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uglyducklingofthe2000s · 2 months

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Wetter Than Water - LN

Summary: Lando's over hears a phone between y/n and her best friend and learns something that dents his ego. So of course, in true competitive nature, he sets out to redeem his reputation with his own girlfriend.

Word count: 3.5k (gonna say approx. 2.5k is just smut)

Themes: Smut (with some kind of a plot as promised) - oral, sex in front of a hotel window, edging, face-sitting dom-ish!Lando, aftercare :D

No part 2 requests please

"Where is he now?" Y/f/n questions through the phone while y/n lies on the sofa.

Now usually Lando has more pride than to eavesdrop on his girlfriend's conversations but he does know y/f/n and when he tone is that abrasive he worries for his girlfriend and how she's being spoken to.

"Streaming with Max I think." Y/n sighs pinching the bridge of her nose because she knows exactly what route this conversation is about to take.

"When did you last have sex? I mean for fuck sake, y/n. You can't keep relying on a vibrator when you have a perfectly fit and able boyfriend."

"Hey, he's busy right now-"

"So busy he has time to fucking game. I could find you another millionaire if that's the motive keeping you."

"It's not and you know it. Stop being horrible or I'll hang up." Y/n huffs then sighing. "Anyway...I'm kind of scared that it's me who's the problem. We haven't been out for dates in weeks, he hasn't touched me. What if he's planning on dumping me because he doesn't actually like me anyone. I have put on a couple pounds. Not being attracted to me would make a lot of sense to explain it."

"I'm going to castrate that man if he dumps you because he thinks you're not attractive."

"I don't think he'd say it like that, y/f/n." Y/n mutters before sighing rubbing at her hands. "God, I'm right though, aren't I? I'm the problem here. He's busy thinking about F1, sex is the last thing on his mind but even if it is. Having an attractive girlfriend would at least tempt him when he gets into bed with me at night."

"Y/n..." Y/f/n sighs with her tone turning sympathetic.

Meanwhile Lando feels his hands flexing. He knew it had been a while since they'd had sex, his schedule really just got that busy. It wasn't something he put a lot of thought into, stupidly. Now his girlfriend, his girlfriend that at one point he went down on for literally hours till he couldn't feel his tongue and was practically drunk on the taste of her, thinks that he doesn't want to touch her because he thinks she's un attractive. Which is the furthest thing from the truth.

"I don't know. Maybe the relationship ran it's course...we're young, these things happen."

"You could try actually talking to him, babes. Even if he dumps you, at least you could demand a reason."

"I'll think about it."

"No you won't. You'll do what you always do, avoid conflict and use that poor vibrator as your sexual outlet." Y/f/n teases probably trying to gain some laugh.

"Hey, diss me. But don't diss the vibrator...Although using it made me realise I've got the libido of a 12 year old boy who just found porn. Lando probably got sick of my sex drive."

"Hold on. Now I need to know, how many times a day are you sneaking off to take care of yourself then?"

"I'm not telling you that. Love you, buh-bye."

"Ahahaha, love you too, babes. I'm sure you're going to go pop one out before he's finished streaming. Enjoy."

"Perv." Y/n laughs before the call ends and she sighs heavily.

All while Lando has decided to make a plan. Because he'll be damned if he's losing out on rank to a vibrator.

Although he gets so caught up in his planning he doesn't hear her getting up and moving towards the door way. In fact he doesn't notice anything till she jumps walking around the corner and spotting him.

"Christ, Lando." Y/n gasps placing her hand to her chest before her eyes bulge. "H-How long have you been here?"

"I was just coming to get you. Literally just finished the stream like 30 seconds ago." Lando lies smoothly then feigning a frown. "Is everything ok?"

"Yeah, yeah. I just didn't hear you." Y/n nods then smiling a little awkwardly as her arms wrap around herself. "What were you coming to get me for?"

"I know we leave tomorrow for Bahrain, but...would you like to go out for dinner?"

"You heard the phone call didn't you?" Y/n groans seeing straight through his lie. Maybe if he hasn't immediately asked her on a date then he could've got away with it but he went straight in for the kill.

"I'm a shit boyfriend."

"No-"

"It's been 5 weeks since we had sex...over a month and yes, I do know the exact last time we had sex. Because...I might be shit for fitting it into a busy schedule but I do know the last time I got to feel you in all the best ways." Lando states then sighing. "We could have sex now and...until one of us passes out."

"We both know it wouldn't be you-but Lando that was...me being dramatic and y/f/n being a single friend who would tell me I'm not having enough sex if we were at it every meal time and as snacks in between." Y/n scoffs, and she's really not lying. "I'm not actually in the mood right now."

Lando sighs feeling like she'd not lie about that given her earlier comment about being like a 12 year old boy who just found porn.

"But when you are..." Lando trails off moving his hands to her waist. "I'll be making up for lost time and every time after than is going to count as part of my work out regime."

"Feels like more of a threat than anything." Y/n murmurs then swallowing.

Really Lando and y/n's sex life has never rarely been of the more vanilla flavour. Y/n looks at him for a moment, frowning slightly as she does so.

"Even outside of sex, I should be making more of an effort with you."

"But sex is a good starting point." Y/n grins then feeling Lando hook his finger under chin, easing into her heavier kiss than she's grown accustom to in his usual pecks.

When Lando asked her to climb onto him during the flight, y/n didn't even stop to second guess how smart of an idea it was. It's not their first time in the mile high club, but she already knows that Lando has a promise to fulfil.

"Lando." Y/n whimpers sliding down on his length with a shudder. "I just need a second."

Turns out 5 weeks of nose even with her completely drenched between the thighs, adjusting to Lando's size was more than she'd originally expected.

Lando doesn't say anything, instead tracing the bulge of himself in her stomach, fingers tracing the skin making her clench around him almost making him choke a moan out but instead grunt with his awareness of his surroundings.

"Fuck, you feel so fucking amazing." Lando groans quietly before moving his fingers to her clit, two fingers pinching gently and rubbing at it making her teeth clamp on her lip to contain any more noise.

Not entirely successful, but neither of them care much by this point.

They're adults in a relationship having sex on a private jet that Lando paid for.

It takes all of 2 minutes for y/n's first orgasm to crash over her but even when she lifts herself to ease the feeling of being so completely filled, his hands move to fully sheeth her down on himself. Feeling ever twitch and spasm around his dick. But he's not done and he won't be letting up just because she's came once.

"We're not done yet, don't give out on me now." Lando chuckles a little feeling her stomach clench as he says they're not done.

Y/n lifts herself lightly before beginning to bounce up and down, and just as Lando presses a flat hand onto her stomach, her eyes roll back and it takes him just short of catching the more when he throws his hand up to cover her mouth and muffle the moan escaping.

"Time to finish up, baby." Lando states keeping his hand on her mouth and moving his free hand down to her clit. He's not hitting her g-spot but instead knocking at her cervix making her clench around him to a suffocating degree. The moment he feels her tighten and spasm with another orgasm, he yanks her forward spilling into her while she seems to milk him dry. "Need a minute."

"More like an hour."

Y/n smiles looking around the hotel room, the door clicking closed behind her as Lando follows her in.

"You always get the best rooms." Y/n states earning a hum before she feels Lando's hands on her waist. "Lando-"

"Do you know where I'd love to see you?" Lando cuts in, his voice reaching a roguish-ness that might as well be turning her on like there's a tap between her legs.

"Where?" Y/n questions while feeling Lando pushing her shorts down before pull her top up over her head. Leaving her naked before she really has a chance to process what Lando is about to do.

"In front of that window, hands on the glass and legs spread."

"I-You want me in front of the window? What if someone sees?" Y/n chokes out.

It's one thing to be caught or overheard having sex by friends on a private jet. Though if anyone did overhear it (hard to think they didn't) then they were polite enough to not say anything or even give her an awkward look.

"Y/n, the window." Lando instruct making her look at him for a moment before she steps out her shorts pooled at her ankles. Another pause.

"What if someone sees?" She questions again turning to look at Lando.

It's not so much a concern for herself but more of a concern for Lando if they are spotted by any amount of people. Fans, media or not.

"They'll probably enjoy it just as much as we will." Lando states earning a bit of a glare. "If you keep putting it off, it's going to leave you against the window a lot longer than what I had planned for originally."

Y/n sighs moving to the window and pressing her hands to the glass, her upper body leaned forward as she spreads her legs, face burning at the knowledge that while she can't see anyone looking. She is so highly aware of her exposed position.

"For someone so nerves, you're about to leave a puddle on the floor before I've even touched you." Lando observes then rubbing his fingers against her soaked entrance, already pulsing as she drops her head and moans. "You can be as loud as you like here, baby."

Y/n takes all of a minute to realise Lando's intentions are not to make this a quickie. He has even touched her clit or got inside her. He's just gliding a finger over her slit.

"I think a safe word might be smart for what I've got in mind." Lando comments making her turn her head to look at him for a moment. "What's the safe word?"

"Lime." Y/n mumbles making sure she's at least loud enough for him to hear and not ask her to repeat it.

"Lime." Lando repeats as if he's testing the word out.

Y/n whimpers feeling his fingers finally push into her, she only managed to do a quick clean up in the jet bathroom and she's still very much puffy and sore. Though something tells her that she's about to feel a lot worse by the end of whatever he has in store for her.

For a moment, y/n wonders why on earth she had that phone call even with just the risk of Lando overhearing it. She should've known that he would do something like this. Set himself a mission of making up lost time and more. Though at the time she had been confident Lando was occupied.

How she's gone from complaining about no sex to feeling nervous about whether she can handle sex.

"I don't want your hands to move from that window. Ok?" Lando questions making her head drop. "Y/n?"

"Ok. I'll keep my hands on the window."

"Good girl."

Fuck. Is this man trying to make a waterfall from her pussy?

"You know one day I'd love to see if I could just make you cum from not even touching you." Lando states then pushing a finger into her, not entirely with warning but she moans at the feeling.

"Lando..."

Another finger and the expert locating of her g-spot has her knees forcing her to keep some energy reserved for not collapsing before he's even got his dick in her.

He's asking a lot of her to stay upright to say the least. But she definitely feels completely at his mercy.

Thankfully she gets lost in the overwhelming pleasure that's building and her body seems to take care of the rest when it comes to not completely crumpling to the floor.

The idea of being spotted is already forgotten about, but really just as she's about to surrender to the orgasm. Suddenly Lando is gone.

"What?" Y/n chokes outgoing to stand up.

"Hands on the window, baby. Keep them there." Lando reminds making her realise him stopping was intentional.

"I was close."

"I know."

Oh the smirk is audible. He's loving this.

"Really?" Y/n groans feeling the fizzle of her previously building orgasm diminish by the second.

He seems to time it to perfection in making sure that his fingers are back inside her, now with his thumb pushing on her clit making her body shudder and her gaze finally catches outside again, the remembered knowledge than anyone could be watching making her tense a little.

The feeling of her clit being pressed on is sending a quicker buzz around her body and building her towards orgasm again. She feels the beginning just on the brink, a mere second away before she is stripped of his touch again.

"No. Lando please. Please. I want to cum." Y/n splutters out desperately while he shushes her with a soothing stroke up and down her upper thigh. She didn't even realise how desperate she was till he stopped yet again.

"You're not cumming till I've got you wrapped around me, baby."

Y/n tries to even her breathing from his words and hope that he's about to give her exactly what he's talking about.

"You know I am going to let you get you down on your knees."

"Wha-"

"I want you to sit on my face baby." Lando smirks making her look back.

"Where?" Y/n chokes out watching him raise eyebrow. "In-In front of the window?"

Lando smirks as he lies himself down between her legs, smirking up at her while she looks down at him. She's almost certain she's on the verge of drooling on him.

"Come on baby, I want a taste of you properly." Lando states tapping the back of her knee. "And I still want your hands on the window."

Y/n already has to remind herself that her orgasm isn't coming while sitting on his face unless she can focus enough to give herself the hurry up in a way that Lando won't stop her from getting away with it.

She drops down to her knees, no stranger to sitting on his face and the moment his tongue is lapping her up. Keeping her hands on the window proves to be harder than expected with her no longer relying on it to keep herself up.

"F-fuck, Lando." Y/n moans shamelessly grinding down on him.

Y/n is certainly that she's already addicted to Lando like a fiend for any sexual attention he'll give her.

Caught up in the moment of being completely desperate for an orgasm. Y/n feels her climax building up yet again and for a moment she wonders if Lando is pussy drunk enough to forget his intentions but when she quivers on his tongue with a dead give away of her nearing euphoria.

Now if there's one area of an F1 driver to never doubt the muscle of. It's their neck.

Y/n squeals when she is launched back when Lando's upper sits upright.

"Fuck, Lando! I want to cum. Please!" Y/n whines about ready to stomp her foot or maybe just fully shed tears.

"I told you-"

"But...I can cum multiple times that's the beauty of being a woman."

She might go insane.

"Climb on baby." Lando instructs looking so beyond amusement. Though she has to swallow thickly when she notices the wetness of his face glistening in the sun lightly.

"It's not funny."

"I'm not laughing. Stand up I want your hands on the window." Lando states making her bite her lip before she stands up and he gets up from the floor ditching the last of his own clothing.

When she feels his fingers teasing at her again she's about ready to beg with tears if that's what she has to resort to.

But when he finally thrusts into her, the sheer pressure of being so full and relief feels as if it's actually just shifted the axis of the planet. His hands hold her waist which might just be the only thing keeping her upright because she's sure her legs gave out without her even really being aware of it.

"Fuck." Y/n whimpers as he starts moving and her head drops to rest on her bicep. Somehow she kept her hands up on the window and didn't just crash forward onto the window with her whole upper body.

"Don't crash out on me now, baby." Lando grunts while she feels her body centring all it's energy into chasing the long awaited orgasm.

Maybe to no surprise, she completely falls apart on him within a couple minutes. The orgasm feels like it's shaking the whole building but mainly just because Lando doesn't let up at all.

She can hear her voice chanting Lando's name like a prayer, but by the time she's back down to earth. Her body feels loose and flimsy from having tensed so hard then relaxed so much.

It really feels like it takes no time at all really for another orgasm to be building up, especially when Lando pushes her forward so she's more upright and closer to the window as his hand moves around to pinch at her clit, her jaw drops and a moan that has to have been heard beyond their room.

Y/n is seeing stars when the orgasm rips through her body, falling forward completely onto the window. Bless the poor person who has to clean this window but she triggers Lando's orgasm which honestly almost retriggers her second orgasm, or maybe it triggers a third either way her body is doing everything to get every drop of cum from him.

Lando slides out of her before picking her up, knowing her limbs are currently useless.

"Ok, baby. Alright." Lando soothes while she is has completely zoned out. "I'll be right back."

"Ok." Y/n murmurs forcing herself out of her headspace.

Lando returns with a cloth and cleans up the cum leaking back out of her.

"Ok, sweetheart." Lando smiles while she clears her throat as he pulls her to sit up a little before tipping some water for her to drink. "You lost a lot of fluids baby."

"I need a fucking shower..."

"We'll give you some recovery time first. I think if we test your legs right now, I'll just be carrying you into the bathroom." Lando smirks then tilting. "Especially when I'm fully intending to fuck you again before the end of the day."

"God, I think I'll be sick." Y/n mumbles before she sighs. "I know I said I wanted to have sex but if every time is going to be like that. I think I might need to start eating before we have sex. Like have something at the ready so I have more energy to burn off."

"Sounds like a plan. It might always be like that...I had fun."

"I'm sure you did." Y/n states before taking the bottle and chugging the rest of it before she lies flat on the bed. "I think you broke me. My body feels like...rough."

"That was the goal. Maybe I'll go easier on your next time. If you're good." Lando smirks then leaning over and kissing her softly. "I love you."

"I love you too. And I'm going to make sure you never feel like you need to redeem yourself again. I will be making sure that we have sex at least twice weekly unless you are in a different country."

"In which case, when I see you again. I'll do more than just repeat this." Lando hums before he reaches a hand up and gently holds her throat to pull her in for a heavy but gentle kiss.

Taglist: @namgification @hiireadstuff @jsjcue @geniusalpaca @itsjustkhaos

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ncteez · 2 months

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oh no, he's in love? (k.m.g)

Mingyu knew that sleeping with you was a bad idea, especially when he learns that you’re now dating his son, Chan. He pulls himself back into reality and moves on from the situation, allowing the two of you to end the small fling without suspicion, or rather, he tries. or the one where your re-established crush and now boyfriend, chan, finds out that his dad knows you better than he does.

― part one here!

ao3 | m.list | leave feedback and reblog to give mingyu a boner.

minors do not interact.

WORDCOUNT― 15.1k

PAIRING― dilf!mingyu x afab reader | chan x afab reader

CONTENT― angst, there is no daddy kink nor is there sub/dom dynamics involved with this fic, mingyu is in his 40s, reader is in her 20s.

SIDE CHARACTERS― chan as mingyu’s son, jihoon as chan’s ride home when ur mad at him

WARNINGS― borderline cheating, alcohol abuse, morally gray choices need to be made, chan disowns mingyu, reader can be lifted and carried by mingyu.

NOTE― *runs away very very fast, so fast that no one can catch me and make me face the trials of what this fic may have done to some of you* not proofread because hahahaha nope.

smut tags under cut::

smut tags :: pussy drunk mingyu, reader is almost entirely silent through the smut but you’ll get why, pussy devouring, kitchen counter sex, couch sex, missionary, eye contact, making out, finger fucking, cream pie/unprotected sex

You keep running through explanations in your head, more for yourself than anyone else. When you pushed that crush you had on Chan away, it was clearly because you were horny and he wasn’t picking up the hints. The crush never actually died, your interest just skewed to someone who appeared more ready to pleasure you when you needed it the most. The fact that it happened to have been Chan’s dad? Well, we just won’t talk about how that factors into it.

The explanation of an insatiable “horny level” high enough to fuck Mingyu? It manages to calm you down each time you’re actually with Chan. He’s entirely unaware of what happened between you and his father and you’d prefer to keep it that way, which is why you haven’t seen Mingyu in over a month, and why you avoid seeing him any further.

After that first night with Mingyu, you saw him a few times after and continued your little fling with him until Chan made himself more prominent in your life, more so than he already was. He made his feelings clear, he stepped up, he started hanging out with you one on one rather than consistently inviting you to parties with him. It was easy to fall back into your original mindstate about him especially without the alcohol being involved. Wanting to hold his hand, wanting to kiss him, wanting to touch him. He stepped up and asked you to be his girlfriend about a week after you stopped seeing Mingyu all together. You expected to be asked, in all fairness, so it was the right thing to do.

Mingyu never texted you nor did he ever call even before you stopped seeing him, he always just responded. You were thankful for that, despite remembering how you laid with him in his bed the last night you spent with him, wondering if that feeling in your stomach was something deeper than arousal. Small secretive hopes that those small words of “I never want to assume, that’s why I don’t text first.” with an even smaller explanation of “It’s not because I don’t want you.” would become something more.

Still, those budding hopes don’t matter now, as Chan continues to make himself the center of your love life. There is something on your mind that bothers you though. The fact that there could be a future together with Chan and knowing that you can’t avoid Mingyu forever.

God, you’re so right about that issue too, because of course Chan is happily texting you as the semester comes to an end. Of course he’s setting up dinner with his dad and inviting you to meet him properly for the first time.

You: chan, i’ve met your dad a billion times

Chan: yeah but not as my girlfriend!

You: fair but, i’ve already met him lol, i’d rather we just hang out without parents around

Your brain pounds at the idea of pretending you haven’t met Mingyu on levels deeper than you should have. It also pounds at the idea of seeing Mingyu’s reaction to you doing what you’re doing. He must think so lowly of you, to fuck him and still be brave enough to enter into a relationship with his son? You’re sure he already knows you’re dating him, but like, you’d rather not see him see it?

Chan: babe come on, i wanna do coupley things with you! just pretend you’ve never met him, plus he seemed cool with the idea and even said he can make up my old room if we wanted to sleep over.

The pit in your stomach grows at the very idea that you’ve never been in Chan’s old room before, but you’d been in Mingyu’s many times. Enough to remember the creak of the boards just at the base of his bedroom door, enough to know where he hangs his jacket outside of the closet, and which side of his bed he tends to sleep on the most.

Unfortunately, and with a world of reluctance, you know you can’t avoid Mingyu forever. The thought alone that he already knows drives the bubbles in your stomach up to your throat, leaving a bad taste in your mouth as you give in to your boyfriend. Chan, the one you chose, and the one you know you will continue to choose.

You: alright, alright. what should i wear?

Chan: can you wear that one skirt

You: NO

Now, after a long night of overthinking and trying to come up with an excuse to not see Mingyu again, you’re sitting on your bed wearing the exact skirt Chan wants you to wear, waiting for him to pick you up and drive you to the most awkward situation that could ever happen to you.

You’re really hoping he doesn’t opt to sleep there and expect you to be beside him. Something inside tells you that he’d be able to smell the weakness on you, or the nervousness around his father. After all, Chan is more mindful than you gave him credit for originally. Only having learned this through his never-ending string of apologies of never reciprocating your hints previously. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to, he had said, he just wasn’t sure if he was ready at the time.

That was, until he noted how you kind of backed off. He didn’t want to fumble a girl like you, and so, he leaped further than any man ever had done with you. Mindful, he is. Of himself, of you, hopefully not of anything else though. You’d really rather he not take note of any lingering memories in his childhood home regarding your naked body pressed against whatever surface Mingyu has had you against.

Trying to act like Mingyu hasn’t had you pressed against the washer in the laundry room is harder than you thought it would be. Trying to pretend you haven’t touched him, or kissed him, or made him moan is insanely difficult to do. Those images and sounds were burned into your mind the moment it happened, and even now, when you get intimate with Chan, you find yourself finding the differences between the two. Which is….not good.

For instance, Mingyu is bigger. All around, he loomed and could do absolutely anything he wanted to you, but he was polite and never took advantage of his size or age. He was gentle and kind, even when his deep thrusts hurt. He always kissed you when you winced, always told you to hold onto him, and always thanked you for taking him so well.

Chan, on the other hand is–a good size of course, not as thick or as long as Mingyu, body stature not nearly as big either but, the sex is hot, messy, clumsy even.

He’s cheeky and selfish for his pleasure, but so are you, so the dynamic is something that turns you on beyond belief. Having someone so eager to touch you felt amazing. Chan never quite knew where he wanted his lips, tongue, or fingers first and it always feels so good to let him determine that himself.

The first time you finally had him between your legs, you could argue that he gave you some of the best head you’d ever had. Until you remembered how Mingyu did it. How desperate someone twice your size and age was for you to get on his face, how ready he was to make you feel good even while neglecting himself. Chan doesn’t do that, he likes to hold you down when you squirm, and he certainly doesn’t allow himself to be neglected for too long.

Both of them fuck so differently, and both of them fuck exactly how you want them to. Or, wanted them to, if you’re talking about Mingyu. It’s just, you only know of the love from Chan and the presumed fantasy of what you think Mingyu’s love would feel like.

As you sit here, comfortable and pleased with your current sex life, you can’t help but miss the way you were held by Mingyu. His big arms felt so safe, even when you weren’t in any position to feel unsafe. You can’t compare the two, truly, but you still try. Internally wondering which is better despite already making the choice of being Chan’s girlfriend.

Naturally though, you cannot live your life through sexual hopes and dreams like this when you’ve got Chan right here, giving his all to you. So, you let it rest, even when the thoughts flood your mind.

The memories and thoughts of Mingyu will die as the days pass, right? As you and Chan establish a good foundation, and eventually fall into something more serious than just a mid-college relationship, right? There’s no harm in remembering fondly until that happens, right?

Right, well. You still have to officially meet Mingyu again, so.

Even now, as you’re with Chan and pulling into his father’s driveway, your brain finds itself reverting back to how Mingyu used to open the door for you when you were alone. Always that little smirk, always a tight and warm hug before it immediately turned to minty fresh kisses deepening by the second.

When he opens the door this time, he appears to be nothing but a doting father. One who doesn’t have desperate arousal pressing against his jeans when he looks at you. It’s a reminder that he isn’t opening this door for you alone this time. He’s not inviting you in to put those broad hands on your thighs to spread your legs open for him. No, he’s inviting you in for fucking dinner with your boyfriend. His son.

He doesn’t appear to be bothered though, nor does his eyes linger like they used to. He greets you the same way he greets Chan, only glancing at your hand in his son’s grasp for a moment before offering the two of you a smile.

“It’s about time I got to officially meet her.” Mingyu calls out with a chipper tone, reaching his hand out to you for a hand shake. “Now that you’re seeing me at a decent time, without dragging my insane child to the couch to sleep off his bad decisions, I’m the actual Mingyu.”

You reluctantly reach for his hand to shake it, the warmth of them no longer there from when he used to hold your hips or caress your cheek. They’re cold this time, but his smile is warm. You avoid eye contact, mostly looking straight past him rather than choosing to try and read his features.

“It’s kind of weird seeing you when the sun is out, Mr. Kim,” You comment, feeling a little bit shy about all of this despite how bold you normally are. “Kind of nice that we are all here to meet without Chan dry heaving against me.”

Mingyu pauses at the name you just called him, accepting it and dipping his head politely at you with a soft and accepting smile.

“Oh yeah, for sure.” Chan laughs, squeezing your hand in his and dragging you inside, forcing you to brush only slightly by Mingyu, who steps back to give you the space.

On one hand, that comment meant more than you meant it to, but it was also the truth. For one, you should never be calling your boyfriend’s dad by his actual name, and two, even if you never got to experience getting into Mingyu’s bed, still you’d have only met him in the middle of the night after wild college parties. Even those days when you slept over and went home the next morning, the sun was out but it didn’t change the fact that most of your waking hours with Mingyu were spent when the city was blanketed by night.

The atmosphere feels so awkward in these circumstances and the worst part is that they’re not supposed to. If you had just kept your hands to yourself, if Mingyu was just….not so fucking hot. Even now, as you avoid eye contact with him, you watch the way he steps around the kitchen with confidence as he prepares the last of the dinner. You watch the way his shirt squeezes his biceps and the way his fingers hold a bowl.

You are stupid to have come here so soon.

Unintentionally you rub your legs together as you watch him, as if your body will react regardless of what your heart tells you to do. Chan is off to the side moving his hand from the table and to your thigh, completely unaware that the movements from you are from unwanted arousal and not nervousness.

“What’re you being so shy for?” Chan whispers, squeezing your thigh with care, dipping his head down to make eye contact with you. “Like you said, you’ve already met him before.”

He has no idea that the simple touch to your thigh is driving you insane right now, and you can’t even react to it the way you want to because you wouldn’t know if you’d moan the wrong name if you end up being intimate with Chan here. It feels insanely overwhelming just sitting here at the dinner table and the worst part is that it absolutely should not be like this. As if that’s not already well established in your head,

“I know, but it’s weird pretending like it’s my first time meeting him.” You whisper back, trying to relax your body and keep your eyes on Chan.

You can’t help but feel like he can see straight through you, despite knowing there is absolutely no way in hell he could.

“It’ll feel better, don’t worry. I know you’ve only talked to him a few times, but he’s pretty down to earth.”

Chan really thinks you’ve only met Mingyu in passing when dropping him off. God, the guilt is overwhelming as you lean into him, dropping your head on his shoulder and sighing. You can’t even tell if this looks dramatic or awkward, but thankfully, Mingyu appears to be avoiding your eye much like you are for him.

When dinner is ready and the three of you are sitting together and eating, it does somehow get easier. The way Mingyu plays it off, the way he carries the conversation, the way he says he’s proud of Chan for finding such a nice girl, all of it makes you feel as though he’s decided to move forward. Like he’s genuinely okay with this, like he’s moved on and you were just a notch in his bedpost.

Which, it’s true, but you can admit that you feel uneasy with the way he no longer looks at you the way he once did.

Which is good, for him at least. You think you’ve moved on too, at least in a logical sense, but you can’t help but feel a little stab in your heart each time Mingyu acts in support of this relationship. Not that you wanted him to fight for you, or to be mad, it’s just that you really thought that maybe the two of you had a little fire starting together. Given, you’re the reason that was snuffed out, who are you to feel even the slightest bit upset that he’s being a supportive father?

After all, above all, he is the father of your boyfriend, and not just that notch in your bedpost. You have to co-exist with him for as long as you and Chan are together, it’s better that it’s this way.

There’s a relief in the way Mingyu appears to truly not mind. He still looks at you softly when your eyes do meet, but they’re not guilty or apologetic. This is how it’s supposed to be, it’s how it was always supposed to be.

“So, are you guys sleeping over?” Mingyu asks, grabbing his glass and taking a sip to wash down a bite of his food before looking between the two of you. “Chan, I made up your bedroom and hooked up one of the gaming systems.”

Chan nods with a fond smile before looking at you and tilting his head in question.

“Are you good to sleep over?” He asks you, hand going back to your thigh under the table and giving you another comforting squeeze.

You don’t want to, but Chan is still obnoxiously bad at picking up hints, so when you shrug he smiles and nods.

“Sounds good,” He smiles, looking back at his dad and taking another bite of his food. “This is nice.”

Mingyu hums in response.

“Yeah, it’s about time you brought someone home to meet me, I was starting to think you thought I was lame or something.”

Chan laughs, tipping his chair a bit as he pulls his hand from your thigh and slouches like the college boy he is.

“You are lame,” Chan jokes in a chuckle. “But really, dad, I just didn’t click with anyone until now.”

Mingyu pauses and then gives Chan another smile and a nod.

“That’s really good to hear.” He compliments, standing to his feet to take his dishes to the sink.

You try not to be too touchy with Chan while you’re here. You’re too hyper aware of what it feels like to be touched in this house and what it does to your mind. Unfortunately, Chan is the perfect type of boyfriend you would have yearned for before all of this happened.

He’s touchy, he’s clingy, he’s needy. Honestly, he’s all over you after dinner. On the couch he used to drunkenly sleep on, his hand is planted to your thigh, drawing little hearts with his fingertips. His lips are constantly in search of yours when Mingyu sees himself out of the room, usually to grab a drink or to go to the bathroom.

It’s not that you pull away, but you kind of do. He seems understanding enough, knowing that you likely just feel awkward being all touchy in his dad’s house.

“He’s not even in here,” Chan prods gently, kissing against your neck. “And you look so good today.”

You both love and hate how into you he can be. It’s something you think you’ll give in to time and time again, but still, you feel like you’re morally at a wall when he does it here.

Even by the time the two of you make your way to Chan’s old room, you find yourself staring at the door Mingyu has closed behind you several times. His door. You know the layout of his bedroom like the back of your hand, every creak of his floor, every pattern on his window curtains.

The guilt stays with you the entire time you’re here, and you really just can’t wait to leave. It feels like you’re a prisoner of your own fucking brain at this point, and honestly? You want to go to sleep and not spend another waking moment with your fucking boyfriend within these walls, ever. It’s too overwhelming, too awkward, and in all honesty, kind of painful with the way Mingyu seems entirely unbothered.

You’re trying to be unbothered too, even as Chan lays you down in his old bed and crawls on top of you.

“If we’re quiet...” He starts, trying to lean down to kiss you, trying to love you the way you usually like it. But he’s quick to take note of your body language, with the way you almost curl in on yourself as he makes his attempt.

“Hey,” He soothes, rolling off of you and clinging to your side. “It’s okay.” He continues, whispering to you and peppering little kisses against your shoulder. “We don’t have to.”

You nod quietly, turning to face him and looking at him.

“It’s not that I don’t want to.” You say, trying to make him feel less bad about it. “I just don’t think I can physically get turned on in your dad’s house.”

A lie.

He chuckles at you with a nod.

“Would you rather not sleep here tonight?” He asks, like, genuinely asks in a way to try and make things more comfortable.

You nod, feeling a bit bad and like you’re making a big deal about it, even though to him, you’re not.

“Come on, we can go back to your place.” He says, both of you still very much awake and not entirely ready for bed anyway.

“Won’t he wonder why we’re leaving?” You ask, tilting your head. “I mean, he made up your room and everything.” You nod your head to the gaming system sitting untouched, ready for use.

“Nah, he’s just nice like that. He won’t mind.”

And, well, Mingyu really didn’t seem to care. Which, arguably, makes you feel stupid for being worried about it at all.

In fact, he barely gave either of you a nod when Chan opened the familiar bedroom door to say goodbye for the night. Both of you waving politely to him with no excuse or reason as to why you’re not staying.

You’re aware that Mingyu knows why though. Which is probably why he didn’t offer an ounce of care or confusion when the two of you inevitably stood at his door to tell him.

At the end of the day? This visit was tortuous only because you made it so. In your head, it’s hard to pretend. Fortunately though, Mingyu seems to have no fucking problem forgetting that you’ve ever spent a single moment alone with him.

You try not to hurt over it.

Chan has this effect over you where as long as the two of you are together, he calms you to the point that you almost forget about Mingyu entirely. That is, of course, until you’re actually face to face with Mingyu himself and you have no other choice but to recognize the choices you’ve made.

Thankfully, there isn’t much of a reason to be around him despite being in a committed relationship with his son, and that only gives you more of a reason to fall back into a comfortable mind state the second you’re out of that all too familiar childhood home of your boyfriend.

Every single time, without fail and completely without intention, Chan manages to remind you with every kiss and touch that you’re where you’re supposed to be. With him, beside him, under him, just…anywhere with him. It feels so right when your brain isn’t running a mile a minute over the hidden secrets within yourself.

You can genuinely say that Chan makes you happy. You can even say that you’ve never been happier in a relationship with another person. Never more comfortable, never more safe. So, when the two of you are invited to a semester-end party over at Jihoon’s place just a week later, it’s natural that both of you jump for the opportunity.

After all, it’s been a while since you last attended a party at all, and Chan has since calmed down as well once the two of you got exclusive. It’s nice, really, without the alcohol flowing and heightened emotions.

Every conversation from before, up to Chan asking you to be his girlfriend was sobering and pleasant. If anything, having a couple of drinks now that the two of you are falling into a routine together would be a nice change of pace for the night.

The two of you deserve this relaxation together anyway, for sure you do. After how you felt dealing with Mingyu face to face, after a rough semester, after fucking passing your exams, fuck yes you’re going to go to this party and let loose with a boyfriend you’re growing to love so dearly.

You can tell Chan is excited too by the glint in his eye and that fond smile as he watches you get dressed and ready beside him.

“I won’t drink much so we can go back to my place and cuddle up later?” is what he whispered to you as you pinned your hair out of your face. You were happy to hear him take responsibility for what used to be a somewhat of a drinking problem.

Unfortunately, his promise of not drinking much became more and more empty as the night went on.

For the first hour, he seemed to stick to his words. Sipping on one single drink up until the end of the hour and he goes for another. Then another, and another, up until he goes off for “one more” only to be lost in the crowd of people wandering around jihoon’s frat house.

You stand in wait, swaying to the beat with a mere drink and a half sloshing around in your belly as you think to yourself. It’s okay. He’s just letting loose for the first time in weeks and you don’t want to seem like a pushy girlfriend or a mood kill during the middle of a party that you both very much deserve to attend.

You and Chan being in the relationship doesn’t mean neither of you get the freedom to have fun and get absolutely plastered, even if there was a slight promise of doing no such thing. You want him to have fun after the stressful semester. Especially considering how you had to practically force him to study just so he could get his GPA up.

You want him to not feel guilty for drinking a little too much like he’s done so many times before. If anything, you need to be the supportive girlfriend, letting him lean on you and leave slobbery, wet kisses down your jaw through drunken slurs of love and adoration towards you.

Are you a bit disappointed? Yes, of course you are. But you also don’t mind going with the flow, so flow you do. Back and forth through the rooms, mingling with Jihoon, Joshua, that one guy, and that other girl. You’re having a great time chatting it up with relaxed and giggly friends, feeling like maybe you could even use another drink or two, up until– oh.

Chan. Right there against the back door with some pretty drunken girl petting on his arm. Giggling, dipping her face, all while he says something to her with the same snicker and smirk he typically gives to you during a date or just before an intimate moment with you.

Suddenly, you remember when you let that fleeting crush on him dwindle as time passed. Sure, partially it was because of Mingyu but there was still another side to it. This side of Chan. When he’s drunk and entirely out of his mind around pretty girls and strong beverages. Always so single looking, always so flirty, never picking up hints.

He never picked up the hint that you liked him, and while he explained that away to you, watching him now makes you feel like all of those words were just to save face. He didn’t pick up the hints then, and he certainly isn’t picking up the hints now as your face falls to that of a frustrated glare. The girl notices, raises her brow at you, and then looks back at your boyfriend.

Chan barely glances at you but when he does, it’s almost like you didn’t come here with him at all. It’s almost like neither of you ever even started dating in the first place.

Is this all it takes? A couple of drinks and one pretty girl for him to lose all interest in you? What about you though? Is this all it takes for you to completely lose all interest?

You’re the only one with a right to lose interest, arguably.

Considering the way Chan looks at her, the way his hands reach for her.

There, a girl who isn't you, to be specific. He practically ignores any hint of discomfort from you while simultaneously allowing this girl to cling all over him, run her fingers through his hair, and even so much as sipping from his drink. She glances at you again.

She fucking smirks at you.

You’re dumbfounded, appalled, and overwhelmed with rage within an instant as you stand and watch. Each person who steps in front of you or between you and your boyfriend appear to be entirely invisible as you watch, because you can’t recall a single second where you weren’t seeing the two of them up against that fucking door clear as day.

It’s like he’s reverted back to every doubt you ever had about him, that safety you had started growing accustomed to being ripped out from under you by some woman who you’re sure he hasn’t even caught the name of yet.

Does it hurt? Tremendously for the amount of time you’ve been with him. A few weeks shouldn’t hurt this badly to lose.

And it’s not hard, really, to take what’s yours, or rather to throw away what’s supposed to be yours. It never really has been when it comes down to situations that force you to act on instinct. After all, Chan was the one who got serious with you. He’s the one who asked you to be exclusive. He’s the one who finally jumped in after you’d been dipping your toes in to encourage him for ages.

And now, he’s going to fucking explain himself. You deserve to know why your boyfriend of just over a month and a half, who was previously your best fucking friend, manages to grow bored with you within the blink of an eye. If Chan can’t handle being in a relationship while alcohol is involved, he’s going to have a big decision to make. Right here.

Right now.

You make your way towards them, all while glaring at the woman with her hands in your boyfriend’s hair as she makes her pathetic attempts to dance sexy against him. Chan, on the other hand, is so fucking dazed and in his own world that you can argue you don’t know this man at all.

“Chan.” That’s all you say to have him raising a brow, looking at you as if you’re interrupting something.

“What’s up babe?” He responds nonchalantly, smiling at you and leaning into the girl.

You pause, taking a breath as you stare them both down with a grimace.

“Can you leave?” You demand more than ask towards the girl, and she scoffs only for a moment before Chan takes it upon himself to shrug her off of him and shake her away.

You watch as she rolls her eyes and walks away, and never in your life have you wanted to slap another woman so badly. The worst part is that it isn’t even her fault that this is happening. Chan clearly didn’t tell her that he, you know, has a fucking girlfriend.

“What the fuck was that?” You dead pan, staring straight at Chan and forcing him out of a state of bliss with your tone.

“Babe, babe. Relax.” He slurs, smiling and chuckling throughout the words. “Just having fun!”

You stare at him dumbfounded. Offended. Fucking appalled yet again.

“Are you joking?” You roll your eyes much like the woman did, crossing your arms and fidgeting on your feet. “If I’d known that you would suddenly become single from getting shitfaced then maybe we wouldn’t have come to the party at all.”

“Oh, so now you want to control me?” Chan shoots back in another slur of words. “First you force me to study, now you’re trying to make me stop having fun? Such a fucking buzz-kill.”

You sigh, unsure as to why you thought he wouldn’t be so stubborn. Then again, you know drunk Chan better than you do the sober one.

“I really thought that once we started dating, you’d be more mindful of this. Of us.” You nearly plead now, reaching for his cup only to watch him pull it out of your reach like a child. “You need to stop drinking.”

Chan just stares at you now. You watch him try to adjust his eyes forward, and already you’re aware that he’s seeing two of you. His expression gives you nothing more than a feeling of disgust, knowing well enough that drunk words are more truthful than the sober ones.

“Chan, you’re cheating on me already.” You try to explain the gravity of the situation again.

“I’m not cheating. I told you, I was just having some fun.” He explains away with a dopey smile, moving his weight to his other leg and blatantly stumbling over nothing as he sways himself back into a shitty-show of drunken balance.

“Yes, because it’s fun to have another woman’s hands all over you when I’m literally right fucking here?”

Only now are you actually shocked by his response.

All he does is shrug at you with that same smile. One you’d normally want to kiss right off of his face because it’s so cute and endearing.

But no. Instead, you feel disgust. No hurt, no pain, just…you feel gross. Embarrassed, even.

“This is childish. We’ve barely been dating over a month.” You state as a fact, uncaring if he can process the words at all. “I’m not doing this. We’re done. Have Jihoon take you back to your place.”

And before he can even fathom saying something back to you, you leave.

It’s a very bad feeling to walk into a party arm in arm with someone you imagine being with for a long time, and then walking out of that same party not three hours later alone, and seemingly broken up.

You meant what you said though, even if you could practically see your words go through one of his ears and out the other. It’s too early in the relationship to be dealing with that. Arguably, there should never be a time in a relationship actually, where you have to practically force someone out of your boyfriend’s too-welcoming grasp.

Ah, it’s shameful really. Given that you did your best to be a good girlfriend to him despite what happened with his dad, yet he couldn’t even offer you the decency of at least pretending to love you while drunk?

You really didn’t pay much mind to his drinking until now. You knew he was a bit of a mess before but most college kids are, you thought. Seeing it first hand and how it can impact your relationship though? Yeah, Chan has a drinking problem and it’s one you’re not willing to work through with him.

Partially because you’re hurt by what he’s doing and partially because the guilt of everything that happened before you started dating stresses you the fuck out.

Maybe it’s better that you keep your distance from not only Mingyu, but Chan too.

And you know, that sounds like such a great idea. You could start over, you could find someone new and slowly get to know them before eventually falling in love, getting married, so on and so forth.

And as you simmer over the frustration, too, too sober, you jump into your car and start driving. Where? You’re not sure. The path you’re going doesn’t lead to home at all, but you continue nonetheless. Paying too-close attention to each stop sign and red light, until–

Well.

Is it really so shocking to find yourself here of all places?

It’s a quick trip up the steps and the knocks you lend the door are even quicker.

There’s so much resentment inside of you at this moment when none other than Mingyu creaks the front door open. His son just fucked you over, his son was supposed to be a good boyfriend, his son just threw you away for some girl at a fucking frat party and you want to know why.

Sure, you should be standing in front of Chan right now to get the answers, but you’re not. You’re here. You’re fucking here, on Mingyu’s front porch, glaring at him much like you’d be glaring at his son.

Mingyu, on the other hand, is shocked to see you at his door by yourself. He reluctantly lets you inside without a word spoken. He sees the expression on your face and can’t help but feel the anxiety in his gut bubble up to his throat.

There’s tension in the air as he looks at your eyes, noting that they appear to be a bit raw.

“What happened?” Mingyu asks, standing by the door with a look of concern as you make your way to his kitchen as if you have the right. “Where’s Chan?” He adds in a voice with even more concern.

To you, as you sigh and look at him when he makes his way into the kitchen behind you, all you can see is that same protective father from the night you and Chan almost slept over.

“I broke up with him.” You roll your eyes, ignoring how glassy and wet they feel.

No, you won’t cry over this.

“Oh, I’m sorry to hear that.” He tilts his head with question, and you know he has more to say about it but you don’t really care to indulge him right now.

“Did you raise him to be that way?” You ask, looking down and feeling frustrated. “To get bored of a relationship after a few weeks?”

Part of you knows these words include double edged swords. Who else would Chan have learned this from, anyway? With Mingyu and his all-too-caring hands acting like there’s a fucking spark somewhere in the room when you’re with him to Chan doing the exact same thing only to have both of them act as if you moving on isn’t a bother?

“I most certainly did not teach him that.” Mingyu defends himself with a huskier tone than he’s ever used with you before. “What did he do?”

“This girl was all over him tonight and when I split it up he got annoyed with me over it.” You sigh, rolling your eyes as you plop down on a bar stool. “Practically told me I was trying to control him, so I broke up with him.”

“Ah,” Mingyu nods, leaning against the counter. “He must have been drinking. I did tell him he needed to slow down on it, but he doesn’t exactly listen to me.”

“He doesn’t listen to fucking anyone.” You throw your arms up, eyes threatening to tear up against your will.

Not because you’re sad, but for so many reasons aside from that. One, you just broke up with Chan. Two, you ran to fucking Mingyu over it? Three, you miss Mingyu and that’s the obvious reason as to why you’re here but that doesn’t make it right. And, well, four, the fact that he didn’t immediately smile and kiss you upon learning you’re single again is beyond frustrating.

Mingyu really did move on.

He really did let you cut it off.

There’s a long moment of silence before you hear Mingyu sigh and look at you, studying your face with a tense jaw.

“Well,” He starts, “Is there a reason you came here over this? I don’t know what you want me to say.”

You’re not sure why those words shock you, but they do. In reality, from outside of yourself anyway, you can see how strange it must be that you came running to snitch on Chan. What’s worse is that Mingyu probably thinks you have some sort of ulterior motive behind being here.

Which, yeah, maybe you did. In your rush of frustrations even you didn’t understand why you ended up here over this. Maybe part of you did want the comfort from him. Maybe you do want him to side with you, and hug you close despite being the one who broke it off.

Still, Chan did fuck up.

What part of your breakup should lend you the opportunity to come running back here though? You ghosted Mingyu to date his son. What gives you the right to be sitting in his kitchen right now? What do you expect him to say about all of this?

“Oh, I’m so sorry babe, let me make it better.” or “I knew he couldn’t treat you the way I can.”

Ah, fantasies. All of them are fantasies. As much as you’d love for Mingyu to say these things to you, realistically, he wouldn’t.

He couldn’t.

And somehow, knowing that and realizing it hurts a little more than breaking up with Chan. It’s proof that Mingyu lost interest in you too. Hell, you’re sure he lost interest the second he learned of you dating Chan. Given that he was suspiciously supportive of it, and that he even seemed happy about it?

Perhaps he was just happy that whatever you and him had going on was over. Maybe he was relieved that he didn’t have to ghost you himself.

Maybe you were stupid to involve yourself in any of this. Stupid to so boldly seduce Mingyu, stupid to willingly jump into a relationship with Chan, stupid to somehow believe that Mingyu would care at all about the situation as a whole.

You guess the two really are alike, and that Mingyu did raise Chan to be cold and uncaring when the mood strikes him.

“I guess you’re right.” You sigh, sniffling once and wiping your face before shooting up and onto your feet. “I really shouldn’t have come here.” You avoid his eye contact, feeling too many emotions to be willingly seen right now. “and I think I should go home.”

He looks at you, nodding slowly.

“Yeah, that would be best.”

Stupid. You feel so fucking stupid.

And as Mingyu watches you turn away from him, he can hear your sniffles. The way your shoulders tense to try and hide that you’re feeling embarrassed and utterly pathetic, he tries not to give in to that emotion.

Yeah, you guys had sex. He knew it was wrong, but even so, he would still feel a pull in his chest to find his son’s girlfriend crying in his kitchen over something that happened. Whether he slept with you or not, it’s only human to want to comfort someone.

But he can’t. Given the circumstances, if Mingyu so much as closes distance, he fears that you’ll see it as an invitation. Or perhaps, he will treat it as one himself. Now isn’t the time, and never should it have been time to invite you into his bed the way he did previously.

He needs to be careful in this situation, regardless of how his heart pulls.

Never did he want to see you hurting internally like this.

And so, he tries to leave it alone. He tries to block out the sound of your shuffled footsteps walking away from him, and even harder does he try to block out those silenced sniffles from you.

You feel so out of it as you make your way to the door. How you got into this situation isn’t too difficult to understand though. It was so easy to fall into it, and goddamn did it feel good at first. Now though? Ah, it hurts.

Sure, you liked a guy and he turned out to be an asshole. That’s something that has and will happen to you time and time again, but you guess the whole fucking his dad thing makes it a lot worse in your head.

Even so, you don’t know why you thought you could come to Mingyu for comfort. Like he’d wisp you off your feet and throw his own child under the bus. Your ego needed a check, and goddamn did both of these guys give it to you.

That’s his son and you’re just…a girl.

To think you’re really alluring enough to keep Chan from straying his eye…to think you’re enough to get Mingyu to side with you and touch you again?

So fucking stupid.

And god, this walk to Mingyu’s front door feels damning. You swear hours pass with each step but you’re sure it’s only been a few seconds.

You realize that when you step past that front door, it’ll be the last time you’ll ever be in this house. The last time you’ll ever feel the gravel of this driveway under your tires, the last time Mingyu will ever see you walk away from him.

It wells up inside you when you reach for the doorknob, unable to wait much longer to just move on from all of this. You want to lock it all behind this front door, instead of living with it yourself, forcing Mingyu to do it instead.

Then, in a sudden twist of fate, you feel your body shiver at a rush of cold air behind you followed by warm arms wrapping you up entirely.

You feel as if the breath is knocked out of you at the feeling, that cold door knob in your palm radiating with heat now as your hand is pulled away from it. You’re pulled from the door entirely, actually, and a rush of emotions hits you when you feel Mingyu’s broad chest against your back.

You can’t help it.

The tears on your cheeks are more from frustration than sadness, and you’re quick to try and wipe the arms that the tears fall against, but he still just holds you there. Strong arms forcing you into a reality that felt so far out of reach just moments before, forcing those warm tears to continue falling out of disbelief now, rather than frustration.

You’d love to believe that this is just your mind playing tricks on you. Knowing you came here just to see if Mingyu would let you waste another night without Chan and with him. Running on emotions, really. It’s a trait you should probably work on, but really. You do wish it wasn’t real. That these arms around you really are just phantom weight that your heart is conjuring up.

That the chin dropping to your left shoulder isn’t a man that’s been violating your thoughts time and time again.

That this isn’t exactly what you want.

“Don’t hate me.” Mingyu whispers against his better judgment. He can’t help it though, the need to think of himself upon watching you touch that fucking doorknob hit him harder than anything else could have just moments ago.

He never wanted to be in competition with his son, but fuck. He wants to at this point. He knows he can be what you need and he wants to be what you need so badly. Does he understand why? Of course he doesn’t. Something about this is so wrong and he knows exactly why it’s wrong. Does it stop him though?

It almost did.

“I don’t want you to leave here hating me.” He continues.

The whisper against your neck feels so warming, sending goosebumps all over your body but you try to stay where you are. Even with your knees buckling under you, even when he holds you up and tighter against him.

It’s the first time in several weeks since you’ve felt these arms around you. And fuck, you thought you’d be able to get over how they feel, you really thought that this heavy and overwhelmingly gentle grip would be a thing of the past. After all, it’s all you needed it to be, but here you are, feeling heartbroken over the fact that you kept yourself from this for far too long already.

You feel butterflies in your stomach flutter up to your throat, swallowing around a pathetic whimper of emotional release.

“Just stay the night.” Mingyu adds after hearing your whimper, somehow holding you impossibly closer.

You stand frozen, listening to his words and wondering if this is real. You feel too warm to pretend it’s not happening though, and it takes a moment to work up the courage to turn in his grasp.

You almost forgot what it felt like to not be teased or played with. Chan really was so playful with you, to the point that it almost felt cruel at times. Mingyu though, the way he steps back and gives you the space to simply look at him? Gives you the time and space to contemplate the situation and decide whether or not you want to navigate it at all?

At this moment, looking at him and his apologetic stare, seemingly feeling sorry that you’re going through what you’re going through while simulationaly wanting you, you can’t help but let the feelings for Chan die once and for all.

If you’re really about to do this with Mingyu, you can’t do the back-and-forth again. You have to choose, and the choice is so fucking obvious.

Arguably, it’s always been obvious.

And as you keep eye contact with Mingyu, you can see something in his head break. That softened look in his eye turning to something….unabashedly crazed. As if to tell you to take the reins before he does it himself. It serves as a pleasant reminder that you’re not the only one weak when it comes to being alone together.

You’re not the only one with guilt, temptation, and lack-of-care for morals when the two of you are together.

You’re not alone in this.

Mingyu is falling just as quickly as you are.

Tumbling, spinning, fucking rolling in the idea that this doesn’t have to end.

Honestly, with the matching gaze, Mingyu almost wishes you would walk away from this. From him. He almost wishes you could be smarter than he is in this situation. Wishes you were stronger than him and stronger than this.

But he’s thankful that you’re not, because having the ability to watch you blink up at him like this again is flooring. In fact, he’s spent countless nights trying to push this very image out of his head due to respect for his son.

Where is that respect now?

Nowhere within him, and god is he thankful for it. Why should he have respect for a relationship that’s no longer there? Why should he continue to deny, deny, deny?

He’s not in denial anymore, not with those pretty eyes looking at him like this. Not with those lips parting for each hopeful breath. Not with those hands gripping onto him for dear life, hoping for nothing more than a hug but knowing there’s so much more behind said hug.

God, he’s melting again. For you, he’s fucking melting.

“You need to tell me to stop, right now,” He says in a hopeless whisper, as if someone else can hear him. “Because I’m tired of pretending I have self control around you.”

And you react to those words with another pretty blink and a short shake to your head. Solidifying that he isn’t alone in the need, that he isn’t insane to want this, that he isn’t hated by you.

It doesn’t take much, really, for him to take a step backwards. He can feel you walk with him, so he continues, walking back, back, back. Your body instinctively follows him, and you think you would follow him to the ends of the earth if you could.

Back. Back. Back. Until the two of you are in the kitchen again, and his back hits the kitchen counter, sending a roll of paper towels to topple over and fall onto the floor. Neither of you pay attention to it, and instead hold each other in wait.

When he drops his hands slightly, loosening his grip around your waist, he breathes out once before licking his bottom lip and fixing his gaze on your lips.

To think either of you have self control at this moment is insane. He knows it, you know it, and god fucking damn, the entire universe would know it if they could so much as feel the electricity in this room.

A single blink more up at him leaves him nearly breathless. No more waiting, no more offering space for if you want to pull away. No more outs. He swoops down and lands his lips on yours like he never stopped before. Like it’s natural, like this is where his lips are supposed to be.

And all he can think of at this moment is hoping you never tell him to stop. Hoping that you’re both lost in this situation enough to experience something together just once more, if that’s all it can be. Even if this is all the two of you can be, he wants it. For as long as he can have it, he fucking wants it.

You feel that want through his harsh kisses. Like he’s trying to swallow you up, so intimate with it, so into it. Pouring his whole soul into the way he moves his tongue against yours, the experience behind the way he breathes as he kisses is just as flooring as it always has been. Even now, you don’t compare it to the way Chan kissed you. Mingyu became the standard for everything in your head before, and it was silly for you to ever think someone else could take over that role. There is no comparing Mingyu to anyone else.

Silly, silly fucking thoughts. Logical thinking be damned, Mingyu was the logical choice all along. Morality bringing him down to a fucking notch in your bedpost? An insult. There’s something here, and to ever think that the two of you “just fucked” is so demeaning and belittling.

You knew there was something there. And now, he’s proving it after spending too much time pretending that he couldn’t.

You feel him move you, pushing forward, deepening the kiss and still managing to spin both of you around so that he’s pinning you against the counter now.

“Missed the way you held onto me,” he says breathlessly, lifting your leg and holding it against his waist. “Missed the way you look at me.” He adds, more mindlessly than he has ever been, seemingly lost in the moment with you. “The way you just came into my bedroom and– fuck, i think about it so much.”

No words have ever hit your heart so hard before. As if all this time he was pretending to be okay with your relationship. As if he did care, probably too much.

As if he truly did miss you.

And he proves it with every breath, grasp, kiss, and movement. It’s like he doesn’t have enough time in the world actually, to have you up against him like this. He almost rushes himself with it, pressing you more against the counter than against himself now.

It only takes a few seconds for him to hoist you up on the counter and shrink down himself. Now he’s the one blinking up at you with fond concern on his face, fingers tugging at your shorts to imply he needs them fucking gone ten minutes ago.

Your breath hitches for what you think could be the millionth time since you got here, but you lend him a little lift to get your shorts and panties off in one go.

“Ahh,” He coos after tossing your clothing to the side mindlessly, both hands gripping your legs and spreading them wide as he stands back up to his full height and fits himself against you again. “Still so pretty,” He continues his string of compliments to you, dipping his head down just to get another taste of your lips on him.

His mind is entirely unsure of what to do first now that your bottoms are off, really. He’s spinning for you, and his hands search and grip all over you at the very idea that you’re propped up on his kitchen counter right now.

The same counter he used to cook dinner for you and his son.

Like a fucking dream.

And you can feel how hard he is when he presses against you more and more. His kiss so deep, his hips against you and reminding you of everything he’s made you feel before. Already you feel like you’re flying, but you know better than anyone that he has all the ability in the world to make you feel as if you’re fucking soaring.

“Mingyu–” You choke out between kisses, trying to get a word in. “Let me.”

And just like the first time he ever felt your hands on him, he feels the way your palm slides down and cups his length to its best ability. His eyes go blank, the feeling so familiar and good to him that all he can do is throw his head back with a breathy chuckle.

“Fuck, missed you.” He states as if it’s final, pressing his hips more and more against your palm as he dips right back down to kiss you even harder than before. “You have no idea.”

And then it’s like a spiral of messy, wet kisses, and his hips going from needy thrusts against your weak hand to suddenly having your hands gripping the edge of the counter as he sinks down and just…

“God,” You gasp at the first feeling of his warm tongue. “Mingyu…”

He’s not tasting, he’s devouring.

And he doesn’t respond, instead, he flutters his eyes shut and breathes deeply through his nose so that he never needs to pull his tongue out of you again.

It’s like he can’t get enough of it. Never has he missed the taste of a woman on him like this, so wet and pretty when he’s licking. More and more dripping out of you just for him to swallow up and daydream about later.

His tongue has a mind of its own at this moment when he flicks and sucks every part of you he can reach. Your clit only abandoned momentarily so he can lick deep into you before trailing back up with a deep and heavenly sigh of relief.

His hands remain at your thighs, gripping you so tightly that you can tell he’s afraid you may dissolve in front of him. That all of this is just some wet dream that he’ll wake up from just before his own release.

But no, you’re here. In the flesh, feeling this grip and feeling that feverish tongue greedily eat you from the inside out. Both of you are seemingly overwhelmed with the fact that it’s happening again. Or rather, finally you’re together again.

And you can’t help it when your fingers find purchase in his hair, moaning out and echoing his name against his kitchen walls. He moans alongside you, feeling those gentle fingers scratch against his scalp in such a sweet and pleasurable way.

If he could show you how much he needs this, he would. But this is all he can do for you to prove it, and he hopes that it’s enough.

It isn’t long before he’s losing composure, flicking his tongue so fast against your clit that you can’t help but overpower his grip and close your legs around his head. He chuckles against your clit at that, keeping up with the assault of his tongue, listening to the way you pant above him, feeling you pull his hair, all while your legs unintentionally choke him out.

Fuck, it’s too good. You’re too good.

So, he continues and laps away like his life depends on it up until you practically lift from the counter, using your legs around his shoulders as your only form of balance when you press so hard against his tongue that all he can do is press back.

He has no breath at this moment, sucking your clit so hard into his mouth that his cock, quite literally, nearly explodes in his pants right then and there at the sheer desperation you share with him at this moment.

And then your legs instantly loosen and you fall limp against the counter, your cum pouring out of you with each clench and shake of your body. It takes everything in him to pull his tongue away, but fuck, he needs to swallow those pretty, whined little sounds you’re giving to him.

Quickly, he slides two fingers into you, fucking them in hard just to feel the clench of you through your orgasm, and his lips are immediately sucking your bottom lip between his teeth.

Your mouth is slack as he tastes each sound, out of breath himself as he tries to lend all of his power behind his fingers, pulling more sounds from you before sinking them in one last time and leaving them there as he kisses the last of your orgasm out of you.

“Shh,” He shushes you when he uses his other arm to pull you closer to him, which only forces his fingers deeper into you. “Baby, shh.” He continues to soothe you through it, still kissing, still feeling your slick gush around his fingers. “You’re shaking.”

That little chuckle he lets out when he says those words brings you back to reality, the body-shocks of your orgasm finally subsiding just to tune in to the lack of guilt he feels. In fact, he seems proud.

And he fucking should feel proud.

“Fuck,” You breathe against his lips, wiggling your hips and only then feeling embarrassed by the pool of wet you’re sitting in. “Mingyu, fuck.”

He finally pulls back, keeping his fingers in you still, and tilts his head at you.

“Mm,” He hums, nodding to himself. “Did you forget?”

You blink at him in a daze, clenching his fingers unintentionally and wincing at the jolt of pleasure the pads of his fingers offer to your g-spot. You find yourself shaking your head, despite not knowing what the fuck either of you are saying right now.

“Forget how much I love using my mouth on you?” He whispers it in such a filthy and deep whisper that almost instantly you’re clenching your legs around his hand. And he only chuckles again.

“Come here–” He says this time, pulling you from the counter and quickly holding you up on shaky legs. “Hold on to me, sweetheart.”

Ah, memories rush to your mind. He’s said that to you before only this time there’s more behind it. You cling to him easily even as he dips his hand down and leaves no room for question when he skews his sweatpants down.

“Leg,” He whispers now, wrapping an arm around you and tapping the bottom of your right thigh. “Up.”

And you listen to his directions in a daze, lifting one leg and wrapping it around his waist as he uses a strong hand to hold you up. Both of your arms shoot around his neck when you feel it, the tip of his cock being tapped against your still sensitive clit.

“You okay?” He asks one last time, holding you so close to him that he truly can’t help but buck forward before you lend him any sort of answer.

Your head falls against his shoulder with a frantic nod, and his body moves on its own as a response. He immediately presses his hips forward and up while simultaneously sitting you right back into your mess from before. There, you fall back against both of your palms and wrap both of your legs around his waist when you feel the stretch.

It’s so strange to know this familiar feeling of him sinking into you, and somehow you think you love it more now than you ever did before.

He’s quick to lean over you with a slack jaw and low rumble of a moan, one arm wrapping around your waist to scoot you forward on him when he starts to move his hips.

Slowly at first. Just feeling you again.

His mouth remains slack, throat drying out at all of the sounds he wants to give you. God, you’re so wet for him always. The fit is so good. The way your pussy grips him with each drag out, only to pulse around him with each push in.

“You always take it so well–” He chokes out with another low moan, snapping his hips forward to quicken his pace. “Fuck, don’t ever–” He stumbles over his words, trying to hold them back but unintentionally saying more and more with each moaned out breath. “Don’t leave like that again.”

The words hit you harder than anything else right now. Even as he plunges his cock in and out of you so deep, it pulls nothing more than a whimper out of you with a quick shake of your head. You shoot up, arms wrapping around his shoulders, fingers buried into his hair.

Instantly you cry. Like you needed to hear Mingyu do more than just ask or plead. You need him to tell you what he wants. You need a threat. A demand.

“That’s it baby,” He smiles against your ear, pressing in deep and flexing his cock to stretch your walls out around him. “Hold onto me.”

And you do. You hold him as tightly as you can, feeling him and only him at this moment.

He only moves faster after that, fucking into you with more force than you ever remember him doing before. He presses into you so hard, and pulls out even faster, only to press back in harder, and harder, and harder.

Over and over again until you’re practically yelping through each thrust. Until he’s releasing small, animalistic grunts.

Until he can’t do it anymore. This position, in this room? It’s not enough.

He lifts you easily, loving the way you cling to him like a goddamn koala, keeping his cock buried into you as he walks you quickly to his couch. You land against the soft cushions in a mess of movements, and his hardened chest lands against you just a moment later.

As if he never stopped, he’s right back to dragging his hips back and forth, this time with more comfort, and his lips immediately fall to your neck.

His hands? Right up your shirt, groping, pinching, pushing, pulling.

He’s going absolutely insane, spiraling into a world of nothingness with you as he plunges into you like his life depends on it. Grunting and breathing you in and out, feeling his own weeping cock yearn to be deeper, deeper, fucking deeper in you.

You can’t even think straight, unable to remember if he’s ever been with you like this before. Your mind is so foggy, so in love with the man on you right now that you don’t really even care.

People always say that actions speak louder than words. Never once did you imagine that a person could move this way with you and speak so loudly with skin alone.

Never have you felt so wanted.

Never have you been so needed.

And he doesn’t stop. His hips keep pace with each moan against you, his hands search and find, only to search again and grip you so tightly that you fear he will leave swollen imprints.

You don’t mind. In fact, you want nothing more than to have Mingyu lose himself with you. Still, you can’t muster up any coherent words for him right now, because every sound you make is broken and dripping with the need for more of him.

Forever more, nothing less.

“God,” He breathes out when he looks down at you, hips still moving at a painful pace. “When you look at me like that–”

His eyes roll back for a moment mid sentence before he’s heaving in a breath and his hips slow to a long and languid drag.

“When you look at me like this, it’s so hard to not–” He holds his words back with a shameful chuckle, shutting himself up with a kiss to your lips as he furrows his brows and puts his focus back into his deep thrusts.

His words run circles in your head though, finishing his sentence for him in so many blissful ways that you feel your body tense at the pure excitement. Feeling his hips spread your legs with each thrust, making you feel sore all over, all of it, excitement.

“Hard not to, what?” You manage to breathe out against his lips, and his hips stutter at the way your voice breaks with each press into you.

“Don’t.” He nearly pleads, pulling his hands from you and instead using them to rest at both sides of your head, balancing all of his weight there as he drops his forehead to yours. “Don’t encourage me right now.”

You blink your eyes at him when he lifts his head again, feeling the way he slows his hips to a stop only to hold himself in place, throbbing inside of you. His eyes remain on yours, as if he wants you to challenge every word he says to you right now.

“Hard not to–” You breathe out, feeling him snap his hips as if to warn you. “What? Mingyu.”

He stares into your eyes, sucking his bottom lip in as he tries to remain composed. You only clench tighter around him though, causing a sort of sobbed groan to leave his throat this time.

“Tell me.” You whisper this time, clenching around him again and shifting your own hips to fuck yourself on him.

His eyes squeeze shut as he drops his forehead against yours once more, chuckling out another moan at how impossible you are to him.

“It’s hard to think I don’t want this.” He admits in a shaky breath, feeling the way you slide his cock in and out of you with pleasurable ease. “You.” He continues. “Hard to believe I’d ever be satisfied with you doing this with anyone other than–”

You pause, clenching unintentionally only to feel him take over again, dangerously close to his own orgasm.

“Me.” He finally says, cutting you off from responding by lifting from you entirely, angling his hips, and fucking dragging his hips back and forth just to send pointed japs against your g-spot.

After being so…protective? Or possessive, maybe? He can’t help but feel embarrassed by his intense need to have you. Not just now, no. Not just because he’s horny out of his mind for you, but because he’s already felt the frustration of not having you while you stood in front of him.

With your hand wrapped with his son’s.

Never again.

He wants this more than you know, more than he should ever admit to you.

“Mingyu–” You try to get out, but he throws a hand forward, more forceful than he’s ever been when he slips two fingers into your mouth just to keep you from enticing more truth from him.

The way you suck in those fingers with a moan is enough to drive him over the edge, but he tries to hold off.

He really tries.

But he can’t, as he falls forward with his fingers loosely hanging from your still licking mouth, and there, he empties himself entirely into you.

“Fuck–” He groans in frustration, his body jolting with each pulse. “You’re so–”

You can feel each pulse and push of his thick ropes of cum, shooting inside of you only to squelch out with each little push his hips offer. And his face, nuzzled so close against your neck now that you can feel the way his breath stutters with each wave of the orgasm.

All the way until he manages to lift with dizzy eyes, pulling his hips back to leave you empty as his cum drips out and onto the couch.

There, he stares down at what he’s done to you before panic washes over him.

It’s too late to go back now.

“You’re so–”

Silence, as every thought leaves his mind when he looks at you. How could he have ever formed words in the first place when you look up at him like this?

Like he’s the whole world.

The next morning, you sleep deeply next to Mingyu in the bed you missed so much. With the scent of him surrounding you and the weight of his arm thrown over you. His big and heavy limbs holding you close even in his deep sleep is enough to keep you locked into your own restful sleep.

You feel so safe, so warm, so comfortable. Like this is where you belong.

Nothing inside of you pulls with anxiety at this. In fact, you’re entirely too happy over the fact that you found yourself here the night before. Who cares about the circumstances anyway?

And as you lay there, half-asleep to roll over and nuzzle your nose against his neck, you breathe in deeply, lulling yourself back to sleep in his warmth.

That is, until you hear a ‘click’ of his doorknob turning and instantly you feel your full heart shrivel to almost dust.

“You’re fucking joking.”

Oh my god. The fear of opening your eyes is intense but you know that voice like the back of your hand. Your eyes open against your own will and your body turns over to see Chan, standing right there at the door with a murderous glare directed at you.

You wish it took you longer to process his figure, because honestly, you were feeling so warm in Mingyu’s grip, but now Mingyu, himself, is aggressively pulling himself away from you and rolling out of the bed.

He’s standing to his feet instantly as if he wasn’t just attached to you at the fucking cock. On the plus side, at least, he put on sweatpants before the two of you fell asleep together. Unfortunately, he also put one of his shirts on you to sleep in too.

What Chan is seeing in front of him is nothing that either of you can explain away.

“You’re fucking my dad.” Chan deadpans with a bite in his voice, standing there as he heaves in a breath that seems to get more and more angry as the seconds pass.

“We broke up.” You manage to mutter out, unaware of how to handle a situation like this but knowing deep down that if you continue to see Mingyu, he still would have found out eventually. “You cheated on me, remember?”

Chan rolls his eyes at you.

“Yeah, yeah.” He waves you off just to adjust his eyes over to Mingyu, his father.

Mingyu, towering on the other side of his bed, looks apologetic. He’s unable to explain himself because what Chan is seeing right now is really the only explanation he needs.

“You’re fucking my girlfriend?”

“We broke up!” You cut in again as you repeat yourself with a louder voice, standing from the bed and attempting to walk up to him. Mostly to try and avert his eyes from his father.

The way his eyes look straight past you and at Mingyu is terrifying enough to have you stumble back once you get too close though. It’s like Chan is seeing red, and arguably he has every right considering if anyone should be scolded, it’s definitely you.

“Chan,” Mingyu tries to soothe the conversation as he finally processes what is happening, his voice coming out calm and collected. Not wanting this to escalate, in fact, dead set on making damn sure that it doesn’t escalate.

Another harsh shake of his head, another roll of his eyes, and then he’s fixing his gaze back on you.

“You looked pretty comfortable, how long?”

You look to the floor, then turn to look at Mingyu. Both of you look entirely guilty, surely, but there’s something in you that feels proud. Maybe even relieved that it’s out in the open. After all, like you’ve already said twice, you broke up with him. And for good reason, mind you.

“Why does that matter?” You answer with a bite to your tone now, essentially answering his question.

“You cheated on me?” His voice raises, “With my dad, and still have the audacity to be upset with me over some girl at a party?!”

“No.” Mingyu speaks up. “We stopped. Last night was the first time since–”

“Am I supposed to appreciate that?!” Chan laughs out of dumbfounded rage, stumbling back and out of the doorway with a shake to his head. As if his eyes have to be deceiving him. “What do you mean ‘we stopped.’ ?!”

Chan feels overwhelmed. Like, he knew he fucked up with the way he acted, and really, he does care about you but what in the fuck? This is what he gets for trying to fix it? For coming to his dad first thing in the goddamn morning for advice? This is really what he gets? To see you, all cuddled in and smiling with that stupid fucking pretty face, in his own father’s t-shirt?

Fuck that.

He immediately turns on his heel and stomps towards the front door.

“Chan, hold on!” You call out, gripping his jacket to keep him from leaving. “I was the one who came onto him! Mingyu didn’t even–”

“Mingyu.” He repeats the way you say his father’s name when he turns to face you, disgusted by how naturally it came from your lips. “What else do you call him?”

You stand there in awe, looking even more guilty. You remember how Mingyu told you just to call him by his name, and so that’s all you ever called him. Never any pet names like what Chan is implying.

“Did you whine and cry for it like you always do for me?” He seethes out, inching his face closer and closer to yours. “Was it worth every second?”

“That’s enough,” Mingyu starts, walking up between the two of you and pulling your hand off of his son’s jacket. “Chan, that’s enough.”

Chan watches how gentle Mingyu is with your hand, eyeing how you let go the instant his fingertips touch your skin. His mind is fucking spinning in betrayal right now.

“We need to calm down before we talk about this.”

“There’s nothing to talk about.” Chan barks back, nearly spitting in his father’s face at the way he acts like he’s not the one guilty. “You’ve been fucking my girlfiend.”

And oh, poor fucking Jihoon, standing off to the side with his mouth permanently open in shock. Honestly, Chan was anxious before coming here, questioning Jihoon over and over again on how to explain himself and fix what he fucked up. The last thing he expected was to see none other than Chan’s girlfriend rushing out of Mingyu’s room without pants on, fucking glowing with that after-sex dew.

Oh god. This sucks.

“Chan!” Mingyu raises his voice this time, grabbing his son by both shoulders and forcing him to look at him.

And when Mingyu goes to try and explain himself, there’s nothing he can say. He simply looks at his son as his stoic face turns to that of realization.

All Chan can do is laugh at the audacity before shrugging Mingyu’s hands off of him and glaring at you once more.

“To think I wanted to fix things.” He breathes out, grimacing at you before shoving past you and going straight for the door.

Chan knew he fucked up with you, but it’s not like he slept with the girl. Sure, he was in the wrong to flirt, and to let her be all over him like that, but he’s not the one who went off and fucked someone last night. The fact that you could have broken up with him and fucked literally anyone else is flooring to him. He would have forgiven you if you had it in your heart to forgive him first.

But this? You not only went for his dad, but it hurts more knowing that his own father reciprocated?! More than once, apparently?

You’re both guilty.

You’re both disgusting.

And with that, Chan slams the front door behind him and Jihoon is left staring at the shaking walls before turning to look between you and Mingyu.

Only then do you notice Jihoon there, widened eyes and a big gulp of air.

“Fuck.” You groan, feeling dizzy and nearly falling to the floor right then and there.

Jihoon is quick to see himself out of this awkward situation, and it’s not long before you hear the car peel out of the driveway and down the street.

Fortunately, Mingyu is quick to come up behind you, hugging you as if everything that just happened wouldn’t stop him from touching you again.

Or maybe you’re just too hopeful, because within an instant, his once warm hands feel cold and shaky against you. This hold on you feels…different.

Like it’s out of obligation, not out of want, or need.

Instantly, you’re expecting him to end this right now. To end all of this with you, and it hurts more to think about how he should do that. You wouldn’t blame him, hell, no one would fucking blame him if that’s what this hug you’re getting from him is telling you.

It hurts. Of course it hurts. The inevitable of what any rational person would do in this situation bubbling up as a mass of anxiety in your throat. You can only remain quiet, feeling the soreness take hold on your heart.

Despite Chan being rightfully upset, despite what you’ve done, despite what Mingyu has done, you’re upset over it all simply because you can’t realistically be with Mingyu at the end of the day. No, not without ruining his life.

Not without both of you losing Chan, and to even expect him to do that in the first place should have been your first red flag regarding yourself.

You played them both, unintentionally, but with the best intentions at the end of the day.

And when you feel him hold you closer, that soreness inside of you settles just a bit. All he has to do is drop his chin to your shoulder and talk against your neck with a shaking breath.

“He’s not going to forgive either of us if we continue.” He whispers in a voice that seems both broken and firm at the same time. And he nuzzles his nose against your neck, inhaling deep before releasing a drawn out sigh with a tighter hold on you. “I understand if you want to be with my son, but I won’t be able to pretend I’m happy for either of you from this point forward.”

You pause, feeling the anxiety well up and jumble in your head.

“Is this an ultimatum?” You shake yourself from his grasp, feeling overwhelmed, guilty, happy that he’s suggesting that maybe, just maybe, he’d fight to keep you for himself.

But no. Instead, Mingyu stands tall, no longer shrinking himself to your size and glancing at you with a slow and stubborn shake of his head. Now, he’s unable to keep his eye trained on you, the weight and shame of what the two of you are doing is pushing him down, down, down.

“It’s wrong.” He explains as if you don’t know. The reality is that you do know, you just prefer not to listen. You prefer not to learn from this. “I can’t just pick you over my own son.”

You try to step forward to try and keep him from speaking. You’d do anything to keep him from speaking right now, but he isn’t budging. He doesn’t break like he usually does when you’re this close, in fact, he takes a step back and away from you.

You feel your heart hit the floor at that moment.

“So, it’s not an ultimatum.” Your voice cracks. “I just lost both of you.”

Mingyu can only nod, trying to ignore that crack in your voice and the tenseness in your shoulders.

“Which, somehow, doesn’t shock me.” You lend a pained laugh at the situation alongside a sniffle.

“Realistically.” Mingyu finally responds, his own voice wavering just for a moment. “I shouldn’t have given in, and I shouldn’t have led you on either. We both knew it couldn’t work.”

Why do you feel blamed for this?

“And at this point, I can’t give approval of you pursuing my son either. There’s too much between us that has happened, I wouldn’t be able to handle seeing you again.”

“But what about everything from last ni-” You start, reaching forward and trying to grasp him, unaware that you’re about to start pleading.

“Don’t.” Mingyu’s voice wavers again when he says it, pulling away from you for what he hates for the last time. “Let’s just leave it.”

And with that, you’re left with no choice.

You leave, realizing that Chan probably knew from the moment he pulled in considering your car sits in the driveway proudly.

There’s nothing left here for you.

Days turn to weeks, and weeks turn to months with no contact from Chan nor Mingyu. Which, that much is expected but you were still hopeful for a few weeks there.

Not even that you want Chan based on everything that’s happened, more so that you feel like he deserves the deepest apology you could possibly offer to another person. It appears he doesn’t want nor does he need it. Every text is met with the reminder that you’re blocked.

In time, you try to move on too. Each day is becoming easier and easier to forget how you felt, which is insane considering how deep you thought it was originally. There’s still love there, somewhere, but you’re well aware now that there’s nowhere to put it, and there is no one who wants it either.

So, you just…exist with it until it dwindles deep enough inside of you that laughing and meeting new people becomes easy.

Chan, on the other hand, is moving away. Thanks to Jihoon and his pre-planned transfer for the next semester, Chan was quick to jump on the plan with him and try his damndest to get a transfer in too.

It worked out, and he left the city with his best friend in tow without so much as telling you, better yet his father.

In fact, he doesn’t want a damned thing to do with either of you, and feels no pain or interest in thinking about what happened any longer than he already did. Months passed differently for him. They passed happily.

And, well, that leaves Mingyu with his internal fight for his son’s forgiveness after all this time passed.

Not a day has gone by where Mingyu wasn’t fighting with himself on whether to get on his knees and fucking beg Chan to talk to him, or to give in, again and again, just to see you. Just to feel you. Just to hear you.

He’s going fucking insane, actually. Thankfully though, after months worth of attempts to gain forgiveness, Chan made himself very clear that he never wanted to speak to Mingyu again. Well, that leaves little to no room for Mingyu to keep trying. At least not for now.

He is forever thankful to Jihoon though, despite knowing what he’s done to Chan, Jihoon still sends him update texts.

“Chan has a new girlfriend,” Mingyu found out just last month about that.

“His grades are really good, but I wouldn't suggest asking him home for the holidays. He plans to spend them with me and my family,” Mingyu heard just a week ago.

And, well, despite the fact that his own son has rightfully disowned him, he still feels proud that Chan appears to be happy and doing well. Even with a father as useless as he is these days, he truly is proud of him.

So that leaves us here. Cool winter air outside, heated arguments and painful words left long forgotten to burn little patterns into every heart that was involved in the situation.

If there’s anything Mingyu can fuck up now, he can’t imagine the outcome being worse than it already is. He tried everything to fix the situation, and it appears that this is just how things are going to be from now on.

Without his son.

But not without you.

After a long and exhausting day out with your friends, you feel good. Happy, even. Genuinely happy for the first time without the weight of past situations weighing you down. You were happy to make it home and even happier to enjoy a nice and warm shower alone.

Because finally you feel okay being entirely alone. You feel comfortable.

That is, until you check your phone and notice that you received a text message hours prior to now. Your stomach instantly drops reading the name, because you really thought you’d never live to see the day where he reaches out to you.

Mingyu: can we talk?

Mingyu: just talking. nothing else.

The fact that he still had your number saved. The fact that you remember how the gravel of his driveway felt under your tires when you went to see him. The fact that you can remember the coolness his kitchen counter offered to you the last time you spent the night, and the warm bed you woke up in before it went cold.

Just like that, you’re back to square one. Reverting back to all that is Mingyu, and all of that silent, reluctant love he gave you despite the problems that would arise.

And upon Mingyu finally seeing you again, he really, really can’t help it.

Immediately, he’s giving in to a woman who ruined his relationship with his son without her so much as trying, giving in to the touch and feel of another person, and giving in to his own weakness.

He missed you.

He always fucking misses you.

And at the end of the day, that’s really all he can say about the entire situation. He misses you, and despite the fact that Chan will never forgive him for this, the truth of the matter is that sometimes two people grow feelings for each other regardless of the surrounding circumstances. Chan wasn’t going to forgive him to begin with anyway.

Regardless of losses and gains. Regardless of the whispering in town. Regardless of the pain and heartache that could inevitably come from this, Mingyu cannot keep his heart to himself.

Especially when you so willingly accept it. Here, tangled in the sheets of his bed, hands intertwined his with, hushed breaths and warm tears.

He doesn’t think he could ever regret what he’s done with you. In fact, it’s possible that he’d be willing to lose much, much more than to give you up again.

There’s only one thing that drives a person to go to such drastic lengths. It’s not selfishness, it’s not lust, and it’s certainly not spite. A nagging feeling so ingrained within the heart, digging and prodding until the sorrow overflows that empty piece and fills a person with so much dread and dilemma that all they can do is either rip their hair out or fucking bite the bullet.

Some would say it’s love.

Mingyu would say it’s you.

#seventeen smut #mingyu smut #kim mingyu smut #svt smut

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finelinevogue · 9 months

Text

lost n found

summary - you are lost in italy the night before your wedding

pairing: fiancé!harry x reader

word count: ~2k

You were definitely lost.

Drunk and lost.

To: harry - im so sor:(y

From: harry - Baby, you’re fine❤️ Drop me your location and I’ll come find you. Please don’t move xx

To: harry - okaY.i love you xox

So currently you were sat on a stone wall, somewhere on a random side street in a small Italian village, waiting for your boyfriend to come and pick you up.

Harry had gone out with a few of his closest guy friends for drinks, for one last night as an unmarried man.

You and your girls had gone out for drinks too and you had mentioned to the boys that you would catch them up later.

At some point during the evening, though, you and the girls had all gone to the beach and you had gone to the toilet. It had been a trek to find one, only when you tried to find your way back you took so many drunken wrong turns that you couldn’t tell your legs from rights now.

Reading a map was useless, but sending Harry messages wasn’t.

You originally hadn’t wanted to send him any messages, not wanting to ruin his last night a “free” man but at some point you had become a little too lost to care.

Swinging your legs as you sat on the wall, you watched the birds fly overhead amongst the clear blue sky. You detailed all the cracks in the old buildings and counted twelve windows on one wall alone.

Your brain was fuzzy and your eyes kept on wanting to close from tiredness. You would be blaming a lot of your girl friends tomorrow for the continuous passing of shots your way.

Your phone rang in your hand.

“Yeah?” You answered, not even checking the caller ID.

“Baby? Love? Can y’hear me?” Harry asked.

“Yeah.”

“You’re not where y’said you’d be.” Harry sounded stressed.

“N-no I am. I sent you my location a-and I haven’t moved.”

You stood up and could feel yourself starting to panic. If Harry didn’t know where you were then there was no way of you knowing. Harry wasn’t ever a big enough drinker to get really drunk, unlike you.

You only ever got drunk when you felt you were in a safe environment, like tonight had been surrounded by all your closest girl friends. Or always with Harry.

Now that you didn’t have anyone and you were still drunk, you were getting anxiety of being alone and intoxicated.

Cue to shaky hands and tears.

“Are y’sure baby?”

“Y-yes. Fuck me. You’re not going to find me. Fuck. I don’t – shit – I.. I’m…”

“Hey, hey. Y/N, baby. Woah, slow down for me, okay? I am coming for you, okay? I just.. It was my mistake and I just need to relocate myself. You’re okay.”

Your phone was shaky in your hands and you started twisting your body around, as if expecting some random creepy guy to come around the corner and take advantage of you.

The twisting didn’t help your head, though, and was making you feel increasingly dizzy and sick.

“Y/N?” Harry asked urgently and you wondered whether you’d missed something he said.

“I-I’m scared.” You honestly said, backing yourself against a wall and trying to let the cool stone calm you down.

Your tears will no doubt have ruined your minimal makeup by now, not that that was a main priority of yours right now.

“Honey, you’re okay. I’ll be there soon, I promise.”

Harry sounded like he was running.

His voice sounded a little breathy and you could hear the fast movement of wind through the speakerphone.

“Y/N, love, turn on your data.” Harry said.

“I ran out.” You banged your head back against the wall, not even thinking about the pain that just caused.

You whimpered as you sank down onto the floor, knees tucked close to your chest and arm wrapped around your legs. Your phone was still to your ear, with Harry’s voice being the only sane thing in this moment.

“Okay, okay.” Harry muttered to himself rather than you. More running sounded from Harry’s end of the phone. “Baby, y’still there?”

“Mm.”

Your mind travelled to many worst case scenarios and due to how bad they were your panic only increased.

This was supposed to be your last nights as an unmarried couple and you couldn’t help but feel like you’d ruined that. He must’ve been having such a good night.

You’d seen a couple of photos on his private Instagram story and other people’s Instagram stories. Your fiancé looked divine. He just looked so perfect that it was difficult to believe that he had chosen you and you got to call him yours.

It did make you nearly cry that he was thinking of you, via Instagram, though.

“You feeling okay, baby?” Harry asked.

“Don’t know. I’m so sorry, Harry.”

“It’s okay. I’m not angry or upset. Just want to make sure you’re okay, my love.”

“Okay.”

“So you have to be brave for me, okay?”

“Yes, okay.”

You got stuck for a moment, trying to think of possible ways you could calm yourself down and distract yourself. Luckily, Harry was already one step ahead.

“Hey, baby?” He grabbed your attention.

“Yeah.”

“We’re getting married tomorrow.”

You couldn’t help but let the smile take over your face. You weren’t scared at all for tomorrow. You had no nervous jitters. All you felt was love in your heart for your husband to be.

“We are.”

“And you’re going to look so beautiful.”

“So are you.”

“I can’t wait to see you in your wedding dress. I bet it looks so pretty.”

You sniffled, building back your strength and overcoming your anxiety. A lot of your strength came from the love you hold for Harry.

You heard a noise from your left and looked to see a cat rustling through some litter.

Your heart deflated when you realised it wasn’t Harry. You knew he was coming though. He was on his way and he would not stop running until he found you.

It was almost like a bad scene out of a romance movie.

The night before your wedding and something terrible goes wrong. It’s a sign!

“I think it’s just perfectly me.” You said, talking about your wedding dress.

“Sounds perfect to me then.” Harry paused for a moment. “Baby, did you walk under an archway, like, uh, a stone archway covered in pink flowers?”

“I-I don’t know. I don’t remember.” You ran a stressed hand over your forehead.

“Okay. That’s okay.”

“Everyone’s going to be so mad at me.” You began getting frustrated with yourself. “Fuck.” You breathed in a sob and exhaled with a bigger breath.

“Promise you no one’s mad, baby. Gem has messaged me a thousand times asking if you’re okay. I can’t even answer ‘cause this bloody maps apps is a fucking nuisance. I swear to–”

“Harry?” You furrowed your eyebrows, looking up from your knees to check your phone. He was still on the line. “Hello?”

“Y/N!” Harry shouted your name, but not from down the phone.

You could see Harry walking over to you very quickly, clearly panting from having run street after street.

“H.” You dropped your phone and cried as you saw him faster approach you.

Definitely a moment worthy of a romcom.

Harry was probably living his Ryan Gosling dreams.

“Baby, hey. I’m here. You’re okay.” Harry sank down to the floor and scooped his arms around you, pulling you close and squeezing oh so tight.

He sank down to his bum and leaned against the wall, pulling your entirely onto his lap. Too close wasn’t an option right now.

Your arms wrapped around his neck as you sat sideways on his lap. Your face was tucked under his chin and his head rested on top of yours. You cried as Harry held you tight.

You couldn’t see Harry’s facial expressions but he was breathing out sighs of relief, some tears in his own eyes from the adrenaline of trying to find you. He had been just as scared as you, but had to remain strong for you. Now he had you he could let it all out.

“You’re never going to the toilet alone again.” Harry laughed. You laughed back.

“Deal.”

“That was scary.” Harry kind of mumbled, but you heard him anyways. He kissed your head a few times and you melted at the feel.

“Harry.”

“Yeah, love?”

“My head is so dizzy.”

Harry used a hand to tilt your head up so he could see your face. He noticed your mascara ridden face first of all, but beneath that you were all beauty.

“Tequila is only our friend for two rounds, remember?” He laughed at you. He was able to tell from your eyes that you weren’t exceedingly drunk, but definitely tipsy.

“I did not remember.”

He nuzzled his nose against yours as he shook his head with a grin. “You’re such a handful, you.”

“M’sorry.” You pouted.

“Never said I didn’t love you as a handful.”

“Do you? Love me a handful?” You used a hand to stroke over his cheek that had gotten so scruffy with the stubble he was trying to grow.

“‘Course. Love you every way and anyway. Love you so much. Love you until my body literally decomposes my wedding ring off my finger, and then some more.”

“That was dark, even for a 2AM drunk thought.”

“It was, wasn’t it?” Harry chuckled, noticing that smile on your face becoming more and more permanent.

“But I’ll love you for the same.” You promised.

Harry kissed you then, not wasting another moment of this evening away from you. Well, morning now. His lips were soft against yours and you smiled into the kiss, happy that he was here with you even if it was under really weird circumstances.

“Let’s go, trouble. We’ll go back to the hotel and I’ll kiss you all night.”

“Don’t you want to spend the rest of your night with the boys? You know, last night as a free man?” Even though you were suggesting this, all you actually wanted to do was kiss, kiss and kiss him.

“Free man?” Harry furrowed his eyebrows with disgust, “What are you talking about?”

“You know? People say the last night before they get married is their last chance to be free?”

“Why would I need to be free when I’ve got you? I’m choosing you, like I always have. Never needed to be free.”

You smiled warmly at him. “I’m shackling you to me for life.”

“Too right you are, baby. Wouldn’t want it any other way.”

“Now, take me home, trouble.” You giggled.

“Oh. So I’m the trouble now?”

liked by gemmastyles and 682,928 others

yourinstagram tomorrow i get your last name forever <3 p.s. i would like to state that harry bought himself that tshirt :)

view all 78,977 comments

harryfan1 oh to be y/n l/n

jeffezoff Where did you two go?

harryfan2 moustacherry fans rrIISEEEEE

harryfan3 wish my bf supported me with tshirts like that

jamescorden Tequila anyone?

harrystyles I am planning on wearing that tshirt tomorrow.

yourinstagram @/harrystyles the tshirt but nothing else please

gemmastyles @/jamescorden They aren’t coming back for tequila….

#harry styles #harry styles x reader #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles x y/n #harry styles fanfic #ask finelinevogue #harry blurb #finelinevogue #harry styles concept #harry oneshot #harry styles blurbs #harry styles italy #harry styles mustache #harry styles fic #finelinevogue fic #harry styles fiance #harry styles boyfriend

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patscorner · 25 days

Text

FAMILY DINNER PART2

Summary: Chris joins your family for dinner for the first time and it does not go as planned

Tw: Swearing, physical altercation, mentions of blood, verbal arguing, panic attack mentions of alcohol use, mentions of ed, lmk if I missed something

______________________________

The rest of the dinner was just as awkward as you'd thought it'd be. You can't really come back from your father implying you and your boyfriend just fucked in the bathroom of your childhood home, at the first family 'reunion' in 2 years.

So there you sat, eating your food in silence, waiting -no- begging, that someone cut the tension.

And finally someone does. And as they say, careful what you wish for.

"How many plates have you had, dear?" Your mom asked, looking up from her plate. You look back at her, before glancing at your plate and back to at her again.

"This is my second." You say, mouth full of food. You were thankful that people took your mother's talking as an invitation to also continue their conversations.

"Maybe we should slow down, you know? Save room for dessert, which you clearly don't need." She smiles, as if what she said was the best piece of advice she'd ever given anyone.

Her comments always bothered you, no matter how much you were told to ignore them. But when it came to your weight, it hurt the most. The comments were the worst in high school, as you were a little heavier than the average petite high schooler. But it was never as serious as your mom made it. So when you were a sophomore in high school, you developed an eating disorder, where you couldn't eat even if you tried, where you spent hours crying in front of the mirror, wishing you were skinnier to fit your mother's impossible expectations.

You fought that battle for years, 3 years to be exact. Your mom couldn't help because she saw nothing wrong with what you were doing. She would say, 'It's worth it.' And when you're young, you tend to believe everything your parents say because they'd 'never hurt you.' So after you moved out, Chris helped you get help, and you won your long and cruel battle. Obviously, you still have your days and your moments, but it wasn't nearly as bad as it used to be. Not with your new family. People who actually cared.

"S'cuse me?" You say, your voice laced with agitation.

"Well, honey, you don't want to get fat again, do you?" She said, shoveling broccoli into her mouth.

You had stopped chewing completely, making sure you heard her correctly. You looked over at Chris, who was looking at your mom with his jaw clenched. You look back at your mom and out your hand on Chris's thigh as to tell him to relax.

You felt him put his hand over yours and squeeze, a symbol of reassurance.

You sit back in your seat, looking at your plate in defeat. Guess you were done for the night. But your dad wasn't. In fact, your dad was drunk.

"Oh, honey, leave her alone. She's not nearly as huge as she used to be." He slurred, taking another sip from his beer.

"Okay, this isn't neces-" you start, only to be cut off by your parents. Shocker.

"What do you mean? I mean, look at her, David. She's just as big as she was in high school." You mom says gesturing to you.

Your heart dropped, anger and embarrassment filling your veins. "What the fuck, mom?!" You cry out. "Not only is that something you shouldn't say about people, especially your fucking kid, but I'm also right in front of you. At least have some decency to shit-talk me in private." You remove your hand from your boyfriends lap.

Your mom looks at you in shock, and your dad squints at you. "Woah, woah, relax dear. It's not only your fault. You can't help it." She said, reaching for your hand.

You pull your hand away, a look of disgust covering your face. "I don't want to hear that, mom, why's my weight always been a big fucking obsession of yours?" You snap. You feel Chris's hand on your thigh, which you push off quickly. Usually, when you're angry, the last thing you wanted was to be touched.

"It's not my fault. You were huge. I was trying to help you. Nobody wants a pig as their bride, y/n." She spits. Her words feel like daggers, stabbing into your heart.

"You weren't trying to help. You were doing this for yourself. You never cared about it. You only did it because it made you look good to have skinny, petite children. I'm not you or any of them." You gesture to you siblings. The conversations had stopped by now, all of them watching as you and your parents bickered. Embarrassing. "You're a selfish bitch, who never cared about anybody else but herself a-"

"Hey! You watch how you speak to your mother!" Your dad stands up, and instinctively, so did you and your siblings. James and Peter were the first up, while Julia walked over and made sure Maya wasn't in the room.

Nick, Matt, and Chris all stood up too, but they weren't sure what to do, which you would've found funny, but considering the circumstances...

"Let's all relax, okay." Peter attempts to butt in. He's always been so soft-spoken, but if he needs to, he'll beat the shit outta someone. You knew what he was capable of. You'd seen it when your first boyfriend cheated on you.

Your dad directed his attention to Peter. "You shut the fuck up. You have no room to speak because you're a sorry excuse for a son." He drunkenly pointed at Peter.

"You're talking. You can't even see straight half the time, let alone be eligible to give advice." James, your younger brother spits.

Ah, you'd taught him well.

"You watch your mouth before I knock you the fuck out." Your dad spits, and that seems to shut James up. It breaks your heart knowing your father hadn't changed, and when you left, probably laid hands on your younger siblings. And it appears as though Peter's heart broke, too.

Peter stepped closer to your dad, with the same face of anger you'd seem many times before. "You hit them too, Dad? After what you promised!?" He said, his voice raised.

It was all too much. There are too many memories, too many flashbacks. There are too many similarities of past events.

"O-okay, Peter, relax." You attempt, knowing how fast this could escalate. You hold Chris's hand and squeeze tightly.

"Yeah, listen to the pig, Peter." Your father gritted his teeth.

"With all due respect, sir, I'm gonna need you to stop calling your daughter a pig." You hear an unexpected voice. Chris.

Your dad whips his head, staring at Chris with his eyebrows raised, unimpressed. Little did he know, Chris played hockey, and his brothers, who wouldn't hesitate to jump in, also played hockey.

"Chri-" You start.

"No, no, I'd like to hear what he has to say." Your father mocks.

"No! No, please let's just sto-" you get cut off again.

"SHUT THE FUCK UP, Y/N." Your dad yells, taking very quick steps to you.

Chris stood in front of you, Peter and James behind your father.

"Move." He growled at Chris.

Chris sucked his teeth, with fake disappointment on his face. "Sorry, can't do that one, sir."

Your dad huffed, allowing Chris to smell every sip of alcohol he'd drunk. "Move." He stated again.

Chris shook his head. "That's my daughter! Get the fuck out of the way, tough guy."

Chris cocked his head. "Really, because based off what I've seen, you sure don't talk to her like it." He spoke, his voice calm, but stern.

That was it. Your dad snapped. He swung his fist, hitting Chris in the nose. "Dad! What the fuck!" You say.

You watch as Chris doubles over, holding his nose, followed by yelling from everyone in the room. You can't understand anything, but you do know that your dad's got his hands around your collar and is holding you close to his face.

You feel the tears start to fall as the scent of alcohol burns your nose. "You're a little bitch, letting this puny excuse of a man speak to me like that."

"Let her go, dad!" James screamed, followed by Peter's yelling.

You look over and make eye contact with your mom. She stood there, arms crossed, not a single expression on her face. She just let it happen.

Your dad shook you. "LOOK AT ME." He shouted in your face. You closed your eyes, as tears began to fall.

"CHRIS NO!" Nick yells. That's all you hear before you dropped. You didn't realize he was choking you until he let go. You look up and see Chris on top of your dad, landing blows like he if were in a hockey game. Your dad got a few heavy punches in, too, as you expected.

Chris had a bloody nose, a bloody lip, and crimson knuckles. Blood stained his big hands, and you couldn't tell if it was his or your father's.

Matt and Nick finally managed to push Chris out of the house, leaving you and your family. Your dad was still screaming drunk profanities, while James made sure you were okay. Peter and your mom held your dad back from chasing your boyfriend.

You had walked out of the dining room and went to sit on the stairs. Tears streamed down your face as you felt yourself slip into a familiar but unfamiliar trance. You were completely unaware of your surroundings at this point, so lost in your brain that the rest of your body was just frozen.

You don't know how long you are disassociating for, but you heard muffled shouting until you didn't. The yelling was replaced with ringing, something your brain did as a coping mechanism, mostly when you were young and hiding with your siblings in the bathroom while your dad trashed your home.

"-aby, can you take a deep breath from me?" You look up, but your vision is blurred, and you can't make out who's speaking - or anything for that matter.

You blink slowly, eyebrows furrowed in confusion. It usually took you a while to come back to reality during these moments.

"Can someone get her a cup of water?" You hear the voice again, and despite your yearning to speak, you can't get any words out. Your mouth opens, and you try to speak, but it comes out more of a choked whine.

"Shh, I know, sweetheart, it's okay." Chris wipes the tears coming for your cheeks. Your pupils were enlarged, and your eyes were open, but you couldn't see.

"Thank you." Chris muttered as Matt handed him a cup of ice water. "Here, baby." He put his hands in the icy water, shaking them, so his hands are damp. He took your hands, which had a death grip on your hoodie, and rubbed his cold fingers over your knuckles.

You focused on the feeling of his frigid fingers and you felt yourself coming back to reality.

You blink quickly as more tears fall. "Aw ma, don't cry, it's okay, sweetheart." Chris coos, placing his hands on your hips, rubbing his thumbs on the bone.

His attempts to ground you are successful, as your eyes finally focus on his eyes. "Hey, hey, you coming back to me, baby?" Chris asks, his voice soothingly attempting to comfort you.

You nod absent-mindedly, relief flooding your body as you come back to reality.

You take in your surroundings for the first time in what felt like forever. You're sat on the stairs, your hands shaking from the adrenaline flowing through your veins.

You finally make eye contact with Chris, his eyes full of love and worry. He's got a bruise on the side of his face, a busted lip, and blood falling from his nose, smeared on his upper lip.

"Chris..." you say, cupping his face, rubbing his cheeks down to his lip, frowning when he winced. "Baby..."

He pulls away, chuckling lightly. "It's fine, baby, I'm okay. I just wanted to make sure you were safe." He squeezed your hips in reassurance.

"I'm okay." You say. But then your mind screams at you. "Fuck, where's Maya... an-and, James. Oh, fuck, what about Julia and Pet-" your cut off by Chris's lips on yours. You sigh into the kiss, your hands trailing down his neck.

He pulls away and smiles sadly. "Thank you." You whisper, looking down. "Anytime, baby. I'm so sorry. God, I'm so fucking sorry." He said, leaning his forehead on yours.

You shake your head. "It's okay, he's a fucking asshole." Chris kisses your cheek. "Let's get outta here? I made a little bit of a mess."

You raise your eyebrows. "A little?" Chris kisses his teeth and scoffs.

You smile and kiss his cheek. "Anybody would've done it, Chris. It's okay, really." You speak softly.

Chris smiles and helps you up. "Let's go home." He leads you down the stairs and reaches for the door.

But it opens before he can open it.

"Oh my god."

______________________________

(Man, I wonder who that is)

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soov · 8 months

Text

HOW TO PARTY ㅤ. . . ㅤ﹫ lee heeseung ★

꒰ 💭 ꒱ frat boy heeseung & fem reader, +1100 words. ㅤg fluff, hcs. ㅤw suggestive, pet names, kissing.ㅤ🎧 ㅤlibrary

met you at the college’s cafeteria when you tried to get a bag of chips from the vending machine and it got stuck

he was just passing by with his members, but you caught his attention immediately

he was baffled by how much effort you put into trying to get the bag

shaking and kicking the poor thing just because it stole your money

heeseung let his fraternity brothers go ahead and went up to you, placing his palms firmly to the glass and giving the machine a single shake

he could have the fame of a jerk, but he wasn’t heartless

the bag of chips immediately fell down, and he glanced at you when you crouched down to grab them

he was already planning when your wedding would be and how many children you’d have together

his mouth was slightly agape and he couldn’t stop staring at you

you were the prettiest girl he had ever seen in his life

and when you smiled and thanked him, heeseung was a goner

the only thing he managed to do was nod and watch you walk away

hee kept thinking about you for the rest of day

and week

and month too 😓

whenever he managed to catch a glimpse of you in the hallways or lock eyes with you, he cockily smirked at you, bottom lip trapped in between his teeth

he wanted you to think that he was cool!!

as you walked past him, he’d giggle to himself and stare at the floor to tone down his blush

after a month and a half of pining, shamelessly flirting with you, and teasing from his friends, heeseung gained courage to ask you out

and since he had no idea of how to court a girl that wasn’t a spoiled daddy’s girl or a cheerleader

( that only wanted to be around him because of his looks and popularity )

he decided to go for the old-fashioned romance tips that he got from jay, the biggest romantic in the fraternity

the boy bought a giant bouquet of red roses and combed his tousled hair

but still showed up to your last class with his usual loose, oversized clothes

“i just wanted to know if you wanna go out sometime? yeah, yeah! like a date. i mean... wait, what–? you do?! o-oh! okay, perfect!”

heeseung was over the moon when you agreed to go out with him

his face was just as red as the roses he picked for you

dipped a kiss to your cheek with the goofiest grin and scratched the back of his neck awkwardly as he gave you his number

when you two started dating, he began to use your dates as an excuse to not go to the frat parties he used to attend

he never really enjoyed them

loud people trying to shove a bunch of drinks down his throat weren’t his thing

the beginning was nice, but he got tired after two hours into the party and his social battery died out

so a reason to not go was an early christmas gift

“yeah, sorry. my girl and i already have plans. we’ll have a skincare night.”

does not care if people think he’s lame for suddenly being all romantic and sappy with you

“bro... you weren’t like this with your past girlfriends.” “...okay?”

when one of his friends insists on having you and him around, he won’t leave your side

constantly has a hand on your hip as you walk to tug you closer, or on your thigh, rubbing comforting circles on your bare skin

pulls you to his lap when there are no empty spots left on the couches, lazily kissing your shoulderblades with a smile as his friends joke around

heeseung knows how crazy the guys in those raves can get

he doesn’t want anyone making you uncomfortable

won’t ever drink if you’re also drinking! he’ll just chuckle and watch you get drunk and deflate his compliments

“stop flirting with me... i have a very handsome– [ hiccup ] boyfriend. i’m so lucky to have him...” “oh, yeah? i think he is the lucky one to date a pretty girl like you.”

loves to flirt with you ( kinda obvious by now )

if you start the banter first, he’ll be shocked for a moment and fastly go back to his infamous teasing demeanor, firing back a flustering remark

but god forbid if you reply to one of his pick up lines

his brain shuts down and he doesn’t recover from it for a while

‘doll’ is his trademark pet name for you, though, sometimes, he uses ‘baby’ despite saying that it is “too mainstream”

heeseung’s main hobby is pestering you and ( lightheartedly ) embarrassing you

which is something that you wouldn’t expect from a chill and laid-back guy like him

so don’t be surprised if he suddenly shouts something stupid while you walk ahead down the hall

“whoa! you just gonna walk around looking this sexy, baby momma?!”

cue everyone from the frat laughing, but stopping in the same nanosecond because heeseung gave them his blank face

calls you things like ‘hot stuff’ or ‘baby cakes’ whilst pressing his lips to your face, just to hear your giggle because

1: it tickles

2: his pet names are so awfully corny that the only thing you can do is laugh at them

has to kiss you at least once an hour

his definition of kissing, however, is making out with you for hours, until something comes up and you have to stop

holds you by your waist and jaw when doing so, pushing your body into his

you’re pretty sure that his fingers are about to drill their way through your skin

he’s an impatient and desperate kisser; he kisses you as if you were going to leave him

during the rare moments where he pulls aways, he traces an imaginary path down your chin, to your throat and collarbone with his swollen lips

playfully twirls a lock of your hair on his finger while nipping on your neck

grins nonstop when you two manage to fit a quick kissing session in between class breaks

when you have study dates together, he’s only focused on your beauty

his tongue darts between his lips as he eyes every single inch of your face

he already memorized where every mole is, the curve of your nose, the shape of your eyes — everything

and when you scold him for not paying attention to your explanation, he shrugs and smiles with a quick apology

back hugs, breathy whispers in your ear about how gorgeous you look, fleeting glances across the hall, and having his fingertips to trace random shapes on your skin are all common in your relationship

so good luck on keeping up with him 😁

⠀ ⠀ SOOV © 2O23

ㅤ𝗿𝗲𝗶’s notes ⪩⪨ first work on the new acc with my fav ramyeon lover 😊 slowly joining the hee cult watch out

#ㅤ𝓡.#k-labels #k-films #enhypen x reader #enhypen fluff #enhypen scenarios #enhypen headcanons #enhypen heeseung #enha x reader #enha fluff #enha headcanons #heeseung x reader #heeseung fluff #heeseung scenarios #heeseung headcanons #lee heesung x reader #lee heeseung fluff

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dazednmatthews · 11 days

Text

neighbor!chris x reader: fight night (part eleven point five)

a/n: surprise!!! everyone say thank you cherrie :p

if someone asked y/n how she was feeling ten seconds ago, her answer would’ve been amazing.

in those last ten seconds however, between the sixth, no seventh.. maybe eighth shot glass her and nick had slammed back down on to the bar top, she had been faced with temptation at its finest.

amber, the same bitch who was the cause of the unwavering heartbreak y/n had been facing for the last two weeks, was standing in the corner of the bar with two other girls. she hadn’t noticed y/n yet, didn’t even know that her ass was five seconds away from kissing the ground.

“i hate how good alcohol tastes after the first four drinks,” nick sighs happily, flagging the bartender down once again and putting two drink orders for him and his friend in.

“mhm.” y/n isn’t listening in the slightest, having an inner tug of war with the angel and devil sat on her shoulders. she wanted to go up and sock the bitch, but she also knew that nothing good could come from that.

“you are so not listening to me. who are we looking at-“ nick, who finally notices his best friend’s aloofness, turns his head. once his eyes connect with the source of y/n’s silent rage, they widen.

“no way that bitch is here right now.” he scoffs, sliding the new drink in front of her.

“i really want to hit that bitch.”

nick hums in agreement for her. “i know you do. but let’s maybe not start a riot in this bar right now.”

and with that, y/n really tries to let it go. she really tries to sip her drink and keep it pushing. but as soon as she’s about to turn away, amber’s eyes meet hers and her face twists into the nastiest look she could muster.

and with that, y/n is whipping her phone out and sending a preliminary text to chris, because she knows how this is about to go.

“oh no, y/n—“ nick starts, but she cuts him off. “stay here.”

nick has only seen her this mad maybe twice, so the ferocity in her tone roots him to his spot. he watches closely and very drunk from afar though, making sure he can see her at all times just in case.

amber turns in her seat, watching y/n approach. the sneer on her face is lethal, and if y/n was anyone else, she might just be afraid.

too bad she’s not.

“amber.” the girl says, trying to keep her rage at bay. “horrible to see you as always.”

“yeah, same to you, y/n.” the way she says the name makes y/n’s blood boil.

it’s quiet for a second. the two girls amber is with are looking nervously from girl to girl with bated breath. everyone in a 5 foot radius can tell this is a hostile situation.

“i heard you had a lot to say to chris about me,” y/n smiles sarcastically. “anything you’d care to share?”

the other girl shrugs. “not really much to say about a slut that thinks it okay to steal another girls boyfriend.”

a laugh forces it’s way out of y/n’s chest. “boyfriend is a bit of an exaggeration don’t you think?” y/n taps her chin, pretending to think. “last i heard, you were a desperate sneaky link that got dumped by someone who gave you a boundary you didn’t like. how sad.”

amber’s mouth drops. “excuse me?”

y/n, against her better judgement, steps forward. “i also heard that i’m supposed be watching my back. for what exactly?” she raises an eyebrow. “i’m right here. what’s gonna happen, amber?”

the taunt makes the girl’s cheeks go red, but she stays silent. so y/n continues to talk her shit. “next time you think you’re big and bad enough to text my man talking shit about me or feel comfortable enough to talk crazy to him, i’ll make you regret it.”

“is that a threat?”

y/n shakes her head. “a promise, actually.”

amber kicks off the wall, ducking her head slightly to get in y/n’s face. “you think you’re cute, huh?” her eyes are gleaming. y/n can feel the anger rising, her vision starting to blur at the edges. she’s on thin ice, she thinks, blowing a breath through her lips. she clenches her fingers around the drink in her hand.

“think you’re some big prize just because chris stopped being a whore long enough to decide you’re more interesting than you’re worth? chris will get bored of you, eventually, just like he always does.” amber’s eyes are frenzied. she looks like she’s about to snap, so naturally, y/n goes for the kill.

while shaking her head, y/n sucks her teeth. “maybe that would’ve bothered me three weeks ago, but things are different now. just like chris told you, me and you are not the same.” y/n sends a deadly smirk her way. “i don’t have to lie about anything to get a boyfriend. i would never have to make up stories about a guy because i couldn’t accept the truth. i would never purposefully try to ruin someone’s happiness because i’m a pathetic, lonely bitch.”

y/n wouldn’t say she’s a fighter exactly. she’s known for her snark and her sass, but she wouldn’t explicitly say that she likes to fight. being so good with her words, she believes that only in extremities do situations need to escalate to being physical.

this is one of those times.

the second the words come out her mouth, amber is launching her drink into y/n’s face. as the liquid settles on her skin and in her hair, she lets out a strangled noise, taking a second to finish the drink in her own hand, vaguely registering her best friends “oh fuck no!”, before she’s swinging her fist so fast, amber has no time to defend herself.

across the room, nick is firing texts to chris at the speed of light, watching in proud admiration as y/n is hurling punches that he doesn’t doubt for a second feel like bricks. he’d been on the receiving end once or twice and that bitch can swing.

he knows his friend is fine, considering amber is only screaming, crying and throwing the weakest hits he’d ever seen. it’s only when he sees a security guard grab y/n a little too aggressively for his liking is he shoving his phone in his pocket and running up to the chaos in front of him.

“get the fuck off of her!”

while all this is happening, chris and matt have parked the car and are somewhat running to the entrance. chris can hear yelling and chairs scraping against the floor and nick’s incessant “fuck you, fuck you, fuck you” chant all the way at the front.

he shoves through the crowd, not listening to a security guard still asking for ID despite the madness.

matt and him exchange a look as they see both nick and y/n in the middle of the scuffle. they separate immediately and despite wanting to laugh a little bit at the sight of his girl absolutely beating the shit out of his old… whatever, he doesn’t.

he grabs y/n by the waist, yanking her back and throwing her over his shoulder, one hand at the bottom of her ass, shielding the hem of her dress from the room.

“what the fu- chris put me down!”

she’s kicking and hitting his back as he makes a beeline for the exit, but his hold only tightens. “no can do, ali.”

y/n only grumbles, not amused by his joke. once they’re all the way back at the car, chris releases her, caging her body between himself and the car.

“stupid fucking bitch. throwing her drink in my fucking face.” her fury is palpable. there’s a few small scratches on her neck, but other than that, she’s basically unscathed. not that he doubted her for a second.

y/n is still angrily rambling while chris runs his hands through her hair, smoothing down her dress as well. when he’s finished, she looks up at him, and he smirks. “got it all out of your system?”

she shakes her head. “i could use another round or two.”

he laughs, bright and full. “i’m sure you could. she definitely can’t though.”

before she can start cursing again, chris cups her face. “have i ever told you that you’re incredibly sexy when you’re mad?”

y/n calms slightly, finally smiling a little. she rolls her eyes shoving his chest. “you think i’m sexy no matter what.”

“guilty.”

he kisses her then, slow and sweet. she melts into him fully, grabbing onto his jacket for support. the moment is tender regardless of the circumstances around it. but then, in all her drunk distractedness, y/n slips her tongue into his mouth and there’s a tangible shift.

not too much can happen, much to chris’ disappointment though, because matt and nick can be heard about ten feet away.

“i don’t give a fuck, matt! i wasn’t just going to let that big bitch grab her like that!”

“i get it nick.” matt says, exasperatedly, “but you literally cannot be going around starting bar brawls.”

“oh well,” nick looks ahead then, noticing his brother and best friend. “y/n! we won that shit so bad.”

y/n laughs, nodding her head. she looks back at chris, who of course is already looking down at her with that special look in his eyes.

“yeah,” she says, secret smile on her lips. “i’m definitely feeling like a winner tonight.”

#chris sturniolo texts #christopher sturniolo #chris sturniolo #matt sturniolo #nicolas sturniolo #sturniolo triplets #nick sturniolo #sturniolo edit #matthew sturniolo #matt sturniolo texts #nick sturniolo texts #sturniolo fanfic #sturniolo imagine #sturniolo x reader #neighbor!chris

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maokomi · 1 year

Text

⠀「 “Dress slutty babe, I can fight,” but can they really? *ೃ༄ 」

ᥫ᭡ Reblogs are greatly appreciated !!

.ೃ࿔*:･「𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐬.」 modern au, gn reader, established relationship crack ?? This shit aint serious so don’t treat it like it is lmfao

.ೃ࿔*:･「𝐟𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠.」 Xiao, Kazuha, Zhongli, Kaeya, Kaveh, Cyno

Wrote this drunk, no editing, no looking back at my regrets last night. What happens in Vegas stays in Vegas.

⠀「 XIAO*ೃ༄ 」

YOU BET UR ASS THIS MAN CAN FIGHT

Tells u to dress slutty with his whole chest !!!

Wear whatever you want to feel good about yourself and to feel comfortable. That’s all that Xiao cares abt tbh.

If he sees anyone leering at you in your hot outfit though? His munchkin ass is on them in a heartbeat.

Doesn’t matter who. Doesn’t matter how tall they are. He’ll bark up at them like a chihuahua. Scale them like a fuckin rabid cat or smthn.

Xiao said he can fight and he will !!!!!

⠀「 KAZUHA*ೃ༄ 」

Compliments you in your sluttiest outfit !! Hell, mans helps you pick it out!!

CAN FIGHT Can !! Beat !! Ass !!

Except he chooses not to 😌 because he is a lover💞💕 not 🙅‍♂️🚫 a fighter ☮️🕊✌️😌

But he makes it very very very clear to anyone and everyone who so much glances in ur general direction that !! HELLO HE IS UR MAN

Holds ur hand. Keeps an arm around your middle. Plays with ur hair. The whole shebang baby

But if someone grows the gonads to actually approach you while Kazuha is so blatantly flirting with u right then and there ??

Kazuha doesn’t even have to get up.

He fucking ROASTS the motherfucker alive. All cool and suave. Keeps his voice level while he tells the newcomer all the reasons why their parents are disappointed in them.

Kazuha fucking cooks them bro I dont know what to tell u Rest In Peace to that dumbass I guess

⠀「 ZHONGLI*ೃ༄ 」

Bold of anyone to think they can steal u from a man who walks in with this much rizz 🤨

Zhongli wears a whole ass custom Valentino suit & shoes to go to a club no way in hell is anyone gonna try to chat u up baby doesn’t matter how slutty u dress

Esp when ?? Ur slutty outfit matches Zhongli’s fit ? Absolute power couple I rest my case

Sugar daddy Zhongli supremacy I said what I said

I restate my point: No one is gonna think they have a chance against Zhongli. They’re all scared they’ll get murked on their way home if they so much as try.

Kinda soft but they fr dont even have a chance bc Zhongli just has to compliment u and u light up like an actual Christmas tree, you get so goddamn happy that anyone even trying to fight him is already fighting a losing battle.

⠀「 KAEYA*ೃ༄ 」

Baby, bold of u to assume that Kaeya’s not gonna be dressed sluttier than u 🤨

Hate to break it to you buttercup but Kaeya’s not gonna be the one royal rumbling tonight— nu uh, that’s you.

Have you seen the titty window this man rocks?

Skip the accessories whenever you go out Kaeya, because you are going to beat some ass, and earrings and necklaces only get in the way 💕

It’s tiring having to keep everyone’s eyes off of ur boyfriend but it’s okay because whenever you go to the bar for a quick time out, Kaeya always has a kiss and a drink ready for u before u go back to fucking people up <3

⠀「 KAVEH*ೃ༄ 」

I love him but you’re on your own honey

Claims that he’ll kick ass— that you can wear whateverrr you want, that you look so hot, that you look amazing and that he’ll fight anyone who comes near u

Hypes you up and hollers and makes u feel like a million bucks because he’s a good, supportive bf

But in the midst of it all you forget he’s some broke ass architect who probably hasn’t taken a solid punch in his life

When someone approaches u he puffs up his chest and stands in front of u with his most intense bitch face, says smthn that he thinks tough guys says like, ‘you wanna fight? Let’s fight.’ Or some cheesy shit like that

The moment the other dude swings tho its over 💀 Kaveh yells and has to hide behind you

It’s okay tho because he’s cute <3 (even if he’s broke)

Hope you didn’t wear anything breakable baby bc youre the one who’s gotta fight for urself

⠀「 CYNO*ೃ༄ 」

Doesn’t even have to fight bro.

Doesn’t matter how slutty you dress— you could walk into a bar with just the bare minimum on and no one would look your way.

Not because you’re unattractive, because that is far from the truth.

No— it’s because of Cyno’s arm wrapped around your shoulder and the absolute death stare he gives anyone who looks your way with even a hint of lechery in their gaze.

Crazy shit, I tell you. Motherfucker’s eyes look like he’ll pounce on anyone who so much as wolf whistles your way. No one wants to get fucked up by a dude who looks like he’ll go blue eyes white dragon on their ass.

#love’s stories ♡.ೃ࿔*:·#xiao x reader #kaedehara kazuha x reader #kazuha x reader #zhongli x reader #kaeya alberich x reader #kaeya x reader #kaveh x reader #cyno x reader #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact fluff #genshin impact imagines #genshin impact #genshin impact xiao #kaedehara kazuha #genshin impact zhongli #kaeya alberich #genshin impact kaveh #genshin impact cyno

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erwinsvow · 2 months

Text

part two of this

you’re still wondering how you ended up like this—rafe’s arm around your shoulder, a cup of water in your hand because he’d decided for you that you’d had enough alcohol tonight, standing in a big circle with his friends. you knew bits and pieces about rafe, some comments your now ex-boyfriend would make in passing—always bad things—and the fact that he was a regular at these parties for more than one reason. but standing next to rafe, with him acting like you belong to him, was something you could have never expected.

his friends look at you a little curiously, but they’re still nice. rafe stares down anyone who he catches looking at your low hemline or exposed chest. he’s making his rounds to sell yayo, and you accompany him, still just tipsy enough to have lowered your inhibitions and not catch on to the mean way some of the girls look at you.

“wha’s yayo?” you question, looking up at rafe again, like you’ve been doing all night. he’s undeniably handsome, but it seems even more so when he’s being so nice to you like this.

“nothin’ you need to know about, kid,” is all he says in response, guiding your water cup to your mouth again and tipping it back a little so you drink. a little bit spills down the side of your mouth and he wipes it away with his thumb.

“can i try some?” he laughs, handing over another tiny bag to a boy with a handshake and pocketing the money, and then guides you away, so it’s just the two of you.

“not yet.” you let out a whine—it must be fun if everyone at the bonfire is chasing him around for some.

“why not?”

“‘cause cheap beer is too much for you. now stop askin’ and help me find this stupid boyfriend of yours.”

“ex-boyfriend,” you correct, immediately. rafe looks pleased when you say that, making you smile even wider, if not a little dopey.

“excuse me, that’s right. ex-boyfriend. where's he at?”

you don’t actually care about finding him anymore—you’re having a lot of fun with rafe like this. but you get into your head a little bit, thinking rafe is only doing this to make him jealous, and then he’ll leave to spend time with some other girl. you hold on a little tighter to his arm, looking up with another pout.

“maybe this way,” you say, guiding him in the exact opposite direction of where your ex was last. “maybe those people want the yayo. they seem friendly.” rafe laughs again, which makes you beam. he does sell to the partygoers you pointed out to him, they open the little baggie and start snorting right infront of him—and you. you watch intently, and when they ask rafe if he wants a bump, he refuses.

“not today. gotta stay sharp for my girl.”

you’re starting to think you don’t need any drugs, if something as simple as rafe calling you his girl makes you feel so deliriously happy. you’re buzzing from your own personal high until you hear a voice call your name, and you don’t turn until rafe does, the arm around your shoulder gravitating down to your waist, holding on tightly.

the beer and rafe and everything else in the air still has you pretty hazy—you don’t hear anything other than your ex asking you what the hell you’re doing, and rafe answering for you. it doesn’t take long for him to notice the little baggies of white powder on the table behind you two, the possessive way rafe keeps his hands on you, and the fact that rafe looks as angry as anyone’s ever seen him, before they break out in punches and curse words.

you’re drunk enough to want to help rafe, but one of his friends holds you back, tells you to leave it and that rafe will win anyways. you watch him throw punches at your ex but the second he takes a punch, you can’t watch anymore.

rafe does win, in the end. your ex gets dragged away by his friends, and you’re sure there’s red everywhere. when rafe finds you again, he spits out some blood and wipes his mouth. you stare at him afraid and unsure, thinking that you’re the last person he wants to see now, the one that got him into a fist-fight. you bite your cheek, playing with your hands and staring down at your shoes again, until rafe comes up and guides you to his truck. the parking lot is clearing out, and you sit in his passenger seat fiddling with the hem of your dress while he drives you back home.

you don’t speak until he parks infront of your house.

“i-i’m so sorry, rafe, really. i didn’t want that to happen. i’m really sorry.” everything feels more clear in his car, moonlight piercing through and shining on the two of you. it was stupid to do any of that—stupid to get rafe involved and stupider still to get him hurt.

“why’re you sorry? i threw the first punch.”

“you did?”

“you didn’t see?” he questions, and you want to hide your face in your hands.

“no, i-uh, i couldn’t watch, your friend took me away. uhm, kelce.” he laughs, to your surprise.

“don’t lose any sleep over it, kid. didn’t like the way he was talkin’ about you.”

“really?” you ask, and you hate how hopeful your voice sounds. you like that he cares, you hope he really does care.

“yeah.” you can’t hold it back any longer, leaning towards him and giving him a big kiss on his cheek.

“thank you rafe,” you say quietly, biting your lip, hoping you didn’t misunderstand him.

“yeah, kid, whatever. get inside.” he leans over you to open the passenger side door for you, before returning to his position and staring at you from his seat. just as you start to move, he grabs your wrist, making you turn to look. “y’not gonna like what happens if i ever see you with him again. got it?”

you look at him like a deer caught in headlights, eyes big and wide, lips parted. you nod.

“got it.”

“good night, kid.”

#lollll i love him #rafe cameron #rafe cameron x reader

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kooqitas · 1 month

Text

— secret kink ★ with: knj + jjk!

#pairings: friend!jjk X boyfriend!knj X reader

#synopsis: you discover your boyfriend's kink

#tags: pwp, sex, rough sex, threesome, cuckold, cockslut, spanking, spit, vaginal sex, degradation, humiliation, orgasm denial, orgasm play, creampie, overstimulation, dacryphilia, oral sex, multiple orgasm

#notes: ok, i need to be honest, this is the most dirty thing i've ever written, but it doesn't deviate much from what's been written here so far… whatever, i hope you like it guys :)

#wc: 3,1k

🌸 . . english isn’t my first language, so be patient :)

“when you gonna told me that you fucked with jungkook?” namjoon, your boyfriend, entered the room while you were still wrapped in a towel after getting out of the shower.

“excuse me?”

“hoseok told me, when we break up a few weeks ago, you and jungkook fucked”

“hoseok is a gossip boy” you mumbled.

“maybe, but when you gonna tell me?”

“when you gonna told me that you fucked with taehyung?” you asked him.

alright, you and namjoon had a fight last month, it's a bad fight, you broke up for some weeks, you stayed in the apartment but he lived at bts dorm.

but, in those weeks, maybe you two have some... diversion with your friends.

“taehyung and me was a mistake”

“you take jungkook's boyfriend and he took your girlfriend”

“so was it planned?”

“no” snorted. “just happened”

“was good? he ate you well?”

what the fuck was that question? wanting to know whether or not your girlfriend has sex while you were apart is understandable, but what the hell was he asking?

“not better than you”

“anyone fucks you better than me, doll”

you laugh, it's true. you two have a relationship a years ago, of course he knows exactly how and where touch you.

“did he treated you like the whore you are?”

“i don't understand what the point”

“i just wanna know if my girl was fucked good”

“yes, i am! and i know that taehyung too”

silence.

“how many times you cum?”

“really? namjoon, i don't want to fight, i fucked jungkook, you fucked taehyung, it's okay”

“who says that i want to fight?”

you can't understand what the point of this conversation.

“i just wanna know if my baby was treat like the whore he is, if jungkook doing a good job and cum of this pussy”

namjoon laughed, and his laughed sounded like sadism. whos wanna know how your girlfriend was fucked?

unless…

“three years with you, and you never told me that you have cuckold kink”

“im telling u now”

bingo!

the information was a little shocking, right, jungkook and you had always been very close and namjoon never showed a single bit of jealousy, however you always thought it was because of your friendship for years, and the fact that jungkook had a boyfriend.

“so, why don't you call him and ask how he eats me?”

namjoon sit on the sofa, but without any courage to call to your friend.

"what's happening?" you asked when notice the hesitate "are you afraid that your best friend know that you liked that had cum on your girlfriend? are u shammed? ok, i call"

you take the cell and call to jungkook.

“hi, hyung! are u okay?”

“hey, baby!” you said. “namjoon wanna know how good was fucked me that day”

“oh my god! he’s know? hyung, i’m so sorry, we are so drunk and-”

you laughed.

“i wouldn't apologize if i were you, he's all excited imagining you fucking me. and don't forget that he fucked with your boyfriend, if i were you i'd give as many details as possible…”

on the other end of the line Jungkook was wide-eyed, he always thought that if his friend found out about their night there would be a big fight, but no, there he was in connection with namjoon, who was horny knowing that his girlfriend gave your pussy to another.

jungkook even tried, but he couldn't hold back the smirk that tugged at his lips.

he was still fighting with taehyung, and didn't even intend to make up. of course, jungkook was angry with namjoon because he knew he was also to blame for all this.

so if he wanted to be humiliated, well, he would.

“your girlfriend is a dumb whore, she masturbated in my bathroom, when i opened the door, she was moaning with two fingers inside her, i couldn't control it, i needed to eat her”

namjoon imagines the scene, and his cock wake up

"she moaned so loud in my fingers, god, i wasn't need said too much, she just give her cunt for me at the same time"

you laughed naughty, remembering the scene.

you and jungkook spent a good few minutes talking about how taehyung and namjoon's sex had been, and naturally, with a drink, you were so fucking horny, both of you rubbing your own thigh temptingly to relieve the emotion.

you asked to take a shower, but when you turned on the shower the first thing you did was put your fingers in your wet pussy, you couldn't tell if it was missing namjoon or wanting jungkook, you didn't even think about anything, you just wanted to cum.

it didn't take five minutes for jungkook to enter the bathroom, seeing you with your eyes closed moving your fingers quickly.

he took off his clothes, and sneaked in, hugging you from behind and leaving a kiss on his neck. jungkook was quick to pull your hand and insert his fingers, then brushing his member against your ass, and the pleasant moan you gave only confirmed the consent he knew he had. you didn't hold back in saying that that night he owned you, and that you were desperate for him to open you up with his fat cock.

returning to the present moment, namjoon stroked his own dick while listening to his friend's statement.

“she was so hot, hyung. saying that I owned her, cumming on my fingers, saying that i could do whatever i wanted with her. fuck! i think now i understand why you guys have been together for so long, i would also love to eat that pussy every day.”

jungkook masked silence, namjoon was quiet and this worried jungkook.

“that’s okay, jungkook! he didn’t say anything because was busy touching himself”

so he’s keeped going.

“i took her to bed, hyung. she was so wet even after having cum, i stuck my tongue in her and she moaned even louder, she kept screaming my name for anyone who wanted to hear. my face got all wet, and she got irritated when i didn't let her cum” he laughed. “but i made her cum on my dick, she's a cockslut, she asked me to hit her, to choke her, and every time i cursed her, her pussy squeezed my cock. damn, hyung, now i'm so fucking horny!”

jungkook knew that what he would say next could destroy a friendship of years, it turns out that at the moment his head was clouded by lust and he even thought about friendship.

“hyung, leave me fuck your girlfriend again. so you can watch us and draw your own conclusions”

namjoon took his hand out of his shorts, and you tried to read your boyfriend's face, but you didn't understand anything. was Namjoon nervous? did Jungkook cross the line? was he just excited to hear but not see?

in fact, that was a good question, how far would namjoon's kink go?

whatever, all insecurity fell away when Namjoon moved away from the phone.

“you know my address, and your entry is free at the entrance”

namjoon looked at you and tapped her thigh twice, you immediately understood the message and sent it there, receiving a kiss on the neck and a caress on her breasts.

“'ll lend you to him one more time, but you know that's it, don't you? you are my little toy that i use whenever i want”

you nod, and namjoon opens your mouth spitting into it, you swallow, like the good whore you are.

“he's going to cum in you, but this pussy is mine, okay? and after all, maybe you're tired, but you're mine, and you give your pussy to your owner”

------------------------------------

after some minutes, the doorbell rang, and namjoon opened the door, of course, jungkook was there. namjoon kissed him, like a 'welcome' put his tongue on jungkook's mouth and grabbed his ass.

"you can do anything, since her want, of course" this is the only thing that namjoon said.

so, this is you now.

sitting on the bed, with your legs opened, just underwear, pinching your own nipple.

they both drooled, the visible stain on the lace panties made them both desperate to open your pussy even more.

but now it was jungkook's turn, so namjoon sat on the couch.

jungkook took off his clothes so quickly, and going to the bed, kissing you when you put the legs on his waist, trying feel something.

"are you always so desperate? in my house, now here, why?” hes bite your lips. “i can fuck this hole open now, you are so wet, fuck, look your leaky cunt, my cock going to feel so good in you… but, i think that your boyfriend want to see i’m playing with you first”

jungkook playing with your tits leans down to start sucking on your nipples, include painful bites every now and then making scream his name when his mark you with purple hickies.

so, jungkook take off your panties, putting on your mouth.

“shut the fuck up, dumb! i even started and you moaned like a pathetic slut.”

he groping your clit, your hole dripping and making a mess, you are so embarrassed, and namjoon watches everything.

and he's like.

so much.

he took advantage of the open legs to stick his face there, running his tongue slowly over your folds, giving a light bite to the clitoris that made you scream in pain and then pull jungkook's hair.

“if you touch me one more time, i will ruin you”

you took off yours hands grabbing the sheet when his eat your in a brutal way, you can feel your tongue your lips, your nose, even you chin, every part of jungkook's face on your pussy.

namjoon appreciated that, took off your underwear, releasing your dick, your massive purple dick with precum.

when jungkook bite your clit, you pulled his hair.

and you receive a slap.

“disgusting whore, you can't do what i'm say? i don't need that your hole, i can fuck others, you are not special! so do what i'm say or i’m gonna away!”

without warning, jungkook puts two fingers inside you, take your underwear of ou mouth just for listen your scream due to agressiveness that you are fucked. you tried close your legs, not because you don't wanna it, but because was too much, soo good, but jungkook did not let.

“if you cum now, you it will end with fun, please, don’t be a useless slut”

and he's continuous. you moaning so loud every time his fingers is in and out of you.

namjoon looking everything with a devocion.

“two fingers are enough to break your tiny cunt? god, can you imagine how will it be with my fat cock?”

so you cum… without permission.

and jungkook hit in your face, squeezing your neck.

“disgusting whore, i told you to not cum”

he pinch your clit.

and you scream.

and he do again, and again, and again.

jungkook grabbed your hair and got you out of bed, on your knees

“you can cum on my mouth?” you asked when he took de underwear.

“in your face, bitches like you deserves this”

you smiled, and jungkook's response was a spit in your face.

“you know, two slaps in my thigh and i stop” you agreed.

he waste no time fucking and shooting their hot precum down your throat.

due to the rudeness, tears started to flow from your eyes, but that would never be a bad thing, you were just making the most of jungkook.

namjoon moaned so loud when u gasp on jungkook dick, and that's when you realized that namjoon was masturbating.

“this is the best you can do? poor namjoon, pathetic mouth”

jungkook pushes your head so that your nose touches his pelvis, and holds you there, until you cough.

“cum on her face, jungkook, dirty this slut!”

jungkook moaned before your cock spit sperm on your face, the cum spills out around the cock in your face, some leaking down onto your tits.

it was divine.

“doggy style, whore, i want to fuck you like my pathetic puppy”

jungkook slapped you, and then another, and another, and another.

your ass burned and so did jungkook's hand, but he would continue hitting until he got tired, after all, at that moment you were his, and he had permission to use you as desired.

your pussy dripped onto the bed. jungkook laughed, and then positioned himself behind you, rubbing his cock against your swollen clit, whereupon he pushed you further onto the bed, so that his chest was touching the mattress and your ass was in the air.

once fully sheathed, the jungkooks cock widens your pussy open, pulls all the way out and slams all the way back in.

jungkook thrust so hard that the shock of his hips hurt, but you like it, namjoon and jungkook too.

namjoon increased the speed of his masturbation, still being careful not to cum, he didn't want to cum like that.

you really want the cock of your boyfriend in you too now, in your mouth, asshole, whatever, you just need both of them fuck you, and you made a mental note for this.

“that shitty pussy of yours can handle anything, right? i bet i can fit my balls inside you too”

jungkook starts brutally rubbing your engorged clit, you throw your head back, drool slipping past in the sheet.

“fleet wide pussy, you can take the cock of your boyfriend here too, maybe we can gonna try this some day”

it was pathetic the way you moaned “yes, please”

he laughed, gripped your hips so hard you’re sure there’ll be bruises, your titties flop brushing on the sheet with each thrust. soo good, so messy.

“who owns you?” jungkook asked.

“n-namjoon!”

namjoon watched everything mesmerized, he had already read reports about cuckolding, he knew it was fun to watch, he just didn't expect it to be so much. he didn't even want to go in there, he just wanted to watch his girlfriend being destroyed by his best friend.

that was enough.

“you're a whore who has an owner but loves cumming on someone else's dick. disgusting bitch.” he continued thrusting without any shame. “tell me what you are”

“a w-whore”

“exactly, a whore that acepts everything since you hole is full. is your owner enjoying watching this? this disgusting show you're putting on?”

“h-hes lik-kes”

“we’ll see”

jungkook pulled himself out of you and by your hair for what must have been the hundredth time that night, you didn't quite understand what he wanted but you just followed him.

you were dragged to the armchair where his boyfriend was, and in a single movement jungkook made his body fall onto namjoon's.

and there you were: holding on to your boyfriend's shoulder while prancing towards another.

he entered again, mercilessly punching his dick into the slut who was his at that moment.

you held Namjoon's shoulder, he felt like his dick could explode because of how horny he was.

jungkook pulled your hair hard again, forcing you to face namjoon.

“say to your boyfriend how much you like this”

jungkook still brutally rubbing your engorged clit, making you lose the conscience with the pleasure.

“namjonnie… s-so go-good”

you cried, lost in your own excitement, you didn't even care how deplorable you looked at the moment.

“good, sweetheart?” namjoon said, taking his hand off his dick and just enjoying his girfriend's body folded over his while jungkook fucked her. “what are you, my dear?”

“a wh-whore, desperate for coc- jungkook i’m gon-gonna cu-”

“cum, whore, but i won’t stop fuck this hole still i’m cum in you’’

“i'll like it more when i see your cum dripping from her pussy. and i'm sure she does too, right, baby? says what you want” your boyfriend said.

“jungkooks cum”

“where do you want? be more specific, princess” namjoon spoke docilely, but the lust in his speech was clear.

“in m-my pus-sy, for you will ea-eat l-ater!

“cum, doll, i want to see you cum for us”

"doll" jungkook laughed. “cum, whore, and enjoy me filling you with cum”

you scream, cumming on jungkook’s cock.

your legs are shaking and if it weren't for jungkook's strength you wouldn't even be able to stand.

but luckily, jungkook was strong, and not only did he hold you back, but he continued fucking you roughly.

“i'm going to fill this pussy so much that it's going to overflow on your boyfriend's cock”

“j-jungkook” you moaned, feeling your cunt fluttering on his dick.

“i'm going to gaping this pussy, when your boyfriend goes to fuck her, it will be completely wide by me”

you couldn't stand anymore, and that's when namjoon got up to help hold you down, while jungkook continued fucking you like crazy.

“behave” your boyfriend told you.

“now watch me fill this hole open” jungkook said before cum.

still with his leg wobbly, jungkook left you, sitting on the couch.

namjoon didn't say anything, he just lifted you on his lap and fitted your pussy onto his dick. tears ran down your face and your mouth didn't even close, moans and more moans were made as you clung to your boyfriend's neck as you were pushed against his thick cock.

“are you what?”

you knew the weight of this question, if you answered something profane, namjoon would continue fucking you without any mercy, but if you said you was just his princess he would go slowly. after all, that was your dynamic, pleasure is good, but safety comes first.

“your whore!”

namjoon didn't respond, he just threw you on the bed, bending your legs leaving you in an almost fetal position.

eh started thrusting again and at that point jungkook's cum squirted onto his member, and damn, that was so exciting.

the large body collided against you and moaned more and more and was driving them both crazy.

you came on your boyfriend’s cock, shaking in a way namjoon had never seen before.

you had reached the peak, it was clear.

so namjoon removed himself from inside you as quickly as possible, respecting your limit, and called his friend.

"come on, jungkook, cum in her one more time"

namjoon arranged his legs, leaving them wide open.

and started masturbating, soon Jungkook joined him.

they masturbated their members quickly, until jets of cum came out and fell towards your pussy, which was already full of cum.

even though you were tired, you took two fingers there, smearing them and then putting them in your mouth.

you were exhausted.

and you have plans for the next time…

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ladykailitha · 4 months

Text

Staking My Claim Part 1

Hello! Because of my flu, I've been working on low stakes stuff to help with my foggy head. I promise this week to be back on to the WIPs I have going to be build up my backlog again.

This started off as a silly "let the boys be goofy" and turned into a "found family with ONE goofy moment in it". Sorry about that. I blame the cough medicine honestly.

***

Eddie and his friends were enjoying a rare night where they didn’t have to play at Cora’s Den in Indy when it happened.

Now, Cora’s Den wasn’t gay bar per se, but as it was one of the most inclusive places in Indy, the normies considered it one.

So when he came back from going to the bathroom he leaned into the center of their table so he could whisper. “Tell me that’s not Steve Harrington at the bar in a crop top and cutoffs.”

All three of his friends turned to the bar as one.

Gareth smacked his lips. “As much as I would love to, man, no can do.”

“And is he really flirting with that dude?” Eddie asked with a wince.

Jeff raised an eyebrow. “I’m seriously doubting that. Looks like Stevie could use a rescue.”

Eddie turned and looked over. Sure enough the guy that had been flirting with Steve had been replaced by a new guy. And one that didn’t look like he was getting the hint to fuck off.

“Go on,” Brian said. “You know you want to. He’s clearly got a thing for the guys and you might even get laid for the first time in months.”

Eddie nodded curtly and slapped the table. “Right.”

Steve was having a good time until this guy came along. He just wouldn’t take no for answer. He wasn’t looking to go home with anyone. His parents had just blown out of town again and Steve was looking for a way to blow off some steam. Relax after the last week of sheer exhaustion of dealing with them and their judgments. He usually went with Robin so that people would leave them alone. Only she had the late shift tonight and the early shift in the morning.

He was going to wait until the weekend when they could both go and have fun, but Robin insisted that he go, otherwise he’d be moping around Family Video all week. So he came out tonight, not really out to get drunk, or laid, just to have a good time.

This was not that.

Suddenly an unopened bottle of his favorite beer was being pressed into his hand as a warm arm wrapped around his waist.

“There you are, baby,” a soft voice cooed. “Sorry I’m late, work was a nightmare.”

Steve let himself relax into the man’s side. “I’m just glad you made it, Eds.”

Eddie grinned at him. “I swear old man Thacher is getting worse in his old age.”

Steve laughed. “I know, right? I went in for an oil change and he berated me for twenty minutes on why couldn’t I just do it myself.”

Eddie frowned. “Don’t you have a BMW that requires a special oil?”

Steve pursed his lips and nodded. “Yup!”

Eddie turned to look at the guy who was standing there with his mouth open. “Are you still here?”

The guy bristled. “I don’t know what you think you’re doing, but I was here first.”

“He’s my boyfriend,” Steve said, straightening up, but still remained plastered to Eddie’s side. “Eddie Munson. Lead singer and guitarist for Corroded Coffin. You know, the band that plays here every weekend?”

“Yup,” Eddie lied easily. “So where’s Birdie tonight? Working the late shift?”

“Ha!” the man snapped. “That’s not his friend’s name. His friend’s name is Robin! I knew you were a fake.”

Eddie blinked at him as if the man had grown three heads. “Robin Buckley. Robin is a bird. Bird plus Buckley, ergo Birdie. I have nicknames like that for all my friends. And any friend of Stevie’s is a friend of mine.”

Steve rubbed his nose along Eddie’s jaw affectionately. “And how did you know what her name was?” he asked, not even looking at the guy. “I don’t think I recall seeing you around before.”

The man’s face paled and he turned on his heel, storming off in a huff.

“Thanks for that,” he murmured into Eddie’s ear. “I’m usually pretty good at getting assholes to lay off, but he wouldn’t take no for answer.”

“Your inner mean girl couldn’t make him go away?” Eddie whistled. “That is persistent.”

Steve giggled. Then he blushed and looked down. That was when he remembered the drink in his hand. “So what’s with the unopened beer?”

“I didn’t want you to think I was another creep by bringing you an open bottle.”

Steve looked up at him and blinked a couple of times. “Wow, you really are my knight in leather armor tonight.”

Eddie took the bottle and popped it open with his bulky ring on his middle finger. “There you go.”

“That was so hot,” Steve said stupidly.

Eddie threw back his head and laughed. “Duly noted.”

Steve was invited back to their table and had an absolute blast.

He was coming back from the bar with a couple of drinks in his hands when someone bumped into him, almost making him spill the drinks.

“Hey, watch it!” he hissed.

Immediately Eddie was at his side in an instant.

“You okay?” he asked taking a couple of the drinks from him.

“Yeah,” Steve groused. “Just some asshole not watching where he was going. I didn’t even get a drop on my shoes.”

Eddie snickered. “Yeah, okay. You and your jock reflexes.”

Steve leaned over and whispered, “I’m also very flexible in bed.”

“As in top or bottom or are we talking positions?” Eddie asked, running his tongue over his bottom lip slowly.

“Both.”

Eddie threw back his head and laughed. “No need to go so hard, baby. I was already wanting to take you home with me tonight.”

“What about your friends?” Steve asked grinning back. “It sounded like you all share the apartment.”

“We have a signal for if we bring anyone back,” Eddie assured him. “Also we know to keep it down because the apartment walls are thin and not just inside the apartment.”

Steve’s mouth formed an O. “I got you.”

He knew there were pros and cons to living in an apartment. Having your neighbors that close were definitely a con.

“You still living at home?” Eddie asked as they made their way through the crowd.

Steve nodded. “Yeah. It’s not like my parents are ever there. Though it would just be my luck that they’d come home while I’m out the queerest bar in Indy.”

“Not a fan of queers?” he asked once they reached the table.

“They’re fans of Reagan,” Steve said with a grimace. “I’m pretty sure that automatically puts them on the opposing team.”

The entire table recoiled in sympathy.

“Fuck, that’s harsh!” Jeff said. “Thankfully my parents aren’t Reagan supporters, though they have raised many an eyebrow at Eddie here.”

Eddie face turned into a feral grin.

Brian shrugged. “My parents don’t care as long Eddie doesn’t shove it down their throats.”

Steve rolled his eyes. That old nugget. Walking down the street holding hands with someone of the same gender was shoving it down their throats as far as they were concerned.

Gareth looked at his friends wide eyed. “Um...sucks to be you guys I guess, but my parents adore Eddie, don’t mind him or I being gay and threatened to sue the school over the devil worshiping allegations about our D&D club. So...”

“Three cheers for the Hughes family!” Eddie said.

They all cheered and clanked their glasses together. They downed their drinks and roared with unrestrained joy.

Steve could feel a rush of blood around his ears. The room faded in and out and it sounded like Eddie and his friends were under water. He staggered off his stool and nearly stumbled to the floor.

Then the world went black.

***

Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6

Also I'm not sure if this post canon or no monster AU. I can't decide, but it's ambiguous either way.

Permanent Tag List: @spectrum-spectre @estrellami-1 @zerokrox-blog @artiststarme @swimmingbirdrunningrock @gregre369 @pyrohonk @a-little-unsteddie @chaosgremlinmunson @chaoticlovingdreamer @maya-custodios-dionach @goodolefashionedloverboi @messrs-weasley @val-from-lawrence @i-must-potato @danili666 @carlyv @rozzieroos @wonderland-girl143-blog @justforthedead89 @emly03 @bookworm0690 @itsall-taken @vecnuthy @bookbinderbitch @redfreckledwolf @littlewildflowerkitten @yikes-a-bee @awkwardgravity1 @scheodingers-muppet @mira-jadeamethyst @cinnamon-mushroomabomination @genderless-spoon @anne-bennett-cosplayer @irregular-child

#my writing #stranger things #steddie #ladykailtiha writes #tw drugging #corroded coffin

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uglyducklingofthe2000s · 4 months

Note

after your ‘my gf is a menace’ i was thinking maybe lando and a diplomat(?) reader you know maybe someone who is always acting perfectly

Took My Soul & Wiped It Clean - LN

Summary: Lando dates an angel on earth and he genuinely doesn't know how he can date someone who is so perfect. But he just hopes he never does something that risks losing her.

I'm kind of making this a bit of a "she fixed me" fic too. If that's alright? I hope so. Also sorry it took so long to write this. I know I don't promise time frames but I do prefer to not leave them too long.

Y/n is quite the opposite to Lando.

She talks like she's trained for socialising in the most polite ways, never sassy or sarcastic (unless drunk and only directed to Lando which has given Lando some of his funniest memories of her), she treats fans kindly, she takes care of him and makes sure that no matter his mood he knows she's there for him to lean on when he needs her. He balances her out, not that she's boring but he is certainly the "fun" one between the two of them.

A lot of people within the media like to use the words "classy" and "mature". Their favourite choice "a good influence on Lando". But the truth is that Lando agrees with all of them.

Lando told her at the end of their first date that the truly believed that she's calm she could bring a tropical storm to an end or stop an explosive volcanic eruption just from being present there. Obvious both of those things are impossible, but it really is like that to be around her.

"He's not in a good mood." Zak states as y/n arrives at the McLaren unit, having gone out for lunch with some of the other WAGs.

"Why? What happened?-sorry one second actually." Y/n frowns then pausing as she looks at the other women and smiling. "Thanks for lunch, we should definitely do it again. It was actually more fun than I expected."

They all exchange quick hugs agreeing that they will have to make it a regular thing. After all during the lunch they agreed it's nicer just getting together to have some time as girls, the idea of a girls night one weekend or even away from the races was thrown into the loop and they all got a little excited about it.

"What happened? It was only FP2." Y/n states as she finally leaves the other women who also part in their different directions.

"The car didn't feel right, he's just not happy." Zak explains as she nods walking with him.

Zak and y/n have sort of become quite a duo when it comes to handling Lando. Y/n obviously hasn't know Lando nearly as long as Zak, but he thinks that she is the only person who can really get Lando to listen to reason when he's getting in his own head like this. In everyone's opinion, y/n is absolutely the best person Lando could ever find himself with.

"Where is he?"

"Being critical of himself in the debrief room...on his own." Zak sighs since obviously the debrief never lasts this long.

"Thank you. I'll get him back to the hotel and make him see sense." Y/n smiles since she was only coming back to the paddock to essentially meet Lando and go back to the hotel with him since the F1 day is long since finished for most of the paddock this weekend.

Y/n sighs moving upstairs to the debrief room, finding her boyfriend is indeed alone sitting in there. Though Jon is sitting outside, clearly waiting for her boyfriend.

"I think I got it from here." Y/n sighs while checking her watch for the time. "Go to the hotel. I'll take care of him."

"Are you sure? He's been ignoring anyone who goes in there."

"I'm sure I'll manage." Y/n smiles softly then nodding in gesture for him to get himself out of there to rest for Saturday where Lando will likely still not be in a good mood.

"Take care, y/n." Jon instructs really meaning to not become a victim of Lando's sour mood.

Y/n waits till Jon is out of sight, really wanting to make sure he is indeed leaving before she pulls the door open. He gaze doesn't even flicker as he looks at the data and replays what must've been part of a lap he's unhappy with.

She sighs moving to the chair next to him and gently poking his bicep which finally gains her a glance but his eyes stubbornly return to the screen.

"Lando." Y/n states in a stern but soft tone, making it clear she won't go ignored but isn't going to argue.

He sighs as she reaches and pulls the headphones off and he turns to look at her.

"It's a practice not a race. Stop being so hard on yourself." Y/n frowns while Lando looks at her for a moment, his hard expression finally softening till he leans his head back pinching his fingers into his eyes and the bridge of his knows. "You have to stop being so hard on yourself, it's not fair."

"I'm sick of feeling like I'm letting people down." Lando states making her almost want to laugh.

The whole team, while placing faith in Oscar as a promising future, still hold a lot of their hopes to rest on Lando. He's one of the golden boys of F1. The others being Max and Charles. A trio of young drivers who came into their teams and have won the hearts of every fan who supports those teams.

"You know what I think?" Y/n asks rhetorically as she stands up and knowing her next move, Lando pushes his chair back perfectly timed as she sits on his lap and blocks the screen. "I think you know you are too hard on yourself but because you feel that's not enough if you're not living up to the expectations you have for yourself. Sometimes these things aren't in your control. You know that."

"I think you're too easy on me."

"I'd be a bad girlfriend if I wasn't too easy on you." Y/n shrugs before she sighs softly as she reaches up shifting one of his curls to what she clearly thinks is the correct place. "Do you think you're ready to come back to the hotel with me?"

"Ok, yeah. Let's go." Lando nods with a heavy breath earning a bright smile as she stands up. "How was lunch with the girls?"

"Oh my goodness, it was so good. We think we're going to make it something we do quite regularly. And we're going to try and plan a girls night. You know a lot of men work around here, and it's nice to have some girl time with other woman that understand how difficult you drivers can be." Y/n states, making he last part quite a playful dig at the brunette.

They gather all the stuff he needs and head out with y/n talking and leading the way to the car park.

Despite everyone being of the belief that Lando is an extrovert, and even he thought for a moment that he was an extrovert. But when he met y/n and realised how she could catch the attention of everyone in a room without them knowing her name. Not because of how beautiful she is (though he believes that certainly helps), but because she makes a point to introduce herself to anyone who she steps up to with an aura of confidence and kindness around her that people are not only drawn to but admire hugely.

She's good with shy people, good with kids, good with older people, she's good with everyone. Lando almost envies how she can't say a word wrong. Which he only knows because his own fans have tried to say that she's "too perfect" and there must be something she's hiding from them and from Lando because someone so perfect just can't possibly exist.

"Do you want me to drive?" Y/n asks despite maybe her one character flaw being that she is unapologetically a passenger princess and while she can drive, it's not something she enjoys all that much unless she's on her own.

"No. I would hate to make the princess drive."

"You understand me." Y/n pouts before he pulls her against himself, kissing her as he holds her waist and almost grinds himself against her. "Oh right, ok. Well save that for when we're in the hotel room."

"Sounds good for me."

The next day, y/n actively makes an effort to somewhat uphold Lando's improved mood. He's still not all that impressed with himself.

Y/n ends up being almost an aid in his interacting with fans, her handing him things, all while keeping a tightly hold of his hand. Though Lando realised fairly quickly that she's moving differently to usual and after a quick but quiet question as to whether she was ok after they finally got out the crowd.

He discovered she's a little sore from their activities upon returning to the hotel. Safe to say Lando may have used all his energy to give them both a nice end to the day, however they were certainly enjoying some rough sex and it's certainly showing today.

"No. I need to borrow some joggers. I can't wear this." Y/n sighs as she gets into his drivers room and begins digging through his wardrobe that's in there.

She's wearing jeans shorts and they're clearly just too much to wear when she's not exactly comfortable.

"You can stop smirking too. I can actually feel your smugness." Y/n states not actually sounding angry in the slightest as she finds some joggers. "Perfect."

Lando does move up behind her, his front pressing to her front as he reaches around and undoes the button and fly for her while kissing her kiss a little sloppily. So he likes to tease her, sort of test how far her maintaining composure can go. He's learned usually quite far. She won't just cave because he's touched her.

"I know what you're doing." Y/n smiles while Lando looks at her innocently.

"I don't know what you're talking about." Lando states as she turns to look at him and he takes the joggers holding them out for her. "If fp3 goes badly, I'm giving up and going to take residence between your legs."

"It's a good thing that it's not going to go badly. Or I'd be even more uncomfortable trying to get around." Y/n smiles keeping an innocent mind.

"You think you'd be going anywhere? I'd have you bed bound." Lando smirks working to taint that ability to deflect away from his dirtier-minded comments.

"I look forward to the winter break then. But for now, your mind needs to focus on what you're doing here." Y/n smiles gently cupping his face and returning the innocent atmosphere. "I love you."

"I love you too...so much." Lando sighs softly before kissing her a couple times, his hands on her waist rubbing his thumbs on her hips. This time not trying to make any seductive move. "Are you more comfortable now?"

"Yes." Y/n confirms then tilting her head. "Are you ready to absolutely destroy the rest of the field and remember that you're Lando Norris?"

Y/n could actually use the same tone and tell Lando he's a bag of a shit and he'd still feel like she did something to lift his spirits.

"Let's go." Y/n smiles laughing as he looks at her for a moment then grinning as he picks her up throwing her over his shoulder and laughing as he begins to run out of the driver's room into the paddock.

There is some comments online noticing the change of y/n's outfit. Most assuming they had sex in the paddock and she had to change because of that. But as she does with everything, she handled that in the most graceful way. Which was no surprise to Lando, who knows someone sent him an angel when they brought her into his life.

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sunboki · 4 months

Text

⎯ CHRISTMAS BLUES a Hwang Hyunjin fiction

🎄 : Hwang Hyunjin x implied! fem. reader

TROPE. enemies to lovers, exes to lovers, reader is a writer, one bed au, forced proximity au, hyunjin is an artist(not mentioned a ton), coincidences

WORD COUNT. 7.3k words ☆ 40 minute read

WARNINGS. cursing, angst galore, mention of sex (non desc.), breakup, hurt feelings, making up, mentions of getting drunk

AUG'S NOTES. this is a stupidly lovestruck hallmark christmas mindset talking, whatever you read below is definitely not me… definitely. anyway, happy holidays to everyone that celebrates! this has been sitting in my drafts for months now, initially planned to be a smau, then a fic!! hope this fic exceeds your expectations, feel free to leave a reblog or comment of your thoughts!

PLAYLIST.

SYNOPSIS. You thought getting a call from Hyunjin was the last thing you needed during the holidays, but when he reminds you of your non-refundable tickets to Paris you had booked seven months prior to your earth-shattering breakup, you realize that his call was the least of your problems.

or alternatively :

Just a week over Christmas with your ex in Paris, what could go wrong?

Every circumstance has a question that goes along with it.

How did I get so lucky? Why did you leave?

As for yours, it’s fairly simple.

Where did we go wrong?

December 18th – Seoul, South Korea.

Holding onto what could’ve been is stupid, you agreed upon that mindset a long time ago. However, the past, Him being the past, lingered around you like the scent of citrus still clinging beneath your fingernails even after washing your hands. Everywhere. He was everywhere. And no matter how hard you tried to erase the memories of what was, they served their memory purpose and disfigured your mind all the same.

And so, you replaced it.

Replaced the hurt, the searing burn, with someone else. Who turned into someone else, and someone else after that till the only thing sufficing any weekly relationship was a no-strings attached notion.

Until you met Seungmin.

He was your vice, the person dragging you out of your self-made hole of false sanctuary and safety. He laid all his flaws on the table, showed himself to you. Seungmin was gentle and kind, he was patient— more patient than anyone else in this world— and loving. Oh so loving.

But behind your undying affection for your boyfriend, he saw something you didn’t. Perhaps in your eyes, perhaps in your soul, bared to him on an onslaught of occasions.

Longing.

He saw longing in your treasured hues, longing for someone that wasn’t him.

Because some scars take longer to fade away, but yours hadn’t even begun to heal. Masked with his many layers of band-aids only to never staunch the cut, the one Hwang Hyunjin left on you.

“Seungmin I’m so sorry—“

“You love him, I know,” He nods his head, a sad, soft smile holding place on his lips.

Tonight was the night he officially talked about it. The unforgivable thought continuing to incessantly plague his mind.

Although, he didn’t regard you sourly for it. That connection you had with Hyunjin was something no other person could return nor deliver, and he had to accept that if he really loved you.

If Seungmin really loved you, he wanted the best for you, even if that meant the best were when you weren’t with him.

You were shocked when he brought up the matter, asked if you really missed him, asked if you still loved him. Yes, you had of course discussed your previous relationship, but never to this extent, never so blatantly.

Though the absolute kindness in both his tone and the way he looked at you, seated at the dinner table, kept you from lying.

It’s not fair. Not fair for Seungmin, your boyfriend, to have to take responsibility for your tormented feelings. But here he is, assuring you nevertheless.

Because he’s known. He knew from the start you weren’t over Hyunjin. Knew that, despite so much ache and anguish he caused, your heart can’t help but beat at his pace, fruitlessly connected.

And he knew in the end things would fall apart just like this, and his spot as a placeholder would fall apart along with it.

That didn’t mean it didn’t hurt though.

“He hurt you, but you love Hwang Hyunjin, I know.” He whispers, fingers tightly twined beneath the table. There’s a sort of hiccuping sound bubbling up from your throat. You stave it down.

“I’m sorry.”

He smiles, smiles when you don’t deny it, reaching forward for your trembling hands to take in his own.

“I want you to be happy, Y/N. I’m not the one you’ll be happy with though.”

A soft squeeze before he rises and curves to where you sit, free-flowing tears threatening to cascade past glossy eyes.

Without hesitation you wrap your arms around him in a hug, chest wracking with unfiltered sobs. Guilty. Guilt is devouring your soul. You don’t deserve Seungmin, nor does he deserve to be hurt so cruelly by someone he loves. But here you are, ruining him.

He’d never admit it, but the pain in his eyes—the ones you’ve stared at countless times—will always remain evident. No amount of smiling or laughing can hide that.

Pulling back while your arms stayed hooked upon his shoulders, you savor the kiss he places on your lips, the ones he delicately pressed to each of your wrists.

Sad. It’s a sad kiss. A kiss that causes your entire body to wilt against him, crashing deeper and deeper into his warmth, his comfort. He’s not false, he’s real. A real, unadulterated love you’re undeserving of.

Guilty.

“If you’re happy,” He breathes, leaning in to land gentle pecks all over your face, forehead connecting with your own. “I’ll be okay.”

December 20th – Seoul, South Korea.

Your room is still exactly as it has been. Pillows faced the same way, sheets still tousled and hanging halfway off the bed. Hell, he hasn’t even touched the blinds — staying open throughout countless nights, your perfume lingering.

Like he was afraid his touch would break apart what he had left of you.

He hopes, swallowing down the remainder of wine in his glass, you’ll be able to look back and laugh at what used to be, find the matter childish and ridiculous.

What you used to be.

Lovers.

Not kids anymore, you taught him once before. You also taught him how deep a love could be. There’d always be a space for you here, just as you left it. Although, he doubts you’d come back. In fact, you’ve probably moved on with your life. Found someone else to fill the space he did.

But maybe, if he keeps the room as it was for long enough, your room; if Hyunjin keeps those tiny paper notes you wrote for him long enough, you would come back.

What a lie.

Wishful thinking takes you far then drops you into festering despair over and over, he’s learned this the hard way.

Starting with a text.

He blinked once, then twice, then three times—picking apart his brain in order to recollect anything, any details whatsoever that could decipher this random message on a Monday morning.

Paris.

Paris?

Paris.

It hits him, evidently.

Immediately clutching his head and simultaneously slapping an aghast hand over his mouth, a sensation recognizable as utmost horror obliterates his soul into pieces, quite literally rocking his world.

Months ago, he remembered.

You’d been stupid, you’d been drunk, and impulsively booked the tickets, laughing off the “no refunds” reminder as if nothing would’ve ever happened.

It did though. And now he’s dealing with the karma in return for that idiotic decision. Soon enough you both will.

Non refundable tickets to Paris, two days from now, together.

What were the chances?

Blindly tapping his password into his phone, he (just as blindly) jams his finger to the first caller he sees, who turns out to be Minho, seeming like both a blessing and a curse in unison.

Never before had Hyunjin so clearly lost his mind and control of his words, but there’s always a first time for everything, right?

“Minho, what the hell am I supposed to do? She hates me and the flight is booked two days from now. This is just.. Fuck!” Hyunjin pours, slamming his hands against the steering wheel, burying his head into the leather as if that would magically make his endless desperation disappear.

He didn’t usually curse, so when he did, whatever had happened was serious. He carried his words elegantly, proficiently.

He'd be the last picked candidate for elegance right about now.

“If I were Chan I would’ve said you should still try talking to her about it, but in my opinion that wouldn’t change a thing. So suck it up Hwang, it can’t be that bad.”

Ah. Remind me why I ever decided to call you hoping for advice.

‘Hwang’ was the name his friend had reserved for him, coming from a long line of tissues in the mouth and other ways Minho would pick fun at the blonde. But he was at least trying to help, somewhat.

How he got himself into this situation is honestly laughable, situation being your nasty breakup and a plane to Paris.

Great. Paris is great, right? Wrong.

Because this stupid, stupid trip to Paris isn’t one he’s going on alone to enjoy the sights and delicacies there, it’s one with you, the girl who ripped his heart in half two months ago. The trip you’d planned while you were still head-over-heels, not hating his guts.

Oh, and your tickets were nonrefundable. Couldn’t forget about that part.

“.. What am I gonna do?”

“Suck it up, duh.”

“And please enlighten me on how the hell I'm supposed to ‘suck it up’ in a plane seat right next to her for thirteen hours and spend every day glued to the hip, your honor.”

The mental picture of Minho’s fraud-innocent face through the line grated his nerves like nothing else. Brows lifted, mouth slightly open. He wanted to punch that imaginary face so badly right now.

"Then follow Chan’s tutorial on making it up to your now-ex. You asked me for my opinion, and you got it. Look, all I’m saying is this is a good chance to get some level ground between you two, even if you still fly back hating each other—"

“I don’t hate her,” Hyunjin quickly quips.

Honestly, truthfully, he doesn’t hate you, he can’t hate you and he doubts he ever will. You were the one responsible for years upon years of the best moments of his life, how could he hate you for that?

Although, by the way you looked at him that night, he doubts your response would be the same.

Minho sighs.

"Even better, you could fly back with her hating you slightly less."

For once the snarky man he was spilling his problems to had provided decent reason, it was terrifying.

From a spectators point of view, his utter fit had to be quite a sight. For the record, witnessing thee calm and collected Hwang Hyunjin go insane in his car wasn’t a sight you’d see on a regular day.

But today wasn’t a regular day. Instead, it was the day he found himself trapped in a loophole of love and war with his ex.

What were the chances?

There’s no book that could wholly describe Hyunjin.

Even as a writer yourself, not even Shakespeare could depict him to the full extent. He’s flawless but so flawed, kind and yet malicious in terms of his brilliantly unfair beauty.

Every day you run into Hwang Hyunjin. The first few times, you called it coincidence, told yourself his meeting happened to be at the same time, maybe he was headed to a neighboring coffee shop.

Well, before those few days turned into every day on your commute.

And when a breakup is as nasty as yours was, it’s not too refreshing constantly seeing your ex on the daily afterward.

Today, Hwang Hyunjin is wearing a tan trench coat that reaches down to his knees. He’s wearing the same tennis shoes as always (except his usual camera is absent from the picture), and his hair is pulled up, soft, sandy strands framing either side of his face. He stands on the other side of the crosswalk, occupied with his phone while you internally ridicule him.

Staring daggers into his frame, the frigidly cold beverage in hand doesn’t aid in warming up chilling temperatures burning your fingertips, signs of winter’s impending approach.

He looks up.

You avert your gaze to your shoes. You can feel his eyes on you; feel them traveling over your body, then to your face, boring into your skull. He’s waiting, watching.

And somehow, you know you’ll eventually have to make eye contact. Because on your normal route, your turn left on Harrison street, then right on Fords. He’s there. Unbelievably, wildly, he’s there.

It’s the one factor in your (almost) perfect life without him that makes things hell.

Back then, you were like clockwork. Not a minute going by without someone being awake. You taking a nap after spending two hours searching synonyms on Thesaurus, Hyunjin just waking up, heading out with his signature Canon camera loosely hung around his neck.

Two perfect oppositions leaving their cluttered love scattered all over a cheap apartment.

For Hyunjin, it was the mug you’d gotten him last christmas labeled in bold font: “ART WHORE”, while yours was an equally degrading “SHE WOULD RATHER FUCK THE MEN IN HER BOOKS” sticker print slapped on the back of your laptop.

Little did you know you’d be desperately scraping the sticker off seven months later, that you’d leave your chapter unfinished since breaking up and that he had likely thrown away that mug.

Or maybe not. Maybe he painted over it, scribbled it out and somehow made it look good. Hyunjin has a way of making anything catastrophic look pretty.

You, on the other hand, are an erupting volcano. One that cries its lava onto the earth and doesn’t leave a pretty photograph. One that froths and rumbles, and destroys things as it goes.

Perfect opposites, exactly.

Now for the real question, the monumental “where did we go wrong” part that served as an explanation.

Three little words.

I love you.

You lied.

Those are big words, big words for somebody. Big words for yourself, words you spoke to Hwang Hyunjin, looped in his apartment, making love on the couch.

Big words he didn’t return.

Big words that kept your heart stilled in your chest, left your lips blue, drowned as you collected your discarded clothes off the floor.

And you left.

You didn’t need the awkward silence, the “let me think about it”, the bullshit they spouted Kissing-Booth-style. You needed him, his reassurance when you were your most vulnerable. His three words that told you your three years together weren’t one sided, not wordlessly confessed through actions though too scared to say aloud – a feared incantation.

Words he never said. Because you did love Hwang Hyunjin, so much it consumed you into his favorite muse, him your inspiration. Then came the doubt. The recollection of your favorite, dearest moments. Was it all a lie?

Those hour-long seconds, tangled on his sofa, kept that incessant anxiety alive.

You thought you found the one when your drunk night didn’t turn into an orgasm you can’t remember, but rather being coaxed into a warm shower despite your complaining about your pants being too tight.

Somehow, you can still feel his tender kisses like a ghost of a presence, littering the skin of your shoulder instead of the sloppy alcohol ridden ones you’d known before, and for once you had woken up beside the person responsible — not to a note saying they had to leave early.

He was the one responsible for teaching you how to paint, propping you in his lap, hand guiding your own while tracing careful strokes on the canvas. It was hardly possible sitting on his stool together, though neither of you noticed (nor cared), too busy savoring the intimacy of the moment.

That was Hyunjin. He was the glass of water placed in front of you after one too many at happy hour. He was the relaxing bath when everything hurt, the shoulder to cry on.

But you were mistaken. He wasn’t the one. Seungmin was the one, the one you had left behind only to chase after a toxic remedy.

In fact, Hyunjin never was the one.

And it fucking hurt remembering that.

December 21st - 22nd – Seoul, South Korea.

The last news you’d anticipated slammed into you like a bus.

Cozied up at your desk, a number pops up on your screen, interrupting the one moment of silence you managed to enjoy. Most people didn’t call during your work hours, except Seungmin, who, for the record, called before work.

The number you’d memorized by heart was not normal either.

Him.

“Before you curse at me,” He begins, and your hand hesitantly hovers over the call button, jaw clenched beyond reason, silence shouting loud. No strength in your bones allowed you to reply. Was it fear, hatred? Both most likely.

Taking the time to continue, his silky tone lulls along the line.

“Do you remember the tickets?”

Hatred seemed the dominant factor.

“What are you talking about?” You rhetorically snap, obviously annoyed albeit confused.

Tickets? It’s been three months, why the hell are tickets the first thing he’s mentioning?

He sighs. “The tickets to Paris. You remember, don't you?”

It takes you a moment, then, aha.

How could you forget? The tip of the iceberg of what two naive, lovestruck idiots thought would be forever. Little did they know everything would slip past their fingertips.

”Well um, did you know they’re non-refundable?”

Huh.

“WHAT?!”

You’d just managed to convince yourself free of Hyunjin, but he simply dragged you further into his labyrinth.

Or so you thought.

You had grown since he broke you (with the help of your better-ex, Seungmin). You evolved better (or so you told yourself). So out of the plentiful lessons you’d learned during your reflection, the factor that stuck with you most was that nobody is there to pick up for you. No matter how much you think they will.

You swore yourself into the belief Hyunjin would mend you, but you lived blind to the truth that he was just as broken as you were, a dog chasing its tail.

And so, you dealt with it.

In ways.

Whether that was incessantly talking to yourself, fanatically checking the date, contacting Felix on the verge of tears for him to laugh and then attempt at consoling your doom, or googling the best ways to run away from your predicament, fate had it out for you.

A disgustingly impertinent, unfairly fair fate.

Packing wasn’t all too stressful, unless you count trying on an entire entourage of outfits descending from dinner to snow-attire, then focusing on simple.

And it really shouldn’t have been so awful getting into your car, nonetheless waking up to realize today was the dreaded day, but it was, and you seriously deserved an award for the amount of times you checked your clock.

Although, you at least expected to have a little bit of time before having to face him again. Talking and interacting, not just drilling holes into his head. Little bit of time as in, a few years at least.

You were wrong.

Not the first time that’s happened.

“Hi Hyunjin.”

Answering his awaiting call with unsteady pitch, your eyes immediately gravitate to the blond-haired man. Taller in stature, leaning against a nearby pillar by your gate, staring directly at you.

Never had it felt so terrifying.

“Hey.”

You hesitate, never breaking eye contact with the man you’re speaking to a few meters away.

“Are we…Are we doing this again?”

He’s solemn. He’s not the same. Different.

“I don’t know. You decide for me.”

Never for a second does your gaze stray to his lips that barely move as he utters the line. Not the same either.

Before, you’d always been mesmerized by his lips. Then he’d notice and tease you prior to delivering the long-awaited kiss, again and again till you were breathless and your head became dizzy.

But this wasn't before; this is now, filled with grudges and sourness.

“You know I can’t make big decisions.”

That isn’t him. Isn’t the Hyunjin who would always provide endless tips and support, opinions unable to be held back without duct tape.

“Because you don’t want to get hurt knowing we chose this?” He whispers, and you tug your bottom lip between your teeth hard enough to bleed.

“Because I want better for us.”

“Y/n,” He sadly laughs, and your name rolling off his tongue sends an ache clawing your chest. It’s humorless, bitter in his throat.

“There is no us, only you and me, remember? So who do you want better for?”

There’s no twinkle in his eyes or his charming smile, it’s dry and painful, like he’d been crying.

You don’t want to think about that.

“Tell me something, okay?” Holding your phone to your ear with an iron grip, you slowly inhale through your nose, sparing a fleeting glance to the floor.

“Anything.”

“If I cry, will you hug me?”

“Do you want that?”

Question after question. He reaches in further, ripping out pieces of your soul with each inquiry. Stupid, sure. But genuine, all the way from the shrouded depths of your mind did you ask.

Of course you want that, want what’s so bad for you. No strength can make you admit it.

He knows the answer.

You hang up the call, fiddling around with your suitcase prior to wheeling the blundering thing over and ensuring you find a comfy spot out of Hyunjin’s sight.

Only five minutes of talking and you already feel as if your body is splintering into little pieces he’ll arrange into the perfect puzzle, ideal and pleasing.

He won’t. Not anymore he won’t.

And in that stead you’ll remain shattered.

What a shame.

Now boarding Group Five. All passengers in Group Five are welcome to board.

The hailing announcement earns a muffled groan through your mask, begrudgingly rising to your feet while directing your attention solely upon the bridge and your tightly held boarding pass. Luckily, Incheon International Airport isn’t half as hectic as you anticipated, but you have a gnawing feeling Paris will have a lot more to say.

Truth be told, you thank every lesson on task focus you once deemed useless as you shuffle among Paris-goers to find your seat.

One that obviously had to be right by Hwang Hyunjin.

“How’s you and Seungmin?” He fixes the length of his headphones, sparing a quick look at you while speaking. You despise how easy he treats this, how easy he’s treating everything at the moment.

Unfortunately, booking this hell-on-earth back when either of you were in your demented fantasy-land meant sitting beside each other also, in assigned seats.

Cupid really needs to give up by now.

You grunt beside him, uttering a hushed, “We broke up.”

Tilting his head, Hyunjin presses his face closer, craning. Close enough that you hold your phone up as a barrier, shrinking away nearer to the window.

“…Who broke up with who?”

Asshole.

Sighing boisterously, you shove in your own earbuds, rolling your eyes. Hyunjin, cocking a brow, dejectedly slouched back. Although he doesn’t ask any more questions, and you successfully get through your first three hours in silence.

Well, prior to the flight attendant strolling by with her cart, mandatorily beckoning orders from each row.

Wheeling her cart over where your seats are, Hyunjin takes a ginger ale and the customary pretzels they hand out. So when she gets to you and you order a Sprite, the man to your right’s head snaps to you, giving you quite an incredulous cock of his brow.

“No ginger ale?”

You wrinkle your nose.

“I don’t like it,” Biting back, you interrupt him upon accepting the canned soft drink, expression bitter and unwavering.

“You always got it when you were with me” or “Wasn’t it your favorite” was what you expected to come out of his mouth, positively obliterating any ounce of peace of mind remaining inside your rattling skull. You weren’t about to sit another seven hours sulking about something your ex said.

The ex you were very much over.

Right.

Your new goal? Avoid genuine conversation for as long as possible, at least on this flight.

So, given the chance to be deep in thought, you came to a conclusion.

You were clockwork, just like before. Except now instead of just equaling the time of day, he was the hour hand and you were the minute hand, always chasing after one another only to briefly touch and start all over again in an endless cycle of time.

Although the rockier the air gets and the more your grip squeezes the armrest does your initial goal falter, finding his considerate gesture asking if you were alright practically impossible to keep from responding to.

Especially when a huge drop has his hand racing atop yours, both too nervous to truly let go.

Just the circumstances, you blame, as if this plane was the sole cause of your slamming heartbeat.

Bullshit.

Four days and this trip was going to be one for the books for a multitude of reasons, that’s for sure.

Let’s just hope you can land first.

December 23nd – Paris, France.

His assuring hold on your hand guiding you through the bustling crowds of visitors and locals storming Charles de Gaulle Airport gives you this disgusting nostalgia, festering in your gut the longer you focus on his dark head of hair in front of you, kind, magnificent almond eyes flickering back to catch sight of you time and time again — like you’d magically sift from his grasp.

It’s a miracle you managed to hit ground in one piece, nevertheless end up with the notorious artist-jerkface named Hyunjin navigating you through an supremely overpopulated airport.

Perhaps it’s the scent of wispy pine or faint cigarette smoke that tinges the atmosphere such a rosy hue, perhaps everyone’s anticipation for the holiday’s. Either way, it certainly doesn’t help fuel your “absolutely NO touchy-feely-ness Hyunjin agenda”.

Well, you had no doubt you’d have to stick to your morals on this trip in the first place, and it’s not like the odds were supposed to work in your favor. Although, a little assistance would‘ve been nice.

Guess you’ll just have to make due.

Lovely.

“Thank you!” You shout, forcing your voice to sound chipper speaking to the Cab Driver (opposing the twenty-two hours of traveling you managed to survive through). Except now, you didn’t know what to do nor what to say standing outside the hotel entrance, especially not when Hwang Hyunjin was going to be biting your ass for the next few days.

Much to your luck though, it seemed he was just as clueless as you, both prioritizing just checking into your room first and foremost.

Thankfully, the sights are a wondrous source of distraction, and you devise a plan to go walking more often than not (and not just to avoid Hyunjin). Each building appears as if it’d been expertly carved from stone, historically aged beige, awnings titled a bottomless array of Grand Seiko and Jaeger-LeCoultre.

To add, huge paneled windows are placed in each room, allowing a breathtaking view of the city as evening dawns. Whether it’s a quaint bakery hitched right below a bookstore or the bell tower seated comfortably in the middle of a square—you could never get bored.

Seems your interest tore you away from an unwelcomed reality until Hyunjin cleared his throat, thick eyebrows raised questionably.

“..We could go ice-skating?” He offers, index pointing to the huge rink a few blocks to the left.

You don’t have to speak for him to know your response, unzipping your suitcase to gather a new change of clothes without a word.

“Look, I know you want nothing to do with me, but I doubt either of us will ever have enough money to come to Paris again, so just, do it for the experience, not for me.”

That’s it.

“For you? You think I’m doing this for you? Are you really that conceited to think I’m still catering to you, Hyunjin? I’ve changed whether you like it or not, and I’m not the girl that’s willing anymore,” You toss your clothing to the side, giving him a downright venomous stare. Loathing. “I’m not yours anymore.”

“In fact,” Spitting poison, you stab your index to his chest, causing him to back up the more you advance forward. “You don’t know shit about me.”

He appears torn. His nose scrunches, and his lips form a squabbled line upon his face, evidently troubled.

Somehow, those actions that normally earned your sympathy only reared your deftly oiled gears more, angrily roaring without fail.

“Because if you did, we wouldn’t be like this.”

Gesturing around, you retreat back a few steps, arms slapping your sides irritably. Meanwhile, the tall man remains silent, attention magnetically directed down at his shoes. And for a swift moment, mere seconds, you feel sorry — apologetic even.

It makes you sick to your stomach.

You exhale. “I’ll go, and not for you. Understood?”

Hyunjin doesn’t reply, biting his cheek as he watches you disappear into another room.

You thank the refreshing scent of peppermint for its momentary relief upon entering the bathroom, practically drenching your face in ice cold water over and over as if it’d clear your head.

For you; you’re doing this for you, nobody else, you remind yourself, prepping a washcloth and your toiletries whilst praying the warm shower water eases your blaring jet-lag.

Yet, you didn’t expect a visitor to suddenly pop in while you were mid-shampoo, and it seemed he didn’t expect it either.

You swore the prolonged eye-contact went on for centuries, absolute terror embracing every aspect of your face through the clear shower door.

“Fuck! Get out!”

Scurrying like a character off a cartoon, Hyunjin manages – through spilling apologies – to blindly ram himself into the door, hands gripping his skull.

Suddenly, he pauses, hesitating.

“Wait but I’ve seen you naked befo–”

“GET OUT!” You scream.

“Okay! Okay.” He hurriedly slips out, leaving you to rethink every decision made with his name involved. A recurring thought at this point.

And with that, you quickly accept that your jet lag isn’t even close to gone and likely won’t be as long as the artist sharing your hotel room is within a six-foot radius.

Oh, and you don’t know shit about ice-skating.

Of course, Hyunjin is a natural on ice. He glides like a snow spirit, freer than ever. Meanwhile, your nails are embedded into your vice of a railing, knees shakily attempting at balancing with little success.

He’s the princess, and you’re the frog. It’s decided. Walking while you crawled, running while you walked. A step ahead that was at some point motivating, now plain humiliating.

The ice rink is jam-packed, citizens and tourists alike savoring the crisp winter, the faded twinkling of lights glittering in the distance.

“C’mon, just one?”

You, clawing the icy edge, confusedly avert your focus to where the voice came from.

It’s Hyunjin, gesturing to his camera while you piece together his request before childishly whining your despair. He lifts his toboggan upward, a few endearing tufts of golden peering out to hang over crescent moon eyes, evidently smiling.

Leave it to this man to test your sanity. How could anybody say no when he looked that cute.

“Fine, one.”

Not like I could run off anyway, you mentally consider, finding the fact your legs are quite literally flailing as a good enough sign to give in.

“Yes!” He chirped happily, hurriedly fiddling with his camera.

Watching him with that kind of expression, you witness your Hyunjin again, fumbling around, so excited about the smallest of things.

It hurts.

“I..” He trails off, voice barely audible whilst winking to see through the lense. “Don’t want to miss a moment of you.”

“What was that?”

The camera flashes, and you wonder if you heard him correctly.

“Oh nothing.” His lips curl into a sheepish grin, easing toward you and unexpectedly prying your hand into his own, involuntarily pulling you along.

Panickedly, you clutch onto any article of clothing available (another goodbye to your no-touchy-feely-ness Hyunjin agenda) similar to the handrails, squeezing your eyes shut while painfully awaiting a harsh slam against rock-hard ice.

A harsh slam that never happens.

You cautiously open an eye.

“One, two, one, two.” He counts steadily, soaring across the ice, unable to contain the huge beam the longer he watches you. Captivating.

You fight the urge to smile, the sensation of wind whipping your hair and his warm, reminiscent touch setting your nerves into a dopamine frenzy, making the routinely frown much harder than need be.

Nevertheless, perhaps staying in Hyunjin’s grasp would’ve been the safer option. Because with confidence comes failure (at least in your book of life), and your knees would’ve definitely appreciated not getting ruined.

“Are you alright?” Hyunjin murmurs, sympathetically regarding your black and blue frame, looking worse for wear, skates in hand.

“Amputation has never sounded more tempting,” Grumbling, you hobble to return your skates, the man tailing behind you choking back his giggle, kindly waiting in case you stumble.

From the way things are going, the probability is high. Except, Hyunjin walks on eggshells, worried you might rip his head off in the case he asked the question sitting tentatively on the tip of his tongue.

Keeping himself contained had never been as unbearable as when with you, constantly having to refrain from wrapping your precious self into his arms, witness those warm, beautiful hues blinking at him like globes.

Five minutes into the walk back and your near-face-plant-turned-catastrophe was his last straw.

“Can I at least carry you?”

Your head snapping back was almost comical, ogling at Hyunjin as if he told you he’d been neutered or something.

Insane. He’s officially gone insane.

So have you, apparently. Because after getting all too familiar with the icy side walk for a fifth time, you give in, stifling your thoughts from erupting out of your skull—feeling like your entire earth was slowing down on its axis when he easily swept you off your feet.

Cute, hell, romantic too, until you arrive back at the hotel and the curious looks sent your way have your cheeks burning.

“This is so embarrassing.” You whine, burying your face in your hands. Of course, Hyunjin just laughs.

You missed his laugh.

And he cares for you that night, transporting you from room to room in his arms despite your complaints you could do so yourself (although you secretly preferred it, and no, not because it was Hyunjin, only because of how bruised your legs were).

Plus, the mental exhaustion was practically debilitating, sleep beckoning you into its cozy embrace as the clock ticked on the wall. The man before you knelt in front of where you sat on the side of the bed, gently applying antiseptic to your cuts while you blanked in and out of consciousness.

Any common sense had completely abandoned you. Certainly, since you hadn’t noticed only one bed sat dead center in the room. Nor had you noticed through your half-asleep eyes how sweetly he maneuvered you around, pulling the comforter snug over your body.

His hand strays, wistfully smoothing some hair from off your eyebrow.

“I’m sorry,” He whispers, gathering spare pillows and blankets.

He’ll sleep on the floor.

December 24th – Paris, France.

Apparently, there was much more to this Paris dilemma than just the “going to Paris” part (excluding, y’know, the havoc that’s occurred over the past three days).

This fantastic surprise came in the form of a booked Louvre Museum date, now a bit more like a punishment with your current state of soreness merely rising up from bed. And, in turn, seeing Hyunjin sawing logs on the floor below, an action you were inaudibly grateful for.

You two are a different kind of romantic if that’s what you want to call it, especially when Hyunjin practically barricades the bathroom door, nonsensically shouting that he won’t make the same mistake of walking in ever again.

Sweet gesture, but it gets a tad bit irritating when you have to basically charge the door in order to move the chair situated behind it, making you doubt if it was to keep Hyunjin himself out or keeping you in instead.

Yeah. Different kind of romantic. Exes kind of romantic.

Once 5pm rolls around, you’re already dressed and ready to leave, trying your darndest to pretend you’re doing something on your phone to evade conversation. A middle school move, though your ego is on the brink of becoming extinct anyway.

Seems the final act is when Hyunjin steps out of the bathroom, wearing that tan trench coat he always did.

He notices you analyzing, stifling a very tempting smirk.

“I thought you’d like this jacket. Y’know, since you stared at it all the time.”

With a sentence you watched your endangered ego obliterate in real time, embarrassment swallowing you whole. The cycle is neverending.

Thankfully, at least one factor in your unsolvable equation proves itself useful, the factor being your already purchased tickets, granting an earlier entrance into what felt to be a new world.

A new world you recognized as Hyunjin’s world. Vast, expansive. A place you can get lost in and be okay with. Stories hidden behind gold-rimmed frames, so much to tell if only you’d listen.

He lingers by the Psyche and Cupid sculpture longer than usual. Briefly, he told you about them many moons ago. Their love awakening from something much more tragic, apocalyptical.

What a coincidence.

You spend what feels to be days in there, daylight from the lengthy windows overhead falling dark by the time you’re finished. The temperature dropped exponentially while you explored, ignorant to the frigid conditions till realizing you still had your trek back.

Curse the taxi service for not running twenty-four hours.

“You grew your hair out.” You comment, but it’s not really a comment, more like an observation you already knew and felt the need to point out for some odd reason. The awkward silence is suffocating enough.

Granted, you’d known his hair had grown. You saw him every day coming to and fro from work, so any adjustments he made you saw, some of which you remember loving oh so much.

This adjustment was his hair.

Hyunjin’s lips quirk ever so slightly, fingers straying up to tousle a strand.

“You used to love it when I grew it out.”

He continues to walk ahead, ignoring how you had stalled behind, numb grip desperately clutching your puffer jacket as if it’d magically allow you inhalations.

“You would tie it up for me, and stick my paintbrushes in the bun.”

This time, he spins around, seemingly unaffected by your (both literally and figuratively) frozen finger that simply blinks at him — robotic-like.

Like Hyunjin is a stranger. Like your Hyunjin, the old one you were mad for, is now a stranger.

“And I,” He sniffs in, his exhale causing a cloud of air to comprise in its stead. “Really wanted to marry you.”

There’s your breaking point.

He’s pulled you thread by thread closer to an unthinkable free fall, a freezing free fall. Unfurling your strings of yarn to no point of repair. So as you teeter on the edge, your defense mechanisms kick in. And before you can logically consider your options, you smack him.

Right. Across. The face.

He’s stunned, you don’t blame him for that, but there’s also a crinkle in his brows, a look of utmost hurt beginning to stain any somber expression left.

“You have no right to say that when you’re the one that caused all of this.” Your volume increases, unaffected by the glances from passerby.

You have no doubt the two of you are quite a scene, though common sense had long abandoned you, and no thought but fiery rage curls around you, tendrils alight.

“Why the hell did you want to marry me if you can’t even love me? Quit hurting and confusing me Hyunjin, I can’t keep doing this.” Practically pleading, he pulls his palm from where it babied his cheek, instead retreating to your wrists, keeping you in front of him.

“Listen.”

“No!” You screech, trying your hardest to escape.

“Listen.”

You pause, gingerly allowing him to adjust the scarf over your pink nose and ensure your gloves trap warmth for your fingers.

He bites his lip, gaze dancing across your features.

“I love you.”

You shakily exhale, wishing everything would just stop. Time would simply diminish into nothing but stillness, easiness.

Your anguish and anger was easy, and staying mad was a whole lot easier than this—confronting the pains of meeting him again, nonetheless this trip.

He’s finding the pieces to your puzzle.

You want to hide.

Worst of all? Especially hearing him say the words that ended you two months prior.

Cruel.

“I loved you,” His voice wavers. “More than anything, Y/n. And I still do. But when you said that, I got scared.”

He shakily inhales, the grip on you lessening a bit.

“Because when I say I love you back, that means I have someone to lose.”

It’s hypocritical, you know.

Hell, you know what it’s like to be a hypocrite more than anything right now. From hearing the godforsaken news to sitting in an airplane together after wholeheartedly promising yourself you’d never let him have you once more.

Yet here you were, dragging him by his collar into a kiss.

He kisses you back, like an idiot, childishly grasping his clothing-cladden frame against your face and savoring the small bit of heat huddled between where your lips meet.

His trench-coat, you remember, despite so many adjustments, is the same as usual, and it’s almost comforting to find he smells the same as well—floral, with hints of jasmine (mainly thanks to his favorite perfume). You remember that too.

Guess some things never change.

Perhaps he kept that mug after all, drank from it every day like he used to.

And perhaps, right now, he’s wishing back all the time you’ve spent apart, just like you are. Wishing you would’ve just talked like mature, capable adults. Figured things out.

Newsflash, you’re not mature adults. You’re two broken lovebirds fighting to find their song after being caged together, searching high and low for the perfect pitch when all you needed was a single note, a single start.

Positioning you where an arm wraps around your back, the other holding your cheek, he dips you as if in a ballroom dance, not kissing beneath a street light.

Everything is pretty in Hyunjin’s presence.

“Hwang Hyunjin,” You whisper, nostrils burning the longer you’re surrounded by snow, falling in hefty sheets at this rate.

He hums into your lips, maneuvering his head to kiss away the chilled tears beginning to froth upon your waterline. And in those moments, you feel so fragile, so weak in his touch.

Almost instinctively, his grip tightens oh so slightly.

“I really don’t want to lose you.”

And he laughs, a muffled laugh that nonetheless causes his shoulders to shake before delving further into your kiss, melting away every bit of anguish you felt, all the hurt and ache. Dissolved into nothingness by his lips.

Figures briefly illuminated by the light of the street lamp, you remain ignorant to the encroaching nightfall, the way the stars seamlessly blend with white snowflakes. Something out of a fairytale.

You’re certain you could’ve stood there forever, all numb and freezing cold.

But in love. So very in love.

For him you would’ve stood there. And the you still in denial without understanding this entire story would’ve died before admitting that.

This time, you’re okay with letting him finish the puzzle, create a song as lovebirds.

“You won’t, I promise,” He traces your cheek with his thumb. “Now let’s get someplace warm, shall we?”

Landing an affectionate peck to your burning red nose, he takes your hand, guiding you through climbing snow toward your hotel, sign reading “Hôtel de Vendôme” glittering in the distance.

In your opinion, however, it was too fleeting. A kiss you hadn’t realized you’d been waiting for until it actually happened, till you pathetically craved it again and again.

Although, that didn’t mean you didn’t enjoy gaining feeling back in your fingers and toes, treasuring the flicker of the fire crackling beneath a brick mantel. A few guests litter the lobby, dishing paper cups of hot chocolate left and right, taking the opportunity the mistletoe hanging above a long forgotten stairwell provides.

Christmas Eve and you’re beside the ex you swore you’d never spend it with, spend any time with generally. So surreal you simply cannot stop thinking about it, enough that you become too distracted to notice the mischievous glint in Hyunjin’s vision.

Well, before he points upward and you notice the dangling mistletoe.

And he kisses you again just like you wanted. Deeper, slower, like separating would cause you to break apart, carving your kiss into his memory for a second time.

Standing there, too lost in him to ever consider anything better than this, you begin to think maybe you’ll be able to finish that stagnant book of yours. Maybe it’ll be about two lovers turned two exes, whose trip to Paris might just have been the cherry on top to hurt feelings and broken love. Because, at the end of their tribulations, Cupid falls in love with Psyche.

And you begin to think—as the clock’s ringing announces midnight has arrived—maybe this Christmas will pass by on a good note.

No, you’re certain of it.

FIC TAGLIST. @slut4colinbridgerton @armystay89 @shujohajohaminnie @minhosbitterriver @callmedarlingsstuff

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