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alessiasfreckles · 4 months

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she's mine (georgia stanway x reader)

inspired by she's mine by eva westphal / life with your adhd girlfriend, georgia

warnings: none

a/n: this is in no way me saying that georgia stanway has adhd (or that she takes medication)!!!!! but as someone with adhd, it wouldn't surprise me if she does. also the bit about pronouncing words differently is word for word what i said to my girlfriend that made her ask me to marry her so

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I love her the days she forgets to text back Her phone is on silent, sometimes I get mad

“I’m sorry,” Georgia says when she comes through the front door. She’s biting her lip and her thumb and finger rub together, the way they do when she’s anxious.

“It’s okay,” you say simply. You can’t help but feel mildly annoyed, but you know she didn’t do it on purpose, and you know that being mad at her isn’t going to help, it’ll just make her feel worse.

“I just- my phone was on in my bag, and I thought I’d walk home since the weather is so nice for once, and I was listening to music and kind of zoned out and my phone was on silent and-” she rambles, trying to explain herself.

“G, it’s okay, I promise,” you hug her gently, and her body sags against yours.

“You’re not mad?” she asks, and her voice sounds so small, so unsure.

“No, baby, I’m not mad,” you tell her. “I was worried, that’s all. Normally you’re home by 4, but you weren’t, and you know how I get worried. But I’m not mad.”

You feel her nod against your shoulder, still wrapped in your arms. She pulls away just enough to be able to look at you, your arms still resting on her shoulders, hers around your waist.

“I’m sorry for making you worry,” she says. “I’ll try to remember to message you next time, or at least put my phone on loud so I notice if you message me or try to call me.”

“Thank you, baby,” you tell her, kissing her sweetly. “That’s all I need.”

I love her the weeks she can't get out of bed I love every curl, every hair on her head

“What if I quit?” she asks one day. She’s been having ‘bad brain days’, as she calls them, a lot lately. Constantly flip-flopping between having no energy and wanting to stay in bed, and being so restless she could scream.

“Quit?” you ask, drawing circles on her back as she lays next to you in bed.

“Quit football,” she mumbles into the pillow. “What if I just quit football?”

She’s not really asking that, and you know it. She just feels trapped at the moment. Understimulated and overwhelmed at the same time. Her brain needs action, excitement, something to focus on.

“You don’t want to quit,” you tell her, kindly. “I mean, it’d be okay if you did, but I don’t think you do, really. Do you?”

“No,” she sighs, and rolls over on the bed, starfishing. One arm is draped over you, and the smooth underside of her wrist absentmindedly rubs against the crook of your elbow. “I guess not.”

You can see her brain running a million miles an hour. “Do you want to talk about it?” you ask.

She shrugs. “I don’t know how. There’s too many thoughts, I don’t know how to put them into words, or how to start.”

“You can just say words. I’ll piece it together,” you tell her, and she flashes a smile at you, grateful for how well you understand her.

She thinks for a minute, quiet, and you wait patiently, knowing not to push her. She’ll start talking when she’s ready.

“I just want my brain to chill the fuck out,” she says finally, and all you can do is nod and press a kiss to her forehead.

I love her the nights she complains that she's cold But I'm always warm, so I give her my coat

“I don’t understand!” she exclaims, shivering slightly. “Why does it feel so cold? It’s not like it doesn’t get this cold in England, if anything, it’s warmer here! We’re much further south!”

You slip your coat off. You’ve lived here much longer than she has, you’ve gotten used to the weather. Plus, like any good German (or person living in Germany), you understand the importance of layering, so you usually have enough layers on to keep you warm, even without a coat.

She blushes when you help her slip into your coat. Grabbing the collar, you pull her in for a kiss, and when you pull away, she’s smiling.

“You know,” you say, tilting your head slightly. “I’m starting to think you just like wearing my coats.”

“Hm,” she hums, leaning forward to kiss you again. “Maybe.”

Oh, I even love her when she's running late I'm always on time so I'll work while I wait

You’re sitting in a café when your phone vibrates. Before you check it, you already know that it’s a message from Georgia.

sorry i’ll be there soon i promise!!!

If you had to guess, you’d say it was going to be about 15 minutes before she got to the café. You didn’t mind. You went to the café every Wednesday afternoon. She’d meet you there after training, sometimes earlier, sometimes later. At first, it had annoyed you. You felt like she was saying you weren’t important enough for her to prioritise. After a while, you realised how hard she was trying, and that it really wasn’t her fault. Her time blindness made it hard for her to realise how much time had passed, a couple minutes easily turning into half an hour. She would set timers, alarms, reminders, but most of the time her brain would just block them out. You’d grown to enjoy the time alone before she arrived, planning for it, bringing a book or a podcast.

Ten minutes after you received the message, the bell above the café door tinkles as she comes flying in. She slides into her seat at your usual table, the one in the corner by the window so you can people-watch.

“I’m sorry I’m late!” she says quickly. Her face is flushed and her hair is windswept, still slightly damp from showering after training. She frowns, remembering something the two of you had talked about, about saying thank you, rather than apologising. “Wait, no. Thank you for waiting for me.”

“I’ll always wait for you,” you tell her, and she smiles.

She is funny and clever and kind She says whatever pops in her mind, oh And she's so fucking weird, that when she's with me I'm laughing most of the time And she's mine, she's mine

“Have you ever thought about how weird it is that we pronounce words the way we do?” she asks, and you blink at her, sleepily. She’s sat up in bed, looking wide awake.

“Babe, it’s 7:30 in the morning,” you say, eyes watering as you hold back a yawn.

“Good morning,” she says, kissing you. “Anyway. Have you ever thought about it?”

“Uh, not really,” you sit up, joining her, rubbing sleep out of your eyes. “How long have you been awake?”

“Mh, like, an hour? I woke up and couldn’t get back to sleep.”

“Oof, I’m sorry.”

She waves a hand and keeps talking, undeterred. “Like, imagine if we pronounced pineapple like Minneapolis. Pin-ee-a-pol-is. Or what if Dwayne was pronounced like Kanye. Dwan-ye. Actually, I guess that one doesn’t work. The ‘y’ is in the wrong place.” she says, frowning.

You burst out laughing.

“What?” she says.

“I love you,” you tell her, and kiss her until she can’t even remember how to pronounce her own name properly.

I love her when she forgets to plan ahead I love her when she repeats what she's just said

“Oh, did I tell you that I’m starting on Thursday?” Georgia says as she rummages through the drawer of her bedside table.

“That’s great, baby!” you say. She starts most games now, but you’re still filled with pride every time she walks out onto the pitch.

“Shit,” she says, frowning.

“What’s wrong?” you ask.

She holds up her medication bottle, upside down. “I forgot to order a refill.”

“Ah,” you say. You can see her initial frown of realisation turning into one of frustration. “It’s okay, baby. We’ll call and order a new one as soon as the doctor’s opens.”

She nods silently, still frowning.

“What are you thinking?” you ask, gently, and she shrugs.

“Feel stupid. This happens nearly every month,” she says, voice small and angry.

You hug her tightly, staying there until you feel her tense body start to relax against you.

“You’re not stupid,” you tell her, voice calm but serious. “You’re not. I promise.”

She huffs a little, sagging. “But I always do this.”

“That doesn’t make you stupid. It just means that your brain isn’t very good at remembering things like this,” you say, rubbing circles on her back.

She nods, frustration and anger quickly ebbing away. “Hey, did I tell you that I’m starting in the game on Thursday?” she asks, perking up, and you giggle.

Oh, I even love her when she's fast asleep I'll keep her warm when we're under the sheets

“Chilly,” she mumbles into your pyjama top as she spoons you, holding you tightly.

“You’re just using me for my warmth,” you tease, and you can feel her nodding against your back. You squeal when she puts her cold feet on the back of your legs, and her body shakes slightly as she laughs.

“You’re so nice and warm,” she sighs, wriggling to try and get closer to you.

“You know, you’d probably be warmer if you wore pyjamas,” you tell her, smiling, already knowing what she’s going to say.

“Gross,” she says. “I’ll feel all trapped and sweaty and suffocated. Ugh, and what if there’s itchy tags? No, thank you.”

“You know, you can cut the tags out,” you say, laughing.

She shakes her head against you. “No, thank you,” she repeats, voice thick with sleep.

You wake up during the night to pee, and when you crawl back into bed, you look at the sleeping form of your girlfriend. She’s curled in a ball, the duvet pulled tightly around her. As you wriggle under the covers and wrap an arm around her waist, her back against your front, she lets out a content sigh, leaning into your warmth.

She is funny and clever and kind, oh She says whatever pops in her mind, oh And she's so fucking weird, that when she's with me I'm laughing most of the time And she's mine, she's mine

“Oh, baby, are you crying?” you ask, looking over to Georgia, who’s sniffling, curled up in the corner of the sofa.

“No,” she says, looking at you with tears streaming down her face.

“Darling,” you say, holding an arm out so she can cuddle into your side. “It’s okay! It’ll all be okay!”

“B- but,” she sniffs, wiping a tear away. “He doesn’t know that! He’s just a little baby!”

She gestures to the TV, where Brother Bear is playing. Somehow, she’s never seen the film, and as it’s one of your favourites, you decided it was finally time for her to see it.

You look at her, fresh tears welling up in her eyes as she watches the little bear, and you can’t help but giggle, heart overflowing with love and adoration.

“Are you laughing at me?” she asks, but you can hear laughter in her voice, despite the tears.

“No,” you say, pressing your lips together firmly, body shaking as you try to contain it.

“You are!” she gasps dramatically, looking at you with wide eyes. “I can’t believe I’m crying and you’re just laughing at me!”

You poke the corners of her mouth, which are wiggling up and down as she tries to keep herself from laughing. She swats your hand away, but it’s too much and she can’t keep it in any longer. You both dissolve into a fit of giggles, and she has to wipe new tears away, but this time they’re from laughing so hard.

“See!” she says, in between laughter. “Now I’m crying again!”

She can’t keep a straight face, though, and neither can you.

When you’ve both finally calmed down, you can’t help but kiss her. “I love you,” you mumble into the kiss, and she smiles against your lips.

“I love you, too,” she replies, eyes sparkling brightly.

And I see her smoking a cigarette Dancing through fountains you almost fell in You're drinking red bull at night when I can't have my coffee past 12pm And I'm so fucking grateful for every bullet I dodged to get to you Yeah, I'm so thankful for every moment I've got with you

You’re walking through a park in Munich on a summer evening, enjoying the warm air, when you come across a playground. There’s a big rope pyramid in the middle, surprisingly tall, considering it’s supposedly made for children.

“Hey, babe,” Georgia says. “Bet you I can climb up that in 10 seconds.”

“10 seconds?” you ask, raising an eyebrow.

“Yeah!” she nods enthusiastically. “From the start to the top. Easy.”

“Hm,” Pretending to think about it, you squint at the pyramid. “What do I get if you don’t manage it?”

“A kiss.”

You roll your eyes. “I’ll get a kiss anyway.”

“Fine, I’ll put away the laundry tomorrow,” she says and you hum, not convinced. Her eyes brighten. “And I’ll do that thing you like in bed when we get home. You know, with the vibrator, and-”

“Okay, that’s enough,” you say, quickly looking around to make sure no one was nearby. “Fine. If you win, what do you get?”

“A kiss. And a massage when we get home,” she grins.

“Deal.”

“Can you time it on your phone?” she asks eagerly, bouncing up and down on her feet, and you laugh. “But don’t start it until I say go!”

“Okay, okay!” you chuckle, and she bounds towards the pyramid. She waits at the bottom, watching you, waiting for you to have your phone out.

“You ready?” she calls out, and you nod, giving her a thumbs up. “Okay, now!”

You start the timer as she scales the pyramid, reaching the top with 3 seconds to spare.

“7 seconds!” you yell up to her, and she lets out an excited whoop, pumping her fist into the air. She stands up briefly, then sits down on the rope again. You watch her look around, frowning. “You okay, baby?” you call.

“Yeah, I, um,” she says, running a hand through her hair, and says something so quietly that you can’t hear it.

“What?”

“I- I don’t know how to get down!” she yells, and you can see the blush on her cheeks from where you’re stood.

“What do you mean? Just climb down, like you climbed up,” you call.

“I can’t! It’s too high!”

You watch her frowning, arms folded across her chest, when you have a realisation. “Wait, baby, are you scared of heights?”

“Um,” she says, not looking at you. “Maybe?”

“Okay, hang on.”

You climb the pyramid, and when you reach the top, she clings onto your hand. Slowly, the two of you make your way down together, you telling her where to put her feet. When you’re on the ground, she looks at the ground sheepishly, cheeks still pink from embarrassment.

“I may have, um, gotten overexcited,” she admits, and you laugh.

“You? Overexcited? No, surely not!” you tease, and she rolls her eyes.

“Yeah, yeah,” she mutters, not meeting your eyes, and you take her hand and pull her close, kissing her until she forgets about the fact that she needed your help to climb down.

You are funny and clever and kind, oh You say whatever pops in your mind, oh And you're so fucking weird, that when you're with me I'm laughing most of the time And you're mine, you're mine Mine

#georgia stanway #georgia stanway x reader #woso #woso x reader #woso fanfics #woso imagine #georgia stanway fanfic #georgia stanway imagine #hannah writes fics

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okiedokrie · 1 month

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High Infidelity

Summary: There are many different ways that you could kill the one you love, the slowest way is never loving them enough. So what happens when you find someone who was all too willing to give you thee attention you craved, you said you'd only dip your toes into the idea, and yet, you find yourself already drowning. The novel you've been writing has been in progress for the better half of two years now, your writer's block beating you up, and your husband hasn't shown you any sympathy. Maybe a visit to the art exhibit from this new artist would jog your creativity, but what happens when this new artist offers you more than just relief from your writer's block?

Characters/Pairing(s): Xu Minghao (The8) x F!Reader

Genre: Smut, Angst, Fluff

AUs/Trope info: Non-idol!AU, Aged-Up!AU, Right Person (not) Too Late

Word Count: 10.6k

Warnings: Infidelity, very inappropriate conversations with a married woman, afab!reader, wears dresses, lmk if i miss something!! (Smut warnings under the cut)

Rating: 18+

A/N: banner and dividers by @daemour!! tysm!! This is also a rewrite/reupload of my own fic, "High Infidelity" on @pyeonghongrie, yes I reskinned my own fic.

A/N 2: Thanks to @nebulousbrainsoup, @kwanisms, @the-boy-meets-evil, @wooahaeproductions, and @gongiz for beta-reading!

Smut Warnings: tipsy sex (not drunk), vaginal sex, unprotected sex, creampie, nipple stimulation, masturbation, lmk if i missed anything!

The rain soaked into your skin—cold and icy—piercing you painfully. All your personal belongings were strewn all around you, and your soon-to-be ex-husband was angrily slamming the door shut, but you couldn't help but feel relieved.

After all, you were finally free.

"I'm right here, honey, I love you." He whispers into your skin, slowly unbuttoning your shirt, one button at a time. He kisses your skin every time new skin is revealed to both of you, he kisses your skin so delicately as if you'd break at the slightest touch-

"Y/N, you still haven't dealt with the dishes yet." Your husband, Haru, said monotonously just as you were starting to gain momentum in your writing.

You groan, the interruption making you lose focus and motivation to write. You stare at the last word on your document, gaze burning into each pixel as if hoping that this piece would write itself.

Unfortunately, life said, "Fuck you."

With another groan, you rub and pinch the bridge of your nose, a headache starting to settle in as your husband returns to work as if he didn't just cause you a serious inconvenience.

Standing from your comfortable computer chair, you take calm and even strides toward your kitchen, where only a handful of dishes are left in the sink.

And this little shit didn't even bother washing like, what? 8 dishes? He has to be kidding me, men.

You thought to yourself, your inner monologue only making you more irritated. But you wash them in silence, thinking of ways to calm down and clear your head so you have a clean slate to work with to get inspired again.

I think I should visit the gallery again, there's this new artist that I've been following. He's getting pretty popular, maybe I could draw inspiration from his work?

You think maybe this is the best idea you've had since you put bacon bits on mac & cheese.

Taking the time to visit this gorgeous gallery was the correct move.

Xu Minghao is a passionate man, you can see his dedication to his craft in all the pieces in this gallery. He was a mixed media artist, sometimes his work was pops of color on a canvas, others were sculptures made of clay, made with the most delicate of hands, and others were more niche, like the stained glass piece in another part of the gallery.

One thing about Minghao's work is that his subjects are also subjects of passion.

Paintings of a man's devotion to worshiping his lover's skin, a stained glass recreation of The Birth of Venus by Botticelli, and his latest masterpiece, simply titled "Passion", a sculpture of a woman in the throes of pleasure, with her lover holding her close to him, no gap between their skin, eternally locked in a passionate embrace.

As a romance writer, this is exactly what you need.

You take in this sculpture, the light of the gallery display emphasizing the delicate attention to detail this piece had, you know the man who made this takes pride in this, his work, skills, and dedication finally being realized.

You stare in awe at this piece for a little over 20 minutes, the more you look at it, the more entranced you become of the mastery of this craft.

You feel a presence beside you, a man around 5'11", slightly muscular build, in a turtleneck with glasses sitting delicately on his nose. He has a peculiar hairstyle, a mullet to be exact, and the most gorgeous face you've ever laid your eyes on.

"I see you like this piece in particular," He started, hands in his trouser pockets while smiling fondly at the piece, "'Passion' was a difficult piece for me to finish, ironically enough, I got bored of it quite easily." He continues, turning to face you.

"I'm Minghao, by the way, Xu Minghao. If you haven't already figured it out." He takes a hand out of his pocket, extending it towards you.

"Oh, I'm Y/N, Park Y/N. It's a pleasure to meet you, Minghao. Your exhibit is astounding, I love your dedication to your work." You take his hand to shake it,

He chuckles at the compliment, "Oh please, save your praise, I know that name from anywhere. I love your latest work, that book was what inspired this entire collection, to begin with."

You gawk at him, oh my god, he reads smut. My smut.

"Oh my, what an honor! I'm glad you also enjoy my work." You receive the compliment gracefully, "Although, I do want to hear more about why you got bored of this piece in particular, such a wonder to the arts community, surely you aren't downplaying your work?"

He smiles, perfect teeth on display, you swear you’ve never looked at a man like this in your life. You were down bad for his smile.

"I'm not saying I think it's bad, I just got bored of the creative process." He explains, "Although I do want to continue adding to this collection, perhaps we can go and get drinks together? Exchange ideas?" he offers.

You ponder on this for a bit. Going out to drinks with a budding friend wouldn't hurt, right?

"Could I give you my number? Let's set aside a day to chat. I have to get home to my husband before it gets too late."

A smirk came into his face, something dark about a seemingly insignificant change in his expression, “Of course, I look forward to our time together.”

The mug in your hands warmed your palms, and your focus was fixated on the man in front of you. He talked about another piece of his, titled “Longing”; it was heavily inspired by his desire to find someone who shares the same passion as him, the longing to hold someone in a way that nobody else could, intimacy in its purest form.

“It sounds a bit pathetic, I’m known for my work in the art of passion and, to put it simply, sex; but I haven’t been able to find the company of a lover myself. Perhaps that’s just the consequence of being a hopeless romantic. Then again, you wouldn’t know the feeling of being lonely, I assume.” He said calmly, a small chuckle ending his tangent.

“Oh I wouldn’t say that,” You look into the mug in your hands, your reflection swirling in the tea. Your face looks back at you, eyes sunken in and sad, “To put it nicely… my husband robs me of solitude, but fails to offer me company.” You shouldn’t be talking about Haru like this. Your husband works many hours, tirelessly providing you with the house and connections for you to pursue a career in writing. But that wasn’t the reason why your anxiety was swirling in your stomach.

Looking back up at Minghao, the same dark expression sits on his face, a minuscule smirk, barely there even if you squint, “Well, we’re friends now, aren’t we? I could keep you company.”

That. That was a quality of his that you noticed fairly early on. You can never read his true intentions, suggestive prose with just enough deniability to gracefully reject him without the conversation becoming inappropriate.

But your anxiety wasn’t caused by that, no, it was caused by the fact that you didn’t want to reject him.

“I’d like that, Maybe we could head to a bar and get drinks there too? My husband won’t be back for a few months because of a business trip in a few weeks. I could use the company.” You say, looking at him through your lashes; he knows his effect on you, and the mental gymnastics that both of you play over the table was just appropriate enough that to anyone listening, it’s just two friends agreeing to get drinks sometime in the future.

But to both of you, well, only the two of you know what’ll happen once the sun goes down.

“Of course, my schedule is free for the rest of the month. Be sure to think of me if you need company.” He offers you a soft smile, directly contrasting how intensely he’s making eye contact with you. The way he’s looking into your eyes makes you feel vulnerable like he’s directly using them as windows into your head. You’re half-convinced he could read your mind, if he could, he’s a master at hiding it.

You haven’t learned much about him, but from what you do know, you can never take his words at surface level, much less his actions. The way he’s leaning over the table, elbows on the surface, and his shoulders relaxed. His closing the distance, even if just by a hair, and the way his posture suggested the epitome of familiarity, shook you to your core.

His presence is almost suffocating, his dominance over your mind silencing whatever protest his suggestions may have created. You nod dumbly, “Of course, be warned though, I think of you a lot.” This causes his smile to relax into a smirk, the kind that could pass off as a smile if you don’t think too hard about it.

“I’m glad to hear that. I think about you a lot too.” He says picking up his cup of tea, “So much that a collection was born from the thought of you.” He takes a sip from the cup in his hands, eyes meeting yours over the rim of the cup, the way he holds eye contact with you always makes goosebumps litter your skin, the cup hiding the growing smirk on his face, silently enjoying his effect on you.

“Ah, speaking of the collection,” He started again, after setting the cup down, “Would you do me the honor of visiting my studio sometime? I’ll text you the address right now, you can come by at any time if you’re interested.” Taking his phone out from his pocket, feeling your phone vibrate in your pocket, you pick it up. The small device, usually light, feels like a heavy weight on your palm.

Opening your messages, you see that Minghao already sent the address, a building about 20 minutes from the cafe you’re in right now. “Lovely, could I trouble you to pick me up when I decide to visit?” You ask,

“Of course,” He replies, a gentle smile stretches across his face, “I’d love nothing more than to see you more often.”

The first time you entered Minghao’s studio, it felt like a dream. The studio wasn’t small by any means, the place was neat, neater than what you imagined any artist studio would look like. “Make yourself at home, I’ll brew some tea for us,” Minghao said as he took both your coats. Hanging the heavy fabrics on his coat rack, he gently guides you to the couches with a hand on your back, the light touch helping to ground you in this new environment.

He shoots you a quick smile before turning his back to you, setting his electric kettle to boil the water at the perfect temperature for tea. He rummages through his extensive tea set collection, settling on a simple white ceramic set with wooden handles. His eyes meet yours briefly, taking note of how you watch his every movement with care and curiosity, the way you were fascinated with the way his hand veins jumped every time he set a piece of the tea set down.

The kettle finishes boiling, he finally sets it down next to the tea set. “I want to introduce you to this teacake that my friend from home sent me,” He pulls out a teacake about the size of his head from the drawer under the table, wrapped in a slightly stained paper. He carefully unwraps it to show you the rich brown of the aged tea leaves, “This is a 15-year-old aged pu’er, I haven’t had the chance to try it yet, so I’d like to try this with you.”

“What an honor, I read from a recent interview that you were waiting for a good day to taste that right?” You ask, trying to gauge his reaction, if he’s surprised, he doesn’t show it,

“Of course, making a new friend is a special occasion, isn’t it? I’d consider that a good day.” He replies cooly, taking a tea knife and carving out a piece of tea to steep for a second, you watch as he delicately handles the porcelain set, the control in his movements reminding you of his mastery in sculpting, “You know, making tea is much like cultivating a new relationship,” he starts as he stands up to take the kettle off the stand.

“You carefully carve out your leaves, boil your water to the perfect temperature to bloom them, and steep the leaves a few seconds at a time.” You see him pour the water over the tea leaves, dried blades blooming like flowers under the delicate stream. “Each steep of tea is different, starting from the bloom until the flavor develops; and only then will you appreciate the true complexities of what tea has to offer.”

A small smile grows on your face as you watch him pour the first bloom onto his tea pets, “If my assessment is correct, you’re trying to correlate the developing flavors of tea with how our relationship is progressing?” He nods, confirming your hypothesis, “Then, I’ll ask you a question, which steep are we on?” you say with a cheeky smile.

Minhao grins at this, eyes almost disappearing with how wide his smile was, “Literally? The second steep.” He says as he pours more water over the leaves, you let out a chuckle at his little joke, “Figuratively? The fifth.”

You tilt your head a bit, “The fifth? I didn’t realize we were already at that stage.” you say as you accept his offer of a teacup.

He chuckles, “Well, I don’t just share my most expensive teas with anyone, so I might as well share it with one of the most brilliant minds I know.” he said while bringing the cup to his lips, sipping the drink carefully while making eye contact with you over the rim, winking playfully.

You raise your cup as well, the rising steam not being the only reason for your flushed face, you grin against the rim of your cup, savoring the rich and deep aroma of the high-quality tea.

After a while of banter and small talk, you finish your tea, setting down your cup gently on his expensive-feeling coffee table, he stands from his seat, “Could I show you something?” he said, holding his hand out to you. You place your palm on his, the warmth from his hand seeping into your skin. The touch was negligible, simple, even, but the contact with his skin sent electricity through you, like a violent jolt of excitement.

Minghao notices this and smirks, feeling pride swell up in his chest as he pulls you up from the couch, leading you to the other side of the room with a hand on the small of your back. He finally stops in front of a large canvas, laid across what looks like a bare-bones bed frame. You turn to him, curiosity growing on the expression of your face.

“What’s this? This looks fairly new, the paint on the frame still seems wet.” You ask, eyes raking over the splotches of color seemingly placed without much thought or care, it looked like the aftermath of a messy and angry paint spill.

“It is new,” Minghao starts, “I’m trying a new technique where I release frustrations by getting whatever paint catches my eye and throwing cups of it without much thought.” He shrugs, nothing particularly of note, but you do notice the amount of emotion that is in the piece.

“It’s not an elegant piece, but for a collection centered around passion I find it missing raw emotion.” He runs his hand through his face, frustration taking over his features, something you noticed early on was his emotions were closely tied to whatever art was around him, it seems as though the frustration in this one was affecting him at this moment.

“Yes, the human form and sex are great subjects, but pure, raw emotion is hard to capture.” He mumbled, eyebrows furrowing. “So, that’s why I invited you here. Tell me, as someone who’s written longing, despair, and everything in between. How does this make you feel?”

You pause and take in his words, turning back to the canvas and trying to soak in the colors, the shapes, and the emotion behind this piece. Yes, frustration is here. Yes, anger is here. But how does it make you feel?

“It makes me feel like I’m missing out on something.” You say simply, your stomach sinking just thinking about what that might entail. Minghao has a genuine look of shock for the first time since you’ve met him. His head tilted to give his attention to you fully.

“Really? Interesting. That’s the first time I heard that about this piece specifically.” He said with a lopsided grin, seemingly getting a new stroke of genius with your answer. He looks back at the canvas too, shoulders shaking from his restricted laughs. Your answer seemed to entertain him a lot. That much you can figure out, but you can never be sure what goes on in the mind of Xu Minghao.

Just then, your phone starts to ring, you only know one person who would call you at this hour—your Husband. You watch as the expression on Minghao’s face falls, face contorting into something short of a scowl for a split second before settling on his usual cool neutral expression. It was so quick that you barely missed the change, it happened so quickly that you decided it was all in your imagination as you ran to answer the phone.

You pick up the phone, “Hi honey-” You were cut off by your husband speaking,

“Get home, it’s getting late and you haven’t started dinner yet.” He said simply, before promptly dropping the call.

You stand there, the line going dead as you try to hold back tears. You take a deep breath, too afraid to show your face to Minghao in case tears were about to fall from your face. Grabbing your coat, you turn to face the door.

“Thank you for inviting me over, I have to get home now,” you said, your voice a little shaky, as you roughly opened the door.

You were out of his sight as Minghao stood alone in his studio, pondering. As silence took over the space, a dark smirk on his face.

'How long before you break?' he wonders.

The next time you and Minghao meet, you’re sitting on a park bench watching the autumn leaves dance to the silent song in the wind. You’re pulled out of your thoughts when you hear leaves crunch beside you, seeing the tail of Minghao’s long coat swaying in the wind.

He sees you, a smile spreading across his face, his long hair almost covering his face. His fast-paced walking makes the leaves crunch under his weight rhythmically. You think that he looks beautiful under the soft brightness of the autumn morning, only ever seeing him in the harsh rays of high noon or the constant humming of fluorescent lights.

You feel the heat radiating off his body through your and his coats as he sits next to you on the park bench. “Beautiful morning, the view is exquisite.” He says, looking directly at you. You giggle at this, he’s always been such a charmer ever since you met him. You peel the notebook from your lap, “I’m no artist, but the park is too gorgeous this time of year to not at least try to capture on paper.” you say as you open it to show him a relatively crude sketch of the scenery.

“Oh? This feels like a threat to my career.” He says with a chuckle, “But, genuinely, this is an amazing sketch. Are you sure you aren’t an artist?” You think you could get used to how relaxed you were around Minghao, conversations with him flowed so easily, it reminds you of the times your husband used to be invested in you as a person. Perhaps it was easier to compare the thrill of meeting a new person with feeling the start of a romantic spark, it was a dangerous game to play with him.

“No, I’m not, but I can appreciate a masterpiece when I see one.” You say, this time looking at him. He notices this and laughs at the fact that his joke is being used against him. He closes the notebook, handing it to you to put in your tote bag.

“The weather is perfect for a walk, care to join me?” He said, offering his hand for you to take. You accept the offer, the warmth of his palm being something to ground you on such a dreamy morning. Leaves crunch under both your weights in synch, your hand moves from his to hold onto his arm, and you try not to notice the lean muscle of it or the steady and secure way he guides you through the path.

You breathe in the autumn chill, enjoying the comfortable silence that followed the quiet whistle of the wind. “Your book,” Minghao said, his silky voice cutting through the silence effortlessly, “The one that inspired the collection, I’ve been following your publisher’s updates on the series, and I was wondering if you'd be able to share your progress on the second book?”

“Ah, about that.” You grimace, and you shake your head, quelling the urge to complain about your husband’s lack of sympathy for your predicament. “Maybe I’ll tell you another time, it’s not something I can talk about at the moment.”

Before you can correct the old man, Minghao speaks up, “Of course, could I take three of these?” He said, pointing at the basket of Jonquils.

He hums, luckily, Minghao was never the type to pry, “I get it, ever the tortured poet you are.” he said in a joking tone, you let out a chortle at this, agreeing that you may or may not be one.

Both of you are stopped by a flower vendor, “You both are a lovely pair,” The old man starts, as he turns to Minghao, he asks, “Could I interest you in some flowers? I’m sure your lady would appreciate them.” He smiles.

“Of course, you’re in luck too, these are the last off-season flowers I had in my greenhouse.” the old man said as his nimble fingers wrapped the flowers in some yellow tissue paper.

“I'm really lucky indeed.” He agreed while looking at you, your cheeks warming up at the implication. Minghao accepts the flowers and happily pays for them, gracefully handing the bundle to you.

Holding onto the stems, your fingertips graze over the delicate petals of the bright yellow flowers. “Thank you Minghao, they're beautiful.”

He smiles at the way you look at the flowers fondly, simply adoring the way your face lit up; literally, the yellow from the flowers reflected off your face and gave it a yellow hue.

“Shall we continue to walk?” He asks, offering his arm for you to hold again, you hold onto it, the flowers in your other hand. And you let the silence take over again.

Before you knew it, you've spent the entire day laughing and talking with Minghao, only stopping at several vendors for food and other trinkets, feeding the ducks berries, and watching the fish in the pond.

But the day has to end at some point.

You regretfully leave Minghao at the train station, waving goodbye through the glass of the train doors as you watch his figure get smaller and smaller.

Arriving home, you try to find a vase to put your flowers in, setting it down on the kitchen counter, your husband walks in and sees them.

“They're ugly, don't put them anywhere where I could see them.”

He said coldly, you try your best not to scoff at him, still searching for a vacant vase.

Finally finding one, you decide to place the flower vase on the windowsill of your office, the bright flowers contrasting everything else in the room, the dark and neutral furniture your husband got for you.

You jolt, realizing you're comparing your husband to another man.

You expected guilt to eat you up at the realization, but really, you couldn't find a reason to keep defending Haru.

“Could you come over to the studio later tonight? I don't think I should be alone.”

This text from Minghao worried you a bit, you've been spending a lot of time with him recently, you met him 6 more times after he got you flowers at the park, and you never noticed that he could deal with something so sinister.

Of course, you agree to come, your closest confidant in your adult life needs you right now. You wait for your husband to fall asleep in his office, again, before you leave the house, walking to the end of the block before calling a cab.

Arriving at his studio, you already knew the code, punching in the numbers 150526 on the smart lock, the studio opens with a click.

You take cautious steps into the studio, seeing the silhouette of a man on the couch, his back towards the door, nursing what you assume is a wine glass in his hand.

He turns his head to face the door, “You came.” He said, with relief in his voice, a little slurred from the alcohol you assume.

“You called.” You replied. Shrugging off your coat to hang, you join him on the couch. He looked a lot more disheveled compared to the usual clean and put-together Minghao that you know.

His hair is slicked back, some pieces of hair falling onto his face, his tie loosened, his shirt unbuttoned to reveal his collarbones and the sleeves rolled up to his elbows. And glasses resting lowly on his nose.

You look at his face, and you notice dark circles around his eyes.

“Drink, and stay with me. Please.” He asks, no, almost begs you. You don't have the heart to decline. He pours you your glass and you both toast your glasses together.

You take the normal sip and he downs the rest of his, taking in a deep breath as if to steady himself. “Y/N, there's something I need to tell you.”

Your stomach drops at this, anxiety filling the pit of it as you nervously wait for the rest of what he has to say.

“I think I'm in love with-” he pauses, “someone I shouldn't be in love with.” He finishes, leaning forward to pour himself another glass of wine.

Your face falls only slightly, a minuscule change in expression that neither you nor Minghao catch. You cross your hands over your lap as soon as you realize your silence.

“Why can't you be in love with them?” You ask. Your head tilts as you take another sip of your wine. He hums, a smile graces his lips, but it doesn't seem to reach his eyes.

“They refuse to be vulnerable with me, opening up throughout our time together then closing back in the next time I see them.” He says with some fondness, “Also, they're married to someone else.”

“You probably should've led with that.” You mumble lowly, “I see, I know that all too well, wanting someone you can't have, someone so close yet so far. It's suffocating, especially when you haven't felt like yourself in so long, and then this person comes around and gives color back to your sad, gray, life. It's cruel, actually.”

You realize you've been rambling, turning to meet Minghao's eyes, you notice an emotion swirling behind them, something bittersweet, a realization that may change the course of your relationship.

“Anyway, how did you end up falling for them in the first place?” You ask in an attempt to bring the conversation back to him,

“Well, at first it was just a cure for boredom, I saw how receptive they were to my advances and I thought their marriage served as a fun, harmless challenge for me. But I got to know them, spend time with them, I got to witness the color come back into their face and I couldn't help but find it beautiful. That fact that I did that, bring color back into their face, slowly becoming someone again. The moment I saw their face light up with a simple gift I knew I was down, down bad.”

You hum, thinking the person Minghao was talking about is one of the luckiest people in the world right now. To be loved by him was like witnessing Orpheus’ choiceless grief that drove him to save his lover from the underworld, it was like feeling the devotee's dread-filled need to turn around, it was like experiencing the immediate forgiveness of Eurydice.

You wanted to be loved by him.

You both continue to chat and drink, and it isn't long before the two of you finish your second bottle of wine, Minghao offers to pay for your cab home, and he decides he's going to sleep in his studio.

You reflect on the events of that night as you slip into the cold covers of your marital bed, your husband’s side tidy as it was for the past month.

You run your hand over the pristine and cold sheet, imagining someone else filling its space on your bed, as he does your heart.

Minghao added a new piece to his collection, his gallery is still a work in progress and you walk through familiar doors. The very same statue you were entranced by still sits by the entrance, and you see a very familiar figure standing in front of it.

“I feel like this already happened before.” You said cheekily, he snorts at this, handing you a paper bag with tissue paper peeking from the top.

“Maybe this happened before in a dream, maybe we were destined to meet under the judgemental fluorescent lights.” He jokes as you feel the weight of the bag on your fingers.

“What's in the bag, Hao?” You ask cautiously, mischief flashing on his face before he fully turns his body to you, giving you his full attention.

“It's something you might like, maybe.” He said, his confidence faltering toward the end of his sentence. Tucking his hands into his trouser pockets, he eagerly waits for you to open the semi-heavy bag.

You carefully move the paper to the side of the bag, seeing white porcelain peaking back at you, you whip your head with with your face showing an expression of surprise. Minghao smiles, enjoying your reaction to his gift.

“You got me a tea set? That's so thoughtful, thank you.” You say with a smile, inspecting the frog patterns in the glaze.

“You mentioned your husband is leaving for a business trip soon, so I figured you'd like a set so we can have tea at your place. I'll even bring you a teacake to keep.” He said as he pulled a hand out of his trousers, fixing a stray hair that fell from your up-do.

“It's perfect, thank you.” You said, looking up at him, a smile still on your face.

“Do you want to walk around the gallery with me? I added a few pieces since then, and I'd like to talk about them.” he said, offering his arm. You wrap another hand around him, the familiarity of his arm under your palm giving you a sense of calm.

You spent the rest of the day walking around the gallery and chatting, other gallery-goers openly gawked at Minghao. It was obvious, really, the artist is here in the flesh, and he's gorgeous.

Minghao stopped to entertain other guests too, seeing him in his element made pride swell in your chest. His work, and by extension him, is finally being recognized by more people in the community. His hard work and dedication paid off handsomely.

Stopping in front of a mural, you noticed it was a replica of a really old painting. A painting of Ares and Aphrodite getting caught by Hephestus.

“Oof, poor bastards.” You joke, Minghao found this funny too, chuckling with you.

“It’s almost comical how this painting compelled me. I don't know what drove me to recreate the thing as a whole mural, but we both know I'm a little crazy.” He says with a playful groan, you try to hold back a loud laugh by giggling into your palm.

“Well, dear Xu Minghao, everyone knows crazy people are geniuses.” squeezing his arm, you check out the side of his face. His side profile was so sharp and soft at the same time, the dichotomy of his features was an easy subject to study. He's a gorgeous man, too gorgeous for his own good you think.

You both sat down on the bench in front of the mural to chat, and before you knew it, enough time has passed that the gallery was about to close.

Minghao calls a cab for you, and you arrive home in-tact, but not safe.

“Y/n, where have you been running off to these past few weeks?” Your husband questioned you as soon as you entered your home. Your mood instantly dropped, feeling the weight of your actions all at once.

“I'm hanging out with a friend, and it's really not that deep. It's not like I've neglected house work at all. So you should have a reason to care.” You snap back, a little too much for such a simple query. Your husband rises from his seat, cupping your face with a gentle hand for the first time in a long time.

“You’re my wife, of course it's my concern.” He said, just as he was about to make you fall for him again, he said, “We haven't been intimate in a long time, I'm leaving in a few days, so I want to make love to you before I go.”

Ah, there it was. He only ever shows affection for you when he's asking for sex nowadays.

You nod, what followed was unfulfilling and unsatisfying sex. Missionary, a few pumps just to get him off, and he didn't even kiss you.

And obviously, he didn't make you cum.

Your husband is fast asleep in your bed for the first time in months, and yet you can't find it in yourself to be happy about it.

You take out your trusty friend, egg.

The jolts to life with steady vibrations as you press the toy to your clit, relaxing into the sheets as you imagine a pair of calloused hands roaming the plane of your skin.

Controlled pressure and technique only a sculptor could have, his hair falling over his face, and his eyes holding you gaze as if you gave him everything he could ever want by simply existing.

He looks at you like you hung each star in the sky just for him, just so he could watch your skin bathed in moonlight, twinkling like the most precious diamond he could ever have.

This man isn't your husband, It was Minghao.

Your orgasm came unexpectedly, the realization that you were fantasizing about him snapped you back into reality so violently that you ruined your own orgasm.

You huff as you tuck the toy back into its drawer, pulling up the covers to try and sleep off the guilt.

Your husband left for his business trip a few days ago, and you made preparations for your first guest in a while. You finally set up the tea set when you heard a knock at your door, springing up, you head towards the door to look through the peephole, you see Minghao dressed a little more casually, a cap on his head and a bouquet of flowers in his hand.

You swiftly unlock the door for him, he smiles upon seeing you, tipping his cap, he says, “Good evening, it's a pleasure to finally be invited into your home.” You greet him back, stepping to the side to let him enter. As he does, he takes his cap off to let his hair fall onto his face again.

He offers you the flowers and you take them, “I'll go find a vase for these, make yourself at home, dinner is still cooking in the oven.” You said as you turned back to find another vase.

After finding one and setting the flowers in your office again, you find Minghao setting a record on your turntable, a slow tune plays through the air, instantly making the room feel calmer and homey.

“I didn't pin you as the type to have such an extensive vinyl collection, you have good taste too.” He said, swaying to the music by shifting his weight from one leg to another.

“I didn't feel the need to mention it considering I haven't touched those in a while. My husband hates them.” You say solemnly.

“Well, he isn't here now. Let's enjoy the music,” he said, holding his hand out for you to take, “Dance with me?”

You smile as you take his hand, he suddenly pulls you towards him and you land on his chest, his arms wrapping around you securely as you sway to the calm of the music.

You think to yourself, This is nice, this is safe. I wonder if this is what it feels like to be married to Minghao instead.

You turn your head and press your ear to his chest, hear him breathe slowly, his heart beating rhythmically. This is the first time you were ever this close to him, practically holding him in a loving embrace.

His woody cologne almost distracts you, so seductive and masculine and you almost reach up to cup his face, to kiss him. Before you realize that he isn't your husband.

You're both snapped out of your little bubble when the oven dings, signaling that dinner is ready. You break away from him, already missing his warmth as you set the dining table, one that hasn't been used in a while.

You eat dinner with him, talking about your days and how work has been. It's a welcome change of pace from your husband’s tolerance of your presence. You didn't have to beg Minghao for footnotes on his life, you didn't feel like you're taking up too much of his space or time.

It's safe, secure. It feels like you're being celebrated for existing.

You dwell on this feeling long after Minghao heads home, your stomach and heart full. As you slip into the covers you wonder what it'll feel like to hold him under them, for him to kiss the crown of your head and whisper the three words you desperately wanted to hear again.

You fall asleep with the fantasy that when you wake up, he'll be right next to you.

Minghao invited you downtown this time, various pop-up stores of luxury brands recently opened and he just secured a sale of a really expensive painting; so of course, what better way to spend that money than taking a shopping trip with his closest friend.

“This would look amazing on you.” He said while taking out a dress, it's a color that compliments your hair and skin wonderfully. Minghao always knew how to dress.

“Oh, I'm inclined to agree, but I'm not willing to look at the price tag for that one.” You joke, shrugging as you follow him around the store.

“Nonsense, I'm offering to pay.” He said, turning his nose up. “I'm getting this for you, I'll ask the salesperson for more sizes so you can try them on.” He said, turning to the salesperson doing just that.

The salesperson nods enthusiastically, bringing the dresses to the dressing rooms and ushering you in despite your protests. Minghao only smiles in amusement as the curtain hides your figure, he sits on the bench near the dressing rooms in silence, scrolling through Instagram on his phone.

He hears the curtains roll open, it only takes a moment of him looking at you in the dress to take his breath away. It fits you perfectly, hugging your body deliciously. Minghao almost drops his phone onto his lap, his grip loosening, star-struck by your beauty.

“How does it look?” You ask, awkwardly fiddling with the expensive fabric of the dress, feeling a little too expensive to be on your body.

Minghao wordlessly stands from the bench, looking a little dazed, he turns to the salesperson and tells them, “We're getting the dress.” As he walks toward the cashier almost in a trance.

You're a little taken aback by his reaction, but nonetheless you change back into your regular clothes. As soon as you walk out of the dressing room Minghao Pushes you back in with more dresses.

“Please try these on.” He says, not having the strength to look you in the eyes. You comply.

It took you hours of trying on dresses and accessories to the point that you almost bought the store out. Minghao couldn't get enough of the mini-fashion show you were putting on for him, and it's not like the salespeople are complaining either.

You walk out of the first store with multiple bags in hand, you thought that was enough shopping for the whole year maybe, but no, Minghao pulls you into another store, and another, and another, all leaving with bags (multiple) of clothes.

It got so bad to the point that Minghao had to leave your bags in his car so you could free up your hands to buy more stuff.

You stopped trying to fathom the amount of money Minghao was spending on you, yes, he did buy items for himself too, but he looked much more satisfied to provide for you rather than procuring items for himself.

The car ride back home was filled with way too many ‘are you sure's and ‘you really didn't have to's. But Minghao was insistent on you keeping all the items he got for you.

“I'm being serious, you're a gorgeous woman, you deserve to be spoiled like a queen.” he said, turning to you while waiting at a red light, “You need to visit my studio in the clothes I got you, you'll fit right in with my paintings.” He smiles.

Your face flushes at his compliments, a bright and happy smile stretching across your face. You couldn't remember the last time you were this happy with someone. To find joy in the company of another felt liberating, you felt like you deserved this.

Minghao drops you off at your place with your new clothes, helping you get them into your living room like a true gentleman.

“I'll see you next time, Y/n.” He said stopping at your doorstep, annd leaning down to press a kiss on the crown of your head, he took note of what your shampoo smelled like and left. Leaving you awestruck in your doorway as you watch his car drive off.

This studio has become so familiar to you, like a second home almost. Punching in the code was muscle memory at this point, the smell of drying paint and clay becoming a calming scent.

You smooth over the front of your dress, one that Minghao got you, as you enter his studio again. Shrugging off your heavier coat, the beginning of winter creeps closer as the trees lose the last of their leaves.

Minghao just got out of the bathroom, wiping his hands on his paint-stained shirt and apron. He looks at you, the dress, the way it fits on you. And he smiles widely.

“Hey there gorgeous, what are you doing all the way there? You should be over there with the rest of the art.” He says cheekily.

You giggle as you enter the space more, stopping in front of him taking his extended hand and following it, giving him a twirl.

He simply adores the way the fabric flows and shapes around your curves and contours, your skin practically glowing with life.

He fights the urge to kiss you, succeeding for now.

He guides you onto the couch, a turntable sitting next to his stone tea tray on the coffee table. ”Oh? This is new.” You said when you noticed it.

“Oh that? I got it for when you come over. I got a few records too, if you'd like to make yourself comfortable while I brew us some tea.” He said, untying his apron to hang on an easel, turning his back to you and he started preparing tea like before.

His movements and practiced, you'd guess this tea ceremony is second nature to him, considering he always talks about it. This scene is safe, familiar, it's comfortable.

He does this whole song and dance again, you've seen him do this over and over again but you can't seem to get sick of it. It's like you're giving yourself excuses just to keep seeing him.

But they don't feel like excuses, not at all, they're just more reasons why you feel deeply, and so quickly for Minghao.

Again, the both of you talk about everything and anything under the sun, him walking you through all his latest pieces, him plans for new ones creativity vibrating through ever cell in his body.

You imagine him talking so passionately about the future, maybe even a future with you.

Before you could realize what you were doing, you’re holding onto Minghao’s shoulders for support,

and you lean up to kiss him.

Minghao fights the urge to kiss back, he fails.

His hands come up to cup the back of your head tilting his head to deepen the kiss, pouring all his emotions into the simple, gesture of affection.

Your head was spinning, dizzy from his cologne and the wind getting knocked from your lungs as soon as your lips met his. It was electrifying, finally feeling the warmth of his body pressed so close, yet so far from yours.

Oh, you wanted him, so, so badly.

He pulls away first, heaving from the intensity of the kiss, eyes in a daze. Meeting your eyes again, he couldn’t help but lean in for another kiss.

This time he's really pressing into you seemingly drunk off of the feeling of his lips meeting yours. He's just a man at the end of the day, a weak, weak man in the face of paradise.

He came back to his senses once he felt the cool metal of your wedding ring on his neck. Jolting back, he pushed your shoulders back, creating a significant distance between the two of you.

“I, I think you should leave.” He said turning to hide in his studio bathroom to collect his thoughts.

You stood there puzzled, did he not feel the same way you did? But why did he kiss you, twice? Something isn't adding up.

But moreover, you can't ignore the painful sting this rejection gave you. You wanted him, did he not want you? What was the point of trying so hard to make you fall for him when he just decided to back down when he finally had you?

You gather your belongings and leave the studio, the door clicking to lock behind you. The ride back was suffocating, it felt like you left a part of yourself in that studio with Minghao. And you fear that this may be the last time you see him.

You haven’t spoken to Minghao in the weeks following the kiss, your nerves on fire every time you remember how his pillow lips felt so right on yours.

You're standing in front of the mural. The one where Hephestus caught Aphrodite, his wife, and Hephestus, her lover, having an affair and having sex on their marital bed.

It's funny, looking at this mural. You spent your last weeks wandering his gallery, searching for his shadow, but he always seems to evade you so easily. He's marked you like a bloodstain on a pristine white dress, lingering like fog on a cold autumn day.

Winter is still young, yet you feel cold. So, so cold.

As if your most desperate prayers were heard, Minghao practically materializes next to you.

“Hi. I'm sorry I wasn't able to speak to you for the past few weeks. I'm a coward, a fool to run from you.” He said, both of you looking at the mural and not at each other.

Silence follows, you couldn't look at him, you couldn't speak to him. “Y/n I-”

“This isn't the place to talk about this.” You said coldly.

Minghao flinches a bit, not used to how icy your voice was. It usually greets him so warmly, so lovingly.

“Let's go out to drink, there's a bar that's walking distance from here, if you'd like go go with me. I have too many things to say to you, too many thoughts left unsaid. You deserve to hear them, at least.” He said, remorseful.

You really couldn't find it in yourself to stay mad at him. So you agree to walk with him.

The walk to the bar is silent, unlike your previous walks. You're so far from him, you even refused to hold onto his arm like you usually do.

It's early winter yet Minghao is sweating bullets, he's almost vibrating at a frequency that could shatter glass. His nerves are all over the place, he's acting so out of character, nothing like the calm, cool, collected Minghao you've come to know over the past few months.

He takes a deep breathe before you both enter the bar.

A few drinks in and you’re already tipsy, “You know- hic- my husband is being a dick to me.” You drunkenly slurred, “This novel I’ve been writing for over two years now is fucking me in the ass- I- I want to finish it so desperately but all he does is sucks the soul out of me. He’s a giant pain in the ass-!”

Minghao snorts at this, loudly talking over the music of the bar, “Your husband is a fucking dick! Your work is amazing. If I were him, I would do anything to help you get rid of that writer’s block, you know, inspire you.” He tucks a stray strand of hair behind your ear.

“You’d do that?” You ask, clinging onto his arm, “Thank youuuu hao bear~ you’re the best-!” You giggle into his arm, your weight pressing against his side. You’ve only known him for three months at this point, but his ideas and influence on your work improved your writing and motivation drastically.

“Hao bear? That’s new, you’ve only known me for- what? 3 months? You’re already calling me nicknames!” He holds the back of your head gently, pressing his forehead onto yours, “I should give you a nickname too… Starlight, how does that sound?” At this point, you tune out every other sound other than the sound of his voice and the pounding of your heart.

This man had you in a chokehold the moment you met him, you were fucking doomed from the start.

“Starlight? Yeah, I like it more than a little bit.” You say softly, your words almost getting lost in the noise of the bar.

“Let’s move to somewhere quieter, yeah? Tell me more about your work. We can head to my place to settle down for a bit.” There it is, the same dark, barely there smirk that plagues your stomach with butterflies.

“Yeah, I’d like that.”

Arriving at Minghao’s place, you take a quick look around his apartment. Everywhere you look is a pop of color, bold splotches of vibrant hues making the place look like it was pulled straight out of the 80s, “Hao, your place is amazing, the furniture brings me so much joy~” You giggle a bit, sitting down at the plush red velvet couch shaped like a seashell.

“Thanks! Most of the furniture is thrifted from retro thrift stores, I like this style more. It brings so much personality to the space.” He passionately talks about them, “Do you want anything to drink? I have water, juice, and beer here.” He says, rummaging through his fridge.

“Oh, just water, please.” You say you have a feeling that you need to at least sober up for whatever the night brings.

He takes two glasses of water and places them down on the coffee table. It’s the only piece in the entire house that is a neutral color, a fine hardwood. You couldn’t tell what it was at a glance, not that it was important anyway.

“So, let’s talk about this book that you’ve been struggling to write now. Could you tell me what it’s about?” He asks, taking a swig of his water, you stare at his side profile while he does, sharp yet delicate features, his Adam’s apple bobbing from his drink.

Bro’s so majestic.

“Well, it’s about an artist who’s losing passion for his work, told from the perspective of his lover. It’s a spicy romance, with, in my opinion, a correct amount of sex scenes-”

“Give me a percentage of how much of it is smut.” Minghao interrupts you,

“Like… 75 percent?” He snorts at this, “Anyway, I’ve been stuck on the last spicy scene of the book, the climax, pun not intended,” You take a swig of your water, “I mean, it’s not like I don’t have experience writing that sort of thing, or lack experience in sex either, but my sex life’s been such a drag with my husband being gone for long periods and-”

Minghao interrupts you again, “And he doesn’t fuck you right, does he?”

The forwardness of his words made you freeze, you contemplated whether to reject him here, to tell him it wasn’t appropriate to talk about this with you, especially about your husband. You know how Minghao looks at you. It wasn’t a secret to anyone that he wanted you, but he never acted in any inappropriate way. He never makes you uncomfortable.

This was no exception. The swirling in your stomach wasn’t because of unease, no, this was because of arousal.

“No, no he doesn’t.”

He leans in, kissing you. This time he's not rushing, no more pushing and pulling, no more things left unsaid. He wants you, he'll have you. That was a promise.

He lifts you from the couch, lips never parting as he carries you to his bedroom, peeling each other's clothes, bumping into walls and furniture. But you couldn't care less, you were lost in each other's embrace and you can't think of another place you'd rather be.

Half-naked on Minghao’s bed, who, need you be reminded, was not your husband.

His hands roamed your sides, the heat from his palms warming your skin, causing it to flush, his soft, plump lips pressing feather-light kisses to your neck. You could feel his breath behind your ear, his hair tickling your cheek.

“How would your husband feel if he knew what you were doing with me right now?” He asks, clearly getting off on the fact that you were in his bed, getting ready to fuck him, a man who wasn’t your husband.

“I hope he’d be disappointed, but at this point, I think he forgot about me.” You say with a chuckle at the end, trying not to ruin the mood.

Minghao gently pulls away from you from that, “What?” he asks quietly, the word almost getting drowned out by the hum of the air conditioning, “Sorry, I know this was supposed to be a taboo, forbidden relationship thing but… I’m angry at him.” He says, avoiding your eyes.

“I know I’ve only known you for a few months, but I never felt this way before. It fucking kills me to think that a woman like you would be forgotten, for what exactly? Work?” He said anger gradually filling his voice. His hand reaches for your face when your eyes meet, thumbs pressing down on your cheekbone. The controlled and purposeful movement reminds you just how pliable you are under his touch. He sculpted you into what he wanted you to be; beautiful, strong, unashamed.

You gently cup his face, still hovering above you, “Kiss me, Minghao.”

And he did.

His lips met yours in a searing embrace, just the force of his passion against yours was dizzying, fiery desire clashing to make fireworks behind the eyelids that fluttered close. You never felt this type of longing from your husband, never felt his devotion being kissed through your lips like Minghao’s tongue was exploring it.

At that moment, you knew you were gone.

Minghao pulled away from you, hazy eyes meeting yours as the string of saliva that connected your mouths broke. At that moment, Minghao was stuck in a trance, his lips coming to meet yours over and over like he couldn’t stop tasting your lips even if he tried. A sweet ambrosia, too saccharine to stop. He’s become addicted to your lips molding onto his like sickly sweet honey sticking to his lips.

Out of breath, he grabs hold of your waist, rolling over to get you on top of him. He reaches behind you, unclasping the hooks of your bra and letting your breasts fall free from it. He cups both of them while you sit up, grinding on his hardening cock through his boxers, he groans at this, reflexively squeezing your boobs.

Placing both of your hands on his pecs, you also give them a gentle squeeze. Minghao notices this and his gaze darkens, passing his thumbs over your hardening nipples. Your pussy clenches onto nothing at this, a soft gasp leaves you as you started to grind harder against Minghao.

His nails started to dig into your hips, his own desperately grinding up against you for more friction. Soft moans leave him as he throws his head back against the pillows, eyes fluttering close just so he could focus on the sensations of your clothed cunt grinding against his cock through his boxers.

“God, get off of me before I cum in my underwear like a teenager.” He says with a playful groan, lifting your hips off from his crotch.

“Right, you still need to cum inside of me.” You say back playfully, his eyes darkened at this.

“Fuck, you make me want to keep you forever,” taking one of your hands and placing a kiss on your palm.

He lifts his hips only enough to get his boxers off, shimmying them off to somewhere on the floor near his bed. You also take this time to take your underwear off, secretly hiding it under his pillow when you lean down to kiss him again.

When you both pulled away, another string of saliva connected you two. You took two fingers to swipe at the liquid, bringing it down to rub your clit while you lowered yourself down to grind on his bare cock now.

Minghao hisses, “Fuck, I can feel how wet and warm you are, sweet christ.” he breathes out a shaky breath as you grind your bare wetness on his cock, lubricating the shaft for later. You moan at the contact, body slightly shaking from the friction of the tip of his cock hitting your clit occasionally.

“God, Minghao, fuck I need you inside me.” You desperately whine out. You lifted your hips up to finally hold his hard cock to align it with your pussy, slowly sinking on the thick girth. You throw your head back at the satisfying stretch his dick was making you feel.

“Fuck, you feel so good, so tight and warm,” He moans, he’s not shy about letting you know how good it feels with how vocal he’s being, he takes your right hand and holds it tightly, pressing it against his chest. You could feel his racing heartbeat under his skin, “Let me keep you forever, please, don’t make me beg, run away with me.”

You openly gape at him from this, You’d be a fool to accept this, especially since you’ve only known him for a fraction of the time you knew your husband, but god dammit.

“Take me with you, anywhere you want to go. I’m yours, please take me.” You say desperately. You’ve never been wanted this badly before, and god, you wanted more, for the rest of time.

Minghao abruptly thrusts up into you from this, tightly clenching your hand in his, still pressing on top of his racing heart under the skin. You cry out in pleasure, somehow the sensation of his heart under your palm elevates your pleasure, making you go dizzy at the thought that you’re doing this to him, and only you.

You come close to your climax embarrassingly quick, the sensation of his cock rubbing your velvet walls so perfectly made your head spin. Your ears are ringing so loudly that it almost drowns out your sounds of pleasure, and the sound of skin slapping against skin.

Minghao isn’t far from you either, the same dizzying effect taking hold of his mind too. He’s so close to finishing that he could almost taste it, his moans and whines of your name leaving his lips like a mantra, a prayer, even.

“Minghao I’m gonna cum-!” you say frantically, pressing your forehead onto his as he meets your lips with his for the nth time. You swallow the moans he spills into your mouth as you both climax at the same time. His heart still beating frantically under your palm.

“Did you mean that?” You ask breathlessly, “When you said you wanted me forever, did you mean it?” you couldn’t look him in the eyes.

“Exactly, I meant it word for word. Let me replace the ring on your finger with mine.” He smiles at you.

In the end, he did replace the ring on your finger with his, much more extravagant, and elaborate. Your husband wasn’t surprised at your sudden request for a divorce, since your marriage was already failing before you met Minghao.

Still, time was the ultimate truthteller.

Your husband found out about your High Infidelity around the middle of your divorce proceedings, and in a rage, he threw you and all your belongings out onto the driveway. In the middle of winter rain.

The rain soaked into your skin, cold and icy piercing you painfully. All your personal belongings were strewn all around you, and your soon-to-be ex-husband was angrily slamming the door shut, but you couldn't help but feel relieved.

After all, you were finally free.

You finished your book, it received critical acclaim and it was a New York Times Best-Seller.

And you got to marry Minghao, the love of your life. Who you were happily married to until the both of you grew old.

FIN.

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alexa-fika · 4 months

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Midnight Rascals (Sanji x child!reader)

A/N- Another one inspired by @me-writes-prompts, specifically from this post here, same as last time, I loosely based it on it as most of the prompt was change but it was still totally inspired by it. Who better to take this on than our Casanova chef?

Prompt: OTP comes home to their children playing with flour all over the floor and they can't help but coo at them, even though they'll have to clean the whole house twice.

Dividers by @/saradika

Sanji had woken up, his keen senses alerted by the familiar sound of someone having sneaked into the kitchen; knowing the avaricious appetite of his captain and how dangerous it would be to let the man be the cook stormed into the kitchen,

“Luffy, I swear,” he growls, only to stop at the shear mess that now lay in his kitchen, the whole place covered in white, his head snapping to one of the counters where he heard movement from

“Luffy, you better pray to every deity out there because when im done with the crew will be having a full-course meal on your body!”

“What the hell did you do to my kitchen?!” Sanji’s fury grew as he noticed every piece of equipment was covered with the same dusty white substance. Storming towards the counter only to stop short as in front of him lay not his captain but his young sibling thrown on the floor, writing and drawing messily on what he now identified as flour

Sanji stared blankly for a second, trying to register what his eyes were seeing

“W-what are you doing?!” He finally found the capacity to talk, staring at his sibling with disbelief as they lay there with their tongue sticking out in a state of concentrated effort, writing indecipherable words.

Their sibling shrieked, taking one look at their brother and the shocked look plastered on their face and shooting up and trying to make a run for it

Sanji immediately ran forward to grab the child who was attempting to escape, trying to hold back his laughter, his hands surrounding the small frame

“Ah ah ah, where do you think you’re going? I think you have lots to explain,” he said, holding the small child up with a curly browed arched as he waited for an explanation

“Why is there flour all over my kitchen?”

“It just fell…”

“Oh? It just fell, did it?”His eyes quickly once again surveyed the scale of the disaster caused by a bag of flour ‘falling,’ and with his youngest sibling covered in flour, it was apparent who was the cause of this catastrophe

“Yeah!”

“Oh, you mean those random piles of flour all around the floor, and the fact that every single piece of equipment in the kitchen is covered in flour, and even you’re covered head to toe in flour, and that you were literally writing with flour on the kitchen floor…It just fell, is that right?”

“Yeah?” They replied, giggling nervously, a little bit more hesitant than their previous answer

“Oh, you think being cute and giggling will get you out of trouble?”

Sanji smirked at his little sibling

“I promise you that’s not going to work this time.”

“ I love you, brother Sanji!”

“Convenient you wanting to share that when you’re caught red-handed. Do you think saying that is going to get you out of trouble?”

“Yep”

“Have a little bit of shame to at least deny it,” he mutters as he rolls his eyes, putting the child on the ground

“Good try, go get a rag; you have lots to clean up.”

“Awww!”

“Don’t you ‘Aww’ me, Start brooming and dusting the place,” he said, amused at his sibling's antics.

“But I was practicing writing!”

“You were practicing writing on the kitchen floor? With flour? Are you a baker now? Get cleaning”

They pout, grabbing a small child-size broom and starting to sweep the mess they had created

“Put that lip back, you rascal. I raised you, and I know your tricks; they won’t work on me like they do the rest of the crew,” he said, pulling out a cigarette and lighting it, inhaling and exhaling a thin wisp of smoke

What we thinking? I was working on another part for crocodile pigeon!reader among some other ideas but I had to get hall something wholesome and we haven’t heard of our resident cook in a while

Taglist:

@imaginarydreams

@amethystviolin

#one piece x reader #one piece #one piece x child!reader #one piece fluff #one piece imagine #sanji x child!reader #straw hat sanji #vinsmoke sanji #sanji x reader #one piece sanji #black leg sanji #sanji #op sanji #with: sanji

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glutengoblin · 19 days

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imgoingtogetyouback (Sebastian Sallow X Reader)

A/N: I've been bad and haven't been posting much - BUT I swear I have a lot things coming, I just need to work through writer's block a bit more. Anyway, here is something I wrote tonight, since I feel like it's been so long since I've posted anything. As always, any feedback is appreciating (Especially since this is my first smut that I've written)

Summary: Your and Sebastian's on and off again relationship has been driving you crazy- So, you decide to do something about it. (inspired by imgoingtogetyouback by miss TS)

Word Count: 2k

Warnings: NSFW, 18+ only. Minors DNI

Disclaimer: All characters are aged up to 18 in this piece. Also, I am not Taylor Swift and therefore do not own the rights to imgoingtogetyouback

You couldn’t believe that you found yourself here again.

You were drunk at the Three Broom Sticks, nearly falling off your stool as you eyed Sebastian Sallow across the room. Though the place was packed, you managed to keep your gaze steady on him. He cast a sly smirk as he studied the brunette Gryffindor student in front of him. While you had to admit that she was beautiful, it didn’t make the situation any less vexatious.

Neither Poppy nor Natty seemed to notice your intense focus on him, as the conversation at the table continued, and, most importantly, the drinking. Your body began to grow warm with anger as Sebastian leaned in to brush a strand of hair away from the Gryffindor’s face. You didn’t know which part was more frustrating - The fact that he was already touching another girl, or the fact that you loved it when he did that it to you.

After a couple more shots of fire whiskey, the world began to blur to the point where you felt like it was a good decision to confront Sebastian. After all, you had only broken up (for the third time) 2 weeks ago. How did he already think it was okay to go snogging yet another girl? You made a move to stand up, nearly falling off your stool before Poppy caught your arm.

“Woah there… What’s up Y/N?” When you didn’t answer, Poppy’s gaze followed your’s until her eyes pooled with worry. “Nuh-uh, you are not going there. Sit your butt back down.” You shook your head, pulling your arm free of Poppy’s grip.

“No Poppy, I have to- I mean, he’s touching another girl. Already.” Poppy stared at you, clearly concerned about your drunken state as she rubbed her temple.

“I’m not going to be able to stop you, am I?” You shot her a slightly lopsided grin, taking a few more steps forward.

“You know me so well!”

You began to make your way across the room, trying to limit the amount you bumped into the various patrons crowding the tables. Through the low light of the establishment, you could see Sebastian full-on kissing the girl at this point- That wouldn’t stand on your watch.

Marching over to his table, you slammed your hands down and tried to look as threatening as possible. Thankfully, the faint ancient magic glow that cast a blue tint around you seemed to do the trick, as the Gryffindor student looked up at you nervously.

“Can… Can I help you?” She asked softly, clearly trying to discern how to best proceed with caution. Sebastian, on the other hand, looked furious. But before he could voice his frustration, you shot the girl a menacing glare and began to draw your wand.

“Well, if you knew what was best for you, you probably would stop snogging another girl’s boyfriend. Specifically, a girl who could hex you into oblivion if she really wanted to.” At that moment, the Gryffindor clearly no longer valued bravery as much as she thought, as she choose to apologize profusely and quickly leave the table.

Sebastian turned to stare at you, wide-mouthed and red in the face, until he was finally able to speak again. “What the FUCK was that Y/N- You broke up with me!”

You simply shrugged, and gripped his arm, dragging him out towards the front doors. “What if I told you I changed my mind?” Sebastian could hardly get any retort out, sputtering words as you dragged him out into the lamp-lit, rainy street.

Sebastian sputtered some more, before finally yanking free of your grip. “And what exactly makes you think you can just decide that Y/N. For fuck’s sake, didn’t I see you snogging Amit just the other week? I thought you had moved on already, and here you come ruining my chances. I had a good thing going there you know. Plus, you broke up with me, remember?” The Slytherin crossed his arms over his chest, clearly fuming at your actions. Honestly, you were kind of glad you still had this effect on him. After all, Sebastian was the most attractive when he was angry.

You let out a soft chuckle, as you drunkenly took a couple more steps towards him, and placed your hand on his cheek. He flushed at the contact, his resolve clearly flattering a bit. “I mean, I did, but I’ve decided to put your last transgression aside, just for tonight… Assuming you’re interested?” You cocked an eyebrow, trying to give him the most seductive smile you could when this wasted. Sebastian studied your face for only a few moments, before making the decision you always knew he would.

As he leaned in to capture your lips with his own, you pulled him closer to you with fistfuls of his shirt, and apparated you to your room of requirement. You both stumbled a bit at the sudden travel, but Sebastian recovered quickly. Pressing you backward with increasingly more desperate kisses, he pressed you into a wall, and gripped your thighs to hoist you up higher.

You your legs wrapped around his waist, you could already feel his erection growing- You loved having this effect on him, almost as much as you loved being railed by him. You pressed your core against him, rubbing until you gained a satisfied groan from his lips.

Sebastian moved his lips away from yours and began to greedily press kisses against your neck, as his hands traveled under your sweater, gracing your skin with his hot touch. Between kisses, he choked out praises, trying his best to earn a reaction. “Fuck, Y/N- I didn’t know how much I missed your body.” He let out another throaty groan and you pressed yourself against his still-clothed erection, and let out a small sigh of your own.

“If you missed my body that much, you sure are not doing a great job of taking my clothes off.” Sebastian let out a chuckle against your neck, before taking the invitation and beginning to practically rip your clothes off of you, throwing your sweater and skirt to the floor, with your tights following close after. You began to work on his buttons and belt, quickly ridding him of his clothes until only his undergarments remained on, his shirt long discarded and his pants pooled around his legs.

Finally letting you down from your pinned position to fully remove his pants, Sebastian pointed to the chaise lounge. “You, on there, now. Strip while you’re at it.”

To his surprise, you were more obedient than usual, as you gave him a mischievous smirk over your shoulder and began to walk towards the lounge, leaving a trail of undergarments as you went. Eventually, you laid down fully bare, and eyed Sebastian’s form as he made his way over. He too had chosen to discard all of his clothing, and now held his length in his hand, rubbing slowly as he greedily eyed your body.

“All submissive and spread out for me- You know, I think I may like you better like this.” He let around a soft chuckle as he knelt in front of you, grabbing the backs of your knees to yank you closer.

The next thing you knew, his mouth had collided with your core, his tongue traveling over your folds. You let out a moan, your head falling back against the lounge as your hands found purchase in his hair, pulling that delicious mouth of his even closer.

Sebastian obliged willing, his tongue probing your entrance before he moved to suck gently on your clit. You looked down to meet his lustful eyes, as he brought his hand up to your opening. While continuing the suction on your clit, he brought his fingers to your folds, stroking a few times to wet them before dipping them in, gaining an elicit reaction from you.

You groaned his name, as your grip on his hair only tightened. You could feel him chuckle against you, as you let out a few lewd moans. “There, there darling.” Sebastian pistoned his fingers in and out of you harder, moving up your body to stare down at your face. “Don’t worry, I won’t let you come until my cock is inside you. You deserve at least that much for putting me through the wringer these past few weeks.”

You could barely contain your excitement as he eventually withdrew his fingers from you, and used your slick to wet the tip of his cock. He then leaned over your body, positioning himself at your entrance. “Have you been a good girl for me, stayed as tight as I like it?”

You let out a stuttered yes, as your eyes traveled down his form and to his cock, which looked as large as ever. Gods, you loved having sex when Sebastian was mad at you.

Sebastian let out a chuckle, before pressing a needy kiss against your lips. “Good.”

Without warning, you felt him penetrating you. Before you could even adjust, he began to thrust in and out, letting out lewd noises of his own. “Fuck Y/N- You don’t know how much I missed this.” He filled you completely before pulling back out again, delightfully stretching your walls with each thrust.

“Gods, Sebastian- I-I missed you too.” You begged for it harder, wrapping your hands around his back and digging your nails in, drawing him in even closer.

Sebastian’s thrusts began to falter a bit, as he left a mark on your neck, slightly regretting the ruthless pace he had chosen to set. His hands moved down to your hips, one holding you down tightly. The other continued onto your core, as his fingers found purchase against your clit and began to rub those circles you loved, ever so dearly.

You groaned uncontrollably, begging for more, as your orgasm drew ever nearer. Sebastian was clearly in the same boat, as his hips began to falter even more. Still, he tried his best to continue, willing your orgasm to come before his. “Tell me Y/N, can Amit make you feel this good?” He looked up to study your expression, trying his best to hide his worry that you may in fact say yes.

“O-Of course not- fuck… No one can make me feel like you do Sebastian.” That gained a grin from the freckled boy, who rubbed with more pressure as if to reward the answer he so desperately needed to hear.

“Good, then cum for me, babe.” It was only a few moments before you obliged him, your body winding tightly before releasing into wonderful waves of pleasure, that took over your form and made you go limp against the lounge.

Sebastian’s attack on your body only continued, until he eventually filled you with hot trails of his seed, his hips gradually slowing down as he lingered in the warm heat of your connection.

Eventually, once you came to a bit more, you found Sebastian lying beside you, his arms wrapped around your frame as he rubbed your back, pressing gentle kissing against your forehead. You eventually looked up, giving him a shy smile, before reaching up to press a soft kiss against his lips.

Sebastian smiled down at you as well, studying your features with quiet intrigue. “Would it be too forward to ask if this means that we’re back together?”

You let out a small chuckle, pressing your lips gently against his cheek. “I suppose it does… Assuming you can provide dick like that every night.”

Sebastian laughed, brushing a strand of hair from your face behind your ear, cementing the fact that you were once again his. “I suppose I could try… Tough standard to live up to.”

“Oh don’t worry… I’m sure you will. Besides, I know I’ll always be able to find ways to make you mad. You’re kind of an easy target.”

#sebastian sallow x reader #sebastian sallow fanfiction #sebastian sallow #sebastian sallow x you #sebastian sallow x reader smut #hogwarts legacy smut #sebastian sallow angst

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racinginchid3nt · 9 months

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I’d Probably Still Adore You | Part Four

Y/N x Lance Stroll, Y/N Best Friend x Pierre

Gasly plus some mild Y/N x Lando Norris and Y/N x Carlos Sainz bits

In which a night at the club and a game of never have I ever turns into something new

Inspired by 505 - Arctic Monkeys

Warnings: The start of the smut is here folks. 18+ only

One | Two | Three | Four | Five | Six

————————————————————————

Sunday

As you walked into the club arm and arm with Y/N Best Friend, you knew you’d underestimated the night. The security was strict, having checked your IDs against the list in his hand. Paparazzi and fans alike gathered around the entrance, cameras flashing.

The lights were dim, drinks flowing freely through the crowded room. Everywhere you looked you were surrounded by familiar faces, drivers, mechanics, girlfriends, friends of the drivers, celebrities, and more. The lights from the DJ booth danced around the room to the beat of the music, speckling the crowd in shades of blues, greens, and reds. The metallic of your dress shone even brighter because of it.

As you made your way to the table, you took in the occupants in the section. For the drivers, Pierre, Carlos, Lando, Oscar, Charles, and Max say around, drinks in their hands. Beside Max say his girlfriend Kelly. A pretty blonde was seated next to Lando, his friend Max on her other side.

As Y/N Best Friend settled on to Pierre’s lap, Lando jumped from his seat.

“Y/N! You made it! Lovely to see you again.” The Brit exclaimed. “Come sit. We can make room.”

As he shuffled closer to the blonde, a space opened between him and Carlos. You settled in quickly, a tight squeeze between the two. The Spaniard’s eyes were already hazy already, the alcohol taking its effect already. Despite it you watched as he took you in, dropping his eyes slowly from your face, to your chest, and down to the exposed skin of your legs.

“I’m sorry about your race.” You stated.

“It happens and it sucks. But right now, I think there’s much better things to worry about.” He replied. Those big brown eyes staring into yours.

You felt an arm make its way to your shoulders from your other side. The attached hand making it’s way to the ends of your hair, twirling the pieces around absentmindedly.

“Can I get you something to drink?” Lando asked. “Order whatever you want, it’s on Verstappen tonight.”

Before you knew it a drink made it’s way into your hand. Then another. And another. And another. As the liquor began to set in, your desire to dance grew stronger.

Making eye contact with Y/N Best Friend, she grabbed your hand. You rose from your seat, dragging her to the floor. She followed easily, leaving Pierre’s lap.

Before you knew it the two of you were dancing on each other. A shared smirk passing between the two of you. You quickly reverted to your normal routine, grinding along to the beat. Arms tangled in each others’ hair, the smell of your perfumes and the alcohol on your breathes mixing. This routine was nothing new for the two of you. A foolproof plan that had gotten the two of you through university without ever paying for your own drinks.

Pierre had made his way out of the booth, seemingly content to hang back slightly, eyes hooded as he watched his girlfriend move. But he wasn’t the only one who couldn’t take their eyes off of you two.

——— Meanwhile ———

Lance had spent the first hour of the after party firmly stationed at the DJ booth. The race had gone well, he’d scored points, and he was ready to celebrate. He was always on the shy side when he was sober, needing time to get a few drinks in before he was open to socializing more with the other drivers. As he stepped away from the table, he heard a voice call out behind him, “Who the fuck are they?”

He scanned the crowd, trying to determine what could’ve drawn that reaction. It took only a minute for him to spot them in the crowd. Gasly’s girlfriend and the brunette from the media day run in were drawing eyes from all corners of the club. Pierre stood close but off to the side, watching over the two but enjoying the show as well.

The mystery girl’s dress sparkled in the light, some kind of metallic satin material. It wrapped tightly around her neck, plunging low down her back. It sat high on her thighs, inching ever higher as her friend ran her hands along the brunettes hips. The sight was openly sexual, overtly so. It was obvious they were putting on a show, but they were enjoying it too. They’d clearly done this before, too in sync for this to be the first time. And while he’d like to think he was better than that, the thought of the two of them touching each other was enough to get his blood rushing.

From the driver’s section, he saw that the dance had captured the attention of Sainz and Norris. However, neither had made a move to join Pierre on the floor. Lance knew then that neither man was with the brunette. If that was his girlfriend he would’ve been next to Pierre, warning off anyone else who was interested. He was a jealous man. After a few minutes he would probably have already dragged her off the floor and into the back hallway. The dimly lit hall and single stall bathrooms had certainly seen their fair share of hookups, tucked away like that. Especially in a club this private, no one would interrupt.

Scenes played heavily through his mind, the possibilities warming his blood. It wasn’t until her hands slipped to the bottom of her dress, sliding the silky material dangerously high. The hint of lace that was revealed was enough to have him setting down his drink.

Switching the music to an r&b track, he wondered how far she’s take it. How far Pierre would let the girls take it. But as the song played, carrying the sultry sexual tune, he watched on. Because she wasn’t his girlfriend, and fuck he was going to enjoy the show if she was going to put it on.

———

Banks’ voice flowed through the speakers. A favorite of yours, the lyrics drawing you in.

And if I’m feeling like I’m evil

We got nothing to gain

As the song continued on, a tune of two lovers separation and a cursed love, you felt Y/N Best Friend get even closer to you. Her hands ran over the tie around your neck, sliding down your exposed back. As they reached the bottom of the dip, she smirked. You knew that look well. She was scheming, and you felt as her plan worked out.

Pierre had finally broken, pressing himself impossibly close to his girlfriend. His hands wedging between your bodies so he could grab her hips and drag her against him. Then it was three of you, her sandwiched between you, tightly in Pierre’s grip and grinding on you both. You heard him whisper into her ear but you couldn’t make out the words. As the song began to draw to an end, you felt her hand grip your shoulder.

“Wanna take a breather?” She asked.

“Sure.” You replied.

As the two of you made your way to the table hand in hand, Pierre gripped his girlfriends waist tightly. The two of them settled into the corner of the booth.

“What was that?” A voice asked. The subtle Spanish accent that ran through it was unmistakable.

“What ever do you mean?” You replied laughing.

“You know what I mean. Are you two always like that? I don’t know how Pierre stands it. Unless….” He trailed off.

“Unless what?” You asked, confusion marking your features.

“Unless you share.”

“Are you asking if I have threesomes with them?” You responded quickly.

“Yes. If you want to share with the group it would be much appreciated.”

A British voice cut in with a laugh before you could respond. “You know what? How about a little game of never have I ever?”

You hadn’t played since secondary school, back when everything was taboo and every revealed piece of information could be held above your head. But now, what was their to lose? You’d probably never see the drivers again.

“Sure. I’ll play.”

“Play what?” A new voice interjected.

You looked up through your lashes to see who had joined the group, eyes locking with a familiar pair of brown eyes.

————————————————————————

A/N: I’m getting parts out way quicker than I expected. At this rate I’ll be moving on to Pierre’s story much sooner than anticipated.

Songs mentioned:

Waiting Game by Banks

#lance stroll #lance stroll x y/n #lance stroll x reader #lance stroll x you #pierre gasly #pierre gasly x y/n #pierre gasly x you #pierre gasly x reader #carlos sainz #carlos sainz x reader #lando norris #Landon Norris x reader #formula one #f1 #f1 fanfic #f1 x reader

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pyeonghongrie · 9 months

Text

High Infidelity

Summary: The novel you've been writing has been in progress for the better half of two years now, your writer's block beating you up, and your husband hasn't shown you any sympathy. Maybe a visit to the art exhibit from this new artist would jog your creativity, but what happens when this new artist offers you more than just relief from your writer's block?

Characters/Pairing(s): Artist!Aged-Up!Hongjoong x Writer!Aged-Up!Fem!Reader

Genre: Smut, Angst, Fluff

AUs/Trope info: Non-Idol!AU, Aged-Up!AU, Right Person Too Late

Word Count: 3247

Warnings: Infidelity, very inappropriate conversations with a married woman, tipsy sex (not drunk), vaginal sex, unprotected sex, creampie, nipple stimulation, afab!reader

Rating: 18+

A/N: I'll be using the name "Haru" for Y/N's Husband because my friends don't want me to write a different ATEEZ member getting cheated on, so my friend @/stardragongalaxy volunteered as tribute 😂

"Y/N, you still haven't dealt with the dishes yet." Your husband, Haru, said monotonously just as you were starting to gain momentum in your writing.

You groan, the interruption making you lose focus and motivation to write. You stare at the last word on your document, gaze burning into each individual pixel as if hoping that this piece would write itself.

Unfortunately, life said "Fuck you."

With another groan, you rub and pinch the bridge of your nose, a headache starting to settle in as your Husband returned to working as if he didn't just cause you a grave inconvenience.

Standing from your comfortable computer chair, you take calm and even strides towards your kitchen, where only a handful of dishes were left in the sink.

And this little shit didn't even bother washing like, what? 8 dishes? he has to be kidding me, men.

You thought to yourself, your inner monologue only making yourself more irritated. But you wash them in silence, thinking of ways to at least calm down and clear your head so you have a clean slate to work with to get inspired again.

I think I should visit the gallery again, there's this new artist that I've been following, he's getting pretty popular, maybe I could draw inspiration from his work?

You think maybe this is the best idea you've had since you but bacon bits on mac & cheese.

Taking the time to visit this gorgeous gallery was definitely the correct move.

Kim Hongjoong is a passionate man, you can see the dedication to his craft in all the pieces in this gallery. He was a mixed media artist, sometimes his work was pops of color on a canvas, others are sculptures made of clay, made with the most delicate of hands, others are more niche, like the stained glass piece in another part of the gallery.

One thing about Hongjoong's work is that his subjects are also subjects of passion.

Paintings of a man's devotion to worshiping his lover's skin, a stained glass recreation of The Birth of Venus by Botticelli, and his latest masterpiece,

Simply titled "Passion", a sculpture of a woman in the throws of pleasure, with her lover holding her close to him, no gap between their skin, eternally locked in a passionate embrace.

As a romance writer, this is exactly what you needed.

You stare in awe at this piece for a little over 20 minutes, the more you look at it, the more entranced you become of the mastery of this craft.

You feel a presence beside you, a man around 5'9", slightly muscular build, in a turtleneck with glasses sitting delicately on his nose. He has peculiar split-dyed hair, and the most gorgeous face you've ever laid your eyes on.

"I'm Hongjoong, by the way, Kim Hongjoong. If you haven't already figured it out." He takes a hand out of his pocket, extending it towards you.

"Oh, I'm Y/N, Park Y/N. It's a pleasure to meet you, Hongjoong. Your exhibit is astounding, I love your dedication to your work." You take his hand to shake it,

He chuckles at the compliment, "Oh please, save your praise, I know that name from anywhere. I love your latest work, that book was what inspired this entire collection to begin with."

You gawk at him, oh my god, he reads smut. My smut.

"Oh my, what an honor! I'm glad you also enjoy my work." You receive the compliment gracefully, " Although, I do want to hear more about why you got bored of this piece in particular, such a wonder to the arts community, surely you aren't downplaying your own work?"

He smiles, perfect teeth on display, you swear you never looked at a man like this in your life, you were absolutely down bad for his teeth.

"I'm not saying I think it's bad, I just got bored of the creative process." He explains, "although, I do want to continue adding to this collection, perhaps we can go and get drinks together? Exchange ideas?" he offers.

You ponder on this for a bit, going out to drinks with a budding friend wouldn't hurt, right?

"Could I give you my number? Let's set aside a day to chat. I have to get home to my husband before it gets too late."

A smirk came into his face, something dark about a seemingly insignificant change in his expression, “Of course, I look forward to our time together.”

The mug in your hands was warming your palms, and your focus was fixated on the man in front of you, he talked about another piece of his, titled “Longing”; it was heavily inspired by his desire to find someone who shares the same passion as him, the longing to hold someone in a way that nobody else could, intimacy in it’s purest form.

“It sounds a bit pathetic, I’m known for my work in the art of passion and, to put it simply, sex; but I haven’t been able to find the company of a lover myself. Perhaps that’s just the consequence of being a hopeless romantic, then again, you wouldn’t know the feeling of being lonely in romantics, I assume.” He said calmly, a small giggle ending his tangent.

“Oh I wouldn’t say that,” You look into the mug in your hands, your reflection swirling in the tea, your face looks back at you, eyes sunken in and sad, “To put it nicely… my husband robs me of solitude, but fails to offer me company.” You shouldn’t be talking about Haru like this, Your husband works many hours, tirelessly providing you with the house and connections for you to pursue a career in writing. But that wasn’t the reason why your anxiety was swirling in your stomach.

Looking back up at Hongjoong, the same dark expression sits on his face, a minuscule smirk, barely there even if you squint, “Well, we’re friends now, aren’t we? I could keep you company.”

That. That was a quality of him that you noticed fairly early on, you can never read his true intentions, suggestive prose with just enough deniability to gracefully reject him without the conversation becoming inappropriate.

But your anxiety wasn’t caused by that, no, it was caused by the fact that you didn’t want to reject him.

“I’d like that, Maybe we could head to a bar and get drinks there too? My husband won’t be back for a few months because of a business trip. I could use the company.” You say, looking at him through your lashes, he knows his effect on you, and the mental gymnastics that both of you play over the table was just appropriate enough that to anyone listening, it’s just two friends agreeing to get drinks later in the day.

But to both of you, well, only the two of you know what’ll happen once the sun goes down.

Hongjoong giggles at this, loudly talking over the music of the bar, “Your husband is a dick! Your work is amazing, If I were him, I would do anything to help you get rid of that writer’s block, you know, give you inspiration.” tucking a stray strand of hair behind your ear.

“You’d do that?” You ask, clinging onto his arm, “Thank youuuu Joongie bug~ you’re the best-!” You giggle into his arm, your weight pressing against his side, you’ve only known him for three months at this point, but his ideas and influence on your work improved your writing and motivation drastically.

“Joongie bug? That’s new, you’ve only known me for- what? 3 months? You’re already calling me nicknames!” He holds the back of your head gently, pressing his forehead onto yours, “I should give you a nickname too… Starlight, how does that sound?” At this point, you tune out every other sound other than the sound of his voice and the pounding of your heart.

This man had you in a chokehold the moment you met him, you were fucking doomed from the start.

“Starlight? Yeah, I like it more than a little bit.” You say softly, your words almost getting lost in the noise of the bar.

“Let’s move to somewhere quieter, yeah? Tell me more about your work, we can head to my place to settle down for a bit.” There it is, the same dark, barely there smirk that plagues your stomach with butterflies.

“Yeah, I’d like that.”

Arriving at Hongjoong’s place, you take a quick look around his apartment, everywhere you look is a pop of color, bold splotches of vibrant hues made the place look like it was pulled straight out of the 80s, “Joongie, your place is amazing, the furniture brings me so much joy~” You giggle a bit, sitting down at the plush red velvet couch shaped like a seashell.

“Thanks! Most of the furniture is thrifted from retro thrift stores, I like this style more. It brings so much personality to the space.” He gleefully talks about them, “Do you want anything to drink? I have water, juice, and beer here.” He says, rummaging through his fridge.

“Oh, just water, please.” You say, you have a feeling that you needed to at least sober up for whatever the night brings.

He takes two glasses of water and places them down on the coffee table, It’s the only piece in the entire house that is a neutral color, a fine hardwood. You couldn’t tell what it was at a glance, not that it was important anyway.

Bro’s so majestic.

“Well, it’s about an artist who’s losing passion for his work, told from the perspective of his lover. It’s a spicy romance, with, in my opinion, a correct amount of sex scenes-”

“Give me a percentage of how much of it is smut.” Hongjoong Interrupts you,

Hongjoong interrupts you again, “And he doesn’t fuck you right, does he?”

The forwardness of his words made you freeze, you contemplated whether to reject him here, to tell him it wasn’t appropriate to talk about this with you, especially about your husband. You know how Hongjoong looks at you, It wasn’t a secret to anyone that he wants you, but he never acts in any way that is appropriate, he never makes you uncomfortable.

This was no exception, the swirling in your stomach wasn’t because of unease, no, this was because of arousal.

“No, no he doesn’t.”

It wasn’t supposed to be like this.

This, being half-naked on Hongjoong’s bed, who, need I remind you, was not your husband.

His hands roamed your sides, the heat from his palms warming your skin, causing it to flush, his soft, plump lips pressing feather-light kisses to your neck, You could feel his breath behind your ear, his hair tickling your cheek.

“How would your husband feel if he knew what you were doing with me right now?” He asks, clearly getting off of the fact that you were in his bed, getting ready to fuck him, a man who wasn’t your husband.

“I hope he’d be disappointed, but at this point, I think he forgot about me.” You say with a chuckle at the end, trying not to ruin the mood.

Hongjoong gently pulls away from you from that, “What?” he asks quietly, the word almost getting drowned out by the hum of the air conditioning, “Sorry, I know this was supposed to be a taboo, forbidden relationship thing but… I’m angry at him.” He says, avoiding your eyes.

“I know I’ve only known you for a few months, but I never felt this way before, it fucking kills me to think that a woman like you would be forgotten, for what exactly? Work?” He said anger gradually filling his voice.

You gently cup his face, still hovering above you, “Kiss me, Hongjoong.”

And he did.

His lips met yours in a searing embrace, just the force of his passion against yours was dizzying, fiery desire clashing to make fireworks behind the eyelids that fluttered close, You never felt this type of longing from your husband, never felt his devotion being kissed through your lips like Hongjoong’s tongue was exploring it.

At that moment, you knew you were gone.

Hongjoong pulled away from you, hazy eyes meeting yours as the string of saliva that connected your mouths broke, at that moment, Hongjoong was stuck in a trance, his lips coming to meet yours over and over, like he couldn’t stop tasting your lips even if he tried.

Out of breath, he grabs a hold of your waist, rolling over to get you on top of him, he reaches behind you, unclasping the hooks of your bra and letting your breasts fall free from it, he cups both of them while you sit up, grinding on his hardening cock through his boxers, he groans at this, reflexively squeezing your boobs.

Placing both of our hands on his pecs, you also give them a gentle squeeze, Hongjoong notices this and giggles, passing his thumbs over your hardening nipples. Your pussy clenches onto nothing at this, a soft gasp left you as you started to grind harder against Hongjoong.

His nails started to dig into your hips, his hip desperately grinding up against you for more friction, soft moans leave him as he throws his head back against the pillows, eyes fluttering close just so he could focus on the sensations of your clothed cunt grinding against his cock through his boxers.

“God, get off of me before I cum in my underwear like a teenager.” He says with a playful groan, lifting your hips off from his crotch.

“Right, you still need to cum inside of me.” You say back playfully, his eyes darkened at this,

“Fuck, you make me want to keep you forever, taking one of your hands and placing a kiss to your palm.

He lifts his hips up only enough to get his boxers off, shimmying it off to somewhere on the floor near his bed. You also take this time to take your underwear off, secretly hiding it under his pillow when you leaned down to kiss him again.

When you both pulled away, another string of saliva connected you two, you took two fingers to swipe at the liquid, bringing it down to rub your clit while you lowered yourself down to grind on his bare cock now.

Hongjoong hisses, “Fuck, I can feel how wet and warm you are, sweet christ.” he breathes out a shaky breath as you grind your bare wetness on his cock, lubricating the shaft for later. You moan at the contact, body slightly shaking from the friction of the tip of his cock hitting your clit occasionally.

“God, Hongjoong, fuck I need you inside me.” You desperately whine out. You lifted your hips p to finally hold his hard cock to align it with your pussy, slowly sinking down on the thick girth, you throw your head back at the satisfying stretch his dick was making you feel.

“Fuck, you feel so good, so tight and warm,” He moans out, he’s definitely not shy about letting you know how good it feels with how vocal he’s being, he takes your right hand and holds it tightly, pressing it against his chest. You could feel his racing heartbeat under his skin, “Let me keep you forever, please, don’t make me beg, run away with me.”

You openly gape at him from this, You’d be a fool to accept this, especially since you’ve only known him for a fraction of the time you knew your husband, but god dammit.

“Take me with you, anywhere you want to go, I’m yours, please take me.” You say desperately, you’ve never been wanted this badly before, and god, you wanted more, for the rest of time.

Hongjoong abruptly thrusts up into you from this, tightly clenching your hand in his, still pressing on top of his racing heart under the skin, You cry out in pleasure, somehow the sensation of his heart under your palm elevates your pleasure, making you go dizzy at the thought that you’re doing this to him, and only you.

You come close to your climax embarrassingly quick, the sensation of his cock rubbing your velvet walls so perfectly made your head spin, your ears are ringing so loudly that it almost drowns out your sounds of pleasure, and the sound of skin slapping against skin.

Hongjoong isn’t far from you either, the same dizzying effect taking hold of his mind too, he’s too close to finishing that he could almost taste it, his moans and whines of your name leaving his lips like a mantra, a prayer, even.

“Hongjoong I’m gonna cum-!” you say frantically, pressing your forehead onto his as he meets your lips with his for the nth time, you swallow the moans he spills into your mouth as you both climax at the same time. His heart still beating frantically under your palm.

“Did you really mean that?” You ask breathlessly, “When you said you wanted me forever, did you mean it?” you couldn’t look him in the eyes.

“Exactly, I meant it word for word, Let me replace the ring on your finger with mine.” He smiles at you.

In the end, he did replace the ring on your finger his his, much more extravagant, and elaborate. Your husband wasn’t surprised at your sudden request for a divorce, since your marriage was already failing before you met Hongjoong.

In the end, he didn't have to know about your High Infidelity.

Tags: @kwanisms, @yoonguurt, @lemonhongjoong, @shinestarhwaa, @stardragongalaxy, @wooyoungmybelovedhusband, @anyamaris, @dimpledsatan, @haosweater, @starlitmark, @seongwin, @midnxght-sky, @nebulousbookshelf, @piratequeen-queenofgames, @northerngalxy, @yourfatherlucifer, @twisted-tales-of-all, @seumiley, @hwasangelbaby

Network Tags: @cultofdionysusnet, @kflixnet

Strikethrough: Couldn't tag

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woneuntonzz · 3 months

Text

.𖥔 ݁ ˖ reflections

📞 ; “maybe it's a blessing in disguise, i see my reflection in your eyes.”

𖹭 : sungchan x afab!reader

💭 love can be a possession, and like everything owned, it can be easily lost... “we were too close to the stars.”

⤷ contains: angst, pining, cussing, mentions of other idol names for

world building

⤷ warnings: none (?)

⤷ wc: 4.2k (not proofread :>)

🎧 a songfic, inspired by The Neighbourhood's Reflections

-ˋˏ under the cut .ᐟ ✄┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈

Perfect does not exist, maybe that’s true for you, but I’ve seen perfection, I’ve felt perfection. The thought seems superficial, I know, but to be in my place —I’ve had to endure years of sorrow because of this said perfection.

And perfection was in the form of Jung Sungchan.

On the surface, it might take a few blinks for one to understand. But it wasn’t solely your visage that has led me to this wistful void.

I loved to draw, just as much as I loved you, maybe a little less —but you get the point. You’ve been the subject of my illustrations, from the moment I saw you, till I couldn’t physically see you anymore.

“Is that me?” I didn’t get why you’d still ask, of course it’s you, it’ll always be you.

The outline of your profile provokes daydreams, oh how I wish I was the only one. When I saw you for the first time I instantly knew, everyone had their eyes on you, it was only a matter of time till the attraction came pouring in.

Still, you stood your ground like everyone else, just trying to live your life, and everyday I wished I could be part of it.

I draw the lines, and you paint it with colors, colors I had never seen before, colors that could’ve been the manifestation of your reciprocation.

“Good morning, I’m Jung Sungchan, I was wondering if I’m in the right place, senior Kim sent me here to fetch the package from, Y/n?” you were quite unsure of my name, I’m pretty sure you had it written on the tiny piece of paper you held in between two of your fingers.

“That’s me. Department?” I didn’t even know why I still asked, I knew well where you were situated.

“Film.” I felt as if I was going to combust, I could’ve sworn I saw you held back a laugh, the slight hum of your bass voice almost had me stumbling back. “You?”

“Arts.” Now I almost laughed at myself.

But never did I think that our talk would last for a longer while. “Sophomore, right?”

I tried my best to exude a hum as a response, before asking you back why, “Why’d you ask?”

“I see you around a lot, but I just wasn’t sure if you were older or younger. I also confused you with someone else I knew multiple times before.” —someone else?

I was thinking maybe I should be more open to variety, to not wear the same hairstyle, similar set of clothes, and one color pallette everyday. Maybe then you wouldn’t confuse me for someone else. Maybe then you’d see me and think, that’s Y/n from the Arts Dep. She's really pretty.

“Who did you confuse me for? maybe I know who they are.”

“Actually…” actually what Sungchan? “She’s your friend.”

I don’t exactly have loads of friends, but I couldn’t help but ask, “Which one?”

“Minjeong.”

I had no idea of what expression you had painted on my face with all the things you had just said, but Minjeong? to confuse me with her might be too remote from the reality I lived. And because I was talking to a guy, I remembered when she told me, “Can you believe it? I’m being pursued by a guy!” —I never thought that guy would be you. Why you? or rather, why not me?

It wasn’t hard to tell whether my assumptions are true or not, because the way you bit your lip after her name fell from your mouth, suppressing a smile I could only assume was one only she could elicit from you.

I was right.

And I was in pain. I felt like nothing but an excuse for you to see her, always seeming to have packages to retrieve for your senior, and coming back to return things to me, then all I hear is she, she, she, Minjeong where, Minjeong when —I wanted to rid of my hearing, besides it already felt like bleeding to the point where clotted blood would just block my auditory.

But my pain only leads to my deception. I hate that I had to smile through whatever you had to say, congratulate you even when you gushed about her smiling back at you, or talking to you all evening through messages.

“That’s cute, happy there’s some progress.” I spoke through a pretentious smile.

“Thank you Y/n, I really don’t think it’ll be possible if I hadn’t met you.”

Perfection is truly just anguish behind a polished glass case, and at that moment I faced you, I wished I hadn’t met you at all.

My pain and deception, tomorrow I would keep the frame of your smile in my memories, and I just had to pick up a pencil. I’ve always loved to draw things, but through an artist’s honesty, I only draw the things I find beautiful, the things worth the graphite imprinted at the side of my hand. You were beauty and agony, and as much as I wanted to say I hated you, I loved you more than my best creations.

“You drew me? That’s really awesome, I don’t know how artists manage to create such images." Did you never think of how I did it? that maybe I stared at you for too long that I could draw you at every angle, with any expression —I had memorized every line on your face, the curve from the tip of your nose, to your philtrum, and to your lips. Whenever I drew your lips I would touch my own, feeling for its cushions whilst wondering how yours would feel. I reckon it must’ve been softer, more delicate, it always looked so velvet that for a while it was the only thing that occupied my mind.

So shameful of me to be fantasizing about a guy my friend liked and a guy who liked my friend. But I loved you first, it could’ve been me. I always stuck around so that maybe one day you’d choose me.

“She said yes!” —of course she would.

Anyone in her place would, and anyone who wouldn’t would be lying to themselves.

That smile you wore when you exclaimed so blissfully, it’s engraved in my mind, and then I knew I would never have that smile for myself.

My mind is clouded, and my heart is aching and cracking, and whenever I felt it I just wished you could feel it too, just how much you’ve ruined my life.

“Your work is honestly flawless, maybe Min could use some lessons from you.” your quip was followed by a playful hit on your shoulder, then a chorus of laughter.

“Yeah, Y/n is probably the best artist in our department, but I’m not that bad!” it hurt to watch you wrap an arm around her waist as her sweet voice so vexingly amplified in my ears.

You looked at me then, as if you were telling me to laugh. There was nothing for me to laugh at, it would be a pity to laugh at myself, and at what cost? Still, I had to force a smile, just for feeling sorry that I had let myself fall into your abyss.

Avoiding you could’ve tended my wounds, but it wasn’t that easy when you were dating my friend. My friend who I had known longer than you, my friend who was a lot less selfish than me, who likely had thought about me more than I have with her. How could I when you were occupying a very gross space in my mind. I’m disgusting for still yearning for you, all when we had nothing, no foreground. You had never looked at me like you looked at her, I have never felt the skin underneath your ironed dress shirt, I have never felt the heat of your breath against my neck, and never have I felt your tender grip clasped around my hands. I was all desire and no fulfillment, and it had to be that way, not for your sake nor hers, but for mine.

If I gave in, I wouldn’t be alive for you, her, and everyone looking down on me with ire.

I would only grow to hate myself even more, I love you, but I could only see the antithesis of your motivations.

“I owe you one too, Min and I wouldn’t be together if it weren’t for you.” and I didn’t even have a choice.

I saw you to be a bit too brazen to continue to treat me like a friend, yet I never saw you as one of mine.

“You don’t owe me one.” you owe me everything.

“That’s not true, hey, how about this, I have a friend who wants to meet you, remember the drawing that I stole from you? Well, he saw it and he said he wanted to meet the artist.” you seemed so eager to push me away.

“Oh really? Who's he?” to raise such a painful question, that day I truly was not myself.

You introduced me to a guy, and I could tell it took him great effort to be as expressive as you, not that he was aware that I had my eyes on you the whole time. It was no question that I would never see him the same way I did you, even if I tried, he isn’t Jung Sungchan, he isn’t you.

“So, how’d you find Eunseok?” you asked me when you accompanied me back to my building.

“He’s nice, but I’m not really looking for a date right now.” —I am only looking at you.

“Hmm, but try, yeah? maybe not date, but befriend him. Try to see him for who he is.” I chuckled at your careful pick of words, befriend, in what world did you think I was going to befriend a guy closely involved with you?

And for what? just so it would only be harder for me to escape myself?

It’s already a torturous endeavor to keep up with your beaming face, walking up to me like an old friend you’ve been longing to see after some time. Friend, is all I’ll ever be.

With the passing time, I figured, it was better than being nothing with you, right? I would rather have you just close enough, than not at all. I know it’s wrong for me to look at you that way, but it would only be me who knew, I’m sure. I see it in your eyes, how dismissive they are of the light that resides in mine, the light you ignited. You could so easily keep your eyes on me without a stagger, unlike me, fighting all my demons and being very easily lost in a reverie under your unsuspecting gaze.

“You’re really pretty, you know that, right?” sadly it wasn’t your voice I would hear it from.

“Eunseok, I already like someone else, I’ve told you.”

“Yeah, I know that, and I know who. It was a compliment.”

I had dared him to tell me who if he really knew, and he got it, slipped right off his tongue. Jung Sungchan, three syllables that provoked the fires of my hell.

But was I really pretty? apparently, not pretty enough for you.

“I mean, Eunseok wasn’t wrong, you are fairly pretty —but he did tell me you already like someone, do I know him?” you have no idea how badly I wanted to tell you to shut up, to tell you that it’s you, I like you.

“That’s easy to say isn't it?”

“What?”

“To call someone pretty, and it doesn’t even have to be true.” It’s true, isn’t it? It's so easy to leave those words without a second thought, because they're all words, and deceit is inevitable. Your face molded into a dumbfounded expression, and it scared me. I might’ve sounded my hatred with those few words and so I said, “I’m kidding, and you don’t have to know who I like. It’s none of your concern.”

I tried masking my regret with jest, but it was all true, I am not your concern. You shouldn’t care, especially when I’m not the one your heart beats for.

I was a witness of the highs and lows of your relationship, how both of you seemed to lack something in each other’s eyes. At that point, all I could do was look away. I was afraid, so I distanced myself. The blame, the misery, I had not shown intentions out of the ordinary, but my brain ached and quaked from the what ifs and hows, and the whens.

“Y/n? Are you avoiding me?” my breath hitched, and I halted my steps.

“No?—”

“No? why are you saying it as if you’re asking me?” I gulped, your eyes weren’t as spirited as they’d usually be, and your voice was demanding an answer out of me.

“No. I’m really busy with my workload, Sungchan.”

I wanted to yell at you, I’m in love with you, you and the way you cared, just stop caring, how hard could it be? stop caring so I could finally step away without looking back, so you could live a placid life without my trouble.

I never thought I’d witness you chase after her in our building for the last time, pretty cheek bruised red from a hit you took from her. Was it over? and was it your fault?

“We broke up.” to me, your words sounded tantalizing.

I had no idea what you expected me to do, or say, or react. “Why?” and I had no idea I shouldn’t have asked.

“I don’t know if I’m being honest with myself.” I didn’t want to believe what I was hearing, and I wish that would be the end of it. “Minjeong is a great person, I know I’m not. I wished I could’ve spared her the time, and returned her love the same way she gave it to me, but she’s not the one. I fell out, Y/n, I’m sorry.”

I shook my head, your sorry stinging my mind. “Why are you apologizing to me?”

You looked down for a while, eyeing the textures of the granite flooring. And I caught it, a single tear dropping down and landing in between your feet. “She’s your friend.”

I looked away from your swollen eyes, allowing the breeze to softly glide over the wisps of my lashes as I desperately searched for anything to reply, “You’re my friend too.” It would only pain me more when you kept apologizing, mumbling through your sobs. “Sungchan, stop apologizing.”

I was bewildered with the continuous apology, and why you chose to be this restless with me. But I guess you got me, even if I was tired, drained to the very bottom, I was still willing to catch the tears that swelled from your eyes with my shoulders.

Well of course, it was easy for others to see it as something else, and I had to remember I had a friend, a friend that wasn’t you.

“Minjeong, please, let’s talk—”

“I don’t want to fucking talk Y/n, there’s nothing for us to talk about.”

Did she think it was my fault? Was it my fault? Are there things I’m failing to see?

But I'm just a girl, Sungchan, I failed to push you away. I felt temporary, replaceable, but you needed someone by your side.

“Eunseok and I aren’t on good terms right now. He found out the truth.” I searched for it through your glossed eyes.

Was there, perhaps, some other truth? “Truth?”

“I don’t know what to do.” but I was in no place to tell you what to do either.

You were dodging bullets, but at that moment I was too preoccupied with swallowing the lump in my throat, trying to lure myself out of your poise.

I forgot what I had told you, but all I know is that I was seeing you more often than the times you used to retrieve packages for senior Kim, and senior Kim has been away for two years, graduated. Now we’re the seniors, a pair with a piteous reputation to those who have known us throughout our college years.

“We should make a movie together, you know.” you seemed too enthusiastic for your own good, but still, I chuckled.

“What are you thinking?”

“I mean, like an animation since you can draw, and you seem great with storytelling.”

Storytelling? never even gave it a thought. “Interesting. Let me think about it, I might just consider it.”

“Take your time.”

I never knew just how serious you were. I ended up taking my time too well, with you.

To look back at it, it isn’t too bad of a decision to create something I could look back on and carry for the rest of my life. You were my serendipity, it would only lead me to fall deeper, and I know how much it’ll hurt when it’s finally time for us to part.

So I guess, thank you, and fuck you for being so good to me, for leaving scars that would only burn when you were no longer in my reach. Your touch was my kryptonite, and your voice was my reason to force myself out of slumber. I’m so in love with you, but my pride would not allow me to.

A part of me still bathes in guilt. I lost friends for you, for a future I could only dream about.

“Where are you off to after college?” I tried to calm my pounding heart from the way your hand toyed with mine.

You spread out my fingers, your thumb softly rubbing against them, “Still thinking about our movie.”

Our movie, that’s funny. “How about a little life plan?”

“You go first, then I’ll tell you mine.”

What was the point, Sungchan? “I have two paths laid out for me, one’s for character design, and the other’s free-lance, you know it.” your fingers glide against the skin at the back of my hand, and in a blink the warmth of your palm spreads throughout my body as it rests on my skin.

“My turn, right?” you really had to pose it as a question, tilting your head at me, so obviously expecting an answer. I could only, and very languidly nod for I was getting myself drunk with your burning touch. “You know, I really want to work closer with you, so any decision I make, you’d probably see me at work.”

Perfection is a fucking lie.

Again I’d find myself slumping on my bed, thinking about how easy it was for you to run past me. Now you had all these opportunities waiting in line for you.

“They want me to act, do you think I’m fit for it? Do you think I can do it?”

If it’s that easy for you to leave, “Of course you can.”

It would’ve been nice if you were more honest, cause for a while you were drawing an outline of possibilities, possibilities of you and I, and not just me, me, me.

Until seeing you was barely a chance, I continued to refuse seeing through your honeyed gaze, afterall, I chose to love you too much, because either way, I had no choice but to let you go.

Now I sit alone, writing books about the love I never had. Such a pitiful soul I am. I was even oblivious of the many details of this story, because we never talked beyond the trivial things, never about how our eyes longed for each other, or how our hands found each other’s skin that would sear from the sensation, the friction.

You had moved out of town. I couldn’t bring myself to meet you at the train station for, possibly, the last time. I could only wish you luck through a poorly composed text message, three sentences long.

the lovers by rené magritte 💌

sorry i couldn’t meet you today, but i wish you all luck in the world. you deserve whatever you have going for you. i’m gonna miss you.

my robbie 🥀

thank you y/n

i have a feeling i’m gonna miss you more hahaha

I had to leave you on read. This time I choose to just not look back.

And it was for the better. It sure hurts to see you on Tv, to see you deny your dating history, “I’ve dated before, but I’ve never dated ‘the one’, needless to say, I wish I could meet her right now.” —I’ve read all the articles about that interview, that very statement of yours. How fascinating. Acting truly was for you. I could no longer see where we met in your eyes.

I wonder if you’ve read any of my books, if you had wondered if I ever did pursue a career where I could make use of my illustrative talents —it got me nowhere, but you were right, I can tell a heck of a story, and so I told the world hundreds of them.

Your foreshadowing of my future was a big stain I had to carry, and hide as an author. But I would keep writing without breaking even in the slightest bit.

Because I only loved you. I only wished, but never fully hoped, never really tried.

╔══════════════╗

“Hmm, are you sure you want this published?”

“I’m not gonna have it out as is, of course I have to build characters. I just wanted your thoughts. It would make for a good novel, right?”

You sat face to face with your publisher, Song Eunseok, to ask for his thoughts on this draft you made six years ago.

“It would —but you know, I’m quite surprised.” Eunseok wore a smirk on his face, one you couldn’t quite read through.

“Really? surprised?” a low chuckle escapes his mouth, very subtly shaking his head.

He had briefly glanced on the floor beside him, and when he looked back, almost all emotions he displayed were erased. “It wasn’t hard to tell you liked Sungchan, I knew, Minjeong knew.”

“Minjeong knew?” you almost lost your breath, heart racing from the tone of his voice alone.

“Well, not until she was convinced. She’s just as stupid as you were —I mean, no offense, you’re great, but you’re also quite self-absorbed. Take it with a grain of salt, but it’s the truth if you ask me.” you watched him pour himself a glass of whiskey, and he’d pour you one too knowing you’d need it. “They broke up because of you.”

He’d repeat the same motion, shaking his head and humming when the lines on your face started to show more. “Didn’t any of them tell you?”

“Tell me what, Eunseok?”

“Sungchan liked you too.” and there you would take your first sip of liquor. “You truly were too lost, weren’t you? you didn’t even notice the way he looked at you, and how he talked about you. Just a shame he didn’t tell you after the storm died down.”

The storm, their break up, the demise of your dignity. “Why didn’t he tell me?”

“I don’t know what he had in mind, why don’t you ask ‘your Robbie’.?” you rolled your eyes at his laughter that followed. “Cute nickname, where did ‘The Lovers by René Magritte’ come from?”

Pouring yourself more of the liquor, you’d softly laugh at yourself, looking back at that bitter memory. “I showed him my favorite artworks, ‘The Lovers’ happened to be one of them, and he said it’s so beautifully made, like me.”

“That sucks.”

“I know.”

You both laughed over your wretched past, how pathetic and wrong you were. You were glad you could now see through more than your own lens, it's a whole other journey to discover and open yourself up to empathy, and it felt like contentment to finally reach it.

“You received it, right?”

You looked him right in the eyes, smiling as you asked back, “The wedding invitation?” he hummed and nodded as an answer, “Of course. It’s what led me to finding that draft.”

He hummed again, head propped on his hands as he caught sight of your gaze, “We should go together, maybe we can ask Sungchan if he’s okay with the story.”

“And maybe we can get him to act for it when it’s turned into a movie.” his laughter grew louder, making you lightly hit his shoulder.

“Well, at least he could fulfill his wish of making a movie with you.”

“Oh shut up.”

He was quite… the experience. A love that was pure misery. If he wanted to, he would’ve, right? So does it truly matter if he likes you then?

You looked again at your draft, ink at certain spots were smudged, you remember being all tears as you wrote.

Sungchan was not your greatest love, but you’ve got to admit he’d led you to a place where your passion could only grow stronger. You could say that sometimes you missed the way he felt on your skin, but it would be just the memories itself, and not him, not anymore.

Perfection does not exist, and you had to go through all that trouble to convince yourself that it was him.

Who could blame you? you’ve never met anyone like him, and you never will again.

End.

just something very short and sweet for u :)) short question, is this a happy ending or not?

#riize #briize #riize fanfic #riize x reader #riize sungchan #jung sungchan #riize angst #angst

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yxngbxkkie · 1 year

Text

butterflies (h.h)

so, the song butterflies by isable larosa is absolutely wonderful, and her whole new album gives me hyunjin vibes. that's where this fic comes into play! i hope you guys like it! 💖

feedback is appreciated 🥰

college au, non-idol au, artist!hyune

You sit in your usual corner at the campus coffee shop, your laptop open in front of you. You're normally immersed in your schoolwork, but today you can't seem to focus. You tap your fingers against the table, glancing toward your now empty mug.

You low-key wish that the place had self-order kiosks, to save you from talking to the barista. You release a puff of air and glance around the shop.

"There are not too many people, but enough," you say to yourself with a frown.

Just get up and do it, Y/N. You think to yourself, trying not to think of the anxiety that's bubbling up in your stomach. You shuffle to the end of the booth you're sitting in before grabbing your empty cup.

You slowly walk up to the counter and set the ceramic mug on it. The barista that's standing on the other side of the counter looks up at you before smiling.

"Hi, Y/N. Would you like another hot chocolate?" The blonde asks in a friendly tone, shocking you a bit.

He knows my name?

"Y-Yeah, please," you stumble over your words, providing an awkward smile.

Your eyes shift down to his name tag, silently reading it. Felix. You pull your wallet out of your pocket before paying.

"Here's your receipt if you need it. I'll bring it over when it's ready," Felix tells you as you grab the flimsy piece of paper.

"Thank you," you whisper. You turn to head back to your table when you run into someone. "S-Sorry!"

You look up at the person you ran into and your breath hitches in your throat. His free hand rests on your arm, keeping you from falling backward.

"It's okay. I should've been paying more attention," he laughs while dropping his hand from your arm.

You clasp your hands together and nod your head. "I-I should've as well. If you'll excuse me," you dip your head and quickly walk back to your table.

Once you make it back to your booth, you toss your head back against the headrest. You place a hand on your heart and take deep breaths, hoping it'll calm down quickly.

Felix places your mug on the table, capturing your attention. "Here's your drink," he mentions softly, a smile on his lips.

"Thanks again, Felix," you manage to stay without stuttering, feeling a bit accomplished. Your gaze moves to the man you bumped into, noticing that he's drawing. "Who is that?"

The blonde looks over his shoulder before turning back to face you, the smile on his lips widening. "That's Hyunjin. He's an art student and a friend of mine," Felix informs you.

You repeat his name quietly, keeping your eyes on the dark-haired man. Hyunjin lifts his head and his eyes meet yours. You panic slightly and divert your gaze, bringing your attention back to Felix.

"He's pretty nice if you're interested in talking to him," he mentions with a smirk.

"N-No, that's fine," you dismiss the idea, waving your hands a bit. "I just - I haven't really seen him around before."

Felix lowers himself into the seat across the table before resting his chin against the palm of his hand. "Yeah, I told him to come. Well, I've mentioned to him that'd he like the place. He's always looking for inspiration for his drawings," he explains to you, waving his hand as he speaks.

"You're so nice," you mumble with furrowed brows.

"I have a friend who's similar to you," Felix says with a shrug. "Plus, you seem sweet."

Your cheeks blush and you drop your gaze to your lap. You grab a hold of your drink and take a small sip. You look towards Hyunjin again to see his cat-like eyes already on you.

He smiles at you before going back to his sketchbook. "I have to get back to work, but I think you should go say hi," Felix winks at you before going back behind the counter.

Me? Say hi to someone? Especially when that someone looks like him? You think to yourself while stroking the ceramic mug.

You don't take up Felix's advice and try to continue your schoolwork. You put your headphones back on before putting on a playlist that'll hopefully help you focus.

Hyunjin watches you from across the shop, tapping his pencil against the sketchbook. "I tried to get her to come to talk to you," Felix's voice snaps him from his daze, turning to face the blonde.

"She keeps to herself a lot, huh?" He asks his younger friend, adjusting his seating position. He tucks one foot under his leg before looking back down at the sketch he's working on.

"Yeah. She's like Jisung. She has a lot of anxiety," Felix tells him while setting the iced americano in front of him. "She's nice though. Even though she doesn't say a lot. You can tell through her actions."

"She's really pretty," Hyunjin hums, bringing his gaze back to you.

Felix clamps a hand onto his shoulder. "You should go talk to her," he tells him, gently squeezing his shoulder while doing so.

"Yeah, maybe when I finish this," Hyunjin glances up at Felix before looking down at the sketch of you. "I'm almost done."

"Get 'em, tiger!"

You're walking your usual route to the coffee shop when someone calls your name. You stop in your tracks before looking over your shoulder.

Hyunjin quickly makes his way to you, his backpack flinging in different directions. His smile is bright as he skids to a stop. "Hey, Y/N, right?" He asks as you stare at him in disbelief.

You quickly look around, wondering if he actually meant you. "Y-You mean me?" You ask him after finding no one else around.

"Yeah, you, hi," he greets with a chuckle.

"H-Hi," you stutter, feeling nervous.

"Are you going to the coffee shop?" Hyunjin questions as the two of you start walking again. You nod your head in response, hugging your laptop case to your chest. "I'm also heading there. Would you mind if I sat with you?"

What is happening? You think to yourself, finding yourself nodding to his question.

"I have something to give to you when we get there," Hyunjin mentions, causing you to lift your head.

"You do?"

He nods his head, smiling down at you. "I've seen you around campus and I've been meaning to talk to you, but every time I get the chance you are gone," he bashfully admits, bringing his free hand to the back of his neck.

Your heart pounds in your chest, and you halt your steps. "Is this a joke?" You ask him with furrowed brows.

"N-No, absolutely not," he stammers, holding a hand out to you. "I'm being a hundred percent serious. Here -"

You watch as Hyunjin quickly opens his bag, shuffling through it before pulling out his sketchbook. Your gaze shifts from the thick book to his face, noticing his lip tucked between his teeth.

He opens it up before showing you one of his drawings. A gasp comes from your lips as the drawing he's showing you is of you. Your cheeks blush as you take the sketchbook into your hands.

"You drew me?" You ask in a whisper, looking over at him through your lashes.

"Yeah," Hyunjin nods his head, combing his fingers through his hair. "I think you're really pretty."

Your heart flutters in your chest as your stomach does a couple of flips. "Can I keep it?" You ask quietly.

"Absolutely, yes, of course. I-I want you to have it," he mentions while reaching for the book, carefully tearing the finished portrait.

You thank him quietly and place it in your computer case, keeping it safe. "So, do you really think I'm pretty?" You question him as the two of you continue walking toward the coffee shop.

Hyunjin's cheeks are flushed when you look up at him. "Yeah, of course, I do. I wasn't lying," he mumbles, feeling a bit embarrassed.

Your stomach continues to do flips as you drop your left hand. His hand gently brushes against yours, causing your cheeks to blush.

"You make me nervous," you exclaim with a shy laugh. "But, at the same time, I wanna hold your hand."

The boy beside you grins before grabbing a hold of your left hand. "I'll be bold for you," he chuckles while stroking the back of your hand with his thumb.

You shyly smile at the ground and gently squeeze his hand in yours. Hyunjin lifts your conjoined hands before placing a soft kiss on the back of it, making your heart flutter.

"Would you want to go out to dinner sometime?" He asks you, his gaze moving to look at you.

"Y-Yeah, that sounds fun," you whisper loud enough for him to hear, the blush on your cheeks darkening.

"It's a date, then!"

tagging: @thewxntersoldier @reddesert-healourblues @spacegirlstuff @foxinnie8 @moon0fthenight

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cebwrites · 1 year

Text

handling an overly emotional partner (Law, Zoro, Bepo)

a/n: when i tell you i literally stopped mid-drawing to write this bc i didn’t want to lose the inspiration-- i’ve been fielding some shark week nonsense lately so i figured the best remedy would be some comfort fluff from my favorite boys, enjoyyyy 〒▽〒

masc reader, he/they law word count: 1.5k

Law

They are in NO way prepared to handle any of... this

Depending on what stage of life he’s in (especially when they were younger), Law might outright call the whole thing off - but typically they’d just hand you to Pen or Shach and go hide/ruminate in his room

It’s definitely something to get used to - but something worth doing if he’s already created a bond worth keeping with you

Realistically, Law would know; it’s not like you’d spring into a blubbering mess out of nowhere the moment you two started dating and it’s unlike them to just go on a date with a stranger on a whim

So he’d at least be aware of your emotional turbulence, and knowing that, would still fall in love with your little idiosyncrasies and personal charms - doesn’t make any of this that much easier though

Expect awkwardness, rigidity, your captain fighting the urge to flee like a skittish leopard cub, but above all please know that Law’s trying their best that they love you because by god they wouldn’t be doing this for anyone else

It’s important to note that they’d never make fun of you for this, even as a light hearted “joke” - you’re a sensitive guy, more than most, and that’s just how it is - nothing else to say about it

As they mature into adulthood and your relationship with him becomes far more comfortable Law drops the unease, they’re a lot less clumsy with your emotions and learn to navigate them with care because that is what they feel in their heart of hearts for you, after all

Something got too scary during movie night? Cuddle up close dear, he’ll hold you through the rough bits and kiss your forehead until it’s over or accompany you in your room if it’s more than you can handle

Breaking a glass? It wasn’t your fault and it’s not the end of the world, accidents happen and even though Law isn’t keen on the idea of you getting cut on those shards, they do find the odd bits of clumsiness here and there to be endearing - c’mon, he’ll help you pick up the pieces

You saw a baby animal or even Bepo doing something too cute and you absolutely can’t help yourself from tearing up? Well, that’s... oh come here already, you can weep into their shoulder but just don’t get snot on him, alright?

Zoro

Zoro is and can be a lot of things - pigheaded and woefully directionless at the worst and best of times

But he’s not stupid, at least not when it matters

He’s blunt and tactless, definitely, but Zoro’s somehow just had an inkling for sniffing out people’s inner feelings much like his captain

Not immediately, no, it does take some time; but once he feels that there’s something amiss, he comes right out with it

Zoro would get the feeling you were hiding something - your vulnerability, that was never really a secret when you joined the crew but as you took a growing interest in and once you were with him tried to diminish because you were afraid he’d think less of you for it - and after a day or two he’d ask

You’d try to divert from the topic, weasel your way out of talking about this before your tear ducts betrayed you, but soon your face would bear streaks and now Zoro really needed to know what was going on

He’d wait patiently as you explained yourself, bearing no judgement or even mild annoyance the more coherent your words became as you calmed down, furiously wiping your eyes and still avoiding his gaze, though

After you finished, he’d hold your shoulders gently, trailing his fingers up your arms in a wordless show of asking for the permission that you grant him easily, always

Zoro would be a little irked deep down, that this was the kind of man your (unconscious) mind thought him as, the kind of person that would turn his partner away just from a show of human emotion and some saltwater

For all his shows of machismo and overt masculinity, Zoro would never. Ever, question your manhood for crying. Sadness, joy, fear, and anger are all your feelings and you have full right to feel them. So what if your feelings move you intensely enough to tease?

Is it not masculine in and of itself to know one’s own heart and express it however he please? It’s more than most men he’s seen and Zoro’s more than happy to cut down anyone who has a problem with that.

Bepo

Two peas in a pod, you and Bepo, none on the ship are more alike than their resident youngest sweethearts

You’d both cry over anything and everything if possible - it goes without saying that Bepo would never judge you for being emotional either, and even on the very unlikely change that the sweetest, kindest bear you knew did harbor those feelings for what ever reason, well... glass houses and all

Cuddles are abundant between you, at first it’s to comfort after a lousy day, then it’s over crummy interactions, and eventually you just want an excuse to hold each other

You tear up at someone raising their voice at you but strangely feel an immediate heat in your chest when someone does the same or is just plain mean to Bepo, your soft-spoken, loving (not so) little Bepo

You try and stand up for him only to shrink and cling to your boyfriend when the offending party turns to glare at you so Pen, Shach, and/or Ikkaku have to step in, but the sentiment is greatly appreciated nonetheless

Bepo would simultaneously praise you for your bravery and downplay the need for protecting him, he is a big strong bear after all, and you’d tut - patting his nose to watch it scrunch up as you tell him that those people had no right to be talking that cruelly to him, so of course you have to defend your darling boyfriend

Bepo would blush and try to hide his big ol’ snout in the crook of your neck, rolling you both over onto the bed and sparking a fit of laughter in the process until your captain thwacks the wall dividing your room and their office with the end of a broom handle in a clear gesture to keep it down

Bepo won’t admit it, but he secretly finds you super cool when you defend him like that and it makes his heart do jumping jacks knowing you care for him like this; not that he doesn’t think you love him otherwise or won’t tell his boyfriend that he’s super cool for other reasons, it’s just this specific one

And Bepo gets his moment to shine one day when you’re on a walk with him one night, stars shining bright on this sleepy little town - a stray pup runs up to you and you can’t help but sob when the poor thing eats the food you buy it out of your palm, Bepo crouching alongside you but seemingly more frightened of the brave little puppy than it is of him because he doesn’t want to scare it away

While you smile and assure him that your new canine friend wasn’t going anywhere (no way Law was going to let a dog into the Tang, though), an older man stumbles out of the local tavern hurling insults about crybabies among other things as he staggers towards you

Before he can get within a meter of you, however, Bepo stands back and bellows the loudest roar you’ve ever heard come out of him, let alone sound

Although the two of you have to book it once the rest of the neighborhood wakes up with their pistols thinking it’s another snow beast attack, you’re laughing the entire way back to the ship and once Bepo stops covering his face in embarrassment, you’ll replace those lovely paws with your kisses

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callmissrogers · 3 months

Text

She Thinks I'm Handsome. Steve Rogers x Reader Short Story

Summary: Y/n is terribly tipsy. Having only had one margarita, Nat texted Steve to come take her home. Y/n's tipsiness makes her admit something to Steve. Something she didn't mean to say out loud.

Warnings: mentions alcohol, reader being tipsy, and lots of fluff. Wrote on my phone with little editing.

Word count: 1,034

Inspired by: pin and a scene in the movie New In Town with Rene Zellweger, but I couldn't find it on YouTube.

Y/n couldn't stop giggling at the dinner table. Everything was just hilarious.

"Y/n you only had one margarita.... Are you sure you're ok?" Nat asked, sitting back in her chair, eyes wide with concern.

"I'm mine. I mean time. I MEAN I'm fine." Y/n replied, giggling at her own inability to speak coherently.

"Yeah. Sure you are. I told you this was a terrible idea." Nat whispered to Wanda.

"She told me she wanted to come! Besides, how is it my fault that she's a lightweight?" Wanda argued as if Y/n wasn't sitting right there.

"I am not a lightweight! I'm good." Y/n protested like a child not getting the sweets it wanted.

"Of course you are. You definitely aren't talking like someone who's done 20 wisky shots." Nat answered sarcastically.

"What are we gonna do? My car only has two seats. Unless we tape you to the roof." Wanda asked in a whisper. "I've got an idea." Natasha said conspiratorially, taking her phone out. "Who are you texting?" Wanda asked, an eyebrow rasing. "You know who," Nat said in a sing-song way. "You can not text him!" "Why not? They need a push." "She's about to fall over. " "Good. Let him play knight in shiny armor." "You know this wasn't I meant when I said we should set them up." "Well, it's what we're doing. He already responded and said he's on his way. Way too much of a gentlemen to abandon a maid in distress." "You are having way too much fun with this." Wanda sighed, leaning on her hand.

A few minutes later, y/n was trying to explain something to the girls, grabbing random bits and pieces of information and giving it to them as of it should all make sense.

The door to the cozy little restaurant opened and he walked inside. Spotting them easily and coming over to collect Y/n. Her back was to him so she had no idea of his presence.

Nat and Wanda remained completely silent as he approached giving him knowing and teasing looks. Nat mouthed "get her out" to which he couldn't help but smile.

It wasn't till he placed a gentle hand on y/n's shoulder that she noticed him at all.

"Steve!" She gasped much too loudly and drawing the attention of some of the other guests. "I didn't think you'd be here!" She said wobbling to her feet and throwing her arms around his neck. She'd never done that before. They've never exchanged any sort of hug before. So he shot the other two a look of complet and utter shock as his face turned three shades of pink.

"How much did y'all let her drink?" He demanded. "Steve. She had one margarita." Wanda deadpanned. Steve looked at Y/N and back to them, his brows raised in amazement. "Just one?" He asked. "One. And it wasn't even that big." Nat replied, lips forming into a smirk. "Wanda only has two seats in her car, and I road with her. So I figured you'd be happy to get Y/n home safely." She continued.

Steve put an arm around Y/n's shoulder in an attempt to steady her, grabbing her coat off the back of the chair, he said "c'mon. Let's get you home." "But I don't wanna!" She complained. "Y/n, you should go with Steve. We're gonna head out too." Wanda assured her. "Fine." She whispered/mumbled letting him guide her out.

Once they were outside the resturant she looked around wildly. "Where's your car?" "It's down the block. I couldn't find a spot here." "Oh. Where's my coat?" "That's right here." He answered holding it up to help her get into it. "Watch your hands. Mr Handys Hands." She slurred. "I'm. I'm not doing anything." Steve said blushing again.

She took a few steps forward and then stumbled into the street some. "Wait, wait, wait. My car isn't over there, " He spoke, quickly pulling her back.

"I'm fine. I'm fine." She assured him, walking along again, taking wobbly but somewhat straight steps.

Steve rubbed the back of his neck nervously and followed after her.

"Ok," He said after they had walked just a little bit further. "My car is right there"

Then she dashed up to a car that somewhat resembled his and started rapidly pulling on the handle causing the car alarm to go off.

"That. That wasn't my car." Steve said sounding embarrassed.

He used his key for, unlocked his car, before softly grabbing her by the arm and getting her seated inside. Taking a deep breath before coming round to get himself. He was gonna get Natasha for this. She had been teasing him about his growing affection for Y/n for months. She was trying to push his hand.

The drive home wasn't as crazy as the walk to the car had been. Y/n sat starring out the window commenting on the pretty city lights, how she liked the outfits of some of the pedestrians they passed, and got very excited when they stopped next to a car which had a Scottish Terrier in it.

He couldn't help smiling he was actually enjoying the drive with her.

When they finally pulled up to her house, he got out and came around to help her out. Not trusting that she'd be able to get out of the car and onto the curb without tripping.

Arm around her shoulder, he helped her to the door. Where she struggled to get the key into the lock. "Here," He said trying to take the key from her. "I got it. I got it." She said trying again to get the key go in. "Let me help." He said gentily taking it from her.

She finally looked up at up him and whispered "Gosh. You're handsome," pausing, her lips forming an O shape. "I just said that out loud, didn't I?"

Steve smiled broadly, "Yes. Yes, you did."

So he helped her inside and made sure she was settled with a glass of water and aspirin for the morning and then went home himself.

Whispering to himself, "She thinks I'm handsome."

(I know I haven't posted the next part in That's My Girl. Got a bit of writers block as to how to finish the chapter. I'll try to have it done by Wednesday. )

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godsmenusuperbowl · 10 months

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Stress Coloring ~ *Bang Chan*

Summary: Both you and Chris need a break. And what better way to spend a break than by coloring together? It’s very therapeutic.

Pairing: Bang Chan X G/N!Reader

Genre: Fluffyish Drabble

Word Count: 804

Warning: A tiny bit of crying but it’s resolved quickly

Masterlist

Taglist: @foxwinter @maeleelee @mxnsxngie @kpop-will-kill-me

A/N: What do we do when we have strong feelings and yet are so exhausted to properly convey them? We write. And we hand write when our eyes are too puffy from allergies to open all the way. So my hand hurts.

As soon as he walked through the door and saw that the light was still on, he sighed. They must be tired. Carefully and quietly, Chris slipped off his shoes, put his keys and wallet away, and hugged them from behind.

They hummed in response, leaning into his embrace. Amongst the mess of notes, outlines, and assorted pens and highlighters, they had their markers and coloring pages out. There was a half finished piece and a completed mandala on top of everything. Shades of orange and yellow mixed with the pinks and purples to create almost a sunrise scene. It was very ethereal and serene. It also reflected that they could really use a break right about now.

Kissing their cheek, Chris asked, “Need any help?”

“No.” They shook their head.

“Then do you mind if I join you?”

Again, they shook their head before flipping through their coloring book. It was sort of a tradition here. Whenever one or both of them needed a break, they would bust out their vast array of coloring books and coloring supplies. Sometimes, when they were less tired, the two of them would use crayons and make Kindergarten drawings of the other. If they needed more inspiration, there was a stack of canvases and acrylic paints in the back of their closet that was always well stocked. But when they were stressed out and tired, markers or colored pencils did the trick. They weren’t the only one needing relief tonight, which was why he asked to color too.

Chris finally selected one before saying, “What colors do you see?”

It’s not that he wasn’t creative; on the contrary, the two often joked that he had all the artistic ability in the relationship. But everytime they saw an uncolored black and white page, they knew exactly how they wanted it to look. So he let them decide the colors for him. It always made him smile when they carefully selected each color.

They shook their head. “Not colors this time. I see a style, a theme.”

“Oh yeah? What’s your vision?”

“Wizard of Oz.”

Chris nodded as they laid out each color of marker, explaining what each color represented. As they did so, he glanced back at what they were coloring. Besides the completed sunrise mandala, the half-finished piece looked like a hodgepodge of random colors. It wasn’t like their normal style.

So he pointed it out. “What are you coloring?”

They paused, reflecting on their work. Eventually they said, “My thoughts and feelings.”

He nodded again before taking his markers and sitting in the chair opposite of their desk. Carefully scrutinizing each color and the empty picture before him, he tried to envision the Wizard of Oz the same way they did. Eventually he managed to figure something out and he began coloring.

About twenty minutes in, Chris was about halfway done when he heard them heave a dejected sigh. Looking up, he noticed a tear slowly crawling down their cheek. Abandoning his paper and markers to drop onto the floor, he spun their chair so that they were now facing him. Using the pads of his thumbs, he wiped their tears, cupping their face as he did so.

“Hey, look at me.” Chris breathed as their eyes, still glittering with tears, found his. “You’re okay. You’re going to be okay. I promise.”

Slipping out of their desk chair, they hugged him tightly. “It’s just so much piling up out of practically nowhere.”

Stroking their hair, he kissed their cheeks. “I know love, I know. But you can get through this. One day at a time, just like we always say. Besides, you know I’ll always be there when stress coloring isn’t enough.”

Pulling away, they wiped their eyes and nose. Chris got them a tissue to help. Sniffing, they asked, “Promise?”

Smiling, he kissed their lips before pressing his forehead to theirs. “Of course I promise. What kind of boyfriend would I be if I wasn’t?”

They laughed before slowly crawling back into their desk chair. Blowing their nose once more, they gave him a small smile to let him know they were okay now. With a soft nod, he settled back into his own chair and got to work coloring again.

It was another thirty minutes later when they presented their art to each other. They nodded before giving him a bright, albeit tired smile. “It’s definitely Wizard of Oz.”

“Yours is a lovely hodgepodge as well.”

The two of them laughed before they shyly added, “I’m also halfway done with my essay as well.”

Chris perked up even more, his smile stretching wider. “See? I told you you could do it. I’m so proud of you, love!”

Again, they chuckled before they returned to their coloring book. Ripping out another page, they asked, “Another?”

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okiedokrie · 2 months

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High Infidelity (TEASER)

Characters/Pairing(s): Xu Minghao (The8) x F!Reader

Genre: Smut, Angst, Fluff

AUs/Trope info: Non-idol!AU, Aged-Up!AU, Right Person (not) Too Late

Word Count: 882 for this teaser (estimated 8-10k final fic)

Warnings: Infidelity, very inappropriate conversations with a married woman, tipsy sex (not drunk), minghao smokes, smut warnings in actual fic

Rating: 18+

A/N: banner and dividers by @daesukiii!! tysm!! This is also a rewrite/reupload of my own fic, "High Infidelity" on @pyeonghongrie, yes I reskinned my own fic.

FULL FIC HERE

The rain soaked into your skin, cold and icy piercing you painfully. All your personal belongings were strewn all around you, your soon ex-husband angrily slamming the door shut, but you can't feel but be relieved.

After all, you were finally free.

"Y/N, you still haven't dealt with the dishes yet." Your husband, Haru, said monotonously just as you were starting to gain momentum in your writing.

You groan, the interruption making you lose focus and motivation to write. You stare at the last word on your document, gaze burning into each pixel as if hoping that this piece would write itself.

Unfortunately, life said, "Fuck you."

With another groan, you rub and pinch the bridge of your nose, a headache starting to settle in as your husband returns to work as if he didn't just cause you a serious inconvenience.

Standing from your comfortable computer chair, you take calm and even strides toward your kitchen, where only a handful of dishes are left in the sink.

And this little shit didn't even bother washing like, what? 8 dishes? he has to be kidding me, men.

You thought to yourself, your inner monologue only making yourself more irritated. But you wash them in silence, thinking of ways to calm down and clear your head so you have a clean slate to work with to get inspired again.

I think I should visit the gallery again, there's this new artist that I've been following. He's getting pretty popular, maybe I could draw inspiration from his work?

You think maybe this is the best idea you've had since you put bacon bits on mac & cheese.

Taking the time to visit this gorgeous gallery was the correct move.

One thing about Minghao's work is that his subjects are also subjects of passion.

Paintings of a man's devotion to worshiping his lover's skin, a stained glass recreation of The Birth of Venus by Botticelli, and his latest masterpiece, simply titled "Passion", a sculpture of a woman in the throws of pleasure, with her lover holding her close to him, no gap between their skin, eternally locked in a passionate embrace.

As a romance writer, this is exactly what you need.

You stare in awe at this piece for a little over 20 minutes, the more you look at it, the more entranced you become of the mastery of this craft.

"I'm Minghao, by the way, Xu Minghao. If you haven't already figured it out." He takes a hand out of his pocket, extending it towards you.

"Oh, I'm Y/N, Park Y/N. It's a pleasure to meet you, Minghao. Your exhibit is astounding, I love your dedication to your work." You take his hand to shake it,

He chuckles at the compliment, "Oh please, save your praise, I know that name from anywhere. I love your latest work, that book was what inspired this entire collection, to begin with."

You gawk at him, oh my god, he reads smut. My smut.

He smiles, perfect teeth on display, you swear you never looked at a man like this in your life. You were down bad for his smile.

You ponder on this for a bit. Going out to drinks with a budding friend wouldn't hurt, right?

"Could I give you my number? Let's set aside a day to chat. I have to get home to my husband before it gets too late."

A smirk came into his face, something dark about a seemingly insignificant change in his expression, “Of course, I look forward to our time together.”

Taglist: None yet! Send an ask, reply, or reblog to be added!

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tinytinyblogs · 10 months

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Hyunjin In Love With You

Love

(n.) Giving the last piece of pizza no matter how much you want it.

Stray kids masterlist here

Hyunjin loved art. He loved the way that he could mix colors to create new and beautiful shades. He loved the way that he could let his feelings flow through his art, and create something that was truly unique. He loved to draw everything that he found beautiful. He would draw flowers, landscapes, and even people. He loved the way that he could capture the beauty of the world around him in his art.

Hyunjin loved to walk around and draw anything that caught his attention. He would often spend hours wandering the streets, looking for inspiration. One day, he was walking through the park when he saw you. You were sitting on a bench, enjoying the day and letting the wind touch your skin. You looked so perfect, and Hyunjin was immediately drawn to you. He sat down on a bench across from you and started to draw. He captured the way the sun was shining on your hair, the way the wind was blowing through your clothes, and the way the smile on your face lit up the whole park.

Hyunjin finished his drawing and looked up, but you were gone. He had been so focused on his work that he hadn't noticed you walking away. He felt disappointed, but he knew that he would never forget you. He put the drawing in his sketchbook and took it home. He looked at it every day, and it always made him smile. He thought about the way you had looked when he was drawing you, and he felt a sense of peace.

Hyunjin was walking around the city, looking for inspiration for his art. He had been walking for hours, and he was starting to get discouraged. He was about to give up when he saw you. You were walking across the street, and you looked so familiar. Hyunjin stopped and stared at you, trying to remember where he had seen you before. Then it hit him. You were the one he had drawn in the park. He had been looking for you ever since.

He was amazed that your presence always made him feel much better. No matter what he was going through, as soon as he saw you, he felt a sense of calmness wash over him. Hyunjin was so excited to learn that you lived nearby. He started walking around not only to find inspiration, but he would also find you and admire you from afar. He loved the way you moved, the way you laughed, and the way you looked at the world. You were his muse, and he couldn't help but be inspired by you.

He would often find himself walking past your house, just so he could catch a glimpse of you. He would watch you from the window, or he would sit on a bench across the street and just watch you go about your day. He never said anything to you, though. He was too shy, and he didn't want to scare you away. But he knew that he would never forget you. You were the most beautiful person he had ever seen, and he was so grateful that he had found you.

He had a few drawings of you already, and they were all perfect. He felt proud that he could capture your beauty in a way that no one else could. He knew that the paint made his art perfect, but he also knew that your beauty was already mesmerizing.

Hyunjin was getting ready for his exhibition. He had been working on this for few months, and he was finally ready to show it to the world. He had invited all of his friends and family, and he was so excited to see their reactions. He had also invited you. You were the one who had inspired him to start drawing again, and he wanted to share his art with you. He had sent you a special invitation, and he was hoping that you would come. You were a little bit surprised when a very handsome man suddenly approached you and gave you a special invitation for an exhibition.

You have always been my muse in my art. You are the one who inspires me to create my best work. You are the one who makes me want to be a better artist.

I hope that you will come and see how beautiful you are in my point of view. I want you to see how I see you, how I capture your beauty in my art. I want you to see how you inspire me.

Hwang Hyunjin

his name Hwang Hyunjin. You had never noticed the handsome boy around you before, but now he was standing in front of you, telling you that you were his muse. You were stunned. You had never thought of yourself as beautiful, but Hyunjin seemed to think so. You smiled at him, and he smiled back. "You really are beautiful when you smile," he said. You promised that you would, and then he left you blushing. You couldn't believe that Hyunjin thought you were beautiful.

The day finally came, and you showed up to Hyunjin's exhibition. You were amazed by his skill, and all the art on the wall really brightened up the gallery. You were so proud of him, and you were so glad that you had come. You walked around the gallery, admiring Hyunjin's art. You saw paintings, sculptures, and even a few drawings. You were so impressed by his talent, and you couldn't believe that he had created all of this.

You finally came to the special side of the gallery. There were a few drawings on the wall, and you couldn't believe your eyes. They were all of you. You were so touched. Hyunjin had drawn you, and he had captured your beauty perfectly. You couldn't believe how beautiful the drawings were. You stood there for a long time, just looking at the drawings. You couldn't believe that Hyunjin thought you were beautiful enough to draw. You felt so special. He named that painting as "My Muse".

"It's beautiful right?" You turned around to see him standing not too far from you, wearing a suit. He looked so perfect in it, and you felt your heart skip a beat. He paused for a moment, and then he said, "I really wanted to show you the drawing at first, but you had already walked away. You have no idea how happy I was when I found out you lived nearby. I don't mean to sound like a creep, but your presence really made my day when I thought I wouldn't be able to open this gallery. I was scared you wouldn't come today, but I'm so glad you're here. You look amazing as always." You stood there for a moment, just looking at each other. You could feel the connection between you, and you knew that this was something special. "I'm so glad I found you," he said.

He took a few steps closer, really close to you. He admired your beauty for a while, and then he said, "I've been admiring you from afar for a long time. I've realized that I'm falling for you. Can you give me a chance to know you more and maybe we can be more than friends?"

He didn't care about the other people passing by, admiring his work. He was too busy looking into the eyes of his crush. He knew that he wouldn't be able to look away. you had captured his heart.

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funkyspacealien · 7 months

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Rabbit of the Night He'll suck the orange out of your carrots (Sketches n' processes under the break! It's a REAAAAAL long one)

I've been meaning to draw a piece that actually includes a background instead of a character standing in the void. The issue that arises is that... I just didn't have any good ideas for backgrounds, lol. Partially the issue is that I tend to design the character first, which makes it challenging to draw stuff around them. Since around the time that I made this piece was October and the big holiday was Halloween, I figured I could do something within the theme. I've been meaning to draw my character, Nosferatu, again since they have always been one of my lowkey favorites of mine.

An older piece of the character, which you can see with the others here The character was quite macabre, which made it perfect for doing something slightly spooky. The cape also gave me a great idea for making something more visually striking, as well.

My first attempt. As you can see, I tried to do a thumbnail this time so I can have a better understanding of the amount of space I have to work with. I highly recommend that you do something similar if you struggle with doing backgrounds. Though, I think I ought to make it a bit more square, lol. I had to tweak some things to fit within the standard square shape since I drew everything at a wonky angle. I was inspired by Soul Eater and Majora's Mask when it comes to the background design, especially with the moon having a prominent appearance. I knew that was a consistent thing I wanted to keep throughout the iterations. The flowing cape was heavily inspired by Spawn and the artwork of Lelouch from Code Geass

I always found it to be such a striking iconography for the characters. Despite being an inanimate piece of clothing, it adds a lot to the design. Spawn was always an intimidating dude, but having that cape overwhelms the viewer and takes up so much screen space every time he wears it helps give him more of an otherworldliness. You may not truly understand who or what is he, but you may get the vibe that he's someone with great power and importance. It's befitting of someone who is viewed as the best spawn of the devil. I find it also interesting for a character like Lelouch. Now, I never watched the show he came from, only understood the basic premise from various sources throughout my life. Pardon if my read on the character is incorrect, but to me, he's quite the scrawny guy and perhaps lacks power of his own. Despite this, he runs a rebellion and goes under the alias of "Zero". He dresses up as Zero, including the cape. With it on, his form became much more imposing yet concealed. It gives him a sense of royalty, which you might attribute to the likes of Kings or Queens. Someone with power. Sorry for that brief character analysis tangent, lol. It's just something that I thought about when creating the character of Nosferatu. I find it interesting that something so simple as a cape can help give a feeling of power. It's something that I feel everyone subconsciously think of and not realize. Back on topic, the rest of the composition I wasn't super satisfied with. I sorta lean into the "Dracula" look the character had by having the castle in the background, but I think it came off as very flat. I also thought it made things visually unclear. A bunch of things off in their own corner instead of organic guiding the viewer's eyes. I scrapped the first idea and tried to go in another direction.

I had the idea of being underneath an overpass and having buildings being lit by the moon. I don't think it was too bad of an idea, but I had trouble refining it and making it more "full", if that makes sense? This had a weird sense of emptiness and dragged the composition down for me. Perhaps if I drew the character differently and played more with the perspective, it would've been better. I went back to my original idea and checked if I could improve some things on a base level.

Originally, I had the cape go off-screen but checking my original inspiration, like various art pieces of Spawn, I noticed that the cape "ends" tend to curve back into the frame. I decided to do something similar which I think helped give the piece a sense of "flow" to it. I found that it also gives a composition more layers of depth and fills in any "empty" spaces that I had worried about before. I tilted Nosf's head a bit so they weren't just standing there stiffly as well. Sometimes it's the little things that help improve the piece than having to redo it all over again.

Finally, I just decided to make the background more on the simple side. I think I had the issue of really wanting to prove myself that I could do backgrounds that I made it way more complicated than it needed to be. It gave me the chance to make the moon much bigger, which I always meant to be a striking aspect of the piece. When drawing, I decided to forgo the "ground" that the cliffs are on since I felt it cluttered up the piece with too many colors. Now, I just got to finish it!

I should be done, right? Well, not exactly. While I think it looks nice (I'm personally proud of my use of noise filters), it just still lacks the depth that I'm looking for. Something about it is too bright and clear. I went back and experimented some more until I found a solution that made me feel stupid not realizing it before, lol. So initially, I tried to use this photo editing program called "Picsart". I used to use it a lot when I was doing digital art since I like the added filters. I eventually stopped because it would ruin the image quality. I thought they fixed that issue, but it's still the same.

It's a bit subtle in this picture, but I like to use the "vintage" filter since I like the added shadows on the sides of the images. The problem is that the quality got ruined and I'm very stubborn about keeping it in the nicest resolution possible. I decided to see if I could replicate it in my own art program. What I discovered is that I can and the solution was very simple, lol. First I drew a square with a solid color on a new layer-

Then I used the "Gaussian Blur" Filter-

I turned down the opacity, set the blending to "burn" and overlaid it on the artwork, which gave the depth I was looking for!

I gave the head some slight shading too since the filter unintentionally gave it to their ears. Good call since I think that helped with the Halloween atmosphere I was intending.

#oc #artwork #character design #my art #original work #luchador #halloween #rabbit #furry #nosferatu #I meant to post this 3 hours ago but the write up became super long lol #also i should've posted this on halloween WHOOPS

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erixyin · 2 years

Text

Poison Running Through My Veins | Part 1

Another Eddie Munson x reader fic! I'm sorry it took so long but I had no inspiration for ages and then BOOM all of the sudden and I'm like okay guess I'm writing until midnight.

And I'm introducing my other red flag of a man, Billy Hargrove. Yes. He's alive in this okay and no I don't care about canon right now.

Summary/ Idea: Eddie sees you in school parking lot being very close with your ex. Jealousy and angst ensues.

I swear this was supposed to be a fun little idea and it just ended up turning into this. Whatever this is.

Warnings: Eddie Munson x fem!reader, using she/her pronouns, no mention of Y/N, Billy Hargrove is alive, Steve Harrington being a parent and doing damage control, jealousy, angst, pain, tension, little bit of billy hargrove x reader, violent tempers, Eddie be angry and jealous, reference to a Losing Sight of You, argument, possessive!eddie, highly jealous!eddie, crying, so much fucking angst, lmk if I've forgotten any.

Sorry if any errors, I haven't proofread it yet but when I do, I'll edit it properly.

No minors allowed please and thank you.

Words: 3332

I think that's everything :)

Please do not repost anywhere, I will be posting this on my AO3 and putting link here.

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4

Eddie leaned against the side of his van, arms crossed and body slumped hard against the back door. He was trying his hardest not to stare, really, he was. He fidgeted with his rings. He shoved his hands in his pockets. Then crossed his arms. Looking up at the sky, looking to the rest of the parked cars in the school parking lot. He was trying to not stare.

But every time, his eyes would drag back to the same spot he had been staring at for over 15 minutes. His leg bounced as he crossed his arms again. Fighting the urge to draw attention to himself and smack his fist against the van, he shoved his hand into his back pocket to get a smoke. Cursing as his lighter refused to light. "Fucking come on you stupid piece of crap" he muttered, baring his teeth as he grimaced.

"Munson, you alright?"

He almost jumped out of his skin as Steve tapped his shoulder. Eddie swallowed his scream but mouthed 'Jesus H Christ' as he dropped the cigarette that was in his hand, reaching into his back pocket for another one. Eyes flickering back to their original location before, going back to successfully lighting his cigarette and taking a deep drag.

Steve looking at Eddie's obviously flustered state in pure confusion. "Seriously, what is up with you-" Steve followed Eddie's line of sight and let out a small "ah" before falling silent himself and putting his hands on his hips disapprovingly.

Robin coming up to the side of Steve and gagging at the smell of smoke. Then her eyes almost bulging out of her skull at the parking lot, "Holy shit! When did Billy Hargrove get out of hospital??" Instinctively she looked to Steve for answers, but when she was met with an uncomfortably loud silence, she paused.

"Long enough to be chatting up my girlfriend" Eddie spat, quickly finishing the cigarette he only lit a few minutes ago to then scrummage through his pocket for another. As soon as another one was in his hand, Robin snatched it out of his grip.

"Dude, he's not chatting her up. They just used to date" she shrugged unbothered and threw the cigarette away. Turning back to see Steve staring at her like 'why did you do that' and Eddie looking like he was torn between throwing up and killing a man.

"They used to date?!" he hissed, trying to lower his voice. He was aware that the parking lot was practically empty but still.

Steve massaged his temples, "Yeah before the Star Court Mall situation" Eddie grinded his teeth and raked his hand through his hair, wincing slightly at the pain. "Honestly though dude, you shoulda known. It was big news throughout the whole school, Dustin never told you?"

Eddie paused at that. Maybe Dustin did tell him, but he didn't listen because he didn't pay you any attention until the last year of high school. But he remembered one thing. You had definitely never brought it up. You never even mentioned Billy Hargrove. You just mentioned that you had dated someone else before Eddie and frankly, Eddie was delighted. He knew that whoever your ex had been it wasn't something you talked about much. Eddie took that as you didn't think there wasn't much to talk about. Which meant you didn't have any high expectations when it came to dating him. But you still hadn't ever brought up just who your ex was or how it had ended. And that was what was eating him up inside. Especially since he had to hear it from someone else.

He turned his attention back to you and him chatting. Honestly, he wasn't sure why he was getting so worked up over nothing. You were just chatting to him. Sure you had the brightest smile on your face when you had ran over to him, pausing in mid conversation to see a black car pull over in the school parking lot and a tall figure step out. You still had the same smile on your face when the figure had walked over to you, clearly in pain but pushing through. The same smile on your face when he returned it. The same smile when you looked to the ground as Billy winked at you, and Eddie knew you were blushing.

"Munson, you can't take Billy in a fight so don't even try it" Steve said stealing Eddie's concentration. Eddie knew it was in case you looked back and saw how upset he was. Maybe this was why you had never brought it up. He raised his eyebrow at Steve. "Trust me, I tried." Steve said shuddering as he remembered the fight that seemed like forever ago.

"She never brought him up with me" Eddie admitted. Looking at the sky, blinking quickly, running his hand through his hair again. In the however many months you two had been dating and a year of friendship beforehand, you hadn't brought it up once. Robin and Steve gave each other a look.

"It wasn't an easy relationship" Robin offered. She knew the things you had told her. But equally she couldn't let Eddie suffer like this. "She ended it and they stayed close friends" She bit her lip looking at Steve for help.

"How close?" Eddie growled as he watched you stand on your tip toe and lean into a hug with Billy fucking Hargrove. One of his hands on upper waist, lower back, the other is slightly higher up holding you firm against him and yours around his neck.

Energy and rage rattling around inside him, feeling like he was either gonna explode or faint. So, he channelled his rage and as confidently as he could, held himself tall and started walking over. Robin elbowing Steve to catch his attention and he whipped round and saw Eddie striding towards you two. Steve quickly caught u to him, practically running towards you, and clapped his hand on Eddie's back basically telling him to 'cool the fuck down'.

As they got closer Steve called out to you, "Yo man! When did you get out of hospital?" Hearing this, you quickly separated yourself from Billy. Billy didn't let go of you as quickly and let his hands linger on you for a little longer. Your heart did a weird somersault when you turned and saw Steve and Eddie walking towards you. Seeing Eddie's face, you knew it wasn't good, but you pushed those feelings down. As Billy's hand slid down your back, the small shiver that seeped through you, you know Eddie saw.

"You still fucking here Harrington?" Steve rolled his eyes. "And who are you?" Billy scoffed pulling a cigarette out from behind his ear. You inwardly sighed. You knew Billy was deliberately pissing off Eddie. You knew he knew who Eddie was.

Sending a small look to Billy you jumped in before Eddie could retort, "This is my boyfriend, Eddie Munson. You know the guy I told you about, he has a band" You smiled your brightest smile.

"Yeah Corroded Coffin, we play Metallica covers and original songs" Eddie said puffing out his chest a little. He was nothing compared to Billy, even though Billy had been in hospital for months and not near his workout gear for ages. You tentatively tried to stand near Eddie but doing so you ended up being closer to Billy. Not what you had intended.

Eddie slung his arm around you, heavy and tight and you almost toppled over at the sheer aggression of the action. Confused by Eddie's tough guy pretention, you completely missed the way Billy smirked and raised his eyebrows at Steve. Steve just looked like he wanted to really not be there. You glanced behind you seeing Robin with the rest of the kids. You could see there was a discussion going on but you couldn't obviously hear. You just knew it wasn't good with the way Max was looking at you four.

When you thought the testosterone levels were going to explode, the words ended up falling out of your mouth before you could stop them, "We have a gig on Friday, you could come if you wanted to...?" You hadn't meant it to sound like a question and you're not sure why you asked but you'd done it now.

"We? You in the band too?" Billy asked, curiousity twinkling in his eyes and the grip on your shoulder tightened.

"Yeah, the lead singer and Eddie's the guitarist" Steve said trying to quickly end the conversation. He noticed your wince in pain as Eddie's grip on you continued to tighten. Steve gave Eddie a look, but it appeared that Eddie ignored him.

"You're sleeping with the lead guitarist? You're moving up in the world, my girl" At the pet-name you froze and smiled awkwardly, not knowing what to do. Billy was grinning, knowing full well what an absolute shit he was being. Fucking bastard.

Eddie hadn't said a word, but he didn't have to from the way his entire body tensed.

Oh shit

"Anyways. We gotta be going, rehearsal and all that." Eddie said with a tight smile, pulling you away from Billy. You stumbled backwards slightly at the sudden movement and almost fell.

"It was nice seeing you Billy" you managed to say before being dragged away for good. Steve on the other side of you in case you accidentally fell over again.

"See you around doll" You heard Billy call after you. You saw Max walk past you as he yelled, "Oi shithead! Get in the car!" with less animosity than before the Star Court Mall fire but still not with much warmth either.

It was going to be an interesting drive home...

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The car ride home was silent. Not even turning on Metallica or Iron Maiden helped the situation. Eddie had ejected the tape and shoved it into his side door pocket mid-way through the song.

You had opened your mouth to speak but got shut down real quick, "Not now" was all Eddie said. His voice remained levelled and calm, which only scared you more.

It was only when he pulled up outside his trailer did you wish you could return to the silence.

"Billy Hargrove, huh" he started. It was phrased as a statement rather than a question, so you didn't answer. He turned to finally look at you and you could see the wildfire behind his eyes. You had never seen Eddie like this. You swallowed and slowly undid your seatbelt.

"When were you gonna tell me that your last ex-boyfriend was Billy fucking Hargrove? The biggest asshole that ever showed up to Hawkins High." Eddie locked the car doors as you tried to reach for the door handle. Oh no.

You didn't usually have big explosive fights. The last fight you had that was this big was when he had been keeping it a secret that he had been doing drug deals and meeting up with Chrissy Cunningham - when both of you knew full well, that he used to have a crush on her since middle school.

"You never asked" you shrugged your shoulders. You knew that wasn't the answer he was looking for, but it was the most straightforward one. Because it was the truth. He hadn't ever asked or pressed further about your past relationship.

"I had to find out from Steve and that was after you had run off to be all flirty with him"

That made your blood boil, "What is that supposed to mean? I wasn't being flirty, you idiot! I was happy that he was finally out of hospital. I was there at Star Court Mall too ya know!" Huffing you put your head in your hands. Completely shocked that you were even having this conversation right now.

"Oh yeah sure that's what we're calling it." He smacked the side of the driving wheel making you almost jump. Eddie talked with his hands, but he never hit things. You started feeling uneasy and trapped.

You ran your hands down your face and tried to keep yourself calm. You knew Eddie would let you out once he had calmed down a bit. You just had to get him there. "Oh my god what is going on? I love you - you absolute dumbass! I'm with you, I sleep with you, I practically almost live with you considering how much I come round to yours." You voice sounding strangled at the end. "Why are you so worked up about this?"

Looking at him exasperated you could see his eyes still blazing with unquenched fire.

Then it dawned on you.

"Are you jealous?" You looked at him as you waited for a response. When none came and he looked down at the steering wheel biting his lip, you gasped. "You are jealous! Is this what this is all about?" You relaxed into your chair your mind going hazy with both disbelief and shock. "So, cards on the table. You go and sneak off with your middle school crush for weeks on end, during which you avoid me, and I have to find you and confront you about it. But on the other hand, I'm just talking to my ex-boyfriend in a friendly way, and you fly off the handle after not even 20 minutes?!"

You waited for his response. When none came you clicked the air in front of his face annoyed. "Hello? Got nothing to say? What, did you lose your argument when you realised that you got nothing to be angry about?"

When he just looked at you, you just sunk back down into your chair. Arms crossed, annoyed and exasperated that your boyfriend was even angry about this in the first place. Gently rubbing your thumb over the part of your shoulder he had been gripping tightly during your encounter with Billy, you bit the inside of your cheek. You weren't sure what on earth you had to do to prove to Eddie that you weren't going anywhere and that he shouldn't be jealous. But from his expression and the way anger was still flowing through him, you knew your words would fall on deaf ears.

"Let me out of the car Eddie" you said. Feeling claustrophobic in the car with all this anger and negativity swirling around in front of you, you needed to in the fresh air.

"Not until you promise me you won't see him again" Eddie breathed out, staring ahead of him at the trailer door.

You looked at him thinking that he was joking. But the look on his face said that he was definitely not. Still, "you're kidding" you scoffed. He couldn't be serious. Eddie had never been like this with anyone else. He was jealous of Steve, you knew that, especially at the beginning of the relationship. But he had never said that you couldn't see him. This was ridiculous.

"Promise me" Eddie responded in a monotone voice. He still wasn't looking at you.

"Eddie, you're scaring me. Please let me out of the car" you tried again. A tremor of fear ran up your spine and you saw Eddie finally look at you. The fire behind his eyes was gone but the poison that had inflicted him with this jealousy. The poison was still there. His pupil massive, like he was on something. You could see it in the way he stared at you expressionless. Your heart rate quickening.

You've never known Eddie to be scary like this. This kind of possessiveness reminded you of home and the flashback memories started coming to the front of your mind. Your hand fumbled as you tried frantically to jiggle the door handle, but it was still locked.

Eddie grabbed your wrist and pulled you towards him, "Am I your replacement for him? What, we both listen to heavy rock and know about the Upside Down so you think 'yeah I can replace him with another fucking weirdo'? Were you planning on leaving me as soon as he got better?" As you shook your head repeatedly, his grip on your wrist tightened, "Now, promise me" he said each word slowly. Over punctuating each syllable.

"Eddie, please." your voice trembled with fear and pain. Where he was holding you on your wrist was aching and you could see your hand turning blue with lack of blood circulation.

You saw something flash behind his eyes and all of a sudden, his pupils returned back to regular size, and he let go of you. He unlocked the doors and stayed sat inside the car before jumping out and slamming his door shut. You shrunk back at the noise, your body taught with fear and caressing the purple bruise forming around your wrist from how tightly Eddie had been holding you.

You slowly got out of the car, legs wobbling slightly. Closing the door slowly, you leaned against the cool metal of the van. Breathing deeply, you sighed at the fight that had just unfolded. Your head was swimming with thoughts. Why was Eddie so jealous of Billy? Was he this jealous of Steve when he was first introduced to the gang? None of what he said he meant right? You could provide no answers to the questions swirling inside your mind. But you heard footsteps, so you straightened up, ready in case Eddie wanted a round 2.

You felt yourself be pulled into a gentle hug. Your nose breathing in his scent slowly. Still trying to keep your breathing steady so that you didn't start crying. "I'm so sorry for how I was with you then. I just got so angry" Your face buried into his hair so you could barely hear what he was saying over the sound of your mind and your heartbeat. "My dad used to lose his temper like that with me, I guess I lived up to the Munson name." You knew he was trying to apologise and make a joke out of it, but it felt like he was excusing his behaviour to genetics. You made a small 'hmm' noise in response and the hug became slightly tighter

You pulled away first. "I'm gonna go home. I need to be on my own for a bit" you murmured. Refusing to look him in the eye, because you were still terrified, you'd see the poison still there and also because you knew if you looked at him, you would definitely lose all control of your emotions and weep.

"I'll call you?" He offered. You simply nodded. Your vocal cords tired after the short but explosive fight. He'd let you walk to your trailer across the trailer park by yourself. He knew he had overstepped the line and he knew that you needed space. He sighed. "I've really fucked this up" he pinched the bridge of his nose and walk walked into his trailer when you began walking away.

As you made your way passed Max's trailer you stopped to pet one of your neighbours' dogs. The silly good boy wagged his tail and whined, putting his paw up against the fence. "I'm fine, I promise" you managed a small smile when you reached through the fence to scratch his ears. A couple of small tears escaped through the quick blinking of your eyes. You used your other hand to wipe them away, pausing when you saw the bruise on your wrist develop fully.

The doggy whined and sniffed at your hand before licking your fingers softly. "Thanks for making me feel a bit better" you let out a soft laugh at the feeling. "You're a good boy" you said, and the doggy woofed in response, clearly pleased.

"And here's me thinking you'd only call me that"

You turned around too quickly, almost losing your footing, but a large hand caught you by the waist in time. You recognised the voice and the hand simultaneously.

"Hi billy"

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if you liked this please like, comment, follow and reblog for more. This is going to end up being more chapters because I have so many ideas of where I want this to go. Hope you enjoyed!

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