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#is that it? did I tag everything? i think i tagged everything
navybrat817 · 2 days
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In a Red Dress
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female Reader
Summary: Bucky has to debrief after a mission, so you decide to stop in for a visit. In a red dress.
Word Count: Over 3k
Warnings: Established relationship, explicit sexual content, unprotected vaginal sex, possessive behavior, dirty talk, flirting, teasing, slight feels (it's me, okay?), Bucky Barnes (he's a warning, okay?).
A/N: Happy FriYAY! I started this in January for @tumblin-theworldaway and finally finished it today. Love you, Aqua! I hope you can relax soon. Could be considered a follow up to With a Bang. ❤️ Not beta read and written on my phone, so any and all mistakes are my own. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!
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Your heels clicked along the floor as you left the elevator, reminding yourself for the umpteenth time that it wasn't Bucky’s fault that his team extended their mission for another day. Unforeseen circumstances were to blame, completely out of his control. You also couldn't hold it against him that he had to debrief after he messaged you that he arrived back home safely and unharmed. It was part of the job. Still, you missed him and wanted a bit of attention.
Which was why you showed up at S.H.I.E.L.D. in a silky red dress and Bucky’s dog tags under your coat. No bra, no panties. Which he realized when you walked into the conference room, unannounced, and removed your coat.
It was fun to put the fire in his steel eyes.
“Welcome home, Bucky,” you smiled as the room went silent. “Don’t mind me. Keep doing what you’re doing.”
Your burly boyfriend was out of his seat and didn't tear his gaze away from you, the tension thick as you tossed the coat away. Today was a good day for your self confidence. You wore it like a second skin, feeling as beautiful on the outside as you did inside. You knew you looked good enough to eat and you wanted him to devour you.
And as much as you loved him in his black shirt and tactical pants, it hid the wall of muscle you wanted to trace with your hands and tongue.
“Hey, baby. Fancy seeing you here,” he said, his eyes dropping to your chest. Your nipples hardened against the fabric and you wished he’d latch his mouth to them. “And speaking of home, I thought I was going to meet you there.”
Your shoulder lifted in a shrug. “I got impatient since you were late. Plus I wanted to show you my dress,” you said, doing a happy twirl. It was reminiscent of New Years. The soft fabric hugged your body tight like your black dress did, but this one left little to the imagination. “What do you think?”
Steve, ever the good friend, averted his gaze, but a scowl crossed Bucky’s handsome face when you both realized that other agents looked your way. You hadn't expected to be the center of attention for anyone else, but it didn't matter to you if others looked. Why would you want them when Bucky had you under his spell?
At least they were smart enough to look away when Bucky’s metal hand clenched.
“Well? Do you like it? I thought the dog tags were a nice touch,” you added, running a finger along them when he remained silent. “They really do go well with everything.”
“Come here,” he said, beckoning you with a metal finger. You knew he meant business when he didn't use his dominant hand. “Now.”
You maintained an aura of innocence as you walked toward him, watching him his lips as your hips swayed.
“I can see your nipples through your dress,” he said low enough for just the two of you, but poor Steve with his enhanced hearing likely picked up on it. “And I’m pretty sure I didn’t give you permission to wear a dress like that in front of other guys.”
Any other guy who said that to you would've been smacked, but hearing it from him only made your eyes fill with amusement as you tilted your head. “I didn’t realize I needed your permission to wear this, Sergeant.”
“Baby,” he whispered. You knew what calling him by his rank did to him.
“I should be able to wear what I want and when I want to. We both know that,” you continued, sliding your finger down his chest instead of poking it like he expected. “But you have my permission to break someone's fingers if they try to touch what belongs to you. Because I do belong to you.”
Your declaration fueled the fire within. There was no hesitation on your part. No doubt. And after being apart for a short time, you wanted him to hear you say you were his girl.
“Yeah, you do. You’re mine,” he said with a raspy touch of confidence that would’ve soaked your panties had you been wearing any. “And I’m all yours, but I still need to debrief.”
You huffed, but the conviction in his tone was admirable. “Fine. I’ll just wait here,” you said when he frowned. Both of you knew the classified information wasn’t meant for your ears, yet no one spoke up for you to leave. Were they afraid of pissing your boyfriend off? “You know, I really do love that grumpy look of yours. It gets me so wet.”
Bucky’s cheek twitched when one of the men coughed. “You're being a fucking tease.”
“Is it teasing if I let you have me?” You asked, tapping your chin. “Teasing you would be letting you go to bed with blue balls.”
Wordlessly, he lifted a hand and clutched the dog tags. He yanked on them hard enough to move you closer, his eyes not leaving yours when you gasped and shivered from the heat-filled look. You considered it a win that you didn’t collapse. Because he was going to destroy you and you’d love every second of it.
“Be very careful what comes out of your mouth next, baby,” he warned.
You smiled, more than ready to give him one more push. “I’m more interested in what’s supposed to go inside my mouth.”
His nostrils flared when you opened your mouth and showed him your tongue and throat. He put a hand on the back of your neck and tilted your head back, lightly nipping at your skin below your jaw. “I should put you on your knees and fuck your throat in front of everyone. Or put you over my knee and spank you ‘til you squirm. Show ‘em that you really are mine.”
You giggled, a soft and tempting sound. “Why fuck my throat when my pussy is nice and wet for you?”
“Gentlemen. I think the Bravo Conference Room is available. Let’s finish this up there,” Steve announced, his chair scraping against the floor and pulling you out of your spell. “Told you that you should’ve just gone home, jerk.”
“Fuck off, punk,” Bucky said, keeping a firm hand on you so you couldn’t look at any of the men filing out. The smirk he gave you was nothing short of predatory once the door clicked shut, leaving the two of you alone. “Since you need my cock so badly that you can’t wait until I get home, bend over that table and let me give it to you.”
Your giggle quickly died in your throat when you realized he was serious. “You’ve never fucked me in one of the debriefing rooms. Someone could walk in,” you reminded him.
Yeah, you showed up wearing what you did. Yeah, you teased him. But it was all in good fun. He wouldn’t actually fuck you on the table.
Right?
Your cheeks grew hot at the next words out of his mouth. “You think I give a shit about if someone walks in?”
He let go of your neck and grabbed your wrist, carefully dragging you to the table. You loved every part of him, but something about his unashamed want of you made your heart soar. Maybe it was because of how much he healed and allowed himself to have a piece of happiness. That some part of him from his past, the man he used to be, surfaced and blended in with who he was now.
Heaven sent and survived the depths of Hell.
“Now, I should spank your ass raw for this little stunt you pulled. Letting them see you in this dress,” he said without any real threat behind his words. “But I won’t do that until we’re home.”
“Yes, Sergeant Barnes,” you smiled, expecting him to bend you over. But he brought a hand to your cheek instead. “Bucky?”
His gaze moved to your lips as he murmured, “Not fucking you until I kiss you.”
His mouth met yours not in a frenzy, but with a smile. The kind that told you how happy he was to be back with you. It wasn’t long before he shifted, the hand on your cheek slipping to your chin so he could deepen it. The soft slip of his tongue ignited your entire body, feeling his heart beat faster as you brought a hand to his chest. A reminder that he was alive, home, and loved you.
You loved him, too.
Your eyes stayed shut for a few seconds after he pulled away. “Missed you, Bucky,” you whispered.
“Missed you, too,” he said, his voice rougher than before. “Now bend over.”
The air rushed from your lungs at the switch from want to tenderness to need, your chest pressed against the table as he pushed your dress. Part of you wondered if he would’ve made good on his threat and fuck you in front of the other agents. He liked to toe the line of wanting to show others you were his and not wanting them to see intimate parts of you.
Which made you wonder what he’d do if someone walked in. He said he didn’t give a shit, but would he stop and try to cover your body with his own? Or would he keep fucking you?
You wouldn't mind either way.
“Spread ‘em,” he ordered, which you immediately obeyed. The low whistle made you shut your eyes before he dragged a finger along your exposed slit. “Didn’t even bother covering your pretty pussy with underwear. Probably best since you would’ve ruined them with how wet you are.”
“You’ve ruined all of my panties, Bucky,” you said, the distinct sound of his belt buckle and pants zipper making you moan. “And I’m ready for you to fuck me.”
“Yeah? Your pussy ready to stretch around my cock?” He asked, making you shriek when he unexpectedly brought his flesh hand down hard on your ass. He only used the metal when you were in real trouble. “You better not have fucked yourself with a toy before you got here.”
“I didn’t! I haven’t even touched myself,” you promised before he stretched over your back. “I just need you in me.”
“That’s what I like to hear. And though you interrupted my debriefing and I may need to stab a teammate or two, you’re still my good girl. And good girls deserve rewards,” he growled in your ear, nipping it for good measure as you moaned. The head of his cock teased your entrance, your core clenching in anticipation. “I’ll fuck you and you’ll come all over me, just like you want and just like I need. And you’ll take it ‘til I’m done with you.”
You reveled in being his good girl, even when you were bad. How no one else could take his cock the way you could. How he made you soak your sheets day and night with your essence because being fucked by Bucky Barnes made you gush like a geyser. It was obscene.
“I’m your good girl and I’ll take everything you give me,” you said sweetly, knowing he’d fuck you whether you said it or not. “So let my pussy welcome your cock home, please?”
The soft kiss to your neck was almost like an apology before he pushed into you, both of you moaning. He’d check later to make sure you weren’t sore since he didn’t stretch you at all, but the slight ache when he bottomed out always bordered more on pleasure than pain. The overwhelming sensations of him inside you made your eyes roll back and he hadn’t even started thrusting.
“So fucking warm. And wet,” he grunted in your ear when he finally moved, his pants rubbing against your bare thighs. “Jesus fuck, you’re soaking me.”
Bucky robbed you of your breath when he leaned up and gripped your hips, hammering into you. You tried to grip the table, but all you could do was let him pull you back and forth. He was relentless like this, powerful, dominant. Making you take it, just like he said you would. Funny how minutes ago you were the one confidently teasing him and now you were a whining, needy mess. All because his cock shut your brain off.
You didn’t need to think like this anyway. You could be his doll, just for him to play with and love. In your pretty red dress or nothing at all.
“Harder, Sergeant,” you begged, your moans spurring him on.
“Not hard enough for you? Needy little thing,” he groaned, the sound of him burying himself inside you over and over echoing in your ears. “Missed this cunt. Missed you.”
Your pussy gripped him tight, the heady bliss making your vision blur. “Missed you. M… Missed your cock,” you slurred.
He chuckled, not slowing his pace as he leaned back down to tickle your cheek with his scruff. “So fucking cute when you get drunk on my cock.”
You wondered some days where he learned to talk dirty before you remembered that you had a large hand in that. He loved telling you how greedy your pussy made him. How he loved watching his spend slide out of you so he could fuck it back in. How he’s shocked some days that he can fit inside you, so he must’ve turned you into a perfect cocksleeve.
His cock made your mind down, but your pussy made him run his mouth.
“Gonna make you sit on it when we get home. Fuck, gonna make you ruin the sheets when I fuck you into the mattress,” he rambled, making you moan louder. You didn’t care who heard. Let them hear what he did to you. What he turned you into: his needy slut. “Tell me you want it.”
“I want it,” you moaned, his thrusts pushing your breasts harder against the table, your nipples hard and aching for him to touch them. He would later. You could wait. But you couldn’t wait to fall over the precipice. “‘M gonna come.”
“Do it. Won’t stop you,” he encouraged. He no doubt felt how close you were with how you clenched around him, your back starting to arch. “C’mon, baby. Come all over me.”
Your eyes fluttered as your body tensed, your walls pulsing around him your orgasm surged like a tidal wave. The ripples tore through you, ebbing and flowing as you moaned his name. If you could drown in pleasure, you’d want his name to be the last word that spilled from your lips.
“That’s my girl,” he praised as your limbs went lax.
You throbbed around him until he pulled out, making you whimper since he didn't come. You wanted him to finish inside you. He had you on your back with your legs spread wide before you could beg for it, keeping your dress up as he speared you once again. He thrust fast, needing his release just as badly as you needed yours.
“Need to see your face when you milk my cock,” he grunted, licking his thumb and bringing it to your clit. You whined, jerking underneath him as he rubbed the swollen nub. “Oh, stay still. You can give me one more.”
You almost denied him before you felt the coil tighten within you again. You never thought you could have back-to-back orgasms until you started sleeping with him. But it shouldn’t have surprised you. He played you like his favorite instrument and you were his good girl.
You could give him one more.
“Come with me,” you panted, staring into his darkened eyes as his face twisted in ecstasy only you could provide him. “Please.”
He couldn’t resist that last bit of begging.
The waves crashed again, adding to your first high, as his mouth opened in a groan, filling you in hot spurts. Watching him tip over the edge was a sight to behold, his cheeks tinged as his hips stilled and both of you tried to catch your breath. He laid across you after a moment, the weight of him making you sigh.
“Welcome back,” you smiled as your breathing evened out.
He stayed inside you as he brushed his lips against yours. You were going to make a mess all over the table when he pulled out, but it was worth any grief either of you got. “Good to be back,” he whispered, his hand on your cheek again in a tender display as his eyes scanned your face. “So beautiful.”
“Me fucked out or the dress?” You smiled.
“Both,” he smiled back, your face warm.
“Thank you,” you breathed, your heart still racing fast. You suddenly wished you were in bed so he could properly hold you. But he’d have you home soon enough for that. “Hope I didn't get you into any trouble,” you added. That was the last thing you wanted to do.
“Steve gets it,” he assured you, briefly closing his eyes when you brushed your fingers through his hair. “I’m sorry we got back late. He’s right. I should've just gone right home.”
Your heart clenched a little at that. Missions were important and not easy on either of you, but it was his job. “It’s okay. I’m just glad you made it home safely,” you said, arching your back. The table wasn't exactly comfortable, but you were too fucked out to care.
You also didn't want to be apart from him since he was back.
He wrapped an arm underneath you to ease some of your strain. “Still teased me by showing up like this. I might fuck your throat and put you over my knee tonight,” he groaned, squeezing a breast through your dress before he straightened out the dog tags. “But then I’m going to hold you after and not let go.”
You smiled, looking forward to it. “Yes, Sergeant.”
And you'd be sure to thank Steve later for clearing out the room so you could welcome your man home.
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Nothing to see here, lovelies. Go about your business! Hehe. 😇 Love and thanks for reading! ❤️
Masterlist ⚓ Bucky Barnes Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi
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landograndprix · 9 hours
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𝐇𝐞𝐚𝐝 𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐟𝐞𝐞𝐭 ♧ 𝐥𝐧⁴ - ii
❥ your peaceful life gets disturbed by your little brothers teammates in the worst and possibly best ways possible
❥ lando isn't one to give up and neither is your friend.
❥ a good ol' he fell first, she fell harder fic with piastri!reader // thanks for the love for this fic so far <3
part i - part iii
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y/npiastri
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liked by evaharris, oscarpiastri and 1,003 others
y/npiastri friyay. 🍹
tagged: nessieness, evaharris
view all 98 comments
oscarpiastri not the cringe caption
oscarpiastri you drink too much coffee
↳ y/npiastri and you put your nose in my businesses too much
landonorris you tell him
oscarpiastri mate...
oscarmemes 😍
landonorris love the picture of you and oscar in slide 3
↳ oscarpiastri ???
nessieness what's with all these little boys in your comments?
↳ y/npiastri 🤷‍♀️
evaharris stalker behaviour
oscarpastry what's lando doing here 😭
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y/nusername
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liked by oscarpiastri, landonorris and 1,211 others
y/nusername alexa, play miami by will smith.
tagged: oscarpiastri, nessieness
view all 93 comments
evaharris have fun babies 😘
oscarmemes you're going to be at the Miami GP? 😭
↳ y/npiastri I am! :)
landonorris aww cute dinner date with the little brother
↳ nessieness someone's gotta do it...
nessieness your game is weak
landonorris teach me your ways
oscarpastry what is going on here?! 😭
oscarpiastri lovely dinner, vibes were immaculate
↳ y/npiastri do you even know what that word mean?
oscarpiastri did you know you could be nice to your brother?
y/npiastri that's not fun :(
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y/nusername posted to their story
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landonorris replied to your story
landonorris
i can delete your number
do you want me to delete your number?
I swear I didn't ask for it
y/npiastri
nah it's alright, you can keep it
landonorris
really didn't ask for it
y/npiastri
I know :)
feeling sorry you met vaness while she's piss drunk.
she's cuter when she's sober :')
landonorris
yeah she really is something 😂
is that why you didn't go out with her tonight?
y/npiastri
one of the reason plus I'm a very boring person, didn't feel like going out.
landonorris
I don't think you're boring
y/npiastri
And I don't think you know me well enough 😂
landonorris
Then I'll have to get to know you better 😉
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y/nusername
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liked by nessienes, landonorris and 1,000 others
y/npiastri miami ii
tagged: nessieness, oscarpiastri
view all 99 comments
evaharris ossie ❤️
↳ y/npiastri ossie 💕
nessieness ossie 💖
oscarpiastri I've been summoned
evaharris love you lil bro, proud of you <3
landonorris ossie ❤️
oscarmemes LANDO 😭
oscarpastry love how you're joining oscar to races more this year!
mcpiastri had to double check who posted this only to realize y/n accepted my request?!?! 😭
↳ oscarpastry one of the lucky ones!
oscarmemes vanessa wrong team :(
↳ nessieness no one beats sir lewis hamilton
sarahf hope you're having fun over there, your team is killing it this week! My perm is looking amazing again!
landonorris need to get you a hat with the number 4
↳ nessieness can you get me a lewis hat?
landonorris no
nessieness rude
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Everything taglist; @thomaslefteyebrow @hopefulinlove @smoothopz @softboystarkey @honethatty12 @cixrosie @parkersmjs @ireadthensuetheauthors @celestialams @be-your-coffee-pot @heli991113 @kodzuvk @reality-is-a-con @80sloverry @bibissparkles @myescapefromthislife @lanando4 @elliegrey2803 @ravisinghs-wife @harrysdimple05 @minkyungseokie @pretty-little-bunny382728 @thatgirlthatreadswattpad @severewobblerlightdragon @cherry-piee @namgification @mycenterfold @devineendevers @celestialend @jsjcue @d3kstar @themislovesf1 @geehsf @mehrmonga @gentlemonsterworld
Lando taglist: @beatricemiruna @simp-for-fictional-people @landossainz @christianpulisic10 @bored-brunette2 @i83andrew @mcmuppet @justdreamersdream
head over feet taglist: @loloekie @charlesgirl16 @lilipiggytails @teenwolf01 @zucchinimalfoy @pumpkiinpasties @2bormaybenot @carpediem241108 @emyladia @lauralarsen @evie-119 @creamsteam3 @itsjustfranzi @ririyulife @tinyhrry @the-untamed-soul @jasminesacademia
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evermoresversion · 18 hours
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ㅤㅤ♡⃕ ﹙"slut!", jude bellingham.﹚
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A/N Jude is my newest obsession, so yeah. Expect to see a lot of content on my page about him.
PAIRING Jude Bellingham x Fem!Reader
TW/TAGS Established relationship, use of the word "slut", slight angst, fluff. ENGLISH'S NOT MY FIRST LANGUAGE.
SUMMARY Even if everyone was against your relationship with Jude, he would still choose you and you would still choose him.
SONG "Slut!" by Taylor Swift.
REQUESTS ARE OPEN | JUDE'S MASTERLIST | MASTERLIST
Jude was the internet's boyfriend these days, and you knew it perfectly well.
And you also knew that the moment you started dating him, many people would like the idea of it and others not so much.
And you were worried about what those people said, of course you were. You got lost overthinking the situation but then Jude hugged you and it was as if everything disappeared, only the two of you existed in your little love nest.
"What's in that pretty little mind of yours, hmm?" He questioned, kissing your forehead, brushing one of your strands of hair behind your ear.
"It's nothing, honey." You denied, burying your face in his chest, losing yourself in the feeling of his embrace and he didn't press any further. He placed a kiss on your forehead again and rested his head on yours.
That night you both decided to go out to a club with some of his friends, you agreed to go with him because after all you needed to clear your mind from social media.
While there, both of you danced, drank and laughed with each other.
"I need to go to the bathroom." You warned Jude, giving him a peck on the lips and he nodded, giving you another.
"Okay, I'll wait here."
You hummed in affirmation and walked towards the women's bathroom to do whatever you needed.
When you were washing your hands, a black-haired girl came out of the bathroom and although you didn't give it much importance, you noticed her mocking smile when she noticed your presence.
"Slut." She murmured as she passed behind you, leaving the bathroom.
You stopped your actions in your tracks and analyzed her words.
"She just...?" You muttered to yourself, laughing in disbelief.
You dried your hands and left the bathroom, but your heart jumped a little when you saw the same girl next to your boyfriend. She seemed to be a fan because they were taking a photo.
You took a deep breath and walked towards them.
Jude's eyes lit up when he noticed you and he offered you one of his hands so that you could approach him.
"I missed you." He murmured, kissing your forehead. It was something he did often because he knew you liked it.
"Me too." Your gaze was still on the black-haired woman who looked at you up and down with the same mockery as before and left.
"Do you want something to drink?"
"Yes, vodka. Double." You asked, sitting next to him and he took care of getting you the drink.
The hours passed and the more they did, the more you drank to the point that you couldn't even stand without the risk of falling.
"Oh shit." You murmured between giggles as you left the club with Jude holding your waist firmly.
"Come on, this way, pretty girl." He guided you to his car and helped you get into the passenger seat.
The whole way to his apartment you were silent. The nickname the woman had called you echoed in your mind and the contemptuous way she looked at you.
Upon arrival, he once again helped you out of the car and into the house.
Closing the door, he picked you up bridal style and you giggled, resting your head on his chest, your fingers playing with one of the buttons on his shirt.
"I'm a lucky girl, right?" You murmured as he sat you down on the bathroom sink counter.
"I'm the lucky one, love."
He rummaged through your things for makeup removal supplies and you hummed, thinking about your response.
"Nah, I don't think so." you looked anywhere else but at him as he walked over and stood between your legs.
He frowned and tried to meet your gaze.
"y/n, you've been different since you came back from the bathroom, did something happen?"
You looked at him sideways, embarrassed to say your thoughts out loud but you did.
"Do you think I'm a slut?" You murmured thoughtfully.
"Wha...?"
"I mean, I know it sounds bad, but, I don't know," you brushed a strand of your hair that Jude always tucked behind your ear and continued talking. "A woman called me a slut today," you glanced at him again and played with your hands. "The woman who approached you about the photo."
"Babe..."
"Everyone loves you, that was my crime." You laughed ironically. "And if they call me a 'slut' it'll be worth it, I guess."
"Listen to me." He cupped your face by your cheeks and made you look into his eyes. "You are not what they say you are, you are the girl of my dreams." He made small circles with his thumbs on the apple of your cheekbones and you looked at him carefully. "You are beautiful, the purest soul I have ever had the pleasure of knowing, you are everything I need and if my 'fans' don't understand it then screw them, I'm not going to stop loving you because they don't like the idea of it. I won't, I'm in love with you."
You smiled and pressed your forehead to his, affectionately brushing your nose with his.
"Suddenly I stopped being drunk."
You both laughed at the occurrence and you kissed his lips lovingly.
"I'm in love with you, too."
disclaimer ── evermoresversion © 2024.
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miserycanary · 2 days
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PERSISTS IN DELUSION ᡣ𐭩 previous ⤶
pairing: Simon 'Ghost' Riley & reader 
synopsis: you've left and what was left of Ghost (pt.2)
tags: I really don't know whether to tag this as fluff or angst 
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The clock hanging by the wall ticks persistently like a bomb waiting to break Ghost’s delusion that you’ll come back. Ever since that night, he has spent his time like a literal ghost. Barely eating, barely moving, barely living without you. 
With each heavy step that he takes toward your shared bedroom—now bare—the pain in his chest drags him. “I’m home, baby..” he gruffs at the presence he tricked himself to think was still there. Dropping his things by the door, he moves so slowly and plops himself at the mattress that is now cold.. Like how it always was before you came into his life and warmed his whole body and soul. 
Ghost isn’t a crier. Never was. He took all the beatings from his father without letting a single tear fall. He didn’t shed shit when he had to force himself out of the grave he was put in alive. Not even when he left with no family and had to witness that moment with his own eyes. Ever since then, he has swore to heaven and earth that they will never take anything from him again. Depriving himself of anything that could tie him down emotionally.
Then suddenly there was you in all your glory.
Face painted similarly to his as you hand the kids celebrating Día de Muertos candies. Ghost never thought he’d take a step back in this country but as if tugged by fate, he found himself surrounded with the similar decorations that started his nightmare. Yet all he could zero out on was you. And that moment, Ghost knew that heaven and earth were snickering at him, mocking him for what he swore long before was now forgotten. 
As the crown dissipates, he takes all the scuffed pieces of his heart. “That’s a pretty flower,” he grumbles. He sees the way you flinch at the sudden person, turning around to see his towering self. Simon wasn’t stupid and he knew how intimidating he looked and expected you to be scared. His apology is already at the tip of his tongue. 
“Thank you! Do you want it?” He stills, blinking at the unexpected reaction. “O-oh, yeah, thank you.” You, on the other hand, expected the giant of a man to take the delicate flower with roughness, even expecting some petals to fall yet he took it so gently. Simon plucked the stem from your hand, placing it on the wide expanse of his palm and leaning lower to expect it. “Pretty..” he mutters, and you almost agreed if not for the way he said it with his eyes on you. 
Time passed and you guys were intertwined, lives and love exchanged throughout the two years he was with you. 
Ghost fully expected you to run when he first told you about himself, but you stayed. You tore down his walls with patience and care, showing empathy for what he has gone through but never pity and that made him fall deeper. Now Ghost would be lying if he said he has relationship experiences but he knew that if he doesn’t take this opportunity, then he’d lose you before he even had you (he lost you either way). 
But what could he do now? What’s done has been done. He could learn about a relationship all he wants but who matters the most to him is gone. With a new profound energy, he pulled himself up, opening the drawer beside him. He shuffles through the pile of things before pulling out what he was looking for. Sighing, he opens the box and stares at the engagement ring. 
Taking you for granted was not his intention. When you started to cook him meals, take care of the dishes, and everything else, he thought this was the norm. His duty was just to spoil his pretty girl. He never found anything wrong with the dread and exhaust that paints your face everyday because he was used to the heavy weight and assumed everyone was like that. You never complained, so he thought everything was fine. 
And he never wanted to snap back at you. He knew all about the sacrifice you did and gave for him, and how much you went through just to stay with him. He watches your eyes dim each time he tells you that you guys have to move once again or how broken you were when he found you at the hands of someone who wanted him dead. Loving him and being loved wasn’t easy but you did it with no complaints. 
Now he had to go out and be stupid, letting you slip from his fingers just because he couldn’t carry his weight for some measly housework. The very next day that you left the house, staying somewhere who knows where, he bought a dishwasher and hired a cleaner. Try as he might to do the housework just to please you, he knows that his time won’t allow it. So, he tried his best to work around it with the hopes that you’ll come back, but where were you? 
He has called your number multiple times after giving you enough space but no calls were returned. You were coming back to him, right? You won’t leave him, right?
You’ll still love him, right? You will. Ghost smiles softly to himself, kissing the ring while a shy tear slips. “You’ll look so pretty with this ring, darling…” he whispers to the presence that he tricked himself was still there.
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꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱: this is so long overdue. Sorry for the person who requested this because it took me this long!! 📩
dividers by @cafekitsune
Please reblog!! Ask is open! 
check out my other works in the masterlist: ୭!
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monamipencil · 1 day
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asking svt if you can tie a bow on ‘it’ | 96 line
genre; nsfw, cockette, mdni <3 | a/n; need wonwoo to head lock me. i love woozi and anyone who doesn't is weird. lola in her woozidan era <33 | check out 95z, 97z!
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— jun
congrats, you've managed to weird out the jun. he's weirded out by the idea, per se. not you though, he just finds you adorably weird. but he's down to the idea, infact he's more excited than you (it grew on him). bugging you about what kind of ribbon you're going, what colour, silk or satin, etc etc. you know that he's just curious but he keeps interrupting the mood, forcing you to do what you do. tying him up and gagging him. with the same ribbons that sat on his cock, prettily now. and he's fucking enjoying it. he's strong enough to tear apart the material, binding his hands to the bed post but he doesn't. instead, he whimpers and tremble as you use a vibrator on his tip :)
— soonyoung
so down for the idea. took some time processing when you asked him though. he even shaves completely cause you said you wanted pics as well. and he's trying so hard not to cum right away. your soft touches, and the feeling of the soft ribbon tied around his cock is way too much for his sensory system. but he accidentally worries you because he looks like he's being held hostage as you're taking the pics. he tries to relax, but the moment he does, you wrap your lips around his tip, clicking another pic. then, he breaks. cumming right on your face. hurriedly apologizes and dies a bit on the inside, but makes up for it by blowing your back out <3
— wonwoo
tries so hard to suppress his smile when you ask him. so damn proud of himself (and his buddy, down there). but he wants to tie ribbons on you as well, to which you agree. you drool at the sight of his pretty pink tip fading into the pale pink of the ribbon (you couldn't resist and tied one around his biceps as well). he rubs the tip on your lower lip, the salty precum coating your lips. but before things could go further, he makes you lay down on the bed. you watch as he ties the ribbon on your thighs and one surrounding both your breasts as well. he takes pics of you two. one with you on his lap, one with him teething the ribbon on your breasts and thighs, one with your pretty lips wrapped around his tip, one with his head between your thighs, and one with him head locking you (specifically under your request). saving them on a separate folder on his phone.
— woozi
he already agreed to you tying a bow on his biceps and his hair. he didn't mind it and found it low-key cute. but now you wanna tie one on his cock? stares at you for solid 5 seconds before breaking out into a blush. he gets so red, thinking about it. he's not excited about the idea. it's just, do you love him that much to want to tie a bow on his cock? (or are you just perverted? both.) agrees eventually, if you're happy, he's happy too. and you almost become obsessed with how the pretty red (“shit, this is red too”) bow looks on his hard, prettier cock. it takes everything in you to not just take him in your mouth and give him the best head possible. which you did actually. and you know this won't be the last time you tie a bow on his cock.
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tags; @seungkwanschicken @aaa-sia @dokyeomkyeom @bangantokchy @jespecially (send an ask to be added on the taglist!)
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luvingtsumu · 3 days
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( MIYA ATSUMU & SAKUSA KIYOOMI X FEM!READER )
atsumu and you had fun tormenting kiyoomi, but the three of you had more fun when atsumu and kiyoomi were tormenting you instead.
content— smut, trio, oral (male receiving), bisexual!atsumu, vaginal penetration, vaginal fingering, bisexual!kiyoomi, anal penetration, overstimulation, degradation, creepies, voyeurism, focused on reader.
author’s note— i don’t even know how this came out of my mind. btw tell me if i’m missing some tags 🙏
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It felt good for Kiyoomi. Finally having a bit of peace and quiet after you and Atsumu tormented him for the whole night on his birthday party, that by the way, he didn’t even want in the first place.
He let out a long sigh before looking down. Well, it was almost all peace and quiet
“Can you two stop making such noises?” he said, pushing both of your heads to keep them around his cock “Yeah, just like that.”
“Omi—” Atsumu tried to whine, but his head was immediately pushed back to keep licking the length of his cock.
“Shut up.” he grunted “At least you two finally have something good to do with your mouths, hm?” his lips curled up.
You didn’t knew where to look, in front of you to see Atsumu’s face as he licked Kiyoomi’s cock with you, or up to see Kiyoomi’s mocking smirk.
You ended up just closing your eyes.
The warmth between your legs was unbearable as Kiyoomi kept pushing your head against Atsumu’s so you both would suck the sides of his cock at the same time.
It felt so lewd coming from him. And that made it 10 times better.
“Shit.” he mumbled, scoffing “You two do this as if you’ve been waiting for this moment— Mgh.”
Atsumu let out a moan too, his cock was hard and throbbing, hell, he couldn’t even think about who he wanted to fuck the most.
You, probably. And Kiyoomi probably did too; because he pushed Atsumu’s head away and quickly slid his cock in your mouth, cumming down your throat.
Such a nice thing for Atsumu to see.
“Ah.” he let out a breath “Yer so rude, I wanted some too, Omi-Omi.” he whined.
“I bet you did.” Kiyoomi said, raising your head to check if you swallowed everything without leaving a drop.
You licked your lips as you lazily looked up at Kiyoomi with a smirk “Geez, you’re so dirty, Omi.”
“Right? I would tell the team but no one would believe me.” Atsumu added “Who would think ya were like this?”
“You two never know when to keep your mouth’s shut.” he frowned “Miya, sit up.”
“Yes, sir.” he said mockingly.
“You want more?” he asked you, your eyes shining when he pulled your hair, making a groan escape your throat “Of course you do.”
Atsumu sat up in bed, looking at both of you with such hunger in his eyes as he stroked himself over the clothes.
“Take them off.” Kiyoomi ordered in his direction, and who was Atsumu to deny him? No one. Much less when his cock was crying in his shorts.
He moaned in relief as the cold air of the room hit his hot skin. Your eyes looked at his cock with desire, and you couldn’t hide that from Kiyoomi.
“Oh, you’re salivating for this.” Kiyoomi pushed your head towards Atsumu’s cock “Suck.”
You looked up at Atsumu, he looked at you with a mix of lust, amusement, and like he really wanted this.
“Don’t mind if I do...” you whispered, leaning towards his tip before taking all his length in one go.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck.” Atsumu moaned, raising his hips, making you gag.
Kiyoomi stepped back as he watched the scene, slowly fucking onto his fist.
Your head was only pulled out of Atsumu’s cock to catch air before you suck it all again, drool coming out of the corner of your lips. It was sloopy, lewd, vulgar. It was perfect.
The dark haired watched without missing a detail. He saw Atsumu’s hand pulling your hair, his eyes rolling to the back of his head as the lewdest sounds escaped his lips. You were cupping his balls, stroking them as you pressed your thighs against eachother, trying to get friction where you were the most needier.
“Such filthy sluts.” he said, Atsumu looked up at him, red cheeks and a thin layer of sweat on his forehead.
“Omi.” he moaned “W-wanna fuck her, please. Need to fuck her.”
“You wanna fuck her?” he said, getting behind you as you were on your knees “You think she’s ready?”
Kiyoomi grabbed your hips, raising them until you were standing on your feet again, making you arch your back to continue sucking Atsumu’s cock, an uncomfortable position that you didn’t even mind, you were so concentrated in how good Atsumu was throbbing in your mouth.
“She’s so wet.” he said, looking at the wet spot on your jeans; he pulled them down in one go along with your panties.
“Omi.” Atsumu whined as he saw Kiyoomi gripping your ass.
“You’re so whiny.” he sighed, sliding one finger into your pussy.
Your lips separated from Atsumu’s cock to let out a loud moan, that was quickly silenced by Atsumu pushing his manhood down your throat once again.
“Shit, it feels better now.” Atsumu groaned, your moans send vibrations up his body “Keep her moanin’ like that.”
Kiyoomi scoffed, sliding a second finger inside you “I don’t think she’s ready, she’s squeezing me.”
“Like that!” Atsumu quickly spoke “Want her like that. Wanna cum inside her.” he whimpered.
“Hm…” Kiyoomi thought about it for a bit. Could you take it?
Does it matter?
Your lips separated from Atsumu’s cock with a ‘pop’ sound, Kiyoomi pulled you up, carrying you as if you weighed nothing; expected from a professional athlete.
“You better put up a show for me.” Kiyoomi said, sitting you on Atsumu’s lap, your back against his chest.
Atsumu immediately gripped your hips, and when you less knew it, his cock was already sliding inside of you.
“Fuck! Atsumu!” you moaned, head falling back onto his shoulder.
“God, yer right, Omi.” Atsumu said, thrusting onto you “She’s so tight.”
Kiyoomi sat up in one of the chairs in front of the bed, his eyes focused on Atsumu’s cock sliding in and out of your pussy.
Atsumu messily took your shirt off, throwing it somewhere in the room as he kissed your neck, fucking you silly.
“Give me a break.” you whimpered, turning your head towards Atsumu’s.
“Yer squeezin’ me, ya like how I fuck ya?” he turned his head to look at you for a few seconds before his eyes locked with Kiyoomi’s “Like whatcha see?”
Kiyoomi groaned as he moved his hand faster around his cock. As much as he hated you two, as insufferable as you were, both of you were so gorgeous. Everything he looked for in a man was in Atsumu, and everything he looked for in a woman was in you.
Atsumu’s head turned again and captured your lips into a messy kiss, tongues intertwined as he kept fucking you like it was his last day on this earth.
You were so turned on, you hadn’t feel like this in a while, you could feel your own wetness go down your ass. Was it because of Kiyoomi watching? Atsumu fucking you? Both of them willing to make you drunk in cock?
“Cumming! I’m cumming!” you whimpered, drool going down your chin.
“Cum fer me, pretty.” Atsumu said, kissing and sucking your neck as he took his hand to rub your clit.
You closed your eyes, feeling like you were about to pass out as your legs started shaking uncontrollably while you came on the spot.
Atsumu stopped moving for a second, you were able took a deep breath before you felt him pushing into you again.
“W-wait!” you quickly opened your eyes, looking down at his cock sliding up into you again, his thrusts becoming more deep, reaching that gummy spot that made you whimper like a kicked puppy.
“Need to cum too.” he moaned.
“I c-can’t.” you cried, your vision was so blurry that you barely managed to see Kiyoomi standing in front of you.
“Shh…” he whispered as he pushed your head down, his tip hitting your lips before you opened them welcoming to start sucking him.
Atsumu hit you rough from behind, his thrusts pushing you more into Kiyoomi’s cock, you felt as if you were flying, being barely able to breathe.
“Cummin’!” Atsumu announced, and your walls squeezed him “Ah— Don’t worry, pretty, gonna cum inside ya.”
You felt Atsumu’s warm sperm painting your insides, and that was enough to take you into a second orgasm.
Your lips separated from Kiyoomi’s cock, moaning loudly before you felt Kiyoomi cumming too— in your face.
“Fuck, Miya, look at this.” Kiyoomi said, looking down at your face.
Your eyes were half closed, cum going down your red, puffy cheeks, mouth open in a perfect oval as you tried to catch some air.
Atsumu grabbed you from behind again, pushing you against his chest so he’ll be able to see your face.
“Ah, do I get some too? Finally.” he smirked before he leaned towards your face, licking Kiyoomi’s cum out of your face.
“You’re so disgusting.” Kiyoomi mumbled, keeping his eyes on both of you while his cock slowly hardened again.
“Yer not fun.” he snickered, his hand grabbing Kiyoomi’s cock, making him groan “It’s yer turn, Omi-Omi.”
With one hand he kept you in place while the other one lined Kiyoomi’s cock with your abused pussy.
“Wait…I can’t.” you mumbled, lazily opening your eyes to look down.
“Ya can, pretty, don’t worry.” Atsumu chuckled quietly, slowly pushing Kiyoomi’s head into your pussy until Kiyoomi himself pushed all of his length inside of you.
You moaned, biting your lip as you leaned back onto Atsumu’s warmth.
“She’s awake?” Kiyoomi said, starting to slowly thrust inside of you.
“She is.” Atsumu nodded, slowly making circles on your back with his thumb, moving your hair aside so it wouldn’t stick onto your forehead.
“Now, this is the only way you two can agree on something and work as two civil people?” you mumbled, groaning when Atsumu gripped your hips, keeping you in place as Kiyoomi fucked onto you.
“It’s amazin’, isn’t it?” Atsumu smirked “We found somethin’ else to do outside of court.”
“We should’ve kept it in you and I torturing him, not you and him torturing me.”
“Ya like this better, don’t lie.” he chuckled “Don’t worry, I’ll go easy on ya…I don’t know about him though.”
You glanced at Kiyoomi pounding your pussy, his hands under your knees, keeping your legs open.
“Wait, what?” you said, then a loud gasp escaped your lips when Atsumu started pushing his tip on your ass.
“Mm…” he hummed, slowly pushing onto you, using your own fluids as lube.
Your legs were almost completely numb, and your moans were becoming louder and louder as Atsumu’s cock slid completely inside your hole. Now with Kiyoomi thrusting onto your pussy, and Atsumu’s cock being kept inside of your ass, you felt yourself reaching your climax again.
“Fuck! I’m gonna cum, Omi!” you whimpered.
Atsumu clicked his tongue “I didn’t even get to move and yer already cummin’? Disrespectful if ya ask me.”
Atsumu gripped your waist as he slowly pulled his cock out, then he pushed it all in again, grabbing a peace with Kiyoomi so when his cock was out, his was in.
Hot tears rolled down your cheeks, your mouth completely open and nothing but whimpers and moans escaped your throat.
“Damn, Omi.” a mix of a chuckle and a moan escaped Atsumu’s lips “She’s takin’ us so well.”
Kiyoomi took one of his hands to your mouth, sliding three fingers in, making your moans become nothing but muffled babbling.
“She can take us at the same time? She’s such a needy slut. She was born for this.” Kiyoomi’s words made a sob escape your lips “Look how she’s licking my fingers, no doubt she could take another cock in her mouth too.”
“Ahah! That would be hot as hell, Omi-Omi.” Atsumu whimpered, smiling like a kid in a candy store as he slapped your butt, leaving a red mark.
“Cu-cumming…” they were barely able to catch your words thanks to Kiyoomi’s fingers in your mouth.
Every sound inside this room was lewd, Kiyoomi’s balls crashing against your skin, Atsumu’s hand slapping your butt, your moans mixed with theirs. Everything was just perfectly measured to send chills down your spine, and to make your reach probably one of the hardest orgasm you ever had.
Even after you came, Kiyoomi and Atsumu kept pushing inside of you, fucking you into overstimulation; you sobbed as your nails dig onto Atsumu’s arms.
“Fuck— Hey, ‘m not the only one fuckin’ ya here, why take it out on me?” Atsumu whined, taking his hand to rub your clit.
A scream escaped your lips as you squirmed on his arms “T-too much!”
“It’s okay.” Kiyoomi mumbled “I’m about to cum, and he’s probably there too.”
“I could go all day, just so ya know.” Atsumu said in a cocky tone, biting his lip.
“Well, the way you’re moaning like a bitch in heat tells me otherwise.” Kiyoomi groaned “I’m gonna cum.” he repeated, his thrusts becoming messy as he reached his own orgasm.
Kiyoomi came inside of you, giving one last thrust to make sure his cum was deep inside of you before he pulled out.
“Give me a s-second.” Atsumu whimpered, pushing deep inside of you as Kiyoomi slid his fingers inside of you.
“F-fuck! Fuck!” you moaned.
“Come on, one more.” Kiyoomi said, starting fucking you with his long fingers.
Atsumu’s thrusts and lips on your neck mixed with Kiyoomi’s fingers inside you were enough, and not even 10 seconds after Kiyoomi put his fingers inside of you, you were cumming again.
“Shit—” Atsumu moaned, cumming inside of you too “A-ah…”
It was as if time stopped for a few seconds, Atsumu pulled out of you and Kiyoomi pulled his fingers out, but you didn’t even feel it.
Their voices felt far from you for a few seconds before you were actually able to make up what they were saying.
“Yer with us?” Atsumu said, slowly rubbing your back.
“She’s fine.” Kiyoomi said, wiping away your tears with his thumb.
You opened your eyes to look at both of them “You two are monsters.”
Atsumu snickered “Hey, Omi, next time let’s bring a third guy, hm? Ya said she could definitely take another cock in her pretty mouth.”
Kiyoomi’s lips curled up. Now that wasn’t a bad idea.
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iruiji · 3 days
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SAGAU but Creator Reader has been tagging along with the Gourmet Supremos.
If you didn't know or have forgotten, Gourmet Supremos are one of those quest series that is randomized because some part of the questline can only be accessed with dailies (like Whispers in the Wind or Snezhnaya Does Not Believe in Tears or Garcia's Paean).
This questline spans from Inazuma up to Sumeru. I think there was 6-7 quests in total? I forgot. (it's 8).
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(These are Julie, Parvaneh and Xudong in order.) There are more characters that made a cameo in here but we'll just limit it with these three.
Context dropped, onto the short HCs.
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• Okay so, I didn't really read the whole story of this one so I'm just going to make some random HCs on the fly. I'm aiming for a goody-feel with this one so no heavy angst will be involved.
• Alright, so. Xudong is the leader of the Gourmet Supremos, and he only found you because when you land in Inazuma, you literally dropped into their camp and was about to steal a sausage from Julie's backpack (but there were so many ingredients there!!!)
• Xudong was fuming, lmao.
"THIEF!! SOMEONE, HELP!"
• Aight, geez, made you run a marathon there.
• The next time you've met, all three were together and they saw you roasting some lavender melon in some dilapidated tent you found while walking aimlessly. Hey, better than no shelter at all. For some unfathomable reason, your inventory only consists of food materials - with everything, and I mean everything, missing.
• God damn. It's like the heaven is telling you something. 🙄
• Anyways, yeah. So for some reason, the only access to the goddamn ingredients are locked, and you can't use it and you don't know when you would be able to use it, so you have to scrounge up whatever pitiful sources you can get.
• Sadly, it's mostly lavender melons.
• Like, you already made several dishes from this and it's really starting to grind on your gears, so you took a dive in one of the caverns and found some meat and was happily grilling it with the melons when the trio came out of nowhere.
"Thief!"
The hell. "I didn't get the sausage, though."
"But you still tried to!"
"I mean, I was dying of hunger, so.. you know."
Julie, bless her heart, gets in between you two. "It's fine, Xudong. They needed help, did they not?"
"But-"
This time, Parvaneh chimes in. "As they've told you, they didn't get anything, so let it go. And you." She points at you with calloused finger. "Who are you?"
That caught you off guard a little. Told them your name and, to Xudong's bewilderment, started chatting amicably with you. Some time later though, he softened a bit but still a little cautious. They traded cooking tips with you, and, to their utmost surprise, you exchanged many tips on cooking as well.
"How do you know all this?" Xudong asked as you finished explaining the difference between sauteing onion and garlic first.
"Oh. I'm uh, a professional chef back in our place. Been years though, so yeah." You replied as you took a bite of their chicken. "Holy shit, why is this so good?"
Julie and Parvaneh just smiled proudly.
• So like, you became a new addition to their team - but you actually specialize in desserts. Xudong has many a great views in cooking, as well as the two ladies, and together you journeyed the whole of Inazuma for rare ingredients and made some two or three journals that have been since published and loved by people. (The fangirling/fanboying is real when you saw Xiangling's message drooling about your own version of Tiramisu).
• One day, however, you lot came across a shrine - it doesn't look abandoned, oddly, but it looks really, really old. You asked them what's the deal with this one, and they explained about the Creator.
Oh.
You're in SAGAU?
Shit.
"People said they've come back, but we don't really know.."
Double shit.
• With that knowledge, you try and avoid the main cities as much as possible and only let the three buy on populated areas. Thank God they didn't really notice you suddenly covering half your face with a mask - which you only shrugged when asked.
"I like masks."
Fair enough, they suppose.
• ..oh fuck, is that Yae Miko?
"Ara, and who is this?"
Xudong, Julie and Parvaneh bows and you hastily followed.
"She is our new companion, Lady Miko."
"..yo."
She looks at you with an impish grin. "Oh?"
Dont act suspicious. Don't act suspicious.
Nice.
• Coming across the main characters from the game are very, VERY rare. You can actually count on one hand the characters you've met:
Yae Miko;
Thoma (he was going around asking for favors as usual and you bump into each other and only had quick apologies as interaction);
Kujou Sara (she was patrolling the area and asked about your mask - which you replied that it's part of your outfit. damn, her glare was fucking menacing!);
Kuki Shinobu (you were side to side buying groceries once), and lastly;
Kamisato Ayato (you actually didn't meet - you just saw him giving speech in a podium for some event you just came across).
• You figured, hey, maybe you're NOT the creator or whatever. And just tried to live normally after some time. The mask stayed though, because you just survived the pandemic back here and was cautious.
• About a year and six months with the team, Xudong suggested you come all to Sumeru to expand your knowledge. Holy shit, yes please!
• ..and then you met the Traveler on your way.
"Your Grace..?"
Triple shit.
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😭 sorry for disappearing for about a year - i was too lazy finishing anything. And now, I added another idea not to finish on the list 💀 wrote this whole thing in like 30 minutes motivation really is a wonderful thing, huh?
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carpkoinobori · 2 days
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[❣︎] good luck, babe — huh yunjin x reader
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[𖤐] 1/3 [please be aware this is all fiction! none of this is real and idols behavior is not accurately represented.]
song(s): good luck babe - chappel roan | runaway runaway - mars argo | casual - chappel roan |
summary: you’re dream was to debut with your best friend. what do you do when she doesn’t want to debut as your “friend” anymore?
pairing: idol!huh yunjin x soloist!fem!reader | slight idol!nakamura kazuha x soloist!fem!reader
tags: angst, eventual happy ending
wc: 2.7k
cw: mentions of dieting, internalized homophobia LITE, period-typical homophobia
ex: not beta read will do it later sorry 😞
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jennifer had been your best friend since highschool— or I guess you should say huh yunjin, now. you both met in your freshman year, and bonded over your love of music and dance. she was loud, extroverted, but not in an obnoxious way— she was like the sun, shining brightly, oozing charisma. She lit up a room, and it was all you could do to chase her warmth like a desperate, frost-bitten flower.
you were still extroverted, albeit enjoying time away from people. you weren’t popular, you were a bit more reserved, a bit more closed off, but relatively well liked for your humor and academic prowess. You had one or two close friends, one of them being yunjin.
it was the summer before 2019 when she told you she wanted to be an idol. You were sleeping over at her house, since your parents were fighting, again. you, who had no real plans after highschool, whose parents didn’t really care what became of their daughter— you smiled and held her hand. You’d follow the sun anywhere it went.
you both made it onto produce 48, jumping up and down, screaming and crying for just the pure joy of it. Alone, again, with her, you held her head in your hands, finally kneeling in front of each other on the hardwood floor, your foreheads touching as you both panted, giggling and smiling still. The moment quickly broke away when you heard the door open, breaking apart faster than you could blink. That’s when it all started, you could say. When you realized you might like your best friend.
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you were a rising star, praised for your smooth, detailed dance and soft, honey way of singing. You began to rank higher and higher, everyone loved you— everyone but your best friend. Everyone but who you wished would love you.
a part of you thinks if you weren’t going through your angsty teenaged romance, you wouldn’t have tried as hard to debut as you did. All your songs were about her, her hair, her voice, her eyes— everything about her. She was your reason to keep going. Maybe she deserved some credit, after all, you would never had been as popular if everyone wasn’t so curious to know who Korea’s new rising rookie was so in love with.
when yunjin was eliminated, it was the worst day of your life. The cameras caught you, with your hand over your mouth, frozen, tears falling down your face. You struggled to breath, but finally got up and ran to her. You didn’t even care if the cameras caught you, you didn’t care- you just needed her- your best friend- you needed her.
you cried for days. you tried not to bother anyone, muffling it with a pillow. you got so good at crying quietly, but everyday you’d wake up with puffy, red-rimmed eyes, and got told to cover them up. You tried to keep contact, but she “couldn’t handle the reminder,” right now, or so she said. Either way, there was a hundred messages you sent before you got that sharp reminder that you would never be anything more than a friend. maybe less, now. She was never yours. You were on borrowed time. the sun shares its warmth with the whole world, you were just naive enough to believe it was you who allowed it to be shared.
after that, Korea’s rising star fell back to earth. The pretty sunflower wilted, and broke apart. You were eliminated shortly after, and some people put two and two together. There was never enough proof for a scandal, but some people believed that you fell apart because that person you were writing about left, but they still weren’t sure who. God, they’re so dumb.
you continued to be a trainee, lying in wait.
you got called into a meeting. You had the opportunity to debut in a new group. Le Sserafim, they called it, an anagram for im fearless. A part of you laughed. you were never fearless. You were a coward. You couldn’t even tell her how much you loved her. You didn’t try to think about it, though. You hadn’t heard that name in years—
it was three years before you heard the name huh yunjin again. She was coming back, and she was going to debut. In the same group.
and like coming home after years of being lost. obviously, you were ecstatic.
all the starving, all the work, all the tears and pain and suffering— it was all for her. it’d all be worth it to feel her warmth again, to get your sun back, to end this constant winter.
You’d get to be her sunflower, again.
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The heat of August in Korea was in full force, and you were wearing nothing too impressive, just a Nirvana shirt you’d had for years and a pair of baggy jeans when you saw her. To be completely transparent, you had heard her before you saw her. You could never forget that laugh. You peeked your head from behind the wall, peering down the corridor. You practically ran to her.
You beamed, barely contained excitement buzzing around you. “JEN! You’re back! Oh my god, how are you? I missed y-” you were cut off. She smiled at you, but it didn’t look.. real. It look practiced. She didn’t smile at you like how she used to.
“I’m good, and yeah, it’s great to be back. Nice to see you again, y/n,” she nodded, before she continued walking with the staff member into a different room, farther down along the corridor.
What just happened? Did she.. not like you, anymore? Did she forget? Did she move on? What were you saying— there was nothing to move on from. Stress relief, she called it. Just a distraction. Casual, easy, quick. What were you thinking? No, really, what were you thinking? She had only dated guys all throughout high school, you were probably just her experiment, just something she tried out.
You decided to find out.
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You cornered her in a hallway. Not very classy, you know, but where else could you find her?
“Jen- is there a reason you stopped talking to me? I just- you probably know, we’re gonna debut together now, we need to.. work together. I just- I need to know. Did it mean nothing to you? You were my best friend,”
Yunjin looked vaguely uncomfortable, cringing towards the wall, looking to the side before she spoke. “Listen, y/n, we’re about to debut. I’m about to debut. I’ve been working on this for years, and so have you. Why would we throw it all away? We should focus on our debut, not whatever silly things we did when we were younger,” she shrugged, giving a practiced grin. “Besides, it was never serious, right? You know how I am, we both agreed we were just bored-“
“Bored? Because we were fucking bored? You’ve got to be kidding me, Jen. There’s no way you believe that- I fucking loved you-“
“Yeah, well, it’s over now. We’re debuting. Get it together,” she spat acidly, pushing past you and opening the door to the practice studio before looking over her shoulder. “I mean it, y/n. Just forget about it. It didn’t mean anything to me, and it shouldn’t have meant anything to you either,” she said icily, about to close the door. “Just call me Yunjin, now,” she muttered, door clicking shut behind her, leaving you a bitter, heart broken mess.
you didn’t follow. You figured she needed time alone- she didn’t need you, anymore. you wouldn’t have known how wrong she felt saying it, how it felt like ripping out her heart every time she watched your face break. It was for your own good, she thought. You didn’t need her ruining your chances. You both wanted this, right? To debut? That was the dream— she was doing you a favor.
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“I’m sorry, sir, but I don’t think I can debut in a group,” you said seriously, your hands clasped together. “I would rather be a soloist.. I’ve already written a few songs, I’ve planned the concept— you know how popular I was during Produce 48, right? I swear, just give me a shot-“ You pleaded, beginning to ramble before he cut you off.
“Y/n, you’re an excellent singer, and a well-rounded dancer. You’re an asset, to say the least. I never really wanted you in a group to begin with. I think you have a future as a soloist,” he smiled, nodding. “Sure, why not? Tell me your ideas,”
——————————————————————————————————
it all went from there. You were gonna debut. Either way, even if you were in a group- it wouldn’t be with your best friend, Jennifer. It’d be with Huh Yunjin, idol extraordinaire. You didn’t like her, much. You didn’t want to be her flower, or anyones, for that matter. Returning to the ground was a better choice. Sunflowers were always too bright for you anyway. You preferred white carnations, anyway.
You made your debut around the same time as Le Sserafim, and it was a smash hit. You released your debut album, LIMERENCE, with the title track ‘Good Luck, Babe!’ You were widely praised, forums discussing whether or not the song was about the same person you sang about in Produce 48. They were right, of course, but they’d never guess who. You were on a music show, getting your first win. The Le Sserafim members clapped, and you smiled graciously at them, your gaze lingering on Yunjin’s before you turned to the cameras, smiling, waving, holding the trophy before you were handed the mic for an encore. You smiled, readjusting the trophy in your arms before your voice began to ring out on the loud stage.
“I’m fine, it’s cool, you can say that we are nothing but you know the truth,” you began, glancing at Yunjin not-so-subtlely.
“and guess I’m the fool, with her arms out like an angel through the car sun roof,” memories of fooling around, joking, sneaking out your parents house to meet her, to meet Yunjin. “I don’t wanna call it off, but you don’t wanna call it love,” your voice grew in volume, periodically facing and waving at the cameras, before facing Yunjin once again. You really didn’t care if this was posted on forums, saying there was something going on saying you were rude, you didn’t care— you just needed her to know.
“You only wanna be the one that I call baby,” Yunjin tensed under your gaze, averting her eyes. Sakura and Chaewon looked at her knowingly, a bit disappointed. Kazuha and Eunchae looked a bit confused on why, exactly, you were staring at Yunjin like you wanted her to explode.
“You could kiss a hundred boys in bars, shoot another shot, try to stop the feeling. You could say it’s just the way you are, make a new excuse, another stupid reason,” memories of the seen texts, never responded to, flashed through Yunjin’s mind. That stupid argument a few months ago- was this about her? Who was she kidding, of course it was about her, y/n only loved her. She was secure, in that. She hated it though, she didn’t want to ruin your chances, you should move on from her— she wasn’t good for you, she never would be, you deserved better.
“Good luck, babe! Well, good luck, babe! You’d have to stop the world just to stop the feeling. Good luck, babe! Well good luck, babe! You’d have to stop the world just to stop the feeling,” you walked across the stage, staring into the cameras as you said this. You winked, giving a winning smile before continuing. “I’m cliche, who cares? It’s a sexually explicit kind of love affair,” another wink. “And I cry, it’s not fair,” you gave a theatric frown, pouting. “I just need a little lovin, I just need a little air,” You kept your gaze off Yunjin for the next few lyrics, acting as if you were now pleading to the crowd, the cameras, for love. Yunjin continued to watch nervously. Why weren’t you looking at her anymore? It started to sound as if you were really, actually over her.
“Think I’m gonna call it off, even if you call it love. I just wanna love someone who calls me baby-” you began again, gaze lingering on Kazuha, winking at her general direction, waving, and turning back to the cameras. You continued to sing, entertaining the crowd before beginning to look a little more bitter, a little more jaded, a little more angry. “When you wake up next to him in the middle of the night, with your head in your hands, you’re nothing more than his wife. And when you think about me, all of those years ago, you’re standing face to face with ‘I told you so’, you know I hate to say it, ‘I told you so,’ you know I hate to say, but- I told you so!” You cried, clutching the mic as you sang passionately, years of resentment, of confusion, of anger, of regret, pain- everything you had felt for Yunjin, everything you would feel. This is what this was for.
“You could kiss a hundred boys in bars, shoot another shot, try to stop the feeling, you can say it’s just the way you are, make a new excuse, another stupid reason,” you spat, making brief eye contact with Yunjin, hatred flashing in your eyes, a mask for the hurt to wear.
“Good luck, babe, well good luck, babe. You’d have to stop the world just to stop the feeling. Good luck, babe. Well good luck, babe! You’d have to stop the world just to stop the feeling,” you sang, crescendo falling, the song ending as the crowd cheered your name, and you finally walked off stage. You walked the building until you found an isolated part with little to no people. You leaned on the vending machine next to the water fountain, sighing. You told your manager you had to use the bathroom, but it was just an excuse to slip away.
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You looked up when you heard footsteps. It was the pretty Le Sserafim member you saw standing near Sakura. Kazuha, you think her name was? You’d have to double check.
“Oh, hello,” You smiled, bowing slightly.
“Ack- oh, hello! Congratulations on your win- I liked your song,” The Japanese girl bowed, clasping her hands together.
“Thank you, I quite liked your song as well,” You praised. “You’re very pretty,” you said, a slight grin on your face as the other girl blushed, spluttering with her words. “What’s your name?” “Kazuha- Nakamura Kazuha,” she responded quickly, stuttering. You figured she was Japanese from her name, and smiled warmly. “it’s nice to meet you, then. I’m Y/n,” You nodded, outstretching your hand, leaning in close to the flustered girl. She took it and you shook her hand, before hearing another set of footsteps.
you looked up to see Yunjin, who looked a tad angry. “Y/n. Congratulations on your win,” she said in a stilted, stiff tone.
“Thank you, Yunjin,” you replied back coolly, carefully practiced facade slipping back into place.
“I’ve got to get going now, Jen- oh, sorry, Yunjin,” You said mockingly, not using honorifics. There were no cameras to catch you here, anyway. You walked off, leaving a dumbfounded Kazuha and even angrier Yunjin.
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“…she’s really pretty-,” Kazuha began dreamily, clasping her hands together.
“No,” Yunjin said gruffly, beginning to walk back to the group with Kazuha. “Don’t even think about it, Kazuha! She’s mine,” Yunjin exclaimed childishly, warning Kazuha a bit loudly, causing Chaewon and Sakura to turn to her. “If that song was about you, Yunjin, then I think she might not be yours as much as you think,” Sakura said plainly, tone giving no room for argument as Yunjin averted her eyes, shame and embarrassment burning her face a light red.
‘This was going to be a long comeback period,’ Yunjin thought bitterly, groaning internally as she saw Kazuha begin to scroll though y/n’s Instagram posts as they waited for their manager’s car.
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ermmmm hello! I’ve never written for x reader before so I’ve only ever written in third person, bear with me here while I learn how to write this genre ><! this will be three-ish(?) parts. i don’t know who for sure y/n will end up with yet, but.. I will be posting backstories to this, as it was very yn-centric and we don’t get much of yunjins thoughts. Y/n seems delusional but I SWEAAAR she’s not. I’ll post some more works abt how they acted and stories from pd48 days… she’s not insane guys!
also white carnations symbolize pure love and GOOD LUCK. get it?GOOD LUCK. GOOD LUCK, BABE! I’m so funny.
i wrote this in like 3 hours of pure chappel roan good luck babe brain rot pleas forgive me. I’ll beta read it in a few hours after I sleep. thank you jihyoruri for letting me ramble in ur anons for so long 🙏also I love asks plssss send them. byebye now, have a good day! :3
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minkyungseokie · 2 days
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第二章 | Moving and Meeting the Boss
warnings; age gap love(R: 23, S:39, T: 50), gxg, throuple, controversial age gaps, random German and Scottish pet names, topics of eating that aren't ED related, but might be triggering to some, DeepL translated languages. Untranslated Chinese, French, and other languages
note; okay! second chapter is now ready. I might start another series based on driver x reader x wag. I sort of rushed through this. I also changed a couple of things
She now contracted meningitis during her F2 days and that was the reason for her leaving, but she told people it was the lack of funds
There has something to do with eating, but it's not an ED
The eating thing is based off of a very adorable mukbang YouTuber named Tzuyang. I also never been to Monaco, so Idk how everything works
Realized she should have a last name since she's Felix's sister
note2; please give me requests for moodboards, blurbs, smaus, or anything else you want for this series. Or just request anything as long as you read my rules and how to request thing
fc; imleslie(Y/n), xavier serrano(Aaron Antognelli), blanca soler(Chiara Lorenzi)
Come Talk to Me | Driven by Destiny Masterlist
Autosports Masterlist | Main Masterlist | Toto Masterlist
I do not give anyone permission to change, copy, or put my work on any other platform. It will only be on top, so if you see it, please report it. Or let me know.
DO NOT ask me to update this story. I'll update when I can.
Anyway, only accepting 10 more people to be tagged
Buckle up! This is a long one!!!!!!!!
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(My god, Susie is so fucking pretty that I might actually cry)
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In the now packed-up house, Y/n gazed around. "Are you all packed up?" Her brother asked as he crossed his arms next to her. Chan sighed, "I'm going to miss coming over to your house and hanging out," he said, looking around the house. With a soft smile that showed off her sharp teeth, Y/n looked at her brother, "He'll miss popping by my house during random times when the homeless orphans don't have work to do and mooching off me until he needs to go home to Korea." Y/n teased, pinching his freckled cheeks.
Chan giggled at Felix's expression and looked away, clearing his throat when Felix's glare turned to him. The long-haired male slapped his sister's hand away gently and tried to keep his scowl before giving up and breaking out into smiles as laughs filled the room. "For real though, I am going to miss you." Felix said, opening his arms for Y/n to enter, "Aw, I'm going to miss you too, but you can come visit me anytime you want in Monaco." Y/n offered, pulling back.
"You too, Channie. You and the rest of the derelict unparented are free to come visit me in Monaco when you want." Y/n said, opening her arms up to the shorter male. "Why does this feel like I'm sending my little sister off?" Chan asked, gladly accepting the hug that was offered, "You are basically family, mate." Felix assured, wrapping his arms around both his sister and his best friend. The group continued to hug until there was a loud honk heard in front of the house, "Well, I guess we should get this stuff into the truck." Y/n said, letting go of the two singers to grab one of the nearest boxes.
Y/n lugged the box to the truck where a mover stood, ready to grab the box from her hands and put it in the truck, "I'll take that, sir." The worker offered. Y/n froze and stared at the mover, "Excuse me?" Y/n asked, "Oh? Did I say something wrong?" The worker questioned, looking at Y/n with a raised eyebrow, "I am not a man. Please don't assume because I have masculine features." Y/n said, steeling her nerves. Y/n wasn't a confrontational person, but over the years, resentment had built up enough for her to tell someone off when they called her a man.
Her boobs were prominent enough for people to know that she wasn't a man and she was wearing a sports bra with flannel, how the hell did the man assume she was one as well? "I'm sorry, I didn't know--" "I think you did know, but it's whatever. Don't do it again." Y/n huffed, turning around and walking away.
Y/n entered the home again and grabbed a box aggressively, huffing dramatically. Felix and Chan shared looks before putting the boxes they had in their possession down, "Hey, what's wrong?" Chan questioned.
Y/n shook her head, taking deep breaths to calm herself down. She sometimes felt like it was irrational of her to get so upset by someone assuming she was a man, but at the same time, anyone would get upset by being called the wrong gender.
Y/n squared her shoulders and picked up another box before turning to look at the two with a smile, "It's nothing, mate. Just a bit of an annoyance." Y/n then turned and walked out with the box in her hands.
The trio made their way back and forth until all the boxes were in the truck. Now, they stood on the lawn watching as the movers grabbed the furniture and loaded it onto the truck, "Y'know, we're actually going to miss you." Chan spoke up, continuing to watch the movers work. "I know. That's why I said you're free to visit me in Monaco. I'll also try to visit you and in Seoul whenever I can." Y/n assured, throwing her arms around each of the boy's shoulders and giving them an awkward side hug.
"We know. We'll try to visit when we can too." Felix said, laying his head on her arm with Changbin following suit, "We're done, ma'am. We'll be taking this to the sea freight now unless there is something else you need." The mover looked at the tall half-Asian with a pointed look, asking if there was anything she needed or if were they good.
"You're good to go. Thank you." Y/n said, nodding at the mover. The trio watched as the movers packed up and drove away, "What time do you leave?" Felix asked after a few moments of silence, "Three o'clock in the morning. Seeing as my insomnia is so bad that I can't fall asleep, I'll probably be up and out by two. Do you mind dropping my keys off at the realtor office safe drop box? I won't be able to do it since I leave at three." Y/n said.
"Yeah, we can do that. We'll be dropping you off anyway." Chan nodded, shoving his hands into his pockets.
⋘ 𝑙𝑜𝑎𝑑𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑑𝑎𝑡𝑎... ⋙⋘ 𝑙𝑜𝑎𝑑𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑑𝑎𝑡𝑎... ⋙
"Yah, wake up. It's two." Felix hissed as if there were others in the house.
Y/n groaned and swatted Felix's hands away before turning onto her side and snuggling into the blankets, "Y/n, it's time to wake up." Chan said, joining Felix at the side of the hotel bed Y/n was sleeping in. The two put their hands on her and looked at each other, nodding before violently shaking Y/n back and forth.
"搞什么鬼?!" Y/n yelled in Chinese after being woken up so violently, turning to stare at her brothers with wide eyes, "Sorry, you wouldn't wake up, so we decided to shake you until you woke up." Chan snickered, signing as he spoke, looking away as Y/n glared at him and Felix. 
Y/n sighed and threw the blankets off of her body, "Jesus, dude. You could've kept trying to wake me up gently." The dark-haired woman scowled, reaching over to grab the external part of her cochlear implant and the hearing aid for her other ear. Felix grabbed the hearing aid and helped her put it into her ear, "When are you getting your other cochlear?" Felix questioned, making sure the volume was on the level Y/n always kept it on.
"I get the second implant after I start my new job. I'll have to tell the boss about it as soon I do the interview. Especially since I forgot to tell her about my lack of hearing." Y/n mumbled, looking at Chan and Felix from the side since she knew that they would be giving her judgy looks.
Y/n turned to see that they were indeed giving her disappointed looks as if she wasn't taller than Chan, older than Felix, and more intimidating than the both of them combined. "Stop looking at me like that! I was trying to get the application in as fast as I could. I simply just...forgot to put it on my application." Y/n explained, looking down and scratching her cheek. When she looked back up, they were still looking at her with disappointment, "Stop looking at me like you're my parents and I just got caught smoking a fat one....or something cause I wouldn't know how they would look at me." Y/n quickly added the second part and gave the two boys a awkward smile.
Felix and Chan sighed in unison, "Okay, well, I guess we can't really be that upset with you since you'll be telling her face-to-face. Get up and get ready. Felix picked out some clothes for you to wear." Chan said, pointing to the end of the bed where some clothes were laid out for her, Y/n sighed, running a hand through her thick hair, "Okay, whatever. Please move out of the way." 
Chan stepped back as Y/n swung her long legs over the side of the bed and planted her feet onto the floor, grabbing the clothes and studying them before going to the bathroom to get changed while Felix and Chan checked to make sure that everything was properly packed. Y/n exited the bathroom wearing a pair of high waisted brown trousers, a white collared button down with a brown, beige and white sweater vest one top.
Y/n sat down on the bed and picked up the socks that were sitting on the bed, putting them on while Felix and Chan continued to talk, "Y/n, do you want to get some McDonald's on the way or something?" Felix asked.
"I just want a coffee and a bagel honestly. We can get something from the bagel shop nearby. I heard they have some good bagels and coffee." Y/n suggested, putting on her boots and grabbing the glasses that were on the nightstand next to the bed. "I'm down." Chan said, looking to Felix, "I'm okay with that." The blonde shrugged, grabbing Y/n's suitcase and pulling it out into the hallway.
Y/n stood up and looked around, making sure that she had left nothing on the ground
⋘ 𝑙𝑜𝑎𝑑𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑑𝑎𝑡𝑎... ⋙⋘ 𝑙𝑜𝑎𝑑𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑑𝑎𝑡𝑎... ⋙
Y/n turned and looked at her brother as she got ready to board the plane, "Okay, so you'll call when you've landed in Monaco, right?" Felix inquired, holding her wrists lightly. Y/n rolled her eyes and chuckled, "I promise that I'll call you as soon as I get to my new home in Monaco. Don't worry about me. Just make sure that you take care of yourself. All of you." Y/n gave a pointed look at Chan.
"What? Why'd you look at me like that?" Chan chuckled nervously, "I'm telling you to take care of yourself. You tend not to do that." Y/n joked, looking him in the side. Chan jumped away as if he was shocked and held his side, "No promises, but I'll try."
"Flight 35 A is now boarding."
Y/n looked over at where people were beginning to line up, "Alright, it seems I've got to go." The girl pointed behind her with a thumb. Felix pulled his sister into a hug and laid his head on her shoulder, "You better call me when you land. I'll fly to Monaco myself if you don't." He said voice muffled into her sweater vest.
"Okay, let go. I have to board." Y/n groaned, pushing the blonde away from her playfully, "See you, Y/n." Chan said, giving the girl a quick hug. Y/n grabbed her carry-on and boarded the plane, "Make sure the other Stray Animals are around when I call. I want to talk to all of you." Y/n spoke.
After a long flight, of which she slept through most, she hopped off the flight feeling groggy and completely disoriented. To be quite honest, she just wanted to go to sleep in a bed with thick blankets and the fan blasting on her face so she didn't overheat while sleeping. The thing was, she wouldn't be able to meet up with the person who sold her the house until the next day because the offices were closed and her stuff wouldn't arrive until the next day either, so she had to get a hotel for the night.
Y/n groaned as she rolled her neck, attempting to massage the stiffness out of her shoulder and neck as she entered the Uber, "Uh, Hôtel Fairmont Monte Carlo, s'il vous plaît." Y/n spoke in a tired and dull tone.
The driver nodded and pulled off. Y/n pulled out her phone and pressed on the contact of the one person she knew would be up. It was 9:41 PM in Monaco, which meant it was 4:41 AM in Seoul currently and there was one person she could guarantee would be up at that time.
Chan.
Y/n pulled out a pair of headphones with a large-diameter ear cup that completely encloses her ear and audio processor and put them on. Y/n looked out the window while the phone rang, "Hey! You're in Monaco, I'm guessing." Chan said as his face popped up on the screen. "Yeah, I'm in an Uber right now. I'm heading to the hotel." Y/n mumbled, mouth stretching into a little yawn.
"Oh, yeah. Your stuff isn't there yet, is it?" Chan asked, looking at something off to the side, "No, it'll be arriving tomorrow afternoon. I'll be contacting Mrs. Wolff tomorrow as well to schedule the interview. The jet lag was going to be a bitch." Y/n sighed, leaning against the window. "Yeah, it is. What time is it there?" Chan questioned, "It's, uh, 9:43 PM." Y/n answered, dragging her eyes away from the fogged-up window to the face on her phone.
"Have you eaten?" Chan questioned, "No, not yet. Have you?" Y/n raised an eyebrow. "Yeah, I ate some ramen earlier. I'm just snacking on some honey butter chips right now." Chan responded, lifting the yellow bag to the screen.
Y/n opened her mouth to say something, but she was interrupted by the driver, "Madame, nous sommes arrivés à votre destination."
Y/n looked out the window and saw they were indeed in front of the luxury hotel, "D'accord, merci, monsieur. Je vous souhaite une excellente soirée. Sorry, Chan. I have to go. Tell Lixie and the others to text me when they can." Y/n said, exiting the car.
"Okay, I will. Have a good night." Chan said, "Have a good day, mate." Y/n said before hanging up. Y/n pocketed her phone and grabbed her items from the trunk. She waved at the driver in thanks and made her way into the hotel. It was a random one that she picked out and it was probably way too luxurious for a one-night stay, but it was the closest to where her new home would be and she was way too tired to find an even cheaper hotel.
She checked in and paid for the room, trudging up the stairs in a slumped-over position. As soon as she found her room, she stood up and unlocked it as if she was being followed by someone and had to enter quickly. Y/n threw the door open and closed, dropping her bags where she stood before making her way to the bed and getting in
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Y/n woke up the next day and immediately ordered an Uber. Her items would be arriving today and she already slept in pretty late. Y/n's dark brown eyes swept the room until they landed on the digital clock on the dresser. It was 2:52 PM. The truck with her stuff would be there around four and the realtor would be there around 3:00, so she had to get going pretty quickly. Luckily, her Uber was on its way and she would be at her new address in no time.
Honk!
Y/n's head snapped up once she had heard the honking of the horn. She could only assume that they were there for her and the chime from her phone telling her that her ride has arrived only confirmed her suspicion. Y/n quickly gathered her items and sped and walked out of the front of the building with her hand up in a wave to show that it was her who had ordered the Uber. Y/n pulled up the trunk after the driver had opened it from the inside of the car.
Y/n put her suitcase and carry-on bag into the trunk and closed it, rushing to get to the backseat and get into the car. "Bonjour, Monsieur. Monaco, La Condamine, 98000 Monaco, s'il vous plaît." Y/n said breathily, pulling her phone out of the bag she had and opening the notes app. Seeing as she would have to move all of her stuff in, of course with the help of the moving pros, and there were some other things she needed to do through the day, she decided that it would be a good idea to make a to-do list.
To do for today and tomorrow
Move my stuff into the house
Rearrange everything to my liking
Unpack everything
Go grocery shopping
Call Mrs. Wolff back
Y/n reread the list over and over to see if anything else came to mind, but when nothing did, she pocketed her phone again and stared out the window. Monaco was a truly gorgeous place and she could see herself living out the rest of her life in this beautiful country.
She could definitely see herself finding a man or woman, who would most definitely be an F1 fan seeing as the country basically lived and breathed F1, finding a much better home, settling down, and having a family.
It wasn't something she wanted anytime soon since she was still pretty young, but it was something she could see happening when she was ready.
Actually, now that Y/n thought about it, and as the car passed by the water, she doesn't think any house, which was actually one of those apartments where you have a whole floor to yourself, would be better than the one she got. It cost an arm and a leg to get and she would be able to afford it after she finally started the PA position.
The flat included three bedrooms, one bathroom, two shower rooms, one separate toilet and a kitchen. In total, it has four rooms. Two underground parking spaces provide space for any vehicles and a balcony that overlooked the water. It that high street, city center, bus station, and shopping center all within 500 m, so it was well situated.
Y/n sighed and closed her eyes. This was the start of her new life. While she was is Monaco, she was going to be a different person then what she was in Australia. Gone is the shy, antisocial, introverted girl that lived in Sydney and in is the girl who is still the same thing, but trying to be more confident.
"Pardonnez-moi, madame. Nous sommes arrivés." The driver announced, "Hm? Oh, merci beaucoup." Y/n thanked as she exited the car. She waited until the driver popped the trunk and then grabbed her things, "Merci encore, madame. J'espère que vous passerez une excellente soirée."
The driver gave Y/n a smile, "C'est très gentil de votre part. J'espère que vous passerez également une excellente soirée." She responded before driving off, giving Y/n a wave as she drove off.
"Miss Lee?" A voice with a thick accent called out from behind her. Y/n whirled around to face a tall man with dark, curly hair, a chisled jaw, and broad shoulders. It was the realtor, "Ah, Mr. Tomatis. How are you doing today?" Y/n greeted, looking to the side so she didn't make eye contact. "I am well. Listen, I would love to stay and talk with you, but I have an important showing to do, so here's your keys. Enjoy your new home." Mr. Tomatis gently place the keys into her hands before walking off.
"Oh-kay. Guess it's time to check out the new place in person." Y/n took a deep breath, trilling as she exhaled. The girl made her way into the building until she reached her floor. Y/n put the key into the door and unlocked it, "Home sweet home, I guess. Once I step through this door, my new life officially starts." Y/n mumbled, resting her forehead against the cool wood. Y/n opened the door and wheeled her suitcase in behind her, "Woah, this is sick!" Y/n awed, looking around her home.
She left the suitcase and carry-on near the entrance and walked around, looking through each room and mentally mapping what went into each room and how she would lay everything out.
Once she was done with her mental mapping, her hands fell to her sides and she looked around with a flat face and eyes dulled due to boredom.
She didn't know what to do now.
The truck wouldn't be there until four and it was only... Y/n looked down at the screen of her phone, which displayed the time in a large blue font...3:12.
Suddenly, an idea popped into Y/n's head. She had to schedule the interview and was advised to do so once she was settled down enough, but since she had time to waste, why not do it now? Y/n opened her contacts and pressed on Susie's, making sure it was on speaker, "Hello?" The sweet Irish voice that Y/n had heard last time, answered the phone.
"Uh, yes. It's Y/n Lee. I'm calling to set up my interview for the PA position." Y/n stammered, "Oh, Ms. Lee! I've been expecting your call back. I assume that means you're in Monaco?" Susie asked, "Yeah, uh, yes...ma'am." Y/n confirmed, nodding as of the woman on the other line could see her.
"Great, I know that you're going to need some time to settle down completely, so the interview will not be taking place any time this week. How about the next week around 10:00 AM? What day works for you?" Susie questioned, "I can do next week. How about Wednesday?" Y/n pulled out a pen and pad of paper to write down the date and time. "Wednesday works perfectly. Alright, I will e you then." Susie said.
"See you then." Y/n confirmed before pressing the 'end call' button. Just as Y/n put her phone on the counter, she got another call but this time from the company that had her stuff, telling her that they had arrived early and were ready to move her stuff in.
Y/n ran out the front door and down the stairs to see that they had indeed arrived earlier than planned and were already beginning to unload the lighter stuff, "Hey, I didn't expect you to be so early. Please, follow me and I'll show you where my apartment is." Y/n said, grabbing a box and leading the way to her floor.
After showing the movers where she was, Y/n went back down to grab another, but before she could make it too far, someone stopped her. "Hey, I couldn't help but notice you're moving in. Do you want some help?" A tall slender man with dark hair and dark eyes. The man in front of her was the very definition of tall, dark, and handsome and Y/n was the definition of awkward around pretty people.
Y/n opened her mouth to decline, probably stutter through the sentence before falling too embarrassed to continue speaking, when another voice spoke up. "Babe, what are you doing? Who's this?" A woman who absolutely gorgeous saddeled herself next to the man, looking up at Y/n with a raised, perfectly sculpted, eyebrow. "I-uh..." Y/n's eyes darted around frantically, trying to find any way out of the situation.
She knew she said she was going to be a totally different person than she was in Australia, but she had the worst night of sleep where her body got too hot with the blankets, too cold with the fan, and still too hot with both. She also kept waking up randomly during the night, feeling dizzy and disoriented. She also may be up and doing things, but she was severely jet lagged and wanted to do nothing, but drop dead on the floor and sleep until she could physically no longer sleep.
Y/n was going to be quite honest, she could use the help and it would make things go a lot faster, but how was she, a socially awkward person, to talk to two very pretty people? 
Answer; she didn't.
She walked past them with a quick 'excuse me' pretending like she didn't hear them. If they got upset with her, she'll just say her hearing aids weren't on or turned up enough for her to hear that they were speaking to her. "Wait! Ma'am, hold on." The man called out, following Y/n outside and grabbing her wrist gently, stopping her in her tracks. Y/n steeled herself and whirled around with a fake smile, "Oh, sorry. Can I, uh, can I help you?" Y/n asked, eyes darting between the man, who was giving her a smile, and the woman, who was scowling at her with her arms crossed.
"Yes, you can help us. My boyfriend asked you a question and you just walked past us as if you didn't hear. Are you deaf or something?" The girl sneered.
"Yes."
"Pa-pardon?" The girl asked, dropping her arms, Y/n turned her head to the side, showing the couple her cochlear and the the hearing aid, "I-I am in fact...deaf." Y/n muttered, turning to go get more boxes. Behind her she could hear the flustered man scolding his girlfriend while she stammered out flustered responses, 
"How could you-?!"
 "I..I didn't know, okay? Hop off my balls."
"Woman, what balls would I be hopping off of?"
"I... You... Just shut up! We should be helping anyway."
The two stopped their flustered play fighting as Y/n walked past. They both grabbed boxes and followed her, "Hey, we are so sorry." The man spoke up, speed walking so he was next to Y/n, "Especially me. I didn't know you were actually deaf and even if you weren't, I wasn't being the nicest. It's just, and this isn't an excuse, there have been some... how do I say this?" The girl asked, looking up.
"Issues." The man supplied, the woman snapped her fingers and pointed at her boyfriend before quickly putting her hand back under the box as it began to tip over in her hands, "Issues. We have had some issues with our last neighbours and it made me sort of defensive. Sorry about that. My name Chiara Lorenzi and this is my boyfriend..." Chiara trailed off so that he could speak for himself.
"Aaron Antognelli. And you are?" Aaron asked, depositing the box on the floor of Y/n's apartment, "Y/n Lee." Y/n answered. "It's nice to meet you, Y/n. I hope we get to become very good friends in the near future." Chiara said, nudging the taller girl as she and Aaron walked out to grab more boxes.
With the extra two sets of hands, Y/n and the movers were able to get everything inside quickly and it was a good thing too since the sky began to dark with thick rain clouds. "Um, thank you for your help." Y/n muttered, going into her house and beginning to close the door when a hand appeared between the door and the frame, keeping her from closing it fully, "Hold on there, kangaroo. Don't you want help unpacking?" Aaron asked.
"Oh, no. I couldn't ask for that. You have done quite a bit a-and I don't know you well enough." Y/n frantically shook her head. The couple shared a look before turning back to Y/n, "Please, we... I insist. We want to make up for the rocky way we greeted you. Of course, we won't force you to and if you don't want us to help you, we'll leave." Chiara said.
Y/n sighed and nodded, opening the door fully to let the couple in. She didn't know them or trust them, but she also needed all the help she could get. That, and she was shit at decorating, so it would be nice to enlist the help of someone else.
Chiara and Aaron looked around, "Why does your apartment look so much better than ours?" Aaron asked, "I thought they were all the same." Y/n said, looking at her spacious place. "Nah, yours has much more space, but it could be the fact that you're living alone that makes it seem that way." Aaron shrugged.
Chiara whirled around and clapped her hands together, "Alright, let's get this done."
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With a yelp, Y/n fell out of her bed as the alarm she had set on her phone blared in her ear that contained the hearing aid. She had so much fun with Aaron and Chiara the previous night that she ended up going to be later than she usually liked to whenever she had something important to do the next day. After the day they helped her unpack, the two quickly became friends Y/n and they had been hanging out with each other ever since.
Y/n groaned and hobbled over to a cabinet near her bed where she kept her medicine, "Shit, getting drunk the day before my interview was not smart." Y/n grumbled, opening a bottle of pills and a bottle of water from her mini fridge.
Y/n gathered her clothing and put it on the end of the bed then went and took a scalding hot shower that helped her sober up. Y/n gave a quiet groan as she messaged her shoulders, "Man, my shoulders are stiff." She complained.
Stepping out of the shower, Y/n put on her outfit, which consisted of wool wide-leg pants, a skims t-shirt bodysuit, a nocturne cropped jacket, and a pair of heeled patchwork boots. Looking in the mirror, Y/n narrowed her eyes, "Hmm, wait." Y/n looked around to the clothes she had thrown everywhere when looking for a good outfit.
Her room was covered in an explosion of beige, brown, white, and black. There was not a lick of color in any of her wardrobe, save for her shoes, which were still not brightly colored, so they still fit her aesthetic. "I need to add some color to my wardrobe." Y/n muttered, before grabbing her things and making her way down to where the Uber was waiting for her.
She gave the driver the address of a café that Susie had suggested, Café de Paris, and  off they went. Y/n's heart thudded so hard in her chest that she was pretty sure that the beat was coming from her stomach rather than her chest. Y/n ran a hand through her long, messy hair and tried to calm the nervous feeling in her stomach.
The driver looked at Y/n through the rear mirror and cleared his throat, "Nerveux? Vous avez un rendez-vous ou une raison de vous énerver?" He asked, causing Y/n to jump from the sudden addressing. "Euh, oui. J'ai un entretien très important. J'ai déjà obtenu le poste, mais je suis encore nerveux." Y/n answered shakily, wringing her hands together nervously.
The driver studied Y/n through the mirror before turning his eyes back to the road, "Eh, don't be nervous. It must be just a 'get to know you' interview." The driver said, switching to English and waving a hand to the side as if he was brushing Y/n's nervousness away.
"You're right. Merci, Monsieur." Y/n sighed, leaning back against the headrest. The rest of the car ride was spent in silence.
⋘ 𝑙𝑜𝑎𝑑𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑑𝑎𝑡𝑎... ⋙⋘ 𝑙𝑜𝑎𝑑𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑑𝑎𝑡𝑎... ⋙
Susie sat at a table in Café de Paris, occasionally looking at her watch as she waited for Y/n to arrive. Admittedly, she had arrived a bit too early, but she was excited. She had been looking forward to finally starting the F1 academy and with Y/n working by her side, she'd make these girls into Formula One champions.
Susie continued looking out the window for Y/n, even though she has no idea what Y/n looked like at all. Y/n walked through the door and approached Susie from behind, "Mrs. Wolff?" Y/n spoke up, causing the blonde woman to jump up. As soon as they were face-to-face, both women froze.
Now, Y/n was open about her sexuality and what she liked, but Susie wasn't. Susie had never been interested in women and she wasn't one who would ever fall in love when she already had a husband and a beautiful son, but Susie's heart raced looking at the younger woman and she couldn't understand why. Susie had no problem admitting when another woman is beautiful and the one in front of her? Well, she was drop dead gorgeous in Susie's eyes.
"Ah, Ms. Lee. You startled me." Susie chuckled, putting a hand on her chest to calm her racing heart. Whether it was racing because of Y/n's beauty or because she genuinely got startled, she didn't know. Either way, the woman in front of her made her heart race. "My apologies, Mrs. Wolff. I didn't mean to scare you." Y/n apologized, giving the older woman a shallow bow instinctively.
"Shall we sit and begin?" Susie asked, gesturing to the chair. Y/n nodded and sat down across from the older woman. "Okay, remember that you already have the job. This is just to get to know you a bit more. Do you want to order something or do you just want to start?" Susie questioned.
"I would like to order something." Y/n muttered, Susie gestured to someone and a waiter came over, "Are you ladies ready to order?" The waiter asked politely. "Yes, I would like a chocolate chaud and panna cotta parfumeé au citron." Susie told the waiter who wrote it down before turning to Y/n, "I would like Le Chou Profiterole and the Irish coffee. Please." Y/n said.
Once the waiter finished writing down their orders and left, Susie turned back to Y/n with a smile that made Y/n want to throw herself off a cliff. She was so pretty and Y/n didn't think Susie knew just how gorgeous she was.
"Okay, let's start while we're waiting for our orders. Can you tell me about yourself?" Susie questioned, "Oh okay, um... I'm Y/n Lee, I am half Chinese and Half Australian, I am 23 years old, I want to do modeling in my spare time, I like surfing and skiing, and I used to be a Formula Two driver before I contracted meningitis and had to stop." Y/n replied.
"You contracted meningitis?" Susie asked, "I did. I lost hearing in my right ear," Y/n turned her head and moved her hair, showing her cochlear, "I had to get a cochlear for my right ear and I have a hearing aid in my left because I'm losing my hearing in that ear. After I got my surgery, I just decided not to continue driving even though I would love to continue." Y/n shrugged.
Susie nodded, "If you had the chance, would you try and continue to drive in F2?" Susie questioned. Y/n sighed and looked around the café, "I honestly never thought about it. I wanted to but I didn't have enough money to continue, so I thought that my chances were over. If I had the chance to do it again, I don't know if I would take it. I'm turning 23 soon and I fell like I'm getting too old." Y/n said, looking up as the waiter arrived with their stuff.
"Thank you/Merci." Susie and Y/n said simultaneously. Y/n brought the glass mug up to her lips and took a sip of the drink. Y/n put the mug down and looked at Susie again, "What are your goals for the next five years?" Susie asked.
"Hmm, I think I still see myself working in the motorsports world or perhaps attempting to further my modeling career. Or both." Y/n answered, picking up one of the cream puff and taking a bite, refraining from making any sort of noise. 
"Do you consider yourself a passionate person when it comes to this sport?" Susie inquired, Y/n nodded as she swallowed the pastry in her mouth, "I was..am...Before I got meningitis, I was obsessed with being a Formula One driver. I was about as passionate about it like most of the guys on the grid. It was my passion." Y/n explained.
Susie nodded and sat back in her chair, "That'll be all." She said, picking up her spoon and eating some of her panna cotta parfumeé au citron. Y/n paused halfway from the plate where she was reaching for another mini creampuff, "That's all?" She asked, "That's all." Susie reiterated 
"Okay." Y/n nodded. She was honestly so unsure as to why she needed to do the interview when she was only going to be asked about four questions, "Now, let's get to know each other since we're going to be working closely together. My name is Suzanne Wolff, but you can call me Susie. I am Scottish, 39 years old, I have a wonderful husband who is the team principal of Mercedes-AMG PETRONAS Formula One team, and I have a gorgeous fiver-year-old son named Jack." Susie introduced herself.
The woman held out a hand for Y/n to shake, "It's wonderful to meet you, Mrs. Wolff. I look forward to working with you." Y/n said, grabbing the older woman's hand and shaking it firmly. Susie waved off her formalities, "Oh, please. Call me Susie. We'll be working close together, so we might as well drop the formalities." She chuckled.
The two women continued to talk about random topics, getting to know each other more and more. The two became quick friends and even made plans to hang outside of work sometime in the future and even talked about Y/n meeting her son and husband since she would have to meet them eventually.
By the time Y/n was in her Uber and on her way home, it was well into the afternoon and Y/n had a small permanent smile on her face as she thought about the older woman.
Y/n hated to admit it, but she tended to catch feelings for people quite easily. She didn't and never would believe in love at first sight, but she did believe that one can get to know someone well enough to gain some sort of feelings for someone. 
And Y/n could tell that the bubbling feeling in her stomach was her feeling giddy and anxious. She was beginning to feel something for the older married woman, but she brushed it off. It was just a small puppy crush, and even if it wasn't, nothing would ever come of it. Susie was a heterosexual married woman with a family and if there was one thing Y/n could never be, it was a homewrecker.
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 Susie entered her home happily. Her husband and son greeting her at the entrance, "Hello, liebling. How was the interview? I can assume it went well since you're smiling from ear to ear." Toto said, kissing his wife on the forehead. "She's perfect, Toto. She is everything I wanted and more in a personal assistant. Not to mention she's absolutely gorgeous. If she were to go to a GP, people would assume she is some sort of supermodel WAG." Susie said absentmindedly.
Toto gave his wife an odd look as she bent down to greet their five-year-old. His wife was what some people would call a girl's girl and she definitely has complimented other women before, but the way she had talked about the woman she had met with made him feel curious. She had never sounded so infatuated with anyone other than him and Jack.
Of course, Toto knew that his wife was not going to cheat on him and especially not with another woman, but there was just a feeling in his gut that said there was something more than just a regular excitement to be getting the F1 Academy project off the ground. 
"Yeah? Is that right?" Toto asked, "Yes. She used to be a F2 driver too, so she is the most perfect candidate for the job. I think you and Jackie would lover her." Susie said, kissing the top of Jack's head and carrying him into the kitchen.
Toto shook his head as he chuckled. He didn't know what the woman was like, but she must have been super amazing because she left such an impression on his wife that she was positively gushing about the new PA.
By the time Susie stopped talking about the new PA, Toto himself couldn't wait to meet her and he was now sharing the excitement that she was practically projecting off her in waves.
This was the start of something new and both Wolff's could tell.
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↳ ❝ [Taglist] ¡!❞
@exotic-iris13 @alliwantisadonut @evie-119 @xoscar03 @cheyxfu @laur2608 @sunnylikesfrogs @goldenmoonbeam @victorharrington @only-nope
Unable to tag all of you
This one was over 6k words. I felt like I needed to give you guys this since I had been away for so long.
DO NOT ask me to update this story. I'll update when I can.
Anyway, only accepting 9 more people to be tagged
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nyoomiin · 2 days
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roommates: part eleven.
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your new roommate is... odd, and recently, so are your dreams. still, despite the secrecy, the mystery, and his ice cold exterior, you have the feeling you'd waltz right into love with him. (maybe you already have before.)
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pairing. scaramouche x gn!reader
tags. no warnings, slice of life, fluff, slowburn, friends to lovers, reincarnation au, post irminsul erasure
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prev. masterlist. next.
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“Can't even look me in the face?” Kunikuzushi sneers. It's biting, that tone. “This is getting ridiculous.”
He stands between you and the hallway, preventing you from rushing into your room the moment you return home — a habit you had picked up on recently. It's shameful, you know. You really wish you talked it out with him earlier, but you had avoided him on pure instinct the first time you saw him and just couldn't stop.
A muttered excuse tumbles out of your lips, but it trails off, and you're left staring at him like a fool.
“I'm sorry,” you say softly, hesitantly meeting his gaze.
His arms are crossed, his brows drawn. He looks more hurt than the furious he portrays himself to be. His next words are said with stormy eyes and through gritted teeth. “I never pegged you down as the cowardly type.”
It stings, but he’s right, even if he was being rather harsh about it. You couldn't run away from it forever.
He sighs, letting his arms fall, and you watch as he brushes past you, heading for the door. Then, he pauses, turning to look at you.
“Come on,” he tells you impatiently, head cocked to the side. “What are you waiting for? I know a quiet place to talk.”
He spares you not a glance as you walk, always a step ahead as he leads you along the way. You follow him curiously, out of the city, up and down the winding paths of the forest, on a cobblestone path that turns to soil and then grass.
Crisp breeze tousles his hair, his cape flowing behind him, and starlight dusts his figure a shimmering glow. For all that it is worth, you think he looks simply angelic.
“We’re almost there,” he says, interrupting the silence.
We better be, you huff. You've been walking for ages now, and you've certainly had enough time to think over what you’d say to him.
You reach a cliff's edge, overlooking the city and the endless twilight beyond. Damn, you think. It's been a while since you've been this far out.
He sits before you do, legs dangling in the air, chin tilted up towards the skies. You lie on the grass instead, head propped up by an arm. You try not to think about how one wrong move would send you tumbling all the way down.
You tell yourself Kuni would catch you if you did.
For a second, everything is still. His eyes flutter shut, and you watch as he relaxes, as if letting something fall away. For a second, you can pretend that nothing has happened, that nothing has changed, and that you were just a dressmaker and he was just your roommate. And for a second, you entertain a ridiculous thought. You wish that you could stay in this moment forevermore.
You can't, you think. For you still had a lifetime to live.
“Will you start from the beginning?” you ask him softly.
His eyes flicker open, turning to face you almost lazily. He has a way of turning fear into confidence, you learn. He huffs. “As if you don't know the story of my creation.”
You pout. “But I want to hear it again. Pretty please?”
He relents with a sigh, and you cheer.
… It gets dark really, really fast.
“Dottore, that lunatic… He spins a ludicrous tale of how Niwa had killed you for your heart, then fled out of guilt.” Kuni's tone drips with derision, and you can tell part of that derision is directed at himself.
You shift closer to him, frowning faintly. “You couldn't have known.”
He scoffs, and to that, he says nothing.
“Ashes,” he murmurs, gaze a thousand miles away. “There was nothing left but ashes.”
You gasp, letting out a soft cry. Poor kid. Poor Kunikuzushi. Did he never get a break?
The night draws colder as you learn about the centuries Kuni — now named Scaramouche, had lived. Your eyes burn with stifled tears as you can only imagine how someone so pure was lost to time, devoured by wrath and woe, bitterness and venom.
“You should have seen me then,” he tells you, a wry smile spread across his face. “You would have hated it.”
You shake your head in protest. “I wouldn't have. Well, I mean… I would've stayed by your side, at least.”
Surely that counted for something?
“Don’t make me laugh. Someone like you could never survive an organisation like the Fatui,” he retorts. Somehow, you have the feeling he doesn’t mean it in a bad way. “You would have stayed, even if ‘Kunikuzushi’ was no more? Even if you are hurt endlessly?”
His eyes are electrifying, challenging. His face is set in the way he expects you to laugh and take back your words, in the way he expects you to say you'd leave after all. You scowl right back, resolve firm.
“Even then.”
He lets out a sharp breath of a laugh.
“I reached out for the Gnosis,” he says, and there's something tight in his tone, strained with a certain kind of grief. “Then, I fell.”
You gape. Utterly flabbergasted. What. The. Fuck.
“And you — I — How are you not dead…?”
“Don't be stupid,” he harrumphs, as if he had not fallen from twenty meters in the air. As if he had not hit the ground, as if he had not been scared and frantic and desperate. “I would never be so pathetic as to die from something like that.”
Studying him silently, you sigh, brows drawn with worry. He lies on the ground next to you after he had gotten sick of looking down at you, and he's so close you can hear every breath he takes. He had survived, that you know. How else would he be here before you, alive and well?
Still…
“Did it hurt?”
He shrugs nonchalantly. “Only for a second.”
You roll over closer to him, and he doesn't seem to mind when you squish against his side. “So, I've been curious,” you say. “Why were you so agitated that day? Y'know, the last day I saw you before I…”
His nose scrunches.
“Oh, then?” he laughs. It is a rather hollow laugh. “Vermin who didn’t know their place decided to cause a ruckus, is all.”
You sigh, letting both the matter and your head drop. It’s obvious he will not elaborate on it further. Maybe he’ll tell you another day.
He ends his tale rather anti-climatically, brushing off his entire life as if it were simply a pain to deal with. You remain silent, apprehensive and contemplative. You had lived a whole different life, and a whole different timeline had come and gone and now, you were one of the only people in the world that remembered it still.
He takes your silence the wrong way. Looking terribly unamused, he smirks, cocking his head. “Well, what will you do now? Maybe if you beg, that meddlesome god will wipe your memories for you once more.”
“Archons, who do you think I am? If anything, this means you’re stuck with me now,” you tell him snootily, smacking his head.
It’s kind of poetic, isn’t it? That not even death could do you part? You had liked him then and you liked him now, and there’s a small part of you that thinks you would have liked him even when he was stained with hell. Perhaps one day, this like would turn into love as well.
Whatever the case, and in one way or another, he was yours now.
“You’re a moron,” he scoffs, lips quirked up into a half-smile.
You grin. “And you’re a bitch.”
(“‘m sorry I was avoiding you,” you murmur drowsily, “I didn’ mean to…”
He glances at you just as your head lolls against his side, fast asleep. His useless heart has the gall to stutter.
The both of you had talked until day breaks, and it is when the horizon is painted pink that your fatigue catches up with you. How weak, he muses, resisting the urge to poke at your cheek. To think mortals needed something as redundant as sleep.
You’d have to continue your conversation another day, then, seeing as how you were in no shape to do so now. There were still many things he had to discuss with you.
Standing, he dusts himself off, ready to head home. He looks down at you. A beat passes. Then, he huffs, lugging you onto his back.
“Don’t get the wrong idea,” he mutters under his breath. Humans were weak, especially someone like you. You’d certainly fall ill if he were to leave you alone, out in the open like this. Maybe even deathly ill. “You can’t pay your half of the rent if you’re dead.”
So, you’d owe him for this. Hmph.)
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taglist. (send an ask to be added.)
@franaby @dragontammerz @ainnofinway @sketcheeee @briluvspnk @bunniicantsleep @featuredtofu @tragedy-of-commons @parkjayssi @xiaosantenna @idontevenknow129 @bfajax @mostlymoth @thenyxsky @kiyiiaarchived @skyvella @theautisticduck @someonealreadyhadmynickname @wanderersumbrella @im-just-here-for-the-coffee
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We Must Know, How Did it End?
“It was tricky, really. Writing songs that come from a place of pain isn’t usually my thing,” Sirius says, plastering a polite smile onto his face. “It’s difficult to describe a feeling that’s so… overwhelming.” 
Peter smiles back, and Sirius can see the empathy etched across his face. 
“Okay, I think we have time for some audience questions,” Pete says, turning to the audience. Sirius follows his gaze to a crew member handing a mic over to a young woman. 
“Hi, uh, hi. I was just wondering if your album is based on your recent breakup? With Remus?” 
His name alone makes the blood freeze in Sirius’ veins. The fan isn’t wrong, his album is essentially all about Remus. It doesn’t stop his heart from stuttering at the mention of Remus. It brings memories that he’s been trying to write out of his system back to the front of his mind. They bring a lump into his throat, and he has to blink harshly to fight back any semblance of a visceral reaction. 
Thankfully, Peter steps in. 
“You know what? Let’s move on. Anyone else?” 
In spite of a few grumblings, the microphone travels further, landing with another fan. 
“Hey. I was just wondering if you ever think that Remus dated you for the fame? I mean, his follower count has doubled since you two-” 
“No, I don’t think that,” Sirius cuts in sharply. Apparently, his need to defend Remus is stronger than his hurt at their breakup. Peter is opening his mouth to speak, probably to move on again, but Sirius isn’t ready to move on. “Of course I don’t think that. Remus’ talent speaks for itself. He doesn’t need me to be his way to break out in the dance world. We might not be together anymore, but that doesn’t change the fact that he is still one of the most genuine people I have ever met. Honestly, his kindness is indescribable. Everything I said while we were together was true. That relationship was the realest thing I’ve ever had, okay? Us breaking up doesn’t diminish that.” 
The whole studio has lapsed into silence, and Sirius is really regretting the way he went about that now. Even Peter’s watching him in shock. Eventually, he seems to remember his own job, clearing his throat and breaking out into a smile. 
“Okay! It’s about time for us to move on…” 
Sirius is pretty sure that he’s been in a trance for the past hour. He doesn’t even remember the trip back to his house. All he knows is that he’s been scrolling through his tagged posts as his manager, Benjy, shouts at him over the phone. 
“This is, without a doubt, the most irresponsible thing you’ve ever done!” 
“I didn’t think it was that bad,” Sirius grumbles under his breath. Unfortunately, Benjy has the ears of a fucking hawk. 
“If you weren’t a public figure, and I wasn’t your fucking PR Manager, I would think it was sweet, Sirius! However, calling your relationship with Remus the realest thing you’ve ever had?! That gives tabloids every opportunity under the sun to call you obsessive!”
“Yeah, well, it needed to be said,” Sirius says decisively. He’s not wrong. In what world could anyone ever see Remus as anything less than kind? Yeah, they haven’t seen the way Remus would hold Sirius through his panic attacks, say the dumbest things just to watch him smile, or the dance. The one Remus dedicated to him. The one Sirius really should delete from his camera roll. 
“God, Sirius, you’re so lucky that I actually like you.” Benjy interrupts his train of thought, thankfully, letting out a groan as Sirius refreshes Instagram for the fifteenth time. “However, now you need to lay low until people forget that this happened.” 
“What? That I defended him? Just because he’s my ex doesn’t mean I’m not allowed to say anything nice about him!” 
“Yes it does. You can’t say anything too bad, or anything too nice. You have to be neutral. Peter was about to gloss past the question, anyway!” Sirius rolls his eyes, grateful that Benjy can’t see him as he goes scrolling again. He’s being called obsessive in countless different ways by news outlets, people who hate him, and people who have decided that his and Remus’ breakup means that it’s time to take sides. As he looks through them, he’s barely even pausing. 
Until he reaches a post with Remus’ face at the front of it. 
As much as he knows that he shouldn’t, he wants to watch it. He’s spent a lot of time watching the videos he promised James that he’d deleted and crying, but those were videos Sirius had filmed himself. They were personal. He hasn’t interacted with anything that Remus has posted publicly. He doesn’t actually want to be a stalker. 
This feels… different. Mostly because this one has his name on it. 
‘REMUS LUPIN BREAKS SILENCE ABOUT EX BOYFRIEND SIRIUS BLACK:’ 
“Yeah, okay, Benjy, I’ll stay silent,” Sirius says quickly, zoning out. 
“Oh, really? Thanks. That was easy-” 
“Okay, bye.” He hangs up before Benjy can say anything else, immediately playing the video. 
It’s from one of Remus’ livestreams. His face is flushed a slight red, like it usually is after rehearsal, sitting on the floor in his studio. Sirius hates how endearing he finds it. He’s just talking, comments rolling in and the radio playing, when Sirius catches the message. It’s just another one calling him a stalker, but it stops Remus in his tracks. 
“Right, you all need to leave Sirius alone,” Remus says decisively. The way his name sits in Sirius’ mouth brings a lump into his throat all over again. He really needs to stop crying over Remus, it’s getting a little sad. Maybe he is obsessive. “He isn’t stalking me. I actually haven’t spoken to him at all. Listen, the- the breakup was amicable, okay? We don’t hate each other, and we really don’t need people taking sides. All he did was defend me, which he didn’t have to do. It was nice of him, yeah, but it doesn’t make him obsessive. He’s just being a good person, he can’t help that.” Sirius smiles to himself, face warming at the compliment. 
Okay, he is obsessed. 
Still, it’s so unbelievably Remus to be so willing to defend him. To immediately assume the best about Sirius. 
Just when Sirius expects the clip to end, a different song starts playing. He recognises it straight away. It’s one from his new album. 
‘ I told the moon about you… ’ 
Remus’ eyes widen at the words. At Sirius ’ words. He never has been any good at hiding the first thought that flits across his face. 
“Sorry, I’m, er… I’ve got to go. Thanks for- for watching, yeah,” Remus says hurriedly. 
That’s when the clip ends. 
For what feels like the thousandth time, Sirius wants to be in the same room as Remus, to have the privilege of finding out exactly what is going on in his head. He wants to press his thumb against the furrow in Remus’ brow and watch his face relax. Christ, he just wants to touch him, really. His forehead, his hand, his shoulders, his waist, anywhere . With a groan, he drops his head into his hands. He’s actually pathetic. James is the only one who’s allowed to hear about this, and Sirius is pretty sure he needs a stern talking to from him right about now. 
There’s a knock at his front door, which Sirius assumes is James. It’s like the man can read his mind. The knocking is a little… frantic, but James is bouncy, it’s not exactly out of the ordinary. 
He walks slowly over to the door, reaching out and pulling it open. 
The moment he catches a glimpse of the familiar amber eyes, every muscle in Sirius’ body freezes. 
Remus. 
He hasn’t seen him in three months. Not since he left Sirius’ house, got on a plane, and didn’t come back. Sirius has spent a countless number of minutes trying to recall every single detail about Remus, looking at photos of the two of them, wishing that he had spent more time etching every line, every freckle, into his brain. He thought he had, really, but he was right in his interview. Remus is indescribable. 
For a moment, they just look at each other, Remus’ mouth slightly ajar as though he hadn’t expected Sirius to open the door. He almost seems like he doesn’t know how he got there. 
Well, until Sirius speaks. 
“M- Remus? What- what are you…?” He trails off, watching the way Remus’ features set to something much more sure. 
“Sirius, I love you,” he says suddenly. They’re words Sirius never expected to hear coming from Remus again. “I’m still in love with you, and I’m tired of pretending that I haven’t regretted every single step that I’ve taken since I left here. I- God, Sirius, I think we made a mistake. I- I know what we said, what we agreed on. It was too difficult with our schedules, we were both being too distant, fighting over little things,” he lists everything like it’s pointless, as Sirius tries to get his brain to fucking wake up and work. “And I get it, Sirius. I really do get it, I understand, but I’d take thousands of fights over- over dishes, or hogging blankets, instead of having to do these months all over again. This is going to sound really sad, and really bloody pathetic, but I’ve watched the videos of you writing songs in my flat more time than I can fucking count since we broke up! You told the moon about me? I know that line. I’d know it anywhere. It’s the one right before I turned the camera off and kissed you. It just made me- I don’t know, I didn’t think hearing it like that would hurt so much.” He seems to be hit with a completely different emotion, some sense of regret, and it’s probably Sirius’ fault, since he doesn’t seem to be able to get his voice to work. He can sing night after night, go on countless talk shows, but apparently this is what it takes to render Sirius speechless. “I know I’m probably overstepping a boundary, and this is really fucking stupid of me, but I- I want to try again.” 
Yeah, the words really aren’t going to come out. He’s going to have to find some other way to tell Remus exactly how he feels. 
“If I didn’t say something I just know that I’d regret it for the rest of my life. So tell me to leave and I will. I’ll turn around and- and I’ll move country. You’ll never have to see me again-” 
He can’t say anything else, because Sirius is kissing him. 
He isn’t even sure when he made the decision to do it. It’s almost like a reflex, the first thing to come naturally to him. 
There’s not a second of regret that comes with it, though. 
Before he can even figure out where he got the idea to do that, Remus’ arms are around Sirius’ waist, pulling him closer and holding him secure, warm, safe . His lips are soft, so familiar that Sirius wants to cry. 
Actually, he is crying. 
Tears start rolling down his face as he pulls away to look at Remus. Thankfully, Remus is crying himself, and somehow also grinning like an idiot, which Sirius can genuinely say is the most beautiful sight he has ever had the privilege to behold. 
“Oh, my god, I love you, Remus. Moony, I love you so much,” he says quickly, hands reaching to cup Remus’ face. 
“So- you- do you want-?” 
“To start again? Pick up from where we left off? Anything, darling. Anything. I’ll take whatever you can give me, if it means I don’t have to try to move on. You’re not someone I can get over. I’ve tried, and I’m convinced that it’s fucking impossible,” Sirius says, making Remus laugh breathlessly and drag him back into a kiss. Not that Sirius is complaining. He would let Remus drag him anywhere. Remus is his everything. His world. 
Oh, my darling, how could I ever have let you go?
90 notes · View notes
hwashotcheeto · 2 days
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𝑩𝒆𝒔𝒕 𝑭𝒓𝒊𝒆𝒏𝒅'𝒔 𝑴𝒐𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒓 (10)
Best Friend's Mother Masterlist
Chapter: Ten
Milf!Park Seonghwa X gn!reader
Summary: Christmas has finally come. But with it, the end of Winter Break, and feelings that both you and Seonghwa are still too scared to confront.
WC: 6.3k
CW: Fluff, angst, suggestive but it cuts off
AN: I'm so sorry this took so long. I don't have much to say, other than this is more angsty than I planned, but I think it makes for a better story. I hope it's a good part one finale for you all, and you enjoy, as always. 💜
Tag List: @hyunjinsjeans @malldreamprincess @unlikelysublimekryptonite @goayeos @kittkat44 @babyxhoiz @asleepylilcat @mxnsxngie @rxnexxi @mommahwa1117 @acciocriativity @anxiousskylar @h3arteyes4mingi @jus2passtime @asjkdk @soso59love-blog @i-love-ateez @cb97s-laptop @multistanbaby
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It was December 24th, and you were awake way earlier than you wanted to be, standing in a jewelry store, looking through the glass of the display case at the many expensive, gorgeous, necklaces. 
But tomorrow was Christmas, and you needed a gift for Seonghwa, so sacrifices had to be made. 
You’d already figured out a gift for Wooyoung ages ago, you had it wrapped and ready in your guest room at the house. 
Now you were here, looking for a gift for his mother. 
You often had moments where you still couldn’t believe the life you were currently living. 
“Do you need help?” You snapped your head up to find the person who spoke to you, and your eyes found a sweet older woman, smiling at you from behind her glasses. “Oh, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you, dear.” 
“No, it’s alright,” you said back, offering back a half smile as you tried to collect yourself. “I’m just looking for a last minute gift. 
“Oh, well, what exactly are you looking for?” The older woman came closer, looking over the necklaces in the case as you were. 
At that moment, you realized that you really didn’t know what to look for. 
You had a good sense of Seonghwa’s style by now, but in terms of jewelry, you were a little stumped. In the month you’d been there, the three of you hadn’t really gone out, so none of you really “dressed up.” 
But of the things you did see, you weren’t sure what he preferred. He usually wore chains, something elegant to go with his already sophisticated outfits. 
But at the same time, you didn’t want a generic, expensive diamond necklace on a silver chain. Most necklaces looked like that, just a pretty pendant on a cheap, boring chain. 
Of course, they had their own charm, and you had a few necklaces like that yourself. But you wanted to find him something special, something as unique as he was. 
You were wishing you’d asked Wooyoung what Seonghwa would wear, but even you knew about Wooyoung’s inability to shut the fuck up. So if you did ask, you ran the risk of spoiling the surprise. 
“I don’t really know,” you mumbled, putting your hands into the pocket of your hoodie. 
“Well, maybe I can help you,” the older woman offered, giving you another sweet smile. You had to admit, in the back of your mind, you were doubtful. But you’d accept any help you could at that moment. 
You nodded, and the older woman nodded back. “So, who is it for?” 
You hesitated, even if this was the expected first question. Considering the previous day’s events, you were even more hesitant to even breathe a word of your infatuation with Seonghwa to anyone. 
So you spit out some half formed excuse that you hoped sounded believable. “For someone I’ve been seeing.” 
The older woman’s eyes lit up like stars as a big smile spread across her face. You couldn’t help but smile with her. 
“Isn’t that precious?” She looked at the display cases again before she looked back at you. “What are they like? What do they like to wear?” 
Like magic, there he was in your mind. Seonghwa, in his gorgeous dresses and outfits. Walking like a queen with the way he held himself. His gorgeous smile that lit up the world, and his bright doe eyes. 
He was everything. He was wonderful. 
“He’s very mature,” you began, not picking up on the fact that “he” was the pronoun that came out. “He dresses expensively. He’s a type that likes the finer things in life.” 
“You’re looking for something a little more expensive?” The woman teased with a little grin, but you nodded in agreement. You did have a budget, as your student loan money that you were using couldn’t all go to a Christmas present. 
But for Seonghwa, you’d do it. 
“Come with me.” The older woman began walking around to a different display case, and the necklaces here were far more ornate and expensive than the ones you were looking at. Your heart stopped when you saw the price tag on one of them.
One of these necklaces could easily pay for at least half a year of your tuition. That was intimidating, to say the very least. 
The older woman must’ve saw the color drain from your face, because she quickly leaned on the counter and spoke to you softly: “This is where I tell people to look for the piece they want, and then we usually find something more affordable that’s close to what they want.” 
Your entire body sagged with relief. 
So there you went, looking over the necklaces they had. These ones weren’t just jewels on a chain, they were much more detailed than that, more intricate. There was more color in them, more styles overall. 
As you were weighing your options, you were imagining Seonghwa in your mind, picturing how he’d look with each of them, what he’d wear with them, how it would look against his honey skin. 
A few times, you got a little too wrapped up in your fantasies and had to pull yourself back. 
You repeated the process until your eyes landed on the one. The one you could perfectly see Seonghwa wearing. 
It was a choker with a large red stone in the center, with many others around it. There were a few diamonds around it as well, but they were quite small. 
It could’ve been a crown. 
“This one?” The older woman asked, knocking you out of your thoughts and back to reality. You shook yourself and nodded, smiling. “It’s quite expensive, are you sure?” 
You looked at the price tag, and the necklace would definitely drain your bank account. 
But you wanted it. You wanted him to have it. 
“Yes,” you said, nodding. “I want that one.” 
The older woman hesitated for a moment, but then she nodded as well, and went to wrap up the choker. You watched as she took it and put it into a silk lined velvet box, laying it out carefully, as if she could feel the price of every gemstone. 
You followed her around the counter to where she was going to ring it up, trying your best to not be impatient. But the older woman couldn’t help but smile at your fidgeting and shifting around. 
Just thinking about Seonghwa wearing it, how pretty the red would look against his skin, the chains around his pretty neck-
“Please insert your card, dear,” the older woman called, still smiling brightly. 
You babbled out a “sorry” as you fumbled for your card to pay for the choker. The old woman was still smiling as you went through with the payment. 
And yes, the choker was incredibly expensive. No, it didn’t count as a student expense. 
But it was worth it for Seonghwa. 
The older woman pushed the bag across the counter to you. “There you go.” She flashed that sweet, warm smile at you again as you carefully lifted the bag off the counter. “I’m sure he’ll love it.” 
At that moment, you looked into her eyes. You looked for any deceit. Any lies. Any possible malice or potential push back. 
But there was nothing. Just light and joy. 
You smiled back and nodded as relief washed over you. “I think so too.” 
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You placed the bag underneath the Christmas tree, hiding it behind the present you got Wooyoung. Thankfully, the both of them were still asleep when you arrived back at the house. 
A stark contrast to the night before, the house was quiet, and empty. No people, no music, nothing. Just a house, full of decorations. 
But now, you were fortunate for everyone to be asleep so you could tuck your very expensive, very special present behind the others. 
But since the moment you left the store, you were having doubts. You just spent a lot of money on Seonghwa. You bought him something very special, something most people don’t gift to others unless they’ve known each other for quite some time. 
You hadn’t known Seonghwa for quite some time. In fact, most people would think you’re doing much more than you should so early on. Even you were thinking that. 
But you couldn’t deny the ache in your chest when you thought about Seonghwa. The goddamn ache, the feeling that could’ve dropped you to your knees if you weren’t careful. The ache you felt all over your body when you didn’t get the chance to even hold his hand, to hug him, to be with him. 
The crippling feeling when you thought about going back to campus and not seeing him for months. 
Maybe you were falling too soon and too hard. Maybe this wasn’t right. 
You moved to reach for the bag when you heard two doors open and close. As footsteps moved across the hardwood floor upstairs, you worked to get your jacket and shoes off as quickly and quietly as possible before the owners came downstairs. 
You closed the door to the coat closet as Yeosang and Jongho made their way down the stairs, wearing what looked like Wooyoung’s shirts and shorts, their hair messy and eyes half open. You gave them the best smile you could muster at that point, but tried to not over do it. 
“What are you doing up so early?” Jongho asked, his voice scratchy and low. Your eyes flicked up to the clock on the wall in the living room, above the TV, and it was just after seven. Would it be early if you were still on campus? No. 
But you weren’t on campus, so yes, it was early. 
But you realized you didn’t have an excuse as to why you were up so early. 
“Your guess is as good as mine,” you babbled, trying to sound as nonchalant as you could manage. To your relief, the two half awake men in front of you weren’t in the mood to interrogate you. 
“Us too,” Yeosang agreed, following Jongho into the kitchen. You did the same, getting glasses of water with them and sitting at the kitchen table. 
None of you said anything for a few moments. You three were enjoying the early morning silence, the peace, the few stray strands of sunlight peeking in through the windows and stretching across the floor. 
Eventually, Jongho broke the peaceful silence. “Do you think San and Wooyoung will be down before noon?” 
Yeosang pretended to think as he took another sip from his glass. He looked off, as if into the distance, like he was prophesying about the future. You couldn’t help but laugh. The sound made Yeosang smile. 
“No, I think they’ll be there until we go find them,” he concluded, finishing the rest of his water afterwards. You nodded in agreement, taking another sip from your glass. 
“I expected the same from you.” Jongho looked at you over the rim of his glass as he sipped his water. You looked down as your face began to burn. You didn’t have an answer to that, so you kept quiet. But you knew your friends wouldn’t let you off easy. 
Yeosang continued the conversation as he set his glass down in front of himself. “Yeah, it is a little weird that you’re awake so early, fully dressed, standing by the front door.” 
Both men were looking at you now as you stared down at the table, your face burning like the sun, the heat pulsing in waves. 
It’s not that you were worried that they’d spoil the surprise. You were more afraid of their opinions and judgements of the gift you got. You could handle the jokes and even fire back at them, and you welcomed the banter about the relationship you’d found yourself in. 
But you were already beginning to have second thoughts about the expensive present sitting across the house, tucked away under the tree, hidden away from sight because you were embarrassed. 
It was everything you were afraid of. Falling too hard too fast, committing to something larger than yourself, something you very well might not be ready for. 
“Hey,” Jongho called, waving his hand close to your face. “You kinda spaced there, you okay?” 
You blinked a few times, like you were rebooting yourself, and smiled as best you could. “Yeah, sorry, I’m good.” 
“Are you sure?” Yeosang countered. Their slightly amused faces turned to ones of concern, their eyebrows down. They weren’t sure what exactly was in your head, but they knew it wasn’t nothing, like you were about to tell them it was. 
And you knew they would push. But you didn’t want to vent all of your worries and fears and poor life choices at seven in the morning, especially when they didn’t know the full extent of the month’s events. 
Thankfully, you had your out, as Wooyoung came down the stairs with San close behind. They both looked like they’d skipped the waking up part of waking up, with fluttering mostly closed eyes and their hair the best example of a “rat’s nest.” 
Yeosang and Jongho looked up at them as they came into the kitchen, sliding their feet across the floor, hardly picking them up. 
“Good morning, sunshine,” you said cheerfully, trying to steer the conversation to the two zombie looking men that strode in. The two men at the table, to your relief, joined you in teasing the others. 
“The year hasn’t changed yet, just for reference,” Jongho threw out. Wooyoung rolled his eyes as he continued past the table to the cabinet to get himself and San a drink. 
San followed him, stopping when he did, wrapping his arms around Wooyoung’s waist from behind and laying his head on the younger’s shoulder. 
With the heat off you, you breathed a small sigh of relief. You knew this wouldn’t be the last of the conversation, but that would be a problem for future you to handle. 
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Seonghwa didn’t wake up until an hour after San and Wooyoung had. That was to be expected, after all the party planning and hosting he’d done the day prior. Not to mention, the emotional distress was quite draining. 
Wooyoung helped him with breakfast, and you all ate with minimal conversation, of which you were grateful for. The less you spoke, the less chances you had to expose or incriminate yourself. 
The rest of the morning was mostly slow and quiet. You were all still recovering and resting from the previous day, and dreading the end of Winter Break as a whole. 
Classes started again in the second week of January, but you and Wooyoung had agreed to be back on campus by January 1st. 
If you weren’t counting Christmas Eve, the day you were thinking all of this, you had only one week left. Seven more days until you had to leave. 
It didn’t help that Seonghwa was being particularly clingy that day. He sat next to you at breakfast, he was holding your hand, he was giving you little kisses. 
He hugged you from behind as you were helping with the dishes, holding you tight while his body pressed into yours. 
He wordlessly demanded cuddles from you when everyone dispersed after breakfast. He pulled you onto the couch and held you tight, almost falling right back asleep when he did. 
You didn’t think, or really even wanted to, ask why Seonghwa was so attached to you that day. You told yourself it was because he was tired. Or maybe he realized you would be leaving in a week too.  
Whatever it was, you were conflicted. 
You couldn’t stop thinking as you laid in Seonghwa’s arms, your head on his chest. You wanted to relax into his warmth and safety and let the tension melt off your body. 
But you kept thinking of that goddamn choker. The choker you were so proud of finding, that you gladly spent so much money on, the choker that you knew would look amazing on him. 
It was stuck in your head because you didn’t know if you were actually going to give it to him or not. 
Maybe you’d just take it back to campus with you and save it for another time. Maybe you’d return it altogether. You’d just sit with Wooyoung as Seonghwa opened the Lego sets Wooyoung said you both could take credit for. 
Maybe that was the safer option. Maybe that was the less crazy option. 
But as you began to accept that conclusion and make peace with it, the ache was back. 
As you listened to Seonghwa’s steady heartbeat, feeling his hand run up and down your back, the ache returned with a burning passion. Your breathing grew labored, like the ache was genuinely squeezing your heart and forcing the air out of your lungs. 
Tears welled in your eyes as you imagined shoving the choker’s bag into your own and taking it back to campus with you. The ache spread to your arms and legs as you thought about never presenting the gift to him, and simply just watching him open the presents Wooyoung bought. 
Your whole body hurt. It felt like a pulsing, squeezing pain, and you couldn’t escape it. You couldn’t stop the tears from running down your face. 
You’d fallen in too deep. You fell too hard, too fast. 
Everything you’d been afraid of had happened exactly as you thought it would. 
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By the time your friends left, the sky was already darkening again. As much as you all would’ve loved for them to stay, they had families to go home to as well. 
You wondered how long it would be before San and Wooyoung were consistently going to each other’s family events. Or even hosting their own. 
But it was hours since then, and you were sitting back on the couch with Seonghwa and Wooyoung. Seonghwa sat between the two of you, his arm around your shoulders, holding you tight against him, with Wooyoung sitting the same way. 
But Wooyoung was stretched across most of the couch and his arms were dramatically thrown around Seonghwa, like he was a figure in a painting you’d find in an old museum. 
You three had agreed to get snacks and drinks and watch Christmas movies until midnight, when you could open your gifts for each other. 
But the movies kept getting interrupted by Wooyoung being impatient, general commentary, and before you all knew it, you were all talking again with the movies long forgotten.
In a way, you preferred this. The more time you spent talking, the less time you had to think about the impending time of your decision. But as the clock ticked down, as midnight drew closer, your efforts were in vain. 
All you could think of was that goddamn choker. The repeated question of “will you, won’t you” flashing across your eyes like some kind of horror montage. 
You started to feel sick. Your stomach was churning, your head felt light. You were pretty sure you were beginning to turn green. All over a fucking choker. 
Midnight drew ever closer, and the dread in your stomach intensified and grew with every second that ticked by. Your eyes kept jumping back and forth, from the clock on the wall to the TV and back again. 
You nearly jumped out of your skin when Wooyoung sat up and yelled, “It’s Christmas!” 
Your hands were slightly shaking as Wooyoung got up from the couch and pulled you and Seonghwa along, dragging you across the room to kneel down by the Christmas tree. 
The warm lights of the tree that once brought you comfort now nearly made you vomit. 
You swallowed it back as you settled next to the tree on the hardwood floor, pushing the bag with the choker further back into the corner. Your wrapped your arm around your back in an effort to do so as subtly as possible. 
Seonghwa also came to sit on the floor in front of the tree between you and Wooyoung, but only after he’d gotten a trash bag to put the discarded wrapping paper in. Wooyoung happily shoved a box towards Seonghwa, a huge smile stretched across his face. 
“We got this one for you!” He dropped the present in Seonghwa’s lap as he reached over to grab the other boxes that had Seonghwa’s name on the tag. “And these ones too.” 
Seonghwa pouted, but then smiled warmly at his son. Oh, how ethereal he looked under the light of the Christmas tree, delicately highlighting his warm skin and putting sparkles in his eyes. 
You shook your head and came back to the present as Seonghwa began to tear the wrapping paper off the box in his lap. His smile grew bigger the more he revealed the box, and finally laughed in excitement. 
“Oh, nae sarang,” Seonghwa sighed, putting the wrapping paper in the trash bag. “This is so sweet of you, thank you.” 
Wooyoung was absolutely beaming, his smile outshining the tree beside him. His eyes flicked over to you, and you couldn’t help but share his smile. Seonghwa looked at you too, and your heart fluttered at the genuine gratitude in them. 
“Thank you too, jagiya.” 
You just nodded, your heart cracking a little. 
But you happily watched Seonghwa tear open the rest of the boxes. His eyes lit up every time, laughing in pure joy at the brand new expensive Lego sets. You nodded every time he said thank you, but guilt pulled at your heart knowing you didn’t actually contribute in any way. 
But Wooyoung didn’t seem to mind. He was just as happy seeing Seonghwa open the presents, as if he was the one receiving them instead of giving them out. 
You were truly the luckiest person to have Wooyoung. 
After Seonghwa had finished unwrapping the Lego boxes, he stacked them up and put them aside, and then pulled Wooyoung into a tight hug. 
“Thank you, nae sarang,” he said softly, pressing a kiss to the top of his head. 
“You’re welcome, Eomma,” Wooyoung whispered, squeezing Seonghwa tighter. 
Your heart cracked again. 
Wooyoung pulled away from Seonghwa and reached back under the tree for a bag. It looked fairly inconspicuous, just a regular white bag with white tissue paper sticking out the top. But in your experience with Wooyoung, quiet and boring was always suspicious. 
Seeing your hesitation, Wooyoung sighed and rolled his eyes. “It’s not a bomb, don’t look at it like that,” he whined. “Just open it.” 
“It’s a bag, it’s already open,” you teased, to which Wooyoung groaned and rolled his head back. Both you and Seonghwa let out a soft giggle. 
“Just open it, please!” 
With another giggle, you pulled the tissue paper aside and looked into the bag, seeing a bundle wrapped in more tissue paper. You carefully pulled it out and pulled the paper off to reveal the gift. 
“Wooyoung,” you breathed as you looked over the expensive outfit in your hands. The logo on the tag was what you saw first, your head shooting up to look at him in bewilderment. “What is this?” 
“Clothes, dummy,” he answered with his award winning smile again. “Now you don’t have to borrow my clothes for events.” 
You know his comment was a joke, but his words went straight to your heart. You hadn’t asked for this, Hell, you didn’t even think about buying it for yourself. 
But you finally had a nice outfit for events, or parties. 
Or maybe even future restaurant dates. 
“Thank you.” You carefully folded the clothes back up, as if they’d unravel in your hands, and laid them back in the bag. 
“You don’t have to thank me, it was a necessity.” 
You rolled your eyes, to which Wooyoung just smiled. You couldn’t stop yourself from doing the same. 
“Is it my turn now?” Seonghwa asked as you put the bag aside. Your eyes caught a glimpse of your own gift behind the tree again. 
“Sure,” you breathed, your lungs shrinking. Wooyoung eagerly reached under the tree and grabbed a box, wrapped in gold wrapping paper, with his name written on it in Hangul. 
He wasted no time in shredding the paper, almost reminiscent of a cat, and revealed a large, expensive laptop. Wooyoung just stared at it for a few moments with his jaw hanging open, his eyes the size of dinner plates. 
“Eomma,” he whispered, then looked up at Seonghwa. “When I said I wanted a new one, I wasn’t serious,” he started to explain, but Seonghwa held up his hand to stop him. 
“I don’t care, I wanted to get it for you. And I think college would be a little difficult with a broken laptop.” 
You held back a giggle remembering the moment Wooyoung dramatically wailed about how he accidentally knocked his previous laptop off a table and onto the linoleum floor of the classroom. 
Wooyoung just stared at Seonghwa for a few moments, like he was about to tell his son it was all a joke. But when Seonghwa just smiled at him, in the warm mom way, Wooyoung smiled too and hugged the box. 
“Thank you.” 
“You’re welcome, nae sarang.” 
Wooyoung set the box aside carefully, slowly setting it down beside him, making sure it would be safe before he turned to you and Seonghwa. 
You looked up at Seonghwa, and he smiled at you warmly before he reached over and squeezed your hand. “Your present comes later.” 
It took every ounce of strength to not burst into tears right then and there. You just mustered up the best smile you could and nodded. There was no teasing look in Seonghwa’s eyes, no allusion to more. Just his warm smile and bright eyes. 
“Eomma, I didn’t need to know that,” Wooyoung groaned dramatically, speaking loudly as he flung himself back to lay on the floor. You rolled your eyes as Seonghwa pulled his hand away and looked back at Wooyoung. 
“It’s not like that,” he began, but Wooyoung just whined again. 
“If you’re gonna be like that, then I won’t give you your present,” you added as you pulled out a large, black bag from under the tree, with black wrapping paper sticking out of it. 
Wooyoung shot up and looked at you, and then at the bag, then back again in confusion. His brows went down as he opened his mouth to question you, but you just slid the bag across the floor to him. 
“I’ve had them hidden for months,” you explained as wooyoung grabbed the bag.
“Them?”
“Yes, them, now go look!” 
Wooyoung looked at the bag again, this time with a look of concern instead of confusion, like something was about to jump out at him. He studied the still bag for a few more moments before he finally pulled out the tissue paper and looked inside. 
And he pulled out two small plushies: A black cat and a red fox. 
Wooyoung gasped as he pulled them out, then hugged them tightly. “You remembered!” He exclaimed as he looked at them again, turning them over and admiring all the little details. 
Months prior, Wooyoung wouldn’t stop talking about these plushies he wanted. He had a collection going, and he needed those two to complete it, but he never had a chance to get them. 
So one night, you did. You ordered them online and hid them in your dorm for months, waiting for the day you could’ve given it to Wooyoung. 
And here you were, on Christmas Day, finally seeing his eyes light up like stars as he looked at them both, hugging them like they were his children. 
The sight helped alleviate some of the tension in your chest. 
“Thank you,” he finally said to you as he looked up. You smiled, and this time, it was genuine. 
“You’re welcome.” 
Meanwhile, Seonghwa was smiling just as brightly. The mom smile you adored, the softness in his eyes as he looked at you both with unending fondness. 
It cracked your heart all over again. 
With all your presents exchanged, Seonghwa and Wooyoung collected their gifts and went to bring them to their rooms. 
You did the same, but hid the choker bag in the gift bag Wooyoung gave you, and ran to your room to hide it there. 
How ridiculous this all was. You bought the choker for Seonghwa, you brought it home, you’d imagined how beautiful he’d look with it. You’d walked out of that store knowing he’d gratefully accept the gift, and you were excited to see him wear it. 
But how could you give someone like him something like this? This was far too much money for someone you haven’t known for nearly enough time. 
But you bought it because of the goddamn pain in your chest. The suffocating, choking ache that grew ever stronger every day. It invaded every part of your body, it was in your blood and bones. Even if you wanted to smother it and shove it away, it would take forever. 
You knew what it was. You knew why it was there. 
But you didn’t have the courage to say it. Which is why the choker was getting shoved in the duffle bag and into the closet as you fought back tears. 
Maybe you’d give it to Seonghwa another day. Maybe as a birthday present, whenever that was. 
But not now. You couldn’t do it now. 
As you wiped the tears from your eyes, there was a gentle knock at the door before it opened a little. 
“May I come in?” It was Seonghwa, you knew it was him before he even spoke. 
You nodded, as if he could see that, as you said “yes” and sat down on the bed. Seonghwa came into the room and carefully shut the door behind him before he came to sit down next to you. 
In his hand was a square, navy, velvet box, about the side of a small plate. He held it out to you with a warm smile that would have melted the coldest of hearts. You took the box from him carefully, like it would disappear at any second, and were surprised when it had a little weight to it. 
“It’s okay,” he said softly when you hesitated, putting one of his hands over yours. You looked up and met his big, brown eyes again. “It’s all yours, jagiya.” 
You just nodded, because you couldn't think of anything meaningful to say as your eyes fell back down to the box in your hands. 
You shoved away the guilt that stirred in your gut as you slowly opened the velvet case, and tears welled in your eyes all over again. 
It’s like Seonghwa knew you were buying him a choker earlier, and that you wanted something with more detail and intricacies. 
A necklace, but there were gemstones all up the chain with a larger one hanging from the bottom. The gemstones on the chain were small and simple. not trying to be in the way, but just to elevate the chain. 
The larger, square cut gemstone that hung from the ornate chain was meant to be in the way. It wasn’t obnoxiously large, no, it was just perfect. 
Everything was perfect. You were blinking back tears, it was so perfect. 
“Seonghwa, this is beautiful,” you whispered, your throat closing up. You ran your fingers over the gemstones, almost like you needed to touch it to see if it was real. 
Seonghwa was beaming, lighting up the whole room with his smile as he watched you admire the necklace. “You said you wanted something to show off.” 
“And I will.” You carefully lifted the necklace out of the box, and as you were going to put it on, Seonghwa stopped you and reached up to take it. 
“May I?” Two simple words. Words that were very small and insignificant to anyone else. 
But this moment felt like much more than just putting on a necklace. 
It almost felt sacred. Intimate. Like a ceremony. 
You nodded and gave the necklace to Seonghwa. He moved closer and wrapped it around your neck, reaching over your shoulder to clasp it behind your neck. You felt your face burn at how close he was, with his arms around you, his body enveloping yours. 
But he pulled back just a few seconds later to admire how the beautiful piece sat against your skin. Seonghwa’s eyes lit up like stars as his smile spread across his whole face again. “I knew it was perfect,” he said softly as he ran his fingers down the chain. 
If your heart could beat any harder, the large stone on the necklace would’ve started shaking. It was a bizarre feeling, to be so guilty and torn up, but so elated, and desire the man before you. 
And when Seonghwa’s eyes flicked up to yours, it’s as if he could see it all. Every tear, every smile, eerie second guess you’d ever had. Like he could see the entire month of December replaying in your eyes in those few seconds. 
There were no other words spoken as Seonghwa leaned close and pressed his lips to yours. It was a soft kiss, feather light. Loving. 
When Seonghwa laid you down on your back, your body turned to putty in his hands. Your limbs were growing weak as you wrapped them around his body. You wanted him as close as close could be, wanted to remember his taste, every soft moan as he breathed his life into every kiss, the touch of his hands on every part of your body. 
You wanted it all. And Seonghwa was more than happy to provide. 
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The first day of the new year had come and gone. The thirty one days of December went by faster than they had in previous years. 
But as you and Wooyoung loaded your bags back up into his car, you were anything but joyful. 
“We’ll visit again during Spring Break,” he reassured you as he closed the trunk. “And it’s not like you don’t have his number, you can still talk to him.” 
Wooyoung was trying his best to reassure you, but his face fell when he realized nothing was working. Everything he was telling you, you already knew it. Obviously you’d see Seonghwa again, and you’d probably be texting him at least once every few days, if not every day. 
The world was not ending. This blissful period did, but it wasn’t the end of everything. You’d be back, you’d see Seonghwa again. 
But the months between January 1st and Spring Break would be difficult after the month you’d just lived through. 
It felt juvenile. You were a grown adult in college, working towards a degree to hopefully secure a good career and have a comfortable life. You had classes to worry about, not your boyfriend who’s double your age. 
But he wouldn’t ever leave your head. You knew in your head that when you went back to class, he’d probably be there in the back of your head. 
An effort in mental gymnastics is what these next few months would hold. 
Wooyoung brought you back up to the house for your final goodbyes. Seonghwa was standing in the open doorway, dressed in a cream knitted sweater with black sweatpants. Normally, he was dressed up in some way, even if it was a pajama set. Today, he hadn’t bothered with fashion. 
Wooyoung hugged him first, squeezed him so tight, he lifted Seonghwa off the floor. For the first time that morning, you smiled as they both laughed. The noise of surprise and protest Seonghwa let out just made Wooyoung hoist him up more, until all three of you were laughing. 
“How could you put your poor eomma through such things?” Seonghwa asked in a perfectly dramatic voice as he made a show of fixing his hair and sweater. 
“As if you’re any better,” Wooyoung teased. Seonghwa just smiled and kissed his head, to which Wooyoung reciprocated with a cheek kiss. 
“Be safe, nae sarang.” 
“I will, Eomma.” 
They exchanged an “I love you” before Wooyoung walked away, and gave you a nod before he went to sit in the car to wait. 
It was like a movie scene. The sun was setting, the snow was falling. The sunset colors illuminated your face as Seonghwa gave you a half hearted smile. 
You wordlessly hugged him tightly, and he instantly returned the hug. You two stayed there in that hug, silently clinging onto each other like it would be the last time. 
It wouldn’t be the last time. Far from it. 
But you both found something that December. You found someone. And it was so special, you couldn’t bear to lose it. 
As you pulled back to look up at him, the little voice was in your head again. Telling you that you were taking this too seriously, that you shouldn’t have been so upset, that this wasn’t a big deal. 
The voice disappeared as Seonghwa pulled you into another loving kiss. The idea that this was a movie scene popped back into your head as he held your cheek and kept you close. 
You could've sworn you heard your heart break when you both pulled away. 
“Be safe,” Seonghwa softly said onto your lips. You nodded as you painstakingly pulled out of his arms. 
“I will. You too.” 
Seonghwa gave you another small smile. His eyes flicked down to the necklace that you still wore. You’d worn it every day since the night he gave it to you, and kept it in it’s case every night. 
You smiled back before you forced yourself to walk back to Wooyoung’s car. Seonghwa watched from the doorway until Wooyoung’s car disappeared, and he could no longer hear it. 
Wooyoung reached over the center console and held your hand, lacing his fingers with yours and squeezing. He didn’t need to say anything, no words needed to be said. 
But as you were swallowing back the tightness in your throat and blinking back tears, the comfort felt good. The firm squeeze was what you needed, as you both were headed back to campus, unsure of where life was going to bring you both next.
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Thank you for reading! Please reblog if you enjoyed! 💜
This is a work of fiction written by me. This does not represent the idol(s) in any way. Any re-upload is not allowed and will be reported.
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Text
A Lover's Embrace
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Pairing: Joel Miller x Reader
Summary: After ignoring your anxiety for too long, it all comes out. Luckily, Joel is there to hold you through it.
Warnings/Tags: Soft!Joel, can imagine game!Joel or tvshow!Joel, can be pre-outbreak or post-outbreak, reader has no desciption, petnames, crying, anxiety and difficult emotions, comfort
Word Count: 1.4k
a/n: I have had nothing but anxiety for the past couple of weeks and finally had some room to breathe so I decided to write a little comfort piece.
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You’d spent the entire week trying to ignore the feeling that had been bubbling inside you. 
The first three days were spent in denial. The anxiety that had started to swirl in you lingered more like a nuisance than a real threat. You couldn’t understand why it was there, why now. 
So you pushed through it, carried on with your daily tasks as though it wasn’t there. 
But after those first few days of denial, it had become unbearable. It was impossible to escape the feeling that was overtaking your body, the sensation digging deeper and deeper into your chest until you were sure you would collapse in on yourself. 
It had become suffocating, and that suffocation only magnified what you were feeling. A week into feeling this way, with no end or remedy in sight, the anxiety within started to bubble and leak out. 
There was a sadness mingling with it now. A feeling of despair, of frustration, with yourself as much as it had also been about the unwanted feeling. 
Through it all, the main priority had been caging it in and locking it up, determined to not let it interfere with your life or with Joel’s. 
Joel had been busy, too. The more he was needed by others, the longer he spent away from home. When he’d return to your shared home late into the evening, you already in bed, you didn’t have the heart to lean on him. He was carrying so much. He always carried too much. And you didn’t want him to have to carry you despite his exhaustion. 
This night wasn’t very different from those other nights. 
Joel was still not home. The darkness of the night had already started to take over the sky, and the house you occupied had become silent once again. And that feeling, that anxiety, only grew in that silence. 
A shaky sigh escaped your lips as you aimlessly walked through the space, eyes scanning for ways to distract yourself from the feeling taking over. Hand pressed to your chest, an attempt at grounding yourself, as you tried to steady your breathing. 
You moved into the kitchen, deciding that tea would help, that the warmth would somehow end the anxiety. The heat, however - like every other night so far -, did nothing. It instead felt like the warmth was scorching you, the heat of your anxiety mingling with the tea, fueled by it. 
You tried everything. You did those breathing exercises, you opened a window; you’d even tried touching something soft, a blanket Joel had gifted you, in hopes that it would somehow replicate his presence and ground you. But nothing worked. 
Tears of frustration gathered at your eyes, and you began to make your way into your bedroom, hoping that sleep would come faster than all the previous nights. Hoping that the feeling would end. 
You watched as the clock kept moving. 8pm. 9pm. 10pm. And then, finally, 11pm. 
The lack of sleep and the constant state of tension your body had been in the past few days was not enough for you to fall asleep. Your body ached, heavy and exhausted from the stress it had been put under. A dull throb lingered in your head, eyes burning as you closed them. The tears had started falling, no longer contained. 
You eventually heard the front door open, the sound loud in the silence despite the way Joel was trying to be careful with it. You wiped your tears away, closing your eyes and turning your back to the door, hoping that he would think you were asleep just as he had done all the other nights. 
His steps resounded as he made his way to your shared bedroom. The door creaked open slowly, and you could feel rather than hear Joel make his way toward the bed. The sound of Joel undressing and getting ready to join you was the only sound in the room. 
You felt the bed dip behind you as he lowered himself onto it, a small grunt escaping his lips. He shuffled, moving himself into a comfortable position on his back, and the sigh of exhaustion and relief that came out of him at the feeling of finally resting brought a new batch of tears to your eyes. You didn’t want to be a burden to him. You’re just a burden. 
You felt Joel slowly move toward you, his arm snaking around your torso and pulling you against his chest just as he always did. You tried to stifle the sound of your sobs, but the shaking of your body and small sniffle that escaped you was immediately felt and heard by him.
His hand pulled you into him tighter, his head lifting from the pillow to look at your face, studying whether you were awake or not. 
Joel immediately sat up, his torso reaching across you to turn on the lamp beside your head. The sudden light made you squint, eyes clenching even tighter, but Joel cradled your face gently in his palms, turning you towards him.
“What’s wrong, sweetheart?” He whispered, the concern obvious in his voice as much as the exhaustion was. “Are you hurt? Did something happen?” 
His eyes scanned your body, hand lifting the sheets so he could see if you were in any visible pain. 
You shook your head, hand moving on top of the one cradling your face to keep it there. The tears kept falling, everything that had been locked away for so long finally spilling out of you. 
“‘m not hurt, I just-” you whispered back. “I don’t feel good.” 
He pulled you into him, body cradled in his arms as he held you against his chest, face gazing down at you as you lay there wrapped in him. 
“Your head hurt?” He asked, still unsure of what was wrong. 
You shook your head at him, the tears still falling as you try to lean even further into him. 
“No, I’m not in pain, Joel.” You sniffled.
“Baby, you’re making me worried- what’s going on?” He asked, hand rubbing a soothing pattern on your back. 
“I don’t know what’s wrong. Something’s not right but I don’t know what. I just… I feel so scared. I’m so anxious.” You whisper. 
He moves to press a kiss to the top of your head before pulling the sheets over his body and yours, intertwining you together, pulling you into him. 
You lie there in silence for a while, your confession heavy in the air. The sound of his breathing and his heartbeat at your ear begins to slowly lull you from your panic. The warmth of his body was soaking into yours, the strength of his embrace making you feel safer than you had done in a very long time. 
“How can I make it better?” He whispers, finally. “I don’t… I don’t want you to feel that way but I don’t know what to do for you.”
You move your head, finally facing him, and lean to press a soft kiss onto his lips. “Just hold me.” You whisper to him. 
He nods his head, pressing an equally soft kiss onto your lips as he keeps his arms wrapped around you. The silence continues, his arms and presence grounding you. 
“I’m sorry.” You whisper to him, feeling new tears start to gather at your waterline. 
“What are you sorry for?” He whispers, the confusion audible in his voice. 
“‘m sorry you’re having to stay up with me right now. You should be sleeping, you’ve had a long day.” You sniffle.
“You don’t have to feel sorry about that, darlin’.” He whispers. “I want to stay up with you.”
He presses a kiss to your lips. 
“I’ll do whatever you need me to do to make you feel better.” He reassures you, another kiss pressed to your lips. “I love you.”
The warmth of his words and his actions brought a comfort you hadn’t had that entire week. And while the fear and anxiety hadn’t completely disappeared, you could feel them slowly ebbing away.
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caesium-55 · 1 day
Text
—everything is orange. [ iv ]
pairing: lando norris x kpop idol! reader
summary: a racecar driver who needed a fake girlfriend to dispel rumors and a kpop idol who needed publicity for her song. somewhere in between orange cars and orange sunsets, stands something they're afraid of naming.
note: omg im so sorry for not being online lately. i got a writing part time job now so... i may not be as active as before. hope yall are having a great day! not edited. not beta read.
masterlist.
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Everything inside your studio is gray. The walls, the couch, the floor, the instruments. It's the kind of room that will make a sad beige mom over the moon.
But when you open the door and the sight of one Lando Norris greets you, looking devilishly handsome in his dark blue button up shirt and black pants and Nike sneakers with his curls concealed underneath his dark blue bucket hat, the studio suddenly doesn't feel as gray as it usually is.
“Lando?” Your brows rise towards your hairline. Truthfully, he’s one of the last people you expected to see inside HAN Ent’s building, much less outside your studio.
“Hi,” he smiles charmingly at the shock in your voice, showing all teeth and smile lines. “Do you mind if I come in?”
You stammer, still not over your shock, “S-Sure.”
You step aside to grant him space and allow him to enter your magic shop. Lando’s eyes curiously roam around the studio and you close the door behind him, nudging the houseplant further to the wall using your foot to avoid getting tripped on it in the future.
“Take a seat. Please,” you invite, gesturing towards the couch. Lando takes the invitation and sits down. He looks too big on the couch, you note. He has long legs and an athletic build. Perhaps, it’s time to buy a bigger one.
“Nice place,” he compliments.
You want to snort out loud but refrain yourself from doing so.
Lando is saying things out of politeness.
Your studio is shit.
You know that.
It used to be a stock room that was converted into a studio when Yoon PD-nim offered you that deal, that's why the room is graciously small. They soundproofed the walls, painted everything gray, shoved in a few pieces of recording equipment and called it a day.
It's still quite nice of Lando to compliment the place though. You might hate this place but this is your wizard’s tower, your witch’s hut, your magic shop, and you feel pride swell in your chest when someone thinks your little corner is cool, even if you think he’s lying.
“Thanks,” you say sincerely. “How did you know I was…”
“I asked Jinnie,” he says simply.
“Ah,” your tone falls flat.
A moment's pause.
“So this is where you’ve been working?”
You nod. Suddenly, you feel conscious.
Your studio isn't really in the best state right now. When you work in a creative fever, you tend to make a mess. Being messy enhances your creativity. The sprawled papers with lyrics, the empty styro cups of coffee lying around, numerous pens and pencils (you don't even know why you feel the need to bring a lot of them) and rubber erasers, and your snacks. There's a mountain of crumpled paper in your trash can.
“Sorry, the place isn't really….” you trail off, making vague gestures with your hand. “I didn't know you were coming.”
“It's okay,” he chuckles. “I called, you know. And texted. You didn’t return any of it.”
“Oh, my phone’s charging,” you say, beginning to feel bad that you accidentally ignored him. “And my notifs are silent.”
“That explains it.”
“Shouldn't you be resting?” you asked. “You have a flight tomorrow.”
It's currently the 19th. Lando is set to leave for Japan on the 20th. His team wants him in Suzuka by September 20 and not later than that. They already had a field day when Lando announced that he's flying with you. At first, he wanted it to be just you and him. His team wouldn't let him because he can be a PR nightmare if given enough freedom so they let his manager, Kyla, tag along.
You’ve mistaken Kyla as a member of the PR team. Turns out she’s his manager.
“Is it a sin to want to spend a few hours with my girlfriend before I go?” he flutters his eyes innocently. You snorted.
“Fake but okay.”
“I’m being sincere here, girlfriend,” he pushes his lips into a pout. “Did you eat already?”
“No,” you answer.
“Should we grab something together?”
“Should we?” you humor his suggestion. It's been a few hours since you’ve eaten. You’ve skipped both breakfast and lunch.
“I think I can call a restaurant and make a reservation.”
“It's near midnight,” you point out, glancing down at the Rolex decorating his wrist. Isn't he aware of how late it is?
“So?”
“Restaurants are closed by now,” you state.
Lando shrugs.
“I can make the effort of finding those seafood pasta you like.”
Your brows furrow.
“What do you mean like? I never said I like those.”
“But I thought…” Lando blinks. “I’ve read it somewhere…”
“Huh?”
“You're from Jeju, right? You grew up eating seafood so you like seafood and you once said you have a palate for Italian food. I tried…liking the pasta with seafood. I hated it but I ate it anyway.”
Your jaw hangs open at the revelation.
This is single-handedly the sweetest thing someone has ever done to you.
You don't know whether to be touched about the sincerity or to cry because of his idiocy. You can definitely do both but you refuse to do both. You have an image to maintain.
“Didn't I tell you that the company manipulated my public information?” you ask incredulously. “Yes, I was from Jeju but I didn’t eat seafood much. I have a mild allergy—”
“In seafood?” you see his eyes widen into saucers. Oops, you shouldn't have said that. “Wait, you had an allergy attack, didn't you? On those lunch dates we had? Why didn't you tell me so early on?”
“I thought you liked it!” your voice raises slightly, panicked. You're caught. He isn't supposed to know about this.
“I didn't?! I loathe seafood but I ate a few bites because I thought you liked it!”
You blink at him. That is the sweetest while simultaneously the most stupid thing someone has ever done for you. You drag a hand across your face, a groan escaping your mouth and yet you’re smiling. You shake your head at him.
Points for Lando Norris for making you capable of feeling frustrated and another feeling you cannot name.
“We’re idiots.”
There is a stretch of silence before Lando speaks up.
“What do you want to eat? And please tell me the real one.”
You began listing the first three things that appeared inside your brain, “I like…. ramyeon, natto, and tteokbokki.”
You have a palate for convenience store food. Food that you can find in busy night markets. Food that is sold by street vendors. The kind of food that tastes like absolute shit if cold but tastes like home if microwaved into the right amount of temperature. If you venture in your imagination hard enough, you can taste your mother’s cooking after a few bites. But you don't tell Lando that.
“We can eat that.”
You raise a brow.
“The ramen, the chicken, and the tteokdokdok.”
“Tteokbokki,” you correct him gently.
“Tteoktokki,” he repeats.
“Tteok.”
“Tteok.”
“Bokki.”
“Bokki.”
“Tteokbokki.”
“Tteokdokki.”
You shake your head, “Tteok-Bo-Kki.”
“Tteok-Bo-Kki.”
You snap your fingers, nodding in approval, “Better.”
“I literally said the same thing.”
“You didn't.”
“Where will we eat this tteokbokki?” He says the tteokbokki slowly, careful with his pronunciation.
“There are night markets nearby,” you tell him. “It’s crowded though. I know a good convenience store that’s a good drive away. It’s usually empty. Do you go to convenience stores?”
You suddenly feel stupid for asking.
Do multi-millionaires like Lando Norris go to convenience stores? It’ll make much more sense if he books restaurants or employs a private chef to cook for him at home. Do they even have a palate for instant food? What do rich people snack on? You don't know. You're not rich. Even after becoming famous, you’re still not rich enough to live the life of luxury.
This just highlights the difference of the worlds you and Lando live in.
“I do. Just not frequently,” he shrugs. “We can go to the convenience store if you want. I don't mind.”
“No, it’s fine. We can eat anywhere you want. Jinnie might have a few hotel restaurants in mind.”
“But do you want to eat in hotel restaurants?”
His question makes you pause and Lando immediately takes your hesitation as a no.
“We can eat anything you want to eat. This is your place anyway. Show me around.”
You bite your lower lip as you contemplate. Should you or should you not? That is the question.
When your eyes drag themselves back to Lando’s face, you see that he’s already looking at you intently as he awaits your answer patiently. You want to shrink back at the intensity of his gaze.
“Well then, do you want to go on a convenience store date with me, boyfriend?”
Despite the hesitation he’s displayed earlier, Lando grins at your offer.
You take Lando to your favorite place in all of South Korea. Google Maps says it's a three hour drive away. You arrive there in two hours and a half.
Maybe it's a sign to change careers.
You used your Jeep Wrangler. Lando offered to drive but you shook your head and hopped on the driver’s seat, him taking the passenger seat.
You won't allow anyone to drive your car. It's a rule of yours.
The last time you allowed someone to drive your car, your Hyundai jumped over a sewage canal. Lando might be a professional race car driver and that alone spoke multitudes of his driving skills, but you're so traumatized with the incident with your Hyundai that you physically can't allow anyone, professional driver or not, to handle the steering wheel of any other cars you own.
Cars are expensive. You can't buy another car. You’ll bawl when you see the money departing your bank account.
You palm the steering-wheel with your right hand. Your left hand lays flat on the back of the passenger seat, behind Lando’s head. Your upper body is rotated towards the back, full focus activated as you reverse the car in expert ease. Lando is observing you, you can tell. You can feel his eyes burning holes in your side profile.
“You okay?” You ask Lando. The man has gone uncharacteristically silent when you’ve started reversing the car. You hear Lando let out a breath. Almost shakily. You cannot tell for sure.
“Yeah,” his voice breaks like a boy undergoing puberty and you have to thin your lips into a line to prevent yourself from laughing. “Nice parking skills.”
“Thanks,” you say nonchalantly. “You sure you're okay though?”
“Yeah, don’t worry,” you see his Adam's apple bobbing up and down as he rubs his throat. “I think the seatbelt’s a little too tight.”
Once the car’s perfectly parked, you kill the engine and exit the car. Lando follows suit.
“I don't know why you have to drive for almost three hours just to visit this place,” Lando gestures to the surroundings. “There's nothing here.”
“Exactly,” you say. “Come on, boyfriend.”
You pat his shoulder and lead the way. A bell chimes loudly as you push the door open. You step inside, the British racer only a few steps behind you. You tug down your mask.
“What's this place?” Lando questions.
“24-hour convenience store,” you answer. “But no staff.”
“No staff?” he asks. “So self service?”
“Ah yes, that’s the word. Self service,” You say. “Quite nice, right? We have complete privacy and good food. Two best things in the world.”
“Careful. Your introvert is showing.”
You snort, “First time coming to a place like this?”
“Yeah,” he shrugs. “No staff? Does nobody attempt to steal things?”
You shrug, “Probably not. Ramen is not worth going to jail for.”
“This shop will make a million dollar loss in an hour if it's in another country,” Lando says, his nose wrinkling. “Like in the UK or US or something.”
You beckon Lando to follow you through the aisles, “This way.”
“You even memorize the places of things,” he comments. “You come here often?”
You hum a yes. You stop in front of the freezer and open it, pulling out two plastic cups.
Lando’s forehead creases, “Just ice?”
“This is an ice cup,” you explain.
“Are we going to wait for the ice to melt before drinking it or….”
You stare at him incredulously before promptly bursting out in laughter.
“What's funny?” he asks, genuinely confused.
“Nothing, sorry,” you clear your throat. You don't know why you find that funny. Your humor is broken. “They sell pouches of juice or coffee and you pour it into the cup.”
Lando’s head tilts. He looks like a confused baby owl.
“Here, I’ll show you,” you walk up to a nearby shelf and grab a Kuromi pouch. It's peach-flavored. “This. You pour it here.”
You gesture to the ice cup. Lando’s mouth forms a circle in realization.
“Cool.”
“There are a lot of flavors,” you add, gesturing to the shelf. “Peach, apple, mango, strawberry, orange…”
You read out the flavors for Lando because you know he can't read Hangul. Lando wordlessly picks a grapefruit-flavored pouch. You nod.
“Good choice. Oh wait, we forgot to get a basket. Can you?”
Lando nods and leaves. When he comes back, now with a yellow basket, the two of you continue to browse down the entire store. You explain each of the food. He said no to most of them. Lando is a picky eater, you learn.
The two of you fill the basket near to the brim. You pay for each item, even though Lando insisted that he do it, and you occupy the table that faces that floor-to-ceiling glass window, overlooking the darkness of the night outside.
“Here,” you hand him a plastic fork. Lando accepts it, his brows furrowed. “You were struggling with the chopsticks.”
A shy smile makes its way to his face, “Sorry.”
You wave your hand as if to say it's no problem and plop down on the chair beside him. Lando digs in with his Buldak Samyang carbonara while you stir your Yoppoki Tteokbokki with yours before taking your first bite. You immediately let out a moan of pleasure.
“Is it delicious?” he asked.
“Very.”
You eat until your cheeks fill, chewing slowly.
“Oh wait, you should post something.”
“Now?”
“You took pictures of me earlier, right?” you know he did. He tried to be slick about it but you’d know if someone is taking a picture of you. “Put it on your story.”
“And delete it?”
“No. The world already knows we're dating anyway. Well, fake dating.”
Lando pulls out his phone and shows you the pictures in his gallery. There are aare a total of four pictures. Three are blurry. The other one is blocked by his finger.
“That one is good.”
“What do you mean good? It's blurry.”
“Blurry is an aesthetic.”
Lando shakes his head but opens his Instagram and begins to edit the photo you’ve chosen, “Help me with the caption?”
“I’m not good with them.”
“Me neither.”
“Your first caption was pretty good.”
“You think so?” he sounds hopeful.
You shrug your shoulders.
“Just say something like ‘her’ then put a period.”
That's the limit of your creative powers for the day.
Lando nods and begins typing. He’s typing quite long for a word with three letters and a single punctuation mark. He shows you the caption.
Your brows furrow.
He laughs, “I’m funny.”
“You’re really not,” you shake your head. “Put it in your drafts.”
“So I’m not posting it now?”
“You post it after we leave the place,” you say. “So we’ll be gone by the time the fans see it and decide they’ll come here.”
“That's very smart.”
“That's not being smart. That’s just common sense,” you state flatly.
“You know, I always thought you'd be a cold person.”
You raise a brow, not entirely sure if you're understanding him correctly. Cold is an adjective. It's used to describe temperature. You're uncertain if it can be applied to use as an adjective to describe a person.
Lando must have sensed your confusion that he adds, “Ice queen.”
Oh.
Yeah.
Okay. You understand it now.
“You used to look so cold and cool,” Lando says. “Ice queen. But also an IDGAF attitude. Very intimidating.”
You have no idea what IDGAF means but you nod your head and act like you understand him anyway. You make a mental note to search it up on the internet later.
“But you’re not.”
“I’m not,” you echo.
“You’re actually pretty sweet,” he adds.
“I’m trying to be kind.”
“You don't have to try. You already are.”
“The companies make us act sometimes.”
“What?”
“Like, before debut,” you begin. “There are companies that assign certain images to their idols. They give them parts to play like directors do to actors in movies. Like, oh, you look like this kind of person so you have to act like this kind of person. They take a look at your visuals and decide what role you’ll have. They took one look at my face and told me that I have to be a strict and serious person who is scary and cold and unbothered. I didn't want to do it because I tend to smile really easily before and I just wanted to have a lot of friends, you know?”
You shrug your shoulders.
“When you’re intimidating, you tend to not have a lot of them. Despite that, I followed the role. Many praised me for it and others just….well, they didn't like it. The company was happy, though. They told me I was good at acting. But it's just…sad that the person I am on the screen is not real.”
“Yeah, that's honestly sad. I can't imagine doing that for my team. I’ll suck at it. Imagine me cold and serious,” Lando makes a serious face but he ends up doing a The Rock Smoulder. You have to stop yourself from laughing out loud by thinning your lips and twisting it.
“You're doing it, though. For the team. This whole fake dating thing,” you gesture to yourselves.
Lando mutters something under his breath while stroking his chin. You don't catch it.
“Hm?”
“Nothing. I think your eyes are pretty.”
He's changing the subject. He does it so swiftly, too.
“I know, I thank my mother every day for it,” you joke and Lando chuckles softly. “But don't be jealous, you have pretty eyes yourself.”
He turns into a lovely shade of pink. You can see it. You don't speak of it.
“It changes colors sometimes,” you continue, pointing at your eyes. “Like, it’s kind of gray in the dark. But if the sun shines on it, it has three colors.”
“You stare at my eyes a lot, do you?”
“Well, if a certain thing is pretty, you can't help but stare, you know?”
“Yeah, I guess that's why I stare at you a lot, too.”
You laugh, the sound airy, shaking your head. What a flirt. The cute kind.
“I’m quite the head turner, aren't I?”
“You are,” he agrees seriously.
“You’re not so bad yourself.”
He smirks, confident.
“Careful, you might fall for me, fake girlfriend,” he says cheekily. You have the desire to shatter his ego so you did.
“You're handsome but you're not my type.”
His smirk falters. You give a chortle.
“What's your type then?” he asks, leaning slightly forward. His eyes reflect anticipation.
You fall into a momentary thoughtful silence, “For starters, attractive men who can drive very fast cars. With a racing license this time. Not like me.”
Lando smiles at your light attempt at a joke. Good to know that he finds the dark humor surrounding your career-ending scandal funny.
“I am an attractive man,” he gestures to his face. “With a priceless face and I drive a very fast car. Formula one or sports cars. Oh and would you look at that? I have a racing license and a regular driving license.”
“You are an attractive man,” you agree. “But again, not my type.”
Lando dramatically puts his hand against his chest, right above where his heart lies and acts like you just shot him dead on the spot.
“Hmm, what else? Ah, plays golf,” you list another trait of your ideal man.
“I play golf,” he crosses his arms, leans back against the back of his seat, and lifts his hips a little as he adjusts his sitting position on the chair, manspreading a little. This is one of the subtle things men do that women cannot help but find attractive. You’re also a woman. Of course, you find that attractive.
You roll your eyes, feigning annoyance. Lando laughs at you.
“A few years older than me.”
When Lando opens his mouth, you cut him off, holding up a finger, “I’m older than you.”
By months only but still.
“In the standards of your fake birthday, I am older than you.”
You huff, shaking your head. He is right, to some degree. The world thinks he is older than you because HAN Entertainment decided to lie about your birthday.
“Looks good in red.”
“You know, orange is a mixture of red and yellow. Technically, it's still red. So I look good in red. One plus one equals two. I am connecting shit.”
He raises two index fingers in the air and connects them together to put further emphasis on the words he imparted in a sage-like manner.
“You're not connecting anything.”
“Hell yeah, I am. I am so smart, I should just be McLaren’s chief strategist. Maybe then I can finally get my first win.”
You cannot help but raise an amused brow.
“Fine, if you're so smart Mr. Strategist, what's plan A to your victory?”
His answer comes immediately, no hesitation and he utters it with so much confidence in his chest: “Sneak into Red Bull and steal their car.”
You abruptly burst out laughing, the sound filling up the entire convenience store. You cannot hold it in anymore. You have to slap a hand over your mouth to quiet yourself down.
You don't laugh pretty. You're very much aware of that. You sound like a dolphin when you do. But Lando is so funny that you forget to feel conscious of the weird sound that leaves your mouth for a whole five seconds before you remember to compose yourself and stop.
“You don't have to cover your mouth when you laugh, you know?” he says. “Or try to stop yourself from laughing. Just laugh if you want.”
You give him a look. Why is he turning serious all of a sudden?
“Wait, red?” Lando does a double take once you’ve composed yourself. “Don’t tell me your ideal type is….”
His forehead creases. You nod.
He says, “Carlos?!” the same time you say, “It’s Kim Mingyu.” How did he even come to that conclusion?
Oh wait. Red. Older than you. Drives fast cars. Racing license. Makes sense.
You blink at each other.
“Who the hell is Kim Mingyu?”
“You don't know Kim Mingyu?” you pull out your phone, open Google Photos, and search for the folder named: 민규❤️❤️❤️. The folder contains 7659 photos of Kim Mingyu.
“Fake boyfriend, let me introduce you to my boyfriend, Kim Mingyu,” you show your favorite Mingyu photo.
The one where he’s wearing a black fitted shirt, his cheek against the back of his hand, and the veins in his arms bulging. He’s serving major boyfriend vibes.
Lando rolls his eyes.
“He doesn’t look that good.”
“No, Lando, you are not seeing it,” you hold the phone closer to his face.
“I am seeing it and I am saying he’s not good looking.”
“Lies.”
“I'm not lying.”
“It's Kim Mingyu.”
“And?”
You pull a face, retracting your phone. “Come on, he’s quite good looking. And tall. Very tall.”
You once have to stand beside him in an ending ceremony in Inkigayo. You barely even come up to his chest.
“I’m tall.”
“You’re shorter than him.”
“You're killing me here.”
You chuckle. You pat his shoulder in faux sympathy.
“There, there. That's okay. You're my boyfriend anyway. Don't be jealous.”
“Damn right, I am.”
You snort.
“But you have to stan Seventeen though. After your race in Suzuka, we’ll try to binge GoSe.”
When you’re too full to finish the rest of your tteokbokki, you drag Lando outside the convenience store.
“Sand?” he questions.
“Sand,” you state.
“There's sand in my shoes,” Lando complains.
“Take it off and like,” you make the motion of flipping your shoes upside down to remove the sand inside. He does as you’ve told him but he seems to be not fully satisfied with it. There is still sand inside his shoe.
“This won't do,” he says. “I should have brought flip flops.”
“Let's go barefoot,” you kick off your shoes and neatly place them on the foot of a nearby coconut tree. You motion for Lando to do the same, but you’re met with hesitance.
“What if someone steals them?”
It's a valid concern to have, you suppose. You look around you. Darkness is all that can be perceived.
“Who’d steal them? Cheonyeogwisin?”
“I don't even know what that is.”
“Just leave the shoes here, Lando.”
The sand feels good underneath your feet. A bit ticklish. A little too familiar. You turn on the flashlight of your phone and jog up to the shore.
“Wait for me!” you hear Lando scream from behind you.
“Palli!” you yell back, voice almost drowning in the wind.
“I am palli-ing!”
You roll your pants up to your knees and soak your feet in the cold waves, shivering. You turn around just as Lando body slams you and the two of you fall into the ice-cold waves. Your jaw comes slack, eyes wide. The two of you are now drenched from head to toe.
Lando bashfully smiles, “Sorry.”
“Lando!” you splash him in his face.
Lively shrieks fill the silent night sky. The stars twinkle with mirth at the two of you, the line between fake and real blurring.
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
Lando flies out just four hours after you arrive in Seoul proper. You feel bad for bringing him somewhere far and not giving him enough hours to rest. Then, he tells you: "It's one of the best nights I've ever had."
He sounds so sincere that you have to stop yourself from blushing red.
In the schedule Jinnie gave you, you are only required to make an appearance in the race proper on the 24th. You have the 20th, 21st, and 22nd to work on your single before having to fly out on the 23rd. Regardless, you fly to Japan on the 21st with Jinnie in tow, two days earlier than your original schedule.
Jinnie doesn't question nor protest against your obvious disobedience on the appointed schedule. You're glad she didn't.
"Lando?" you question after seeing the man standing behind your hotel door. It's nearly twelve and you've just checked in the hotel with Jinnie. "What are you..."
"Just checking in," he smiles. "Do you mind if I come in?"
"Don't you have a race tomorrow?" Despite your question, you sidestep to let him inside your hotel room. "You should be resting."
"That's okay. I'm well rested. Are you going to watch the FP1 tomorrow?"
You shake your head, "I'm going to work on my song."
"Oh," his face falls. "Why'd you fly in early then?"
You shrug.
Honestly, you don't know either.
It's an act based purely on impulse. Not your finest moments.
"Maybe I can watch?" you say. "I'm not really sure."
You don't want to get mobbed again.
ORACLE has a rather large fanbase in Japan. You know there will be curious fans who'll await your appearance in the race. And while you're glad that your PR relationship with Lando is receiving the right type of attention from the public, you still hate having this much attention on you.
"You don't have to if you don't want to," Lando says.
"I'll go," you decide with finality. "I mean this is why we're doing this in the first place, right? Make people believe that we're real."
Lando's lips form a line.
"I suppose."
"Then, I'll be there."
The song making can wait.
Once again, Jinnie takes charge in deciding your clothing. You’ve long since given up on protesting or even suggesting your ideas. You have to get used to it again. Wearing whatever is given to you like a doll. After all, you are to return to the stage of KPop again.
Today’s WAG OOTD is a Miu Miu black dress, a black leather jacket, and Gianvito Rossi strappy sandals. Nothing too impressive. It's just the free practice sessions after all.
Jinnie hands you the McLaren ball cap and you grimace.
“How's the song coming up?”
“I’ve been trying to combine my demos and see how it sounds,” you reply. “But I have a concept in mind and I jotted down a few phrases for the lyrics.”
“I got an email from Yoon PD-nim today. He’s strongly suggesting you use a racing concept for your single.”
Strongly suggesting.
Translation: commanding.
“I’ll keep that in mind.”
Fuck it.
He’s really going to use the scandal and hope it’ll make you rise from the ashes like a phoenix reborn. The problem is that you're far from a phoenix. You’re human. As disappointing that may be but that is the cold truth. You're uncertain how people will react if you use a racing concept. You cannot afford to risk this over something like this.
You have one chance. And if KNetz reacts badly on your song and your MV, you’re never going to have another chance to go back on stage, to go back home.
Yoon PD-nim is too thoughtless at times. You want to shake him.
Jinnie drives you to the paddock and drops you to the parking lot. You expect that you’ll have to find your way to the garage again alone. Your knees are trembling as you step out of the car.
To your surprise, a staff member of the McLaren team—you assume he works for the team because of the orange polo shirt—approaches you as you exit the car.
“[Name]?”
“Hi,” you offer a polite smile.
“I’m Rick, I’m one of Lando’s mechanics, pleasure to meet you,” he introduces.
“Pleasure is all mine, Sir,” you say, dipping your chin into a small bow.
“Come this way,” he beckons. You follow him.
“Did Lando ask you to pick me up?”
“Well, he insisted on picking you up but the race was about to start so we had to force him to stay put in the livery and he wouldn't stay put until we said we’ll pick you up. Said people might flock over you and you don't like it when it happens.”
Your heart warms.
“That's very thoughtful of him. And sweet.”
“That's Lando Norris for you,” he says. “He’s always treating all the people he’s working with kindly. He only has to be polite but he even exerts effort in helping and making our work easier.”
“That's true,” you agree. “I can attest to that, as his fake girlfriend. He only has to treat me well when there's a camera but he’s even going as far as offering friendship.”
The rest of the walk to McLaren was peaceful. Or at least as peaceful as you hope it can be.
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ikozen · 19 hours
Text
[ 7:51 pm ]
warnings: penetration, blowjob, slight handjob, fingering, wonbin is kinda mean, intended for 17+!!!
“f-feels so ahhh!, good binnie” you slurred out. you’ve been teasing wonbin all week wearing revealing clothing and ‘accidentally’ dropping things so you can bend down and show him your plump ass that your shorts barely did the job at covering. denying him of the pleasure of fucking you felt like a curse was put on him.
but don’t think that he couldn’t see how much you wanted him to fuck you and that your game would soon get you in trouble. just like right now as he feels your tight cunt clamped around his dick while he roughly pounds into you. if you knew teasing wonbin would get him this frustrated to fuck you until you’re a crying mess and can barely take it anymore, you would have done it sooner.
‘you were teasing me all week and you can barely handle what i’m giving you.’
the pleasure was too much for you to handle. your lips found its way to wonbin’s hoping you could silence yourself. you didn’t want your neighbor to knock on your door the next morning due to your loud moans. the knot in your stomach started to slowly come undone as your cunt fluttered around wonbin’s dick. mantras of wonbin’s name fell from your mouth. before you could even cum, your orgasm was ripped away from you, leaving you a whining mess.
‘since you wanted to be such a fuckin tease then get on your knees. gonna fill your pretty mouth.’
situating yourself on your knees, you took wonbin’s dick in your hands and stroked his dick as you kitten licked his mushroom tip, ever so often wrapping your lips around it. even still you were teasing him. i guess maybe you didn’t learn your lesson. you opened your mouth and took wonbin in your mouth, wrapping your hand around the remaining length you couldn’t fit in your mouth. moans and groans filled your ears as you moved your head up and down.
it was hard to even fit wonbin’s dick in your mouth without gagging. eventually wonbin took over, gripping your hair as he forced you to take the whole of his length in your mouth. you looked so cute to him. struggling to suck his dick while he fits every last inch in your tiny mouth.
‘mhmm fuck baby, you’re taking me so well.’
you looked up at wonbin with tears in your eyes as saliva pooled at the corners of your mouth, running down your chin. the loss of wonbin’s dick in your cunt made you fuck yourself on your fingers as he fucked your throat. you looked like nothing more than a slut to him. so cock hungry while his dick is stuffed in your mouth as you played with your cunt. such a slut that you couldn’t even wait until he was done with your mouth to stuff your pretty cunt again.
streams of curses and moans left wonbin’s mouth due to you humming around his dick from you pleasuring yourself on your fingers, occasionally rubbing your clit. soon after you felt the same familiar knot coil in your stomach.
‘i’m gonna cum baby. f-fuck! make sure to swallow everything.’
a few more thrusts of your fingers in your sopping wet cunt made you cum all over your fingers. wonbin soon followed after with a few sloppy thrusts in your mouth, cumming in your mouth making sure you swallowed every last drop as your throat contracted around his dick. a gasp left your mouth as you pulled off of wonbin’s dick, catching your breath with your body soon relaxing.
‘we’re not done. since you wanna tease me, i'm gonna teach you a lesson.’
maybe teasing wonbin was a horrible idea.
tags: @yeagersex @scarfac3 @ghokyo @ilwonuu @thestarry-nights @haechansbbg + comment if you want to be added!
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navstuffs · 2 days
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hi!! i really love your writing and i would love if you could feed me with a request (only if you're comfortable with it, ofc) 👉🏼👈🏼 what about a leon x reader where reader is passing through a very tough depressive crisis and is really not fine mentally speaking — and leon just try to help and comfort them through this? 👉🏼👈🏼
anyway, thank you for your fics, they really helped me these days 😭💗
Anchor
Pairing: Leon Kennedy x GNPartner!Reader
Summary: It is 1 am when Leon Kennedy knocks on your door. He shouldn't be there and you shouldn't have opened it. 
Warning tags: hurt/comfort, angst, leon almost died, reader is suffering with anxiety due to past events, can be read as platonic or romantic (you choose)
Writer's Notes: hello! first of all, im sorry i took so long to write this request for you. i changed some stuff and i hope you don't mind (reader is still depressed). thank you so much your kind words and i hope this fic serves as comfort for you!! <333 stay safe anon!
for more painful leon's fics, check my masterlist. i have some happy ones too :)
It is 1 am when Leon Kennedy knocks on your door. It is the third time that week only, the fifth of the month. 
It starts when you don’t appear at work after two weeks since his return, and no one knows where you are. HR informs you are sick, which means you are still alive somewhere in the world, just sick. Okay, but sick with what? Sick how? Are you in the hospital? Do you need any help? Leon knows you don’t have family around, like him, and you are pretty much alone - like him. 
So, as any regular worried friend would, he calls and texts. He wants to hear your voice and guarantee that you don’t need help and have everything you need. That you truly are okay. No answer. HR has guaranteed him you are not dead, but what if you—no, he shouldn’t think about that.
The next step is going to your house. He knows where your address is and wouldn’t be a complete weird appearing there in the afternoon. No answer. Leon won’t be a creep as far as looking at your windows, at least not yet. He won’t go as far as busting your door and checking how you are feeling because he needs to confirm you are okay. You might just not be home.
On the second visit, Leon got awfully close to kicking your door. Before he could do that or even knock, he saw a shadow pass over the window. Though Leon told himself he wouldn’t, he looked inside just in time to see you disappear to the second floor. So, at least you are really alive, Leon’s body filling with relief. It could have been a bad case of flu, and you don’t want to contaminate anyone.
One more week passes, and he visits your house two more times. Those times you didn’t even bother to hide yourself, lazily lying down on the sofa in a way Leon couldn’t see your face (oh yeah, now he is definitely peeking out your windows). So you are genuinely ignoring him or truly sick with some contagious disease. Maybe Covid?
The fifth time he knocks on your door, it is 1 am and Leon is deeply not only worried but bitter. He was sitting in his apartment alone, wondering what you had and why you didn’t open the door for him. You two are colleagues, and Leon would dare to go as far as to call you his friend if anyone asked. How many times have you brought him soup while he was sick? Brought him meds, kept him company? Checked on him until he was finally all better?
It would be only fair if he did the same.
Leon grabs his keys without even thinking: You will open the door for him tonight. And if you don’t, well, he will kick it open. To hell with the civil approach.
-x-
All the courage slips away from his body when he notices the kitchen’s light on. Leon can’t see anything inside since you decided to make his life harder and close the curtains. So, instead of kicking that door until it’s down, Leon goes back to the gentle approach (like the idiot he is): he knocks.
The door opens not even ten seconds later, and Leon blinks, surprised. You are there. You, not a trick of his eyes: a fluffy and long blanket covering your body, only your face peeking with a familiar expression Leon recognizes immediately - he had seen in his own mirror before.
“You won. What the fuck do you want?” Those are the first words to him in weeks.
“May I come in?” 
You ponder for a moment, your eyes red, and Leon wonders when you last slept. You walk away, leaving the door open, and Leon follows inside, locking the door behind him. 
Your house isn’t in the best state. He had been here before and thought you weren’t the most organized person (“I can find myself in my own mess, Leon.”). The mess had grown too much from normal. There were tons of take-out boxes on the kitchen counter, pizza boxes, and fast food bags. At least you had been eating—not the best food ever, but feeding. He could work with that.
And the bottles—oh, those Leon would identify anywhere. You weren’t a heavy drinker, and you mentioned plenty of times you didn’t know how he liked whiskey. Now, there were countless empty bottles of whiskey, beer, and vodka, so much so that the place looked like a bunch of frat boys had a party just the night before and didn’t bother to clean.
Leon follows you to the living room as you fall onto the couch. An old Simpsons episode plays on the TV screen. There are still some bags and bottles on the floor, but fewer. Your eyes focus on the TV, not really watching or paying attention to him.  Leon stands there, keeping a safe distance from you and gathering what to say. 
“I came to check on you.” Leon starts, his eyes glued on you. “You haven’t called or texted me back. The HR said-”
“I am sick. I wanted to be left alone.”
“I know, but-”
“I could complain about this to HR, you know? It could be considered an invasion of privacy, and you could lose your job. “
“I was worried about you.”
“You saw me in the window that day, didn’t you? I’m alive and breathing. Now get out.”
You hide your face in the sofa, conversation clearly done on your side. It feels like an impossible battle to win. Leon then tries again, “Do you need anything?” 
“No. Get out.”
He sighs, turning on his heels. Leon wants to say you can call if you need him, any time, but Leon knows you wouldn't. This is an impossible battle to win, Leon realizes as he starts to leave. But then he freezes, a memory piercing his thoughts. Leon comes back to the living room, your face still hidden.
“No.”
“What?” 
“I am not leaving. Not before I know what is wrong.”
“I am sick.”
“Yes. So I have heard.” 
You don’t turn to look at him, and that’s fine. If you want to be stubborn, so could he. Leon can wait. The episode on the TV finally ends, and as the familiar opening plays in the background, you slowly turn in his direction, one eye appearing first, then the other, as if expecting Leon would be gone by now. Unlucky for you, Leon S. Kennedy didn’t give up that easily, especially for his friends.
“I don’t know what you are feeling, but I know that face.” His voice manages to sound neutral.
Of course, he does. Of course, your partner, the legendary D.S.O veteran, would know. You, just a newbie, would have no idea what he went through, but Leon didn’t seem the kind of person to crumble for anything. Leon would probably be fine if you were the one to get shot, not him. He wouldn’t have panicked, he wouldn’t have started crying, screaming for someone to help them, losing themselves in a sea of despair and pain.
“Hey…”
Blood. So much blood in your hands. You are useless, you can’t help him as Leon’s face loses color-
“Hey.”
He deserved someone better—someone much better as a partner—not you, a weak agent who thought you were strong enough to stand by his side. Oh, how wrong you were.
Leon calls your name, more urgent this time, and your line of sight is filled with the face of the man you considered your friend right at your path—concerned blue eyes, his hair tickling against your face. His forehead is in concentration, the faint ghost of a beard, as he speaks soothingly. “Hey, look at me. You are safe. Deep breaths, come on.” 
The visions mix as you blink: Leon losing blood in your arms, unconscious, back to being safe, his worried eyes staring at you.
Your rapid breathing noise fills the room, your heart wanting to burst as the pain spreads over your body, the pain worse than being stabbed or punched. You keep your eyes on Leon - he is fine, he is safe, he is well, he is worried sick about you- as he continues to nod and tell you to breathe.
It takes a while, Leon’s hands on your shoulder as you finally calm down, the tears rolling freely from your eyes.
“I am sorry.” You manage to whisper. “I am so sorry.”
“You are safe. We both are safe.” Leon declares, and you take that in. Right now, yes. But what about tomorrow? What about-? “Hey, eyes open at me.” When had you even closed them? “Come on. There is no one else, just you and me. And we are safe.” 
You nod, not arguing back. Finally, you sit down, and Leon takes two steps back. “Water?” 
“I think there are some in the fridge,” you reply, cleaning your tears. Leon leaves and quickly comes back with two bottles, unbottling them for you. You shake your head, but Leon insists, and you drink in small sips, the cold liquid refreshing your dry throat. When was the last time you had any water? Or took a shower? Or slept?
Finally, you give him space on the couch to sit. Leon doesn’t, and you point your head to your side, and he sits, keeping a safe distance from you. You two say nothing for a while, simply looking at the TV to watch Bart Simpsons on his shenanigans. 
“I am sorry.”
“Would you stop that?” Leon sighs back, frustrated. 
“No. I am sorry.”
“Fine. I forgive you. Are we good now?”
“No.” 
“I knew it wouldn’t be,” Leon replies with a sad smile.
“You could have died, and I didn’t-” Leon says your name, but you continue “-let me finish. I didn’t help. I didn’t move. I did nothing.” 
Leon didn’t want to talk about this, knowing it was inevitable. The day he took a bullet for you: not one, but two. Leon noticed before you, his reflexes quicker than yours. It was his responsibility anyway.
You only watched, shocked, as the bullet pierced his leg, then his chest. You didn’t move or flinch; you just froze, your hands closing and opening nervously as Leon fell right in front of you. You had been fortunate that the backup team had arrived on the other second, finding in the middle of the swarm of bullets a screaming you protecting Leon with his own body, all training thrown out of the window. You two should have been dead. Life had given you and him another chance, since no other vital organ or vein of Leon had been damaged.
You don’t remember much after except asking for your resignation that same day and getting a “No” as an answer. So you decided to get on sick leave until some higher-up got tired and fired you.
“I did nothing.” Leon tries to interrupt you again, but you continue, “You could have died, and I did nothing.”
“It wouldn’t be your fault.” 
“What? Of course, it would!” 
“No, it would not.” 
“Can you fucking stop trying to make me feel better?” Your tone is so angry, so vile, that Leon almost flinches. 
Death is always in the back of his mind. Every time he is out there, he could die. He is expandable; they all are, but he couldn’t just let you die. You a much smarter version of what he once was during Raccoon City. The same bravery, but not foolish as his. Much sharper. Leon knew why he got paired up with you in the first place, the irony not completely lost in him. 
It would have been fine if Leon died that day he protected you, but not okay if you did. Not on his watch. Not now, not ever.
“I can’t help it,” Leon replies, a sad smile on his lips. “I can’t help it, especially when a friend needs my help.” 
A friend? 
Do not grow attachments. Wasn’t that your first lesson? It had been hard to be paired up with a man who hated it at first, then to learn how to laugh at his silly jokes or admire how far Leon would go for anyone. For anyone, except himself, stupid brave man.
You open your mouth and close it, simply lying against the sofa with your eyes closed. 
“So, let me help you?” His voice is warm and inviting. 
It would be best if you said no. You should kick this man out of your living room, out of your life, and never go back to that stupid job fighting an endless battle that would end with you dead or someone you cherished dead. You don’t know how Leon does it, but as you open your eyes, his blue eyes look straight at you awaits in hope. Waiting to comfort you, support you to the best of his abilities, and be your friend.
The pain is still there, vivid in your soul and mind, but there is hope. Right there, in that tiny spot you gave Leon S. Kennedy. That’s why you shouldn’t have opened that damn door, you realize, but it is too late. You limit on nodding.
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