#what was I saying before?… did I even have a point?

[purinfelix]

── .✦ such a mess together - p. sunghoon

summary: the cute little girl you tutor is always going on about how you should date her smart, good-looking older brother, so why is your annoying, cocky classmate opening the door instead of her? ────── academic rival Sunghoon x reader || sfw, tension, can you tell i love the enemies to lovers trope LOL. || w/c: 3.5k (everyone clap jet is finally writing full length fics !!!)

a/n: ok whos shocked yet another enemies to lovers fic from yours truly - but i cant help that this trope is the most fun to write !!!!!!!

Shocked doesn’t even come close to describing how you feel right now. 

You feel as though if you widen your eyes anymore they’ll pop right out of your head, but the thought of him seeing you make such an embarrassing expression forces you to calm yourself. Slowly, he narrows his eyes, clearly not any less confused about this than you are. 

“The hell are you doing at my house?” he spits, thick brows furrowed as he looks you up and down. 

You’re about to reply with something equally as snarky, but you’re interrupted by a small head popping out from underneath his arm - which is outstretched to hold open the front door. 

“You’re here!” Yeji squeals in excitement, ducking past him to throw herself around your waist. You stumble backwards a bit, putting on her head to steady yourself as you laugh softly. 

“Hey,” you breathe out, though your eyes don’t leave those of the man in front of you, whose confusion only grows. “I’m here to tutor her,” you say curtly,  almost in disbelief that you’d have to spell it out for him this much. 

Though it’s not like you’re in much of a position to say much else because, really, you should’ve put the pieces together a long time ago. Being young and uninterested in her studies, Yeji had managed to spend most of your lessons together chatting about her life instead of doing her homework and so you had been told a lot about her - and her mysterious older brother who was rarely around because he was always busy working part-time or studying at university. At the time, you didn’t think twice about the fact that he went to the same university as you or that the times she mentioned him having exams always coincidentally lined up with yours - though now you’re beginning to think maybe you should’ve. 

Details like that were easy to forget though, especially when Yeji paid far more attention to the other details about her brother which she deemed far more important. You had spent many afternoons passively listening to her talk about how smart, sweet and tall he was, how he was “practically a prince” - all the while trying to get her to finish her algebra questions. You had even brushed it off when she mentioned that the two of you would make a good couple, and how it was a shame you had never met before. 

But Yeji couldn’t have been more wrong, because you actually had met her brother, and far more than you would’ve liked to for that matter. In fact, prior to today, Park Sunghoon had been nothing more than a nuisance in your university life. The one to constantly challenge your points in discussions, to steal your perfect front-row seat or to beat you by a singular mark in final exams. In your eyes, he was nothing but a cocky, good-for-nothing know-it-all who had been unfairly blessed with unnatural good looks which he used to trick your poor female classmates into liking him. 

All the details matched up though, times, places, hell they even had the same last name - but it had never occurred to you to put two and two together. Despite this, the shock of the initial realisation pales in comparison to the fact that you now how to continue with your lesson - whilst he sat in the next room over, glaring at you the entire time. 

You shifted in your seat nervously, eyes darting between Yeji’s exercise book and the strict gaze of her brother. Seriously, just what was his problem? - you’d never done anything to seriously wrong him, and if you did, you figured the fact that you were helping out his younger sister would be enough of a reason for him to let down his guard for once. But still, he sat there, completely uninterested in the video game he had loaded up as an obvious excuse, eyes locked on you. 

The weight of his gaze only made you more anxious and when you brought a hand up to hold your pencil you noticed the slight tremble in it. You couldn’t help but feel irritated, not just at him for being so distracting, but also at yourself for letting him get to you so easily. 

“I think he’s looking at you because you’re so pretty,” you heard a small voice mutter beside you catching you off guard. You let out a small laugh, about to calmly tell her to focus on her work but when you raise your eyes to look at her brother in the next room you notice that, for once, he’s avoiding your gaze, clearing his throat out of what almost seems to be nervousness. 

“Nice try Yeji, but I think your brother just doesn’t trust my tutoring skills.” 

She tilts her head, considering this for a moment - then with the same innocent bluntness as before, she shrugs. "Or maybe he's just grumpy because he got dumped."

A deafening silence falls over the room, and your pencil freezes mid-scratch as you glance up just in time to see Sunghoon's entire expression shift. His eyes widen for the briefest moment before his features twist into something between horror and annoyance. "Yeji," he hisses in warning, eyes shooting daggers at his sister, "shut up."

But it's too late, your interest is piqued and despite the harshness in his tone you can't help the smirk tugging at your lips at the thought of finally having some leverage against him.

"Wait," you say, tilting your head as you look at him, "Park Sunghoon ... got dumped?" 

He exhales sharply, dragging a hand across his face. "It wasn't- I didn't-" he stops himself, visibly irritated at the two of you. "That's none of your business."

Yeji, completely unaffected by her brother's obvious distress, hums to herself as she flips a page in her book. "She was really pretty too, she muses, "but she said he was too emotionally unavailable and always busy with school."

You blink in disbelief, then, unable to stop yourself, you laugh. "Shocking," your tone is dripping with sarcasm.

Sunghoon snaps his head towards you, eyes narrowing as if daring you to continue. "What did you say?"

You press your lips together, feigning innocence, but Sunghoon knows you too well for that and his glare only deepens. And for the first time, instead of just irritating you, the sight of him so obviously affected by your words is a little entertaining.

Interesting you think to yourself as you continue with the lesson, now far too aware of how the tension in the air has shifted ever so slightly. He doesn't move from his spot in the other room, or stop staring at you two, but now whenever you look up at him, instead of being able to meet your gaze he quickly looks away, pretending to be occupied with his game. You can't help but find it just a little amusing. 

Soon your lesson draws to an end and you begin to pack your materials away into your bag, thanking Yeji for working hard and listening to you - though you're interrupted by a deep rumble in the distance, followed by the sound of light rain. By the time you make it to the front door though, it's gotten much heavier and the plans you had to catch the bus home seem bleak. It isn't like you have much choice though, and you pull your hoodie over your head with a defeated sigh.

"You can't walk home in that," Yeji announces dramatically, clinging to your arm as she looks out at the heavy rain. Suddenly she perks up as if met with a great idea, and turns to her brother - who has been pretending not to listen from the living room. "Hoonie, can you drive her?" 

He barely looks up from his phone, though there's a slight delay in his response. "No."

"Why not?" she pouts.

"Not my problem," he mutters.

You roll your eyes, typical you think to yourself as you step towards the door. "It's fine, Yeji, I'll just-"

"You're seriously going to make her walk in this rain?" Yeji cries out as she walks over to her brother on the couch, "What if she gets sick? Then I'll be sad, and when I'm sad I don't do my homework. And if I don't do my homework, I'll fail and when I fail-" 

"Fine," Sunghoon groans, rubbing his temple as he pushes himself off the couch in a swift movement. He walks past you, grabbing his keys and twirling them around his finger coolly. "Get in the car before I change my mind," he says sternly.

You narrow your eyes at him and are about to deny his offer but the rain doesn't seem to be stopping anytime soon, and you're not stupid enough to reject a free ride out of pride alone. 

"Alright," you sigh, shooting Yeji one last thankful look before following her brother out to his car. 

"You live in the dorms on campus, right?" he asks casually. The rain hits the windshields of his car with a harsh rhythm, filling the silence between you two as you get in. The hum of the engine is the only other sound as he pulls out of the driveway, one slender hand lazily resting on the wheel. 

"Yeah," you say curtly, not even stopping to wonder how he could've known that. You're too busy holding a grudge against his ability to make every move seem so gracefully effortless, even turning a steering wheel. 

You sit stiffly in the passenger seat beside him, eyes fixed straight on the road ahead. You'll admit the car is nicer than you expected - spotless, the faint scent of something clean, a little floral, in the air - but you refuse to acknowledge it, just like you refuse to acknowledge that being here, alone with him, feels weirdly intimate. 

It doesn't help that he hasn't said another word since you both got in, not that you were expecting him to, but still - the awkward silence feels heavier than it should. You steal a quick glance at him out of the corner of your eye once the car reaches a red light - only to find that he's already looking at you. 

Your breath hitches for just a second, but you recover quickly in hopes that he won’t notice your reaction. “What?” you huff, raising an unimpressed brow. 

His eyes turn back to the road just as quickly, expression unreadable as the light turns green. “Nothing.” 

You sink back in your seat and the silence resumes, but with its temporary break, you feel compelled to keep up the conversation, even if it means more childish bickering. 

“I hope you don’t expect anything in return for this,” you say, turning to face forward again - but your attention piques once you hear a faint noise from him. It’s something you’ve never heard before, something just quiet enough that you almost didn’t hear it over the drumming rain, but you’re glad you did because you swear you just heard Park Sunghoon laugh. 

"When have I ever expected anything from you," he spits, but the usual malice in his tone is tinged with amusement.

"I'm just saying, don't think that just because you're doing this for me that anything's going to change," you huff, "if it weren't for Yeji you probably couldn't care less about me anyways." 

Sunghoon hums, the corners of his lips twitching as if he's holding back another laugh - he doesn't deny it, which somehow annoys you more than if he had outright agreed. Instead, he just shifts gears smoothly, eyes fixed on the road and you hate the way you find your gaze lingering on his profile for just a little too long.

"You sound disappointed," he muses after a beat.

You scoff defensively, crossing your arms. "Yeah, right." You've always hated how easily he could read you.

He just nods ever so slightly and doesn't press for more but the silence that follows feels a little different now, less tense. You shift in your seat and try to ignore the way your heart is starting to beat just a little too fast or the fact that you're waiting for him to say something. 

After a moment, he exhales, fingers tapping the steering wheel. "For the record," he sighs, his tone almost confessional, "I don't not care about you."

You crane your neck, searching his face for any sign that he's messing with you right now, a glint in his eye, his signature cocky smirk - but his expression is again unreadable. Instead, you watch the outline of his jaw shift slightly, almost as if he regrets his words, but he doesn't take it back.

You swallow nervously, unsure entirely of what to do with this new information. "Good to know," you say slowly, looking away before he can see how much that single sentence has affected you. 

As you do, you're suddenly desperate for an opportunity to change the topic. "How come this whole time I never knew you had a younger sister?"

"Well it's not exactly like you know much about my personal life," he scoffs - and you have to admit he's right.

"I mean, it's not like you're an open book or anything," you reply, "takes me ages just to figure out what you're thinking half the time with that blank expression. It's hard to believe you and Yeji are even related."

"Right because a guy my age should totally be acting like a middle school girl," he nods mockingly.

"You get what I'm saying," you sigh, going quiet for a minute as you think about what to say next. "She looks up to you a lot, you know," is what you land on, trying to balance your tone between sounding casual and earnest. 

You watch as he scoffs, and shakes off your comment with a slight shake of his head. "I'm serious," you say, "she talks about you like you're a superhero or something, even when she complains about you, it's obvious you mean a lot to her."

Even though his expression barely changes, you watch his fingers tighten slightly on the wheel - and the beat of silence before his response is enough to tell you that he's not used to hearing things like this. You find it interesting how even though you're practically complimenting him, he responds as if he's unsettled.

"Whatever, she's young and annoying," he finally mutters - though for the first time, there's no real malice to his tone, only something defensive.

"You're deflecting," you point out. This side of him, the one that's quiet and easily affected by your words, is one you've rarely gotten to see and if you're being completely honest, you're enjoying this far too much to let it go. "I think you like knowing she looks up to you." 

He huffs, clearly growing tired of your prying. "And I think you like hearing yourself talk."

You roll your eyes, but before you can shoot back with another remark, he beats you to it. "And whilst we're prying into my personal life, Yeji mentioned something interesting earlier."

You pause, suddenly wary. "Oh?"

He flicks his turn signal on, voice infuriatingly casual. "Apparently, you remind her of my ex." 

You feel your stomach lurch, followed quickly by a heat creeping up your face. "Excuse me?" is all you can manage to say.

His lips curl slightly, and it becomes clear that he only mentioned this to see your reaction. "Not in looks or anything," he clarifies, glancing briefly at you before focusing back on the road. "Personality-wise, she said you both have a way of getting under my skin."

You scoff, feeling an odd mix of feeling, irritation and something you don't really want to name. "Wow, should I be flattered or insulted?"

"That depends," he muses, "my ex was kinda terrible."

"Seriously?" you gape, shocked at how bold he's being in sharing this with you, "sounds like you're just butthurt from being dumped." 

He actually laughs - fully this time, not just the ghost of a chuckle he let out before. It's still short, and a little quiet, but for some reason it makes your chest tighten.

"Relax," he says, tone laced with amusement, "she wasn't all bad, but she did have this habit of always arguing with me, nitpicking things I did just for the sake of it."

You avoid his gaze, picking up on his signals just a little too quickly. "Sounds familiar," you mutter as you look out the car window at the rain.

You don't need to turn back to know his smirk depends, "Exactly."

The air has shifted completely now. The tension is still there, humming under the surface, but it's now covered by something else - something lighter, more playful, and charged in a way that makes you hyper-aware of how close the two of you are.

Then, just as you think the conversation is over, he speaks again - this time softer, almost absentmindedly.

"But I guess the difference is, I never really cared what she thought of me." 

It's such an offhand comment, something he's thrown out just to fill the silence. But something about it sticks to you, lingering in your mind as you nod, unsure of how to respond, and so you don't.

You spot the familiar sight of the dorms approach in the distance and even though you're compelled to feel relieved that this torturous car ride is drawing to an end - a tiny part of you can't help but feel a little disappointed that this seemingly rare opportunity is ending. Swiftly, he pulls up to the front entrance, parking smoothly and effortlessly.

As you move to undo your seatbelt, he stops you once again with his words. "Hey, I hope you're not going to stop tutoring Yeji, by the way," he's turned to face you now, but his eyes are avoiding yours. 

You furrow your brows, both at his words and his unusual expression. "Why would I?" you say slowly.

"Well, I mean, I just figured because of me and everything-" he begins to ramble, and it's the first time you've seen him stumble over his words like this.

"Relax, I hate you, not her, remember." You say it in the same teasing tone you've always used for him, but it seems to land heavier than you expected with how he turns back to face the steering wheel, his lips forming a thin line.

You linger for a moment, and something about the air between you feels different - like you're standing on the edge of something neither of you can name. Sunghoon's hand is still resting on the gear shift, his fingers drumming against the leather in a steady rhythm. 

"Right," he replies curtly, almost to himself and you can sense just a hint of disappointment in his tone.

You should leave it at that, you know you should. But something about the way he's gripping the steering wheel a little too tightly, or how his jaw is tensed ever so slightly, makes you want to press just a little further.

"Unless," you hum, tilting your head slightly, "you'd actually miss me if I stopped coming around?"

"Yeji would," he replies almost immediately - but you don't miss the way his shoulders go rigid for just a fraction of a second before he speaks.

"You didn't deny it," you smirk.

At this, he finally looks at you and there's something about the way he does it - something heavier than the usual irritation or exasperation you're used to. His gaze lingers, his expression unreadable and for a split second, you wonder if you've pushed too far. 

But then, he exhales, something softer flickering across his features before he quickly pulls them back into indifference. "Just get out of my car before I start charging you for emotional distress."

You roll your eyes, but do as he says, reaching for the door handle and pushing it open just as the rain continues to pour outside.

"See you next time, Park," you say, "and drive safe."

"Don't tell me what to do," he huffs, though there's a playful tone in his voice as he smirks at you.

You return his look, satisfied, and finally push the door shut - watching as he shifts into gear, headlights illuminating the street. You know you should get inside and out of the rain immediately but you can’t help but watch as he drives off, heart thrumming in your chest as you find the beaming smile on your face lingering. You shake your heard at yourself, almost as if to shake away your thoughts, before turning to head into the dorm. 

What you don’t see though, is the way Sunghoon glances in his rearview mirror one last time before turning away, just to catch a glimpse of you before you do. 

[cressidagrey]

The mysterious Mrs. Piastri

We are interrupting our regularly scheduled programming for a Valentine's Day Treat. Remember that video where Oscar was asked "Get married or get a tattoo?" Well, it showed up on my FYP and I was like..:WAIT

Summary: 

Oscar Piastri had always been a calm, collected kind of guy. Unshakeable, even. Lando Norris, on the other hand? Not so much.

And today? Today was the day Lando fully lost it.

(divider thanks to @saradika-graphics )

Oscar Piastri had always been a calm, collected kind of guy. Unshakeable, even.

Lando Norris, on the other hand? Not so much.

And today? Today was the day Lando fully lost it.

It had started innocently enough, just another fan stage, just another round of questions.

“Oscar, would you rather get married or get a tattoo?”

Easy. Straightforward. Oscar barely had to think before responding, “Well, I already did one of those things.”

That was, apparently, the wrong thing to say.

Because one second later, Lando spat out his drink.

“YOU GOT A TATTOO?!”

Oscar turned, confused. “What? No.”

Lando, looking equal parts betrayed and horrified, pointed an accusing finger. “Mate, I’ve seen you in swim trunks. There’s no way you have a tattoo. Where is it?”

Oscar frowned. “I don’t have a tattoo.”

Lando’s face twisted in confusion. “But you just said—” He stopped. His eyes widened. Oscar could see the moment his brain caught up.

“WAIT. WAIT.” Lando practically jumped out of his seat. “YOU’RE MARRIED?!” Lando looked genuinely stunned, his mouth hanging open in shock. 

Oscar nodded, calm as ever. “Yeah.”

Lando’s reaction was not calm. Lando let out a strangled, guttural noise, kind of sounding like an indignant cat.

“WHAT?!”

The interviewer, who had been mostly observing up until now, leaned forward, eyes shining with the excitement of a woman who had just stumbled upon the biggest scoop of the season. “Okay, hold on. You mean married married? Like, legally?”

Oscar frowned. “Is there another kind?”

Lando’s hands were now on his head, his entire world seemingly crumbling around him. “SINCE WHEN?!”

Oscar shrugged. “A while now.”

The crowd lost it. The interviewer looked like Christmas had come early. The McLaren PR team, wherever they were, was probably having a collective heart attack.

Lando’s jaw dropped. “I DIDN’T EVEN KNOW YOU HAD A GIRLFRIEND.”

Oscar frowned. “You know that," he told Lando pointedly.

“I DO NOT KNOW THAT,” Lando shouted. “WHEN HAVE YOU EVER MENTIONED A GIRLFRIEND—LET ALONE A WIFE?!”

Oh well. Oscar just shrugged. “Well. I do. She’s amazing. 10/10. Would always marry her again.”

Lando let out a hysterical laugh. “Wait, wait, wait. No, no. You’re telling me you have a freaking WIFE?!”

The interviewer seized the moment. “Okay, no, we need details. How long have you been together?”

Oscar raised an eyebrow. "Since we were 15."

Lando made a strangled noise. “15?! YOU’VE BEEN WITH HER SINCE YOU WERE 15?!”

Oscar nodded. “Yeah.”

The interviewer looked delighted. “How did you meet?”

Oscar tilted his head. “School?”

Lando groaned and turned to the audience. “Look at this guy. Look at him. Of course he’s been secretly married this whole time. Of course.”

The interviewer pressed on. “When did you get married?”

Oscar shrugged. “When I was 18.”

The entire crowd erupted. Fans were screaming, phones were recording, and McLaren PR was definitely hyperventilating somewhere.

Lando, meanwhile, looked like his whole world had just collapsed in real-time.

“You—you got MARRIED at EIGHTEEN?!” he wheezed. “WHY?!”

Oscar looked at him like he was stupid.  “Because I wanted to? Because I love her?”

The interviewer cooed over the answer. Lando physically recoiled. “What, like straight out of high school?!”

Oscar frowned. “Not straight out of high school. We waited a bit.”

“HOW LONG IS A BIT?!” Lando demanded.

Oscar thought about it. “Like… three weeks after graduation?”

Lando let out a strangled noise. “THAT’S NOT A BIT, OSCAR. THAT’S BASICALLY IMMEDIATELY.”

Lando dramatically fell back in his chair. The interviewer, meanwhile, was nearly vibrating with excitement. “Okay, okay, follow-up question—how did you propose?”

Oscar thought about it. “I asked her to marry me.”

The interviewer stared. “…That’s it?”

Oscar nodded. “Yeah.”

Lando threw his hands in the air. “UNBELIEVABLE.”

The interviewer, trying desperately to salvage something remotely romantic, asked, “Where did you propose?”

Oscar, as if this were a perfectly reasonable answer, said, “Uh. At home?”

The interviewer looked at him. "...At home?"

"On the bed," Oscar added.

Lando looked like he was going to have an aneurysm.

The crowd groaned. The interviewer looked physically pained. Lando just laughed in disbelief. “I knew you’d be the most unromantic bastard alive.”

Oscar rolled his eyes. “She said yes.”

Lando wiped imaginary tears from his eyes. “That poor woman.”

The interviewer shook her head in awe. “Oscar, mate, I have to ask—how did you manage to keep this a secret for so long?”

Oscar blinked. “No one asked?”

Lando just screamed.

The interviewer, who had completely abandoned all pretense of professionalism, leaned forward. “Okay, wait, wait, who is she?”

Oscar blinked. “My wife?”

Lando threw up his hands. “YES, OBVIOUSLY, but who is she? What’s her name? Where’s she from? What does she do?”

Oscar's forehead creased. "Is that... relevant?"

The interviewer just about had a stroke. Lando looked like he was going to spontaneously combust.

The fans were losing their freaking minds.

Lando nearly fell out of his chair. “YOU’VE BEEN MARRIED FOR YEARS AND I’VE NEVER MET HER.”

“I mean, I thought it was obvious?”

“OBVIOUS TO WHO?!” Lando yelled. “BECAUSE IT WASN’T OBVIOUS TO ME.”

Oscar just shrugged. 

Lando groaned. “Mate, I DIDN’T KNOW SHE EXISTED!”

Lando looked like he was seconds from grabbing Oscar and shaking him until some kind of information fell out. "Okay, I can't believe I have to ask this, but why the hell didn't you tell me?”

"I thought you knew," Oscar answered simply.

Lando just gaped. "How on earth would I have known?"

Oscar shrugged. The interviewer, meanwhile, was leaning closer, clearly invested in the whole thing now.

Lando, apparently having had enough, decided on a different tactic. Lando pointed at him, eyes narrowing. “You’re not getting away with this. You are going to introduce me to your wife.”

Oscar sighed, clearly knowing a losing battle when he saw one. “Fine,” he said after a moment.

Lando sat back, satisfied. “Good.” Then he paused. “Wait—does anyone else know? Like, do the team know?”

Oscar shrugged. “I think Zak does.”

Lando made a strangled noise. “Why does Zak get to know?!”

Oscar pointed out, “Because he’s my boss?”

The interviewer, clearly having thrown all professionalism out the window, was just enjoying the chaos. Lando looked like he wanted to scream. “But I’m your friend!”

Somewhere in the background, McLaren PR was probably losing their minds, trying to figure out how to handle the fact that Oscar Piastri, their quiet, low-maintenance driver, had accidentally revealed he’d been married since he was 18.

Not Oscar’s problem, though...After he escaped Lando Norris' clutches.

He had a wife to call after all.

Oscar Piastri was a man of routine.

He liked predictability. Consistency. A life largely free of unnecessary chaos.

Which was exactly why, after the complete meltdown that was today’s fan stage, he had retreated to his driver’s room, shut the door, and pulled out his phone. If there was one thing in his life that wasn’t chaotic, it was his wife.

The call rang twice before she picked up.

“Hey, love,” she greeted, her face appearing on screen. She was sitting in their apartment, hair tied up, wearing one of his hoodies. 

Oscar felt himself relax immediately. “Hey.”

She smiled at him. “So, how was your day?”

Oscar sighed. “Lando found out we’re married.”

Her eyes widened slightly. “Oh.” A pause. “He… didn’t know?”

Oscar shook his head. "I thought he did."

She let out a small laugh at that. "How the hell did you think he knew?"

Oscar shrugged. "I dunno. We've been married for, what, five years now? How could he not know?"

Her smile widened. "Oh, I don't know. Maybe because you're about as romantic as a cactus?"

Oscar let out a huff. "I can be romantic."

Before she could respond, there was a loud banging on the door, followed by—

“LET ME IN, PIASTRI!”

Oscar sighed through his nose. “Oh, for fuck’s sake.”

His wife bit her lip, clearly seconds away from laughing. “Is that…?”

“YOU HAVE EXACTLY THREE SECONDS BEFORE I BREAK THIS DOOR DOWN AND—”

Oscar hung his head. “Yes.”

She was laughing now, and he couldn’t even bring himself to be mad because it was an adorable sound.

The banging continued. “I CAN HEAR YOU IN THERE. STOP IGNORING ME, OSCAR.”

His wife bit her lip, clearly trying not to laugh. “You should probably let him in before he tries to break the door down.”

Oscar debated not letting him in, but realistically, Lando would either A) find a way in, or B) make this everyone else’s problem.

So, with a long-suffering sigh, he got up and opened the door.

Lando barreled in immediately, eyes wild.

“WHERE IS SHE?!?” he demanded. “I NEED TO SEE HER WITH MY OWN EYES.”

Oscar sighed, holding up the phone. “She’s on FaceTime, you absolute lunatic.”

Lando’s head whipped around, and he nearly tripped over his own feet trying to get to the couch. He pushed past Oscar with a huff, then stared, wide-eyed, at the phone.

Lando was silent. For once.

His wife was, bless her soul, doing her best to fight her laughter at the look on Lando’s face. “Hi,” she said. “You must be Lando.”

Lando just continued to gape.

Then, slowly, he pointed an accusatory finger at the screen. “You’re real.”

She laughed. “I hope so.”

Lando turned to Oscar, looking personally betrayed. “SHE’S REAL.”

Oscar sighed. “I know.”

Lando turned back to the phone. “And you married him? At eighteen?!?”

She smiled. “Yep.”

Lando reeled. “WHY?!”

She tilted her head. “Because I love him?”

Lando looked like his entire world had been completely shaken. “You love him,” he repeated, staring incredulously down at her.

Oscar rolled his eyes. “Oi, mate, why’s that so hard to believe?”

Lando just groaned in exasperation. “You do not understand how hard it is, being friends with a guy for literal years, and never knowing he had a girlfriend—let alone a WIFE.”

“Mate, I’m pretty sure that says more about you than me,” Oscar told him bluntly.

Lando shot him a glare. “Oh, and you’re what? Mister Emotional Intelligence? You’ve been hiding this for years!”

Oscar shrugged. “Never came up in conversation.”

Lando looked horrified. “Don’t put this on me!”

Oscar shrugged. “You never asked.”

Lando flopped onto the couch, rubbing his face. “Unbelievable.”

His wife stifled a laugh, the corners of her mouth tugging upward as she watched Lando in his current state.

Lando, meanwhile, had moved to the “trying to wrap his head around this situation” portion of his breakdown.

“Okay, no. We’re fixing this. Immediately.”

Oscar sighed. “Lando—”

Lando pointed at the phone. “I need to meet her.”

Oscar sighed. “Fine. Silverstone.”

Lando gasped. “Really?!?”

Oscar deadpanned. “No, I just said it for fun.”

Lando turned back to the phone. “Mrs. Piastri, I will see you at Silverstone.”

She laughed. “Looking forward to it.”

Lando nodded firmly, then turned back to Oscar. “I will be grilling you for details later.”

Oscar sighed. “Of course you will.”

Lando stood dramatically. “Good. Carry on.” And then he walked out like he had just personally fixed the situation.

Oscar turned back to his wife, who was fully laughing.

“I love Lando,” she said. “This is the best thing that’s ever happened.”

Oscar sighed. “I regret everything.”

She smirked. “Love you.”

Oscar huffed. “Yeah, yeah. Love you too.”

And somewhere, in the distance, Lando was plotting.

****

@/oscarpiastri ✅

Posted: 1 day ago

Caption:

So, the internet (and, more importantly, Lando) just found out I’m married.

To be honest, I didn’t think it was a secret. I’ve been married for years. I assumed people knew. Turns out, I was very, very wrong.

Yes, I’m married. Have been for five years this summer.

So, meet my wife—my best friend, my favorite person in the world, and the only one who has somehow put up with me for this long.

We met when we were 15. Two kids at boarding school, thrown together by pure chance. The only open seat in class was next to me, so she took it. I stole a pen from her once—completely by accident—but she still let me borrow her pens after that. Eventually, she started carrying a second one just for me. I told myself that meant something.

She always knew when I was having a bad day, even when I hadn’t said a word. She made school bearable, made exams feel less stressful, made me laugh even when all I wanted to do was complain. Somewhere between stolen lunch breaks and long walks back to the dorms, between late-night study sessions and whispered conversations about the future, I fell in love with her. Quietly, all at once and over time. I knew by the time we were 15—maybe even before then.

She was my best friend first. The person I trusted most. The one who understood the parts of my life that didn’t always make sense to everyone else. By the time I worked up the nerve to tell her how I felt, she just smiled and said, ‘I was wondering when you’d figure that out.’ Like she had known all along.

When I left school to chase this ridiculous dream, she didn’t ask me to stay. She just told me she’d be there, no matter how far I went. And she was. Through every win, every loss, every moment of self-doubt.

So when we turned 18, we didn’t wait. Three weeks after graduation, we walked into a registry office in London, signed a piece of paper, and walked out married. No grand ceremony, no expensive dress. Just us, two rings we picked out in under twenty minutes, and a promise we already knew we’d keep.

We told our families afterward. Some took it better than others.

I know getting married at 18 sounds a little mad. People told us we were too young, that we should wait, that we were being reckless. But why? I had no doubt in my mind then, and I have none now.

She’s still the first person I call after every race, no matter the result. She’s the one who tells me to go to bed when I’m up too late on the sim, who reminds me to eat when I forget, who talks me down when I start overthinking. She’s been with me through everything. Through junior categories to F1, through every high and every low, through the moments I wanted to quit and the ones where I felt like I was on top of the world.

She’s my best friend, my greatest love, the only person who can call me out on my nonsense and get away with it.

So, no, I don’t have a tattoo. But I do have a wife. The person who still looks at me like I’m just that 15-year-old kid stealing a pen and falling in love before he even realizes it’s happening.

I have no idea how I convinced her to marry me, but I’d do it all over again in a heartbeat.

10/10, would always marry her again. ❤️

Comments:

@/landonorris: FIVE YEARS??? YOU HAVE BEEN MARRIED FOR FIVE YEARS???

↪️ @/oscarpiastri: I assumed you knew. ↪️ @/landonorris: WHEN HAVE YOU EVER MENTIONED HAVING A WIFE???

↪️ @/mrspiastri: He does this thing where he forgets people don’t just know things.

@/danielricciardo: High school sweethearts. Eloped at 18. Best plot twist of the season.

@/mclaren: We have so many questions.↪️ @mrspiastri: Submit them in an organized document, I’ll answer the best ones.

@/f1updates: Today in ‘Oscar Piastri casually drops life-changing information’—he has a whole wife. Lando learned this at the same time as the rest of us.

@/lanoscult: Not Lando finding out with the fans and having a full existential crisis on stage 💀💀💀

@/thef1editz: POV: You just found out your best friend has been MARRIED FOR YEARS and never told you (attached video of Lando’s reaction with dramatic music)

@/wagsf1: WE NEED A FULL BOARDING SCHOOL LOVE STORY IMMEDIATELY.

@/f1tea: No thoughts, just Lando yelling ‘WHO GETS MARRIED AT 18’ like he was personally betrayed.

@/padlockthegrid: We’ve been watching this man for YEARS and never once suspected a wife??

@/georgerussell63: I feel like this is something you announce at a dinner, not in front of an audience.

↪️ @/oscarpiastri: I thought I had mentioned it. ↪️ @/landonorris: YOU DID NOT.

@/charles_leclerc: This is the greatest plot twist in F1 history.

@/fernandoalo_oficial: I respect this level of secrecy.

@/chaoticneutralf1: Oscar Piastri is terrifying. He just DOES things and assumes people KNOW.

@/mclaren: Oscar, any other life-altering facts you’ve forgotten to mention? ↪️ @/oscarpiastri: Not that I can think of. ↪️ @/landonorris: I REFUSE TO BELIEVE THAT.

@/mrspiastri: 10/10, would marry him again. (Even if he forgets to tell people.) ↪️ @/oscarpiastri: Love you too. ❤️

@/danielricciardo: Oscar, mate, do you have any other shocking secrets? ↪️ @/oscarpiastri: Not really. ↪️ @/landonorris: I AM NOT CONVINCED.

@/chaoticgrid: I will think about this every day for the rest of my life.

@/mrspiastri

Posted: 2h ago

Caption:

"So. Yesterday happened.

Since Oscar apparently forgot that telling people you’re married is something you actually have to do, I’ve spent the last 24 hours watching the internet lose its collective mind. You guys have questions. Lots of them. So, let’s go:

1. Wait… Oscar is MARRIED?!

Yes. Since we were 18. I know, I know. We should have made a big announcement. Or at the very least told his teammate. Oops.

2. When did you get married?!Right after we graduated. We were 18, ran off to London, signed a piece of paper, and then told our families. In hindsight, we probably should have done that last part beforehand, but hey, we were young and in love (and slightly impulsive).

3. Why so young?Because we were sure. It wasn’t impulsive—it was inevitable. People told us we were crazy, that we should wait, that we’d change. But we didn’t. We grew up together, and we only ever grew toward each other. If I had to choose again, I’d do it exactly the same way.

3. How did you two meet?We were 15, stuck at boarding school, and Oscar stole my pen. He swears it was an accident. I maintain that it was the moment he decided to make me fall in love with him.

5. Did you really not tell Lando?I thought he knew! Everyone close to us does! I assumed Oscar had mentioned it at some point, but, well… you all saw what happened. Apparently, Oscar’s ‘private life’ policy extended to his teammate of three years. Which is why we all got to witness his public breakdown in real-time.

5. Does this mean you’re an F1 WAG?Technically? Yes. Do I have the outfit coordination and expensive handbag collection to back it up? No. I do steal Oscar’s team hoodies, so that counts, right?

6. What’s your favorite thing about Oscar?The way he loves—quietly, steadily, with his whole heart. He still waits up for me if I’m out late, still kisses my forehead when he thinks I’m asleep, still tucks handwritten notes into his race gloves like he did back when he was karting. I’ve loved him for so long that I can’t imagine my life any other way.

7. And since Oscar said ‘10/10 would always marry her again,’ what’s your answer? 10/10. No regrets, no hesitation, no doubt. I’d marry him a thousand times over.

Comments: 

@/landonorris: I’M STILL NOT OVER THIS. ↪️@/oscarpiastri: I’m never going to live this down, am I? ↪️@/mrspiastri: Nope. But I love you anyway.

@/danielricciardo: This is the kind of romance novel material I expect from an F1 WAG.

@/mclaren: We demand a Netflix special on this.

@/wagsf1: This is the cutest thing we’ve ever seen. Please post more.

@/f1updates: The way she said ‘10/10’ like it was the easiest question ever 😭💖

@/wagsf1: He still tucks handwritten notes into his race gloves??? I’M GONNA CRY.

@/f1updates: This woman just broke the internet by being casually, devastatingly in love.

@/f1fangirl92: The way this man has been secretly in love since he was FIFTEEN is actually lethal.”

@/fanaccountoscarpiastri: So what I’m getting is that Oscar is out here winning races and marriage. I respect it.

@/paddockinsider: Be so honest. What did people say when they found out you guys eloped? @/mrspiastri: Oh, everyone thought we were insane. Random people who barely knew us were convinced we’d crash and burn. Now we get a lot of, ‘Wow, you guys really made it work.’ ↪️@/oscarpiastri: Wasn’t hard.

@/f1obsessed: Did you guys ever break up? ↪️@/mrspiastri: Nope. Not once. Not even a ‘we were on a break’ situation. We’ve been together since we were 15, which is wild when I think about it.

@/fanofeverything: Why did Oscar keep it a secret??? ↪️@/mrspiastri: It wasn’t a secret so much as… he never felt the need to bring it up? It’s not like he was hiding me in a basement somewhere lol. He just doesn’t talk about personal stuff unless someone asks directly. Which, apparently, no one did.

@/gridgossip: So who knew? ↪️@/mrspiastri: Mark. Andrea. Probably Zak? Our families, obviously. And, um. That might be it?

@/paddockinsider: Did Oscar just assume that everyone knew you guys were married? ↪️@/mrspiastri: Yes. 100%. This man did not think to mention it because he thought it was ‘obvious. ↪️@/mclarenmemes: “OBVIOUS TO WHO??” ↪️@/mrspiastri: To him. He just figured if someone asked if he was married, he’d say yes. But since no one did, he saw no need to bring it up. ↪️@/landonorris: HOW IS THAT YOUR LOGIC. ↪️@/oscarpiastri: No one asked. ↪️@/landonorris: I’M GOING TO LOSE MY MIND.

@/f1insider: We need more details about Mark Webber finding out. ↪️@/mrspiastri: I swear I saw his soul leave his body. ↪️@/mclarenmemes: OSCAR, EXPLAIN YOURSELF. ↪️@/oscarpiastri: Didn’t seem necessary to tell him at the time ↪️@/landonorris: “HOW IS MARRIAGE NOT NECESSARY INFORMATION???” ↪️@/mrspiastri: Mark Webber sat Oscar down like a disappointed dad and was like, ‘Mate. How do you just… forget to mention you’re married? ↪️@/mclarenupdates: “And what did Oscar say??? ↪️@/mrspiastri: “He just shrugged and went, ‘Not really relevant to racing. ↪️@/landonorris: “I NEED TO LIE DOWN.”

@/paddockdrama: People always joke that Oscar is a robot. Does that ever bother him? ↪️@/mrspiastri: Not really. I once asked him and he just shrugged and went ‘Doesn’t bother me. I don’t need to prove anything to anyone as long as you know how much I love you.’ ↪️@/landonorris: NO BECAUSE WHERE WAS THIS ENERGY WHEN I TOLD HIM I GOT P2 AND HE JUST WENT ‘NICE’??? ↪️@/oscarpiastri: It was nice.

@/paddockgossip: “Did ANY other drivers know???” ↪️@/mrspiastri: Oscar’s Prema teammates figured it out. The rest of the grid? Oblivious. ↪️@/landonorris: How did Oscar never accidentally spill?? ↪️@/mrspiastri: He doesn’t overshare. Meanwhile, I am still in awe that he just assumed people knew.

@/foreverf1: Wait, I need to know—who said ‘I love you’ first? ↪️@/mrspiastri: Oscar did. Completely out of nowhere, too. We were 16, lying on the floor doing homework, and he just looked over and went, ‘Oh. I love you.’ Like he just realized it in real time.

@/f1teaqueen: Okay but like… NO COLD FEET?? Not even a little?? ↪️@/mrspiastri: Nope. We were 100% sure.

@/wildforwags: Who actually officiated your wedding?? ↪️@/mrspiastri: Some very lovely lady at a London registry office. She called us ‘sweethearts’ and I think she knew we were completely insane, but she was very supportive about it.

@/racewifematerial: What did you wear?? ↪️@/mrspiastri: A white sundress I bought the week before. Oscar wore a suit that was slightly too big because he borrowed it last-minute. We looked like two teenagers who ran away from home, which, to be fair… we kinda did.

@/formula1fangirl: Who took the wedding photos? ↪️@/mrspiastri: We handed a disposable camera to two very confused tourists outside the registry office. They did a great job.

@/landoandchaos: Oscar, babe, how did you manage to keep this from your friend for FIVE YEARS? ↪️@/mrspiastri: Listen, Oscar is elite at two things: racing and not offering information unless directly asked.

@/mclarenfanatic: Did he really think Lando knew? ↪️@/mrspiastri: 100%. I asked him and he was like, ‘Well, I didn’t HIDE it?’ And I was like, ‘Oscar. That is not the same thing as telling people.’

@/fastandflawless: Be honest, did you ever have a moment of ‘Oh my god, I married an 18-year-old racing driver, what have I done’?” ↪️@/mrspiastri: Not really? I mean, other people definitely thought we were nuts, but we knew exactly what we were doing. The real crisis moment was a few months later when I realized I’d have to file taxes as a married person.

@/waggossip: “Did Oscar have a big, romantic proposal, or was it just like, ‘Wanna get married?’ ↪️@/mrspiastri: Oscar woke up one morning, looked at me, and said, ‘We should get married. Logically, it makes sense.’ ↪️@/f1softies: YOU’RE JOKING. ↪️@/mrspiastri: I was like, ‘Okay?’ And he said, ‘Great, I’ll book an appointment.’ ↪️@/mclarenmemes: So let me get this straight. No knee. No ring. Just ‘We should get married.’ ↪️@/mrspiastri: Correct. ↪️@/f1wifeguys: And you weren’t even a little mad?? ↪️@/mrspiastri: Nah, I thought it was funny. If he’d done some big, dramatic proposal, I’d have thought he was concussed. ↪️@/mclarenupdates: Please tell me he at least got a ring after that. ↪️@/mrspiastri: He did! We picked one out together. It has both our birthstones.

@/paddocktea: Okay, but does he ever get super romantic out of nowhere?” ↪️@/mrspiastri: Oh, absolutely. Once, when I was really stressed out, he just looked at me and said, ‘You don’t have to do everything alone. I’m always going to be here.’ ↪️@/f1wifeguys: STOP THAT’S SO SWEET.

@/paddockinsider: What’s the most uncharacteristically romantic thing he’s ever said? ↪️@/mrspiastri: We were lying in bed once, just scrolling on our phones, and out of nowhere he goes, ‘You know, no matter how my life turned out, I think I would’ve found you in every version of it.’ And then he just went back to reading about Formula 2 tire degradation like he hadn’t just ruined me.

@/backmarkerbrigade: “So, like, what did you do after you got married? Fancy dinner? Celebratory champagne?” ↪️@/mrspiastri: ...Sandwichs at Pret-a-manger

@/gridlove: What’s the most Oscar Piastri way he’s ever told you he loves you? ↪️@/mrspiastri: One time he texted me ‘You’re my favorite human’ completely out of the blue. No context. No follow-up. Just that. It was adorable.

@/pitlaneprincess: Who cried more at the wedding? ↪️@/mrspiastri: Me. Oscar was annoyingly composed. He did squeeze my hand really tight when we said our vows, though.

@/drsforlove: “This man has been giving post-race interviews like ‘Yeah, good race, car felt good’ and then just casually drops a wife like it’s a tire strategy.

@/wildforwags: What’s something you wish you had done for the wedding? ↪️@/mrspiastri: Honestly, nothing. It was chaotic, but it was ours.

@/pitstopqueen: What was your first impression of Oscar? ↪️@/mrspiastri: Honestly? I thought he was too quiet. Then he made some dry, sarcastic comment under his breath in class, and I immediately knew we’d get along.

@/tracksidegossip: How long did you actually plan the wedding? ↪️@/mrspiastri: A week. And ‘plan’ is a generous term. We just Googled how to get married in London, booked the appointment, and that was that.

@/f1chaos: Oscar, be so honest, did you really think people would just ‘figure it out’ without you ever saying anything?? ↪️@/mrspiastri: Yes. Yes, he did.

@/paddockprincess: Wait, so how did Oscar’s family react to you guys getting married so young? ↪️@/mrspiastri: Honestly? They were really supportive. His mum just went, ‘That makes sense,’ and his dad laughed. Oscar’s family has always been the ‘if you’re happy, we’re happy’ type. ↪️@/oscarpiastriupdates: “So no dramatic reactions from the Piastris??” ↪️@/mrspiastri: “The most dramatic reaction was his mum sighing and saying, ‘You two are hopeless.’ But she meant it fondly.”

@/chaosinthepaddock: What about your family? 👀 ↪️@/mrspiastri: Ah. Well. See, they did not get over it in five minutes. ↪️@/f1tea: Omg. HOW mad were they??” ↪️@/mrspiastri: Very. Like, ‘multiple angry phone calls’ mad. Like, ‘we refuse to speak to you for years’ mad.” ↪️@/landonorris: Did they actually say you were ruining your life? ↪️@/mrspiastri: Oh, yes. There was a lot of dramatic ‘you’re throwing your future away’ speeches. Which was funny, because my future was literally the same, just with more love and an Australian husband. ↪️@/piastrination: Did Oscar ever try to talk to them about it? ↪️@/mrspiastri: Oh, he tried. But Oscar is Oscar, so he just very calmly said, ‘I love her, we’re married, and that’s not changing.’ Which, surprisingly, did not make them less angry. ↪️@/f1gossip: Have they come around since then? ↪️@/mrspiastri: No.

@/landonorris: Lando’s reaction when he found out vs. your family’s reaction when they found out—who had the bigger meltdown?” ↪️@/mrspiastri: Oh, my family by far. Lando was just confused—my relatives were furious.

@/gridgirlgossip: Oscar Piastri, the man who quietly eloped at 18, dealt with family drama, and then just went racing like nothing happened.

@/drsdiva: “This is the wildest reveal in F1 history. Netflix, do your job.”

@/f1softies: “The fact that Oscar has been in wife guy mode for YEARS and we had no idea.”

@/lando4lyf: Lando: ‘YOU GOT A TATTOO?!’ Oscar: ‘No, I’m married.’ Lando: internal system crash

@/piastriupdates: “Lando Norris finding out live on stage that his teammate has been MARRIED FOR FIVE YEARS is the funniest thing to ever happen in F1.

@/f1memesdaily: “Oscar Piastri eloped at 18, never told anyone, and assumed people would figure it out while Lando was out here thinking he was a single man. I respect the commitment to quiet chaos.”

@/danielricciardo: Mate. You were MARRIED this whole time?? I thought you were just too focused on racing to date anyone, and instead you were out here with a whole WIFE???

@/charles_leclerc: You were married at 18? And Oscar thought that was a normal thing to do?? ↪️@/mrspiastri: Yes. Yes, he did.

@/alex_albon: Tbh, I respect it. Absolute power move. Eloping at 18, casually keeping it a secret, and then just dropping it on Lando like that?? Unreal. ↪️@/mrspiastri: See? Alex gets it.

@/robertschwartzman: Oh, now everyone suddenly cares. Meanwhile, WE KNEW THE WHOLE TIME. ↪️@/mrspiastri: To be fair, you two were basically forced to know. ↪️@/robertschwartzman: Yeah, because he wouldn’t shut up about you. ‘Oh, I can’t come to dinner, I have to call my wife.’ ‘Oh, I’m flying to London to see my wife.’ Mate, we were 19, and you were out here married like a 40-year-old. ↪️@/mrspiastri: He still does that, btw. ↪️@/robertschwartzman: Not surprised. The man has been whipped since day one.

@/jehannadaruvala: “The funniest part was watching Oscar just assume we all knew. Like we’d be talking about normal 19-year-old things, and he’d casually drop, ‘Yeah, my wife said the same thing.’ ↪️@/mrspiastri: And did any of you ever ask for clarification? ↪️@/jehannadaruvala: Oh, we asked. His response? ‘What about it?’ LIKE SIR. ↪️@/robertschwartzman: “One time, I straight-up said, ‘Mate, do you realize you’re married?’ and he just blinked at me and said, ‘Yeah.’ As if that was a totally normal thing for a teenage racing driver. ↪️@/mrspiastri: Sounds about right. ↪️@/ollicaldwell: “Honestly, we stopped questioning it after a while. He was just so chill about it. ↪️@/arthur_leclerc: Yeah, it was like, ‘Oh, Oscar’s in a committed marriage while we’re all just trying to survive? Cool, cool.’

@/f1softies: Okay but does he ever have romantic moments?? ↪️@/mrspiastri: Oh, absolutely. They just happen out of nowhere and leave me emotionally ruined. ↪️@/mclarenupdates: Example, please. ↪️@/mrspiastri: One time, I was having a bad day, and he just looked at me and said, ‘You know, the best part of my life is that I get to love you.’ ↪️@/mclarenmemes: EXCUSE ME SIR??? ↪️@/landonorris: “WHAT THE HELL.”

@/f1updates: So you eloped… but do you think you’ll ever have a big wedding? ↪️@/mrspiastri: Not really. Oscar and I don’t love being the center of attention, so a big wedding never appealed to us. ↪️@/landonorris: THEN CAN I HAVE A BIG PARTY ON YOUR BEHALF??? ↪️@/mrspiastri: We literally just had a wedding reveal by accident and you want to throw an even bigger event??? ↪️@/landonorris: YES.

@/f1insider: So how did Mark find out?? ↪️@/mrspiastri: We didn’t tell him. He found out when Oscar referred to me as his wife in conversation. ↪️@/mrspiastri: We were in a meeting. Mark stopped mid-sentence and went, ‘Your WHAT?’ ↪️@/landonorris: HIS WORLDVIEW SHATTERED. @/mrspiastri: Oscar, completely unbothered, said, ‘Oh. Yeah. We got married a while ago.’ ↪️@/mclarenmemes: I CAN HEAR MARK WEBBER’S EXASPERATION. ↪️@/mrspiastri: Mark didn’t speak for a full minute. Then he sighed, rubbed his temples, and went, ‘Mate. You can’t just drop that into conversation like it’s nothing.’ ↪️@/oscarpiastri: I didn’t see the problem. ↪️@/landonorris: YOU WOULDN’T. ↪️@/f1updates: Does Mark ever bring it up now? ↪️@/mrspiastri: Every single time we see him. ↪️@/oscarpiastri: It’s been years. He should let it go. ↪️@/mrspiastri: Finally he just said, ‘Yeah, I should have figured.’ ↪️@/mclarenmemes: EXCUSE ME???” ↪️@/mrspiastri: Apparently, Oscar was too relaxed for someone hiding a major life decision. Mark said he’d seen too many drivers try to balance racing and relationships, and he knew Oscar had already locked it down. ‘Kid’s too stable for anything else.’ ↪️@/mclarenmemes: That’s actually terrifying. ↪️@/mrspiastri: Immediately after he went ‘Alright. Suppose we better make sure this doesn’t derail your career then.’ ↪️@/mclarenmemes: Classic Webber. ↪️@/mclarenupdates: Did he at least congratulate you? ↪️@mrspiastri: Yes. Eventually. But only after making sure we’d thought it through. ↪️@/f1softies: Did he give you a lecture?” ↪️@/mrspiastri: Not really. More like a ‘If you’re doing this, do it properly’ talk.

@/drsfordays: The fact that her family was furious while Mark Webber just sighed is sending me.

@/oscarpiastri_fanclub: So Mark Webber has known this whole time??” ↪️@/mrspiastri: Yes. And I think he’s still mildly offended that Oscar didn’t ask for any advice beforehand.

@/f1updates: Why doesn’t Oscar wear a wedding ring? ↪️@/mrspiastri: He does! He just doesn’t wear it when driving. ↪️@/mclarenmemes: Okay but I have never seen this man wear a ring in my life. ↪️@/mrspiastri: He wears it in the off-season. Also, fun fact: he has a silicone one for training that he keeps losing.

@/f1updates: Oscar is so calm and logical on track. Is he the same at home? ↪️@/mrspiastri: Mostly, yeah. But sometimes, out of nowhere, he’ll just say the most devastatingly romantic thing. ↪️@/f1softies: EXAMPLES PLEASE. ↪️@/mrspiastri: One time, I joked, ‘You’re stuck with me forever,’ and he just looked at me, completely serious, and said, ‘That was the goal.’

@/f1updates: Do you ever wish you dated other people before settling down? ↪️@/mrspiastri: Nope. ↪️@/mclarenmemes: Not even a little? ↪️@/mrspiastri: Why would I? I already found my person.

@/f1updates: Serious question—why don’t you ever go to races?? ↪️@/mrspiastri: Anxiety. And I like my privacy. Nobody needs to see my terrified facial expressions. ↪️@/f1memes: You really married a professional racing driver and said no thanks to the circus.” ↪️@/mrspiastri: Yep. ↪️@/mclarenmemes: And Oscar’s fine with that??? ↪️@/mrspiastri: He knew what he was signing up for.

@/landonorris: So I still haven’t met you because??? ↪️@/mrspiastri: Because you are chaos incarnate and I am scared. ↪️@/landonorris: I AM DELIGHTFUL. ↪️@/mrspiastri: Oscar tells me otherwise. ↪️@/mclarenmemes: OSCAR, SAY IT AIN’T SO. ↪️@/oscarpiastri: No comment.

@/mclarenmemes: So you just send him off to work and watch from home like it’s the Super Bowl? ↪️@/mrspiastri: Yes. ↪️@/f1memes: AND HE’S FINE WITH THAT??? ↪️@/mrspiastri: He comes home, I feed him, we watch race replays together, and he tells me all the paddock gossip. We have an excellent system. ↪️@/f1updates: Oscar, confirm or deny? ↪️@/oscarpiastri: Confirmed.

@/f1updates: So, will we ever see you at a race? ↪️@/mrspiastri: Maybe. One day. ↪️@/mclarenmemes: OSCAR, MAKE HER COME TO ONE. ↪️@/oscarpiastri: She does whatever she wants. I learned that a long time ago.

[idyllic-ghost]

Title: Boyfriend Privileges Pairing: Mingyu x gn(femme presenting)!reader Genre: fluff, suggestive, established relationship Wordcount: 9.9k Rating: 18+

Synopsis: The ten times Mingyu has shown off his "boyfriend privileges"

Warnings: suggestive content not suitable for anyone under the age of 18, food mention, pet names, reader presents as feminine at one point (wearing a dress) but it still reads as gender neutral, slight angst, bathing together

Disclaimer: The scenarios and depictions in my works are fictional and do not represent real-life situations. They do not aim to reflect the complexities of any culture, city, or individual. All characters are entirely fictional, regardless of names or descriptions.

A/N: this fic was created before i decided to leave this blog permanently, and put on queue to be posted now. this blog is still not active. read here to find out why

MDNI: Adults only. Minors are not allowed. Any minors found will be blocked.

Masterlists

You're not sure exactly when it began or what prompted it, but a few months into your relationship, Mingyu started asking you to do little tasks for him. They're always small, often tedious things. Whenever you hesitate, he flashes a charming smile and invokes "boyfriend privileges." Maybe it's the playful way he says it or the endearing look in his eyes, but you always end up giving in.

Mingyu, ever perceptive, has noticed this and teeters on the brink of abusing his "powers." But it doesn't bother you. You'd happily indulge your boyfriend's privileges.

ଘ(੭◌ˊᵕˋ)੭* ੈ♡‧₊˚ 1. Overgrown puppy cuddles

Mingyu is a large puppy that just doesn’t understand how big he is. At least, that's how you see him. Whenever your boyfriend comes home from an especially rough day at work, he wants cuddles. It doesn't matter what you're doing, he'll pout and beg until you sit down on the couch and let him cuddle up in your lap.

"You're crushing me," you mutter.

You're sitting with your legs over the couch cushions, your back against the armrest. Mingyu's laying over your body like a human blanket—one of those electrical blankets that people use in winter. The man is warm.

"Boyfriend privileges," he mumbles, his voice muffled against your skin.

You sigh because you know he's right, you'd let him do this even if he's crushing your bones. Letting your fingers tangle in his hair, Mingyu let's out a sound of approval and nuzzles his head deeper into the crook of your neck. His arms are around your torso, making sure that you don't even try to move. Not that you would.

"Did you have a long day?" you ask softly and he hums. "My poor baby..."

You coo at him, and he whines—he's relishing in being doted on. Mingyu's arms squeeze you a little, a silent sign that he wants you to continue.

"You work so hard, don't you?" You wait for Mingyu to nod before you coo again, "My hardworking Gyu, you're doing such a good job. People love you, you know that? They appreciate your work. So do I."

Mingyu tilts his head up, his eyebrows raised as he silently asks for confirmation. "I really do," you add.

"Thank you..." He puts his forehead against your chest and sighs. "I needed this... needed you."

"I know, puppy." You smile and ruffle his hair.

Mingyu groans and lifts his upper body off of you, his arms resting on the armrest behind you. "Oh, finally! I can breathe!" you exclaim dramatically.

"Sorry," he mutters.

You cup his face in your hands. "I was kidding. I don't mind." You lean in and press a kiss on his pouty lips. "You're like my blanket... or like a Saint Bernard who's forgotten he's not a puppy anymore."

Mingyu smiles at that, before leaning in to litter your face with pecks that have you giggling and squealing.

ଘ(੭◌ˊᵕˋ)੭* ੈ♡‧₊˚ 2. Random massages

You're in line for a ride at an amusement park when Mingyu suddenly turns to you. It's been at least five minutes since you started waiting, and you can tell he's getting impatient. His foot taps rhythmically on the ground, and he keeps glancing at his watch.

"Can you give me a massage? My shoulder's stiff," he huffs, rubbing the offending spot for emphasis.

"Again?" Your eyebrows furrow with concern. "Gyu, you should really go see a specialist..."

Mingyu pretends to ponder this suggestion, then shakes his head with a playful grin. "I don't need a specialist if I have you."

You sigh and roll your eyes, but can't help smiling at his pleading expression. His big, puppy-like eyes, the way his smile showcases his adorable canines, and his hands clasped together in a mockery of prayer make it impossible to refuse. "Sure," you mutter, already resigning yourself to his request.

The line moves a little, and you both shuffle forward a few steps. You're momentarily distracted by the imposing structure of the rollercoaster ahead, watching as the cart sends passengers hurtling through loops and dips at breakneck speed. Your reverie is interrupted by Mingyu poking your side.

"What?" you ask, looking back at him.

"Please?" he repeats, his tone even more imploring.

"Now?" You glance around at the crowd surrounding you—though no one seems to be paying attention, you feel self-conscious.

"Now," Mingyu insists, nodding earnestly.

"Babe, I can't massage you here. You know you shouldn't take off your shirt in public, right? Even if we do find somewhere private, I don't have any oils—"

"Not a big one." He interrupts, holding up his hand with his index finger and thumb inches apart. "A small one. Just on the spot on my shoulder."

"Gyu—"

"Boyfriend privileges," he pleads quietly, eyes wide and hopeful.

You can't say no to him when he gets like this. With a resigned sigh, you motion for him to turn around. He does so eagerly, bending his knees slightly to give you better access to his shoulder. Placing one hand on his neck and the other on his shoulder, you begin to work your thumb into the knot you find there.

Mingyu lets out a soft, contented sigh, only audible to your ears, as he relaxes almost immediately under your touch. The tension in his shoulder melts away, and his head drops forward slightly, eyes closing in relief. The gentle hum of the amusement park, the chatter of the crowd, and the distant screams from the rollercoaster all fade into the background as you focus on easing his discomfort.

Despite the oddity of the situation, there's something intimate and endearing about the moment. The world around you blurs, leaving just the two of you in a bubble of your own making. And as you massage Mingyu's shoulder, you can't help but feel a warm rush of affection for him and his silly, endearing ways.

ଘ(੭◌ˊᵕˋ)੭* ੈ♡‧₊˚ 3. Sharing food

The restaurant is alive with the hum of conversations, the clinking of cutlery, and the occasional burst of laughter. However, all of this fades into a distant background as you focus intently on Chan's story. It's a rare opportunity to meet the members in person, despite your boyfriend working so closely with them, so you want to make the most of every second.

Mingyu, on the other hand, is lost in his own world. Ever since he finished his meal, he’s been zoned out—leaning back in his chair with a distant look in his eyes. You can't decide if he's impatiently waiting for Chan to finish or if he's just succumbed to a food coma. But when he casually reaches over and steals a fry from your plate, your doubts about the food coma vanish. You glance at him, and he meets your gaze with a small, mischievous smile before grabbing another fry. You let him.

A sudden gasp beside you snaps you back, and you turn to see Jun staring at you with mock jealousy from across the table. You smile and tilt your head questioningly.

"What?" you ask, bemused.

"You hit my hand when I tried to borrow a fry from you," Jun accuses, his eyes narrowed at you.

"First of all, I gently slapped it," you correct him. "Second of all, you were stealing, not borrowing. Don't try to make your crime sound better."

Jun huffs dramatically, and you can't help but grin. Meanwhile, Mingyu, taking advantage of the distraction, nabs another fry from your plate. There are almost none left now. As Jun reaches out to make another attempt, you slap his hand away with a swift motion.

"But he—" Jun starts to protest.

"Boyfriend privileges," Mingyu interjects smoothly, popping the last two fries into his mouth with a triumphant grin.

You hear a collective groan from the others at the table, but you just chuckle at Mingyu’s proud expression. "Mhm, boyfriend privileges," you repeat softly, unable to suppress a smile.

You lift a hand to gently brush the hair out of Mingyu's face, and he looks at you with a loving smile that makes your heart flutter. The warm feeling in your stomach is more than just the satisfaction from the delicious food you've eaten.

"Can I finish telling my story now?" Chan interrupts, a hint of exasperation in his voice.

You pull your gaze away from Mingyu and refocus on Chan, giving him your full attention once again. "Go on," you say, eager to hear the rest of his tale.

ଘ(੭◌ˊᵕˋ)੭* ੈ♡‧₊˚ 4. Seeing you first thing in the morning

The feeling of someone's soft breaths feathering against your face makes you scrunch your nose in sleepy annoyance. Mingyu's warm hands travel to your waist with the familiarity of someone who’s done it a million times before. And he has. His touch is intimate and assured, sliding over your skin with practiced ease. He knows you're awake now, evident by the low hum you let out, so he presses a few tender kisses on the bare skin of your clavicle, each one like a gentle spark of warmth.

"G'morning," you mutter, your voice still heavy with sleep, the words blending into a sigh.

"Good morning," he whispers softly, his breath tickling your skin.

You recognize his morning voice—his "I just woke up" voice—so you can tell he’s been up for a while. His voice sounds clearer, more alert, like he’s had time to turn around and take a sip of the water he always leaves on his bedside table.

"Have you been awake for long?" you ask, your words barely above a whisper as his lips continue their gentle exploration, each kiss a tender reminder of his affection.

"Since eight-thirty," he answers between kisses, each one a delicate attempt to keep you as close as possible.

You glance at the clock, seeing that it's almost nine already. "Babe, you've been awake for half an hour... why didn’t you wake me up?"

Mingyu pauses his kisses to look up at you, his expression soft and affectionate, his eyebrows slightly furrowed in confusion. Turning his head slightly, he looks over at the clock and hums thoughtfully.

"I was busy," he says with a playful glint in his eyes. He nestles his head back in the crook of your neck, his warmth enveloping you, but doesn’t resume his kisses, much to your dismay.

"Busy doing what?" you murmur, curiosity piqued, your fingers tracing idle patterns on his back.

"Looking at you," he admits with a giggle, lifting his head to meet your eyes. His gaze is filled with affection, his eyes sparkling with sincerity, and he's trying his best to hold back a big grin. "It's my boyfriend privilege. Only I get to see you like this."

"It's a privilege to see my bed head?" You snort, but Mingyu stays serious, his eyes unwavering, his hand gently stroking your cheek.

"Everyday," he replies softly, his voice a tender caress.

You feel a rush of warmth at his words, and you can't help but smile. You reach up to run your fingers through his hair, pulling him closer for a soft, lingering kiss. His lips are warm and inviting, the kiss deepening with the love and tenderness that has grown between you over the months. The world outside fades away, leaving just the two of you in this quiet, intimate moment.

When you finally pull back, Mingyu's eyes are half-lidded, his expression content and serene. He gently tucks a strand of hair behind your ear, his fingers lingering on your cheek, his touch light and loving. "I love these quiet mornings with you," he murmurs, his voice a soothing balm to your soul.

"Me too," you whisper back, your heart swelling with affection, your eyes locked with his.

You snuggle closer, your bodies fitting together perfectly. The world outside can wait a little longer as you bask in the warmth of each other's presence, the quiet intimacy of the morning making everything else fade away. Mingyu's hands continue their gentle caresses, his fingers tracing soft lines over your skin. You feel utterly cherished, each touch and kiss a testament to the love you share. The gentle rise and fall of his chest beneath your hand, the steady rhythm of his heartbeat, and the warmth of his body against yours create a cocoon of contentment that you never want to leave.

ଘ(੭◌ˊᵕˋ)੭* ੈ♡‧₊˚ 5. Showing you off

"Gyu!" you shout from the bathroom, "What time is it?"

The sound of his long steps come closer and closer until the bathroom door pushes open. Mingyu's head peeks through the gap in the door, and smiles as soon as he sees you. You're wearing the new dress he bought you, the cute sundress that couldn't help himself from buying when he saw you looking at it.

"You're pretty," he murmurs and slinks into the bathroom.

He wraps his arms around you, your back relaxing into his chest. "Mingyu," you repeat.

"What?" He pulls his eyes away from the dress to meet your eyes.

"What time is it?" you ask again with a teasing smile.

"Oh, it's around three-thirty." His hands find your waist. "We should leave in half an hour."

You nod and start packing up your make up. "Good, I think I'm done anyway... do you think I look okay?"

Mingyu lets go of you, spinning you around to face him. You can only grin while he studies you carefully with his lips pursed and his eyebrows furrowed in focus. After a few seconds, he nods—satisfied with what he's seen.

"Perfect." He puts his hand right below your jaw, careful not to disturb the make up on your face. "You look perfect, baby."

His smile remains radiant as you arrive at his family's get-together, a constant beam of joy that lights up the entire evening. Mingyu keeps you close, his arm possessively yet gently wrapped around you, presenting you to the members of his family you haven't yet met. Every introduction is accompanied by a glowing remark about you, his voice brimming with pride. You feel like a movie star at a film premiere—the constant pampering, the way his eyes sparkle every time he looks at you, and the sneaky photos he snaps when he thinks you're not looking.

Mingyu can't seem to stop showering you with compliments. "This is my partner," he says, beaming, as he introduces you to yet another relative. "They're incredible, you know. Smart, kind, and absolutely stunning." He turns his head to you, trying to contain his big smile by biting down on his bottom lip.

You blush, murmuring polite responses, but his praise never ceases. It's in the way he looks at you, eyes full of adoration, and the way he never lets go of your hand, his thumb occasionally brushing against your skin in a soothing gesture.

Throughout the evening, Mingyu is a constant presence by your side, his touch grounding you amidst the whirlwind of social interactions. His family is warm and welcoming, their smiles genuine as they embrace you into their fold. The air is filled with laughter and conversation, the smell of delicious food wafting through the house, creating an atmosphere of warmth and togetherness.

Mingyu’s playful nature shines through as he snaps candid photos of you, his grin widening each time you catch him in the act. "You’re just too beautiful not to capture," he explains with a cheeky smile, earning a soft laugh from you.

As the night progresses, you find yourself growing more and more flustered under the weight of his unending compliments. Yet, there's a thrill in it—a heady mixture of embarrassment and joy at being the center of his universe. His family notices, and they tease him gently about his lovesick behavior, but it only makes him hold you closer, whispering sweet nothings in your ear that make your heart flutter.

By the time the evening winds down, you’re overwhelmed with affection, feeling cherished and adored in a way that leaves you breathless. The warmth of Mingyu’s family, combined with his constant praise and tender glances, has wrapped you in a cocoon of love and contentment. As you prepare to leave, Mingyu wraps his arm around your shoulders, pulling you close for a tender kiss on your temple, his lips lingering just enough to send a shiver down your spine.

"Thank you for coming with me tonight," he murmurs, his voice soft and filled with genuine gratitude. "You made everything perfect."

You smile, leaning into his embrace, feeling the steady beat of his heart against your own. "Thank you for taking me along... I don't think I've seen you like this before," you admit, your voice a gentle whisper in the quiet of the night.

"What do you mean?" He cocks his head, his eyes curious and endearing, making you laugh softly at his obliviousness.

"You were trying to show me off all night," you explain, a playful note in your voice. Seeing his slightly worried expression, you quickly add, "It was sweet, Gyu. Really, it was."

Relief floods his features, and he leans in to press a kiss on your lips. The kiss is soft, lingering a second longer than it should, filling you with a warmth that spreads through your entire body. "It's my boyfriend privilege to get to show you off," he says, his eyes sparkling with mischief and affection.

You groan playfully, rolling your eyes at his words as he starts giggling, the sound infectious and heartwarming. Taking your hand in his, he leads you to the cab he's ordered to take you home. The night air is cool and refreshing, a gentle breeze rustling through the trees, but Mingyu's hand in yours keeps you warm.

As you approach the cab, he pauses for a moment, turning to look at you with a tenderness that makes your heart swell. "You know," he says softly, brushing a stray hair from your face, "You should wear that dress more often."

"Oh yeah?"

Your breath catches in your throat at his words as he pulls you into a tight embrace. "Yeah," he whispers.

With one last lingering kiss, you both get into the cab, his arm never leaving your shoulders. As the city lights blur past the window, you lean into Mingyu, feeling his warmth envelop you.

ଘ(੭◌ˊᵕˋ)੭* ੈ♡‧₊˚ 6. A shoulder to cry on

When you enter the apartment, none of the lights are turned on. You worked late that day, but not so late that Mingyu would've gone to sleep already. The apartment is eerily quiet, devoid of the usual warmth and liveliness. Toeing off your shoes and putting away your outerwear in their rightful places, you start to wonder if he's not home. He usually texts you when he gets home, but you haven't received any messages.

Concern etches between your brows as you walk further into the apartment. The kitchen is spotless, with no pots or pans on the stove—not that you always expect Mingyu to cook, but he had told you earlier today that he'd have something ready for you when you got home. You open the fridge, finding it just as you left it this morning. The absence of any signs of recent activity deepens your worry.

As you pass the bathroom by the guest room, you flick on the lights, casting a warm glow to see the path to your shared bedroom. By the ajar door, you notice a piece of fabric slumped together on the floor. Picking it up, you realize it's Mingyu's jacket. You drape it over your arm and continue to the bedroom, your heart pounding with unease.

He's not there, but you see that the light in your bathroom is on, a soft glow seeping through the cracks in the door. You place his jacket on the edge of the bed before approaching the bathroom door, only to find it locked.

You knock softly, pressing your ear against the door. "Mingyu, I'm home... are you okay?"

"I'm okay, baby," he replies, but his voice is thick with tears. "Sorry, I didn't have time to make you dinner... I think there's some leftovers from yesterday."

"Please, open the door." Ignoring his suggestion about dinner, you grab the door handle. "I can hear that you're not okay."

You hear him sigh, and his footsteps approach the door. Stepping back, you wait as the door swings open. The first thing you see is his bloodshot eyes and red nose. He sniffles and looks away, trying to hide his vulnerability.

"I'm..." He hesitates, torn between lying and being honest.

Before he can decide, you engulf him in a hug, wrapping your arms tightly around his torso. "Oh, baby..."

The dam breaks as a sob bubbles up Mingyu's throat, a raw, heart-wrenching sound that shatters the silence. He buries his face into the crook of your neck, his hot tears streaming down his cheeks and soaking into your shirt. You can feel the wet warmth of his tears spreading, a tangible sign of his anguish.

You rub his back soothingly, your hand moving in slow, comforting circles. Each sob wracks his body, causing his shoulders to tremble violently. His fingers clutch at your shirt, holding on as if he might drown without this anchor.

Minutes pass, each one heavy with his sorrow, until finally, his sobs begin to subside. His shoulders stop shaking, and his breathing slowly evens out, though occasional hiccups still break through. Only then do you loosen your embrace, though you don't fully let go. Instead, you gently take his face in your hands, your thumbs brushing away the tears that cling to his skin. His eyes are red and swollen, filled with a mixture of lingering sadness and gratitude.

"Do you want to talk about it?" you ask softly.

"...can I tell you later? I'll start crying again if I tell you now." He lets out a choked laugh, trying to relieve the tension, but your frown remains.

"Okay. Let's get you cleaned up."

You gently wipe away Mingyu’s tears, your thumb brushing over his cheeks with tender care. His skin is warm and damp, his eyes still glistening with the remnants of his sorrow. Your touch is gentle and reassuring as you guide him to change into more comfortable clothes. You help him out of his work attire, unbuttoning his shirt with careful fingers, and replacing it with a soft, worn-in t-shirt that brings him comfort. Each movement is deliberate, designed to soothe and calm him. You then help him into a pair of loose, cozy sweatpants, ensuring he's enveloped in softness and warmth.

Once he’s settled, you guide him to the couch in the living room, your arm around his waist, supporting his slow and heavy movements. The weight of his exhaustion is impossible to miss, his shoulders slumped and his steps dragging. He collapses onto the couch with a weary sigh, sinking into the cushions as if they might absorb some of his burden.

You start to leave for the kitchen, intending to get him something to eat or drink, but he grabs your hand. His grip is firm yet desperate, his fingers curling around yours with a silent plea for you to stay.

You turn back to him, your heart aching at the sight of his vulnerable expression. Mingyu looks up at you, his eyes wide and filled with a mixture of fear and need. "Don't leave," he whispers.

"I'm going to heat up some leftovers," you explain. "You haven't eaten yet, have you?"

Mingyu shakes his head no and lets go of your hand. You feel his eyes on you as you walk around the kitchen, quickly putting something together. It's not fancy, and it's nothing like what he usually makes you, but it's enough for the two of you right now.

When you return to his side, you give him his bowl before settling down next to him. You eat in silence, letting Mingyu sit as close to you as he pleases. When you're done, you take the dishes to the kitchen. Although you want him to sit still and rest, he follows you—his arms wrapped around your waist the entire time.

It's hard to move around, but you don't complain. Soon enough, the dishes are done and you're back on the couch. Mingyu has his arms wrapped tightly around you as you lay on top of him.

"Thank you," he mutters.

"You don't have to thank me." You lean up to look him in the eye. "Me taking care of you is your boyfriend privilege."

He smiles and presses a chaste kiss on your lips before closing his eyes. The two of you end up falling asleep on the couch on accident. But your stiff body is worth it when you get to see Mingyu smiling at you the next morning.

ଘ(੭◌ˊᵕˋ)੭* ੈ♡‧₊˚ 7. A shoulder to nap on

On the flight back home from a much-needed vacation, Mingyu booked the two of you first-class seats. It was partly because he loves spoiling you, but also so you could sleep comfortably on the way home. The plush seats and extra legroom were a perfect idea, promising a restful journey, but right now, that comfort feels like a far-off dream.

The flight was delayed by a few hours, leaving you and Mingyu stuck at the gate. The airport buzzes with the quiet hum of late-night travelers, the occasional announcement crackling over the PA system. The two of you sit in the lounge, surrounded by weary passengers slumped in their chairs, eyes glazed with fatigue. The smell of coffee and cleaning agents lingers in the air, mingling with the soft rustle of newspapers and the muted clatter of luggage wheels.

Mingyu tries to make the best of the situation, wrapping an arm around your shoulders and pulling you close. His warmth seeps into you, a soothing balm against the weariness. "Just a little longer," he whispers, his breath warm against your ear, sending a shiver down your spine. Despite the delay, his presence is a comforting anchor in the sea of exhaustion, his voice a soft murmur that calms your racing thoughts.

You glance at the clock, the minutes ticking by slowly. The soft lighting of the lounge casts a warm glow, but it does little to chase away the tiredness settling into your bones. Mingyu's fingers trace soothing patterns on your arm, his touch gentle and reassuring, each stroke a silent promise of love and comfort.

"I can't wait to be home in my bed," you murmur, your voice barely above a whisper, heavy with exhaustion.

Mingyu leans his head on your shoulder, his soft hair brushing against your cheek as he closes his eyes with a contented sigh. The weight and warmth of his head against your shoulder provide an unexpected comfort, grounding you in the moment. "This is enough for me," he says softly, his breath warm and reassuring against your skin.

"My shoulder?" you ask, a teasing lilt in your voice, feeling the vibration of his chuckle through the closeness.

"Yes," he replies, his tone earnest and affectionate. His closeness feels intimate and safe, a bubble of tranquility amidst the chaos of the airport.

"And why should I let you have my shoulder?" you tease, a smile tugging at your lips as you relish the closeness.

"Boyfriend privileges," he replies matter-of-factly, his lips brushing against your neck as he speaks. The slight pressure of his lips against your skin sends a wave of warmth through you.

You sigh, a mixture of amusement and tenderness filling your heart. The playful banter and the sincere love in his voice make your heart swell. You tilt your head to rest against his, feeling the gentle rise and fall of his breathing. The world around you fades into a comforting blur, the distant chatter of the airport and the mechanical hum of the environment becoming mere background noise.

For a moment, it's just the two of you, wrapped in each other's warmth and love. His presence is a cocoon of safety and affection, and you close your eyes, allowing yourself to relax fully in his embrace. The gentle rhythm of his breathing, the steady beat of his heart, and the soft, warm pressure of his head against yours create a symphony of comfort that lulls you into a peaceful state.

Your peace is soon interrupted, however. Finally, the boarding announcement crackles through the speakers, breaking the heavy silence of anticipation and sparking a collective sigh of relief that ripples through the gate area. The weariness of the long wait begins to lift as passengers gather their belongings. Mingyu helps you gather your things, his hand never leaving yours as you make your way to the boarding line. His touch is a reassuring anchor, grounding you amidst the bustling crowd.

"Almost there," Mingyu whispers, giving your hand a gentle squeeze.

"Thank goodness," you reply, offering him a tired smile.

The atmosphere shifts as you step onto the jet bridge, a mix of excitement and fatigue hanging in the air. The cool, conditioned air of the plane greets you as you board, offering a welcome contrast to the stuffy terminal. The flight attendants greet you with warm smiles, guiding you toward the plush sanctuary of first class.

Settling into your spacious seats, the world outside begins to fade away. The soft cushions envelop you in comfort, and the generous legroom allows you to stretch out and relax. Mingyu stows your carry-ons in the overhead compartment with ease, his movements fluid and practiced.

As he sits down beside you, the overhead lights cast a gentle glow. "This is so much better," you murmur.

Mingyu smiles, reaching over to adjust your blanket, tucking it around you with a tenderness that melts your heart. "I told you it would be worth the wait," he says softly, his eyes filled with affection.

You can't help but smile at the thought of curling up next to him, the hum of the plane's engines a soothing backdrop. "You always know how to spoil me," you whisper, leaning into his touch.

"It's my favorite thing to do," he replies, brushing a strand of hair from your face. "Besides, you deserve it."

As the plane takes off, you lean into him, feeling the steady rise and fall of his chest. The world outside the window shrinks to a distant blur, and you close your eyes, surrendering to the warmth of his embrace.

"Thank you, Gyu," you murmur, your voice heavy with exhaustion.

"For what?" he asks, his lips brushing against your forehead.

"For everything. For this. For you," you whisper, your words trailing off as sleep begins to claim you.

"Always," he replies softly, his fingers tracing gentle patterns on your arm. "Sleep well, my love."

Wrapped in the comfort of his love and care, you drift off, the promise of restful sleep finally within reach. The gentle touch of his fingers lulls you into a peaceful slumber

ଘ(੭◌ˊᵕˋ)੭* ੈ♡‧₊˚ 8. Lunch boxes

When someone called out for lunchtime, the members collectively let out a big sigh of relief. With tired limbs, they make their way to the cafeteria. While everyone else lines up to buy something, Mingyu heads straight to the fridge and retrieves a carefully prepared meal. He sits down at a table, placing the metal box with a wooden lid in front of him. A pink, stretchy band adorned with tiny red strawberries holds the spoon in place. His face lights up with a smile as he spots the small note on the lid.

Hope practice is going well! I know you're working hard, so please enjoy your lunch and eat well! Can't wait for you to come home♡(>ᴗ•)

Mingyu carefully folds the pink post-it and tucks it into his phone case, a cherished reminder of your thoughtfulness. By then, people have started sitting down beside him, their eyes subtly glancing at the box in front of him. Nobody says anything—they already know what it is—until he opens it.

Inside the box is a beautifully arranged Korean lunchbox. The main compartment holds perfectly steamed white rice, topped with a sprinkling of black sesame seeds. Nestled beside it is a portion of crispy fried chicken, golden brown and glistening with a light coating of sweet and spicy sauce. The other sections are filled with a variety of colorful banchan: neatly sliced kimchi, lightly seasoned spinach, sweet and tangy pickled radish, and tender strips of stir-fried beef bulgogi. There’s even a small section of rolled omelette, its yellow hue bright and inviting.

The delicious aroma wafts up, drawing envious glances from his fellow members. The savory scent of fried chicken and the tangy hint of kimchi fill the air, making everyone's mouths water.

"Did Y/N make you another lunchbox?" Seokmin asks, his eyes wide with curiosity.

"Yeah, they were working from home yesterday, so they had some extra time on their hands," Mingyu replies, a small smile playing on his lips as he inspects the beautifully arranged food.

"It's not fair that only you get homemade lunches from Y/N!" Seungkwan whines, his tone a mix of genuine envy and playful teasing.

Mingyu responds by sticking his tongue out at Seungkwan, making the younger man groan in exasperation. "Boyfriend privileges," Mingyu states proudly, his grin widening.

As he digs in, Mingyu lets out a contented sigh, savoring the flavors and the love that went into preparing his meal. The meat is perfectly seasoned, the rice fluffy, and the banchan vibrant and flavorful. Each bite is a reminder of your care and effort, making the meal taste even better. The members watch with a mix of admiration and envy as Mingyu enjoys his lunch.

ଘ(੭◌ˊᵕˋ)੭* ੈ♡‧₊˚ 9. Bath buddy

As you walk the last bit to the door of your apartment building, you notice a figure in the distance. A tall man, vaguely boyfriend-shaped, waving both of his arms over his head with enthusiasm. Your heart skips a beat, and your smile matches Mingyu's as you break into a run, closing the gap between you. He’s sweaty from the gym, his skin glistening in the fading light, but you don’t mind. You launch yourself into his embrace, pressing yourself as close as possible, feeling the familiar warmth and comfort of his body.

"Are you trying to squeeze me to death?" he asks jokingly, his voice vibrating against your ear.

You loosen your grip slightly, looking up at him with a soft smile. "You have no idea how much I've missed you today."

Instead of teasing you, Mingyu gently pats your head, his fingers threading through your hair with a comforting touch. He sees the weariness in your eyes and the way your hair seems to stick out in all the wrong places, evidence of a long, hard day. "Bad day, hun?" he asks, his voice filled with concern.

The moment he speaks, you feel your guard drop completely. Your lips naturally fall into a pout, and your hands grip the material of his shirt a little tighter. You nod, unable to find the words to describe the exhaustion you feel. Mingyu coos at you softly, pressing a tender kiss to your cheek, his lips lingering for a moment, offering silent comfort. He then guides you to the door, his hand resting on the small of your back, a steadying presence.

"Do you want to take a bath with me?" he asks as he opens the door for you, his voice gentle and soothing.

"Okay," you murmur.

Once inside, the apartment feels like a sanctuary, the chaos of the outside world fading away as the door clicks shut behind you. The familiar scent of home, mingled with Mingyu's comforting presence, immediately begins to soothe your frazzled nerves. He leads you to the bathroom, his touch a constant, reassuring anchor as he guides you down the softly lit hallway. The gentle hum of the apartment envelops you, creating a cocoon of tranquility.

In the bathroom, Mingyu starts running the bath, the sound of water filling the room like a calming symphony. You watch as he carefully adds your favorite bath salts, the granules dissolving into the warm water and releasing a soothing aroma. The scent of lavender and chamomile fills the air, creating a spa-like atmosphere that begins to unwind the knots of tension coiled within you.

Mingyu helps you undress with tender, loving movements, his touch feather-light yet filled with purpose. His fingers trace the contours of your body with a delicate touch, each gesture a silent reassurance of his love and care. The way his hands glide over your skin, unhurried and gentle, sends a wave of warmth through you, dispelling the day’s weariness.

He sheds his own clothes with practiced ease, the fabric slipping off his toned frame effortlessly. The sight of his familiar form, strong and comforting, brings a sense of security and warmth. His skin, slightly glistening from the exertion of the day, catches the soft light, highlighting the lines of his muscles and the contours of his body. There's a serene beauty in the way he moves, each action unhurried and filled with quiet confidence.

Stepping into the bath first, Mingyu eases himself into the steaming water with a sigh of contentment, the sound mingling with the gentle lapping of the water. He settles into the tub, the water enveloping him like a warm embrace. His eyes, inviting and filled with affection, lock onto yours as he extends his hand towards you. The look in his eyes speaks volumes, a silent invitation wrapped in love and intimacy.

You take his hand, feeling the warmth and strength in his grip as he helps you into the tub. The water envelops you in a gentle embrace, its warmth soothing your tired muscles. You settle between his legs, leaning back against his chest, the steady rhythm of his heartbeat a comforting lullaby against your back.

As you relax into his embrace, Mingyu's arms wrap around you, holding you close. His hands begin to gently massage your shoulders, his fingers working out the knots of tension with skillful precision. The sensation is both relaxing and intimate, his touch a balm to your weary soul. You close your eyes, surrendering to the moment, feeling the stress of the day melt away under his tender ministrations.

The soft glow of the bathroom light casts a golden hue over everything, enhancing the sense of intimacy and warmth. Shadows dance along the walls, creating a serene and almost magical ambiance. The only sounds are the gentle sloshing of water and the occasional sigh of contentment from both of you.

"I love you," you whisper, your voice soft and content.

"I love you too," he replies, his lips brushing against your ear.

You stay like that for a while, the water lapping gently around you, the only sounds the occasional drip from the faucet and the steady rhythm of Mingyu's breathing. It’s a perfect moment of peace and connection, wrapped in the comfort and love that only he can provide.

After a few minutes, Mingyu shifts slightly behind you, his movements gentle yet purposeful. "Can you wash my hair?" he asks softly, his voice laced with a boyish charm that makes your heart flutter.

You smile, turning slightly to look at him, your eyes meeting his. "Of course," you reply, your voice warm and affectionate.

He hands you the shampoo, and you pour a generous amount into your palm. Mingyu dips his head back into the water, wetting his hair thoroughly before leaning forward to give you better access. The rich, lathering scent of his shampoo fills the air, mingling with the soothing aromas of the bath salts, creating a calming symphony of fragrances.

Your fingers work through his hair, massaging his scalp with gentle, circular motions. The silky strands slip through your fingers, and you take your time, ensuring each section of his hair is coated with the fragrant lather. Mingyu lets out a contented sigh, his eyes closing as he leans into your touch, his body visibly relaxing under your ministrations.

"This feels amazing," he murmurs, his voice a low, relaxed hum that sends shivers down your spine.

You smile, continuing your careful work. "You deserve it," you say softly. "It's your boyfriend privilege, isn't it?"

Mingyu chuckles, the sound a soft, comforting vibration against your chest. Before he can respond, you pick up the shower head, adjusting the temperature before gently rinsing out the shampoo. Tilting his head back with a gentle hand, you let the warm water cascade through his hair, washing away the suds and leaving his hair clean and soft.

He leans back against you once more, his hair damp and silky against your skin. His eyes are half-lidded with contentment, a serene smile playing on his lips. "Thank you," he whispers, his voice filled with gratitude and affection.

"Anytime," you reply, wrapping your arms around him and holding him close. The warmth of the water and the intimacy of the moment create a cocoon around you, shutting out the rest of the world. You can feel his heartbeat against your back, a steady, reassuring rhythm that syncs with your own. Mingyu's hands rest gently on your arms, his fingers tracing idle patterns on your skin as you both bask in the tranquility of the bath.

The two of you stay like that, cocooned in warmth, the soft glow of the bathroom light casting a golden hue over everything. The sounds of the water and your synchronized breathing create a peaceful ambiance.

ଘ(੭◌ˊᵕˋ)੭* ੈ♡‧₊˚ 10. Tie-fixer

You were already in your pajamas, nestled comfortably in bed with your book, when Mingyu walked in, still dressed in his suit but without his tie. The crisp white shirt accentuated his broad shoulders, and the slight dishevelment of his attire made him look irresistibly charming. His hair was slightly tousled, a few strands falling over his forehead, adding to his effortlessly handsome appearance. He didn't have to say anything; the moment your eyes met his, you were already putting your book to the side and swinging your legs out of bed, the anticipation of helping him a welcome routine.

"Where's your tie?" you ask, a hint of amusement in your voice, tilting your head slightly.

Mingyu pulls the piece of fabric from his pocket and hands it to you, a weary yet appreciative smile playing on his lips. The tie is cool and smooth in your hands, its silk gliding between your fingers. Rising to your feet, you step close to him, your fingers deftly slipping the tie around his neck. The familiar action feels intimate, almost like a ritual between the two of you, a small moment of connection in your busy lives.

As you slowly begin to tie it, your fingers working methodically, you glance up at him. "How long is the event?" you ask, your voice soft and caring, eyes meeting his with genuine concern.

"I probably won't be home until after two," he says with a sigh, his shoulders slumping slightly as the weight of his long night ahead settles in. The lines of fatigue on his face tug at your heart.

"It's okay. I want you to have fun," you murmur, focusing on the tie but feeling the sincerity of your words. "I'll be busy with dinner and my book anyway."

Mingyu watches you, his eyes softening as he takes in your familiar, comforting presence. "I wish you could come with me," he says quietly, his hands gently resting on your hips as you finish tying the knot. His touch is warm and grounding, a silent promise of his affection.

You tighten the tie and smooth it down, patting his chest gently. "You know I'd love to, but someone's got to hold down the fort here," you reply jokingly, your smile warm and reassuring.

He chuckles, the sound deep and rich, resonating in the quiet of the room. He leans down to press a soft kiss to your forehead, his lips lingering against your skin. "What would I do without you?" he murmurs, his voice filled with a mix of gratitude and love.

You smile, wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling him into a warm embrace. "Let's not find out," you whisper, your cheek pressed against his, feeling the steady beat of his heart against yours.

Mingyu hugs you tightly, savoring the closeness, the scent of his cologne mingling with the comforting smell of home. When he finally pulls back, he looks down at you with a mix of love and reluctance. "I really should go," he says, though he doesn't make a move to leave just yet.

"I know," you reply, your fingers brushing a stray lock of hair from his forehead, tucking it back into place. "You'll be amazing, as always."

"Mm, especially with such a well-tied tie," he smiles playfully at you, his eyes twinkling with affection. "I'm so lucky for my boyfriend privilege."

You chuckle softly, resting your hands on his chest. "Yes, you're very privileged," you tease. "Just remember that when you're out there charming everyone."

Mingyu grins, leaning down to press another kiss to your forehead. "How could I forget? My number one fan is waiting for me at home."

You roll your eyes, but your smile is fond. "Just don't let it go to your head."

He laughs, the sound warm and rich. "No promises... I'll miss you," he says, his voice softening as he cups your face in his hands.

"I'll miss you too," you reply, covering his hands with yours.

He gives you one last lingering kiss, his lips warm and tender against yours, a promise of his return. "I'll try to be back as soon as I can," he promises, his voice filled with genuine affection, his hand squeezing yours gently.

"I'll be waiting," you say softly, watching as he finally turns to leave, the door clicking shut behind him. The room feels a little emptier without him, but you return to bed, your book waiting patiently. For a moment, you just sit there, feeling the lingering warmth of his presence and the subtle ache of his absence, already looking forward to his return.

ଘ(੭◌ˊᵕˋ)੭* ੈ♡‧₊˚ ... 11?

The winter chill had settled in, but the warmth of Valentine's Day wrapped the city in a blanket of love and excitement. The air was crisp, carrying the faint scent of snow, mingling with the fragrance of roses that seemed to bloom on every corner. Everywhere you looked, couples were bundled up in cozy scarves and gloves, holding hands, sharing tender smiles, and exchanging sweet nothings. The city streets were transformed into a romantic wonderland, with heart-shaped lights casting a soft, warm glow on the cobblestone paths, creating a dreamy ambiance that made everything feel just a little more magical.

Mingyu had planned the entire day with meticulous care, wanting to make every moment special for you. The day began with the gentle sound of his voice waking you, and when you opened your eyes, there he was, holding a tray with breakfast in bed—fluffy pancakes drizzled with syrup, topped with fresh berries, and a steaming cup of your favorite coffee. The sweet aroma filled the room, and as you shared the meal, you couldn't help but smile at how perfectly the day had started.

The afternoon was spent strolling through the city, the two of you arm in arm as you visited all your favorite spots. The streets were alive with the hustle and bustle of the holiday, but for you, time seemed to slow down, every moment stretching into something memorable. You laughed over shared memories, pointing out familiar landmarks and reliving inside jokes that only the two of you understood. The cold air bit at your cheeks, but it was no match for the warmth of Mingyu's hand holding yours, or the way his laughter seemed to melt the chill away.

As the sun dipped below the horizon, casting a soft, golden light over the city, Mingyu surprised you with dinner at the restaurant where you’d had your first date. The sight of the familiar entrance made your heart skip a beat, and when you stepped inside, the ambiance was perfect—low lights that cast a gentle glow over the intimate setting, soft music playing in the background, and a table tucked away in a quiet corner just for the two of you. Mingyu looked absolutely perfect, the flickering candlelight highlighting his features, making his eyes sparkle with a warmth that mirrored the love in your heart.

He was wearing the turtleneck you had gotten him last December, the deep burgundy color standing out beautifully under his sleek black coat. The sight of him, so effortlessly handsome, made you fall in love with him all over again.

The dinner was delicious, every bite savored as you reminisced about that first date and how far you'd come since then. But as the evening went on, you noticed a certain tension in Mingyu—a subtle shift in his demeanor. He was attentive as always, but his hand gripped yours just a little tighter, and his eyes, though filled with affection, seemed to hold something more—an emotion he hadn’t yet put into words.

When dessert was finished and the check was paid, Mingyu suggested a walk through the park. The idea seemed simple, but there was something in his tone that made your heart flutter with anticipation. The park was beautifully decorated for the holiday, with twinkling fairy lights wrapped around the trees and heart-shaped lanterns swaying gently from the branches. The path was dusted with a light layer of snow, which crunched softly underfoot as you walked side by side, the sound mingling with the distant laughter of other couples enjoying the night.

The cold nipped at your nose, but Mingyu’s presence kept you warm. He walked close to you, his shoulder brushing against yours with every step, and as you made your way deeper into the park, you couldn’t help but notice how quiet he had become. His hand, warm and reassuring in yours, was steady, but there was a nervous energy beneath the surface, a sense of something important hanging in the air between you.

The two of you walked in comfortable silence, the world around you gradually fading into the background as you simply enjoyed being together. The park was peaceful, the night air crisp and clear, with the soft crunch of snow underfoot being the only sound between you. The distant twinkle of lights reflected off the lake's surface, casting a serene, almost magical glow over the scene. The sky above was an expanse of deep navy, dotted with stars that peeked out from behind the clouds, adding to the romantic atmosphere.

As you approached a secluded bench near the lake, Mingyu began to slow down, his footsteps becoming more deliberate. His breath was visible in the cold air, curling upward in soft, white puffs. The quietude around you seemed to intensify, amplifying the sound of your heartbeat in your ears. Mingyu stopped walking and turned to face you, his eyes reflecting the soft glow of the lights strung up in the trees, making them look like they were sparkling with unshed emotions.

"Are you cold?" he asked, his voice gentle, almost tender, as he pulled you closer. Without waiting for your response, he wrapped his coat around you, his touch protective and warm.

"Not with you here," you replied with a smile, leaning into his embrace, feeling the steady rise and fall of his chest against yours. But as you looked up at him, you noticed something different, a subtle tension in his expression. "... you're unusually quiet tonight. Is everything okay?"

Mingyu smiled, though there was a trace of nervousness in his eyes, a flicker of vulnerability that made your heart skip a beat. "There's something I've been wanting to say all day," he began, his tone serious but laced with affection, each word carefully chosen. "Valentine's Day is all about celebrating love, right?"

You nodded, curiosity piqued, your gaze never leaving his. "Right..."

He took a deep breath, the cold air filling his lungs before he released it slowly, his hands still holding yours, their warmth grounding you both. His expression softened, and the affection in his eyes deepened, becoming almost palpable. "Well, I wanted to celebrate us... You know how I've always said I'm lucky to have boyfriend privileges?" His lips curled into a small, playful smile, the familiar phrase bringing a rush of warmth to your chest. It was an inside joke that had grown between you, a phrase that had come to symbolize the depth of his love.

You laughed lightly, nodding, your heart fluttering. "You've mentioned it a time or two."

"Well," he continued, the playful edge in his voice giving way to something more serious, more profound. His grip on your hands tightened slightly, as if anchoring himself for what he was about to say. "I've been thinking a lot about what that really means. About how much I love you, and how my life has been so much better with you in it. I don't just want boyfriend privileges anymore. I want... something more."

The air around you seemed to still, the world shrinking down to just the two of you. Mingyu's words hung in the air, heavy with meaning, and you found yourself holding your breath, your heart pounding in anticipation.

"Mingyu... what are you saying?" you whispered, your voice trembling slightly as you searched his eyes, hoping for confirmation of what you suspected.

"... I want husband privileges," he said softly, his voice thick with emotion. The words tumbled out like a secret he had been holding close to his heart, and as they settled between you, the weight of them was almost overwhelming.

Your heart skipped a beat as his words sank in, sending a rush of emotion through your entire being. Before you could fully process what was happening, Mingyu reached into his coat pocket and pulled out a small velvet box. The deep burgundy of the box stood out against the black fabric of his coat, catching the faint light from the lanterns around you. Your breath caught in your throat as he dropped to one knee, the world around you dissolving into a blur. The soft glow of the lights reflected in his eyes, making them shine with a love so intense it took your breath away.

"Will you marry me?" he asked, his voice trembling slightly, each word laced with raw emotion. "Will you let me spend the rest of my life loving you, taking care of you, and being your forever? I want to be your husband, not just today, not just tomorrow, but every day for the rest of our lives."

The sincerity in his voice, the way his hands trembled ever so slightly as he held the ring, and the sheer vulnerability in his gaze made tears well up in your eyes. Your hand flew to your mouth in disbelief, your heart pounding in your chest as the magnitude of the moment hit you. The world seemed to stop, the night holding its breath as you looked down at him, his expression filled with hope, love, and adoration.

"Mingyu," you whispered, your voice shaking with emotion, each word carrying the weight of your love for him. "Yes. Of course, I'll marry you!"

The tension in his shoulders melted away as his face broke into the widest smile, relief and joy flooding his features. His eyes sparkled with happiness as he carefully slipped the ring onto your finger, his touch gentle and reverent. The ring was perfect—simple, elegant, and exactly what you would have chosen. It glimmered softly in the light, a tangible symbol of the promise you had just made to each other.

Without hesitation, Mingyu stood up, wrapping you in his arms and lifting you off your feet. He spun you around in a joyful whirl, the cold air forgotten as you both laughed, the sound echoing through the quiet park. The night seemed to come alive with your happiness, the trees around you swaying gently as if to share in your joy.

When he finally set you down, his arms remained around you, pulling you into a kiss. His hands cradled your face, his thumbs gently brushing against your cheeks, his touch warm and steady. The tenderness in his grip made your heart swell, and as he leaned in, you could feel his breath mingling with yours, a soft, shared anticipation hanging in the air. When his lips finally met yours, it was as if time itself slowed. The kiss was soft at first, a delicate, reverent connection that conveyed everything words couldn’t.

But then, it deepened, his lips moving against yours with a slow, purposeful intensity that sent a shiver down your spine. Each movement was deliberate, filled with a passion that burned through you, igniting every nerve. His kiss wasn’t just an expression of love—it was a promise, a vow sealed with every ounce of emotion he had been holding back. You could feel his love in the way his hands held you, not too tight, but firm enough that you knew he never wanted to let go.

As his lips molded perfectly against yours, the rest of the world faded into oblivion. The cold night air, the distant sounds of the city, even the twinkling lights around you—all of it dissolved into the background, leaving only the warmth of his kiss, the rapid beat of your heart, and the overwhelming flood of emotion between you. It was as if the two of you existed in your own universe, a moment suspended in time where nothing else mattered.

"I love you," he whispered against your lips, his voice filled with reverence and devotion, as if the words were sacred.

Tears still glistening in your eyes, you smiled up at him, your heart bursting with happiness. "I love you too, Mingyu. I hope you're ready for all the husband privileges."

He laughed, the sound rich and full of joy, resonating with the happiness that radiated from him. It was a laugh that spoke of a future filled with love, laughter, and countless more moments like this. He pulled you into another embrace, his arms holding you close as if he never wanted to let go. "This is the best Valentine’s Day of my life," he murmured into your hair, his voice thick with emotion.

"It’s just the beginning, baby," you whispered back, your fingers tracing the outline of his jaw as you looked up at him, memorizing every detail of his face, every line that spoke of his love for you.

The two of you stood there in the park, wrapped in each other’s arms as the lights twinkled around you, the cold air nipping at your cheeks but failing to penetrate the warmth that enveloped you both. The world seemed to fade away, leaving just the two of you in a moment that felt like it would last forever.

As you walked back home, hand in hand, the silence between you was filled with contentment and the unspoken promises of what was to come. You couldn’t help but glance down at the ring on your finger. The excitement of what lay ahead filled you with warmth, and as you leaned into Mingyu, you knew that your life together would be filled with endless love, laughter, and, of course, husband privileges.

feedback is always welcomed!

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[slvttyplum]

sukuna and valentine’s day—ever think you would see those three words together? sukuna didn’t get the whole point of valentine’s day but did it anyway just for you, still grumpy and groaning while picking out your favorite things from the store. “here, i got you the damn flowers and chocolates; now stop pestering me.” looking at your smile made his heart full; he couldn’t help but make you happy even if that meant spending money on a “holiday” he denied time and time again. of course, that was just the end result. smiling at you for a few seconds before he began to whine again. he did the same shit every year where the both of you would go back and forth about valentine’s day, and he would groan, saying he wasn’t getting you anything. “use your brain! this is what they want you to do; i’m not getting that damn bag.” then, in the next breath, he would ask how much the purse was—“just in case”—while saying there was only a five percent chance of that happening. sukuna didn’t know peace; he always found a way to put his two cents in when it was time to celebrate something. after finally getting to valentine’s day and admiring how beautiful you looked, his eyes full of love, he just couldn’t let you have the last word. it was foreign to him. he had to let you know every thought that was going through his head; it was only fair since he went ahead and spoiled you, right? “you’re spoiled rotten. i still think this is a load of bull.” a fight all over again, the fight eventually leading to the pretty decorated bedroom he tried his hardest to set up, but it didn’t go to waste, nor did it stop the argument. sukuna’s hands on your hips as he slammed into you, grunting, he tried to talk and spit out more points, but he was consumed by pleasure. he had a fucking loose screw because he was still arguing with you while he stretched you out. “fuck… i just think you need to be appreciative.” while you squeezed around him, sukuna was still trying to prove his point, but he couldn’t think when his cum was dripping out of you. even having the audacity to have you ride him because his leg cramped up, just to keep running his filthy ass mouth. it was all worth it at the end of the day, at least for you; he still found something to complain about, but neither of you would have it any other way. “… you’re not getting anything next year; i’m serious.” until next time. ;)

[muffinlance]

Some spirit manages to get the gaang and zuko a link that connects their minds. They can share thoughts and their past with each other.

Tweaking this to “and they share dreams” because that’s how I started writing it.

---

“Okay,” Sokka says, wrapping his sleeping bag around himself, and grabbing a comfort Momo, too. “Who’s dream was that?”

No one ‘fesses up. But it was kind of a rude question, and also a little rhetorical, anyway.

They all have nightmares with fire.

Having the Fire Lord himself looming over them, while they were on their knees? Not exactly a stretch.

---

“Okay,” Sokka says, “how does Prince Jerkface keep finding us?”

---

“Okay,” Sokka says, “how did he know that seal jerky seasoned just right with honey—not too much, just enough to add a sparkle of sweetness to the depths of savoriness, a perfect balance for the distinguished tongue to relish—was the perfect bait for his Sokka and Sokka-affliated-parties trap?”

“Maybe if you stop dreaming about it, Sokka,” Katara snaps.

...And they all stop.

---

“I’m going to think really really hard about being friends,” Aang says.

“I’m going to think really really hard about that time my boomerang hit him,” says Sokka.

---

Snatching the boomerang out of midair? Impressive.

Ignoring the Avatar to go hit Sokka with it? Repeatedly? Uncalled for.

---

“Sokka. The city is under attack. Right now.”

“Okay,” Sokka says. “But this is a strategic nap, Katara. We need to know what evil things our Evil Other is up to.”

It’s not like the evil fleet part was a surprise, at least. They’ve been dreaming of it for weeks.

---

“Okay,” Sokka says, looking down. “So the ship-blowing-up-thing. Not a nightmare?”

“No,” says Zuko, glaring up with his glare-face all glare-ful but his thoughts mostly full of bruises so deep they’re making Sokka’s ribs ache, and also his legs are going numb.

“Going to get out of the turtle-seal tunnel now?” Sokka asks, still standing over the opening. With his boomerang.

“...No,” the Prince of the Fire Nation says, as he clings onto the edge of the hole, his legs still very much in freezing water.

---

“Okay,” Sokka says, when they have a Fire Prince all tied up in Blankets of Imprisonment. “So. What actually was your plan here? Do not,” he interrupts, before the teenage-shaped bloodhound-leech can do more than open his mouth, “say ‘capture the Avatar.’”

The prince closes his mouth. Glares. And kind of fuzzes at the edges, in the way all of them do when they’re about to fall asleep.

BOOMERANG, Sokka thinks, and Prince Largely Ineffective As An Enemy jerks back upright. His Momo hat chitters a complaint.

“Since we both know your answer is ‘I had no plan, Sokka, ‘plan’ starts with ‘p’ and there’s no ‘p’ in ‘Avatar’’, we’re going to play a game instead. It’s called ‘sleepy prince free association interrogation time.’”

“...What?”

“Battle plans,” Sokka says. “Attack. Fire Navy fleet. Ship numbers.”

Alas, “Fire Nation intelligence” is not something with which the prince’s brain is overly burdened.

“...Are you insulting me?”

“Are you proving my point?”

Elsewhere, Yue laughs in all their heads. Zuko flinches. The prince has a very marked reaction to the laughter of princesses.

---

“Okay,” says Sokka. “So that just happened.”

Commander Mutton Chops is groaning. Kind of flopping. Much like the bag he tried to fireball. Yue picks it up, and gently wrangles a fish back into water. Sokka is still not clear on what the fish-napping was about.

“It’s the Moon,” Aang says. “Or maybe the Ocean?”

Aang’s thoughts are full of a FACE STEALING EVIL CENTIPEDE MONSTER THAT IS JUST ON THE OTHER SIDE OF THE THIN VEIL OF REALITY and that is NOT helping Sokka think.

“Okay,” he says again. “So. At least we can all agree on one thing.”

This is a very diplomatic way of saying they all wanted to dropkick Zhao. But some of them wanted to do it more than others.

The prince of the Fire Nation is even paler than normal, and staring across the clearing at his uncle.

“I can explain,” the prince says, while he’s thinking, oh shit treason oh crap uncle wouldn’t hurt me thought that about father too

Sokka wordlessly plucks Momo from the edge of the pond, where he’s been swiping at the spirit-fish, and drops him on the prince’s head.

Everyone needs a comfort Momo, now and again.

---

“A raft, Zuko?” Sokka says. Outloud. Because it makes things louder when you say it and think it. “A raft?”

Aang is bouncing on his toes. “We should go get him.”

The Avatar is grinning. And thinking, really hard and deliberately, as behind them the Water Tribe ship finishes packing, We should capture the Fire Prince,

“Okay,” Sokka says, with a grin.

[ssahotchnerr]

Valentines Day request you say? 😏

What about hotch x bau!reader’s first Valentine’s Day together but they’re away on a case and Hotch still desperately tries to make it special for his honey 😞😞😞😞

redefining romance

happy valentine's day! 🥰 cw; bau!reader, established relationship, bau family banter, brief food mentions, aaron being the sweetest, fluff <3 wc; 1.2k

You couldn't deny feeling a bit disappointed. You weren't surprised, but disappointed.

The last place you were hoping to spend your very first Valentine's Day with Aaron was on a case. Instead of sharing a quiet, intimate evening together, you were spending it in a precinct, miles away from home and far from anything that resembled love. In it's place, a sterile environment - fluorescent lights rather than candles, takeout consumed over case files instead of a fancy dinner.

It especially didn't help that you had brief knowledge of his would-have-been plans too. He had playfully asked if you had made prior plans, because he intended on taking you out. The only hint he gave was that your first stop would be a fancy restaurant - disclosed only so you were aware to dress accordingly - but the rest of the night would remain unbeknownst to you.

And now it was merely a reservation you wouldn't make.

You accepted this was something you would have to get used to. With such a demanding and unpredictable job, it came as no shock. In addition, you were positive this wouldn't be the last Valentine's day you spent in the field. Or holiday, at that.

But it still sucked regardless.

Instead than sulking entirely, you had to make the most of it: Aaron wore a red tie in the day's honor, chosen by you. The police department was scarcely decorated - some of the officers had felt festive enough. JJ even stopped to get pink and red donuts for breakfast on the way in. You also managed to be in a SUV with Aaron at one point, just the two of you, allowing him to comfortably hold your hand on the road.

The day had flown by before you even realized it. Before long, you found yourself back at the hotel with the others, parting ways for the night.

"We'll see you all in the morning," Aaron told the group, not-so-discreetly placing a hand on your back, the usual comments following.

"Goodnight," Derek offered the two of you a wink, the words leaving him in a sing-song tone.

"Remember, I'm an old man who needs his sleep." Dave also gave both of you a pointed look, causing Aaron to roll his eyes.

"Goodnight Dave."

"They're crazy," you laughed once the two of you reached your respective door, grabbing the keycard from your wallet. You faintly heard Emily tossing back the words to enjoy what you could of the rest of the day.

"They're jealous," Aaron humorously commented, causing you to laugh again as you pushed open the door, flicking the light on.

Much to your surprise, the light revealed a bouquet of flowers on the table, joined by chocolate covered strawberries. Not only that, flower petals were scattered amongst the duvet. You blinked, as if the display would somehow disappear.

Aaron trailed in behind you, a small smile on his face.

You turned to him, surprise blatant on your face. "You...?"

"Yeah," he confirmed casually, a warmth in his eyes that enveloped you from the inside out.

"When did you manage to do this?" Quickly, you replayed the day in your mind, searching for a moment when he could have slipped away, but came up with nothing. You admired the flowers, in stunned awe.

"I can't reveal all my secrets, can I?" He grinned. There was a quiet satisfaction in his expression, knowing he had successfully pulled it off, but mainly because you were so overjoyed.

"Aaron..." A million words were in your mind, but vocally, you couldn't help but be speechless. So you did the only thing that could get your message across - you grabbed the lapels of his jacket, fiercely pulling him close and kissing him.

Aaron reciprocated, holding you close.

"It's our first Valentine's Day. You didn't think I wouldn't try to make it special somehow, did you?" He teased once the two of you parted, arching an eyebrow.

"But I didn't-"

While you did have a heartfelt card for him, it wasn't a gesture as grand as this, his 'little something' waiting at home.

He waved off your comment. "Don't worry about it, please. Besides, this is the first Valentine's Day I've had in a while." His smile was effortlessly endearing. "I had to go all out one way or another. Not that I need an excuse to spoil you, you already know I don't need that. But our Valentine's Day looks different compared to others, given our job demands. So it may have to look like, this, here and there. If that's okay."

"Of course it is," you answered quickly, your gaze softening.

"And this," he briefly held up a finger, handing you a red, folded piece of paper. "Is from your other valentine."

"My other valentine?" You laughed softly in confusion, opening it up and your heart melting.

It was a handmade card, complete with messily-cut hearts. You recognized the writing immediately. Happy Valentine's Day! was in Jack's slightly messy third grade penmanship. He even included a small drawn portrait of the three of you.

You'll keep it forever.

Aaron sat on the bed, pulling you onto his lap. You lifted your eyes from the card, finding his serious yet sweet expression on his face. "I know it's not what we had originally planned. And we're still celebrating fully once we're home. I've already talked to Jess, she's more than willing to take Jack for one more night."

"Truthfully, I was kinda down about it all day," you admitted as your gaze dropped again, feeling silly.

"I know." His lips drew in a pensive line, his hand rubbing your hip comfortably.

"But you're right. They will look different, and we're lucky too. We still get to spend the day together, a lot of agents can't say the same for their significant other. And spur of the moment things like this, are so romantic and spontaneous and it..." Again, you were lost for words and overwhelmed by love. "This is perfect."

You felt deeply cherished, truly adored. That despite working, Aaron had gone out of his way to ensure your first Valentines would be special and memorable. It was a reminder that, no matter the circumstances, he would always find a way to make you feel loved. In a way, the two of you didn't quite need to celebrate further. This was more than enough.

"Hey, that's the word I would use to describe you."

"Really?" You leaned back slightly to get a better look at him, raising an eyebrow. "Smooth talking me, Hotchner?" You teased. But all jokes aside, you leaned back in, giving him a kiss. "Thank you, you're amazing. I love you so much."

"I love you. So much." He couldn't help himself, pressing his lips to yours and his chest filling up with love, as if every beat of his heart was made just for you (which, it was).

Eventually Aaron got up, removing his suit jacket.

"I still can't believe you," you said with a laugh, shaking your head and letting your fingers sift through the scattered petals. "I swear, I didn't see you leave once. And wait- did you pack these?"

"Don't get any ideas," he teased, undoing the cuffs on his sleeves as he stood above you. "As romantic as I am, we are on the job."

"Oh?" You grabbed his tie, firmly pulling him near. "I think we're not until the morning."

[girlbeatings]

⏦ﾟ♡︎ bff!abby who you hooked up with during your experimental phase in college, giving you for sure the best orgasm of your comphet life, and yet you still fall for a douchbag guy that doesn't treat you as well as you thought he would. poor thing.

⏦ﾟ♡︎ bff!abby that helps you get ready for your wedding with said douchbag, forcing a smile and making sure you looked the part of a future lobotomised, white picket fence house wife. she felt bad for you, you had no idea what you were signing up for by accepting this ring as a sign of your 'love' and 'fidelity'. you'd probably realize way too late in life, maybe late 30s, that this is not what you wanted.

⏦ﾟ♡︎ bff!abby that feels just so sorry for you, that she holds you close and tells you how pretty you look today, the happiest day of your life. "always knew you'd make such a pretty little bride.. i mean, look at you..." her voice trails off as she tilts your chin up to guide your attention to the full length mirror. you did look pretty, the fancy white dress, perfect makeup and hair. perfect.

⏦ﾟ♡︎ bff!abby who stares at you through the reflection and gets an idea. a trip down memory lane, before you walk down the aisle.

"this fucking dress... makes you look so cute," she mumbles, her voice slightly forced as she stares at the lewd scene in the mirror. you pant and tremble, white heels dangling off your toes and the dress bunched up at your hips.

abby groans as she watches your cunt leak around two of her thick fingers, sat between her spread thighs and your back against her chest as you struggle to keep yourself together. "does he fuck you this good, baby? bet his dick isn't as big as mine, huh."

it wasn't, you know that much. abby's fingers with girthy, just two of them made you writhe and squelch, and that fucking strap she whipped out a few years ago had your sexual fantazies in a chokehold. the way you were so soaked that it just slipped in and out of your pussy without any struggle at all, the faux veins rippling against your insides and hitting all the right spots until you couldn't take it— and what did abby do then? she held you down and made you cum over and over.

your fiancé couldn't compare even if he tried, which he didn't. you were lucky if he even looked at your clit, never mind the sort of tricks abby was doing on it now.

"my pretty little girl, all dressed in white..." she murmurs, her fingers tapping firmly on your clit before rubbing in circles, watching your face scrunch up and your hips roll against her hand. "he's such a lucky man."

there's jealousy clear in her tone, because god she wants you. not just your body, she wants your fucking soul. your dna intertwined with her own. but she can't have that, because you don't like girls.

though, your face says different when her fingers stuff you full again. your head's empty at this point, so there's no lame excuse as to why you were happily letting your best friend fuck you minutes before your wedding, your soon to be husband already stood at the altar.

her fingers curl up to find that spot, smiling when your body almost lurches forward off the bed at the singeing pleasure that spikes through you. luckily, abby's arm is locked around your waist, and you stay pressed against her as she finger fucks you just how you remember— maybe even better. she clearly had more experience now. are you jealous?

"gonna fuck every vow out of that empty head." she promises, her thumb starting to abuse your clit in time with her plunging fingers, tears starting to bubble in your eyes as you writhe.

"a-abs, i'm— mmph, abby.."

"i know, wifey... pretty pussy's missed me so much, hasn't she?" she whispers, pressing a kiss to your neck as her hand continues to work perfectly between your spread legs. you know you'd think about this on your honeymoon, you'd think about her when your laid next to your husband, unhappy and yearning for her to come save you. and who knows? maybe after a few glasses of wine with your old college friend, she fucks you until you ruin that marital mattress for good.

happy valentine's day !!

⏦ﾟ♡︎ taglist !

@uhh-lana @pearlcigs @abbyspup @sunrxxyz @graciedollie @starrrcane @lilyyx0 @444fernz @tqlepatia @nvr4getme @2012wannabe @jaywritessometimes @jinxedbambi @tohoko @sapphicloverwlw @shadowmythe @fict1onallyobsessed @pornoangelz @milanyas @powderpinkandsweeet @femmecannibal @aeroti @eatencupcak3 @lils-1979 @sobersonder @dozybunny @fawncritter @nahcala @lesbones @sapphicantichrist @ethereaally @ruelezz @90yearoldbear

[witherby]

Wait I kinda wanna see mousy’s blow up 🤭

You can absolutely see the blow up 😏

The Littlest Wayne: Boiling Point

The post that inspired this response is Here!

Masterlist is Here!

You can't remember what started the argument. An errant comment, some joke in poor taste, an accusatory question — it could have been anything. All you know is that you said something you felt was important, Damian ignored it, Tim dismissed it, and Dick acted like you hadn't said it to begin with, and now you're livid and don't want to finish your dinner.

"May I be excused," you say to Alfred, already pushing your chair back from the table before he can respond. Your grandfather gives you a concerned look, but nods.

"Shall I bring something up to you later, young master?" He asks. You don't know if you'll have any appetite by then, but you agree anyway to spare his feelings.

"Where are you going?" Bruce asks, frowning as you stand to leave. "I haven't seen you in a week, honey. Even if you're not hungry, can you sit a while?"

"Whose fault is that," you snap. The room gets real quiet after that, a mixture of surprise and incredulity painting your father's face.

"Excuse me?"

"I'm not making you go anywhere, dad," you scowl, "if you missed me then you'd find the time to see me."

"Hold on. I don't think that's very fair," Hal speaks up, reaching for your hand. You pull it away from him. "Mouse —"

"It's fine," you say, "the needs of the many outweigh the needs of one. I'm well aware. It's fine. We'll spend time together some other day. Go stop a robbery or rescue some damsels or something."

"What's with the 'tude, Flitty?" Dick pipes up, standing to block the door. "Pump the brakes for a sec. Talk to us."

"Talk to you? What, so when you inevitably forget this conversation happened you can pretend we never had it to begin with?" You sneer at your brother, looking him up and down. "No thanks. I'm not interested in being gaslit today."

"Gaslit?" Dick balks, looking like you struck him. "I've never —"

"Let them go, Dick," Tim says, twirling a bite of pasta around his fork. "It's just hormones. They'll go back to normal by tomorrow."

"Oh, of course it's just hormones," you scoff, whirling around to point a finger at Tim. "If it's got a logical explanation it's not worth dwelling on. Isn't that right? I can't be upset because I'm just going through puberty! There's no way it's acceptable for me to be upset over anything! My feelings don't matter, so they should be swept under the rug, just like your parents did to you!"

Tim drops his fork in surprise. A bit of pasta sauce hits Damian's check, and he grabs his napkin with an irritated grumble.

"This is such nonsense," the boy mutters.

"Everything that doesn't interest you personally is nonsense," you hiss at your youngest brother. "God forbid someone try to share their love for a hobby that's outside of what you find enjoyable. If the Blood Son doesn't give it his seal of approval, it's not worth the effort! Honestly, I should feel grateful you've blessed us with your presence at all! Surely your inferior siblings are barely worth your invaluable time!"

Your heart's racing. All the little, irritating things about your family that's been piling up inside you are spilling out. Your anger turns the internal hurt into external jabs and low blows, the darkest part of you wanting them to feel just a fraction of your pain at how flippantly they treat you sometimes.

"Sorry, did that upset you, Dami? Aww, it's okay! Like Tim says, it's just an emotional response brought on by some underlying factor! It won't last so it's not worth devoting your time to! And if you're like Dicky, you can just wave it away and say it never happened, no matter what you show him to prove it did! Maybe if you hadn't had the time to make it to dinner and spent weeks or months rushing off to do something more important at the start, you wouldn't have to sit through this conversation at all! Hope that helps!"

A hand comes down on your shoulder, silencing your rant. You whip around to find Jason staring down at you with a heartbroken frown. He looks so genuinely upset that any remaining anger dissipates immediately.

"Mousey," he whispers, "stop. Take a breath."

He looks so blurry. You blink a couple times and realize your panting and crying. No one will look you directly in the eyes except for Alfred, who's visibly tired. There's pity in his eyes.

It stings. God. Everything stings. Your face flushes with color as you realize what you've said and done. You want the earth to open up and swallow you.

It doesn't have to be the earth.

Before anyone can protest, your shadow wraps around your ankles and drags you down, then dissipates.

"Mouse, don't —" Jason kneels on the floor, just a hair too slow. "Fuck."

[no-blastbeat-no-applause]

A little while ago I wrote a little something about that. I just finished translating it into english. Here are my thoughts:

Wimp

Thoughts on the patriarchy and why this crap sucks for men too

Queen Energy

I mindlessly let Instagram videos wash over my mind. A sketch wakes me from my pleasant torpor:

A woman dressed in a negligee talks to her husband. She orders him to have sex with her immediately. He says he is tired, he has just come home from work. He doesn't feel like it either. She is not interested. She becomes more direct and aggressive in her statements and demands. All of this culminates in her forcibly shoving a cookie into his mouth, repeating her order and expectantly marching off towards the bedroom.

The comment column is rolling with laughter, congratulates the woman and agrees with her demands. The comments reads something like:

"Her story, her rules, her empire." "Queen energy! This is the vibe we all need!" "Taking what's hers like it was always meant to be"

She should take what she needs; her husband should be a real guy and get it for his wife if and when she wants it.

So the point is: he's a wimp if he doesn't put himself and his needs first. He's not a real man because he doesn't jump when his wife is in the mood.

Let's imagine the gender roles reversed. A man comes home and tells his wife to wait for him naked in the bedroom because he wants to have sex. Regardless of her wishes and desires. Most people would find this behavior unacceptable. And rightly so.

Here though, sexual harassment is portrayed as a joke. Neither the producers nor the recipients seem to be fazed by this.

Such scenes suggest that men always have to be ready and willing. This stereotypical expectation completely ignores the fact that men are also people with boundaries who want to say "yes" or "no". However, in our society - as the comments column impressively shows - they are often denied this choice. Men are not even given the opportunity to prioritize their own wishes because their "yes" is taken for granted. If they do try to set boundaries, they are met with a lack of understanding, rejection, ridicule or even violence. This creates a burden that is subtle but always present.

The video and its comments make fun of a man whose freedom of choice over his own body has been taken away, making him yet another victim of patriarchy and toxic masculinity.

First naked and then alone in the corridor

I was 12 when my mother drove me and my ten-year-old sister to our pediatrician. Everything started as business as usual. The doctor asked us general questions, she took our blood pressure and did what doctors do.

Then something happened that I still remember vividly today. As a burgeoning teenager, I had to get naked from the wais down and lie down on a couch to be examined. My mother and sister both stayed in the room. I was embarrassed. I found it downright agonizing.

The doctor plucked at my penis for several minutes. I didn't know where to look. My face turned bright red and my hands got wet. I was suddenly terribly aware of how my kneecaps felt under my skin.

Then it was finally over.

But now it became particularly irritating: it was my sister's turn. She was facing something similar - with one important difference. I was asked to leave.

Don't get me wrong, I had no interest in participating in my sister's gynecological exam. I just wished that the same consideration had been given to me, a little boy.

My feelings were not ignored, no. No one here had even bothered to take an interest in whether I had any. I was treated with the same respect as the couch in the treatment room. The question of my dignity was about as important as that of the desk.

But that was nothing new for a 12-year-old. After all, I learned to swallow my feelings before I even started elementary school.

"Are you a man or a mouse"?

Of course I'm a man, I'm already four! I suppress every feeling that my environment deems too much or inappropriate.

I've learned that „Indians don't cry.“* Neither do boys. I'm not supposed to make such a fuss and pull myself together.

It eats into your brain. It stays. For almost 40 years and it's still there.

How my tongue got bitten

My aunt was celebrating her sixtieth birthday. The whole thing ended in her favorite pub. We danced, sang, drank and enjoyed ourselves. I chatted with old acquaintances on the edge of the dance floor.

Suddenly, a woman snuck up on me. She started to dance at me aggressively. I found it quite flattering at first. The stranger danced very closely with me, focusing only on me. She made me feel wanted.

But after a while I became uncomfortable. She took it for granted that I would return her advances. She waited for me in front of the toilet. She gave me no opportunity to move without her. She put her arms around me and kissed me on the dance floor.

I didn't want to be seen like this by my family. It was impossible to talk to my friends, my aunt was at the other end of the pub. I told the stranger that I wanted to talk to my family, but she wouldn't let go of me. I spoke to friends, but she pushed her way in.

I could have said "No!" at any time, walked away and enjoyed my evening, sure. But I have internalized the lessons of my youth: my feelings are not important and I have to make my body available, regardless of my own wishes.

I only plucked up the courage to tear myself away when the stranger bit my tongue painfully, because: I didn't kiss her the way she wanted me to.

But even then, at the end of the night, my "No, I don't want that anymore" was met with a complete lack of understanding. She was offended that I was not responding to her wishes. She had never cared about my consensus or my needs.

I was now in a similar role to the man in the sketch: my feelings were put on the back burner in order to offer a woman what she wanted at that moment.

Neither the lady in the sketch nor the stranger at the pub inquired about the wishes of the men in question. None of them asked for consensus. None of them took what they were explicitly told seriously, because they, like all of us, have internalized these toxic patterns of thought and behaviour.

As a farewell, I got a contemptuous "wimp" shouted after me.

And why all this?

I am well aware that the people who suffer most from patriarchy are, of course, those who do not appear traditionally male to society. Women, intersex and trans people, all non-cis-hetero men, should by no means be ignored here. My perspective, however, is that of a cis-het man.

We men are taught that our feelings are not important. We have to be tough and endure instead of being vulnerable and talking openly about our needs. Our bodies are common property. We learn to accept assault and laugh it off.

• The woman in the negligee wants sex? Then go ahead! No matter what the man wants.

• The boy is ashamed to be looked at naked by three women? He shouldn't behave like that!

• A stranger decides you're her plaything this night? Fuck your wishes and your family!

If we don't conform to the norms, we are wimps. We are considered unmanly. We're not real guys.

We need to recognize the harmful influence of sexism on men.

While patriarchy generally privileges men, it also subjects us to restrictive gender roles that harm us.

Even those who are considered the most powerful in the patriarchal hierarchy suffer from it.

The supposed masters turn themselves into the oppressed.

Toxic masculinity harms us and everyone around us.

Sometimes I do wonder if men actually get sexually assaulted and abused at a similar rate that women do but a lot of them just don’t know that’s what’s happening to them

[catchastarorten]

—Babysit

Pairing: Kang Dae-ho x lover!fem!reader

Summary: your sister and her husband wanted a romantic night out, so they left their baby girl for you and Dae-ho to babysit.

Content: fluff, your niece is a sweetheart, comfort, cuddles, he would be such a good dad, English isn’t my first language, mistakes should be present, not proofread, sorry!

Word count: ~ 0.9k

You hadn’t planned on spending the evening babysitting, but when your sister called, practically glowing through the phone about her “much-needed” romantic night out, you couldn’t say no. She sounded so happy, and besides, it wasn’t like you and Dae-ho had anything else to do.

Now, here you were, standing in the middle of your small but cozy apartment, watching your niece barely wobbling on her feet, a ball of curiosity.

She explored every inch of your apartment, cooing at the strangest things—like the edge of the coffee table, the fabric of the couch, even the hem of Dae-ho’s sleeve. You had expected to feel exhausted keeping up with her, but instead, a warmth bloomed in your chest.

She nearly fell once, her tiny legs unable to balance after an attempt at climbing onto the couch. Your heart leapt into your throat, but before you could reach for her, Dae-ho had already caught her, his strong arms circling her tiny frame with effortless ease.

The baby blinked up at him in surprise before breaking into a delighted giggle.

“Oh, you think that’s funny?” Dae-ho chuckled, his deep voice gentle in a way you knew too well. He set her down carefully on the carpet, then crouched beside her. “Alright, let’s take this one step at a time, okay?”

She cooed, bouncing on her feet, and grabbed onto his outstretched hands as he guided her. She stumbled, but he never let her fall.

You smiled from where you sat on the couch, watching the two of them. The sight was unexpectedly heartwarming. Dae-ho was so patient with her in a way that made something deep inside your chest ache.

You had never really thought about him as a father before, but now, watching him crouch beside the baby, murmuring softly as he guided her across the room, the thought lingered in your mind.

Every time Dae-ho shifted, your niece's dark eyes followed him, wide and filled with trust. She clung to his fingers when she walked, her tiny feet tapping against the floor as she took cautious steps forward.

“She likes you,” you commented, gaze softening.

Dae-ho glanced up at you with a smile. “Well, I did save her from an untimely fall.”

You let out a chuckle, settling beside them on the floor as your niece plopped down, kicking her feet happily. She babbled something incoherent before reaching for your sleeve, tugging it as if she had something important to say.

“Oh? What is it?” you asked, leaning in curiously.

She responded by patting your cheek with her chubby hand, giggling at her own actions. Dae-ho laughed quietly at the sight.

You and him spent the next hour like that, playing and entertaining the baby, who seemed to have an endless supply of energy.

At one point, she discovered the small bookshelf in the corner and decided it was her mission to pull out every book within reach. Dae-ho sat beside her, handing them back as she babbled nonsense, clearly delighted with her newfound game.

The night was peaceful—until the storm rolled in.

It started with a soft patter of rain against the window, then came the distant rumble of thunder. At first, your niece didn’t seem to notice, too busy playing with the different couch pillows. But when a loud clap of thunder shook the apartment, she startled, her tiny fingers clenched into fists, and her lip wobbled before she let out a tiny, fearful whimper.

“Oh, sweetheart,” you murmured, immediately scooping her into your arms.

She buried her face against your chest, curling into you as if trying to disappear. You rocked her gently, rubbing circles on her back while whispering soft reassurances.

Dae-ho, who had been watching quietly, joined you on the couch. He didn’t say anything, just leaned in and placed a hand on her back, rubbing soothing circles.

“She’s scared,” you said softly, pressing a kiss to the top of her head.

Another roll of thunder crashed outside, and the baby let out a soft cry, burrowing even deeper into your embrace. Without hesitation, Dae-ho reached out and pulled both of you toward him, wrapping his arms around you in a loose but protective hold.

He shifted closer, pulling the blanket that was draped over the back of the couch around the three of you. “She’s safe,” he said, his voice low and steady.

Dae-ho rested his chin on the top of your head, one hand stroking the baby’s back soothingly. His other arm remained around you, his touch solid and steady.

“It’s okay,” he whispered to the baby. “We’ve got you.”

Your niece sniffled but didn’t cry again, just let out a long, shaky sigh as her tiny fingers loosened their grip.

The three of you curled together on the couch, a small huddle of warmth against the storm outside. You could hear the steady rhythm of her breathing as she finally began to drift off, her weight growing heavier as sleep took over.

You glanced at Dae-ho. He was watching her with something tender in his gaze. When he looked up and met your eyes, that same look softened into something deeper.

The rain continued its steady rhythm, and the thunder softened, growing distant. The apartment was quiet aside from the occasional rustle of the blanket and the soft, barely there snores of the baby girl nestled between the two of you.

Dae-ho was quiet for a moment, then pressed a kiss to your temple.

“I think we did pretty well,” he mumbled.

You smiled, resting your head against his shoulder. “Yeah. I think so too.”

[suugarbabe]

poly!slytherin boys x gn!reader; animagus!slytherin boys; ignoring the canon that once turning back from an animagus form that the person is naked because i want to :)

an: i know it's newer territory for this fandom (at least from what i've seen) so i hope you all love it

this is another addition to the yap sessions with my hubby @musingsofahufflepuff <33

“Merlin’s beard!” you swerved your hips to the side, nearly missing being taken out by a large German Shepherd. You made your way over to the sofa to cuddle up next to Enzo. He happily wrapped an arm around your shoulder and tucked you into his side. You watched as the German Shepherd chased a large grey and fluffy cat around the living room. “How long have they been at this?” You sunk further into the sofa, and thus further into Enzo’s chest as he let out a low laugh, “About twenty five minutes; not even sure what Nott did to make Matty chase him like this, but it’s been entertaining for sure.” 

Theo was always quick witted, and that skill definitely relayed to his animagus form as he quickly dodged Mattheo’s quick snap for his tail, zipping past in a blip of grey fur. “Matty’s getting a little quicker,” you smiled, Enzo nodded in agreement, “but don’t tell him I said that.” Enzo lifted both hands in surrender, “Oh I would never, darling.” 

As if Theo heard exactly what the two of you were saying, he took a different approach to avoiding Mattheo’s grasps. Theo took advantage of his smaller form, jumping from the floor to a chaise and finally up on a floating bookshelf. Poor Matty had too much momentum, not able to stop himself once he was in full motion and thus slamming head first into the wall beneath the shelf. You and Enzo winced in pain for him as Matty’s paws covered his snout while he whined. 

In the next moment Matty was no longer a German Shepherd but fully fledged himself, rolling from his back to his side and groaning, “Fucking hell, Theo. You’re such a fucking asshole.” You pushed up from the couch then, cooing out as you approached the scene, “Oh, my poor sweet boy.” Matty’s lower lip jutted as he sat up and leaned against the wall. You stretched out your arms and Matty mirrored you before his mouth fell open. You bypassed Mattheo completely, reaching up instead to grab Theo from the shelf. 

You wrapped your arms around Theo as he nuzzled further in to your hold, purring softly. Matty looked over toward Enzo, pout growing deeper, “Are you seeing this, babe?” Enzo put on a mock pout, opening his arms for Mattheo. The curly haired boy took the bait, pushing up from the floor and plopping down on the couch to let his boyfriend soothe his mental wounds. “They’re so mean to me, Enzie,” Mattheo mumbled into his chest. Enzo ran his hands through Mattheo’s curls, “I know, baby. So mean.” 

You scoffed, “You two are the most dramatic men I’ve ever met.” You sat down on the arm of the sofa, still holding Theo. Mattheo sat up at the accusation, “How dare you say that when you’re holding him.” He pointed at Theo lounging comfortably in your arms. Theo lazily turned his head towards Mattheo, meowing loudly. Mattheo threw a finger in the air, sticking out his tongue. Theo hissed back at Mattheo before you stood up, mumbling something about going in to the bedroom for a cuddle.

[lowkeyremi]

This man can't help but turn his sappiness up by 100% on valentines day. He already worships the ground you walk on, but on valentines day? Expect everything he does in tenfold.

You awake to the smell of breakfast cooking, and not just any breakfast.. your favorite meal. He must have turned off your alarm, because you had planned to wake up early and make him breakfast.

A little hum leaves your lips as you walk into the kitchen to see red decorations covering every surface, hearts galore, the whole nine yards.

When did he have time to do this? The house looked normal before you went to bed.

You don’t even make it into the kitchen before he’s scooping you off your feet.

“Morning, lovely.” He says peppering your face in kisses.

“What’s all this?” You ask, kissing him back.

“Oh y’know. Just Valentine’s Day stuff. To show just how much I love you.” He says setting you down onto the counter, gingerly.

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

After breakfast he’s treating you all day, not giving you the time of day to do anything by yourself, and it has nothing to do with power or feeling dominant, he purely loves you so, so much!

He takes you to all your favorite places, and when you complain about your feet hurting, he decides to carry you everywhere, no matter how embarrassing it may be.

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

And then there’s dinner. In the past he may have taken you out to a fancy restaurant, but this year he decided to cook all of your favorites. And he ordered your favorite dessert for later.

“This looks delicious baby, thank you.” He’s pushed in your chair at this point, still standing behind you. You lift your head to kiss his lips and he reciprocates quickly.

“It’s no problem, honey. This is the least I could do.” The least?? Man you’ve definitely won in life.

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

What came after dinner had to be your favorite.

Once you were full, and satisfied, he carried you to the bed, kissing every inch of your beautiful body.

“God, I fucking love you, sweetheart.” He says, as he gets his fill of you. He thinks you taste so sweet, and he’s addicted.

After making love to you, he runs you a bath, (with flower petals, essential oils, once again the whole shebang) helping you in when it’s done.

As the two of you bathe together he massages all the spots where you’re tense.

“I love you.” He hums quietly.

You smile widely, you know he really means it, not just on today, but every single day, he loves you with his whole heart.

“I love you, too.”

BOKUTO, osamu, hinata, KITA, ushijima (hq)

NANAMI, yuta, choso, TODO (jjk)

keigo, aizawa, MIDORIYA, iida, KIRISHIMA (bnha)

RENGOKU, giyuu, GYOMEI (kny)

JEAN, levi, ARMIN (aot)

KEN KEN KEN!!!! (draken), mitsuya, hakkai, souya (angry), BAJI (tokyo rev)

banner by: cafekitsune !

©𝐋𝐎𝐖𝐊𝐄𝐘𝐑𝐄𝐌𝐈 All works are written by me! Please do not copy, translate, or upload onto other sites thanks!

[ryozakidesu]

illicit affairs - l.hc

4/4 of diary of the heartbreakers

summary:➸ ♡ Infamous for being every girl's guilty pleasure, Lee Haechan strutted through his life shamelessly. But recently, the new girl caught his eye. Im Hayeon, who he believes that would finally tame his wreckless heart. He was confident he could get the girl. And when he did, he never expected her to have baggages. For example, you, Im Hayeon's best friend. Who suddenly, sparked an idea on his pretty little head. You're trouble-- and you're making Haechan commit Illicit Affairs.

“You're making me do bad things, very, bad things. But then again, I'm no stranger in being the bad guy."

GENRE: Angst, Humor, Fluff, Smut

WARNINGS: MINORS DNI, Explicit Sexual Content, Drugs & Alcohol, Infidelity (Cheating), Mentions of Self-harm, Haechan and reader are assholes, nonidol!haechanxfem!reader

WC: 20k (I know, shush)

DISCLAIMER: This story is purely fanfiction. Only the names of the Idols are used, and does not reflect on them in real life. There's no way in any shape of form that they are like this in person, because I MADE IT UP. I don't personally know them. DO NOT STEAL / TRANSLATE / MODIFY. This is my work and I don't appreciate people stealing it. Thank you.

enjoy reading!!

To be fair, Lee Haechan never claimed to be the good guy.

No, matter of fact, he takes pride in being insufferable. He makes it his mission to piss everyone off when he gets in the room. He gets off knowing that even though they hate him, they still can’t get enough of him.

“Lee Haechan!” A girl screams on top of her lungs, rage evident with the way her voice scratches. “Fuck, Renjun, please open this fucking door—” He practically broke his knuckles from knocking at the door too much, but he didn’t care. He needs to get in— like, right now.

For what it feels like two decades, Renjun finally opened the door and he quickly threw his entire body in the room.

“Close it, close it, close it!” He says, struggling to close the door and just as soon as Gaeun, or whatever her name is stepped in front of the door ready to barge in, Haechan manages to close it properly.

“Lee fucking Haechan, what did you do this time?!” Renjun asks, more so yelled whilst grabbing his slippers to throw towards the heaving boy.

“Shit, put that down you crazy bitch!” He flinches everytime Renjun moves his hand with the weapon.

“What the fuck is happening—” Jaemin asks, just leaving the bathroom to witness the war that’s going on in his living room.

“A crazy girl is currently trying to break our door, again, thanks to this fucking—” Renjun finally throws the slipper, but Haechan, being in this same spot way too often, dodges it easily. “—whore!” he winces as he missed

“Okay y’all better keep it down before Jeno wakes up and I know you know he’ll fucking turn you upside down, Haechan.” Jaemin reminds the both of them that the real monster is sleeping, and if Haechan wakes him up even a minute early from his supposed alarm, Jeno would have his arm broken in two seconds.

“Fine! Injunnie, please, let’s calm down. She’s not even there anymore!” Haechan points at the door, and when they glanced at the little gap in the bottom, he was proven to be right. No one’s at the door.

“You’re gonna tell me what happened this time,” Renjun asks, this time his voice controlled but still angry.

Haechan takes a deep breath, plopping himself at the couch before slowly smirking at both of his friends in front of him.

“It’s kinda funny—”

“If you don’t tell us right now I’ll make you eat your shirt,” Jaemin says through his smile.

Haechan rolls his eyes. “Remember Gaeun? From the last party?”

Both his friends took a minute before nodding.

“Yeah so.. we had sex last night.. in her house… and uhm–” he cleared his throat. “Also remember that Spanish professor I bagged last month? Yeah… uh, that was kinda her mom.”

Five full seconds have passed but no one dares to say anything. Renjun’s jaw is on the floor and Jaemin, well.. he smiles like a freak after a few seconds of silence.

“Can’t say I’m not impressed, I mean.. if any of us will do the dumbest shit out there it would be you, but dude… that’s another level of whoreness.” Jaemin says, crossing his arms on his chest and shrugging like it’s a normal conversation.

“I swear to god, if any of those girls even try to get in my way to find you, I'll burn your entire pc set.” Renjun stated with a serious face.

Haechan smirks as he looks at him, fond of Renjun’s annoyed expression, exactly what he liked to see. He could’ve sworn Renjun looks the best when mad.

See, Haechan thrives in the thrill of it all. Girls love bad boys, and he’s really good at being exactly that. The rush of having sex feeds him, the adrenaline fuels his entire system.

He’s hard wired to be a rule breaker. And it’s not like he tries so hard to get girls, that’s not the case at all. Far from that, actually. He doesn’t try at all, which adds above the plethora of things that allures girls to him. With a face and body like his, with the way he talks sweeter than honey, and his movement flows smoother than silk, he gets girls way too easy.

And of course, he pleases girls just as good as everybody expects him to. Matter of fact, way above expectations, the very reason that girls overlook his lack of compassion, or just empathy.

He’ll take you to heaven and let you fall to hell with a smile dancing on his lips.

He’ll treat you as if you’re the most beautiful girl in bed, but act like he doesn’t know you the next morning.

And it’s not like girls doesn’t know that he doesn’t look for a serious relationship, because words travel fast, and Haechan’s reputation is well known, but then again, he’s just that good, that he got girls risking getting their fragile hearts broken in hopes that Lee Haechan will take them serious.

Pfft, even that sentence makes him laugh.

Different girls every other day, Renjun still questions how Haechan avoids diseases on how often he fucks. Jaemin calls his dick an immune titanium rod, and Jeno’s just convinced that Haechan has the most magical yet disgusting dick ever.

Meanwhile, Haechan just simplified it. He likes to fuck, and it’s just so happen he’s not bad on the eyes either, and God had blessed him with a stamina like a superbowl player and a libido of an incubus straight from hell. Not to mention, he’s big and he knows how to use it. With all of that combined, girls just fawn over him so… it all just makes sense. He doesn’t need to be nice. Lee Haechan is infamous for being every girl’s guilty pleasure.

“Who the fuck is she?!”

Haechan lets out an exasperated sigh, covering his right ear slightly as he flinches at the high pitched scream. Brushing his palm across his face, he faced the girl. Whispering an apology with the other girl on his side, he looks up.

“Look, Miyeon–”

“It’s Haru! My name doesn’t even sound like Miyeon!”

Haechan rolled his eyes. Pulling Haru on the side, “Remember how I told you we’re over?”

Although it was fun, Haechan has to admit that this part is exhausting. It’s the sex he enjoys, not the dealing with them after. He knows that they know that he’s not for the long game. It was never that serious, and with the amount of girls he had slept with, he expected them to already know how it is.

“You– you can’t just say that over text!”

“Well, I just did.” He says casually, as if there’s no crying girl in front of him.

“You said– you said you loved me, asshole!” Haru cried more, in hopes to see a glimpse of empathy in the boy.

“Must’ve been high or something,”

And right then, he felt a sting on his right cheek, and gasps from the small crowd that’s gathered. Haru walked off a crying mess, while Haechan was still trying to recover from the ringing in his ear.

“You handled that very well.” Yangyang teases when Haechan comes back to their table.

“Shut your ass up, before I knock your big ass teeth out,” He hissed, and sat by his girl that’s now looking at him shocked and angry.

“Look, baby she’s just crazy, alright? I’m done with her and I’m all about you now,” He says, disgustingly sweet as he puts his hands over her shoulders. and it sounds so fucking insane, but it worked. The girl looked up at him with hope, nodding, believing in what spell Haechan said to her.

“As I was saying,– before you got your ass handed to you– there’s this girl transferring mid semester from Sacred Heart, and apparently she’s the hottest girl from there,” Shotaro, one of his friend, says.

Haechan rolls his eyes, “I don’t care about girls, dude. I have my girl here,” He squeezes the girls arms and smirks at her, making his friends gag in disbelief.

Sacred Heart? He knew about girls from Sacred Heart. Jaemin’s girl, the same one who rejected him was from Sacred Heart. So no, he doesn’t like girls from Sacred Heart.

Besides, there’s plenty of hot girls everywhere, it’s not like he exclusively likes to fuck University girls. It’s not like this girl is that extremely hot to actually pique his curiosity.

“You’re so sweet, babe.” The girl leans on him, with a sickening smirk on Haechan’s face, he brazenly winked at his friends.

“Of course,”

His friends can’t help but to just shake their heads in amusement, seeing Haechan’s magic work first hand still amazes them sometimes.

“Holy shit,”

Haechan didn’t look behind him, even with his friend’s over dramatic reaction to something happening. Their eyes wide, pointing at the entrance of the cafeteria.

“That’s her, dude,” Yangyang says in almost an awe.

That’s what made Haechan look behind him.

And when he does… oh boy.

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡⋆

“No, I swear, I’m in love!” Haechan clutches on the throw pillow, looking like a lovesick puppy.

Renjun was baffled. It was strange seeing him like this, Haechan never and he meant it when he says never, says that four letter word out loud, even more so pertaining to a girl.

“What’s her name again?” Jeno asks, brows furrowed.

“Im Hayeon,” Haechan says her name in such a delicate tone, as if said out loud, butterflies and rainbows will start pouring out.

“Sacred Heart, right?” Jeno reads off his phone, in hopes to find the girl’s picture. He admits she’s pretty, no, scratch that, she’s beautiful.

“Don’t you fucking dare, Lee Jeno. As a matter of fact, it goes out to the three of you– she’s off limits, alright, fuckers?”

Jeno scoffs, Renjun rolls his eyes and Jaemin– well he’s not here. “She’s all yours man. Heard everybody wants her ever since she transferred tho,”

Haechan almost laughs at that statement. “Trust, I will get her– because damn, I think I might go crazy if I don’t.”

Renjun still couldn’t believe all of this is coming from Lee Haechan himself. He’s still suspicious, but at the same time, he hopes that his friend really tries to be serious for once.

“I need everybody to know that I’m off the market. Officially!” Lee Haechan spoke with an intention, one only a love struck person would have.

“Damn, there goes his reputation– straight down the drain.” Says Jeno, watching Haechan daydream about a girl, holding a pillow close to his chest.

“I still don’t trust this,” Renjun says, watching his friend grow heart shaped eyes, clutching his chest on just the mere thought of that Hayeon girl.

And when he heard her talk, oh, game’s over.

Voice sweet as honey.

“I’m Lee Haechan,” He stood before Hayeon, confidently offering his hand to the girl, and damn, her eyes… Her eyes might just melt Haechan in a second.

“Hi.. I’m Ha–”

“Hayeon. Im Hayeon.” Funny, Haechan who’s infamous for forgetting girls names, remembers hers– and she didn’t even say a proper word to sentence yet.

“You’re really pretty.” He doesn’t recognize his own voice.

“You’re sweet,” and when Hayeon giggles and avoided his staring eyes, he knew.

Immediately, he knew it’s so over.

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡⋆

“You’ve got two beds here, sweets. When’s your roommate coming?” Haechan asks in curiosity.

“Soon, hopefully. She’s from Sacred Heart too, been friends since forever,”

Haechan nods, “Aren’t they not accepting late registrants?”

“Yeah they are, but I talked to her on the phone and she says she’ll be here soon. I really hope she settles in quick, I don’t want to have a random roommate or something.” She states. Haechan finds it so cute that her face is so expressive. Every word comes with emotion, and he can just awe.

“I could be your roommate,” He snickers in.

“Don’t be silly,” Hayeon giggled, pulling a smile out of him.

“Don’t want to interrupt– but I think I’m gonna pass out if I didn’t have caffeine in the next two minutes..” Yangyang says suddenly, bursting the bubble Haechan and Hayeon were in.

“I’ll treat you guys! Dream cafe?” Hayeon claps in excitement.

Haechan shakes his head off, “Funny you think you’d pay when you’re around me, sweets. Don’t be silly,”

This isn’t like him, at all. It’s been three days, and he already can feel the lack of sex in his system. He blocked all his girl’s numbers and he can’t find it in himself to look at any other girls right now, except for of course, Hayeon.

“How long are you gonna keep up this act, man?” Yangyang whispered as the two of them walked behind Hayeon, entering the cafe.

“Shut the fuck up, what act? This is me, dude,”

“Don’t make me laugh, in about two days your dick will fall off and find a girl to fuck on its own,” Yangyang laughed but he got cut off when Haechan hits him at the back of his head.

“If she fucking hears you I’ll actually decapitate you,” He whispers, “–and no, it wouldn’t. I’ll make sure at the end of the week we’d be together and we’ll have the most mind blowing se—”

“Haechan? What’s yours?” He didn’t even realize Hayeon is already at the counter when she calls him. He quickly turns to her at a full tilt and beamed,

“Just Iced Americano,” He says, walking up to her to join her at the counter.

Once they settled in a table, Haechan just sat quietly listening to her voice, telling stories and he’s sure he’s never heard something sweeter. He felt like a creep, admiring her every feature but he can’t just help it.

He’s sure her lips would taste like honey, and god, what he would do to taste–

“What did you say your friend’s name again?” Yangyang says in between his sips.

“Y/n, why?”

“Y/n… where do I know her… shit I feel like I knew her..” Yangyang thinks harder than he does in his Biology exam, wondering why your name leaves familiarity in his tongue..

“She’s… been around. Have you perhaps… slept with her?” Hayeon winced at the end of her sentence. Haechan just furrows his brow, confused as to why they’re talking about a random person.

“Oh, fuck, Choi Seungcheol’s Y/n?!” Yangyang almost screamed. Haechan blinks thrice, very baffled about Yangyang’s reaction.

Choi Seungcheol? He knows that man.

And before he could join the conversation, Hayeon’s phone rings, and of course, her phone is pink, with a big ribbon at the back. Hmm, would she like pink flowers? Maybe–

[Shit, Hayeon, I’m not fucking pregnant!]

Yangyang spits the coffee in his mouth, and Haechan chokes on his own drink upon hearing the loud voice over Hayeon’s phone. The girl just froze, looking up at them with wide eyes, and then closing in her shoulders in embarrassment.

“H-hey, hi! I’m with friends,” She answers meekly, putting the phone off of the speaker.

Yangyang covers his grin over his coffee, Haechan acting like he heard nothing.

What a weird conversation starter.

“You’re at the campus? What? Now?” Hayeon says in panic. Haechan was alert in his seat, in case Hayeon needed him to come along.

And as expected, she now started to gather her bag, “Sorry, guys but I have to go. My friend’s somewhere the campus and I need to find her,”

“D’you need me with you?” Haechan offers, but deep inside him, he just wanted to lay down somewhere. All that heavy lifting made him tired– the caffeine getting him even more exhausted.

“No, not really, Channie.” The sudden nickname elicits a hue of pink in his cheeks, getting him flustered. No one ever calls him that.

Yangyang on his side snorts, eliciting an elbow from Haechan making him hiss. “I’ll text you, okay, sweets?”

“Alright, bye, guys!” And off she goes, with her elegant strides, she walks away.

“Channie– what the fuck was that?” Yangyang burst out laughing, but Haechan was still.

“I think I’m hard.”

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡⋆

Three weeks.

“I’m starting to lose eyesight on my ears– and I’m fucking chafing bro!” He cries at Jeno, who’s just focused on his game, unbothered by the grown ass man crying behind him.

This has been officially, since he lost his virginity, the longest Haechan went without sex and he’s about to explode.

“But I can’t– not when it’s not her. Fuck, man, why can’t she just put out!”

Haechan pulls at his hair, frustrated and horny. He doesn’t know what to do– he wanted Hayeon, that’s for sure, but at the same time, old habits die hard, and there’s only so much his hands can do.

He knew Hayeon wants him too– that’s just obvious. However, she just doesn’t allow him to take a step further, and duh, he’ll never do anything that she doesn’t want, so it leaves him where he’s at. Delirious.

“Jeno!” He whines again, this time, tapping his friend on the shoulders.

Jeno moves his headset from his ear a bit, looking at him. “What?”

“You weren’t listening all this time?!”

Jeno, eyebrows lifted and clueless, shrugged before going back on his game.

“You fucking bitch,” Haechan murmured before walking out the room.

He was about to take a cold shower, as always, but then his phone pinged.

[11:01pm] hayeonnie: hi haechannie, wanna come over?

As if electrified, Haechan straightened up, quickly bolted out of their apartment.

There’s only one reason why she would invite him over, no? At this time, too? Haechan can feel legit excitement on his body as he drives to her apartment.

He stood outside her apartment door, inhaling deep to calm himself down, and adjusting his already hard dick struggling in his skinny jeans.

[11:12pm] haechan: im here @ ur door, sweets ;))

Taking a look at his phone camera and fixing his hair, he waits.

After a minute, she replied.

[11:13pm] hayeonnie: omg, already? im out buying our snacks but the door should be unlocked u can w8 in my room !!

He stood there a little confused, but he understood quickly, because he did sprint to get here. His sneakers didn’t even touch the ground. He’s that desperate.

He texted a simple ‘okay’ and attempted to turn the knobs, and thankfully, it was unlocked.

Her apartment was cold, but definitely lived in. The few sweaters lying around the couch and the succulents decorated on every corner made the room cozy, really different when Haechan helped her move in a couple of weeks ago.

What caught his eye was a couple extra home slippers by the door, one bedazzled pink and the other plain white, with a hotel branding on its side. Huh, maybe her roommates finally here.

Haechan sat carefully on the couch, checking his pockets for something really important.

Pulling the foil out of his front pocket, he made sure he brought not one, but three condoms.

“Okay,” He sighs and finally sinks into the sofa. He can relax now, he’s ready. He’s just waiting for his girl!

As soon as he felt comfortable, his entire body jolts when he heard one of the door open.

“The fuck?” His brows furrowed as he sees a tall man shirtless walking mindlessly to the kitchen counter.

When he got a good lighting on his face, his eyes widened.

It’s Choi Seungcheol.

It’s Choi motherfucking Seungcheol!

He never even saw this man in person, but the stories he heard about the infamous Sacred Heart Alumni was crazy. Apparently, he hosted the most wildest party that went down in history, and ever since then, he led the Carat House which rivaled NCU’s biggest frat. A quarterback that had the entire season in his palm— and because of that, NCU looked at him as an enemy.

So yeah, as an NCU home grown, he was taught that Choi Seungcheol is kind of the villain.

He didn’t realize how bad he’s staring at the man, until he looked at him in the eyes with a sour expression.

“What the fuck are you looking at?” Seungcheol with his deep voice asks. Haechan blinks,

“Nothing–”

“Are you here for y/n? I hate to break it to you but she’s not seeing anyone else anymore. So I suggest get your ass out before I fucking–”

“No! N-No, I don’t even know her. I’m here for Hayeon, uh, she’s out for a bit but she’s on her way back.” Haechan defends himself, and he hated the way he spoke in panic. He’s losing his cool, damn if anyone could see him pissing himself infront of another man, he'd be ruined.

Seungcheol says nothing but nods, before grabbing his shirt which somehow, was under the table.

“Just making things clear. You don’t want to mess with me, boy.” Seungcheol says and smirks, before leaving the apartment.

When Haechan finally loosens up, that’s when he realize he’s been holding his breath the entire conversation. When the door finally closed, he shakes his head.

“Fucking bitch. I’d break his pretty little lips open if he’d said one more word but I’m– Jesus fucking christ!”

“He’s out?”

“Jesus!”

A girl peeped through the other bedroom door,as he holds his chest in surprise. What the hell is happening?!

“Oh, sorry. My bad,” The girl says, gritting her teeth.

Haechan still holding his chest, looked up at the girl. His knees almost turned jelly because holy shit, this girl is so fucking gorgeous.

And if he could only speak, the first word that would fall of his lips was–

“Damn,”

“What?”

Oh, fuck, did he say it out loud?

“Nothing– shit, yeah he’s.. uh, out.” Haechan straighten up his posture, putting his hands on his pockets and clearing his throat to gain composure back.

“Oh thank god, I don’t know how long I pretended to be asleep for his ass to get a hint,” You sigh, finally letting your entire body out the room and walk past him like he’s not standing there.

Even your voice sounded hot. It was deeper than Hayeon’s, with a slight scratch at your words as if you’d just got done singing at the karaoke for hours. It sounded so fucking hot in his ears.

You went to the kitchen, grabbed you a coke in a can and opened it with your teeth. The mere sounds of your actions was the only thing keeping the room less awkward.

“Lee Haechan, was it?”

“Yeah.. how’d you know?”

“Hayeon tells me everything. Also the fact that you’re pretty famous in this school,” You chuckle at your own words, and he can’t help but feel a little intimidated but definitely… something else.

Sure, one of the reason is because you look like you’re not wearing pants under your oversized shirt, but it’s more in how you handle yourself. You look like you don’t care about anything.

“Y-yeah but not anymore tho.. I’m straightening up.. you know, Hayeon likes good guys so,” He doesn’t even know why he’s panicking to explain.

“Sure she does. By the way, you didn’t see Seungcheol here, alright? Nothing gets out of this apartment,” You walked towards the couch where Haechan stood, and his body tensed.

He gets a whiff of a powdery scent, like some kind of delicate perfume you had on and usually he prefers fruity ones but he’s starting to like this one more.

“You know that the entirety of NCU hates him, right?” He acts nonchalant.

“I understand your lack of tolerance with him, yes. That’s exactly why,” You pause when you get near enough, “–you, Lee Haechan, won’t say anything about it. Besides, we broke up so I don’t think that’s gonna be a problem.”

There’s something in the way you say his name, like it meant different. It felt strange, he’s used to hearing his name said with anger, adoration or pleasure, but with your voice, it just sounded… weird.

Before he could ponder about it further, the door opened, revealing the girl he had went here for. Right, Hayeon.

“Haechannie! I see you met y/n.” Hayeon were quick to step in between him and you.

There’s an awkward tinge in her face, as she smiles way too big, stretching her lips to appear enthusiastic. Haechan didn’t notice, but he definitely felt like him and Hayeon should just go inside her room.

“You’re right, Hayeon, he is a cutie.” You say, with the most obvious sarcasm.

“Right. Uh, we’ll go,” Hayeon gripped Haechan’s wrist, pulling him with her inside his room and before she could even close the door, his eyes found yours, and maybe he was hallucinating, but he definitely saw you look at him too.

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡⋆

You lied.

You don’t think Haechan is cute.

You think he’s fucking hot.

His golden skin and his perfect lips made you almost quiver in fear, that you might just have the hots for your best friend’s man. Which even for a woman like you, is a low blow. You don’t want to be the girl who fucks a man whose spoken for.

So you tossed it to you being horny. Maybe Seungcheol didn’t do enough, maybe if you’d seen a different person standing on your living room, you’d feel bothered too. It’s not Haechan– no, it can’t be him.

Because if it is him, then you’ve got a real big problem. Especially the next day, when Hayeon told you the news.

“I agreed to be his girl, and we did it.”

Normally, you’d congratulate her because she doesn’t have that many ex boyfriends and she’s the type to take a relationship seriously. After a few years of being single– she finally has a man, again.

But damn, you’ll be lying if that didn’t annoy you one bit. How’d Hayeon get to him first? Ugh.

[NCU’s like… really big. Just avoid him a little bit and it’d be fine.] Your friend, who is probably the person you trust the most, talks across the phone.

“Jurin, he’s literally my roommate’s boyfriend. I can’t even get away from him in my own fucking apartment.” You say, walking around the campus trying to find the auditorium, for one of your lectures. Jurin made a point, this campus is enormous compared to SHU.

[I don’t know what to tell ‘ya, he is fine, and it’s your fault for missing the first day and he happened to see Hayeon first.]

Finally, you seem to see the entrance to the auditorium, but you’re not sure. You try to look at your schedule, “To be fair, it’s just my first week here. Maybe there’s someone else I could obsess over–”

“That’s auditorium hall three, Prof Watson’s lecture?”

You turn to see a boy, with baggy jeans, a baggy shirt, a snapback worn backwards with a headphone barely hanging on it, a laptop on one hand, and a skateboard on the other. You wanted to scoff, this is almost a stereotypical college dude, except he actually rocks it. You’re conflicted, if you find this hot or not.

“Oh, yeah, uh– thanks?”

“Osaki Shotaro, by the way.” He offered to shake your hand, but forgets that he’s occupied with both. That’s when you actually let out a chuckle.

[Hello?? Just find somebody to fuck to get your mind off the dude,] You forget that Jurin’s still on the phone.

“Yeah, I’m gonna call you back.” You absentmindedly say before hanging up the phone.

“Y/n.” You smile at him, and with his innocent eyes, he smiled back.

୨♡୧

“That was.. Wow.” Shotaro sighed in satisfaction, combing his hand across his hair.

You smirked at him, finding it adorable how he’s reacting to what just happened about three minutes ago.

Jurin was right, fucking somebody else was distracting enough to get your mind off of Haechan, but it felt like putting a band aid on a broken glass. You knew damn well you’d be back gushing about Haechan once you see him again.

“You’re great too, you know,” You say, fixing your skirt.

“Yeah sure but you… damn.” You chuckled at him.

Shotaro is hot, and shit, did he knew how to use his body. And for the first time, you had sex with a man who moans in Japanese. That was hot as fuck.

“Y’know rumors about the hottest chick from Sacred Heart went around before you transferred, and I never expected you’d even notice me in the first place,”

You furrowed your eyebrows. “Oh, that’s probably Hayeon. Not me,”

You let out a laugh. Hayeon has always been crowned the most gorgeous student in SHU, and you were always out of the spotlight. Lots of people thought that you’re in her shadow, but to be honest, you like being in the dark.

You get away from a lot of things being unnoticed.

“You’re Seungcheol’s girl, right?”

You wince after hearing your ex’s name, but you were also used to this. Seungcheol and you had a past, a very bad one at that, and people often asks you about it. He was basically a celebrity in your previous school.

“Was.” You put an emphasis on the word.

“Then you’re the girl they were talking about. And to be frank, I think you’re hotter.” Shotaro claims with his chest out.

“You’re saying that because we just fucked,”

“I’m just being honest, but yeah, that too.”

Shotaro chilled in the apartment a couple more hours when you decided to order food. Of course, he insisted that he paid, and who are you to resist free food.

“The audacity to say Game of Thrones is way too boring, and here you are gushing over Harry Potter?!” Shotaro yelled playfully.

“Hey, I like what I like. Game of Thrones puts me to sleep faster than white noise,” You slurp on your Ramen, entertained over Shotaro losing his shit.

You two continued to bicker until you heard the sound of the pin to the door being opened.

The both of you looked at who’s coming, and you mentally curse seeing Haechan’s pretty face.

You roll your eyes, breathing in his overwhelming cologne that immediately surrounds the place. His leather jacket that he somehow make it work, and his tight skinny jeans that made him look taller. Fuck, this was never your type. What is wrong with you?

“Dude!” Shotaro jumps excitedly, seeing Haechan. That’s when Hayeon followed in, smiling at Shotaro but the confusion in her eyes stayed.

“What are you doing here?” Haechan says, eyes switching from Shotaro and you.

“I invited him here,” You say, trying your best to avoid his lingering stare. You felt like a highschool girl avoiding her crush. This sucks.

“You two know each other?” Hayeon asks.

“Yeah, we’re friends.” Shotaro says proudly. Dapping up Haechan as soon as he got near him. Haechan seemed suspicious, still glinting his eyes at his friend.

“You and her?” Haechan whispered ever so slightly, in hopes to not be heard by you or Hayeon.

“Yeah, dude.” Shotaro knowingly nods in excitement, as if winning a game, dragging the word ‘Yeah’ to emphasize his exhilaration.

Haechan nods, silently commending his friend for bagging you. He never knew Shotaro had it in him, to be honest.

“Really, y/n, Haechan’s friend?” Meanwhile, Hayeon pulled you aside, scolding you as soon as you were out of earshot by the two boys.

“I didn’t know he was his friend?”

“Look, I believe you, but I want this thing with Haechan to work. And I can’t have you sleeping around with his friends and risking my relationship with my boyfriend–”

“How would that risk anything? I’m literally minding my own business.” This was one thing you hated about Hayeon. She gets too controlling, everything should be in her way. That’s how she wants it.

“I don’t know, maybe your hobby of sleeping around with his close friends then ghosting them to go back to Seungcheol– Gee, I don’t know if that’d upset Haechan and lookie here–” She points at herself animatedly, “Unfortunately, I’m friends with you so who will eventually take the blame?!”

Hayeon seemed to spit harshly with her words, and it left did kind of stung. Hayeon is nice, kind and caring, but there are times where she sure knows how to make people feel bad. Lucky for you, you’re one of the people who suffers from this side of her.

“Unfortunately– huh. Okay.” You smile bitterly at her, before grabbing your wrist back from her grip.

“Don’t worry, Hayeonnie. I’d step away from his friends, I wouldn't want to jeopardize your one week relationship with him. And I mean this from the bottom of my heart, I hope you shove Haechan so far up your ass, in that case, you’d be together forever, you psycho.”

You, on the other hand, never claimed to be nice.

As you walk away, you stare extra hard at her, and that’s when you see the familiar look in her eyes.

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡⋆

The difference of being in a new school compared to your old one, is that here, you had to start from scratch.

Yes, people here in NCU might’ve heard something about new students from SHU, given the famous rivalry between two schools and students who love getting dirt from each other, but you still need to build your persona from level zero.

“Word around here is that you’re apparently the hottest chick from Sacred Heart.” Juyeon, your seatmate in one of your classes.

“Apparently? Are you not sure?” You huffed.

He tilts his head to the side, “Don’t get me wrong, you are hot. But I’ve always thought you’d immediately jump on either Haechan or Jaemin once you moved here,”

You let out a chuckle. This man has no idea. You for sure would’ve jumped on Haechan. Your timing just fucked you over.

“Well, Haechan’s with my friend now so he’s out of the picture. Jaemin’s sexy, but not my type.”

“Meh, I’d give Haechan a month before he gets bored.” Juyeon shrugged.

You look back at him with intrigue, “Is he that much of a fuckboy?”

“He’s the worst out of the four of them. Haechan is infamous for fucking girls left and right. Jaemin is a close second, but Haechan? That man is a monster.”

You don’t know whats wrong with you, but your entire body suddenly turns warm over hearing Haechan’s reputation. You shift in your seat, contemplating a lot of things. Nasty things.

“Yeah? That bad, huh.” You clear your throat.

“Yep. But hey, heard he blocked all his girls for Hayeon. Made her an official girlfriend too. That got to count for something. Maybe he’s a changed man.”

Changed man your ass. “Nobody really changes, Juyeon. They just mask their true color. That isn’t changing, that’s just faking.”

The attention you received was nice at first, but as it went on, it felt irritating. Everybody just wants to talk to you and get to know you, despite the fact that you’ve made it clear that you’d rather keep to yourself.

You don’t know how Hayeon, or even Haechan does it.

They instantly became the power couple after a few more weeks of dating– and surprisingly, it seemed to be going on smoothly. They were both popular, Hayeon climbing up the status quo extra quick now that she has Haechan.

You? Oh, you tried to lie low, go back to what you had before, and at least try to stop ogling your friend’s boyfriend. It was just annoying before, but now it kind of starting to affect you.

Every time he’s in the apartment, it’s like he made it his mission to fuck Hayeon so hard that her moans sounded concerning, and in about an hour or two, you’ll see them cuddling in the couch watching a movie you’re sure they’ve seen before. Like, hell, who haven’t seen the Notebook?

“We’re ordering in, you want some?” Hayeon kindly asks, one time when you catch them on the kitchen counter.

You just woke up from your nap, and as soon as you see them making out in the kitchen, you almost want to knock yourself out.

“Nope. I’m actually craving for…” You take a look at your limited choice of cereal, “Fruit loops.”

“Hmmkay, I’ll head down stairs to get some packages, I swear they never bring my packages up here. Babe, please go with me?” The sickening baby voice she uses left you cringing, and all you can do is to fill your mouth up with a spoon full of cereal. This’ll keep you from saying shit you’d regret.

“My legs are about to give up, babe, we went for an hour of dog–”

You almost spit out your cereal, freezing over what Haechan just almost said. Are they fucking kidding you?

“–Cardio.” Haechan’s attempt at covering his sentence went unuseful, because you’re not dumb. You knew what he meant.

“Heh, okay, babe. Can you wait in my room?”

You see him furrow his brows at his girlfriend, “Can’t I wait here?”

Hayeon didn’t say anything, but her eyes said a lot more. She looks at you as if she’s seeing a problem with your presence around her boyfriend, without her in the room. She looks back at him, and sighed. “I’ll be right back,”

Once she closed the door, that’s when you chuckled. Same old Hayeon.

“That’s weird,” Haechan starts.

“That’s just how she is. Don’t worry,” You say casually, as if what she pertained to isn’t about you. Because it’s always about you.

“What do you mean?”

“She doesn’t trust me around men, she thinks I’ll jump every dick I came across to– specially you, her boyfriend,” The exaggerated tone you added to the term boyfriend was prominent. Saying it just annoyed you.

“Oh.. that’s.. that’s crazy. How’s you and Shotaro?” You didn’t want to read into his demeanor, and how fast he changes the topic, so you just grin.

“Meh, one time thing. Don’t worry tho, he’s a sport. Don’t want to break any friend dynamics you have with your circle,”

“Why would you break the dynamics?”

“Your friend Yangyang hit me up last night– and I almost gave in, but I think Hayeon is right, I don’t want to mess with your friends.” You say absent mindedly.

“I mean, they’re grown ass adults, it’s up to them if they let some girl break the friendship.” He casually blurts out, not even thinking of what he just said.

You catch a tiny bit of offense to it, “Some girl?”

He immediately raises his eyebrows in shock of his own word, blinking rapidly. “No! No, what I mean is it’s okay to do whatever you like! They have to deal with their own shit and it’s on them if they let it affect anything,”

You nod. Why does he seem nervous? This wasn’t what you expected from him at all. People says he’s over confident and cocky, but why is he stuttering in front of you now?

“Besides, your school is a lot bigger than Sacred Heart, I’m sure there's plenty of men that I can have. It’s not that hard to avoid your friend group,”

“Yeah. Yeah, definitely.” He clears his throat, for what seemed to be the nth time.

“I mean, I could, technically, go for your friend– Jaemin, was it?” You don’t know why, but you lied. Mainly to get a reaction out of him, indulging into your little theory.

“What? No. Not him, he’s obsessed with the art kid from SHU. Jeonghan’s friend?” His explanation seems valid. You bit your lip. You were expecting a lot more.

“Jeonghan’s ex? The girl who slept with Sir Nakamoto?” You asks, intrigued at the sudden mention of the girl you once knew from your previous school.

“Yeah! That one!”

You smirk in amusement, “Huh. Small world.”

“Yeah so definitely not Jaemin. Or Jeno, Or Renjun. Nope. They already have their own girl.” He says in finality, shaking his head.

You chuckle at his expression. He’s so damn cute. You just want to… fuck.

“Alright, chill. I’ll step back from your friends. God, you sound just like Hayeon.”

He flinched over the mention of his own girlfriends name. He looked like he forgot about her for a second there, but you don’t let yourself believe that. You’re just feeding into your delusions.

You drink the milk that’s left in your bowl, and when you bring it back down to the counter, you see Haechan’s gaze lowering in your face, stopping right where your lips are.

“You got some, uh–”

You point at your lips, “Oh,” you lick the milk mustache above your upper lip, all while Haechan watches.

Shit, this looks like an introduction to some porn. You didn’t even mean to do it, you swear!

He clears his throat again, “B-but… would you tho?”

You raise your brow at his sudden question.

“Would I.. what?”

“J-jump.. on my… d-dick?”

Slowly, the smirk you had before shows again.

“Oh, Haechan, that’s not a nice question to ask your girlfriend’s friend, now is it?”

“I-I was just–”

“Finally! I ran up here as fast as I could, what are you two talking about?” Hayeon’s catching her breath, quickly stepping between you and Haechan, effortlessly breaking the thick tension between you two.

You, on the other hand, managed to break your eyes away from the boy and walked to the sink to wash your bowl.

“Fruit loops,” you lie.

Haechan was still standing there, trying to amuse his girlfriend, as if he didn’t just ask you if you would jump on his dick a minute ago.

“Yeah, fruit loops.” He whispers as he takes a deep breath.

Things just got way more interesting.

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡⋆

Haechan doesn’t know what it is. Maybe he’s just really tired, maybe the exams are slowly getting to him.

He laughs. He doesn’t give a fuck about the exams.

“I don’t like your friend, Renjun. His smile seems so fake when he smiles at me,” Hayeon says through her teeth.

“Nah, that’s how he is on everybody. He doesn’t even smile at me,” Hayeon snuggled more onto his side as they continued watching the Kissing Booth.

“I guess you know him better, but still, can you tell him to be nice?”

Haechan just nods at her. Renjun is nice, only to people who’s nice to him. However, in Hayeon’s case, Renjun is still doubting his relationship with her. Something about being way too quick, or way too forced.

And even tho Haechan doesn’t show it that much, he does value Renjun’s judgement among all of his friends. He trusts him to see through all his actions, and think of what’s best for him.

But, of course, he still insist that his relationship with Hayeon will work. Because it needs to work. He’s not gonna embarrass himself after chasing this woman for so long— only for him to break up in a month.

“Let’s go to bed?” Finally, the awful movie ended, and a sense of relief washes over him. He hated the Kissing Booth.

“I’ll do the thing that you like..” Hayeon whispered lowly in his ears, making him smirk. She knows exactly how to get his attention.

However, before they could even get walk to Hayeon’s room, the front door swung wide open, revealing a huffing figure stomping inside.

You’re angry—no, you’re actually fuming. And it all made sense when he saw whoever followed you into the apartment.

“Fuck you!” You yelled as you threw your bag on the floor.

Seungcheol brushed his hands through his hair as he strides big steps towards you. Haechan frowned at how aggressive Seungcheol was approaching you and he was about to interfere, when Hayeon tightened her grip at his wrist.

“Don’t– they do this all the time. Let’s just go in,” She says quietly.

“Get out of my fucking apartment, Choi Seungcheol.” You say, voice cut deeply, eyes closed as if trying to gather patience.

“What were you doing with that Soohyun, huh? Throwing ass like I’m not fucking in the same room?!” Seungcheol shouted, pointing at you as if you were nothing. Haechan flinched everytime he sees Seungcheol almost touch you.

“We’re over, weeks ago, you delusional fuck! You’re fucking stalking me— it’s like you have a fucking tracking device, weirdo!”

“If you think we’re over, think again, bitch. I made you. I own you. You can do whatever you want, switch schools, create a whole new personality, but the truth is, you’re still the same fucking slut for me.”

“That’s–” Haechan was supposed to get in between you and Seungcheol, but a forceful tug on his wrist made him stumble back to Hayeon’s room.

”Leave it, Haechan. It’s not our business!” Hayeon then slammed the door shut.

“That’s your friend, babe! He’s going to hurt her!”

“It’s their problem, Haechan! They’re always like this! That’s how they are! An hour from now, they’re gonna be fucking like rabbits next door, trust me.”

He doesn’t know what to feel. Did they see the same thing? Did she not see how aggressive that guy is towards you? How can Hayeon let her friend get treated that way?

Haechan was straight up dumbfounded.

Maybe it’s a Sacred Heart thing. He’s heard some of the crazies went there. Maybe you’re one of them.

But every minute that had passed, he felt like his ears was hyper alert. His eyes wandered around the thin wall separating Hayeon’s room to where you are.

Another muffled scream, followed by a thud that sounded like something being thrown across the room. It felt like a telenovela, a drama that he used to watch.

“They’ve been like that forever. Y/n always leaves, but Seungcheol always chases. It’s a cycle, and you should be used to it, because no matter how bad they get, they’ll still end up together.” Hayeon further explained.

But he still doesn’t get it. He only saw a fracture of your relationship with that man and he could already tell it’s not a very healthy relationship, a dangerous one at that, and Hayeon, who’s apparently supposed to be your friend, witnessing this for a long time— thinks this is okay?

“Don’t worry, babe, okay? It’s fine.” Hayeon’s attempt at calming him down did little to nothing. Not when the silence that followed sounded terrifying.

Turns out, Hayeon was right.

The angry curses, the yelling, and the aggression earlier was completely gone— replaced by the same words, just different way of expressing them.

Haechan hears a very different types of curses next door now. The rhythmic banging on the wall adds to it all, and all he can think of are you graphic moans filling up his brain.

Haechan was rightfully confused. However, confusion isn’t the only one swimming in his system, there was something else. Hearing you get fucked less than five feet away from him left an unnamed sensation he was scared to confront.

So, he did was he does best. He distracted himself by focusing on the girl he’s with, the girl who he should only think about.

Yet, despite his eagerness to erase whatever thought he had, Haechan was never a strong willed person. He admits that he’s mentally weak, that he’s a slave to his own body.

So when his brain was focused on Hayeon, his body reacted differently.

Because every time he hears you moan, his hips involuntarily thrust– and then everything else just happened without him thinking about anything, just desperately seeking release. He listened to every cry you made, every breath you take.

“Ah,” He moans deeply, eyes closed shut as he tried to scrape the bottom of the barrel and listen intently to your whimpering next door.

“Harder,” Your faint voice kept him going.

Not Hayeon’s, no one else but yours.

“Hm-hmm,” He bit his lip as he followed your order, thrusting with extra vigor. He kept his words vague, not letting Hayeon figure out what the fuck is in his head.

“Cum,” You muttered more incoherent words but he takes what he could understand. And as if in command, he cums. Hard.

The moment he opens his eyes,

“God, what’s with you tonight!” Hayeon giggles in satisfaction, catching her breath. Once he was back in his senses, a huge wave of guilt washed over him.

Did he… just fucked his girlfriend to the thought of you?

He shakes his head violently, as if the idea of him doing it could fall out of his memories.

Haechan was a pervert. He never denied it. But this… this just made him feel dirty. He’d admit, he isn’t the nicest, but come on, he’s a decent human being–sometimes.

“Where are you going?” Hayeon asks when she looks at him.

He grabbed his jacket, “Renjun called.” He didn’t.

“Uh, okay?”

And for the first time, Haechan didn’t bother to look at her eyes before he walked out her room.

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡⋆

Haechan had already heard of every insult he can imagine, and he never finds it in himself to care. Heck, sometimes, he takes pride for being called a manwhore. In his mind, that’s just another way of saying he gets so much pussy, that people felt the need to give him the title.

But this time, it’s different. He didn’t hear it, he felt it.

This was the first time he felt a tiny bit of shame. And it doesn’t feel good, like, at all.

He struggles to even admit that what people thought of him was true. That he cannot handle being in a serious relationship longer than a couple months.

He could’ve sworn that what he felt with Hayeon was true, it was intense, it was a different feeling than the girls he had before. But then you came along, and ruined everything.

Any chance of Haechan finally finding his true love crumbled upon his feet, all because of you.

That’s it, you’re a curse. A curse he needs to avoid at all costs.

“Woah, you look like shit.” Renjun sat beside him, carrying a shit-eating grin only a true friend could show.

“Shut up, I’m in a predicament.” He brushed Renjun off.

“Predicament? Big word for elmo,”

“Aish–” He hits Renjun, softly, of course, and Renjun just laughed. Seeing Haechan visibly distressed somehow intrigued him, because Haechan never worries about anything, at all.

“Is it Hayeon?” He asks casually.

Haechan sat straight, coughing– “Nope! Not at all– me and my girlfriend are very happy together.” Haechan frantically shakes his head, smiling as if a gun is pointed to his head.

“O-kay? Calm down, freak.” Renjun proceeds to take out his laptop.

Haechan rolls his eyes, but as soon as he focuses on the door of the lecture hall, his breathing hitches.

You entered, hiding under a black hoodie, head hanging low. You clutch your bag as if someone’s out to take it from you. Your steps are calculated, but rushed at the same time.

Odd, Haechan muttered deep in his breath.

However, even after being intrigued by your peculiar demeanor, Haechan didn’t approach you. Not that you care tho— this is only one of two classes he shares with you. It’d be easy to avoid you, right?

Wrong. In some shit luck, for the semester’s first project by pair, his name just had to be called after yours.

Biting his lip as he strides to reach you, he took a deep breath before actually approaching you. You had this dark aura, ever since the start of the lecture. Haechan couldn’t name it.

“W-we’re partners,” There’s the fucking stuttering again. He swears this is all your fault.

About three seconds passed before you finally acknowledge him, like you’ve been pulled out of a trance. You snap at Haechan, but the wary eyes turned soft as soon as your eyes connects with him.

“Yeah. R-right, uh– let’s just do it in the apartment, so we’d both be comfortable since you basically live with us too.” The pathetic attempt of smirking did little to nothing, to cover the puffy eyes you desperately hid.

But then again, Haechan’s not in the place to ask you whats wrong. He doesn’t want to be concerned, nor does he want to care. It’s not like you’re someone to him. Psh, you’re just his girlfriend’s best friend.

Jesus fucking christ.

“K.” He slings his bag on his shoulders, and spins around to walk away.

What you didn’t see is how tight he grips the strap of his bag until his knuckles turned white, and his breathing shakes as soon as he left.

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡⋆

This won’t do.

Ever since he got to your apartment, all you said to him was ‘Hi,’ and you never talked to him again if it’s not about the project. Worst, you keep your words as minimum as possible, and your hand trembles every time you type in your laptop.

There’s no way you’re okay. You’re avoiding his stares, you’re refusing to hold a conversation even for a minute.

Haechan should be glad, you make it easier for him to avoid you, but instead of relief, Haechan is faced with worry.

You’re not acting like you. Your usual confident and carelessness was replaced by whatever this is.

He curses in his head, before slamming his laptop close.

“Let’s take a break,” He says.

You shake your head, “We’re almost done,”

“I know, so we should take a break,”

“Haechan—“

“You look like you’re gonna shatter any second now, y/n. So let’s take a fucking break.” Haechan’s stern voice was a rare occurrence, but he needed to be assertive.

You gulped and finally take off your hands off the keyboard.

“Are you okay?” Haechan carefully asked, as to not make you uncomfortable.

“I’m fine.”

“You don’t look fine,”

This time, your eyes glare at him. Haechan blinks, trying to hold a stare but he couldn’t. Your bloodshot eyes was trying to suck him in.

“Seungcheol… he’s not a bad guy.” You started off and immediately, Haechan didn’t like where you were going.

“Is he why you.. look like that?”

“I look like a what?”

“Like you’re on the verge of breaking down,”

“Haechan-ah… tell me. Are you happy?” In an innocent mind, this question seems simple. In Haechan’s mind, this felt loaded.

“S-sure..”

Is he really? Pff, no. He accepted the fact that he might not really be inlove with his girlfriend and dove into a committed relationship head first way too fast and now he’s on a position that might just ruin his new found reputation of being a good guy. So, yeah, no.

“I’m glad. Cuz I’m really not.. Seungcheol was my safe choice, but when he gets like this.. it’s not fun. So I decided to leave him, for good. But I realized that no one’s on my team now that he’s gone.” You sounded so off. Like you weren’t yourself. Haechan couldn’t bear it, so he looked away.

“I’m on your team,” He softly says, hopefully sounding less cringy.

“Really? Haechan-ah?” Okay, he really doesn’t like it when you call him Haechan. It sounds so.. unfamiliar.

“Yep. Me, Hayeon, and all your friends are here for you.” He didn’t like saying his girlfriend’s name whilst talking to you, but he knew he had to draw some kind of line. Just in case you get the wrong idea, or worse, he gets the wrong idea.

You let out an awkward laugh. He doesn’t understand which part of this you find funny at all.

“Right. Hayeonnie.” This time, it sounded like you hated her name. Like it didn’t need to be in the conversation.

“So.. promise me you’ll never go back to Seungcheol again, okay? He’s a bad guy,” He exaggerated a scolding tone just to lighten up the mood but it didn’t do much.

You just nodded– looking like you just wanted to end the conversation.

Thankfully, a notification from his phone breaks the dead silence. He used it as an excuse to escape.

[7:03pm] hayeon: I’m at my sisters, babe. Aren’t u going to Yang’s party tonight?

He sighs. Right, his loving girlfriend.

He can’t just leave you all alone, can he? Not when you’re in this state, not when you’re not okay.

This isn’t even about his problem with you anymore. Any decent human being wouldn’t leave a poor girl all alone when she clearly needs someone.

“Come with us to Yangyang’s party. Take your mind off of things.”

“I–”

“It’s either you go or I’ll drag you with us.”

There was another pause, silence filled with tension you could cut through with a knife. You didn’t say anything but sighed, basically confirming to Haechan that you’ll go.

You guess you needed a little distraction.

“I’ll be there.” You softly whisper. You closed your laptop, and stood up from the coffee table straight to your room.

As soon as the door clicks, Haechan catches his breath. He doesn’t realize he’s been holding it in everytime you look at him. Thank God you didn’t notice it.

This will do him good. It’ll clear his mind, and in no time, he’ll be back in his girlfriend’s arms. You’ll be busy with other people and you’ll be out of his sight. Yeah.

[8:56pm] hayeon: Can’t go to Yang’s tonight babe :( My sister needs me to help with something. See you tomorrow?

He was about to reply, when another message popped up in his phone.

[8:57pm] yangyang: u better come to my party !! bring ur gf or wtv.. make sure she brings y/n too haha

[8:57pm] haechan: im going, but hayeon cant go. y/n will be there.

[8:58pm] yangyang: fuck yeah dude i cant w8 to see her!!!

Why is Yangyang so obsessed with you? Didn’t you say you turned him down already? Well, knowing Yangyang, he does get a bit infatuated with someone that does so much as give him the time of day, but come on. You already said no to him, right?

Haechan reminds himself to reply to Hayeon, but his mind was somewhere else.

So he never did.

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡⋆

“It’s been so long seeing you without your girl, dude!” Yangyang excitedly put his arms around Haechan, almost choking the guy. In return, Haechan elbowed him slightly, just to get the guy off of him.

“You’re choking me, asshole.”

“Huh, could’ve sworn you’re a little bit into that.” Yangyang joked, earning a hefty hit from Haechan.

He kinda get Yangyang tho. It has been a while since he attended some party without Hayeon by his side, and honestly, it kinda brought back a vibe in him. Only this time, he needs to be careful.

The hushed whispers of girls upon seeing him alone was noticeable, some even saying that maybe Hayeon’s out of the picture. He needed to clear things up before everybody misunderstood.

“My girlfriend, Hayeon is at her family house. She’ll be with me tomorrow.” He says very loudly, for everybody to hear.

He doesn’t know why he felt the need to prove others wrong, but one things for sure. He’s not going to mold himself to the expectations of him not being able to keep one girl for a long time.

“Alright, man, no need to yell.” Shotaro popped in his right.

“Where have you been?” Yangyang asked.

“Y/n’s over at the hallway with Soohyun. I think she’s wasted, dude.”

Haechan’s ears perked with the mention of your name. You’re here earlier than him? And you’re already wasted?

So what? Not my responsibility. Haechan says to himself. He grabs one of the shots on the counter and downed it straight. Haeving, he goes and takes another.

“Slow down, stupid!” Jeno appears beside him, chuckling a bit.

He shakes his head. No, no, no, no, no.

“Are you okay?” Renjun asks, this time more seriously. He had never seen Haechan being in distress for long periods of time, and never this conflicted. He knew Haechan like the back of his hand.

“I’ll get over it.” Voice rasp, Haechan walks away from his friends.

He rings his girlfriend one time, only to be answered by a robotic voice telling him she’s busy. He tried it again, but the result was the same.

Every shot he encountered, he drank. He can’t really handle anything without being sober, let alone think about you while being sane. He’ll go crazy.

But then the when the alcohol hits, his thoughts got more even insane. Batshit. He can fucking hear your voice now.

Your screams, when you were fighting with Seungcheol.

Your moans, when he was pounding you to oblivion.

Your tears, when you yelled profanities.

And your fucking words that made Haechan cum that night. The same fucking words that he knew wasn’t meant for him, but he took it as if you whispered in his ear.

“Fuck!” He screams out of frustration. He felt disgusted with his own thoughts.

“Haechan?”

Man these walls must be talking ‘cuz he swear he just heard yo–

He turned around to see you, and he can’t pin what his exact feeling the moment your eyes met. He was relieved for a split second, then he suddenly felt tense because it was like he manifested you to appear in front of him.

“Y/n–”

“Look who decides to show up without his pet.” Another voice popped from behind you, however, he can’t think of anyone else but your flushed face.

“Didn’t you miss me, Haechannie? Come on, I know your girl doesn’t compare..” It was a drunk Gaeun, stumbling past you, managing to nudge your shoulders.

Her hands finds Haechan’s shoulders, putting her entire weight pulling him down to her level.

He was in panic mode. You were just standing there, visibly disturbed, rightfully so, as Haechan tried to push Gaeun away as respectfully as he can.

“Gaeun, pleas–”

“Are you fucking insane?” Your voice thundered as your hand pulled the drunk girl away from him. His eyes widened, feet frozen as he sees you drag the girl away from him.

“Get your hands off me! Haechan!” Gaeun screamed for him, but he can’t really do anything, he’s still, fascinated at the scene in front of him. Are you.. jealous?

But when he notice the moment escalates and you’re now dragging Gaeun by her hair, he jumped into action and gently tried to pull your wrist away. “Let go,”

Your sharp eyes turned to him, still in attack mode, but you took one deep breath and let go of her hair. A sobbing mess, Gaeun runs away from you.

“You’re really gonna let her be all over you like that? What if I wasn’t here?!”

“Y/n–”

“You’re crazy if you think I’m gonna let you cheat on Hayeon with a bitch like her–”

“Then who else?”

His hands aren’t on the steering wheel anymore, and any control he had– he threw it all away.

“W-what?”

The game was over. Haechan forfeits, this isn’t something he can deny any longer.

Haechan, still holding your wrist, pulled you closer to his body.

“Who would you rather me cheat on her with?”

“Hae–”

“Nope. Wrong name. Come on, say it.” He completely turned off the switch. He basically slashed the throat of the angel that gives him the conscience he’s been holding on so tight, and grabbed the devil’s hands.

This was a risky game he was playing, you could totally call him out, and tell Hayeon right away, but the other side of the spectrum is way too good to even think of the risk. You could come to him and give him a taste of what he was craving for.

“You’re drunk–”

“Were you drunk those nights when you’d stare at me when I visit Hayeon? Were you drunk when you pretend you didn’t find me hot? Or were you drunk when you moan extra louder whenever I’m around while being fucked by your boy-toy? Huh?” You couldn’t even recognize his voice at this point. He sounds so… out of it.

“That’s–”

“Being drunk has nothing to do with this, y/n. I’m gonna ask you again, you can just turn around and pretend nothing happened, and we’re just both drunk to think straight. But tell me, y/n, the truth. Didn’t you at least think about what it’s like? To be fucked properly?”

Think about it? Fuck that. You fantasized about it. Day and night. Haechan plagued your mind twenty-five-eight, and the fact that he’s inside your friend’s room instead of yours.

So yeah, you did more than thinking about it.

“This is bad..” You whimpered, lips a paperthin away from each other.

“You make me do bad things, very, very bad things. But then again, I’m not a stranger to being the bad guy.”

And just as Haechan lets the last word fall from his pretty lips, you took the bait. You shook the devil’s hand and kissed him. And from then on, you know there’s no going back.

Haechan pulled you by the waist, and your hand grips his neck to deepen the kiss. As your tongues danced to a perfect rhythm, you feel his other hand take the back of your left thigh, urging you to wrap them in his waist, signalling you to let him carry you. Which you did, you were always a good listener.

It’s crazy. You feel everything, all at once and it was so overwhelming but it felt right. Which is such a fucking lie because everything about this is wrong. It’s so wrong, but fuck it, it felt so right.

Carrying you by your ass, Haechan managed to walk inside one of the rooms, and because you’re so hyper focused on touch and what his lips are doing, you didn’t even realize that you’re already in a bed, ‘til you felt a soft texture on your back.

Haechan pulled away, and takes a second to look at you from above, “Fuck, you’re so pretty. You’ve always been prettier,”

It sounded so bad, yet so good in your ears. You can’t believe you’re hearing this from a boy who’s just a month ago, drooling over your friend.

“Shut up before we come back to our senses and realize how fucked up this is,” You murmured.

“Why do you gotta spoil the mood, baby?” He whines but still kissed you again, letting his hands roam free across your body.

His fingers stealthily pulled the hem of your shirt, letting his bare hands come in contact with your stomach which you respond with a shudder.

“Hmm, my baby’s ticklish.” He chuckled as if he just unlocked a new discovery.

He continued kissing you on your neck, you assume its to distract you from his hand slowly creeping up your bra. Which he does a bad job at because you can feel everything he’s doing. And once he came in contact with your nipple, you let out a proper moan.

“God, you even sound pretty.” You supposed you already expected him to be a talker in bed, but nobody prepared you on how good he can be at it.

“Can I take this off?” He looks at you as he tugs your shirt.

“Please,”

He smirks, “Let’s just.. take everything off, hmm?”

You eagerly nodded. You keep on thinking excuses in your head, that in some fucked up way, this is okay. That this was fine. That this is how it should be.

Before you know it, you were naked in front of him, You’re naked in front of your friend’s boyfriend.

Haechan used his arms to lift himself up, looking at your body with lust dripping from his iris, jaws slightly ajar. “Fuck.”

Not long before his hands continued roaming around your body and it felt like every single touch burned, but you loved every single sensation that came with it.

“This is bad…” You whisper, but your hands pull him closer.

“So bad,” He says, grinding his clothed member on your core, and even if the rough denim felt uncomfortable, it doesn’t compare to the pleasure that it gave you.

You see his other hand struggle to open his pants and pull ‘em down. You help him with his shirt which he gladly removed, and when you’re both exposed, that’s when he finally puts his hand to good use.

You moan at the initial contact of his fingers onto your folds. He used his free hand to get the hair out of your face, just to see every single reaction you gave him.

He deepens the contact, until you feel his long fingers sink in and thats when you curse. It felt fucking good. “Hae..chan,”

“Uh-huh,” He encourages.

His fingers went in and out, gradually going faster, and you couldn’t help but whimper. You grab his wrist when you felt like cummin, because you can’t believe he managed to make you feel this way, this quickly.

“Your hands,” He warned, so you let go. This authoritative voice he has made you feel some type of way.

He continued to move, like he knew you were in the verge. “Look at me when you cum,” He says, this time with a much softer approach.

But it was hard to open your eyes– especially when you started to feel euphoric. However, Haechan wasn’t gonna take it. He grabbed your face, forcefully making you look at him. “Open your fucking eyes, or else I’m gonna stop.”

“No, p-please.” You shake your head.

“Then look at me,” He says.

And then, you exploded. A moaning mess, you try to stop your legs from shaking but it proved to be ineffective, as they still shook from the sensation you just felt. It was different– everything felt different with him.

“Good girl,” He almost growls, “Good fucking girl,”

You were catching your breath, recovering from the mess you made. Haechan was something else. You’ve had orgasm before, but this was the first time it felt so real.

“Can I fuck you?”

There’s a shift in his voice, almost confusing you why he sounded so… whiny. You bit your lip as you look up at him and you nod.

He whispered a soft okay, guiding you to sit up. Thats when you realize he’s also naked and fuck, of course he has to be hung. There’s more to his face— that’s why girls go fucking coocoo for this man.

He sits up by the head board as he pumps his own cock in front of you, while he looks at you lustfully, as if he’s seeing his fantasy come to life. “You’re so fucking beautiful,” he whispers.

You crawl your way to him, eyes can’t help but stare at his hand desperately jerking himself off. You tap it away and he knew by then what you were trying to do. His hands instinctively go to the back of your head. He looks down at you by the tilt of his head as his jaw hangs low.

Your hand replaces his, and Haechan knew– he’s fucked. The flick of your wrist felt so good.

And then, you try and give him a tiny lick, and he could’ve sworn he almost came there and then. But he’s not a pussy– oh no, if he’s gonna come, it has to be from fucking you.

“Oh, fuck, y/n,” he moans when you finally suck him fully, gripping the remainder of his base where you can’t go even more lower. Your name falls way too familiar from his lips.

Not even a full minute of you sucking him off, he pulls you by the hair. “Need to fuck you now or I’ll come,”

“Okay,” You whisper, waiting for him to guide you what to do next.

“Ride me, baby.”

You spread your legs and straddle him. You grab his cock and line him up to your core and slowly sinks in. Both of you gasp, you from the stretch, him from the grip you had on him. It felt so right– so perfect.

“You’re made for me,” He says more to himself than you.

You gain momentum, finding a rhythm that works with the both of you. Every time you sunk down, Haechan lets out a whine– then a praise after. His words, if you’re being honest, is what kept you going besides, of course, the feeling of him being inside you.

“Baby, my god,”

“Yes,” You almost growl when you felt that you’re coming undone, again, the twist in your stomach slowly getting more intense.

“Y/n, baby, do I make you feel good?” There he goes again with his whiny voice.

“Yes,” You breathe out.

“You fuck me so good,” He moans, eyes rolling backwards. He looks so scrumptious, and you just want to ruin him.

His eyes started burning through yours, you don’t even see him blinking. Haechan does not want to miss anything on your face as he fucks you. He wants to remember every single second.

“Shit, shit,” He curses, wrapping his arm on your waist, forcing you to fall onto his chest before planting both his feet on the mattress to fuck up into you.

A high pitch moan came out of you, and you couldn’t believe you could even make that noise. Haechan takes it out of you.

“You make me– fuck, please, please– y/n,” He’s blurting out words, burying his head on your neck. You grab the headboard to balance yourself because it felt like you’re gonna fly out of the bed with the way he’s pounding onto you.

“Say my name,” He groans.

“Haecha–”

“No– Donghyuck. My name’s Donghyuck.”

“Donghyuck, please, cum in me.”

And just like a command, or a magic word, he stilled in you and you felt warm ropes painting your insides as he let out the sluttiest moan you’ve every heard from a man.

“F-fuck,”

You were shaking, but so is he.

“You’ll fucking kill me, y/n.”

Only you, him and the faint music outside these four walls are the only distraction you have as you laid beside him. And then it hit you.

“We just… fucked,”

Haechan— no, scratch that, Donghyuck, let out a snort. “Yeah we did.”

“That’s really bad,”

“It is,”

You sit up, starting to grab your clothes one by one.

After-dick clarity starts to sink in and the pleasure from before was replaced with a crashing wave of guilt.

“This is a mistake, Donghyuck.”

He brushes his hands across his face as he tried to get a hold of your wrist, to stop you.

“Then let’s keep making mistakes,” His voice was sultry. A note lower than what he usually sounds. Like when he was fuck—

No. Hayeon. Haechan and Hayeon. Fuck.

“Big ones,” He continued. You pull your hands away from him and as soon as you dressed up properly, you look at him one last time.

Half naked, he bites his lip as he matches your eyes.

“This will never happen again.” Was the last thing that you say, before slamming the door in front of his face.

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡⋆

“Donghyuck—”

“Hmm, yeah? Feel so good, huh?”

You look at the mirror as Donghyuck pounds into you in oblivion.

Like a starved man, he locks both your arms around you back, with his hand, while his other hand is busy putting a joint in between his lips.

He hits a long drag, but not letting it affect the way he fucks into you. He’s still in so deep, and it felt euphoric. He looks at you at the mirror and smirks.

“My baby wants a hit?”

You nod, desperately at that, and he then bends over, letting his refined chest hit your back. Instantly, you felt a cool sensation from his dog-tag, but every inch of his skin was warm. Hot.

He puts the joint in between your lips, letting you drag a long one before licking the back of your ears.

“Told you it’ll double the fun when we’re high,” He whispers.

“Love it, Hyuckie, love it so much–”

“Love fucking you too, my y/n. So fucking much.”

You, also as if starving, ate all your words.

Because when you said you’ll never mess around with him, you still found him eight inches deep inside you the next week.

It happened again, and again, and again.

You know this will blow up in your face eventually– but you can’t help it when Donghyuck gives you everything you wanted. He fucks you like he owns you, like you’re the only person in his world.

And despite how many times you convince yourself that you’re a strong willed person, Donghyuck just knows how to get you. One smile, one look, and you’re on your knees for him. Your name just falls off of his lips way too smoothly, melting you into a puddle each time.

But everytime he walks out the door, an immediate wave of guilt washed over you. You hate that you can’t call him yours, even when he makes you feel like you’re his.

He was your own brand of ecstasy, taking you to places you didn’t even know existed, and even though you knew it was all in your head, pretending like it’s real for a moment, felt so addicting.

You knew not to be attached, but you also knew going into this that you’re basically setting yourself up. A suicide mission.

It doesn’t matter how perfect it felt to be with him. Give yourself an hour and you’re back to being the other woman. Because at the end of the day, you know, he’s going back to her.

“You okay, pretty?” He kisses your shoulder blade as you sat in his bed.

“Yeah,” You silently say, smiling. Hiding the fact that when he closes his eyes, you prayed he never sees her.

Because God knows that you do.

He sighs, as if he knows what you were thinking about. Of course, the elephant in the room takes up the entire space. He can’t pretend that what’s happening is normal.

“I’ll tell her soon, okay? I’ll take all the blame– just, give me time, I promise.” He gently caresses your hair.

“Hmm, okay.” Your soft smiles is why he kept coming back. You’re the most prettiest person he’d ever had, and he knows it doesn’t mean much when it comes from him, but he swears he’d never seen anyone prettier.

He just wished he had seen you first.

You don’t know when the drunken mistakes and reckless escapes turn into so much more, but you knew you were falling. Damn you for falling easily. Damn your heart for being so clumsy.

Meanwhile, Haechan knew he was in deep shit.

“Look, dude, I know I don’t usually compliment you and shit, but I’m actually proud of you for being in a relationship this long, man.” Jeno says, sincerely at that.

He liked the compliments, and this new image he had managed to create. Like he’s a great guy, like he’s finally maturing. He likes that people finally likes him, in a light he’s never been on before. But then, you just had to happen.

And Haechan just happens to like you. A lot. And now that he’s got a taste of you, he’s afraid he can’t ever get enough.

It’s so bad to the point that instead of stopping whatever is going on between you two, he’s thinking of ways how to keep you, without incriminating you. Because he’s aware that when this all blows up, it’ll be bad, not only for him, but to you too.

“Are you okay, baby?” Hayeon’s touch started to burn, it started to feel unfamiliar. And he knows he’s being a fucking douchebag, but he can’t lie to himself.

“Y-yeah, uh, Shotaro wants me to come with him to the gym.” He says some pathetic excuse to get away from her. Mostly from the guilt, that’s eating him alive.

Hayeon nods, but a glint of suspicion in her eyes lingers.

“I saw Shotaro studying at the library that day. I asked him if he was with Haechan, but he said he’d never seen him.”

That was the first time you felt the world started to shrink on you.

She was crying on your shoulder, all you could do was hold her. But your hand stung, from the blade you were willing on her back.

You weren’t always nice, but never have you imagined you could do this to her. Hayeon was your friend.

And it’s not like you didn’t avoid Donghyuck, because God knows, that you really tried to.

It was another usual Friday, where Soohyun, a senior, throws a party. It was a big deal, with him graduating this semester. He had invited you personally, and it would be strange for you to turn it down because you had never turn booze down.

But you knew he was gonna be there.

You had ignored his calls and text from last week, avoiding every instances that you might come across the Devil himself.

But hey, Soohyun’s house is big. You could probably go for a couple of hours without crossing paths with Dong— Haechan, right?

Wrong.

Because here he is, sitting across you with his hands wrapped around his girlfriend. Hayeon came in– as if a few days ago, she didn’t cry all night because of him.

They look so inlove. It was disgusting.

“I haven’t seen you in a while,” Soohyun popped beside you. He scootches impossibly closer, putting his arms around you.

“You’re leaving in three months, wouldn’t miss it for the world,” You say, very casually, that it almost sounded fake. Not that it isn’t, but whatever.

Soohyun continued his advances, and you just let him. It at least helped you– although very annoying, still, you’d rather have him than be stuck looking at him with her.

Soohyun is an attractive man. He’s very muscle-y yet slim, fair skin and sharp eyes. He’s one of the guys who you can’t deny that he’s certainly a catch. He’s very tall too, so, yeah, not bad at all.

Unlike someone, who’s very different from Soohyun. Sunkissed, plump lips, soft yet toned body, and tall enough where his lips meets your forehead perfectly. Voluptuous ass, cunty little waist, and most important of it all, big fucking di–

“Soohyun-ah, get up in here!” A loud voice from the main hall called out.

“Gotta greet the boys real quick, sweetheart. If you want something– help yourself at my kitchen, okay?” Soohyun pecks at your cheek. You smiled and nodded at him and watched him walk away.

Unfortunately, your eyes doesn't have anything else to look at but him. Surprisingly, he was already looking at you. However, it wasn’t the usual sweet look he gives you. He looks pissed as he grips the can of beer.

His hand wasn’t on Hayeon anymore. He was leaning back as he eyes you from across the room. Thankfully, Hayeon was busy giggling at somebody else’s joke.

You raise your left brow at him and mouthed, “What?”

He smirks, but it’s nowhere near being enthusiastic, before he pokes his tongue on his cheeks as he shakes his head.

You just roll your eyes at him and before you could even melt from all the attention he’s giving to you, you decided to escape to the kitchen for an ounce of peace.

However, you’ve only enjoyed not even a minute of peace when you feel a presence behind you. You grunt.

“So, you’re with Soohyun now, huh?” Haechan says in his deep voice.

“Not your business,”

He let out a chuckle in disbelief, “When does it become my business? When I’m fucking you from behind?”

Your eyes widen at his sudden burst, as if you two aren’t in the same vicinity of his fucking girlfriend.

“Are you insane?! Hayeon’s right there!”

“You make me insane! You were all over that fucking assface– in front of me. When you know damn well that I–” He manages to stop himself. Haechan bit his lip, before taking a deep breath to calm himself down.

“What, Haechan? What were you gonna say?” Your eyes started to burn, but no tears yet. Not yet.

He sniffs, shaking his head and let it fall down as if to hide his eyes. “You weren’t… reading my texts, you weren’t.. answering my fucking calls. I tried following you through your classes but you’re just too fucking good in pretending that I don’t exist. I’m.. going crazy, y/n.”

You couldn’t believe your eyes and ears. His voice is shaking and he won’t look you in the eye. Is he.. crying?

“Please, don’t go with Soohyun. Please don’t sleep with him, don’t kiss him or do anything with him. I’m begging you– because I don’t think I can handle it.” He whispers, but you’ve heard everything. The frustration and sadness in his voice made it impossible for you to not hear it.

“This isn’t fair– Haecha—”

“That’s not my name, not to you.” His strict tone went back for a bit.

“Donghyuck, you’re being really unfair. I get to sit in front of you and her looking so disgustingly inlove but the second another man shows interest in me you start this shit? That’s so fucking mean.” You wanted to shout at him, to yell at him but you knew better. A party doesn’t seem to be a good place to announce you’re fucking your friend’s boyfriend.

“I know, baby, trust me I feel so fucking horrible but I won’t lie to you. Ever since that night, you’re all I think about. No, fuck that, ever since the first time I laid eyes on you I knew I made a mistake. And fuck me for denying it but I can’t lie to myself now. I wanted to end it with her–”

“You want to end it? Okay. I’ll help you,” You stare at him blankly, not even sure if what you’re about to do is the right thing. You’re beyond being reasonable right now. You can see the confusion behind his eyes, followed by shock when you shouted.

“Hayeon-ah!” You call out her name.

Haechan was terrified and panicked at the same time. Your stunt poured a bucket of ice all over him, leaving him frozen on the spot.

Not even a full thirty seconds when Hayeon showed up, completely unaware of the conversation that had just occured.

“What? Why?” her tone was unassuming, despite the painfully obvious tension that filled the room.

“Donghyuck here, wants to tell you something.” You say, once again blankly. You couldn’t show any emotions because you don’t even know what to feel in the first place.

“Donghyuck? Who’s that?”

You look at her in slight incredulousness, but now’s not the time to be baffled by that.

“Haechan, I meant. He wants to tell you something,”

He was standing there, frozen in shock as he looks at you, then to his clueless girlfriend, waiting for whatever he’s gonna say. He swore his heart beats out of his chest. Like the room started to spin and the oxygen’s suddenly not fit for the three of you.

His hands are shaking, weighing the situation that’s unfolding in front of him. Once the very confident and sure of himself Lee Haechan was standing here like a beaten puppy, couldn’t even form a proper fucking sentence.

“I-I..”

He gulps, before glancing at you one last time, “We need to go, Hayeon-ah.” He grabs her wrist and before you knew it, he’s already gone.

You don’t know why you would even expect anything. You knew he wouldn’t, you knew he treasured her still despite how many times he crawls back to you. You knew he’d never pick you, but damn, it still hurt like a motherfucker.

You knew you were in the wrong side, and deep inside you, you’re calmed by the fact that there’s two of you on the that side, but then, you were left alone wallowing in the dark. Like you always were.

To be second to her, again, you thought was the most hurtful thing you could ever feel.

But to not be chosen by him, felt way worse.

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡⋆

Haechan didn’t even know why he didn’t just tell Hayeon right there and then.

Was he afraid of being judged? Come on, he’d been judged his entire life! Looks from people never bothered him, in fact, it exhilarated him.

He’s sure he wants you, no one else but you, so what’s the deal?

He thinks once again, that maybe, just maybe, he didn’t want you to suffer from being judged. He knew that if the truth was revealed in front of people from the campus, they’d crucify you more than him. That’s the sad reality.

He’s all to blame, yes, maybe you too, but most of it is his fault. If only he’d wait a little longer to see you first before Hayeon, if only he’d ended his shallow relationship with her right after he saw you.

If only he could see himself from a different perspective, he’d definitely slap himself across the face.

He never thought he’d scoop so low, to cheat on a girl– but it’s you. Fuck everything if it’s you he’d get after all of this.

“Are you okay?”

Of course, whenever he’s in a rough situation, Renjun just coincidentally pops out of nowhere.

“No dude, I’m really not.” There’s no use at pretending he’s the big bad Lee Haechan around Renjun. He knows him in and out.

“Is it about y/n?”

That, he didn’t know that Renjun knows.

“How’d you..”

“Saw her running out of the apartment one time.” Renjun smiles as he thinks of that one time he caught you. You never saw him tho, he was standing still in the dark kitchen stirring his coffee.

“I fucked up, man.” Haechan lets himself loose, voice breaking as he covers his face with both of his palms.

“You did, you really did. I always knew you were a..” Renjun debates if he could use the term knowing his friend’s state of mind, “… player but I never thought you would actually cheat. You hate cheaters, man, we all do.”

“Look, you need to come clean this shit up. Own up to your bullshit– tell Hayeon. She deserves to know.”

Renjun was right. He can’t keep on hurting the poor girl, and the longer he waits, the more painful it would be for Hayeon, thus, affecting you more.

He’s just scared that after all this, he still couldn’t get you. He’s afraid that he’ll lose everything.

“Hayeon-ah..” He calls for her name as soon as he enters her apartment. He knew you wouldn’t be here.

He found Hayeon on her bed, scrolling mindlessly through her phone. When her eyes found his, she quickly jumps out to greet him.

“Hi baby! I found a new movie we could wa–”

“We need to talk.”

Her expression falls rapidly, visibly confused as to why Haechan suddenly sounded serious.

“W-what’s happening?” She asks.

Haechan knew there was no stepping away from this. He needed to do this, not only for you, but for him, and her aswell.

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡⋆

[11:28pm] haechan: i’ll talk to her

[11:28pm] haechan: i’ll end it

[11:29pm] haechan: please wait for me

You hate to admit it, but there was a glint of hope in your chest when you read the text. You knew not to expect anything, especially after what happened last time. But this was different. He ignites the familiar spark in your system.

However, those texts was three days ago.

Three days, you have not received any other message from him. Not a text, not a call, not a fucking letter from a fucking pigeon. Nothing. Silence.

You started making paragraphs in your head– you were overthinking every little thing. Hayeon had not messaged you either, there was totally no some sort of retaliation you were expecting from her. Did he really say it? Did he confess? He did, didn’t he?

“You don’t look good,”

Jurin has came and visited you from Sacred Heart, slightly concerned about your lack of enthusiasm in your texts. From her words, you seemed ‘not you’.

“Hayeon hasn’t yelled at me yet. She manages to get out the apartment before I even wake up. Or I don’t know– maybe she’s sleeping at his place.”

It makes no sense. There should be some sort of confrontation because you fucking slept with her boyfriend. You’d rather that than nothing, because it’s driving you insane.

“Haechan’s MIA too?” Jurin asked which you just nodded to.

She sighed, and you knew what she was gonna say next. “I told you this isn’t a good idea,” She says as she sips on her coffee.

“I didn’t say it was. I just hoped– you know, he’d fucking call me.”

“You know you sound insane, right? You’re the side chick here, you don’t make demands. You don’t have the right.”

The last sentence hit you hard. Jurin was right, you sound pathetic. You need to remind yourself that you’re the other person. You were the parasite that ruined a relationship. But hey, it takes two to tango, right?

But as the old saying goes, Be careful what you wish for.

Because that same day, all your questions was answered.

The nights you spent restless, was all worth nothing. Because you just saw him, with her. They’re walking hand in hand, as if nothing ever happened.

You almost lost the grip of your bag as you watched them walk away. Hand in hand. Hand in fucking hand, still.

“You okay?” You hear one of your friends from class asks you. That’s when you realized that there were tears forming on your eyes so you quickly wipe them away.

But you swore, that even before you look away from them, you saw Hayeon look at you with a smirk, before turning away.

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡⋆

@hayeonssi__: some ppl never change. once a slut, will always be a slut. :D good morning everyone!

comments (45) likes (106)

@kk_nara: is this who i think this is lolll

@the.minho.won: she should be embarrassed haha dude thats so trashhhh

@kimsana: oh it’s definitely that bitch LOL

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That was the first shot out of the many ones she threw at your direction. This just proves that Haechan did confess– but for some unknown reason, they’re still together.

You recognize those usernames, of course you did. They were Hayeon’s friends from Sacred Heart, the same ones you had before. They didn’t need to mention your name– you already knew they were pertaining to you.

Surely, the gossip was already spread around at Sacred. Hayeon’s influence over there is still huge. If she was popular over here at NCU, then she’s a fucking celebrity back at Sacred Heart.

So, yeah, you’re probably in some groupchat by now.

You chuckle in irony. For a person that hates to be in the limelight, you sure have a weird way to stay out of it.

And then, like a plague, it started.

People on the hallways started looking at you weird, like you were naked. Like you’re being escorted at a fucking execution. You thought they probably had suspicions. Actually, no, it wasn’t a suspicion, it was a fact. You slept with someone else’s boyfriend. You out of all people in here deserved the judgemental eyes that’s following you right now.

“Is it true?” Yangyang once cornered you at the emergency staircase.

“I don’t know what to tell you. I don’t know what you heard,” You say truthfully.

“You slept with Haechan? Your roommate’s boyfriend?”

That’s the confirmation you needed. It’s out in the open. Sometimes it amazes you how words spreads like a wildfire.

You just look at Yangyang blankly, as if to answer his question with your mere silence. You assume he’s smart enough to tell what you meant.

“W-why would you..”

“Yangyang, please, save me the fucking lecture because I already had one a couple minutes ago from class. You were there, remember?”

Yangyang stood there, dumbfounded by how you chose to not take these things seriously.

“You do know that Haechan has a fucking harem that would eat you alive, right? Like dude, I know most of this is that asshole’s fault but they’re gonna blame it out on you!”

You find it endearing how he shows care for you— if you’re being honest you thought Yangyang would be like the others, but you thought wrong.

“What would you suggest I do, then? Stop attending classes and hide out like a little bitch? No, Yangyang. I’ll take what’s coming from me. I know what I did,” You walk away from him, but not before you paused.

“And tell your friend that I don’t want anything to do with him. He’s a fucking pussy.”

And with that, you left. You barely even scratched the surface of the avalanche that was coming for you in the next days.

People never seemed to care that there was the two of you that did it. You’ve never head of anyone curse at Haechan— they’re all pointing at you.

Why would they? When Haechan and Hayeon seemed to be going strong. You were just a pathetic attempt at trying to tear them apart, then failing miserably.

Hurtful words thrown at you, left and right. A homewrecker, a slut, and backstabber were in your mind almost every time you went out in the hallways.

It stung, sure. But it got to a point where you let it hurt until you can’t feel anything anymore.

One thing’s clear. Haechan left you to fend for yourself.

And then, couple of days later, it suddenly got quiet.

All the shushed gossip around you was gone, all the whispers that followed you dissipates. It was so abrupt. Like everybody started to mind their own business. Miraculously.

Apparently, out of all the people you least expected to help you out, Seungcheol had something to do with it.

@iamcseungcheol: @hayeonssi__ @haechanahceah tell your fans to chill out before i bust in your shitass school and do it myself

comments (156) likes (564)

You didn’t want it to be him to defend you. You wished that it wasn’t his username you were reading and you hoped that Seungcheol could always remain the person who hurt you. Not the one to save you in the midst of the chaos that seemed to target you.

You didn’t want to feel the gratitude towards the one person you swore you will never associate with ever again.

Nevertheless, it was still him. In some wicked way of fate, no matter how horrible he is, he’s always been by your side. No matter what.

And perhaps, that’s how life goes. Nevermind the fact that you fell inlove with someone else.

You should always choose whoever chooses you.

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡⋆

“How’d she look?”

Haechan frantically followed Renjun around the apartment waiting for an answer.

“What did you expect? Of course she doesn’t look okay!” Renjun says, while taking off his coat and throwing it at the couch.

“Fuck, should I call Taeyong-hyung again?” Haechan sat beside Jaemin, biting his lips. Meanwhile, Jeno on the other side just looked at Haechan, slightly concerned.

“When did you last sleep, dude?” Jeno was staring at his friend’s eyes, the dark circles under them multiplying each day.

Haechan just shakes his head, avoiding Jeno’s question. He’s got more in his plate right now and he doesn’t need to be bothered about anything else. His only concern is about you.

He combs his hair out with his fingers in frustration. “I’m gonna call Taeyong-hyung.” He decides, standing up to grab his phone. He was about to take a step before Jaemin pulled him by his wrist and made him sit down beside him again.

“You’ve been calling them non-stop since Friday. Taeyong-hyung said he’d do something about it but it doesn’t mean it’s gonna be as quick as you want it to be. Haechan-ah, word travels quick and you can’t control each and everyone who attends this campus.” Jaemin says seriously.

“I know but that’s why I called Taeyong-hyung. He controls this school, doesn’t he? What the fuck is he waiting for–”

“Not to the point where he could shut every student up overnight. Dude, you gotta calm down–” Jeno’s small intervention speech was cut off when Haechan turns to him coldly.

“She’s fucking on her own, man. Hayeon despises her, the entire school turns on her and she can’t even— even defend herself. Y/n quite literally has nobody right now,” Haechan‘s voice was trembling. “--and you’re telling me to calm the fuck down?”

Jeno didn’t like his harsh tone. He furrows his brows at Haechan as he stood up to level with him. “And why is that, genius? Because you fucking decided to be an horny asshole and fuck your girlfriend’s bestfriend.”

Haechan snaps and shoves Jeno aggressively. This marks the first time Haechan has physically tried to start a fight with one of his bestfriends. As a natural reaction, Renjun and Jaemin was alarmed.

Jaemin was the closest one between the two, so he quickly goes in between them.

“Jesus fucking– what’s happening!” Renjun yells.

“I know I fucked up– that’s why I’m doing everything I can to protect y/n from all of this. That’s why I’m going fucking crazy trying to shut everybody up. So, yeah, Jeno. I know where I went wrong. Fuck you.” Haechan spits with a tightened jaw and clenched fists.

“And this is the first fucking thing you think of?” Jeno answers, still being blocked by Jaemin.

“What else can I do, dipshit?!” Haechan yells back with Renjun on his side.

“Oh, I don’t know– break up with that fucking girlfriend of yours and protect y/n yourself, dumbass!”

“You think I haven’t tried?!”

The room went silent. The three men didn’t know what to say and the only noise that surrounds the room was the heavy breathing from Haechan.

He looks up, stretching his neck as he remembers the night when he tried to end things with Hayeon.

⋆

“I know.”

That was the first thing Haechan hears when he brought Hayeon back to her apartment.

He was caught offguard, of course. Because he knew what Hayeon meant. There was no other meaning of why she would say that without any context.

However, he wanted to make sure. “W-what do you mean?”

The left corner of Hayeon’s lip rises, her eyes remained blank. “You’ve been fucking with Y/n behind my back, weren’t you?”

Haechan was tense, in a closed off stance. He avoided her eyes, his gaze fixed firmly on the floor. He didn’t say anything, and that already says everything.

“I expected this from her, you know, being who she is. But you, Haechan.. I thought you changed?” Hayeon’s voice trembled, as the first sign of emotion she showed.

“Look, Hayeon–”

“You wanted me, Haechan. Don’t you remember? You did everything to get me and now that I’m yours this is how you treat me? I should’ve never introduced you to that witch.” Her voice was rightfully harsh. But it still rang in Haechan’s ear– the insults she threw at you.

“It was entirely my fault, Hayeon. I went up to her–”

“Oh come on. She’s an expert at this, Haechan. You’ve known her for months, I knew her for years. I know what she’s capable of. That’s why I never trusted her being around you. And you know what’s annoying? You took the fucking bitch’s bait.” Hayeon wiped her eyes, even though no tears had fallen yet.

“I’m trying to make this all right and end it here–”

Hayeon slaps Haechan across the face. Haechan’s eyes are wide, and he almost curses because of the pain but he reminds himself that he deserves this.

“End it? Are you fucking kidding me? You think I’ll let you go and run over to that slut’s arms? After you fucking screwed me over?!” Hayeon yells, no, screams so loud that her voice starts to strain.

Haechan was speechless. He doesn’t know what to do– Hayeon is unconsolable. But he can’t just leave without doing anything. He remembers the texts he sent you. You’re expecting him to end it tonight with Hayeon.

Slowly, with his eyes shaking, he knelt down– one knee at a time. Hayeon gasps in disbelief as she watched him sink down.

“I’m sorry. I know this fuck ass apology won’t cut it but we both know this relationship is bound to end. And we need to end it tonight, Hayeon-ah. I’ll apologize over and over again, please, don’t make this harder for the both of us,” He begged.

If this moment was captured by some sort of camera, it’ll be legendary among the entire campus. Lee Haechan, the so-called heartbreaker, on his knees in front of a girl. Unbelievable.

Hayeon didn’t answer, but she did freeze upon looking at him. And then, half a minute has passed, before she opens her mouth again.

“She really had you fooled, huh? What makes you think she wouldn’t make the same fucking thing to you? She’s a slut, Haechan! She’ll never stick to one guy!” She says through her gritted teeth.

Funny, everybody used to say the same damn thing about him.

“That’ll suck, but what can I do? I love her,” Haechan says in defeat, shoulders slumps and his breathing turned shallow.

Another slap landed on his cheek, and he just accepted it. Another, after another, until Hayeon sank down in exhaustion. Now they’re both in their knees.

“What about me, Haechan-ah? I love you,”

And slowly, she rolls up her sleeves to show what Haechan never expected to see.

“H-hayeon..”

She smiled, “Don’t you feel sorry? You did this to me, Haechan.”

He blinks rapidly, eyes stuck at the bandages on her wrist. “P-please, Hayeon.. not over me. Don’t.. don’t do this,”

“If you break up with me, it’ll be worst.”

⋆

Haechan doesn’t remember the last time he smiled. Genuinely.

He used to be on top of the world. Nothing stopped Haechan from being unapologetically him. Cruising through his life with nothing to worry about.

Now, he just felt.. empty. All the excitement and adrenaline that fuels his system was drained, and the carefree attitude he lived with was all sucked out of his soul.

Maybe this was the karma they were talking about? Maybe, maybe not. He doesn’t have the energy to care.

The aggressive knocking on the bathroom door was getting louder, loud enough to surpass the booming bass from the music outside.

“What the fuck’s taking so long?!” He hears a random man outside.

He assumes the line to the bathroom is getting longer, but all he cares about is the lines he was doing inside. It felt freaking awesome.

Straightening his back, he sniffs to get all of it in his system. He then rubbed his nose out of the excess before shouting back. “Fuck you!”

The sudden rush gets to him, and he closes his eyes to let it sink in. Jaws slacking, he takes one deep breath. He looks at the mirror.

The person staring back at him seems familiar, but can’t tell who it is. Is it him? Is this how the great Lee Haechan looks now?

“Woah, you’re handsome,” He says to his own reflection.

If only he was sober, he’ll recognize everything that had changed. The expressive eyes he boasts on and on about before are now empty, and the smile he used to wear everyday are non-existent.

This isn’t Lee Haechan, fuck it, this isn’t even Lee Donghyuck. Standing in front of him is a man that’s gave up on everything.

The room started to spin, and only then Haechan knew he had taken too much.

All of a sudden, a loud bang depicts the door being forced open. He turns to see his friend, Jeno, heaving as he quite literally kicked the door open, followed by Jaemin and Renjun’s worried faces.

“Oh? Hello,” Haechan chuckled at the ridiculousness of it all. Did Jeno really kicked the door open?

What he also doesn’t realize is he’s now slumped on the bathroom floor, leaning at the bathtub. Weird, he didn’t remember falling down.

And then he hears it. Her voice. That fucking voice that haunts him.

“Haechan! What the hell!” She squeals as she pushes his friends away.

“Of course you’d be here,” He grunts.

Haechan tries to stand but failed, ending up on the same position as he was seconds ago. Renjun helps him up but Hayeon pushes his hands away. “I’ll take care of my boyfriend,” She hisses at him.

Haechan frowns at this and looks at her. “Don’t touch Renjun like that,” He slurs his words but its clear enough for Hayeon to roll her eyes.

“You can’t carry him home, Hayeon. We’ll take care of him.” Jaemin interferes. Hayeon thought for a second and she hates to agree with them, but they’re right. She’ll make a fool of herself if she thinks she can carry a grown ass man.

Jaemin and Jeno takes each of Haechan’s arms as they carried him off the ground. Haechan roams his eyes for a bit when it landed on Hayeon’s wrist.

Weird, the bandages are off. They fought over it just this morning, how come there’s no marks on it now?

He shakes his head off, before he turns to Renjun. “Injunnie, are you hurt?” He asks sweetly and his friend just patted him as Renjun sighs and follows them out.

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡⋆

“Are you really gonna follow me around?” Haechan asks Jaemin as he watches his friend scroll on his phone while he walks on the hallway to his class.

“Cut the pissy attitude, I have better things to do than this, but after the shit you pulled last night, you pissed Renjun off so we gotta take turns in babysitting your dumbass.” Jaemin casually says, eyes still on the phone.

“Renjun can kiss my ass,”

“I can kiss your what, now?”

Haechan turned around to see Renjun standing with one brow lifted and his arms crossed. “Oh shit, when did you get here?”

“Shut up,” Renjun turns to Jaemin, “Jaemin-ah, Jeno says you two had a schedule at the gym.”

“Right,” Jaemin’s eyes widened, swiftly turning around and skedaddled away. Leaving Haechan and Renjun.

“Honestly, Injunnie, I can handle myself,”

Renjun looks at him as if Haechan was spitting nonsense, “So you passing out at some random party’s bathroom after doing lines, is you handling yourself?”

“I didn’t know I worry you this much, you really do love me, huh?” Haechan pokes Renjun’s sides as they walked, Renjun responding with a punch on his shoulder.

They continued play fighting until they turned a corner and hears the school’s counselor. “Ms. Y/L/N, we’re not done talking,”

The door opens and Haechan stood frozen. His breath hitches when you walk out of the office, covered with an oversized hoodie. His jaw slackens as he eyed you, this was the first time he saw you after that night at Soohyun’s party.

It felt like his blood ran cold, but his entire body started to warm up. He couldn’t do anything but stand there and see it unfold.

“Sucks to be you, because I’m done talking,” You say in a raspy voice.

Even from afar, Haechan could see your red eyes and pale lips. He also got a glimpse of sweat beads forming on your forehead. Initially, Haechan jumps to conclusion that the counselor had done something bad to you, however, two other people walked out of the office.

It was Ms. Lim, a professor and Nurse Suh.

The hallway was empty, and it would be suspicious if they had just stood there. So, Renjun, decides to grab Haechan’s wrist. Haechan didn’t move but Renjun grips him harshly. “We’re not leaving, we’re just hiding.” He says, pulling the boy with him and hiding on the corner.

Haechan takes in your posture, your aura and your entire vibe. You were still eternally beautiful, but he can sense that you’re not okay.

“Is it your boyfriend?” Ms. Lim ask softly, obviously trying to gain even the tiniest of cooperation with you.

“Seungcheol has nothing to do with this,”

Haechan flinches, eyes burning through you as he heard the name. It broke him, into a million pieces but he still manages to stand in his feet, wanting to hear the rest of it.

“We should go–” Renjun stopped talking when he saw the look in his bestfriend’s eyes.

“I need to stay,” He whispers, barely audible.

“The bruises on your neck are concerning, that’s unnatural, you can’t say its just because of your period. Somebody had to inflict force to create bruising that’s as horrible as those around your neck.” Nurse Suh explained.

Haechan can feel his own heart shattering. Mouth slowly opening in disbelief, tears threatening to escape. What he felt upon hearing that was beyond heartbreak, the pain was unbearable enough to cause him to go numb. With his hands shaking, he turned around.

He can hear Renjun calling his name but he focused on getting the hell out of there.

He finds himself outside your apartment, staring at the door not knowing what to do. He knows you’re not in here, yet he still can’t find it in himself to leave. He truly has no idea what step he should take next.

He doesn’t know how long he was standing there before the door opened, revealing the least person he wanted to see right now.

“Haechan? What’re you doing here?” Hayeon stood there, confused.

Haechan didn’t say anything, instead, looking down to confirm what's been killing him.

“Were you lying about this?” Haechan takes Hayeon’s clean wrists, and immediately, Hayeon snatched it back.

“W-why a-are you–”

“Hayeon-ah, please! J-just be honest, please,” Haechan yelled on top of his lungs, extremely tired of it all.

Hayeon knew there was no point in hiding it anymore, “Yes,”

And there it was. The truth that scared Haechan the most. He lost you, for no real reason.

The fact that he had left you suffering on your own, because of a horrible string of lies that held him from reaching out to you. All his sacrifices, for absolutely nothing.

“I knew what I did was wrong but did you have to lie about this?” His voice was now controlled, but the exhaustion was still pertinent.

“I can’t lose you to her, not her.. I’m so much better than her,” Hayeon breaks down crying, but Haechan just watches her hug her knees and sob.

“I think you never wanted me, Hayeon. You just wanted to compete with y/n, and you didn’t want to lose. This isn’t about me,”

“I hope you know that after what you did, you just stooped down to my level. We’re both fucking evil in this story, Hayeon. The only difference is that I tried making it right, but you will never stop if you wouldn’t have been caught.”

With that, Haechan walks away.

“Fine, fuck you, anyways! You both deserve each other!!” Hayeon screams, but Haechan just keeps walking.

Walking away from all the pain, from all the strings that bind him to her. He gets a whiff of freedom, and he felt relief knowing that the chapter that has him on hold has finally ended.

Haechan never expected Winter break to be this cold.

Afterall, the news said it wouldn’t even break last year’s temperature. But meh, what does the weatherman know? He might just spew bullshit to keep his job for all Hae-Donghyuck knows.

“You keep repeating the same show over and over again, Donghyuck-ah. Give up the remote!” Renjun’s girlfriend, Birdie, as everybody calls her, says as she tried to snatch the phone out of Donghyuck’s grasp.

“Remind me again why are you here?” Donghyuck jokes at her, earning a hefty slap on the wrist from Renjun.

“Renjun told me you wouldn’t be here.”

“Yeah, dude, you’re ruining our valentines day!” Renjun says lightly, but Donghyuck just mocks his words like a child.

“Do you have a thirdwheel kink?” Birdie kids again, but this time Donghyuck stood up.

“Y’know what, both of you can kiss my plump ass! Besides, who celebrates Valentines day at home? Renjun, you stingy bitch,” Donghyuck says as he grabs his coat and walks towards the door.

He hears both of them yelling at him to come back, saying they were just kidding. But Donghyuck knows that he’d be disturbing their cute-sy cozy home date bullcrap and he wouldn’t want to hear any of his friend’s fucking later on the evening.

“I’ll be back before eleven so you two should fuck now,” Donghyuck says before he closes the door.

And immediately, he regrets going outside. He’s literally gonna freeze his balls off, even with the layers of clothing he has right now.

“Aw shit,” He curses as he hugs himself, all the way to his car.

He drives off the streets of Seoul, with no particular destination. He just wanted to drive mindlessly, yet carefully, of course.

This was the first Valentines day Donghyuck had to spend alone.

He now swores off doing the shit he does before. No playing with girls, no fucking rando’s, and no doing hardcore drugs. ‘Til to this day, he still cringes when he thinks of what he used to be.

If the old Haechan could see him right now, he’d probably laugh in his face.

He then takes off his gloves for comfortability while driving, and he stares lovingly at his middle finger.

There, inked deep within his ring finger, was your initial.

He read a book once, when he was snooping around Renjun’s room. Before he could even snooze off, he gets to a page where he read something intriguing.

How to know if you’ve finally found your greatest love;

And it was so strange, because every single one of them falls under you.

You, who Donghyuck still thinks of everyday.

You, who became his standard whenever Jeno introduces him to a friend.

You, who he correlates to every single sunflower he sees.

And you, who he loved so much even tho you’ve never been his to begin with.

Donghyuck was convinced you were his greatest love.

Given, he has nothing to compare you to because he has never loved somebody this much before, but he just knows.

So, on one fateful night of his drunken escapades, he got your initial tattooed on his ring finger. Something he could keep. Something that he owned.

And sure, it was a reckless decision made by a drunken man, but he never felt any hint of regret the day after.

“How corny,” He says under his breath as he watches a public engagement unfold literally in front of the bench he was sitting at.

He aggressively chomps at his bungeoppang before starting to wrap it the plastic up. He decides it’s better to eat it at his car rather than keep watching these corny couples be couple-y looking.

“Can I have one?”

Recoiling backwards, Donghyuck turns around to see who that voice belongs to. Even tho he had a hint.

What greets him first was the same set of eyes he longed for, then the lips that he dreamed of each night he went to bed. Everything else was a blur.

Mouth slightly agape, Donghyuck once again finds himself speechless in front of you. After everything that had happened, it’s kind of hilarious how he still has the same reactions whenever you’re in front of him.

After a quick inhalation of his breath, “U-uhm, I only have the ones that has red beans in it.”

He honestly don’t know what else to say.

“That’s good,” You say and lend your hands over. With trembling hands, he grabs you a piece and gave it to you. Without blinking, he watched you sit on the same bench he was sitting on before.

Despite your obvious invitation for him to sit with you, he stood there in shock. Is he starting to imagine things?

“Are you gonna leave?” You say when you notice him not moving.

He swiftly shakes his head in disagreement as he takes quick steps to sit beside you.

“Your friends are really something, y’know?” You started off.

Donghyuck had questions, but before he could even spew them out, you continued.

“Renjun calls me everyday, Jaemin bothers me in class and Jeno constantly tries to talk to me everytime he sees me. How much did you pay those bastards?” He knows, based on your tone that you were saying those lightly but Donghyuck hurriedly turns towards you.

“I swear I never asked them to bother you. I-I’m sorry, I didn’t know they were doing that, really–”

“They were saying the same damn thing, but I never believed them.” You say as you take a bite off of your bread. Not knowing how your words just re-open scars Donghyuck spent time healing.

“I’m so–”

“Because I want to hear it from you,”

For the second time this night, you left him speechless. With his rigid body posture and rapidly blinking eyes, his brain scattered thoughts he wanted to say to you.

“I was so ready to leave you and all these behind, you know. But everytime I try to look at other people, I just can’t help but to think of what would’ve happened if I gave you a chance to explain yourself?”

You continued, “Is it true that you called Lee Taeyong yourself to stop the rumours spreading? Is it also true that Hayeon lied about harming herself just to keep you? Is it you that reported Seungcheol to the police?” You listed all of the questions that he already has an answer to.

“All these questions, and none of them answered is the reason why I couldn’t just move on. There’s no clean slate if I still had baggage from the past, you know?”

Donghyuck feels like there’s a time ticking on him, like you’ll disappear any moment now. So he takes a deep breath before answering, “Yes, yes, and yes.”

“I’m gonna need more than that, you know?” You chuckled lightly, and he could’ve sworn it sounded like angels singing directly at his ears.

“I had connections to Taeyong-hyung and I begged him to scare off anybody who says a word about you, and I literally had to stand outside his door for hours on end just to talk to him,” He paused, because he knew he had to explain the other one more seriously. “And Hayeon did threaten me to hurt herself if I left, that’s why I couldn’t break up with her at that time. There was also a part of me that was dying of guilt, maybe that’s why I never questioned it. But the night I–” He squeezed his eyes shut, “--I down-spiralled because of d-drugs, I saw that she was faking it all along.. and that was the time I ended it with her. And yes, I did report that son of a bitch to the police.”

“After all that… you still didn’t come to find me?” You say, finally, looking at him straight in his eyes.

Just like the first time you two met, he still felt the same feeling of almost melting into putty everytime your eyes meet his. Every. single. time.

“I hurt you enough, I didn’t think I deserve you.” He says with nothing but the truth. He can’t afford to lie to you now.

“Did you regret it?”

Donghyuck nods his head. “I do, I really do. But would I do it again? Absolutely.”

“I think.. I think I’ve heard enough. B-but.. It’s gonna be hard to go back to what we were before.”

Donghyuck, with all of his strength, dared to touch your hand. Although it was cold, the spark he felt was enough to bring warmth.

“I don’t want to go back.” He says.

You furrowed your brows, “Uhm, oka–”

“I want to start over, I want to get you right, this time.” He says while it takes all of him to match your eyes.

“I want a fair shot, to a chance I never got before. I want to make you mine, but I hope you know that I’ve always been yours. Then, now, and forever.”

You smiled at him as you let a tear drop from your eye.

“Start over?” You ask.

Donghyuck nods again, this time as he smiled back at you. The first time in a long time, he smiled genuinely.

At you, the person that made him love his real name again.

At you, that turned him to a better man for himself.

At you, whom he’d never forget for the rest of his life.

And at you, who reminds him that after all, Lee Haechan, the heartbreaker, also has a heart.

He lets go of you hand and offers you a handshake.

“Hi, I’m Lee Donghyuck of NCU. Do you want to go on a date before Valentines day?”

He smiles goofily.

“Hi, Lee Donghyuck, I would absolutely love to.”

To be fair, Lee Donghyuck never claimed to be a good guy.

But for you? He’d die trying.

A/N: It’s finally finished! Aaah this series really tested me as an author. It’s amazing how a fanfiction can make you feel, moreso when you make one! A series at that! I realize that writing is a commitment, to both the readers and characters themselves. This was my first major project for myself— and although it took a looooong time, I am so glad that I finally finished it. One thing I can say tho, is that every story was straight out of my brain. I never rushed it, and I was never afraid to redo it all over again if I didn’t satisfy myself. That’s why it took a long time. Thank you all for supporting this series and please do support me by interacting with this post! And yep, you’ll be seeing more stories from me soon.

Again, Thank you so much for the support. Sincerely.

Na Jaemin, Lee Jeno, Huang Renjun and Lee Haechan from The Diary of the Heartbreakers now signing off.

© ryozakidesu, 2025

[omgfangirlland]

The Shadows That Nurture 14

ch 15 is done so y'all can have ch 14, these are getting longer and longer- If I somehow end up passing 4k words I'll have to break these into pt1 and pt2 🥲

Also- y'all can not rip Jason's finger tattoos saying "jailbird" from me, ever.

Masterlist || First || previous<< Chapter 14 >>next(TBC)

Your hands were shaking as Slade led you to one of the many bathrooms in the building, but despite everything, you were proud of yourself. You didn’t cry, that was good enough in your book. “You were fast with that throw. Not many get a hit on the man, as clumsy as he fakes being.” His voice only seemed to make you angrier.

You took a deep breath, exhaling softly. He hasn’t done anything to you, yet at least. You’re not angry at him- is what you had to repeat to yourself before answering. “I wish it was a knife.” Your face twitched at that. “That- was a very emotionally fueled answer- please don’t hold it against me.” Willson was more amused by the answer than scared or worried.

“You won’t be the first, and you won’t be the last.” The man took his handkerchief and dampened it, leaning against the marble sink as he handed it to you, and you thanked him while taking it. “I’ll hold you up to paying for the cleanup, by the way. I love this suit. Now- why did you really want to talk?”

“Straight to the point I see.” At his smile, you just shrug. “Never was one for pull and push games.” Perhaps it was your hormones, or just how much you’ve repressed your emotions for other human beings due to hurt, but his laugh made your cheeks flush. You were putting a pin on that feeling, for now just dismissing it as anger at the male species.

“I just want to talk, get to know you better.” He went to the modern toilet and took out its wall panel, pulling out a briefcase. “You’ve made quite the name for yourself. Among terrible people.” Slade opens the briefcase once it is on the marble top, revealing his gear and a clean pair of clothes. “So, you want to assassinate me?”

“Assassination is for world leaders, my dear.” The shit-eating grin definitely made you think whatever you were feeling was anger. “But you’re not far off. We have similar enemies.” You took the clean shirt he handed to you, took the wet wipes straight from the case, and went straight for the room divider, Slade turning his back to you. “So- what, you want me to help you and when push comes to shove, you’ll help me?” He could hear the doubt, the sarcasm, and the distrust. But he just smiled. “Yes.”

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

Luthor just kept on looking at you for a few seconds as you lay face down on his emperor-sized bed. “Is that his shirt?” He got a muffled yes in response. “He hid a briefcase in your wall and gave me the spare, said he’ll come back with the clean suit… I so think he wanted to kill you or steal something you have here.” Lex just hummed at that, tapping his foot. “And?” You groaned. “Where do I even begin?”

“Well, you could start from the beginning?” Lex said while getting up and grabbing a set of pajamas and tossing them on your back. You sigh and place your head on your hand, turning your body sideways so you can look at him. “I have parental issues and a part of me finds his stupid eye-patch so hot.” You cackled maniacally as Luthor’s face soured. “Ok. How about we skip forward a bit?” He almost begged.

“Alright- wait-…” You take a closer look at the pajamas. “These are my size.” Your eyes meet his as he confirms with no shame on his mug. “Are you not going to ask why?” Sighing you just get up and move towards his bathroom. “You either want a kid or a wife and I’m not mentally sound enough right now for either one. And I’m sleeping with mom- I so do not believe you didn’t put cameras in my room, you weirdo.”

“I’m a paranoid billionaire genius. I have cameras in every room.” It was his turn to laugh like a maniac as he heard you call him a weirdo again.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

With everyone out of the manor, it was finally time for Alfred to clean the whole bloody place. These moments were rare, and while Master Bruce insisted on him taking a break, he wasn’t a man to stay in one place for long without work.

He began from the ground up, the cave, the yard. The ground floor and the first level came and went, on the second level he may have gotten distracted by the new books Bruce got for Jason, and by the time the man of the house got back, Alfred was halfway done with the third floor.

Opening yet another door, his eyes immediately critiqued the dust, barely processing the objects before beginning to clean, starting with a little framed photo and the nightstand. It took him two looks before he registered what the picture depicted- a little girl at her kindergarten graduation event. He doesn’t remember Miss Cassandra this young, Master Bruce must have-

No… Cassandra never went to kindergarten. Alfred drops the cloth he was wiping off the dust with, head snapping around the room- Paintings, so many paintings,  drawing supplies. Medals, diplomas- the more of them he wiped with his gloved hand the more the man trembled, heart beating against his ribcage, the same way it did on the active battlefield- where were you?

A child- a whole child- no. He saw you- yes. In the garden, yelling at Bruce- that-… that was six years ago. Six years ago. Six bloody years ago. Somewhere in his panicked frenzy, a hopeful part of him just thought that maybe you changed rooms, yes, that’s why he began screaming your name like a madman, bursting through the rooms he hadn’t yet opened, screaming as he went down the staircase, rechecking rooms, scaring the kids that were in the manor.

Damian frowned at Cassandra and Tim. “Has Pennyworth lost it?” The girl didn’t even pay him any mind as she simply followed the elder. “No, he-… Where is she?” Tim tried to respond but the distraction got to him- he can’t remember the last time he saw you. Damian had no other choice but to follow as well.

Even though the old man used the stairs he was the first to enter the batcave, the kids following in the elevator. “-she’s missing-“ was what they caught, seeing the picture frame Alfred ran around with now clenched in Bruce’s hands.

“No.” Cassandra said softly, confusion clear on her face. “In London.” Alfred looked at the man as he tried to hide his fury. “You sent the young miss to London without even telling me?” Bruce immediately said a firm no, turning to Cassandra to ask how she even knew of that. “Is anyone going to inform me about who we are talking about?!”

Damian had enough, he didn’t like still being left in the dark about things that seemed this important. Tim repeated your name like it was obvious, but Alfred felt the world crash on his head. “Yes. So you all keep on saying, is that code for something?” The old man needed to sit down. They’ve never talked about her. They’ve never told him about her.

Tim was too tired to realize what Alfred did. He just called the boy rude, how could he not remember his other big sis. And it was the wrong thing to do. “I have another sister, and you didn’t tell me? Nobody did?!” The youngest boy snapped at his father before turning to look at everyone else.

Bruce- he was taking hit after hit tonight. He couldn’t come up with an argument to Slade, and he sure as hell couldn’t defend himself against Damian. The last time he remembered seeing you was when he ruined your garden. He slumped down in his chair, clutching the picture of your sad chubby face and the pitying look of the teacher, unable to take his eyes from it.

Where was he? He… He can’t defend himself. How could he? He didn’t even realize you were missing. How much has he missed? How many events and achievements has he ignored or brushed off? Did you leave that night, was that the last drop? He ignored his arguing kids, ignored how devastated Alfred looked… Jason said he was missing a bird. Bruce closes the open files on The Sorceress. “Tim, inform Dick and the others. Oracle. Call Red Hood. Now.”

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

Lois sighed and turned to face her husband who was fully awake. “Ok, come on, confess.” Clark didn’t even flinch, not until she shook his shoulder. He side-eyed her before turning to also face her, sure that Jon was deeply asleep. “What I’m about to tell you should stay just between us.”

“The Sorceress is adopted, her dad is Bruce.” Lois raised a brow but before she could ask for more Clark continued. “I heard her brother and Lex inform the Immortal about it. The boy mentioned that, and I quote, the bastard didn’t pay attention to her for years and now has the gall to show up and act like he doesn’t know her. Lex was sure of the fact that Bruce didn’t even know that she had run away, to begin with, let alone how the kid he barely spent time with looked like anymore”

Lois took a while to soak in the information. “That’s…” She lies back on her back, staring at the ceiling like her husband once was. “If it’s true- it’s a new low for him. I'll look into it.” She looks at Clark. “Don’t let Jon hear that, he’ll-“

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

“-and that’s what my dad said.” Jon, who was still in his pajamas, huffing from how fast he flew and talked, told Damian once they were in the security of the youngest Wayne’s room. The other boy just nodded. “Thank you for informing me, Jon. Make sure you do not repeat this to anyone else.”

“You should go back before your parents realize you’re missing.” Damian opened the window for the other teen. “Are you sure? Because if you’re not okay-“ Damian shook his head. “I’m perfectly fine, I’ll take care of this and give the information to someone who will be able to confirm what Superman heard."

The young super took a while before leaving, but the fear of his parents finding him gone was bigger. Damian on the other hand was already penning a letter. If the family kept such important information from him, he could too.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

Your day was- tiring. You may have overdone it a bit, studying for finals, the anxiety of giving your artwork in for the diploma, helping with clean up, training, helping Titan clean spaces for more housing- by the time you were done you were exhausted.

When the explosion went off, you didn’t even flinch, the text message from Mark saying “dnt wor abt it” was good enough for you. So, you just continued buying your little snacks and energy drinks for tomorrow and went on your way, floating as you simply couldn’t be bothered with walking.

If you were, perhaps, not as tired as you were, you would have been a little bit more concerned about the swarm of reporters or paparazzi, you couldn’t even try to figure it out. “Madame Sorceress! What is your relationship to Mr. Wayne?” and “Hey! Hey, over here! How do you know Bruce Wayne?!” and a lot of similar questions you couldn’t be bothered to answer. “Sorceress! Why do you have beef with Mr. Wayne?”

Now that stopped your movement. You slowly turned towards the person who asked, squinting at the redhead. “You want that in chronological or alphabetical order?” That seemed to trigger more questions and yelling, but your attention was on your ringing phone. “Sorry folk, I have to take this.” Sluggishly, you flew higher than they could be able to pick up with any listening device and answered. “Sup’ Red-“

Your brows furrowed. “Now they found out?... How much?” Jason just snorted. “B tried to interrogate me and when that didn’t work out, Alfred tried to tug at my emotions. Right under their nose and they’re still not seeing it.” You snort. “You’re creating yourself trouble. Just tell them, not like they can do anything now.” Jason knew, but this- the phone number, the texting, and silly pics, was something the other bats didn’t have access to. It was something only he had, that he didn't have to share with the others. He wants it to stay that way. “Nah, let them stew in it.” Jason snickered. “Whatever, Jailbird. Good night.” You roll your eyes, laughing when he yells that you weren’t supposed to know that.

Tag list: @bat1212 @trashlanternfish360 @shycreatorreview @syrooo @a-lurking-fae @alittletiredcry @kittzu @plsfckmedxddy @blackhood1229 @nxdxsworld @leeiasure @dandelion-delusion @lovebug-apple @sillysealsies @tsxukikami @enchantingarcadecreation @alishii @d3nnji @itsberrydreemurstuff @yuyuzi-ling @welpthisisboring @1abi @mxvoid26 @persephone-kore-law @bluevenus19 @ryuushou @asillysimp @aalunar @cxcilla @sirenetheblogger

A tiny little micro sneak peak of chapter 15 because I feel kind:

Jason was having a terrible week, starting with Ms. “I wouldn’t have been as forgiving if you didn’t die and came back kinder to me” Wayne- well- Grayson? He doesn’t know anymore- he’s close enough to just forging papers that say you’re his biological little sister just to fuck with Bruce.

[cuntwrap--supreme]

I took English 2 my first semester in college because I got a decent enough AP score to get out of English 1. We had to write a paper in which we analyzed some short story (can't remember what) and give our thoughts on it. Writing is my strong suit. I love it. It's fun. So I was shocked when I got the paper back and it was a 0%, with big red lettering on the top declaring I'd completely missed the point and shame on me, etc. So I'm livid, obviously, because no I didn't. And I'm sitting in a car shop for hours "correcting" my mistakes before I go, "You know what? I'm not doing this. I refuse to let this woman say I interpreted something the wrong way when it's open fucking ended and ambiguous on purpose!" So every place she'd said something like "syntax error" (when nothing was wrong), I'd mark out and write "no it isn't, you dumb bitch, read it again." Any time she wrote some condescending bullshit about "that's not what was being said here," I'd write the whole paragraph out and then, "how is what I said incorrect????" Very last page was relatively blank, so I wrote down something like, "You clearly didn't even read what I wrote and gave me a 0 for no reason. I don't know what I did to you to deserve this, but this essay would get an A- at best in literally any other class. I refuse to receive a 0 on this assignment, you stupid fucking bitch. Fuck you." "Fuck you" was written massively, for emphasis. This was my final, btw, and worth 50% of my grade. I already had a meeting with a counselor over it because I was not going down without a fight. The next day, I came in, slapped it on her desk, and left. I got a notification my grade had been adjusted that night. Updated to a 100%. This is when I learned that I don't have to just take shit. That fighting people when they're clearly wrong is worth it. I should have kicked her in the stomach, 300 style, too.

when i was a kid i got a 90% on my kindergarten "what are your favorite things?" test because for the question "what is your favorite animal?" i wrote down "puma" and it got marked wrong because my teacher said a puma isnt even an animal its a kind of shoe

[mrsfancyferrari]

24 Hours Without You

Summary: A dare from Lando led to Oscar not having any contact from you for 24 hours. Well he tried to.

Song: Love Drought · Beyoncé

Author’s note: Happy Valentines day to all couples and all singles (like me 🥲), either I hope you have a good day! Please like, reblog and share this! 🫶

Word count: 3.8k

MASTERLIST - F1

The lights of the McLaren production studio flickered with anticipation, the hum of laughter from the crew blending into the casual camaraderie surrounding Oscar Piastri and Lando Norris.

The two drivers, known not only for their prowess on the Formula 1 tracks but also for their undeniable charisma off of it, sat on plush bean bags before a camera.

Today’s content was light-hearted—an episode of "Truth or Dare," where playful banter was the currency of the moment.

In the midst of the gleeful chaos, Lando held up a hand, a glint of mischief in his eyes. “Truth or dare?” he shot at Oscar, who had his fingers nervously tapping on the surface of his knee.

Oscar, who had been bracing for this exact moment, hesitated. He’d opted for “truth” in virtually every previous round, hoping to avoid anything too embarrassing.

But the staff behind the camera were practically pleading with him to choose “dare”—for the sake of content, of course.

“Dare,” he finally relented, a playful smirk hiding the anxiety bubbling beneath the surface. He expected something innocuous, maybe a challenge to show off an embarrassing childhood photograph or to tweet an old picture of himself wearing an awkward haircut.

But Lando’s grin widened unnaturally as he clapped his hands together. “I dare you to spend 24 hours away from your girlfriend and document it to show the fans how needy you are for her!”

Oscar blinked. “Wait, what?” It was more of a stutter than a question.

Lando, brimming with enthusiasm, leaned into the camera with an exaggerated expression. “You heard me! No calls, no texts, and definitely no see-you-later kisses! We want to see how long it takes for you to break.”

Oscar felt his cheeks flush. This wasn’t just some off-the-cuff banter in the drivers' room. This was being filmed. This was going to be on YouTube. This was going to be everywhere.

He glanced around, hoping for a lifeline from even a vaguely sympathetic face from his engineer. He found none. They were all either strategically avoiding eye contact or subtly smirking.

"What if I say no?" Oscar asked, the words laced with a desperate hope that this whole thing was a joke, a prank that had gone too far.

He’d already planned on going to your house later that day for a quiet movie night and homemade pasta, a tradition they’d started a few years after they’d started dating.

The thought of not seeing you, not hearing your voice, for an unknown amount of time… it felt like a physical ache.

Lando’s grin widened, a predatory gleam in his eye. “Then you have to let me pass in the next 3 races if you're in the lead,” he said, the words dripping with smug confidence.

He knew Oscar was fiercely competitive. He knew this would sting.

Oscar groaned, running a hand through his already tousled hair. “Why are you so against me, mate?” He couldn't fathom Lando's sudden, intense interest in his love life, or rather, in trying to sabotage it.

"I just want to show the world how much of a simp you are," Lando replied, his tone teasing, but with an underlying edge that Oscar couldn’t quite decipher.

“Is this even allowed?” Oscar asked, appealing to the staff, hoping someone would intervene, would point out the absurdity of the situation. This had to be a breach of some sort of code of conduct, right?

"Of course, it is!" Lando declared, throwing his arms wide. "It's content! Think of the views!"

Oscar knew, deep down, that the team probably did see it as ‘content.’

In the cutthroat world of Formula 1, where every millisecond and every marketing opportunity mattered, this ridiculous challenge probably seemed like a stroke of genius.

He looked back at Lando, his friend's face alight with mischievous glee. He looked at the cameras, the expectant faces of the crew.

He looked at the faces of the team, already calculating potential audience engagement.

“Fine,” he said, the word feeling like a lead weight in his mouth. “But you owe me big time for this, Lando.”

Lando whooped, jumping off the toolbox and slapping Oscar on the back. “That’s the spirit! Challenge accepted! And don’t worry, the world will thank me for this entertainment!”

He ran a hand through his already messy hair, a familiar gesture when frustration gnawed at him. He fished his phone out of his pocket, the bright screen momentarily blinding in the dim light of the hallway.

There they were, a string of messages from you, each one a little more frantic than the last.

“Hey, everything okay? You’ve been quiet all day.”

“Oscar? You haven’t even seen my meme! It’s hilarious, you HAVE to see it.”

“Seriously, starting to worry. Call me when you get a chance.”

And finally, a more plaintive, “I miss you. Hope you’re okay.”

He cursed under his breath, a sharp, involuntary sound. Lando. It was always Lando. This stupid dare, this ridiculous game, had ripped a hole in his day, a hole that was shaped exactly like you.

He shoved the phone back into his pocket, the cool glass a constant reminder of the connection he was deliberately severing.

“See you guys,” he mumbled to the departing camera crew, offering a weak wave.

He then turned to Lando, delivered a playful, but firm, punch to his shoulder, and escaped to the sanctuary of his apartment.

He knew, logically, that it was just 24 hours. A single day. But the thought of willingly ignoring you felt like a betrayal, a small chink in the fortress of their relationship.

He cherished your texts, your calls, the small everyday interactions that stitched together the tapestry of their lives. Being without them, even for a fleeting moment, felt… wrong.

He threw himself onto the couch, intending to relax, maybe watch some mindless TV. But your voice echoed in his head, replaying snippets of conversations, silly jokes, and whispered sweet nothings.

He closed his eyes, trying to conjure your face, the way your eyes crinkled when you laughed, the soft curve of your smile. He needed to hear your voice, desperately.

He got up, restless, and paced the small apartment. He considered calling Lando, admitting defeat, throwing in the towel. But pride, that stubborn, annoying companion, held him back.

He’d made a commitment, however foolish, and he intended to see it through.

Sleep evaded him. He tossed and turned, the silence amplifying the absence of your goodnight text, your usual, comforting presence. He got up, made himself a cup of tea, and stared out the window at the twinkling city lights.

Each light, he imagined, represented a connection, a conversation, a life unfolding. And he was deliberately cutting himself off from one of the most important ones.

Finally, exhaustion claimed him, but it was a restless, fractured sleep, filled with snippets of dreams where he was chasing you through crowded streets, always just out of reach.

The next morning dawned gray and overcast, mirroring his mood. He dragged himself out of bed, the weight of fatigue heavy on his shoulders.

Today was qualifying, a crucial part of the race weekend, and he needed to be sharp, focused. This was not the condition that he wants to be in.

He arrived at the track, the buzz of activity usually energizing, today felt like a dull hum. He went through the motions, the familiar routines a small comfort in the unsettling void.

Lando found him in the McLaren garage, a mischievous grin plastered across his face. “Hey mate, have you given up yet?” he asked, slapping Oscar’s shoulder a little too hard.

Oscar winced, both from the physical blow and the reminder of the dare. “Nope,” he mumbled, the word devoid of any real conviction. He was tired, irritable, and more than anything, he missed you.

The thought of the next few hours stretching out before him, devoid of your presence, felt unbearable.

“Don’t worry, Osc,” Lando teased, oblivious to the genuine discomfort he was causing. “Just a few hours left. Think of the gloating rights!”

Oscar just glared at him, the playful banter lost on his weary mind. He wanted to tell Lando how much this stupid dare was affecting him, how much he relied on your support, your laughter, your simple, unwavering belief in him.

But he couldn’t bring himself to articulate it. It felt too vulnerable, too personal.

The day dragged on, each minute a tiny eternity. He went through the qualifying rounds, his performance adequate, but lacking the spark he usually possessed.

He could feel the absence of your encouragement, the subtle confidence boost he always got from knowing you were watching, cheering him on.

Between sessions, he retreated to his driver’s room, fighting the urge to reach for his phone. He scrolled through news articles, read through performance data, anything to distract himself from the aching void that was growing larger with each passing second.

Then, during the buildup to Q3, he was sat in the car and ready to go when his engineer, Tom, spoke over the radio. "Okay Oscar, you're up next, are you ready?"

Oscar gripped the wheel a little tighter, trying to focus on the task at hand. "Yeah I'm ready, is there any changes?"

Tom paused for moment and Oscar thought he hadn't head him. "No changes, but your girlfriend wanted me to pass on a message, she said good luck and she misses you, now go show them what you are capable of."

Oscar's heart skipped a beat. He didn't know you had talked to his engineer, but the small gesture warmed him from the inside.

It was exactly the kind of thing you would do, finding a way to break through his self-imposed barrier without directly contacting him.

The message worked. Oscar's spirits lifted and he felt a fresh surge of determination coursing through him.

He took off onto the track and delivered a blistering lap, securing a strong position on the starting grid.

He should be celebrating with the team, analysing telemetry, strategizing for tomorrow's race. But all he could think about was you. All because of Lando's stupid dare.

The qualifying result helped, but it didn't fill the void. After the debrief, he couldn't take it anymore. He muttered a quick goodbye to the team, ignoring their puzzled looks, and practically sprinted to his car.

He drove to your house, his hands clenched on the steering wheel, his heart pounding in his chest.

He parked the car, took a deep breath, and walked up to your front door. He had a key, a privilege he still cherished. He unlocked the door and let himself in.

“Hello?” he heard you say from inside, his footsteps louder than usual in the silence of the house.

He couldn’t speak. He stood frozen in the hallway, suddenly feeling ashamed and foolish.

How could he have ignored you because of a stupid dare?

He’d prioritized a silly game over your feelings, over his own need to be with you. The reality of his actions hit him like a punch to the gut.

You appeared in the doorway, your eyes widening in surprise. You were wearing an old t-shirt and sweatpants, your hair pulled back in a messy bun. He’d never seen you look more beautiful.

“Oscar? What are you doing here?” you asked, your voice a mixture of surprise and something he couldn’t quite decipher. He swallowed hard but found the words stuck somewhere deep in his throat.

“I…um…” He was fumbling, just like the first time he’d ever tried to ask you out. He felt like he was letting a ridiculous dare take precedence over something–over someone–he truly cared about.

"You weren't answering my messages, I thought I did something wrong," you said, your voice barely above a whisper. 

“No, no, you didn’t do anything wrong,” he blurted out, finally finding his voice. “It’s just… it was a stupid dare. From Lando. He dared me not to contact you for 24 hours.”

He cringed at the sound of his own explanation. It sounded pathetic, even to him.

He could practically see the disbelief forming in your eyes, the flicker of hurt morphing into something colder, something more distant.

He’d hoped to mitigate the damage, but he suspected he’d only made things worse. The dare, the explanation, the whole situation… it all felt utterly ridiculous and deeply, deeply wrong.

The silence descended again, thick and heavy with unspoken emotions. Then, you muttered, the words barely audible, “Am I just a dare to you?” The question hit him like a physical blow, a sharp, searing pain that ripped through his chest.

The accusation, even whispered, was devastating. It was the very antithesis of everything he felt, everything he wanted you to believe.

The thought that you could even consider him capable of such callousness was unbearable. He had to convince you, he had to erase any doubt that lingered in your mind, or he risked losing you forever.

“No!” It burst from him, a desperate plea laced with raw emotion, desperation threading his tone. "I love you more than that," he continued, his voice cracking with the intensity of his feelings.

He reached out, instinctively wanting to touch you, to reassure you, but hesitated, unsure if you'd welcome the gesture.

You paused, your gaze intense, scanning his face for any sign of deception. He met your eyes, unflinchingly, letting his own reflect the truth of his words.

He knew he had to be an open book, to let you see the regret, the love, the sheer desperation that consumed him. Time seemed to slow to a crawl as you scrutinized him, searching for any flicker of falsehood.

Each passing second felt like an eternity, the silence amplifying the pounding of his heart in his ears. Finally, after what felt like a lifetime, the tension in your shoulders eased slightly.

"Well then, why?" you asked, your voice softer now, but still tinged with hurt. The question hung in the air, demanding an explanation, a justification for his inexplicable actions.

It was a reasonable question, one he knew he deserved. But the truth was, he didn’t have a good answer.

He shuffled his feet, avoiding your gaze. The usually confident Oscar Piastri, the Formula 1 sensation, looked like a scolded puppy.

"I… I don't know why I agreed to it, but I knew I regretted it as soon as I said yes. I couldn't concentrate at all today or sleep without your voice. The only reason I didn't crash out of tiredness was because of your message that Tom gave me," he ranted, the words tumbling out in a rush.

He was scared. You could see it in the way his hands trembled slightly, the way his eyes darted around the room, anywhere but at you. This was the only real relationship he'd ever been in, the only one that felt… right.

He loved you, a dizzying, heart-wrenching, terrifying kind of love that had taken root ever since he saw you in that crowded lecture hall, your face illuminated by the glow of your laptop screen.

"I'm sorry, I'll make it up to you, I promise," he pleaded, his voice cracking slightly. He waited for you to speak, to yell, to do anything. But you didn't. He panicked more.

The silence stretched, thick and heavy. You could see the desperation etched on his face, the genuine remorse in his eyes. It was hard being mad at him, especially knowing how much he hated being apart from you.

Finally, you sighed, a weary sound that seemed to deflate him even further. You pushed aside your anger, the petty hurt that had been bubbling beneath the surface for the past day.

You knew how easily Lando could goad him into things, how Oscar, despite his steely determination on the track, could be surprisingly susceptible to peer pressure.

You moved forward, closing the distance between you. He flinched slightly, bracing himself for… what, you didn't know.

Instead, you went on your tiptoes, wrapping your arms around his neck, breathing in the familiar scent of his cologne – something uniquely Oscar.

You missed it, even though you were with him just two days ago.

Oscar froze, his breath catching in his throat. He gradually relaxed, melting into your embrace, his own arms wrapping tightly around your waist. He missed you too. More than you knew.

"You're lucky Lando told me about it and bribed me with pictures of you looking depressed to not get mad at you," you muttered into his shoulder, your voice muffled.

He chuckled weakly, a sound that vibrated against you. "He what?"

"He’s been sending me pictures all day," you said, pulling back slightly to look up at him. "Apparently, you kept staring at your phone with this forlorn expression. Lando said it was hilarious, but also that he felt bad for you."

Oscar groaned, burying his face in your hair. "I'm going to kill him."

"He did say he'd run if he saw you coming," you said with a small smile. "And, you know, it worked. I was going to give you the silent treatment for a week."

He pulled back, his eyes wide with mock horror. "A week? That’s cruel and unusual punishment!"

"You deserve it," you retorted, but the threat lacked teeth. "Now, tell me everything. How awful was it? Did you actually cry?"

He grinned, the familiar mischievous glint returning to his eyes. "I did not cry. I may have considered it, though."

You laughed, relieved that the tension had dissipated. "So, what exactly did Lando dare you to do?"

"He said I couldn't contact you in any way, shape, or form for twenty-four hours. No calls, no texts, no social media. Nothing," Oscar explained. "He said it would be a 'fun challenge' and that I needed to 'toughen up' or something ridiculous like that."

"And you agreed?" you asked, raising an eyebrow.

He grimaced. "I don't know what I was thinking. I think I wanted to prove I could do it, that I wasn't… overly reliant on you."

"And how did that work out for you?" you teased.

He sighed dramatically. "Terribly. Absolutely terribly. I spent the entire day pacing around, checking my phone every five minutes. I couldn't focus on anything. Even driving felt more dangerous than usual."

"That's because you were thinking about me," you said, a smug smile playing on your lips.

"Of course I was," he said, cupping your face in his hands. "You're all I ever think about."

You blushed, but your heart swelled at his words. "So, lesson learned?"

"Lesson learned," he confirmed, leaning in to kiss you. "I'm never agreeing to anything Lando says ever again."

The kiss was soft, tender, and filled with the unspoken relief of being together again. When you finally pulled away, you rested your forehead against his.

"You know," you said, a mischievous glint in your eyes. "Lando also dared me to ignore you for the next twenty-four hours. But he didn't bribe me with pictures of you looking miserable."

Oscar’s eyes widened. "You wouldn’t!"

You just smiled, a silent promise of playful revenge hanging in the air. He knew you wouldn’t actually follow through, not completely.

But the thought of it, the tiny seed of uncertainty, was enough to make him cling to you even tighter.

"Don’t you dare," he whispered, burying his face in your hair again. "Please. I can’t handle another day like today."

You laughed, a warm, happy sound that echoed through the room. He was an idiot, a lovable, racing-obsessed idiot, and you wouldn't trade him for the world.

"Okay, okay," you relented. "I'll spare you… this time. But you owe me big time. And you're buying me dinner. Somewhere expensive."

"Anything," he said, pulling back to look at you, his eyes filled with genuine affection. "Anything for you."

And you knew he meant it. The dare had been stupid, a momentary lapse in judgment fueled by Lando’s mischievous influence. But it had also served as a reminder, a stark glimpse of what life would be like without each other. And neither of you wanted to ever experience that again.

You were connected, intertwined, and the thought of being apart, even for a day, was unbearable.

He pulled you closer, his arms wrapped securely around you. The storm had passed, leaving behind a quiet calm. And in the comfort of his embrace, you knew that everything was going to be okay.

As long as you had each other, you could face anything. Even Lando’s ridiculous dares. . . .