he's secured pole position for tomorrow. he didn't want to think of anything else right now.

he doesn't want that stress passed on to you.

max hums, suddenly feeling an interest in the musical. it's meryl streep singing abba, after all. how can he not be any more interested? he shrugs. "okay, i guess."

he avoids your eyes. all eyes and remaining attention of the evening is on the actress belting out a song. and it's rudely interrupted when you pause it.

you stumble around, propping yourself up to your elbow to give him a stern look. "okay?" sometimes max forgets you're now his girlfriend. he forgets that he doesn't have to put up a front to shield you from his real emotions. "what do you mean 'okay'?"

he sighs. he turns his head back to face you, almost flinching at the glare you're giving him. he clears his throat as he pushes himself up against the arm of the couch. he sits cross-legged and you mirror his posture. he shrugs again. "i can't overthink it now. i just have to do my best tomorrow."

you throw your hands up in the air, scoffing. "what?"

max is at a loss for words. what response, exactly, did you expect out of him? "what?" he says back, hands also thrown up into the air. from the amount of time you've spent around him on the race track, he expected you to know his mindset when stepping into a race.

he can't overthink it before he even gets on the track. in fact, there is no room for that at all.

you resign to the other end of the couch and fold your arms over your chest. you even pull your feet back, not wanting to be in the range of his touch.

"(y/n), i don't know what you want me to say, darling," max responds gently. he's slightly annoyed, yes, but he doesn't want that to triumph your relationship. "you know the clear mind i need to get into a race. if i overthink, that's when it's over for me."

you roll your eyes. "no. it's just you and me. there is absolutely no way you have no opinions about the race tomorrow. not even a single thought? seriously, max?" you tear your eyes from him. "i'm not christian."

max sighs. he scooches over to you on the over end of the couch. though you squeeze yourself further into the armrest away from him.

he huffs, wrapping his arms around you. he pulls you in and presses a kiss to the top of your head. "of course, i have a thought in my head about the race. but if i let it get to me, darling, it can cost me the championship."

you hum, but there's a hint of annoyance. though, you give in. because you drop your head back on his shoulder and pout. "okay, fine. race your heart out, max. i just know you've got this."

he gives you a slight squeeze. a weaker one compared to others. honestly? he's terrified of screwing up tomorrow. he just wants that title so bad. all his life, he's worked for it.

he's simply afraid to let christian down. more importantly, he's afraid to let you down. though his handful of mental breaks about being so close to the final race of the season, you'd reassure him that you'll always be proud of him no matter what.

it's just not enough for him.

the movie starts to play again. you coddle up into his lap and he rests his cheeks on your head. i love you.

thank you, you're the best.

max has not been able to get the ringing out of his head since he crossed the checkered flag. he has not been able to think straight since then.

he just won his first world championship title. he's on his knees, his head resting on the tire. all 58 laps, all he could think of is how is he going to win? how will the season play out?

he finally lifts his head, dropping himself back to sit on the track of the abu dhabi track. he groans loudly, almost into a scream, as he unclips his helmet. he yanks it off his head, then his balaclava almost immediately.

he is feeling so many things.

then across the barrier, he sees you. eyes filled with tears, hair pulled back into a ponytail, in your very own red bull racing uniform. his stare down with you doesn't last long. christian is quick to yank you away.

and he spends the next 5 minutes scanning the crowd for you. sure, he wants to celebrate with the people that made it possible for him to even be there in the first place. but there is you.

"max!" your voice makes him whirl around. a sigh of relief slumps his shoulder. it's you.

his face lights up at the sight of you. just a minute ago, he felt so drained. he barely found it in himself to walk to his team for cheers. yet here he is jogging towards you.

"world champion, max verstappen!" you scream. you leap off the ground, legs quickly wrapping around his waist.

his arms wrap around your torso, just holding you close to his body. "i'm so proud of you," you cry into his already wet neck. you wrap your arms around his shoulders tighter. "i fucking told you."

he doesn't even know what to think. his mind is in a jumble of thoughts. it's undeniable that you had pushed him to his best this season. just having you there, reassuring him every single weekend. even when he crashed, even when he'd retired out of a race.

your legs slowly drop back down to the ground, and he finally gets a good look at your face. for some reason, you're just as sweaty as he is. the ponytail on your head is falling apart and the makeup running down your face almost makes him laugh.

then the excitement obviously hits you again. because you give him a firm and strong pat on his shoulder. "you proved them all wrong, max! you're a world champion!"

his chin is held high and his chest is puffed out. you'd never doubted him. it almost brings him to his knees how much support you had for him.

max is so full of emotion. the race, the title; you. you jump in your spot and clap, nose scrunching up in delight. "i told you this was your season! i knew it all along!"

and he just blurts it out. "(y/n), i love you."

you don't even hesitate. it's like you'd been waiting around to say it too. "i'm so fucking proud of you. i love you."

#it took me three days to write this #and for what #formula 1 fanfic #formula 1 x reader #max verstappen #max verstappen x reader #max verstappen x you #disneyprincemuke #disneyprincemuke f1 #f1 x reader

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