11:11 pm
pairing - established relationship | husband mingyu x reader
genre - fluff/angst?
word count - 800
warnings - not proof-read, negative thoughts, tiny bit of unspecified mental issues.
synopsis - kim mingyu, the man who has never failed to steal your heart.
a/n - happy super late birthday to my man <3 can be read as a pt.2 to sincerely yours!
"gyu" you mutter, the nickname spills out of your mouth effortlessly. You don't really know how you ended up like this, how your head ended up on his lap, how you ever got the chance to meet someone as amazing as him, and how you think that you don't deserve him at all. Your getting side-tracked.
"hm?" he questions as you let out another sigh of contentment, you really could stay like this forever. Mingyu is too perfect, he's every girls dream. A pretty man who knows how to cook? Sign the whole female population up. It's times like these where you wonder why he chose you, out of 8 billion people, why you?
"your over-thinking again," he whispers softly, continuing to play with your hair. You always said that you were a closed book, but mingyu somehow managed to read every single page. He knew how you were feeling, he knew when your thoughts would get so loud, he knew when your thoughts would become self de-appreciating. He knew everything.
"i was wondering about something," you mumble. Mingyu knew how to keep you grounded whenever your mind was floating. He wasn't necessarily forcing you to stop over-thinking but when you started thinking negatively about yourself he would ground you, support you, be there for you.
"and what were you wondering about love?" he asks looking down at you with the biggest puppy eyes ever. You think that you might just fall in love with your husband again. He had child-like innocence and you just wanted to pinch his cheeks and pepper his whole face with kisses.
"i was wondering, why do you love me?" you question softly, this question had been running through your head all month day. Out of so many people, why you? He could've went for a prettier female idol, one that could match his status, why you?
"Your asking me that 2 years into our marriage?" He says sarcastically letting out a soft chuckle. To be honest, mingyu loves you for everything. He loves your pretty smile, your pretty eyes, your hair that he has the privilege to play with, your soft lips, everything. He loves your flaws (he doesn't really think they're flaws) too, he loves how you'll keep talking, he loves how you'll take an hour to decide between sushi or pizza, he loves how awkward you are in social settings.
"shut up! can't a girl ask a question" you protest slightly, but you don't really mean it. If someone asked you why you loved mingyu you would come up with a whole 2000 word essay. Mingyu would constantly re-assure you, tell you how pretty you were every single day, flooding your notifications with "ily, come back into my arms asap" messages every single hour.
"If you want the answer, I love everything about you." he began, he knew how cheesy he sounded but he didn't care. Nothing mattered when it came to you.
"that's cheesy." you comment laughing softly, you suddenly felt a finger resting on your lips. If mingyu tried to tell you what he loved about you he would probably run out of breath, you had so many amazing qualities that he would probably need a life-time to list it out.
"it's true though, i love everything about you. your smile, your sweet laugh, every single one of your moles, your dimples, your bread cheeks." He rambled removing his finger from your lips. You were too perfect for him, most days he would be left thinking how someone like you chose him. You were so charming and attractive how did no one else take you before him?? The world was missing out on you.
"shut up... your making me fall in love with you again." you grumble softly, you weren't annoyed, not at all. Mingyu smiled softly, that was his wife right there.
"I can make you fall in love again, wanna see how?" he snickered softly, you knew he was going to do something definitely. You always fed into his antics though, watching him smile like an adorable puppy after getting treats always made your heart melt. That was the main reason why you treated bobpul like he was your own child.
"and how will you do that?" you questioned, adding fuel to the fire. Mingyu didn't respond but smiled softly, trapping your lips in a kiss.
Mingyu has kissed you many times, but this time feels different. Your hair is messy, his hair is messy. Your wearing nothing but his oversized hoodie and a pair of sweatpants, bare-faced. But when he sweeps you into a kiss it makes your heart beat faster than it should've. Something about the suddenness of the kiss almost sent your heart into cardiac arrest. You were going to sue him for this.
@ADDISCVT 2024
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"Warning Signs Your Machines Are Trying to Kill You!" by TJ Klune
(Legally, I’m required to tell you that when smart phones first became popular, I bought one and then asked for the address of the app store because I thought it was a physical location I had to go to in order to download apps and not something already on your phone. Also, I was recently told I speak like an old person so as a warning, there will not be any slang you youths typically hear, especially on Tumblr. Any slang I’ve learned in the last five years has been against my will. I still don’t know what FOMO means, and I don’t care.)
1. Oh no! You and your family are trying to enjoy a movie night, but Overlord Prime (With Free Shipping) wants a sacrifice at the altar of their god, BeeZos. Should this happen, do not attempt to give Overlord Prime (With Free Shipping) a cantaloupe with googly-eyes on it and say that it is your baby. Overlord Prime (With Free Shipping) knows the difference between fruit and children. Instead, ask the machine to order dog food, and it will forget about eating humans for a little while.
2. If you own a very fancy vehicle that can drive itself, always make sure to carry a brick. That way, when the car locks you inside and attempts to drive you off a cliff into a gas station, you can break the window using the brick. You will then have to jump out, but make sure you do so in time so you can watch the wicked-ass explosion when the car hits the gas station, and you can revel in your victory over your car.
3. This one will hurt. I’m sorry, but it’s true. Chances are, you’re reading this on your phone right this second. To be safe, after you’ve finished reading this post and have clicked on the affiliated links to purchase my books, you should throw your phone into a volcano and then move to South Dakota where there are no machines, only wind and cows. That way, when everyone else gets the 5GZombieVirus that people on Twitter (I’m not calling it the other thing, shut up) seem to think is real, you’ll be safe with your cows on a windy day.
4. Get rid of your air fryer. Don’t ask me why, just do it. Red flags all around. Danger, danger.
5. Do you know of the Clapper? That thing first launched in the late 20th century (I wrote it that way to make me feel old) where the commercials showed cranky old people unable to reach their light switches, so they got a thing called a Clapper that turns your lights on and off when you clap? Guess what? Those will be the first things to try and kill you. If you love your gram-gram, save her from the Clapper. When she asks why you are destroying it with an ax, tell gram-gram it’s because you love her.
6. Do you live in a smart home? The kind where everything is connected to the internet, including your refrigerator? The refrigerator that holds your perishable foods? And oh, would you look at that: how many ice cubes have you kicked under it rather than picking them up when they fall to the floor? A dozen? A million? The refrigerator remembers. And it will spoil your food in seconds. What then? What are you going to eat? Canned food? Not if the refrigerator falls on top of you!
Unfortunately for you, this is where it must end. I hope this has given you enough information to help you survive the inevitable. If you do not heed my warnings, well. Who cares. I’m not in charge of you. Do whatever you want. Just don’t come complaining to me when gram-gram gets the clap.
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Hits Different (...'cause it's you) (2)
«« I trace the evidence, make it make some sense Why the wound is still bleedin' »»
PAIRING: kim mingyu x reader
SYNOPSIS: Kim Mingyu was the first friend your brother had brought home for dinner. Fast forward a couple years, his toothy smile and pierced ears would wedge their way into a permanent place in your heart. Nail to a coffin, never to escape.
or;
in which you get rejected by the only boy you've ever loved; a rejection you can't quite shake off.
GENRES: based off of 'Hits Different' by Taylor Swift, brother's best friend!au, brother!seokmin, fluff, angst, smut (in part 2) [MINORS DNI], friends(?) to lovers, university!au.
PLAYLIST: right here!
WORD COUNT (full fic): 40k (im actually embarrassed)
Part 1: 20.2k | Part 2: 20k
masterlist
WARNINGS : slowburn, angst, fluff, mingyus a bit of an airhead and an ass, reader has a hard time managing her feelings, lots of frustrated tears, one sided pining, user toruro x minghao make an appearance, swearing, there's another woman (gasp,,,,,but shes cool so), Nayeon is a darling, Seungcheol is kinda annoying here but we love him, smut, making out, breast play, fingering (f. receiving), p in v sex (protected + unprotected), oral (f. receiving) uhhhh i think that's it lmk tho
[A/N]: Part 2 !! shit goes down in this one so be prepared ig lmao. thank you for the love on part 1, i hope you enjoy the finale too hehe
For the third time this week, you wish you could squeeze your brother’s brains with your own two hands and watch it explode like a grape without legal repercussions. Or parental ones.
You slam your phone down on the counter after you end your conversation with him, frustrated as you watch the empty shelf where you left your dinner for today in the fridge last night, and the other green box that was actually your brothers. Refusing to eat the dry PB&J he usually packs for himself, you slam the fridge door shut, trudging out the door to leave for work, thoroughly annoyed at the prospect of needing to eat out.
It’s gone forgotten for most of the day, that is until the clock hits eight and you feel your stomach grumble, immediately putting you in a sour mood as you remember you couldn’t enjoy your pasta because your brother was enjoying your pasta. You only had another hour left, supposing you could wait till you get home to make dinner yourself, not feeling the burger joint across the street in the slightest. Eating a moonpie to satiate yourself for the time being, you go back to stocking the shelves for the new LP shipment, making a vague mental note to ask Mingyu if Jia liked the gift he picked out a couple weeks ago.
Your opportunity arises almost automatically as you walk over to greet whoever came in, abandoning the opened box of bubble wrapped LPs as you hear the bell chime softly at the front of the store.
Mingyu was here (again), hands occupied with a bag, looking relieved to find you emerging from the shelves.
“Oh, you’re here. I was afraid you left already,” he says, smiling slightly.
“Would’ve been closed if I did.” You nudge your head towards the clearly unlocked door, donning the neon open sign.
He looks a little dumb, turning to look at the door. “Oh. Right.”
You can’t help but smile a little. “Caught me at a good time though, I was just about to start wrapping up here.”
He suddenly looks like he’s reminded of what he’s come here for, placing the bag on the desk next to him. “Seok told me to drop this off for you, he said it’s food.”
Snorting, you take a look at the inside to find takeout from your favourite pasta place, which also happens to be your most expensive favourite pasta place. Seokmin felt bad enough to spend extra dollars on your dinner tonight, you guessed you could forgive him.
You sigh as you speak. “And you strike as his errand boy yet again, sorry he’s been making you do all this.”
“Did he piss you off?” Mingyu asks.
“Hm? He’s been pissing me off all week, this is him trying to get on my good side before I spit in his coffee.”
He laughs at that, a toothy smile that has your stomach lurching. The flashback was brief but vivid all the same, his grin triggering a long forgotten memory. You could almost see the black studs in his ears again, his bangs falling in chunks on his forehead, his face turning into the boyish sixteen year old recollection on your kitchen counter, drinking cans of Monster and helping you lie to your mom.
“Explains why he was ready to drop that much on a bowl of pasta.”
“Hey, it’s good.”
“I don’t doubt it.” He grins, “I’m gonna leave your pasta in your loving embrace, I have to feed my car now. Been putting it off till payday.”
“Oh, right. Thanks for dropping this off though, appreciate it.” You offer him a tight lipped smile. One that he returns, canines almost glinting in the light (but that’s just you).
“No worries, I’ll see ya around.” You don’t remember what you were meant to ask him until he’s long jingled the glass door shut, walking to his parked car. You supposed it could wait, Jia would’ve liked anything he got her. You could ask him later, not wanting to have him turn around to answer the obvious question.
The opportunity does not arise as easily as it did this time, a couple weeks passing in relative uneventful indifference, slow days at the store and nights in seven days a week. You were starting to wish you’d taken summer classes while you were stuck here anyway, the mundane days pushing you to believe you’d rather be busy than inexplicably bored. It’s not until your brother has a near mental breakdown from only having a sister as his main recreational contact that there’s a change.
Mingyu sits on your couches in the dark, useless blanket thrown over his torso as both of his sock clad feet hang out in the air. To be fair, nobody’s looking at anybody as the eyes remain on yet another unnecessary explosion on the screen. You vaguely wonder how the ship hasn’t sunk yet.
“What the fuck do you mean he’s been alive this whole time?” Seokmin utters, voice thick with the entire stick of butter he stuck into his bowl of popcorn.
“Who funded this?” Mingyu mumbles from the other end, a deep frown etched on his face.
“The people who funded the other three monstrosities.” You roll your eyes, inching your way into a sitting position, the ache making its way into the crick of your neck.
“There’s more?!” The prospect had Mingyu hurtling into a sitting position, but not without his own set of winces as he feels the bones cracking and muscles aching. His hair is a mess, his hoodie nearly backwards, and you can’t help but laugh at the mildly confused and bewildered expression he has on.
“Yeah, you wanna watch those too?” you ask through giggles.
Glancing at the final pub scene that’s playing on the TV, he's quick to mumble, “Fuck, no.”
“I haven’t watched a real shitty movie in a while.” Seokmin groans as it’s his turn to stretch. “This was fun. Hollywood’s back.”
Both you and Mingyu pointedly ignore his statement, your own mind debating whether you wanted to watch another movie. It’s not until you look up to see Mingyu doing something on his phone that you remember what you wanted to ask him.
“Hey, Mingyu, did — Seokmin!” Your brother’s decided to begin his aerial stretches, touching his toes and cracking his back. You shift your head wildly to get a gap through his restless movements, eventually giving up finding Mingyu. He could hear you. “Did you – ugh – did you get to give Jia her present?”
You aren’t sure what it is, but the way the question has Seok landing on his heels mid tip toe stretch and how Mingyu’s eyebrows shoot up, you don’t doubt you’ve touched on something sensitive. There’s a part of you that wonders if it’s too late to take it back when both boys make eye contact with each other, but your brother beats you to it.
“I, uh…forgot to tell her,” he lowtones.
You look to your brother and then to Mingyu.
“We broke up.”
Oh.
“Oh.”
“Yeah.” Mingyu smiles a little awkwardly, and Seok makes a strangled sound that may have been a laugh of his own. Or a cough, you aren’t too sure. “But…she did like the present, when I gave it to her anyway.”
“Oh, that’s…that’s good,” you manage, not knowing what to say. “Sorry that happened though…sucks.”
“She ended it–” that has your own brows shooting up in disbelief. Kim Mingyu got dumped? “–over the phone, she decided she wanted to stay home for a while to figure out what she wanted to do. Uni wasn’t cutting it for her here…”
“I mean, good for her, I guess. Hope you’re doing okay, though.”
He blows air out of his cheeks, scratching his neck. “I mean, we’re fine. Ended it on good terms.”
Seokmin’s still standing awkwardly staring at the still running ending credits for something to do. “Should we get food?”
“I don’t know, are you hungry?” Mingyu asks.
“How is the heartburn not getting to you yet? You basically emptied the country’s dairy reserves in a single popcorn serving,” you grumble.
“Don’t underestimate my ingestional abilities,” he retorts.
Mingyu stares for a moment. “Aren’t you lactose intoletrant or something?”
Seokmin turns to him, mouth open as he points his finger, “You know, I might be.”
“No you aren’t, if you were lactose intolerant then I’d be lactose intolerant,” you shoot.
“Explain the empty can of air freshener in the bathroom after queso and chips?”
“Have you considered during queso and chips that queso is a dip and not an optional beverage?”
Mingyu’s cutting between you two before you can go on with your bickering, afraid he’d have to physically peel you off of each other if it goes on, “Let’s just go to a drive thru, you can get your lactose or…non lactose options however you like.”
That’s how you’re shoved into the backseat of Mingyu’s car, Seokmin fiddling with the GPS to find the nearest McDonalds.
“How do you not know where the nearest McDonald’s is, you live here,” Mingyu hisses as he takes his fourth right turn in a row.
“We always just order in, who sits in a car and goes to McDonalds.”
“Us apparently,” you lowtone to Mingyu from the back, picking at a crusty flower that you found in between the seats. They ignore you.
“Okay, I think it’s this one. Dude, get a new GPS, this one responds after fifty years, of course it’s gonna take this long.”
Their own bickering is starting to zone out into a buzz in your ears as you stare at a patch of leather behind Mingyu’s seat. You vaguely considered that you’re falling asleep.
The streetlight has other plans, however, when you sense something glinting in the sudden light underneath the seat. Your interest is piqued, moving forward to see what it was. Mingyu senses you shifting and asks you what you’re doing.
You don’t answer him as you shuffle around to catch sight of it again. And then you see it, a tiny necklace on the slightly dirty mat, a circle charm with a single ‘J’ in the center. You aren’t sure why you froze at the sight, the gold glinting prettily even in the dark. Leaving it there, you emerge from under the seat, trying to seem nonchalant.
“Nothing. Thought I saw something.”
Mingyu’s common occurrence in the bookstore is starting to concern you, never catching him as the type to read something other than the occasional bad riddles on the back of a cereal box. You stand corrected however, as you find yourself trying to find a hardcover for him on the computer system, mumbling incoherently.
“Never knew you read.”
“Well, now you do. This one’s really good though, you should read it too.” He notes, motioning towards the paperback version he brought with him for the book he’s finding.
You snort at his suggestion. “Have you realised this is one of the most popular books in its genre right now? Hard to find someone who hasn’t read it.”
He frowns at the revelation, “Oh. None of my friends read it.”
Seokmin hasn’t opened a book for recreational purposes since he was twelve. As for his other friends…they didn’t exactly seem like the smart type either. You get up to move to the shelf the computer’s indicated, trying to walk off your annoyance at a particular memory before it begins to show. Mingyu follows you in your pursuit to find his book, skimming the shelves himself as he strolled behind you.
“Oh, right, how’s that exhibition thing going? Forgot to ask about it,” you ask as you spot the box of the hardcovers at the top of the shelf. You grab the ladder that rests near the wall as he answers.
“It’s going pretty good, nearly done. I just need to send the final pieces over – what’re you doing?”
You grunt as you begin to climb up the metal ladder, trying to get to the box. “Getting your book, genius.”
“Wait–” He moves to grab the ladder at the base as he watches you step higher. “Get down! I’ll go up instead.”
“You get cold feet at the bottom of an escalator, be serious, Mingyu,” you grunt as you pull the box towards yourself, the ladder shaking with the force it takes, and it has Mingyu gripping the metal tighter. You pull the familiar cover out before closing the box back up. “There.”
“Why would you keep supposed bestsellers there, isn’t this like, in demand?” He grumbles as he continues to hold the ladder as you climb back down.
“Ran out. Need to restock them at the front, but I’ll do that tomorrow.” You huff as you jump the last step, earning a loud yelp from Mingyu.
“Chill out,” you chuckle as he puts the ladder away. “Okay, do you want me to look at anything else for you?”
“What would you recommend for my next imaginary adventure?” he asks as he picks out a random book from the shelf, trying to find the blurb.
“Not that one.” You scrunch your nose at the sight.
“This one I know is popular. What’s wrong with it?” He chuckles as he puts it back.
“Don’t believe everything you see on the internet,” you call out as you walk back to the front.
“And believe you instead?”
Oh, you wish.
Picking up your current read from the front of the store, you wait for him to reach the end of the opening where you stand to hand it to him.
“You can decide that for yourself. Haven’t finished it yet, but it looks super promising. Try it out if you want.”
He barely looks over the glistening title before handing it back to you, and you nearly assume he didn’t want it.
“Ring both of them up,” he says, and then with a pause he continues, “And anything else you think is good too, I don’t really care.”
Deciding you’d test the waters with this first recommendation, you only cash him in for two. He doesn’t question it as you do your job behind the desk, making casual conversation as he waits for you to find the right barcode.
“How far are you with that one?”
“The one I gave you? Just touched chapter 20, I think.”
He only hums in response as he pays, grabbing the bag that you push towards him.
“Let me know how you like it,” you comment before he begins to turn to leave.
“‘Course.” He grins, and you can't help but grin right back. He leaves you in the store with a slight heat coming up to your cheeks, and a wad of gum in your mouth to keep your stomach in check.
By the time the next day rolls around, it’s been nearly 24 hours before you hear from him again, his contact seemingly only ever gracing you within the walls of the bookstore – except he isn’t physically here. Mingyu texts you, and you nearly fall out of your chair at the sight of his name on your phone.
It’s near embarrassing how quickly you pick up your phone, passcode going wrong once, twice, thrice…you decide it’s the top five worst times your phone’s refused face ID. You’re slamming your fingers onto the screen harder than you should, watching the warp in the pixels at the pressure. By the time it does open its secrets for you, the annoyance has settled. Not at him though.
[Mingyu]: hey
[Mingyu]: i got to chap 20
[You]: what
[You]: how
[Mingyu]: started reading when i got home
[Mingyu]: and then i got to 20
[Mingyu]: i think i pulled an all nighter
[You]: you think?
[You]: was it that good
[Mingyu]: couldnt put it down
[Mingyu]: i wanna talk about it but my eyes are closing
[You]: you know where to find me when you wake up
The typing ellipses don’t pop up after that, and you assume for the better that he’s succumbed to his afternoon drowsiness. If he was serious about that all nighter (which you don’t doubt, no way he could’ve plowed through twenty chapters and gotten any sleep), you assume he’ll be knocked out for at least the rest of the afternoon.
Smiling to yourself at the thought of him wanting to text you about your matching achievements (and actively pushing your mind away from the blessed image of a napping Mingyu), you find yourself scrolling up the conversation, trying to remember the last time Mingyu had texted. That was easy to find out as the short scroll past the sparing details from your photography adventures landed you straight into late last year, a sparse conversation regarding your brother’s whereabouts when he wouldn’t answer his phone.
You remembered the conversation. As mundane and ordinary as it was, it was difficult to forget the way your hands were shaking as you typed your one word replies, how your breathing was coming out uneven at a mere text back. You could argue there was less of that this time round, proud of yourself for learning to control your emotions better.
There’s a train of thought that leads you to every recent interaction you’ve had with him. The conversations where you could look him in the eye, your relative indifference when he would show up unannounced, the disappearance of the wad of emotions in your stomach at the mere mention of his name.
The latter may be slightly untrue, but you can't help but note how the ounces of fear within the concoction is gone. You were never quite sure what it was that you were so afraid of, perhaps the fateful night at Seungcheol’s party had answered that question for you, but still.
“Seok’s not the type to beat me up if I dated his sister. And besides…” He sighs, halting his words.
“Besides what?” Somebody chimes in.
“I’m not interested in going after someone who’s chased my tail for the past fifteen years.”
Despite telling yourself it was the alcohol talking, maybe even a couple puffs of whatever — the mild disappointment remains. Thinking about the weeks following that, the moping and the hurt, you almost don’t blame Mika for acting the way that she did.
Your brother had always been oblivious to all the frolicking in your heart that would ignite as Mingyu would enter the room, and for over a decade at that. And yet, it was during those weeks that he had noticed you acting like you had been dumped, asking you what on earth was wrong with you.
“Did somebody say something to you?” he asks.
“Huh?” you frown, annoyed at the way he's planted himself directly in front of the cabinet that held your beloved moonpies.
“You’re acting like you’ve been rejected by the love of your life. Nayeon’s not telling me anything and you’re being avoidant, what is up with you?” He huffs, hands on his hips.
Oh, if only he knew how right he was. But you weren’t upset because the love of your life rejected you (anymore, at least), you were upset because he was a public asshole.
It takes more coaxing from him to get you to start talking. It’s easier when he brings out the big guns: “D’you want me to tell mom?”
You tell him a little, not naming any names, much to his dismay. “Some guy was an ass, something about me being too easy or whatever.”
“You’re upset because some drunk dude decided to run his mouth?” He scrunches his nose at the thought. “Ignore him, he’s stupid.”
“Thanks for the help, I’m cured,” you deadpan, pushing him aside to get to the gold inside the cabinets.
“I could get Mingyu to help me beat him up, I just need a name.”
Oh. You briefly wonder how he'd feel if he had to beat up his best friend.
More than his attempts to sound like a cool older brother, the image of Mingyu beating himself up brings you more amusement than anything else. You crack a smile at the thought.
That was months ago, yet you can’t seem to forget the hurt. Trying to shake off where your thoughts were taking you, you get up to take a walk around the store for something to do, fixing microscopic displacements on the shelves and wondering if you should restock something, only to realize you’d already done that when you came in, not wanting to whip out the ladder again to restock the ones you'd just landed from.
Landing inevitably back behind the counter, you instinctively reach for the book wedged beside the computer. Your outstretched hand stops midway, thinking about how Mingyu’s reached as far as you in the story quite literally overnight. Retracting your hand, you decide you’d wait.
The bell chimes signaling a customer, and you find yourself grateful for the distraction.
It’s nearing 8:30 when you decide you should close early. It was slower than usual today, the few walk-ins leaving without purchases too hefty, rendering you bored in your seat for most of the day. You’re locking the drawers of the main desk when Mingyu walks in with the familiar tune of the bell chiming, soft smile as he greets you quietly.
“How was your nap?” you ask, trying not to giggle at his still dazed expression.
“Pretty good, didn’t wanna wake up though.” His voice remains relatively coarse, and you don’t miss the light indent on his left cheek. It’s endearing, enough to have you wishing you could cup his face in a loving squish.
But you don’t.
“You don’t say,” you comment. Pointing at your own cheek as you continue, “You sure you don’t wanna take the night off too?”
“Fuck,” he whispers as he looks down to fumble for his phone to see for himself in his front camera. The puffiness hasn’t gone away entirely, evident when he’s frowning and looking downwards, and the urge to squeeze comes hurtling back.
“Did you drive like this?”
“Uh, no, I walked.”
“Walked?” You try to comprehend if that was even more dangerous. He only nods. “Why?”
“Wanted to see you.”
It takes effort to not clutch your chest at the way your heart leaps. Kim Mingyu, you bastard.
“Had to talk about the book.”
Your voice comes out a little more breathless than you’d like, but you hope his drowsiness skips over it. “You could’ve texted.”
He pauses as he mulls it over. “I mean, yeah…I don’t know. I just put my shoes on and came here.”
You decide you’d spare him the brain power and continue your remaining closing duties, talking to him as you move around the store.
“We can take my car to my place, better than getting distracted here.”
He only nods in response. “Do you want any help?”
“Nope, just need to turn off the lights and lock the doors. Let me grab my bag.”
By the time you’re home, an XL pizza and drinks in your arms to satiate Mingyu’s post nap ravenous tendencies, you drop down on the couch with a huff. Seokmin hears the ruckus and appears from his room, not wasting time to break on the pizza with Mingyu as you leave to freshen up. By the time you settle with your own slice it seems as though Mingyu has roused himself significantly more than before.
“Okay,” you huff as you land on the soft cushioning, “What did you think about the book?”
“Hard to believe this is her first book, it’s really good.”
“Her world building is amazing, some of the best I’ve read.”
Your back and forth discussion grows increasingly passionate, forgetting the fact that your brother was also right there excluded from the conversation. His head shifts back and forth as the both of you converse, utterly lost. It would’ve been funny, except neither if you were actually looking at him.
He manages to get a word in as one of you pauses for breath. “Since when do you read?”
Mingyu gapes at the question, seemingly trying to find an answer. “Recently.”
“Why?”
“What do you mean why? I just wanted to start reading,” he scoffs in a manner that could be described as exaggerated. If he’s trying to throw Seokmin off his scent, he’s succeeded, as he watches Seokmin get up and announce that he has work to do. That leaves the both of you alone.
The conversation takes you into the late hours of the night, Mingyu’s prior nap releasing him from the chains of reasonable sleeping hours as he remains wide awake despite the 3 AM time on the dial. You manage to keep up with him, even when he follows you to the kitchen to brew a coffee.
“Do you usually work this hard just to make coffee?” he asks as he watches you discard the used espresso puck.
“We have a bottle of the instant stuff here somewhere for when I’m lazy,” you explain as you pour the fresh shots into the prepped ice and milk. “Doesn’t taste the same though.”
“Coffee is coffee,” he says as he stirs the drink you push towards him.
“Quite the contrary. Besides, the instant stuff fucks with my stomach, I’d rather not.” You take a sip of your coffee, glancing at the sink. “Will say, hate everything I have to wash afterwards.”
“I’ll do ‘em later, gotta pay you back for all the manual labour that went into this thing,” he refers to the latte he’s sipping on currently.
“The appreciation is enough. We can make Seok do them in the morning for being a loser and going to bed early,” you snort. Mingyu laughs at that, the image of Seokmin doing dishes while the both of you sleep in.
“You sure you don’t wanna call it a night?” he asks you as you place yourself on the kitchen counter.
“I’m having fun, Mingyu, seriously. I’m off tomorrow too, I don’t have to wake up,” you reassure for the nth time.
He doesn’t reply, only stares up at you from his leaned position. He’s chewing on his lip, and you find yourself unconsciously chewing at your own, the already raw skin stinging at the abrasion. Mingyu’s hands come up to your face slowly, like he knew it was hurting as he pulls your bottom lip to release it with his thumb.
“You’re gonna bleed,” he whispers. His hand that grasps your chin doesn’t move, rough thumb continuing to graze at your lip lightly.
“You never stopped picking at your lips, did you?” he wonders out loud, eyes trained on your mouth.
Your own hand comes to lightly grip at his forearm. He remembers your habit, picking at the skin of your lips since near middle school, getting yelled at when you had to excuse yourself from the dinner table when they would bleed.
“Old habits die hard.” Your voice is thick despite the gulp you had to take before opening your mouth.
It was true, probably too much as you continue to look at his near perfect face. The oldest habit, the hardest to die.
Mingyu drops his hand, landing it in your lap, your own hand still gripping his forearm. You aren’t sure what’s going through you as you trail your hand up further, to his wrists, to the dip of his palm, landing on his fingers. You grip his hand, tight this time.
“I’m gonna jump,” you whisper, and you feel his grip tighten around yours as he braces to support you off the counter.
You face him in silence, contemplating, “It’s hot in here, let’s go back out.”
He watches as you pick your cup off the counter and leave, not waiting for him to follow you. He finds himself trying to take deeper breaths, stalling, but not for long as he joins you back on the couch.
It probably came as a shock to both of you the first time Mingyu announced his leave much earlier in the night, when you stopped him, asking him to stay. It was silent for a few sparing moments as you both absorbed what had come out of your mouth, trying to make sense of it. You found yourself needing to coax him a little more to convince him he wasn’t overstaying his visit, that you were having fun. He sits back down, warning you that this was going to be a long night.
You don’t think you could ever forget the absolute somersault your stomach performed, the after effects leaving you still as a plank.
It was a long night indeed. And yet, when you found your eyes closing after a fight, much later on the couch with a large blanket shared between the both of you, Mingyu watches you doze off while leaning on the couch facing him, wishing the night was longer.
If you were awake, you probably would’ve found yourself agreeing.
There’s a lot Mingyu has to learn about himself. He’s reminded of the fact nearly everyday. Especially right now as Seokmin runs his mouth sitting with him at a secluded booth in some bar.
They had company, a couple guys joining them for dinner before leaving not too long after. That left him and a slightly tipsy Seokmin alone, who’s currently munching on a platter of crackers in front of him. He was bright enough, the energy from the others keeping him going as they played their drinking games and ate their obnoxious amounts of food. It was alot more somber with only the both of them left, his mood deflating as their friends slowly dwindled in number. That wasn’t about to stop him from ordering another beer though.
“Summer’s so boring,” he grumbles in dejection, flicking a stray crumb off the table.
“You chose to stay here,” Mingyu replies.
Seokmin doesn’t answer him, but continues to look like a kicked puppy, a slight pout forming on his face.
Mingyu fights the urge to scoff, “You can’t possibly be this upset about summer being depressing.”
“It’s not about that.”
Mingyu takes a swig of his own drink before sighing loudly, “What’s this about then?”
Seokmin says your name, and Mingyu is suddenly very interested. “She just seems to be doing a lot better since she started working at the bookstore.”
“Better?”
“She told me about this guy a couple months ago.”
Mingyu’s trying really hard to not look visibly deflated, not that Seokmin would notice considering his state, but he attempts to sound nonchalant regardless. “Do we know him?”
“I – no, that’s not,” he huffs in exasperation, “She said she overheard him, basically calling her easy.”
“Easy?”
“I don’t know, something about her chasing his tail or whatever, she won’t tell me who it is. She hadn’t been doing too great recently and I’m pretty sure it was because of him.”
It is dawning on Mingyu, embarrassingly slowly, that the guy Seokmin is talking about — may be him.
His voice is hoarse, a little frantic. “And she’s doing better, you said?”
“Oh yeah, the bookstore’s been amazing for her. Not sure how though, ‘cause she just sits there doing nothing for hours.”
He can’t bring himself to meet Seokmin’s eyes, remnants of his memories flurrying around in his brain in an attempt to figure out what other bullshit he had spewed that day. He was sure you weren’t there, you couldn’t be.
“Maybe doing nothing was what she needed.” Mingyu’s reply is whatever came to him off the top of his head, mind still racing.
“Hm, I guess. I was trying to get her to tell me, we could’ve chopped his dick off together,” Seokmin grumbles.
Mingyu winces slightly, eyes tight shut as he pinches the bridge of his nose. There’s a protective hand that subconsciously reaches his crotch area. “Yeah, yeah totally.”
“Fucker got let off easy, he should be happy she’s doing good.” Seokmin continues to ramble, voice getting increasingly louder.
“Yeah…”
“She’s not easy. My sister isn’t easy at all! Running after his tail, my ass! She doesn’t need some motherfucker with bad hair to be running his mouth, drunk as a bitch.” He stabs a single chopstick into the spare piece of meat on his plate, and the force has Mingyu flinching slightly.
“How do you know he has bad hair?” Mingyu continues to stare at the impaled piece of beef that Seokmin brings to his mouth.
“I don’t need to know a motherfucker to know he uses shitty hair gel.”
Mingyu may try to run his hair gel past Seokmin at some point. But right now, he’s only trying to make it out of the bar with his sex organs intact.
“Hey, we’re past this, remember? She’s doing great right now and that’s all that matters.” Mingyu sounds overly flustered, but he can’t bring himself to care as he attempts to reign in an angry Seokmin. They were garnering looks, and the last thing he wanted was to get kicked out before they had paid.
Seokmin is still huffing and puffing, but significantly less so as he finds reason in Mingyu’s words. “I’m gonna find out who he is.”
“You hate living in peace.”
“My sister’s hasn’t had any peace because of this dickwad, I’m—”
“OKAY! Okay, got it. We’ll figure that out when you’re sober.” Mingyu rises from his own seat as he finds Seokmin lifting his own butt off his chair in a near war cry.
He manages to fend him off, waving for the bill before he has to pull him back from aimlessly marching to whoever’s house he had in mind. He calms down as they wait for the check, finishing the remaining scraps on the table in silence.
Seokmin seems nearly back to his regular self after a few minutes, forehead creases smoothing over during his cool down time. He speaks, except this time it’s in a more socially acceptable manner.
“Hey, I’ve been noticing, you and her have been getting pretty close lately. I don’t know, it’s just, I woke up and saw both on the couch and —”
“Here’s your bill!” The waiter cuts him mid sentence, placing the check on the table.
Mingyu knew what Seokmin was getting to, and he was thanking every star in the galaxy for bringing the waiter into their lives at that exact moment. He’s quick to fuss over the glossy piece of paper, humming and making comments at their purchases to fill in any silent opportunities to let Seokmin continue. Mingyu’s slips his card in the wallet.
“It’s on me,” he announces as he flashes a quick smile to the waiter. “You can cut a ten for yourself.”
“Wait, what — let’s split, what’s wrong with you?” Seokmin jolts up as registers what’s happening a little too late.
“It’s fine, you can pay for the next one.” He says as he shifts around the table to look for his phone. “You should probably go to bed too, it’s getting pretty late. Sleep off the beer and whatnot.”
Seokmin is left speechless as Mingyu gets up, grabbing his stuff.
“Wait, your card—” Seokmin starts.
“Is here,” Mingyu spews a quick ‘thanks’ to the waiter, waving his card in front of Seokmin so he’d finally stand the fuck up.
“Do I need to drag you out of that chair, let’s go!” he says, grabbing Seok by the arm to lift him off his seat. It was nearly funny how he couldn’t get him to stay within the vicinity mere minutes ago and now is begging for him to get up.
By the time Mingyu’s jamming Seok’s key into your apartment, he’s tired of his endless rambling. He can only appreciate his drunk brain for not bringing up the last question he tried asking him. He’s opening the door, urging Seokmin to walk inside, slapping him awake from his nap against the wall.
Mingyu deems it best to physically put him in bed for the furnitures’ sake, pushing him in front to lead him to his room. Mingyu’s spent by the time he’s done and Seokmin is snoring, his back cracking from the hunched position he’s kept from tucking him in and taking his shoes and jacket off.
He tiptoes out (despite knowing it’d take a marching band to wake him up at that point), closing the door as quietly as possible.
“What’re you doing here?”
Mingyu nearly jumps out of his skin, landing a mile as he hears your voice in the dark hallway, hand coming up to his heart. “Jeez— announce yourself, would you?”
“In my own house?” you raise an eyebrow.
“Just—” he waves you off as he comes round, standing straight. “I was putting Seok to bed.”
You inhale sharply. “Did you drink?”
“Me? No, but he’s knocked out right now, he’s probably gonna need a pill in the morning,” he replies.
“Hm, I’ll see to it in the morning, or whenever it is that he wakes up.”
“Yeah.” Mingyu is standing awkwardly in front of you in the dark hall, not having anything else to say. “I’ll get going now.”
“Oh, right, yeah. Get some sleep,” you say as you let him move past you.
“You too, don’t know why you’re awake,” he chuckles quietly.
“Couldn’t sleep, I’ll go to bed now though.”
The awkwardness is painful, Mingyu can feel it in his chest. But what he’s feeling more is the way you look in your night shirt now that you’re in the light of the living room, legs shown farther up than you’d usually let them go. He wonders if you're wearing shorts underneath, but slaps himself out of it when he realises he’s been silent for too long.
“Uh yeah, I’ll go now. Goodnight.”
“Goodnight, Mingyu.”
Mingyu replays the last five minutes in his head the entire car ride home, when he’s changing out of his clothes, when he’s brushing his teeth, when he crawls under the warm covers to finally call it a night. Mingyu thinks about what he said all those months ago at a dumb party, how he’s hurt you more than he thought he had. There’s an ache that plunges into him, the thought of you going through that because of him while he stayed blissfully unaware.
He doesn’t know what he’s gonna do to make it up to you, but right now, he’s happy. Happier than he’s been in a while, falling asleep to the thought of you.
“Goodnight, Mingyu.”
You, on the other hand, are far from happy as you find yourself in yet another car related predicament.
Having to run to work in the middle of July is never a preferred option, yet you find yourself needing to do it anyway when you walk out to your engine refusing to start.
You really needed a new car.
Abandoning the hunk of what was turning out to be just expensive scrap metal, you rile other options out in your head.
Seokmin was long gone with his car. The bus was gonna take too long. No way in hell were you about to overpay a taxi to take you somewhere that was essentially just a 15 minute walk (read as run).
So you find yourself slinging your bag as a crossbody, thanking the heavens that you at least didn’t need to change your shoes. You pray for your white sneakers as you run across town, blurting apologies to passerbys that would gape at your hurried form. As apologetic as you were, it didn’t compare to how sorry you felt for yourself, the heat pricking your skin in an agitated rise anytime you’d slow down.
The AC is near heavenly as you gasp walking into the bookstore, red faced and hair sticking to your forehead.
“Sorry,” you gulp frantically. “Sorry, I’m late.”
“Oh god,” you hear your boss comment as she sees you walk in. “Are you alright?”
“Yeah, I just need a minute. Car broke down.”
She ushers you in front of the AC, waiting for you to collect yourself before taking her leave.
“I think I’m okay now, sorry about that.” Your chuckle comes out a little choked. So much for being convincing.
“You really should get a new car. I have a friend who’s daughter is selling hers, do you want me to ask them for you?” She’s patting your shoulder as she talks to you, and you recognize her courage to look past the sweat that’s accumulated there.
“That’d be great actually, thank you.”
Your second blow of the day comes right after you’ve finally gotten rid of the buckets of sweat on your body, seating yourself behind your desk to do some digging of your own.
You immediately wish you hadn’t as soon as you open the first second hand market site, the price tags landing you somewhere between never happening and impossible. Groaning, you place your head in your hands as you try to think of what to do. You pray your boss would come back with a quote that isn’t as outrageous as everything else you’ve cursed your eyes upon, seeing as that seemed the only viable option for you.
Closing the windows off your computer, you decide this was a headache for another time. You reach for your bag to rummage through it, only to find yourself in your third predicament of the day.
You had forgotten your book.
It shouldn’t have been a worry, considering you were in a bookstore and had access to about 56 more of the same edition that you could borrow for the day. Except it was a worry, because your copy had been religiously tabbed and annotated as you would read, not a single thought left to be forgotten in your head as they would spring up. You can almost see the pink cover sitting on your desk and you nearly begin to cry.
You wonder if you could break your ‘one book at a time’ streak for the sake of it, picking up another one off the shelf to start. The thought nearly makes you gag, the anxiety of losing interest in your current one leading you to sit aimlessly at your desk for the rest of the day.
What’s even more anxiety inducing to you, however, was the promise you’d made with Mingyu the week prior, to be finished with the book by the end of today so you could finally decide whether the end was worth it or not. The thought has you nearly picking up a copy off the shelf anyway, annotations be damned. Force of habit, however, forbids you as you are shunned by yourself to play solitaire for the rest of the day.
Things seem to look up for you though, as you find yourself reading a text from Mingyu nearly halfway through your day.
You hadn’t spoken to Mingyu at all for the entire week, caving when you found an excuse to finally talk to him to ask where he’d left off on the book. It was even longer before that, reaching the near three week mark where you were virtually zero contact.
You’d be lying if you said it didn’t bother you, his sudden absence raising a mild panic within you as your mind raced with the possibilities.
Was he uncomfortable with you?
Was he avoiding you?
Were you less low key than you thought? Was he catching on to how you still weren’t over him?
The wilder thoughts seemed to be laid to rest when you couldn’t take it anymore, texting under the guise of your mutual book topic. Your brain still couldn’t handle it, picking up minuscule details in his texting behavior. Perhaps his replies were choppy, perhaps they were shorter than usual, but it was enough to give your mind the rest it needed regardless of whatever the facts were.
Needless to say, you were more than happy to receive a text from him first after weeks, immediately replying.
[Mingyu]: hey
[Mingyu]: are you at work today?
[You]: yeah
[You]: i get off at 10 tho
[Mingyu]: can i see you today?
You try to contain the growing flurry of excitement as you type. It was easier to stay casual over text, you find yourself appreciating.
[You]: course
[You]: are you coming to the store?
[Mingyu]: i’ll meet you at your place when you get off
[You]: okay!!!
[You]: see you then
There’s a ghost of a smile on your face as you switch to playing computer chess in celebration. Your day was going horribly, but perhaps it was to balance out the happiness you were feeling at the thought of seeing Mingyu in person after nearly a month.
Were you being dramatic? Possibly. But you figured you’d been left waiting long enough. You let yourself have a spring in your step for the rest of the day, closing up nearly an hour early as you practically skipped back home, enjoying the significantly better nightly weather. Maybe you were abusing your employee privileges, but you couldn’t take the anticipation anymore.
Humming to yourself, you're hopping into the shower as soon as you get home, wanting to freshen up as quickly as possible before he gets here. It was near heaven’s plan the way the day is unfolding for you. Perhaps the universe knew you needed the time to unwind today, bringing Mingyu to you despite the near four week gap.
Grabbing your pens and your book, you settle on the kitchen counter to do something you’d been looking forward to all day, nearly giddy that Mingyu would be joining you to wind down with you soon enough. You’re invested by the time the doorbell rings, a simultaneous text from Mingyu, confirming that he was at the door.
Opening the front door is probably the easiest thing you’ve done all day, grin at the ready as you greet him.
“Hey,” you breathe out at the sight of him.
“Hi,” he replies, slipping inside as you give him space to take off his shoes.
Leading him into the kitchen, you comment lightheartedly, “Nice to see you’re still alive.”
He chuckles slightly at that, “Yeah…sorry about that. I’ve been pretty caught up with…stuff.”
“The exhibition? Weren’t you nearly done with that?” you question as you pass him a glass of water.
He takes a sip before setting it down again, both hands holding the cup on the counter. “It wasn’t that, I’ve been done for a while. Just waiting.”
“It’s next week, isn’t it?”
He hums in response, taking another minuscule sip of water.
“What was it that was keeping you this occupied for so long then?” you continue with a slight snort, trying not to over analyze his slightly…off putting behavior.
“Uh,” he starts, “Is Seokmin home?”
“Seokmin?” you frown, confused. Was he here to see your brother? “He’s out. I thought you knew.”
“Yeah, I know. Just confirming.”
“Oh.” You sit down on your own chair at the counter, trying to make sense of his mood.
“Mingyu, are you okay—”
“I need to talk to you.”
“O-okay.”
It’s silent. Painfully so.
“I don’t know how else to bring this up so I’m just gonna cut to the chase.”
There’s no reply from your end as you simply stare at him in anticipation, wondering what on earth had him looking this serious as he faces you in his seat.
“I know I’ve done a lot to hurt you. Never enough to match what you’ve felt, but I know you’ve been through the muck because of me, and it makes me feel horrible that I was the cause of something like that.”
“Mingyu—“
“I want to apologize, before I say anything else. I’m sorry. I’m so fucking sorry. And I know an apology isn’t gonna take away what I did to you, but I just need you to know that I’m really, really sorry.”
His breathing is heavy as he talks, while yours is near nonexistent as you need to remind yourself to breathe manually.
“I’ve done a lot of growing up in the past year. And I hate myself for making you a subject of that transition when you were the last person that deserved it. I’m happy to say that won’t happen again, because I’ve learned my lesson. For good.”
He pauses.
“I’m not asking you to forgive me, because… because I don’t know if I’ll ever deserve it for what I’m about to say. I may be acting selfish right now but, I think you deserve to know after everything.”
“I love you. I love you so, so much it hurts. I…I’m sorry, I love you. I don’t know how else to say it but, I love you. And I might be hurting you even more with this but I swear I’m not lying. I love you.”
There’s tears now, heavy ones that drip down his face as he refuses to look back up at you, eyes screwed shut in a desperate attempt to halt the pure emotion that’s trailing down.
You have your own wet cheeks, glossy, shaking eyes that don’t tear away from his hunched form. You’re listening. You’re listening to everything and it’s too much.
“Mingyu,” you whisper. You give up on trying to talk as you let out a breath that sounds almost like a sob.
It’s silent for a few more moments as you absorb everything that’s happening, mind running a hundred miles an hour yet, still as a rock. It’s too much.
“Mingyu, I can’t believe you’re saying this to me.” Your voice is quivering, but you manage the words. “After everything. You’re standing in this very kitchen and saying this to me.”
The deja vu was overwhelming, and you’re projected back to last year when the both of you stood on these very tiles, as you poured your heart out to the man in front of you, only to be told you were an idiot to think he could ever love you like that. The words may not have been said, but the message was clear: you were not made for Kim Mingyu.
And yet, you find yourself in front of an apologetic man, expressing his remorse. And oozing love for you, of all people. Why now? You want to scream. Where was this when you were ready to take him so willingly in your arms.
You’re lying if you say you still don’t want to plant yourself in his hold to sob out your own wretched “I love you”’s. You wanted to go to him. To take what you’ve wanted for so, so long.
But you can’t. You can’t do it.
“I know,” he whispers. “I’m not asking you to do something about any of this. I’m not asking anything of you at all. I just need you to know.”
You bite back a remark, trying so hard to calm yourself down.
“I think you should go.” Your voice breaks. “Please.”
Mingyu is gone. But his scent lingers. His cup remains on the counter, the same one he put his lips to. As he prepared to speak, and speak, and speak.
You can’t stand to stay in the kitchen anymore.
You were fourteen the first time Mingyu broke your heart.
It was an accident, perhaps, considering you were willing to do absolutely anything to be around Mingyu when your brother would have him over. What you didn’t know this time, was that the both of them had company.
Tiptoeing down the hall was easy the second you heard your brother's voice coming from the kitchen, announcing that he was getting drinks for them. The plan was simple; walk in under the guise of being annoyed at Seokmin for something and then relish when Mingyu would defend you from his inevitable rage — except this time you’d have a few extra minutes alone with him before your brother trudged back.
Putting on the best annoyed face you could, you stalk past Seokmin’s room, immediately wishing you hadn’t. Mingyu was in your brother's room as expected, sitting on the floor, surrounded by papers with numbers and letters too complex. But he wasn’t alone. There was a girl that sat between his legs, turned over in his arms as they whisper to each other. They weren’t studying at all; the giggles and smiles were a dead giveaway.
You halt in your tracks at the edge of the doorway in mild disbelief, brain computing the situation in front of you. They hadn’t noticed you yet, it was apparent with the way she leans into him to place her lips on his in a peck.
There’s a yell of your name behind you as Seokmin sees you loitering around his room. You jump in surprise, not expecting him back so quickly. Your brother, too, isn’t alone, a girl of his own accompanying him with her arms full of cans, peeking over his shoulder to catch sight of your distressed form.
“What’re you doing?”
Running was the worst thing you could do, and yet you found yourself doing just that in your cornered state. Catapulting face first into your pillows, the sobs coming before you could muffle them. It was humiliating, even more so when you feel your mother’s hand coming up to your shoulder in a stretch of comfort.
“I yelled at him, he won’t do it again!” she attempted to reason with you, trying endlessly to get you to emerge from your cavern of comforters.
“It’s not that!” you groan.
“What is it then? Darling, I won’t know if you won’t tell me.”
Your mother gave up a little bit after that, and your brother had apologized for yelling at you; apologized for all the wrong reasons. You brushed him over.
There were worse things circling your mind in that moment, like the image of Mingyu in a liplock with another girl, the image of him holding her with all his limbs.
You couldn’t imagine anything worse than that.
“What the fuck, is wrong with the both of you?” Your brother swoops in like a pesky seagull and snatches the book right out of your hands, eyes blown in exasperation.
“What the fuck is wrong with you?! Give it back!” you yell, reaching for the book that he’s placed over his head. Climbing the couch does little when he simply moves away from you.
“Not until you tell me what’s going on between you and Mingyu.”
“Nothing is — ugh,” you drop back onto the couch in frustration. You take a deep breath. “Nothing is going on. Now can I have my fucking book back?”
“No, you're avoiding each other.”
“He’s your friend, why would I hang out with him?”
“Stop dodging the question!” he spits.
“Stop dodging.” You exclaim as you jump for the book another time.
“Why don’t you want to go to the exhibition?” He throws the book to the corner of the room. It takes every fiber in your body to stop yourself from plucking every strand of hair off his head.
“Seokmin!” you scream.
“Your book’s fine. Is this about the guy you told me about?” He asks, hands grabbing you by the upper arms, forcing you to look at him.
“No, it’s not,” you grit.
“Why don’t you want to go to the exhibition?” he repeats, making direct eye contact.
“Because,” you start, exhaling deeply, “I’m tired.”
“It’s an exhibition for fucks sake, an exhibition with your face plastered all over it. You go in for five minutes and you’re out. Put something on and let’s go!”
“I don’t want to go.”
“I’m not taking no for an answer. You’ve been doing nothing but go to work and stay home, you need air.”
“I need you out of my air,” you swat his hands away, thoroughly disgruntled.
“I’m giving you twenty minutes.”
He was serious, you realize as he begins to pound on your door with two minutes left to spare. You decided you weren’t about to be embarrassing and show up in your sweatpants, encasing the final shreds of dignity you had left. You couldn’t imagine being asked “who?” when the face on the walls doesn’t match with the one you brought to the place, not doubting the number of fancy scouters that’d be gracing the crowd tonight.
Opting for a plain black dress and a coverup felt enough for you, your usual makeup and matching accessories helping you feel better about the bags under your eyes your concealer couldn’t quite erase.
Seokmin says nothing for probable fear of having you landing back on the couch, choosing to ask you a simple, “Ready?” instead.
The drive is short and silent, the remnants of you and your brother's prior argument still hanging in the air. You weren’t about to apologize to each other, but you would let the hours cool you off before you’re back to your normal selves. For now, you’re glad to step out of the stuffy car, the anticipation having you needing to breathe in an elevated sense.
The place is more crowded than you thought it would be, men and women in fancier than necessary clothes loitering the entrance carpeting. You suddenly feel underdressed.
Catching Mingyu’s name is easy, the display at the front doing the most to highlight the star of the night, catching sight of him is proving a little more difficult. Not that you’re trying, but Seokmin’s embarrassing neck stretches are having you restraining yourself from pulling him down by the collar.
Walking into the display is a strange experience, for you at least. The pictures are larger than you’d thought they would be, spanning the giant walls of the gallery. Your face is huge.
There’s a few other one’s that scatter between the portraits, beautiful all the same. You find yourself wandering as you note the plaques next to the pieces, descriptions and words from the artist; Mingyu’s words. It’s easy to begin looking at the pictures through his eyes, the meticulous scanning you’re doing proving easier for you to zone out despite the crowd.
You’ve gone through nearly every picture, approaching the last one, the one that looked a little more important than the rest as you take in its size. The steps you take towards the plaque are halted as you hear someone calling for you. You recognize his voice, how could you not?
Mingyu is weaving through the crowd to get to you, eyes locked as he tries to make way for himself. Your mouth is open by the time he’s here, mind frantic as you try to figure out what you should say.
Congratulations.
You’ve worked hard on this.
This looks great.
How’ve you been?
“You’re here,” he says, simple as that.
“I’m here,” you breathe out, a nervous smile on your face as you look down at your shoes.
“Seok told me you were here too.”
Your head snaps up, “You were looking for me?”
“I mean, it’s a bit difficult with the crowd—”
“Oh,” you cut him off before you could forget. “Congratulations, by the way. The turnout looks great.”
“Uh, yeah. It’s great.” His eyes skim around the large hall.
You hate how his craning is drawing your eyes to everything else. So to say the plain black button up and slacks he’s sporting, the thin chain he wears around the unbuttoned collar. You hate how he’s put in no effort, and you hate how it makes him look even better somehow.
“Are you enjoying yourself?” he asks after he rounds back to you.
Your reply is drowned in your throat as somebody calls for him across the hall, pointing at a mic in their hands.
“I have to go address everyone, you’ll be here, right?” he asks, but he once again has no chance to listen to your answer when somebody physically drags him by the elbow and yanks him away from you. You lose sight of him in the crowd of people, his face disappearing.
It gives you enough opportunity to slowly turn around to go back to your plaque reading, exhaling loudly as you walk up to the final, biggest piece on the wall. It’s labeled as the focal point of the collection. It’s a picture of you, and for some reason, you can’t remember taking it, or posing for it at all.
You recognize the mountain top, more so the grueling trek up the place for your last shoot with him. It’s a side profile, your arms folding over the railing, face tucked into your padded arms. A single ray of light illuminates your eyes, the background soft.
The picture was an accident. A moment that may have gone forgotten, yet one that appeared right when it was meant to. A mistake made on purpose, one that manages to carry the weight of years. A slow accession of golden rays, dawn illuminating the subject in hues indescribable, except those that describe a feeling. A feeling in turn, indescribable.
Soft. Legible. New.
You take a step back.
And another
Then another.
You look at the picture, the picture of you. Taken the one time you weren’t actively posing for the camera, the one time he wasn’t meant to take a picture of you. It landed here, at the seemingly deserved position of a final piece. The piece that was meant to emulate all that the artist wanted to come out of his work.
You crane your neck up higher, the name of the collection in bold block letters right above the picture that supposedly says it all.
THE BEGINNING
There’s a ball forming in your throat, one that's cementing itself where it stays.
There’s noise happening in your peripherals, somebody speaking into a mic on stage. You’re not paying attention until you hear his name.
“I’m pleased to present to you the man of the hour, mister Kim Mingyu…”
You watch with glossy eyes as he takes the stand, clearing his throat before he begins to speak.
You needed to leave.
Finding Seokmin is easy, and you thank every plane of heaven that it is, considering you’d rather be caught dead than be seen red nosed and teary eyed.
“Let’s go home.”
“Huh? Right now? He just started talking.” Seokmin argues, tearing his eyes away from the stage to gape at you, only to note the expression on your face. “Hey, what’s wrong?”
“Seokmin, you said five minutes.” You grip his sleeve tight. “Please, either give me the keys, or I’ll get a cab.”
He pauses for a moment, and you immediately hate yourself for making him choose between staying for his best friend or leaving for his sister. He slowly comes down to grip your hand, pulling you away.
“Let me drop you off home.”
You’ve calmed down a significant amount during the car ride home, managing to convince (fight) Seokmin into going back to the exhibition hall before Mingyu noticed that he was gone. You wouldn’t forgive yourself if you made him miss something as important as this just because you couldn’t control your emotions.
He hugs you at the door, tight, and you hug back just as strong, holding back the river of tears that suddenly threaten to let loose. He presses his lips to your temple, muttering a little ‘I love you’ before he leaves. He knew nothing, yet was ready to comfort you like he did.
You let yourself sob after that, as wracking and strong as they’d come. It’s freeing, to fall to your knees and simply cry like a child. You aren’t sure what it is that you’re crying about, yet you know all the same. The thought of both those things make your head begin to spin, causing another fresh wave of tears to come rushing down.
Remnants of the day Mingyu spoke his truth to you in your own kitchen come tumbling back; the shock, the anger, the hurt, and despite everything, the love.
You loved Mingyu, you weren’t going to sit here and deny it when you were a mess of jewels on the floor with only his face at the forefront of your mind. You’re a liar if you say you don’t love him. You’re a liar if you say you’ll ever stop.
Years and years of pining and wishing and praying, to hope that one day, Mingyu would open his eyes with the realization that he loves you the same.
The day came. Your prayers were granted, your wishes came true; you no longer had to sit on the sidelines as an ignored constant. And yet, you found yourself wanting to be anywhere but in his presence as the prayer unfolded.
Were you too weak to handle reciprocation? Have you gotten comfortable pining by yourself? Or was it something completely else. Were you still hurt by his words? Were you aghast at his audacity to have the courage to speak his heart to you, when you went years without doing so?
Were you protecting yourself? Or were you actively throwing the golden chance you’d received right out the window?
You’re tired, it’s evident with the effort it takes you to simply reach your bedroom, heels thrown somewhere in the doorway as you made the trek barefooted. Hoping your muscles would release the pent up tension at the learnt feeling of the mattress, you find yourself closing your eyes awaiting the relief.
Still clad in your dress and makeup, you attempt to find the solace of sleep, knowing you’d feel nothing if there was nothing to perceive. The universe doesn’t seem to want to give you that luxury, your eyes wide awake despite closed lids. The thoughts aren’t showing signs of slowing down either, every part of your mind alive as you remain still as a rock on your bed.
You aren’t sure how long you’ve been in bed, but as you hear the distinct jingle of keys in a lock, you know Seokmin is home. The door of your room is opened very quietly, and closed just as quick when he sees your form in bed seemingly asleep.
You open your eyes for the first time in hours, the darkness remaining as you slowly sit up against the cushions. Your movements are sluggish as you stare into the abyss, brain quiet for once as you swing your bare legs over the mattress, slowly trudging down the hall to your brother's bedroom.
Knocking slowly, you hear a slight shuffle before the door is opened, the light from inside the room illuminating the dark hall and forcing you to squint.
“Did I wake you?” Seokmin asks, sporting formal trousers with his dinosaur pajama shirt.
“Uh, no, I was awake.”
“Why haven’t you changed yet?”
You ignore him, cutting straight to the chase, “Can I borrow your car?”
There’s silence for nearly three seconds before Seokmin speaks, “What on earth do you need my car for this late at night?”
“Nayeon’s”
“Bullshit.”
You let out a loud, loud sigh, “Will you believe it for now?”
Your brother looks at you with an expression you can’t really pinpoint, eyes like he’s scanning into your soul. “The keys are at the door.”
You walk back to your room to grab your phone and your cover up, not bothering to change as you grab Seokmin’s keys and leave. It probably wasn’t a good idea to leave the house so late at night, but your brain seems to have activated tunnel vision as you nearly stalk towards the car. You’re pulling up to where you need to be within minutes, the empty roads leading you on near autopilot.
By the time you’re standing in front of the door, your desire to settle this once and for all turns pungent in your head. You needed to end this one way or another, you were tired of running in circles.
Ringing the doorbell is easy, it’s just the realization that settles during those few moments of waiting that grab you by the throat. You were really doing this.
Mingyu opens the door quicker than you’d anticipated, after briefly wondering if he’d already gone to sleep after the long day he’s probably had. His brows furrow as he registers you at his door, your name tumbling out of his lips in mild confusion. He’s still in the clothes you saw him last, and you doubt it’s been long since he got home too.
“Promise me you mean it,” you say.
“What?”
“Promise me you mean it.”
“Mean what?” The crease between his brows deepens as he tries to make sense of what you’re saying.
“Whatever you said. Promise me you mean it. Promise me. On all the years we spent together, on every truth you've ever said to me. Promise on me that you mean it.”
The silence is deafening, yet you wait. You wait for him to respond. You wait for him to understand what you’re saying.
Mingyu gulps before opening his door wider, expression neutralizing slightly as he invites you inside. “Why're you standing on the door? Come inside.”
“I’m not taking another step in your direction, Kim Mingyu, not until you answer me,” you snap.
Letting his hand leave the grip on the door, he brings them both up to rub at his face, taking a simultaneous breath, deep and shaky. When he emerges his eyes are showing a hint of red as he licks his lips.
Your grip on your own fingers tighten as Mingyu talks.
“I want to rip my heart out for what it wants from you. I want to rip it out for what it did to yours. Believe me when I say I’ve forgotten how it felt to be this sincere. I love you. I don't deserve to say it, but I love you.”
There’s a beat that passes, one that you barely feel as you throw your bag on the floor of his entryway, grabbing him by the collar with both hands as you yank his face down to hover right in front of yours, nose touching, lips not quite.
“If you’re lying to me,” you whisper, shaky voiced, “I’m gonna chop your balls off.”
Mingyu answers for you as he finally, finally closes the cursed gap between you, lips capturing yours in a long awaited kiss. You let him pull you inside as you move your lips against each other, the distinct click of the door signaling you were finally inside.
His hands grip your hips and waist in a manner that’s near painful, yet you can’t find yourself complaining even as he pushes you against the now closed door, hard. His mouth leaves yours for what is barely a second, before your desperate hands move his face back in to continue what you’ve been wanting to do for years.
His mouth is warm, the vaguest hint of champagne on his tongue. You wonder how many toasts he’s clinked and downed, how many times he thought of you as he celebrated.
“I love you,” you mumble against his lips.
Mingyu’s hands are pushing your body against his own, so flush and tight you can barely breathe. Like he’d rather die than bring space between the two of you in that moment.
“I love you, too,” he mumbled back between kisses. “I love you so much.”
Both of your hands are beginning to roam, less innocent than the fingers tangled in his hair and digging into his shoulders, less innocent than the grips on your hips and neck. It isn’t until his hands are groping your ass that you begin to subconsciously tug at his shirt, wanting the wretched thing out of the way to finally feel him in full.
There’s a warm hand that grips yours as he stops you, lips pulling away slightly as he rests his forehead against yours. There’s a wild moment of sobriety as you wonder if you’ve read the situation wrong, if you pushed too far.
“You’re asking me for something I’m ready to give you.” He sounds breathless. “But I need to know if you really want it.”
He looks absolutely gorgeous with his swollen lips, your lipstick staining his own mouth, his messy hair from all the desperate fingers running through them. It takes one look into his bedroom eyes to have your yeses tumbling out your mouth.
“I want it. I want it if you’ll give it to me. Mingyu, please.”
He leans in to give you a soft peck before pulling away slowly. “You can stop me whenever, just say the word.”
He’s facing you as he speaks, hands pulling you further into the house in slow and steady steps. “I’m not gonna do anything you don’t want me to, I promise.”
By the time you reach the four walls of his bedroom, you’re itching to have his hands on you again, something he senses as he presses his hot mouth to your awaiting lips. His touches become decreasingly respectful as his hands run up your sides, thumbs brushing against the sides of your clothed breasts as he moves his mouth further down.
Kisses line your jaw, reaching the joint as he nips at your earlobe teasingly. Pushing the coverup off of your shoulders is easy, fingers tracing the exposed skin as his mouth moves down to your neck, nipping and sucking teasingly. Your breathing is embarrassingly heavy.
“You’re gorgeous,” you hear him breathe out.
His fingers fit under the zipper of your dress not too long after, pulling it down to reveal your back tantalizingly slow. His hands smooth over your waist once he reaches the bottom, bringing them up to your upper body as you feel his palms grab your breasts in a soft squeeze. The moan you let out is small, but enough to encourage him to bring his hands to the straps of your dress, pulling them down your shoulders one after the other.
“Do you realize how good you looked in this today,” he says. “Was so happy you came, so, so happy to see you after so long.”
Mingyu kisses you again in a slow, passionate manner, hands pushing down the tight fabric of the bodice to let it fall off your body to a pile on the floor. It leaves you bare save for your bra and panties.
Mingyu lets out a groan at the sight in the dimly lit room, the sound checking in as one of the hottest things you’ve ever heard, the vibrations leading straight to your core like they belonged there. The focus goes back to his hands that continue to roam your body, mouth traveling further south to leave hot, open mouthed kisses on your cleavage.
Your own fingers come up to fiddle with the buttons of his dress shirt, managing to pull a couple loose as you whine, “Mingyu.”
“Patience, my love.” He moves you backwards slowly as his mouth leaves your chest, pushing you into the plush of his mattress as you feel the back of your knees bump into the edge. “Let me take my time with you.”
He brings a knee up to the bed as he keeps his gaze on you, beginning to unbutton the rest of his shirt as you prop yourself up on your elbows. For once, you’re allowed to stare at the sculpt of his chest and abdomen, letting your gaze take you to the dipped V before the cut off. The mere sight of his fingers working against his belt have you needing to close your thighs for the sake of your now throbbing core.
Only clad in his dark boxers, you let him climb over you in a way you can only describe as a prowl, inserting himself between your legs as he pushes your head up to the headboard. The hand that splays out on your thigh is having the muscle twitch, the anticipation for what he might do next gripping you.
“Let me get this off of you,” he says with his hands toying with the elastic of your bra, prompting you to arch your back so he could reach under to unclasp it in a way you can only call professional.
There’s barely any time for you to feel a semblance of embarrassment when he flings the padding away, mouth coming in direct contact with your breast in a harsh suck. The feeling has you moaning his name into the dark room, only encouraging his wet tongue to circle around the bud before going back to suckling. He doesn’t forget your other breast as he brings his hand up to squeeze the mound and play with your nipples the same.
The sensations are overwhelming already, your hands gripping his hair in desperation as you throw your head back at his ministrations. The ache in your underwear is becoming increasingly difficult to resist, the foreign feeling of his mound against your inner thigh only coursing more want into your awaiting heat.
Your chest is a mess of redness and saliva but the time Mingyu’s had his fill, pulling away to admire the work he’s left.
“Fuck, Mingyu, please,” his name is the only thing that comes out in your pleas, hoping he’d give you wanted before you lost your mind for good.
“I love this lighting on you,” he says simply, moving to sit on his knees as he takes his eyes up and down your practically naked frame.
Both hands come in to push your thighs further apart, giving him better access to the gold that sits right in between. “You’re beautiful.”
You feel the pad of his thumb come in contact with your clit in the lightest pressure, slowly brushing over the muscle as he continues. “The most gorgeous thing I’ve ever seen.”
He presses his thumb in further, pushing down to meet your hole, the source of the large wet patch on the fabric of panties. The whimpers the new feeling is having you let out are near embarrassing. Hooking his fingers around your panties, he asks, “Can I take these off?”
“Yes!” you gasp out immediately, hip rising to let them slide the pesky fabric off and away.
He wastes no time in bringing his fingers to your folds, gathering your arousal in his fingers as he spreads them across your throbbing clit. He’s rubbing the area in circular motions, the feeling having you wracking out sounds you never thought you could make. The sheets are bunched up in your grip as you throw your head back at the feeling that encases you, eyes screwed shut.
“Oh, Mingyu,”
That only encourages him as his other hand joins the party, a lone finger circling your entrance in preparation to plunge into you, slowly, all the way to the hilt of his finger. Zoning in on the feeling, the pump of his fingers into your core, the constant ministrations of his other thumb on your clit. Your hands leave his wrinkled sheets as they come in to grip his wrists and forearm, needing to feel his skin to anchor yourself into the present. Not being able to bring yourself to open your eyes, he takes it upon himself to insert another finger, encouraging your lids to fly open at the stretch and the loud moan that comes with it.
“God, you’re so fucking wet, I’m barely pushing.” It may have embarrassed you a little if you weren’t so withdrawn from pleasure, the prospect only having you whimper his name even more.
It isn’t when he curls his fingers inside you that you feel the need to stifle the sounds that come out of your throat, hand to mouth as the volume has you needing to shut yourself up. He brings his hand off your clit to grab you by the wrist, freeing your mouth of restraint.
“Don’t,” his voice gravelly as he gets off his knees to hover over you, his other hand continuing to pump his fingers in and out of you in perfect motions. “I wanna hear your voice. I wanna hear all the pretty sounds you’re making.”
He leans in to place a chaste kiss on your mouth, fingers quickening their pace as your sounds grow louder, “Mingyu, I think I’m…I think I’m close.”
“It’s okay, let go whenever, darling, it’s okay.” His other hand goes back to its rightful position on your clit, thumb circling the bud in quick motions as he encourages you to climax.
And you do. The blissful release comes crashing into you hard, the feeling leaving nothing but white hot space in the expanse of your brain, letting the feeling take over as you melt into the sheets. “F-fuck…”
He doesn’t stop either hand till you physically have to push his fingers off of you, the overstimulation coming in hot.
You don’t come around for a little bit, but feel every searing kiss he leaves on your skin in the aftermath. Pressed into your chest, your collarbones, you neck and your jaw. He makes his way up to your face slowly, pressing his lips onto your closed lids as you wait for your breathing to even out. His face is the first thing you see when you open your eyes, leaning forward to press your own lips against his.
“How was that?” he asks slowly, and you don’t miss the hint of a smirk on his face. You can’t help but break into a smile of your own.
“Great.”
“Great?”
“Amazing.” You lean in to kiss him again, palms coming in contact with the expanse of his back as you move your mouths together. It’s not long before your fingers reach the waistband of his boxers, hands coming up front to feel him through the fabric, palming him in the process.
You feel him shudder in your hold, lips pulling away as he stares into your eyes.
“What?” you ask in a whisper when he makes no other moves.
“I’m trying to think if I have condoms or not,” he whispers back, and you can’t help but let out a laugh at his delivery. He begins to giggle with you, backing up as he reaches over to rummage through his nightstand.
“Fuck yeah,” you hear him say as he comes round with the shiny pack. He’s giggling as he undoes the wrapper, the lighthearted nature of it all bringing a laugh to your own lips.
Pulling his underwear down and off, you watch as he preps himself with the rubber, your own hand coming up in a trance to stroke his gorgeous length lightly, his palms ghosting over your hand at the feeling. Once he decides he can’t take it anymore he’s grabbing both your wrists to pin them beside your head in one swift motion, earning a gasp from you at the abruptness.
“I’m gonna put the tip in first, let you adjust before I go in further,” he explains as he uses his knee to push your thighs apart to grant him more access. “I’m gonna listen to you throughout, okay? Just say so if you want me to stop, I’ll hear you.”
When you don’t reply he continues, “I need to know you heard me, baby.”
“I heard you,” you answer, and he finally lets go of one of your hands to guide his length to your entrance, gathering your remaining arousal. He’s sliding his tip across your folds, grinding onto your clit within his length and it has you nearly careening off the edge.
“Mingyu, in, please!” you beg, and you hear him chuckle before he’s finally pressing the tip into your prepped hole.
You almost breathe a sigh of relief as you feel him begin to push into your hot core, keeping his promise of only getting to the tip, before bringing himself out and going back in. He’s slow as he stretches you out, his hands coming up to the sides of your head as he tucks his face into the crook of your neck. Lifting one of your legs, you wrap them around his waist as you grant him further access into you, one of his hands coming up to keep your raised leg steady.
He halts when he finally bottoms out, pausing for breath. “You okay?”
“Yeah, just,” you manage, arms wrapped around his shoulders tight. “Give me a second.”
When you give him the green light and he begins to move out slowly, only to thrust back in, you find yourself settling into the sheets more consciously, ready to take what he was about to finally give you. You’re both a mess of whimpers and sounds, the feeling overtaking any shreds of restraint you had left. His hands are groping you everywhere, his fingers finding your breasts again as he begins to toy with your nipples, all while thrusting into you at a steady yet equally maddening pace.
He feels amazing, beyond just his dick. The feeling of his body pressed against yours is heavenly, the tears beginning to slowly prick at your eyes as you let yourself melt into his hold, a metaphorical layer away from morphing into his skin entirely. The sounds he’s making are pure melodies, the groans, grunts and heavy moans floating around in your otherwise empty head like they’d never ever leave. They do more when they encourage the building feeling in your abdomen, your moans growing increasingly erratic.
If the bed is creaking from his incessant thrusting, you don’t hear it. The only thing ringing in your head being the near closure you’re about to receive from him. “Gyu, I’m…”
“Shit, me too.” he grunts, and you believe him as his movements begin to grow sloppier, his hips slamming into yours with more force than before.
And then it’s bliss, the feeling dropping in on your body as you feel yourself begin to spasm in his hold, the loudest moan ripping from your throat at the sensation. You’re contracting around him so, so good, and it’s enough to have him moaning into your own ear as he feels his climax come over him as well.
He’s shooting his load into the rubber, and for a wild moment you wish he’d rip it off and finish inside you instead, your blabbering brain wanting to take all of him in. The fever passes in a few heavy minutes, Mingyu’s body is dropped on top of you, his length remaining inside your warmth as you both relished in the post sex haze.
He’s first to pick his sweltering body off of yours, the cool air hitting your skin as he pulls out of you slowly. You’re still trying to come to earth, even when you hear the water beginning to run in the attached bathroom, even when he walks out in a fresh pair of boxers, walking over to your form on the bed.
His fingers run through your hair as he places soft kisses on your temple, coaxing you to open your eyes. “Come on babe. Let’s get you cleaned up.”
When you make no moves to get up despite opening your eyes, he’s physically pulling you up to grace your head on his chest in an effort to take a step back into the world. His fingers continue to thread through your hair, massaging your head lightly as you breathe in his scent. You do end up getting up and letting him lead you to the bathroom, but only after he threatens to carry you there over his shoulder. The bath is already drawn when you dip your feet into the warm water, planting yourself inside as you lean against the walls of the tub.
“Gyu, why is it warm?” you whine, wanting a cooler temperature to hit your sticky body.
He chuckles as he sits by the tub, hands coming in to wet your hair for you, “I’m scared your body’s gonna go into shock if I chucked you into a cold bath. You’ll feel better in a minute, love.”
You don’t argue as he does most of the work for you, shampooing, scrubbing and conditioning. He lets you sit in the tub for a little bit as he leaves to get you a towel and a shirt, coming back to continue coaxing you to leave the tub this time. You grab his outstretched hand, pulling him down to sit next to you again.
“Sit with me for a little bit, right here,” you say as you lean over the edge of the tub.
“I can sit with you in bed once you’re dried up,” he tries to reason. “Under the covers. Where it’s more comfortable than hard acrylic, remember?”
Pouting a little, you let him wrap you in a towel as you admit defeat, too tired to argue much more than that. He continues to shrug one of shirts over your shoulders, going as far as drying your hair before finally letting you crawl back under the covers. He joins you soon after, wrapping his limbs around you in a tight embrace, breathing in the mix of his own shampoo and your scent.
“Are you okay? Did I do too much?” he asks quietly.
“Mhm,” you hum into his chest. “I’m okay.”
There’s a deep vibration in his chest as he finds your lack of response amusing, looking at your face that looks about three seconds away from slipping into dreamland. Nearly, he realizes, as your eyes are suddenly pushed wide open, a gasp leaving your throat.
“What? What?” Mingyu asks as you sit up all of a sudden scrambling to find your phone.
“My phone, where is it?” you ask as you ruffle through the covers.
“Did you bring it with you?”
You suddenly remember your bag that you threw in his entryway a couple hours ago, your phone nestled inside. Swinging your legs over the edge of the bed, you attempt to stand up to retrieve it, only to find out the universe wasn’t about to let you do that. You don’t miss Mingyu’s chortle as he watches you nearly fall over after wobbling around like a fawn, your arms trembling as you pull yourself up back on the bed.
“What the fuck?” you breathe out.
“Get back on, I’ll get your bag for you.” He’s still smiling when returns, throwing your purse on the bed.
You immediately unlock your phone to find Nayeon’s contact, choosing to leave her a text considering the late hour.
“What is it?” Mingyu asks again as he watches you type, arms coming up from behind to engulf you in his hold again.
“I told Seokmin I was at Nayeon’s. He didn’t believe me but I’m telling her to cover for me anyway.”
“Oh.”
The thought comes to you later than it should have, realizing you’d have to involve Seokmin in…whatever this was, sooner or later.
“Don’t,” you hear Mingyu say behind you.
“What?”
“Don’t. I know what you’re thinking about. We can deal with Seokmin when we need to, don’t think about it right now, that’s my job.”
“I-”
“He needs to deal with me being serious about you,” he continues, giggling, “Even if I have to make you run away with me.”
“Let’s hope it doesn’t come to that.”
He brings your wrist up to his mouth, placing a kiss there, “It won’t. I promise.”
The sitting up thing doesn’t last for too long, both of you wanting nothing more than to lay down for the lack of energy. Limbs are a tangled mess as you both lay in silence, tired but not wanting to go to sleep just yet. It stays that way for a while, head on his chest as you take in the aftermath of everything that’s happened.
You just had sex with Kim Mingyu. He loves you back. And you know he means it. This isn’t a hyperrealistic childhood fantasy, this is real life. You’re touching him, he’s holding you, you can hear his heart beat, you can feel his skin under the palm of your hand.
You’re distracted from your thoughts as you sense Mingyu reaching over the edge of the bed to his nightstand as he looks for something, bringing his hand over to show you a very familiar pink cover in his hands.
“Oh,” you let out as you recognize the title, snorting as you remember where the verdict for that ended, “We were supposed to talk about the ending.”
“We could do that right now.”
“Uh, about that,” you say. “I never actually got to finish it.”
“You were supposed to be done like two weeks ago,” he frowns.
“I didn’t get to finish it the day…the day you came over. Couldn’t bring it in myself to touch it after that.” you say as you note the little tabs sticking out the sides, wanting to address them.
“You can use this one to finish it then, it’s yours.”
You glance up at him as he talks, opening the book to skim through the pages. And then you see it, tiny scribbles on margins, sticky notes at chapter ends with his thoughts, colorful tabs sticking out of every highlighted line, everything complete with a color coded key in the front.
“I saw you do it with your other books, found out it’s not actually a crime to write in books and…I guess it became fun.” he explains as he watches you flick through the pages. “I was gonna give this to you at some point. Sounded like a thoughtful idea in my head.”
You don’t answer him, simply facing him in silence before continuing, “I would’ve been sucking your dick right now if I wasn’t so tired.”
He throws his head back in a loud laugh, the high pitched noise sounding across the room as he nearly curls up from the hilarity. You don’t think it was that funny, but maybe it’s because you were telling the truth. You’re pretty sure you’ve joked about wanting to do that to someone who’d do something like this for you, perhaps you could find the transcripts hidden in some text messages with Nayeon later to show Mingyu.
His laughter is contagious regardless, giggles of your own coming out as you watch him practically lose it.
“I think you need to go to sleep,” you comment through bouts of laughter.
He sighs a vocal sigh as he calms down slowly, agreeing with your suggestion that the near morning delirium was getting to both of your heads. You rest your newly acquired, yet equally prized possession to the side, finally turning in for the night as he reaches to turn his night lamp off.
Mingyu moves to press his forehead into yours, not before placing a tiny peck into your lips as he mumbles against them in the dark, “I love you.”
“I love you,” you hum back as you press your lips together one last time, finally letting his breathing lull you into sleep.
The mattress is foreign, so is the pillow, and so are the scents that linger in the room. It’s colder than you’d usually have it and the blankets feel different on your skin. And despite the most foreign thing in the room, the one that has his arms and legs wrapped around you, the one that whispered his love for you into your skin before drifting off, you find yourself falling into a sleep that’s more blissful than any you’ve had in a very, very long time.
The sun is doing nothing to help itself against the tide of annoyance tht rises in your sleepy state. You’d get up and yank the curtains but can’t bring yourself to have the motivation to leave the soft mattress, simply bunching the blanket up to your face to block out the remnants of sun rays that invade the room. You’ve nearly lulled yourself back to sleep when you start registering noises coming from outside the bedroom walls, muffled yet familiar.
Your brother is talking about something you can’t make out, Seokmin’s voice is undeniable despite passing through the folded layers of comforters around your head. You don’t doubt the presence of the sweat that’s probably already accumulated on your scalp.
There’s nothing that alarms you in the moment despite Seokmin’s yapping — that is until you hear a second voice.
You recognize it immediately as the sound of Mingyu’s talking, the words equally as muffled yet the intonation clear all the same.
Kicking the sheets off of your overheating body, you squint as you open your eyes in a desperate attempt to reign yourself back to earth, recollections of the past twenty four hours hurtling back to you like a constant line of K.O’s.
The gallery, the picture, the drive up to Mingyu’s place,the sex, the falling asleep in his arms. You sit up in Mingyu’s bed, clad in nothing but his own T-shirt as you realize your brother is downstairs talking to Mingyu, and you have no idea if he knows you're here.
You realize very quickly that you’re trapped, being left with no other option than to remain in Mingyu’s bedroom until he comes back up to give you the clear, despite wanting to walk out to take the tiniest peek. You’re not sure what’s worse, getting caught or sitting in the growing pool of anxiety before Mingyu gets back.
It’s a long, long twenty minutes, in which you’ve done just about everything to get to hear their conversation a bit better; or to distract yourself from the fact that it’s happening at all. Pressing your ear to the door before going back to make the bed. Freshening up in the bathroom before going back to jamming your eye into the keyhole (you aren’t sure why considering door faces a plain wall). You even hijacked a spare cup Mingyu had lying around the room to stick into the wall, hoping all those Mr. Bean cartoons hadn’t been lying to you.
They were simply talking in a tone too low for your ears to catch (despite the Mr. Bean hack), and you resorted to scrolling on your phone to pass the remaining time. It’s catastrophic to say the least, when you’re met with a string of frantic messages from Nayeon as well as a couple missed calls from your brother.
[Nayeon]: fuck
[Nayeon]: i didnt see this
[Nayeon]: he called this morning asking about you
[Nayeon]: i accidentally told him you werent here
[Nayeon]: im so sorry where are you
[You]: its okay its my fault for texting so late
[You]: i was at mingyus place
[You]: ill tell you more later
[Nayeon]: WHAT???
By the time Mingyu walks in, he’s mildly surprised to see you awake, pausing at the door as he takes in your huddled form. You sit up immediately, noting his still messy hair and the backwards sweatshirt he’s thrown on over his boxers. The question tumbles out of your lips before you can help it, “Was that Seokmin?”
“Good morning to you too,” he grumbles sarcastically, coming up on the bed to join you in your huddle fest. You’re a little embarrassed at the way you’ve greeted him first thing when he sees you, but his expression when he continues replaces it with something akin to fear. “And yeah, it was him.”
You want to ask him a follow up question, but you aren’t sure what to say, simply staring at him, hoping he’d get the hint and continue by himself. He does.
“The idiot has a spare key so he just…” He trails off, rubbing his hands on his face, “he just walked in straight to the room. Got the shock of his life, I suppose, ‘cause it woke me up while you kept snoring.”
“He walked into the room?!” you nearly screech, hand clamped over mouth, horrified. “What did he say to you?”
Mingyu has the audacity to laugh, simply tugging you back down on the bed to hold you. You briefly wonder how he’s so casual about this. “There’s not really an expected reaction from someone when they find you half naked in bed with their sister.”
The haphazardly shoved sweatshirt and no pants look was starting to make sense. “I heard you talking downstairs, what were you talking about?”
“Nothing you have to worry your pretty little head about,” his lips graze the shell of your ear as he snuggles further into you. “He wants you home by seven though.”
You throw your head back in a whine, “God, what am I gonna do?”
“You’ll be fine, he didn’t smack me, he can’t possibly be that mad at you.”
“What was he then, ecstatic?” you retort.
“I mean,” his energy shifts a little. “I think he’s just a little hurt that he wasn’t told.”
“So you’ve done your damage control and now I need to pray he doesn’t disown me.”
“God, you’re being so negative,” he comments and you can’t help but round up on him.
“And you’re acting like you don’t care!”
He’s planting a fat kiss on your cheek at your outburst, coming in to coddle you even more. “I’m kidding, I just want you to relax, don’t be upset.”
“Has he given you his verdict yet?” you ask quietly.
He sighs at the question and you can’t imagine his answer being any good. “Not yet, pretty up in the air about it.”
When he sees you deflate even more in his arms, he continues, “I’m sure he’s gonna come around, he loves you too much to not. It’s just a matter of time while he gets to make sense of the situation, don’t worry about it.”
“I hope so,” you reply.
“We might have wash his socks for the next five years once he does, but it’s okay.”
You can’t help but snort at the prospect, “His feet are stinkier than the regular human’s, are you sure about that?”
He grins, “I’d do it for you.”
You push his face away, rolling your eyes at his attempt to be sappy. “You’re gonna keep me for five years?”
His smile drops as you feel the atmosphere shift in the slightest, his presence moving impossibly closer to you. “I’m gonna keep you forever.”
Hearing it is enough to have you lurching forward, closing the final gap between you so you can give in to the urge to kiss him. He’s enthusiastic to give back, pulling your body to face him entirely as you mumble between kisses, “I love you.”
“I love you more.”
The rest of the day (once your anxiety’s calmed down, at least) is spent loitering around each other as you migrate around the house in random excess. He makes you breakfast, and you need to physically restrain him to stop feeding you every bite of pancake and bacon. You let him make your favourite for lunch though, after you finally admitted how much you truly liked his Chow Mein, going as far as to run to the store to grab the stuff he was missing. He returns with a bag of groceries, not missing an abnormal amount of moonpie value packs that he stashes in his cabinets because “you’re gonna be around all the time”.
6:30 rolls around quicker than either of you would have liked, needing to wiggle out of Mingyu’s hold on his couch to change out of your half naked state. He continues to delay you another ten minutes as he refuses to open his car door to let you walk into the apartment building, leaning over the console to continue mumbling whines between your own consoling kisses.
By the time you’re making the walk of shame up to your door, the pit of anxiety that began to brew this morning returns from its dormancy, no Mingyu here to help ease your nerves, Gripping your key tight in your hands, you brace yourself to jam and twist to finally end this matter once and for all (at least you hope you can).
Seokmin is waiting on the couch for arrival like a parent waiting to catch their child in the act. He briefly glances over at you as you whisper a tame “Hi”, slipping off your shoes. He doesn’t reply as he merely grabs the remote to pause his show, casting a heightened awkward atmosphere at the silence that’s now engulfing the room. You tread carefully over to the couch, where Seokmin sits with his arms crossed.
It takes one look at his face for you to suddenly want to get on your knees and beg for forgiveness. He didn’t look angry, and perhaps you would’ve preferred his aggression if it didn’t mean having to look at a hurt Seokmin. You sit in silence for a couple dramatic minutes, hoping he would start talking so you wouldn’t have to. Yet, when you realize you might have to say something anyway for fear of crushing under the pressure, you find yourself opening your mouth.
“Are you upset?” Of course, he’s upset, you idiot.
“I just–” he starts, before sighing. “I just wish one of you would’ve told me what was going on.”
“I know, I’m sorry,” you reply. “I didn’t want either of you to have an excuse to be upset with each other, so I just…”
“I get that it was a recent thing but I think I deserved as much to know what was happening when I wasn’t around.”
You wince as speaks, realizing he hasn’t caught on to the fact that this isn’t recent at all — for you at least. “Um, about that…”
“What? There’s more?” he scoffs.
“I, uh…I’ve liked him since like fifth grade—” He’s immediately jaw dropped, eyes bulged, taking a sharp breath. “But! In my defense, it was really obvious—it’s honestly your fault for not noticing.”
‘My–My fault?!” he sputters. “That’s like, forever, and you told me nothing? Mingyu told me this was recent, why did he lie?”
“He didn’t, nothing happened till last night, I swear.” You cringe at what you’re entailing. “It was just me that liked him for that long, he figured it out pretty early on but…”
“He’s finally reciprocating now?” he suggests, almost sarcastically.
“Yeah,” you breathe out lightly.
“This is insane,” he blows out a breath of air, massaging his temples.
“I’m not being stupid about him,” you mutter lowly, “This isn’t some puppy dog crush, especially not after so long.”
He’s silent.
“I’m telling you this because I don’t want you to think I’m jumping into this blind, especially for what it means for you too.”
No response.
“I’m sorry that you had to find out like this, it’s really not how I wanted it to go.” And when you’re met with even more silence, you find yourself continuing. “Please, talk to me. Cuss me out if you want, I’d honestly rather you yell at me.”
Seokmin sighs for the near hundredth time, finally looking like he might say something. “I want you to listen to me very carefully.”
The hairs on the back of your neck stand up, mind immediately going to the worst. Was he going to ask you to break up with him?
“I’m gonna choose to trust the both of you on this,” he starts, and you nearly melt into the cushions, “It’s your life, you can date whoever you want. And…I guess Mingyu is better than someone else. Probably uses bad hair gel though.”
You’re catapulting yourself off the couch at the sound of that, throwing yourself onto an unassuming Seokmin. “Thank you, thank you, thank you!”
“OW! Okay! Geez, get off,” he grumbles as he finally stops wrestling you to let go of him, hugging you back as you squeeze his shoulders tight.
“I promise I won’t keep anything like this from you again.”
“You better not,” he huffs as you let go of him, “Don’t think this means you’re forgiven. You still have a lot to tell me.”
“I promise I won’t leave out a thing.”
The following weeks are near bliss, following your very loud confrontation with Nayeon when she gets back from her summer vacation, her screams at every plot turn having you praying for her neighbors. You doubt she believed you despite everything, not until she physically sees Mingyu come in one day, making a beeline to peck you on the lips before greeting anyone else. Her dropped jaw was very telling.
Even now, as Mingyu sports the title of the lame alumnus that still hangs around campus as he grips your hand, walking through the grass, the double takes you’re receiving seem to be traveling quite fast. You wouldn’t necessarily blame them considering the trickier than usual dynamic you sport due to your brother (and you guess due to his reputation as well).
But you also knew they’d be quick to die out as the newer batches of students come flying in — Mingyu will soon become a very well kept secret, in one way if not the other.
His neighbors, however, must be wishing he had the same sentiment as well, considering the absolutely foul noises that are coming from his apartment.
You’re learning very quickly that Mingyu’s innocent touchiness can turn into something of the opposite at any given time, exhibit A being now as you try your damn hardest to muffle the sounds coming out of your mouth as Mingyu works his own mouth on your cunt. The knees over his shoulders are shivering from the expense, fingers pumping into your hole as he rubbed a particular spot with his tongue that had you gripping onto his hair tight.
As much as Mingyu loves to hear you, you find his other hand being brought up to place two fingers in your mouth for you as the perfect pacifier, sounds limiting extensively.
By the time you’re coming undone, sprawled on his couch like you just ran a marathon, you’re quick to realize that he has no intention of letting you have a breather. It takes one shove for him to pull his pulsing length out of his pants, tip pushing into your still sopping hole as he invited all of him inside you.
You’ll never forget the first time Mingyu fucked you raw, right after you told him he had the green light after taking your birth control pills. It was magic, you’ve never seen him this vocal as he finished inside you nearly four times in a single night. His moans remain loud even still, as he brings your thighs to press over your chest, basically folding you in half. The mere sound of your wetness as he pumps in and out of you is enough to have you nearly careening over the edge, especially when you feel a desperate hand reach out to rub fast circles on your clit.
You throw your head back as you cum for the second time, pulsing around him in a grip Mingyu can’t believe has the ability to become tighter. It’s enough for him though, as he leans his forehead against your chest as he releases himself inside you.
He doesn’t think he’ll ever get tired of it, watching you filled to the brim with his cum, even as it drips onto the blankets you’ve laid down below. He has half a mind to stuff the liquid back inside you, but fears you’re tired enough, the overstimulation too much for you.
By the time you’ve cleaned up and resumed the movie you should’ve been done with hours ago, cuddled impossibly close to him, you find yourself remembering something quite out of the blue.
“Hey, not that I really care anymore,” you start, “But who were the guys you were talking to that day? From the party.”
“Stopped hanging out with them ages ago,” Mingyu scoffs, face souring at the mention of them. “I mean, it was me who said all that bullshit, but they weren’t exactly good influences either. Learned that pretty quick.”
“Oh,” you reply simply, letting your head fall back onto his chest.
He doesn’t seem to be having any of it, grabbing your chin to have you face him. “I’m still really sorry about that. I don’t care if you chase my tail for another fifty years, it’ll always be adorable.”
“Forgave you a long time ago, but I think I have a condition now.”
He quirks a brow at your words. “What does her Highness ask of me?”
“That you chase my tail for another fifteen to make up for all the running I’ve done.”
He’s laughing at that, agreeing to your condition as places loving smooches all over your face. “Consider it done.”
It’s later on in the night, both of you huddled in ratty hoodies and mismatched slippers, plastic bag crinkling along Mingyu’s arm as you giggle about something he said. You’re enjoying your fudgsicle in the peace and serenity of the 1 AM hour, making your trek home after raiding the corner store down the block. Mingyu suddenly halts in his tracks as he sees a particularly pretty set of flowers, illuminated by the fluorescent street lights.
“Babe, babe, stand here let me take a picture of you.”
“What?” you frown, holding up your stick of iced chocolate. “I’m not done yet.”
You watch as he grabs the melting popsicle from your hand downing the entire thing in one go as you watch him, hand still outstretched and jaw dropped. “Mingyu, you bitch!”
He only smiles as he mulls the chocolate in his mouth, words basically gibberish, “‘ere’s more in the ba’, now go stan'!”
You huff as you trudge to where he was asking you to pose, throwing a couple peace signs to satiate the home video urges in him so you could rip open your second fudgsicle.
“Wait! You got a little chocolate on your mouth.” he announces, and you stick your tongue out to lick past the remnants of the sweetness. “No— wait.”
He walks over to you as your still trying to find the spot you missed, unassuming as he swings into your face to kiss the remaining off. “Oh, nevermind, it was nothing.”
You push him off as heat crawls up your face, feigning annoyance at his antics. You decide to forgive him when rips open another fudgsicle for you, offering it with both hands, promising to not steal a single lick. You believe him, snatching the stick from him as you continue your trek home.
It’s not until he’s attempting to send you the pictures he just took to your phone so you could post them (which, with the way you looked, fat chance) that he notices something in your albums.
“Oh, are these grad photos?” he asks as he clicks the album open.
“Mhm,” you hum not paying too much attention as you walked and ate.
“Why’s there only one picture here?” he asks as he pulls up to find nothing more left to load.
It’s only then that you bring your full attention to your phone in his hand as you realize what picture he’s talking about, “Oh god, don’t look at that one.”
He does the obvious thing and opens it anyway, a louder than necessary “aw” coming out his mouth. “Why do you look like I’m about to eat you?”
“It felt like it!” you whine, remembering the moment clear as day. “They kept pestering me to take a picture with you too, I was tryna book it out of there at first chance.”
He giggles as he zooms into the photo, “I’m sending this to myself.”
You groan loudly at the thought, “God, just delete it, leave it alone.”
He tucks the phone into himself further, not letting you grab it. “No, you’re not deleting it. Why do you have it tucked into a separate folder if you hate it so much.”
He’s got you there, you realize quickly, and he reigns in his victory as he watches you grimace at the phone slightly, adding on, “it has a lot of feelings attached to it, I get it. But look, we can attach new feelings to it, now you’ll think about right now the next time you see it.”
“Think about you hijacking my fudgsicles? I think I prefer heartbreak,” you say, bringing your half eaten pop closer to your body in case he tries anything.
You’re deemed correct when he replies, motioning towards your concealed treat, “Careful, I can still pounce when you’re not looking.”
Shoving your hands into the swinging bag hanging on Mingyu’s arm, you bring out a thing of sausage and shove it towards him, “You leave me and my fudgsicle alone, go be lousy and suck on this or whatever.”
“You’d know alot about that, wouldn’t you?” he notes casually, grabbing the sausage anyway as he unwraps it to take a bite.
It takes you a second to realize what he’s talking about while he stares at you with a mischievous expression, coming to shove him when the innuendo finally registers in your head. You do the opposite this time, pointing the melting chocolate toward him instead, threatening to smear it all over his white hoodie.
He laughs at the sight, disarming you by simply moving your wrist away, coming to kiss you on the mouth hard regardless of your annoyed expression.
“Love ya’” he giggles.
“Hm.”
“What, hm? Say it back.”
You pretend to wonder, “I don’t think so.”
“Say it!” he groans, “Say it, say it!”
You manage to wriggle out of his hold, booking it before he realises what’s happening.
“Hey!”
Your both probably waking up the entire neighborhood with how loud you’re yelling and laughing, and even when he manages to tackle you down on somebody’s lawn, coaxing the words out of you with borderline violence, you still manage to smile, thanking your lucky stars that you got what you wanted after all.
“What’re you thinking about?” he asks with an undertone.
“Thanking my stars they led me to you,” you reply.
“More like the other way around. Needed the fattest fucking star to realize what was in front of me all along,” he jests himself.
It sparks a laugh out of you. “I love you.”
“And I love you.”
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Meeting again | Part 1 - Part 2 | Leah Williamson x Reader
Where you take your son to Leah's book signing and you reconnect with your high school friend/crush.
Happy birthday to our blonde pookie!
Woso masterlist | Words: 2.7k
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You were doing some work around the house when your ex called. “Hey Ryan, what’s up?” You say as you turn off the vacuum. “Hi y/n, I’m so sorry. I know that it’s my day, but I’m going to be stuck at work until late. Is there any way you can pick up Liam from school and take him to that book signing from Leah?” The two of you had gotten a divorce many years ago, when you had finally come to terms with your sexuality. Ryan had always been understanding, and now you were still friends, and co-parented your son Liam together. “Oh yeah, don’t worry, I can do that.” You could hear the relief in his voice. “Thank you so much, I owe you one. He has a half day, so he should be done at school in about an hour. I packed his Arsenal jersey and scarf, he wanted to wear them to the signing. Thank you again, I have to go. Send me pictures of the signing?” Your kid would always be your number one priority, so you hung up the phone and got ready.
“Hey bud, your dad is stuck at work, so I’m going to take you to Waterstones later, is that okay?” The boy greeted you with a hug. “Yes, of course, you’ll get to see Leah again!” Back in high school you and Leah were very close, there was even some gossip about the two of you dating, but when you got wind of that you shut those rumours down quickly by starting a relationship with Ryan, a relationship that drove a wedge between your friendship with Leah. Your love for the women’s game continued to grow though, and you have supported Arsenal all your life, just like Leah. Liam fell in love with it too, and you often found yourself amongst the crowd of Arsenal WFC and Lionesses matches together. Liam was a smart kid, and after finding you looking at TikTok videos of Leah, he started asking questions. “Watch it, or we’re not going.” You said with a fake seriousness. Liam knew full well that it was an empty threat as you loved messing with him.
You decided to make it a special day for your son, by taking him out for lunch before heading over to Waterstones. It was to no surprise to you that he wanted to go to his favourite restaurant. “Smile for your dad.” The boy looked up from his plate with a big grin on his face. Proudly wearing his Williamson jersey and his Arsenal scarf.
The line at Waterstones was long, but you bought the book and joined the line together. You could tell he was excited just by the way his eyes lit up, and his smile was constantly present on his face. His excitement made you glad that you were able to join him on this occasion, but it didn’t trump your nerves of seeing Leah again. Of course, you had seen her play, but you were always just a person in the crowd, and now you were going to be face to face with the girl you’ve had a crush on since you were fifteen.
Never in your life had you been so nervous to see someone from your past, but you set it aside for your son, this was his moment. Plus Leah would probably not even remember you, right? You were a nobody, and she was the England captain and the Arsenal co-captain.
When it was your turn, Liam walked up to the signing table, while you stood back to take pictures. “Hi, what’s your name?” You heard the blonde ask your son. “I’m Liam, it’s very nice to meet you. My mom is a big fan of yours as well.” The sneaky little bastard, you thought as your eyes met Leah’s. Her eyes showed instant recognition. ‘Yours?’ she mouthed your way, and you answered with a nod. “It’s very nice to meet you too Liam, want to come over to this side for a picture?” Leah signed the book, and wrote something on one of the cards laying to the side as Liam made his way around the table. “I see you’re repping my jersey! You know what would go great with that?” He shook his head. “This new cap, would you like one?” Liam looked over to you with hopeful eyes, “Can I mom?” You smiled at the interaction between Leah and your son, “Yeah, of course.” He turned back to Leah, “Thank you so much!” The two posed for a picture. “Any time Liam. Here is your signed book, and could you please give this card to your mom?” He grinned big when he saw a written phone number on the back of the card. “Thank you Leah!”
“Mom! I got you her number, you have to call her!” You look at the card that Liam handed you ‘Would love to catch up, send me a text if you’re up for it :)’ along with her cell. You looked between the card and Leah, who shot you a smile before returning to the next person in line. “Please tell me you’re going to send her a text, please!” Liam was tired of always seeing you admire Leah from afar, and now that you had a real shot to reconnect with her, he wanted you to take it. Plus how cool would it be if his mom would go out with the Leah Williamson? You pocket the card, “Maybe later, you little snitch. I thought we had a deal.” You say playfully as you put your arm around his shoulder. Quite frankly it scared you a little to send her a text. “Let’s head home.”
When you got home you put Leah’s number in your phone and stared at the message screen forever, trying to decide what to text her. You really wanted to reconnect with her, but you also didn’t want to overcompensate, and ruin any chance you had. You settled on something simple, letting her make the next move.
You: Hi Leah, it’s y/n. It was good seeing you today, catching up sounds nice.
You hadn’t expected to get a message back from her so soon.
Leah: So glad we ran into each other. Talk about the details later?
The message notification was staring back at you, your heart was beating out of your chest simply from her message. You quickly put your phone away, without opening her message when Liam walks in. “Mom, you know that I want you to be happy right?” You nod, “Of course, I know that kiddo. What makes you say that?” He shrugs, “I just don’t want you to hold back because of me.” You shake your head, “You’re too smart. I love you, kiddo.” He hugs your side, “I love you too, mom.”
The two of you were hanging out at home, when Ryan called again. “Hey, thank you for sending me those pictures. They really made my day, glad to see him so happy.” You notice the exhaustion behind his words, “Yeah of course, I don’t want you to miss out on stuff because of your job.” Liam was so important to the both of you, but your divorce had led to missing some things here and there, that you always tried to minimise together. “Speaking of work, I should be done around eight. You know I hate to ask, but-” You interrupted him, “You don’t have to ask, of course. Pick him up whenever you are done, okay?” You heard the relief in his voice, “Thank you. Can I talk to him for a moment?” You walk over to Liam and hand him the phone, “It’s your dad.” After handing him your phone, you give him some space to talk to his dad.
You continued vacuuming since you weren’t done when you had to pick up Liam from school. So, you didn’t hear the interaction with Ryan, or when the call was over, and definitely not when you got another phone call. Liam looked at the contact and smirked to himself. When he realised you didn’t hear the phone call, he picked up himself. “Hi Leah, it’s Liam.” The girl had not expected your son to pick up, but she went with it anyway. “Hey Liam! How did you like the book signing?” He told her how much he enjoyed it before Leah continued with her questions. “I was looking for your mom, is she around?” If it were a video call, Leah would have seen the mischievous look in Liam’s eyes, but since it was a voice call he could hide behind the screen. “She is a little busy right now, but she said she wanted to invite you over for dinner tonight if you had time.” Leah knew she should’ve questioned it more, but she wanted to see you so badly, that she set up dinner plans with your son.
Just ten minutes before Leah said she would be there Liam came walking up to you. “Hey mom, so I kind of invited Leah over for dinner tonight.” Never in your life had you turned around so quickly, “You did what?” You could not believe what your son had just told you. “She will be here in-” His sentence was interrupted by the doorbell. “Now.” He said with a big smile. You were frozen in place, Leah Williamson was at your door, and you were in sweats and a tank top, your hair a mess from the house work you had been doing for the past hour. “Are you going to let her in?” You turned to Liam, “You are going to be in so much trouble later.” Again, Liam knew there was no actual threat behind your words, because that’s not how you parented.
On your way to the door, you tried to quickly fix your hair. You open the door, “Oh hi Ryan, you’re here early.” He smiles back at you, “Yeah our last meeting got cancelled, sorry I didn’t let you know.” You shake your head, “No, no it’s okay. Liam, your dad is here!” The boy came running into his dad’s arms. “You’re here!” The bond between them was amazing, he truthly loved the both of you equally. “Have you had something to eat yet?” Liam shakes his head, “How does McDonald’s sound?” You grab Liam’s bag, and give him a quick kiss on his cheek, before waving the both of them off.
As soon as you closed the door, you ran up the stairs to quickly get changed, and look more presentable. You had just finished doing your hair when your doorbell rang again. This time it was Leah standing on the other side of the door. “Hi Leah, come in.” She looked so beautiful in her simple white t-shirt and a pair of green cargo pants. “Hey y/n, thank you. No Liam?” She questioned when you walked her further into the house. “He wanted to be here but his dad came to pick him up a little bit ago. I’m sorry to say that McDonald’s has been picked over dinner with you.” You joke, hoping to make the moment a bit lighter. Hearing Leah’s laugh brought you back to those days where you would sit on the grass, and make fun of the boys on the football team.
“So, Liam is a big fan of football then?” Leah started awkwardly. You loved talking about him, so you just started talking. “Yeah, I started taking him to matches when he was still a little baby. He loved it ever since, I can’t go to an Arsenal match without him nowadays. A gooner from the start, just like you.” Leah blushed slightly. “So, you’ve been coming to our matches all this time?” Now it was your turn to blush. “Maybe.” The both of you laugh. “Ryan surprisingly never got into football, so it’s been something I get to share with Liam.” The name you mentioned caught Leah’s attention. “Wait Ryan is Liam’s dad? You actually married high school Ryan?” You realised that bringing his name up was probably a mistake since he is what drove the two of you apart. “Oh yeah, high school Ryan indeed. Liam’s dad indeed, and I did marry him. We haven’t been married for like five years though.”
Leah’s ears perk up at that. “Oh, I’m sorry to hear that.” You shrug your shoulders, “It’s all good, it was time I finally figured out my sexuality. We’re still friends, and he's great with Liam. Anyways, how have you been?” The two of you start talking and catching up, and somehow even though more than a decade had passed and you had lived such different lives, it felt like you had never not known each other.
You walk into the kitchen together, still talking, when the both of you start getting hungry. That is when you realise that you had to go to the grocery store today, and didn’t have much in the house. “So, confession time. I didn’t actually know you were coming over until Liam told me about ten minutes before you arrived.” Leah laughed, “I had a feeling the invite wasn’t extended by you, but I didn’t want the opportunity to go to waste.” You blush at her words. “I am very happy that you are here, don’t get me wrong. I was just not prepared. It was Ryan’s day with the kid, but he got stuck at work so I didn’t have a chance to go to the grocery store like I had originally planned. Let’s see, I have Potato Smileys, and literally nothing else. I am so sorry.” Leah did not care what you would eat one bit, she was just happy to be there with you. “Good thing I love Potato Smileys then!”
You shared a laugh at the situation and decided to make the best of it. While the Potato smileys were in the oven, you set the table with some condiments to go along with them. As you were waiting for the Smileys to cook, you and Leah fell back into conversation. You were reminiscing over old times, and shared stories from the past years since. It was easy talking to her, it really felt like no time had passed.
Once you were done with dinner, you moved to the living room where you each found a comfortable place on the couch to continue catching. Before you realised it, hours had passed by. Leah looked at her watch, and noticed the time first. “Oh it’s late, I hadn’t realised so much time had passed.” You glance at the clock yourself, “Wow, yeah it is. I’m really glad you came over tonight, catching up with you has been great.” Leah smiled in return, “Yes it was, I’ve missed this. I hope we can hang out again soon!” You walk her to the door, “For sure! Liam and I will be at the match Sunday, maybe we can do something after? If you don’t mind him tagging along of course.” Her smile grew big, “I would love that, and for Liam to tag along always!”
As you said goodbye, and Leah got into her car you couldn’t help but feel hopeful for what the future might hold. Just having Leah back into your life in whatever way possible made you extremely happy. Tonight had been so nice, and you really wanted to see Leah again soon, Sunday didn’t feel soon enough. So, you decided to send her a message. You felt less nervous sending this message than the one this afternoon, but still there were some nerves.
You: Would you maybe want to grab a coffee sometime this week? I’d love to meet up sooner than Sunday.
As you were getting ready to go to bed, your phone dinged with a new message.
Leah: I know a great spot! Are you free tomorrow?
You smiled at the text, Leah proposing tomorrow had to mean she wanted to see you again soon too, right? You quickly let her know you’re free, before sending her a goodnight message and calling it a night. Though, your mind kept you up for a while longer, not wanting to let go of today just yet.
Continue reading part 2!
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Midnight Muse (Part 19)
Azriel x Reader [Art School AU]
Summary: You and your best friend Feyre have just moved into a new apartment for your sophomore year of college at art school. What you didn't know when you signed the lease is that you'd be living next to three rowdy boys.
Warnings: SMUT
Word Count: 5,592
[Part 1] [Part 2] [Part 3] [Part 4] [Part 5] [Part 6] [Part 7] [Part 8] [Part 9] [Part 10] [Part 11] [Part 12] [Part 13] [Part 14] [Part 15] [Part 16] [Part 17] [Part 18] [Masterlist]
Notes: The moment we've all been waiting for 😏 (took me like four days to write this)....Happy Valentine's Day 💙
_________________________________________
The kiss is searing.
It’s a desperate attempt to taste each other, devour each other as your lips part beneath Azriel’s without thought. Your teeth clack and the sound is loud in the silence of the gallery, almost startlingly so, but his tongue is brushing across yours in a tentative swipe before you’re meeting him halfway, kissing him even more urgently as the taste of him explodes on your tongue.
He tastes fresh and spicy. There’s a hint of the champagne he’s been drinking, and just like the fizziness of it, the feeling bubbles throughout your body pleasurably. You press yourself closer. His eyelashes are so long that you swear you can feel them fluttering against your skin. The feeling goes straight to your cunt.
Your heart pounds in your chest, and you lose yourself into him entirely.
A new beginning indeed.
“Wait,” Azriel pants between kisses. His words tell you that he wants to pause this kiss that is more dizzying than any of the champagne you’ve had tonight, but the way his hands caress your face, keeping you close, the way that he continues to press his mouth against yours again and again tells you that he doesn’t want this to end either. “Princess, wait.”
Ice slips through your veins as you rock back from him a little. Is he already regretting this? I mean, you did just throw yourself at him like some simpering girl, but his reassuring grip slides down your arms, holding you close. Tingles skitter in wake of his touch, but you can’t help the part of you that’s suddenly terrified of what he’s going to say.
Azriel must see it on your face too, the worry, because his brows furrow slightly like he doesn’t understand your quick reaction to pull away. He’s stepping into you, plastering himself against your front. You can feel his cock, hard with attention against your stomach. You relax slightly as the warmth from your cheeks drips down to collect at the apex of your thighs.
“You’re drunk,” Azriel breathes, and the pinch of his brows becomes more tortured when you slide your hands up his chest, wrapping them around his neck. Those golden eyes search yours frantically, but you don’t show him anything but the ache, the need for him you have and have been locking deep inside of your soul. “I need you to be sober when I fuck you for the first time, princess.”
“I’m fine,” you whine, clinging to him as tightly as he is to you. You roll your hips a little to emphasize what you want from him and Azriel makes a choked noise in response. “I’m not drunk enough to where I’d forget any of this, Azriel.”
And fuck, the way you say his name, no longer filled with hatred or annoyance. It’s a heady whine that makes his cock harder than stone. He thinks he might crumble under your touch like a delicate piece of his charcoal. He wants to be wrapped all around you, embedded into your skin like the chalky substance he favors. He wants to ink you with his touch, with his cum—
He shakes his head, erasing those thoughts from his mind. If he continues down that path he might just rip off your dress right now and—“Fuck,” he squeezes his eyes shut as hard as he can for a moment, leaning his forehead against yours. “I want to fuck you in a bed, not on some hard floor.”
It’s an excuse and you both know it. He could lie you down right now and fuck you so hard that your tailbone bruises from the stone floors, and you’d probably thank him.
“Just put a canvas down,” you suggest, “Let’s make some art.” He grunts like you’ve just shot him, bucking his hips against you. You can feel how big he is and you want to unleash his cock from his pants, run your fingers across the hardness of it, taste him on your tongue—
“Easy,” he warns playfully, but there’s a clear strain to his voice that tells you that he wants to keep going. Sadly, Azriel pulls your hands from his belt. You hadn’t noticed that your fingers had moved to his waist on their own volition.
“Fuck,” you curse, wincing. “Sorry.”
“Say fuck again,” he says, distracted. The honey of his eyes is dripping with lust, pupils blown wide as they drink you in. The flush to your cheeks, the way you’re biting your tongue and batting your eyelashes up at him like you’re going to make him beg for it. He might. Azriel brushes his thumb across your lip, watching the way your mouth forms the words again. “Filthy, princess,” he breathes against your mouth. “Everytime you called me prick or asshole or whatever creative curses you could come up with, you don’t know how much I wanted to come taste them off of your lips, fuck them right out of you.”
He wants to know if you’ll make the same noises that you did on the other side of that wall that day.
You can’t help but to rub yourself against him. Your sex is throbbing with need. You moan again and Azriel sucks harshly on your neck. “Shit,” you whine. His hands are everywhere, winding around your body to hold you even closer. “Need your cock, Az,” you pant, and he’s kissing you forcefully, the both of you stumbling back a few steps.
“You’ll get it, princess,” he mumbles, hands dragging hot lines down your spine to squeeze a handful of your ass. You’re about to beg him again, because your failed attempts at convincing him to fuck you right here on the floor are not working, but the lights cut out, sending the entire gallery into a pitch of darkness.
Azriel groans and you can’t help the laugh that escapes.
“What the hell?” You question through your giggling, turning as you throw a look over your shoulder as if making sure that the entire room has succumbed to the same darkness. You don’t miss the way Azriel’s grip tightens on you as you move, and the action weakens your knees.
“Thesan told me this would happen at midnight,” Azriel supplies, digging into the pocket of his trousers for his phone.
You feign a gasp, “My very own Cinderella moment! I’ve always wanted one!”
The smirk in Azriel’s tone is clear when he answers. “Except, unlike Cinderella, you’ll be getting dick tonight.”
You swat at him, but in the dark you miss. He chuckles, deep and throaty, as if the current of your swing ruffled the fabric of his shirt. You clench your thighs. Being on this side of Azriel’s good mood is spectacular, but there is no way he can keep torturing you like this.
“I think it really sets the mood; don’t you think?” You purr, fingers fumbling for the top button of his shirt.
“Oh, no you don’t,” he grouses, catching your hands and guiding you through the dark gallery instead. The flashlight on his phone leads the way. Azriel keeps your hand tucked tightly in his own as you wobble back into your heels with a soft hiss, your aching feet already protesting again. “When I fuck you, I need to see all of those pretty faces you’re going to make for me,” Azriel all but growls.
You stumble, blaming it on your shoes and Azriel steadies you.
He swipes up the glasses from the floor and you pick up the nearly empty champagne bottle, where you return them all to the kitchenette Thesan built in the back, dumping them into the sink.
When you scold Azriel for not washing the glasses, he arches a brow, illuminated by the glaring light coming from his phone. “Oh, now you want to stay longer and help clean up?” He questions and you roll your eyes in response. “Is this my punishment for wanting to take you home and fuck you in a nice, comfy bed? C’mon, princess, you know just how soft it is, don’t you?”
You shiver at his words. That, for once, you’re both completely on the same page about something.
⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅
The ride back to the apartment building is both the longest ride you’ve ever endured, and the most tension-filled.
Azriel had called a cab to take the both of you home, and spent the time waiting by pressing you up against the back door of the building and kissing the life out of you.
It’s difficult to focus on anything other than his hand in yours, the soft and rigid texture of his hand. The way that his thumb smoothes gentle circles across your own hand where they lie intertwined in your lap. The warmth of his skin is both settling and forming a rock in your stomach as you think about what he’s endured to grace these scars upon his skin. That his step-brothers had been so cruel to take a flame to the artist's hands.
You try to swallow past the lump in your throat, breathing shallowly so you don’t make yourself sick with the thoughts searing through your mind.
The driver doesn’t try to make conversation and you’re thankful for that, but the silence is consuming, aiding in your negative thoughts.
As if sensing the turn of your thoughts, Azriel squeezes your hand, and gives you a gentle smile. It’s a crooked one, one corner of his mouth tilted higher than the other, but it’s easily the most beautiful smile you’ve seen. It makes him look younger, less like he’s carrying the weight of the world on his shoulders. It makes you wish you had your sketchpad with you. Him looking at you like this makes you feel like there’s a garden growing in your stomach, a field of blooming flowers.
You frown when Azriel’s fingers untangle from yours but then he’s sliding that large palm scoots slowly up your thigh. You glare, glancing into the front of the car at the driver, who is paying no attention to whatever is going on in his backseat, which is perfect because Azriel’s hand is creeping higher, almost cupping your—
You splutter a little and the driver glances at you in the mirror.
“You okay?” Azriel asks, but you can hear the mirth in his voice, see the heat in his eyes, flashing in the streetlights.
You’re not all that sure that you like this new Azriel.
“Peachy,” you offer, using both of your hands to clamp down on his wrist to keep him from coming any closer to your already weeping cunt. The thin fabric of your dress does little to separate the warmth of his hand from your skin. “Just peachy.”
Azriel finds challenge in your response, and you’re no match for his strength as he softly brushes his fingers across the fabric covering your intimates. You exhale harshly and can feel the car moving faster as the driver presses harder on the gas.
⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅
You skip going into your apartment, trailing after Azriel with your hand tucked into his.
Your heart is beating wildly, like it’s trying to escape your chest. The closer you get to his door the more confident in your decision you are. You want him, want his hands all over your body, his eyes and hands on your skin and his cock plunged deeply into your cunt.
The elevator had been the only option to get upstairs because of your tired feet, but Azriel had thoroughly distracted your nervousness of getting back in the blasted metal trap by pinning you up against the door and slotting his lips over yours.
The both of you stumbled out onto your floor in a fit of laughter, helped along by the slight warmth that lingers from the champagne. Now, you’re mostly just drunk off of Azriel, his hands, the strain in his pants that’s calling your name, that gleam in his eye that you haven’t quite caught before…
“I’m going to get you some water,” he whispers, pressing a soft kiss to your mouth. You had both creeped quietly into the dark apartment, holding your breath and listening for any movement. For college students, the weekend night is still young, and his roommates must be out because not a grunt of a wank or a moan from Feyre sounds. You follow Azriel’s mouth because you can’t get enough of the taste of him. His hands settle on your hips, eyes gleaming with amusement. “And after you drink it, if you still want to—”
“Yes, Azriel,” you cut him off, earnest. “My answer isn’t going to change.”
He studies you, golden eyes hungry with desire, before he nods, slipping from the room, the shadows of the dark living room swallowing him whole.
You bite back the smile threatening to tear your face into two at the sight of his tight ass in his black trousers. You can’t wait to rip them off and see what’s under them.
Exhaling, you spin on your heel, kicking out of your shoes. Your feet sigh with relief as they fall flat against the hardwood floors, and you wiggle your toes, admiring his room. It feels different, somehow, than when it did when you woke up here hungover as fuck.
The light from the lamp beside the bed is soft, the pile of books stacked in pristine order as opposed to the ready-to-tip-over pile you remember. It’s clean, no piles of clothes on the floor like in Cassian’s room, no pair of panties thrown over the desk chair.
Azriel’s desk is the only thing you could consider messy, but even then, it’s cleaner that what your art stations look like when you’re working on a project. There’s a jar filled with chunks of charcoal, a cloth drenched black hanging over its side. There are loose sheets of paper and thick graphite pencils for sketching, and a luster of sketchbooks stacked in a neat pile, the one on top open.
You lean closer, squinting against the shadows to get a better look, and your breath hitches in your throat.
Drawing upon drawing, and they’re all of you. He’s made you look so beautiful that you didn’t even know you looked like this. Even the ones that he’s clearly drawn in a rush, before the memory faded, are impeccable.
It’s you in the elevator, head buried in your sketchbook, hat pulled low over your eyes. It’s you when Feyre and Rhysand forced everyone to have lunch together, tossing the grape at Cassian. It’s you, swallowing up at him the first day that you met. You sitting on the back of his motorcycle, rain plastered to your head, you—
You can’t help but to turn the page, all but collapsing into the desk chair. Some of the pages are filled with larger drawings, spreading across the spine of the book. When you’d eaten dinner with him, the shock on your face when you learned that he could cook. The following pages are a double-spread from when you were staring down at him when he was changing the oil on his motorcycle.
A hysterical laugh bubbles in your throat. You hadn’t realized that Azriel had been paying as much attention to you as you were with him. The drawings of yours that you dropped all over the floor of his hands are a tribute to that.
“What are you doing?” Azriel’s voice startles you. You stand from the chair and face him, but you don’t move any closer than that. He’s standing in the doorway, a glass of water in his hand. He doesn’t move closer, and when his eyes flick from the sketchbook to you , your chest hurts at the guarded look he wears.
“That sketchbook is filled with drawings of me,” you point at the sketchbook in question, even though he was just looking at it. In some speck of the world it might seem creepy, this sketchbook filled with drawings of you, but to you, it’s no different than children scribbling names of their cushes across notebooks. It’s no different than all of the drawings you have of him.
You watch Azriel’s throat work as he swallows. Like he’s considering not answering you at all.
After a few, long seconds in silence, he breathes out a quiet, “Yes.”
“Why?” you ask, twisting your fingers together.
Azriel tracks the movement. Because you consume every waking moment of my life sounds too desperate. Because you chase my demons away sounds even crazier.
“Because I really like you.” It’s his first time admitting it, your first time hearing it from him. All of the times Feyre has tried to ask you about Azriel had been deny, deny, deny, because of this very moment right now. You hadn’t wanted to think about him like that, even when your mind was desperate to. You didn’t want to actually like Azriel, not after what he had done, but you find yourself admitting that you like him a hell of a lot more than you ever thought you could.
Bunching up the bottom of your dress, you curl your fingers around it as you take a step closer. He’s frozen in the doorway, watching you slowly drag the fabric up your body and over your head. You’d forgone a bra, and your nipples tighten in the chill of the room, underneath that piercing gaze of his.
In the few steps it takes you to cross the room to him, your dress is on the floor and he can’t stop looking at your body, drinking you in like an artist does his muse.
“I really like you too, Azriel,” you respond softly. This is the most intimate thing you’ve ever done, bare yourself to him while he’s still fully clothed, being as vulnerable as he’d been with you back at the gallery. The ball is in his court, and the bulge in his pants has you hopeful.
Azriel curses. “Fuck, princess. You’re making my hands shake.”
Your solution is simple, taking the glass from him and reaching over to set it on the dresser. You can feel the way his eyes rove your body as you move, hot like a knife.
Turning back to him, you slowly, gently take his hands in yours. They’re trembling a little, and it makes you ache.
He’s frozen to the spot as he watches you lift one of his palms to your lips, kissing it sweetly. It’s followed by the other, and then you’re dragging his hands down your skin and over your breasts, squeezing his hands around them, nipples tight with the pleasure of his skin against them.
Azriel’s breath hitches and your head nearly rolls back on your neck when his fingers twitch, fighting the urge to squeeze harder. You peer up at him. He’s so godsdamned warm, eyes dark and drinking you in like a delight. You want to feel his hands everywhere. Right this second.
“They’re not shaking right now, Azriel.”
As quick as lightning, Azriel strikes, lunging forward and scooping you off of your feet, kicking the door shut behind him.
You arch into his touch, the tightness of your sensitive nipples grazing across the soft fabric of his shirt. You moan into his mouth at the feeling and he swallows that sound desperately.
His room is small, and in two great strides he’s placing you on his bed and crawling up after you like a wolf getting its first taste of a kill.
You scoot backwards until you can’t anymore, and Azriel follows you like a worshiper to his God, like a starving artist to their muse.
His hands trail your calves to your thighs where he parts them, your clothed cunt on full display. The fabric is wet and you shiver at the cold of his room as it fights against your hot core, shivering harder when Azriel’s hot gaze drags down your body like a brush dipped in paint.
Like this, kneeling between your legs, he’s the one that looks Godlike. Strands of his black hair fall across his glowing eyes, and his tongue pokes out to wet his lips.
“My Gods, princess. Where do I even start with you?” he asks, his voice filled with awe.
You know that his question is rhetoric, but you can’t help the whine on an answer that slips from your lips.
“Anywhere you want.”
As if he can’t stand it a moment longer, Azriel’s hips find yours. His cock is heavy with need where it’s straining against the fabric of his trousers, and you keen as he grinds into you, fingers finding the buttons of his shirt as he watches you with hungry eyes.
Splayed out like this, on his bed, you look impeccable. A feast and he is a starving man. Biting your lip as he rubs himself against your cunt. The part to your lips, glistening in the lamplight. He drinks you in, memorizing each and every single ounce of you before your fingers find the sliver of exposed skin that grows with each button he takes off.
He’s smooth, warm, and the ridges of his muscles feel like a puzzle beneath your fingers. You know exactly where he fits, right up against your body.
Azriel’s shirt falls to the side and as if he knows the intended path of your thoughts, he’s leaning over you, caging you between his elbows as he stares deeply into your eyes. You can’t help but watch in response, suddenly so sure that you’ve spent too long arguing with him. All this time, you could’ve been doing this.
It looks like Azriel is realizing the same, as he dips down to kiss you sweetly.
“I’m sorry,” he murmurs against your mouth again, following the words with another whisper of a kiss.
“I’ve already forgiven you,” you say, delirious from the feeling of his tongue against your neck. Azriel sucks lightly and your breath hitches, thighs quivering to wrap around his taut waist. “But if you get inside of me right now, I’ll forgive you again.”
Azriel lifts his head. With the way that his dark hair falls into his gold eyes, paired with the slight smirk on his face, it sends your heart into a rapid flutter. He’s utterly breathtaking, and something blooms deeply inside of you.
The things you’ve learned about him, from him, this man who hasn’t let his hardships keep him from doing what he loves.
“Don’t think you’re getting off that easy, princess,” Azriel says, and you almost whine when he pulls away from you, but he’s kissing his way down your body, sucking a pert nipple into his mouth and rolling his tongue around it while his other hand massages your free breast. Your fingers find his shoulders and you dig your nails in, hissing as he rolls your nipple between his teeth. Gods, you need his cock, right now. “I have to taste your sweet little pussy first.”
“Please,” you beg as his hands trail down your sides, snapping the waistband of your panties against your hips in a tease.
“Might have to keep you here all night. So I can study your body with my tongue,” he says, leaning down to lick a stripe up the inside of your thigh. “My hands,” Azriel continues, and the words are accentuated with a brush of his knuckle down the center of your core. The thin fabric of your panties does nothing to ease the feeling of his touch. You keen deeply, and somewhere in the haze of the storm that is Azriel that accompanies his every touch, you don’t realize he’s slipped from his pants and boxers, his thick, full length on display. “And my cock,” he finishes, rubbing himself against your soaked panties.
“Az,” you mewl desperately, but you don’t have to wait any longer because he’s already peeling your panties down your legs and settling himself there, admiring the way your pretty cunt flutters and glistens with need.
Your fingers are already fisting the sheets and it’s an effort to peer down at him, watching in anticipation as he finally, finally, lowers his head to your weeping cunt.
Fucking Gods, is Azriel wicked with his tongue, sweeping a deep stroke through your slit. He groans and the sound of it reverberates against your clit and it’s all too much already. You figure he was going to be good with his hands, being an artist, but this…the gentle to harsh touches of his tongue against your clit is otherworldly.
You gasp as he fucks into you, keeping you from scooting up the bed where your feet are planted in the sheets with his hands on your hips, holding you to his face. He’s a man undone, delirious on your taste alone. He can’t wait until his cock gets to feel this.
Azriel works his tongue, fucking into you with such hunger. He sucks greedily at your clit and you arch off of the bed. One of his palms slides across your hips, pressing you back down. He doesn’t care that you’re squeezing his head with your thighs, only cares about the sounds that he’s ripping from your mouth.
They sound even better on this side of the wall.
A finger replaces his tongue and you’re full on squirming now, fingers buried deeply into his hair as you guide his head, the flick of his tongue too good that any words besides “yes,” eddy from your mind. Azriel’s knuckle brushes the bundle of nerves inside of you and you’re seeing white, cunt clenching around his finger, grinding your pussy into the feverish flicking of his tongue as you ride out the best orgasm of your life.
You cunt aches, and Azriel’s still going, so you use your grip on his hair to jostle him a little, whimpering to get his attention.
It takes a lot more strength for Azriel to part from your cunt than he thought. Your sweetness is still on his tongue, coating his mouth when he looks up at you, dazed, as if he’s the one that’s just come from a taste of you. But no, he’s still painfully hard, trying not to rut his hips into the bed while you squirmed for him.
He wants you to do all that squirming on his cock instead.
“You alright up there, princess?” Azriel teases, crawling his way up your body once more. Following the guidance of the hand in his hair, he slants his mouth over yours, sharing the taste of you in a lazy kiss.
You hum languidly, eyes shut in bliss from the orgasm. You peek your eyes open to peer up at Azriel, who’s admiring you with a soft curve to his mouth. He looks so handsome when he smiles that it has you wrapping your legs around his hips, the both of you groaning as his cock slides through your slick folds, teasing.
“Condom,” you gasp, canting your hips to slide your wet and fully interested cunt across his length. He’s so big, and you’d be going down on him if it weren’t for the way that you desperately need to feel him inside of you, right this fucking instant.
Azriel reaches over you, pulling open the drawer of the small table next to you. He roots around for a moment and then he’s pressing back on his haunches, tearing open the condom wrapper and pulling it out.
“Let me,” you offer, and his eyes turn a shade darker when he passes it over.
Your mouth waters at the feeling of his cock in your hand, hot and heavy, silky like heaven. You can feel your slick around the length from where he’d nearly driven you to insanity with that teasing grind against your cunt, and in retaliation, you give his cock a tug, reveling in the low growl that comes from the back of his throat.
“Princess,” he threatens, and your thighs jolt, trying to shut around your screaming clit at the sound.
You don’t wait for Azriel to take charge. As soon as you roll the condom on you’re brushing the head of his cock against your cunt again, slicking him and lining him up with your entrance, looking up at him with those big, innocent eyes.
“Fuck me, Az. I can’t wait another minute.”
His lips meet yours in a bruising kiss and he slowly presses his cock into you.
“Fucking fuck, princess. You’re so tight for me.” His words are shaky against your mouth, as if he’s struggling to hold himself back from pressing into you all the way, from cumming with a singular touch.
You mewl his name on the breath that’s forced from your lungs with each inch he plunges into you. Gods, he looked big, felt bigger in your hand, and as he works his cock into your heat, you’re not too sure he’s going to fit all the way.
But the words he’s whispering into your ear, onto your skin have you melting. The finger he slips between your bodies to play with your clit is distracting enough to where you’re focused on the pleasure he’s pulling from you.
And then his cock hits that spot, nestles up against it when your hips meet, and you cry out in joy. “Right there, Azriel. You feel so good.” Your fingers dig into the long lines of muscle down his back, trying to hold him closer, as if you aren’t already touching in every way possible.
“Do you know how many times I’ve thought about this moment?” he asks you, accentuating his words with a slow roll of his hips that makes you both groan, your nails biting into his skin like the needle from his tattoo gun. It drags a shiver up his spine as a fleeting thought zips through his mind, one of you, naked and sitting on his cock, giving him another tattoo. He’ll teach you how to hold the tattoo gun and let you have free rein with it, because anything that you can give him, he wants. Azriel squeezes his eyes shut, trying not to burst at the visual. If anything, he can’t wait to coat your virgin skin in his ink. There is so much canvas for him to work with, all smooth and perfect, waiting for some artwork. “When you were touching yourself on that side of the wall,” he pants, pulling out and fucking back into you slowly. The drag of your walls so tight around his cock is perfect. He won’t last long.
You gasp as he bottoms out again, throwing your head back into the pillows. “You heard that?”
His hum is strained, and he can’t help but to kiss you. “You’ll have to show me how you touched yourself some day, princess.”
You moan loudly at the thought of that, gripping him tighter. Azriel sitting in his chair, charcoal poised above his sketchpad as he watches you with dark eyes, while you touch yourself to the thought of him. Just how he’s touching you now, tight, little circles around your clit.
“I heard you with that guy,” Azriel continues, and his thrusts become harsher, deeper. “With that fucker from the coffee house. I bet you faked it with him, all that laughing and sighing. I’m going to find out if those noises were real or not.” You shiver at his words, but Azriel couldn’t be further from wrong.
“We didn’t fuck,” you pant, bucking your hips up to meet his. Azriel makes a choked sound, canting his hips to hear you keen wildly at the change of angle. And then, because you know it will make him come undone, you say, “All of this is just for you, Az.”
Azriel nearly cums at those words alone. The coiling in his bones is so hot that he readjusts for better leverage, and fucks into you with abandon. Gods, he loves the way that you’re clinging to him, the way your cunt squeezes his cock tightly, like you never want to let him go.
He’s been a fucking fool all of this time. A Godsdamn fucking fool. He could’ve had you like this, milking his cock dry, making these sounds that threaten to tear the walls down. He could’ve had his hands all over you, because you seem to like the way that he’s touching you, even with how fucked up they are.
“I’m going to memorize everything about this perfect body of yours, princess,” Azriel groans, thrusting deeply. He can tell you’re on the verge of your own orgasm, with the way your cunt squeezes him, the way those gorgeous eyes roll into the back of your head and your mouth parts, letting out those filthy noises he revels in. “We’ve got all night. Let me see you cum again, princess. Cum all over my cock. Oh, fuck, princess. That’s it.”
Your orgasm rocks through you like a tidal wave, stealing your breath away. You hold onto Azriel like he’s your lifeline, trembling in the aftershocks. The white-hot pleasure coursing through your veins is incredible, and you wrench your eyes open at the sound of Azriel’s shaky warning.
Azriel follows you into serendipity. He wishes he were painting your body in white strokes. It’s always been far from his favorite color, but he thinks it could quickly become his favorite if he could see his cum splattered across your skin.
For the first time, you don’t care that it’s loud on this side of the wall.
Because you’re on it.
⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅
MM Taglist Part 1: @justvibbinghere @nickishadow139 @going-through-shit @honeycriess @natashachelsea @thisisew @kennedy-brooke @cat-or-kitten @sourapplex @magical-mischief-makers @reiincarnatiion @ccucumbers @secret-ly-here @throneofsmut @cami26cami @torchbearerkyle @a-frog-with-a-laptop @sevikas-whore @endless-worldss @vellichor01 @bangtans-jagiya @kalulakunundrum @pinksmellslikelove @sakurafrost3-blog @imxnotxhere @bookishbroadwaybish @justdreamstars @i-am-infinite @whichwitchisthebitch @i-am-a-lost-girl16 @sia-r @homeslices @quinzzelx @carlandonorri-s @juniper-july19 @ssmay123 @blackthorngirl @haivenhoule @18crazybutcutealsopsycho @bloodicka @wilmalovegood @jw83 @acourtofbatboydreams @hannzoaks @judig92
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Can you do a smut part 2 for “Waterloo” where clarisse gets really jealous and tells reader that if she breaks up with her boyfriend she will ✨reward✨ reader so reader breaks up with her boyfriend after some contemplating. When clarisse found out that reader actually broke up with him she drags reader somewhere and smut pursues.
THIS IS EXACTLY HOW I IMAGINED IT??!??! HOLYSHII
Take a chance with me
Clarisse La Rue X Daughter of Aphrodite!Reader
PART 2 OF WATERLOO
Summary: After the incident in the bathrooms, Clarisse decided she had enough of your pathetic excuse of a boyfriend.
Warnings: (Light) SMUT. Cursing and cheating, misogynists (Remind me if i missed one!)
Author's note: THIS TOOK KINDA LONG SINCE THIS IS A COLLABORATION WITH MY BESTFRIEND, I HOPE YOU GUYS LIKE THIS! (i added a little twist in the end)
Collab with -🍵 <33
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It was another painful day with your boyfriend, Keith. Camp Half-Blood was still in its normal route, Daily Practices, Bonfire singalongs, Games, But there's someone who you can't stop thinking about.
Clarisse
Her chapped lips moving in sync with your soft ones while your lipstick smudged. It was all tempting.
But now here you are, With you boyfriend's gang, trying not to cringe every time they made a bad joke, You could only stare at Clarisse from afar, while she trained with her siblings, Yelling at them at the same time.
I love charlie, But you aren't mine.
"How 'bout you, Y/n? why're you here? shouldn't you supposed to be in tea parties making friendship bracelets and painting your nails?" Asked logan, One of Keith's friends. Then, all of them started laughing, You looked at your boyfriend, trying to spot any signs of empathy, But he, himself laughed along with his friends.
That bitch.
Then you snapped.
"The only thing that you should be doing right now is to keep that pretty little mouth shut" They walked towards you, Your boyfriend, Keith had the same look they had, Rage. You wondered for a second, Why was he looking at you like that? Why was he siding with the people who wronged you?
"How about you? Logan? Shouldn't you be keeping an eye on your Godly parent since you haven't been claimed yet?" You raised a brow at him while looking stern, "I'm certain any God would be embarrassed to have you as their son. Hence being unclaimed for almost two years straight" Your lips curled into a small smirk as you watched his eyes widened in fury.
The gang then stood up and looked at you, eyes fuming with anger as if it could eat you alive. You never meant it, You even felt sorry for the poor boy, But you couldn't help it, They were like this every time you were with them, Is it so bad to stand up for yourself?
You stepped back, carefully analyzing their faces, keeping an eye for any upcoming blows or attacks, As they slowly walked towards you, You bumped into someone.
She held her head high, towering over you even though you were only two inch shorter than her. Seeing Clarisse, you felt relief wash over you, internally sighing, You let your guard down a bit, but not entirely.
Shit. You thought. Your mind panicked thinking that you got cornered by them and on instinct you immediately thought of using your charm speak, trying to find an escape route. Yet determined to fight against them you couldn't help but feel overwhelmed by the amount of people you're about to fight.
As you were trying to find the right words to use against them, You felt a strong body behind you, you quickly turned around and saw none other than Clarisse La Rue. Her usual intimidating demeanour still plastered on her face as she glared at the group of boys.
"Is anything the matter?" She asked, Her eyes darting from you to the group of boys.
"None of your damn business, La Rue. Let us do our thing" One of the boys, Yuan, said.
" By 'thing' you mean terrorizing MY 'friend' her to death?" Hearing those words you refrain to sneak a glance at Clarisse, As if she didn't just fucked you inside the camp bathroom days ago.
Someone scoffed, It was Keith. Looking at Clarisse with a judgeful look.
"She's MY girlfriend, La Rue. Therefore my property." He said with a boastful look. "Who are you to stick your nose around our business? You're just an outsider in this.. —" Registering Clarisse's words, he sent a scowling look towards you, Forgetting the current situation he turned around to face you fully. "L/n." There was it again. The use of your surname and that warning tone he uses whenever you two argue.
You loathed moments like this. Every argument you had with him you always felt belittled while trying to fight for your rights, but it always ends up with Keith shifting the blame to you every.single.damn.time. "What? Levine." You answered firmly, But this time, You aren't backing down this war of words.
Your expression changed, Your eyes says it all, But you kept your head high. When Clarisse was about to defend you, you quickly stretched out your arm to refrain her from doing anything rash. "You've got the nerve to say that when YOU'RE the one who's following them around, doing EVERY SINGLE THING that they asked for!"
Keith then sneered at you, He was never used to you talking back, But here you are, standing proudly, ready to defend yourself. But of course, he bites back. "Friends? really? Impossible, You know your mother and her father had relations, Long story short, Fucking. Plus, look at La Rue, Compared to her, You're just an attention seeking lapdog"
At that moment, Clarisse was ready to pierce her spear into your shitty boyfriend's head, Thinking about it.. the sight of him with his head pierced pooling with blood made her quite satisfied.
Keith's expression changed, He knew what was gonna happened, That's why he stepped up and approached you, Trying to hold your hand.
"I'm sorry baby" He whispered,as he got a hold of your hands. "You know I didn't mean to insult you like that, I love you Y/n, you know that right baby? I love you so much Y/n". Clarisse raised her dark brows, Looking at you, waiting for your response.
"Okay...I forgive you.." You whispered, Your breathing became normal and you didn't know why, You didn't know why you always give in his sugar coated lies but you couldn't refuse his touch and those doe eyes of his. You could've easily be more mad at him but you knew better than adding fuel to the fire when a lot of people are watching.
Not long after hearing your response, Keith then smiled 'sweetly' as he hugged you. Pressing his nose against your soft hair as he inhaled your sweet scent.
Clarisse's POV
Clarisse stood there awkwardly, Watching you with careful eyes wondering, Why the fuck you forgave him and why the the fuck were you still willing to be with that sick bastard.
__
I clutched my spear in hand, whilst watching Y/n from afar, Already with her pathetic excuse of a boyfriend. It had been a week since that incident in the mess hall happened, I wondered why she would submit easily to his will, Just a simple apology wouldn't make the cut.
Then, I saw her kiss her boyfriend's lips before getting up, the sight of keith's lips touching her was enough to make me gag. I wanted to talk to you, shooting one last glance at my half siblings, I slipped away and followed Y/n.
Y/n was heading towards the Amphitheatre, I suppose she was there to meet her friends, But before she could even reach the steps, I pulled her aside near the armory, When her back hit the wall, I slammed the door shut and opened the small light switch.
She was about to scream, But as soon as the light illuminated the room and revealed me, She closed her mouth and sighed.
"Clarisse..What—" Before she could even answer i cupped her cheeks and looked into her eyes, Her brows furrowed, Her eyes darting to my eyes and lips.
Then, I kissed her, Not because of passion, Because i was mad at her, Because she was still with the boy either of us hated, Mad at her for kissing him every stupid arguments when she was supposed to be mine. I kissed her hoping that this is the final time I get to kiss her in the shadows. "Break up with him." I said to her in a whisper as I pulled away from the kiss, her eyes widened in shock, lips quivering nervously or was it excitement?
I waited eagerly for her response, Imagining all of the things we could do together without her boyfriend sticking his nose into our business, wanting her back while she's still in my arms. My trance was broken when I saw her face deplete in a disagreeing expression, I immediately pecked her lips before whispering in her ear. "Because if you do, I might just give you a special reward in return"
I winked at her, My arms still gripping her waist, "What kind of reward?" She asked, Her eyes beaming with hope. I then caressed her cheeks "You'll have to find out"
That sentence made her think for a moment, I watched her carefully, Praying to the Gods that she will agree, So that I can finally hold her hand and kiss her right in front of everyone. Loudly and Proudly.
After a moment, I was rewarded with the sight of her nodding in agreement, "Yeah, I'll do it" I smiled, so widely that my cheeks hurt, But I couldn't care less, She also smiled, Making my heart melt as i felt her lips touch mine.
It was now the next day, the day after that talk you had with Clarisse in the armor room and the day you'll finally dump your shitty ass boyfriend. Making you way through out the camp you walk towards cabin 9, opening the door you welcomed yourself into your boyfriend's- well soon to be ex boyfriend's cabin. As you were about to call out his name you heard a noise, "What if someone sees us, Honey?" You heard a female voice say — It was between a moan and a gasp.
__
You walk into the room more careful not to disturb their "love making", you cleared your throat. "Excuse me?" you said in an uninterested tone, you watch the two quickly pull away from each other, Keith even pushed the girl away, making her yelp as her body hit the cold ground.
You peaked through the small corner that seperated you and— well, Keith and and his lover. The girl that Keith was kissing sat on top of the counter you onced sat, Her hands roaming around your soon to be ex's body, Followed by his groan. "Then let them see my love, let them see how much we love each other" Keith said to his lover while letting out a small breathy chuckle.
At first you wanted to back down from all of this and break down in your cabin but then you remembered Clarisse's words.. 'Break up with him. Because if you do, I might just give you a special reward in return'. That's when you realize you're not going to lose anything except a little bit of face and reputation,but you'll be free from your shitty boyfriend's manipulation, you'll be free from the toxicity of this relationship, you'll finally be with Clarisse.
"What was that for?!" She yelled, her hair disheveled, But keith ignored her, Stuttering and trying to find right words to explain what you just walked into.
"Sweethea-"
Before he could even explain, You slapped him, Fast and Sharp, He tumbled lightly, But thanks to his muscular body, he managed to keep his balance. Keith clenched his jaw.
"Save it, Keith. I don't wanna hear excuses coming from your mouth that once touched mine! You're disgusting"
You glared at the girl, ready to attack her, but your instinct stopped you, You looked at them with red eyes one last time before leaving. You didn't care if they started kissing again, You didn't care if they talked shit about you, All you cared about is that you're free.
After storming out of the hephaestus cabin, Your first thought was Clarisse, There was no more plotting on how to conduct your affair without him seeing, for the Gods see everything.
You then ran around camp, trying to spot your lover for you had missed her so dearly, craving her touch every second that passes by.
Then, You noticed every camper huddled into small groups, heading towards the camp fire, the ares cabin slowly emptying itself, But Clarisse was nowhere to be found, You felt disappointed but there was a little hope inside you, That's why you walked towards her cabin, You could've sworn you saw her silhouette, Peaking, You saw her sitting on the edge of her bed.
She looked- Nervous...? But her face changed when she saw you, The Ares girl stood up and ran towards you.
"Well?" She asked breathily, Waiting for the response that can change your lives.
"We're over, Him and I" Clarisse felt like a big heavy boulder has been lifted up her shoulders, She then proceeded to cup your cheeks, Her eyes glistening with love.
"Good, He doesn't deserve you" She whispered before kissing you, Pushing you into her bed, You groaned and ran your fingers through her messy curls as she bit your lower lip. You let out a small moan before feeling her palms going in your inner thighs, She pushed you, until you felt your legs touch her bed, She laid you down, straddling you. Clarisse pulled away, taking the matters into her own hands, she undressed you herself, revealing your red bra, It lifted your breasts, That made her smile, watching it rise up and down.
You then tugged on her shirt, Desperate to see her, Clarisse smiled and undressed herself, Her bra was a black one, with laces, But it didn't held your breasts up, It seems like her bra was merely a decoration.
It all then happened so fast, Clarisse's sweaty body pressed against yours as you two moaned, Legs intertwined, moaning each other's names. Her peppering your neck with hickeys mercilessly while her legs rubbed between your thighs creating unimaginable frictions, Her fingers inside you, Curling themselves. Clarisse watched you carefully, gasping and moaning gripping her sheets for dear life, She didn't care if her fresh sheets were stained, as long as it came from you.
Clarisse pressed her lips against your red ones, Gripping the back of neck, pressing you closer to her, she whispered "He doesn't love you like I do, Honey.." She then proceeded to kiss you, trailing her lips down to your breasts.
You two were so lost in eachother you didn't even noticed it, An invisible golden net dropped down the ceiling, You screamed as Clarisse fought against the net, But it was so strong and thin, No matter how hard Clarisse looked, She couldn't even see it. You and Clarisse both thrashed and fought against the metal, Until a shadow emerged from the doorway.
Keith.
He looked quite broken, seeing the scene before him, his face said it all, He had not want to believe it, and it hurt him...To the core.
For a second, Clarisse almost felt sorry for the wrench...Almost. But then his face hardened and he burst into a fury. He cursed obscenities to you, And then called out into everyone to see the shameful scene. And in their hoards, they came running. Clarisse turned to you and shielded you as best she can from their prying eyes. Courses of laughter ran out around us and The Hephaestus Boy looked satisfied.
He called out mocking words, and threatening to keep you and Clarisse naked and trapped for all eternity as a punishment.
But Clarisse held her head high and spoke;
"If i had a choice, There is no place i'd rather be...Trapped with the love of my life? What a punishment indeed..." Clarisse mocked him, Then all of the Demigods started laughing...But this time, at the little fool, Keith. And he shrunk in on himself, he turned red in embarrassment.
No one knew that you and keith had broken up, That's why you and clarisse were the hot gossip.
The Hephaestus boy stormed out, as the fit of laughter became louder, dragging with him the net that had trapped you two, But Clarisse couldn't care less, She demanded the door to be shut and be alone with you, so the campers did left.
As Selene crossed the skies with her silver chariot, You laid with Clarisse and dozed of, Still bare from the activities you guys had done.
And when Helios crossed the skies in the morning, Clarisse wrapped her arms around you and inhaled your scent, Knowing that you're hers...Loudly and Proudly.
A/N: HOLYSHI THIS TOOK SO LONG. I ADDED A LITTLE TWIST SINCE I WANNA MAKE THE 'The history book on the shelf, is always repeating itself' ACCURATE! WHATCHA THINK ABOUT IT? SORRY THIS TOOK LONG! <33 I HOPE YOU GUYS LIKE THIS!
-🍵
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“And I have talked to some genuinely mistreated men, and that was, indeed, how they reacted; they come up to me and say things like, “I really get what you’re talking about, because I actually had a pretty similar experience.” So I get immediately suspicious of a man who stands up angrily, and starts growling, “Why aren’t you talking about this happening to men?? This happened to me!!” This style of guy doesn’t express any caring about what is happening to women. Nor does he express any gratitude towards the women and men who are working to assist abused women and to stop abusers. There’s no sign that he feels any sense of common ground with abused women. So I don’t buy his story. I think what he’s really mad about is that we won’t shut up about what so many men are doing to women.”
“Twenty years or so ago, we started to hear that it was important to talk more about male victims. The argument was that it would give our movement against domestic violence more appeal, because men would realize that it can happen to them too. We’d broaden our reach. It’s been a tremendous mistake.”
“The domestic violence movement has de-genderized itself. The programs are now called “domestic violence programs,” not “abused women’s programs” as they were known before. We talk about abusers and victims as “he or she,” ignoring statistics that show that it’s overwhelmingly male-on-female. When we talk about the issue, we try to make sure we aren’t hurting men’s feelings with too much truth-telling. Has this broadened and strengthened our movement? No, not a bit. The domestic violence movement is far weaker than it was twenty years ago, not stronger. Many, many of the gains that we made are now being stripped away, more every year. (Women’s rights in general are being stripped away in our times, as you have most likely noticed.)”
“Don’t be apologetic about making women your agenda. Don’t apologize for putting women’s needs and rights front and center. When someone tells you that you should be talking about male victims too, I encourage you to respond, “There are hundreds of issues in this world that need to be addressed. Are you saying that I can’t address what happens to women unless I also address every other wrong that happens in the world? Why isn’t it okay to make women my focus?””
Excerpts from: Lundy Bancroft. Men’s Angry Messages to Me Part 2. November 14, unknown.
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POCO LOCO FOR HOCO .. miles morales ⟡
“there she is! ganke! my dream girl.”
✦ synopsis miles had been crushing on you since freshman year. of course he couldnt confront you about it, even if he believed he was naturally smooth with the ladies. but today was the day.
✦ genre hugs n cuddles
✦ disclaimer none!
✦ note! the title isnt corny shut up
“man, come on.” ganke sighed. miles wanted to ask you out to the homecoming dance since he really adored you. having a crush that didnt wind down for over a year was taking a toll.
miles paced against the marble floor of the hall as people passed by. he was a nervous mess, and ganke wasn’t helping much. “i knoww.. i know!” he crossed his arms, “come on, miles. it’s just homecoming.”
miles gave him a bothered stare and put his hands on his hips, “it isn’t ‘just homecoming,’ ganke! we’re talking about asking the girl i’ve liked for a year, two months, five days, and 2 hours to go to homecoming with me here! lighten up, would ya?”
“you’ve been pacing in the same hallway for the last 15 minutes. i’m getting dimmer and dimmer.” ganke slammed his hands on miles’ shoulders and gave him an inspired look. “you got this. you bought her flowers, tickets, the sign…”
it was a corny spiderman pun he got off the internet a few days before. i mean, it was an attempt. “… could have been better, but we were running short on time. so to sum it up—go get your girl.”
“…thanks man, that was really enli-”
“before someone else does. now go!” he shoved him into you, making you jump in surprise. he was really nervous and sweaty. he wouldn’t know what to do if you said no.
“oh! miles, right?” he was surprised you knew his name, he isnt that well known around visions. he was at one point, on like the first day of school of freshman year. “yep! t-that’s me.”
“i almost never see you around, though. and i know most people in here.” well, crap.
“i just… do a lot of online school! yeah, yeah, i get sick a lot,” he fake coughed while turning his head away, “weak immune systems, y’know?”
ganke facepalmed in the background and gestured miles to get it done and over with before their break ends. he swallowed shakily, “so, i wanted to ask you something.” you rose your eyebrow.
shuffled and pulled out the poster that he made last night, which had a pun writing of “just like spiderman saves the day, will you save a dance for me at hoco?" it looked like he spent a lot of time on it too. “so… will you..?”
“i…” you didnt plan on going to homecoming with anyone, actually. but it was too cute of a proposal “i’d love to.”
his face lit up of sunshine. ganke gave him a thumbs up from just over your shoulder. he hasn’t been this happy in a while. “seriously? like you mean it?” you nodded, “what made you ask me, though?”
“it was a choice.” you giggled a little. “same thing for your shoelaces?”
“you already know me so well, jeez!”
@ mayearies , no swiping!
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About You Pt4
Sebastian Vettel x Webber!Reader
Summary: Everyone knows about the history of Sebastian Vettel and Mark Webber. But there's a well kept story within the paddock about Sebastian Vettel and another Webber. This is that story.
About You Series 1, 2, 3, 4, 5
A/N: took me a while to update but here it is! Let me know your thoughts about this
Taglist: @spideybv28@randomcuboidshape @mehrmonga @casperlikej @cliosunshine @honethatty12 @randomgirlnumber-13 @sugyomama @ririyulife @skywalker1dream @vicurious28 @cristianovettel
2010, Bahrain International Circuit
Seb: Hey, did you already leave? Can we talk?
Seb: Happy holidays Y/N, I hope you are spending time with the family
Seb: Its a new year, I hope you get a better year.
Seb: Aren't you going to pre-season testing?
Seb: Hope to see you in Bahrain
Y/N sighed as she read the messages over and over again. It's quite an asshole move to leave Sebastian on read but Y/N couldn't bring herself to reply to the messages because she was hurt by their last conversation. The heavy feeling is even more aggravated because all she ever wanted was to hear a simple sorry from Sebastian.
Unfortunately, that's the only message that Sebastian hasn't sent.
"Are you still not talking with Sebastian?"Mark enters the room.
Mark knew that Sebastian and Y/N had a fallout after Abu Dhabi. At first, he was a bit clueless about what's happening but with Y/N constantly shutting herself in her room and Mark getting a glimpse of the one-sided conversation-it was difficult to ignore it.
The whole thing became even more hard to ignore when Sebastian resulted to texting Mark over the winter break to check on Y/N. Mark tried to ask Sebastian about what happened but Sebastian said that he just said some things that can make a friend feel hurt.
Bullshit, that's what Mark said in his mind. He knew that her sister won't be moping and act like this if its something as simple as that.
"I don't wanna talk about him" she grumbled.
"You know that you have to talk to him eventually"Mark ever the rational "He is our co-worker and we have to be professional in work."
It's something that Y/N knows. She knows that she will not place her professionalism in jeopardy but as much as she could she would delay talking to Sebastian. Her fear is that if she ends up forgiving Sebastian, without him asking for it, then this situation might repeat again.
"I won't let work interfere with Seb"Y/N assured.
There was a silence between the two Webbers. It was a comfortable silence where they seem to be using their siblings communication signals to determine if they should push the topic or not.
"He got pole position today, it might give Red Bull a fight for championship don't you think" Mark offered "Maybe you can talk to him like congratulate him for a conversation starter"
"I'm well-aware Mark, I have been watching the qualifying"
She was actually debating whether she would say a simple congrats knowing how proud Sebastian is with his pole. If this was last year, she would have been there at the parc femme. However, things aren't easy like that.
"You can talk to me about anything okay?" Mark reminded. Maybe at the back of Mark's head, he feels like there are more to this than just a petty friendship fight. But he didn't want to push her sister to being annoyed with his constant questions.
"I promise I will when the time is right."
"You know maybe if Sebastian loses the race then maybe you should see it as a sign to talk to him"Mark joked a bit to lighten the mood
"That's mean"Y/N playfully punched her brother "That's never going to happen he is on pole"
"Why not if he does not get a podium finish then you will talk to him"
"Are you seriously jinxing your team Mark?"Y/N laughed
"Okay, that's a deal"
"I tell you that its never gonna happen"Y/N assured.
And its like the universe played a cruel joke on Y/N, Sebastian did not have a podium finish. He still finished 4th but knowing Sebastian, the German driver is obviously frustrated.
Mark did not finish well but he has this knowing smirk on his face as he nudged his sister's ribs. Y/N resisted the urge to slap him at the back of his head since they were in front of a lot of Red Bull sponsors.
"Go on and talk to him" Mark whispered"I promise to behave here"
Y/N took a detour to the catering and grabbed an orange. She immediately went to Sebastian's driver room where she saw Britta exiting.
"Y/N, what are you doing here?" she quizzed the younger Webber "I thought you and Seb weren't in speaking terms"
"Well I think with what happened today then I have to check up on him"Y/N replies.
Britta could just hug Y/N because she knows that Sebastian was really in a terrible mood after losing out the podium. It would mean a lot for Y/N to speak to Sebastian before Britta could bring him back for media duties.
"I'll stall the media for a bit, I'm giving you 10 minutes okay?" BrItta informed
"Thanks B"
Y/N felt nervous whether how to start a conversation with Sebastian. She fiddles with the orange in her hand as she walked in the room to seek the German driver.
"Seb?"
Sitting in the corner of the room, Sebastian looked up. His eyes were red, obviously from crying, and his hair was in complete disarray.
"Y/N?" Sebastian was confused "You're here?"
"I figure you need an orange"
In essence, Y/N didn't want to brush things off like that. She didn't want to appear out of the blue and be friends with Sebastian again. But the moment that Sebastian hugged her, it all melted away. She thought of nothing else as she missed this.
Sebastian too was thinking of the same thing. He wanted to apologize in person and he wanted to do it right now. However, he didn't want to ruin the moment. He just got her back.
Somehow its both of their fault that they brush off things like that.
2010, Albert Park
Sebastian, Mark, and Y/N arrived in Australia a couple of days before the race so as tradition goes Sebastian was once again a guest to Webber's family dinners. Sebastian feels at home with the family and even helped with the dinner preparations.
"Where's Y/N" Mr. Webber asked
"Y/N went to the market to buy some lemons that mum needs" Mark informed "She should have been here an hour ago"
"Should I give her a call?" Sebastian asked
Like a perfect cue, the door opens revealing Y/N.
"I'm sorry I'm late, I got a little bit of a car problem and its a good thing that I got someone to help me. "Y/N greeted "I hope you don't mind setting up another plate for dinner"
Of course, no one minded. The table was big enough to add guests. Sebastian was bringing the plates to the dining room when he was surprised to see Jenson Button standing there.
"What are you doing here" Sebastian was quick to ask
"Jenson is the one that helped me fix my car, thank God for drivers right?" Y/N replies
This annoyed Sebastian greatly but he knows that he cannot let his emotions get the best of him. He remembered how he acted the last time in Abu Dhabi and he surely doesn't want a repeat of that. It's just so annoying that Jenson Button is always at the scene of the crime when it comes to Y/N.
"Jenson?" Mark was also confused "You are in Australia early"
"Got an early flight, I was touring around and then I saw Y/N" Jenson smiles.
Knowing the previous history of Y/N and Jenson, Mark was also very skeptical. The seating arrangement ended up with Y/N between Mark and Sebastian while Jenson is sitting across Sebastian.
Dinner went on great, the dishes were great, but Sebastian could not shake this horrible feeling in his stomach. He hated how Jenson was mingling well and joking around with the whole family. Jenson had a way with Mrs. Webber, complimenting her food and the homey space decorations.
Still, Sebastian tried to push the green monster of envy away.
"Jenson, didn't you date my daughter Y/N before?" Mr. Webber remembered
"DAD"Y/N and Mark immediately hissed
"What, I'm just curious that's all" the eldest Webber defended
Jenson had a boyish smirk gracing his face and Sebastian wanted to punch that smirk on his face. He knew that if he didn't punch Jenson then Mark would.
"Well we went on a date for one time but that's it were good friends" Jenson explained
"But why Y/N, Jenson seems like a good lad plus he is a world champion" Mrs Webber butted in.
She seems to have grown fond of the British driver in such a short span of time. Her fondness is a stark contrast to the irritation that Sebastian has been feeling.
"Me and Jense are cool as friends, right?" Y/N cleared out
"Well if you wanna go on a date again, I wouldn't mind"Jensen jokingly stated.
Jealousy is a disease that Sebastian Vettel is inflicted with. Maybe its because Jenson already has two things that he really wanted which is a championship and a date with the girl he really liked. But whatever Sebastian was feeling, he kept it at bay for the sake of peace.
Anyways, he can run over Jenson on track.
2010, Sepang International Circuit
Y/N has to say that this is a very difficult start of the season for Red Bull. Mark and Sebastian went on winning poles yet they haven't won during the actual races. To say that she was ecstatic to see the Red Bull P1-P2 for today's race is not enough to describe how she is feeling.
Looking up at the podium and seeing the two drivers smiling at each other, Y/N took that opportunity to snap a photo of them. She prayed for more weekends like this as both drivers deserve this kind of victories.
Once the celebration ended, she went back to the motorhome to get her things and to meet up with the two drivers. However, she saw a group of Red Bull crew huddled up in a corner.
It was not her business to eavesdrop but hearing her brother's name being mentioned, she stayed hidden to hear what they have to say.
"Mark is an unfortunate case, he could have won today" one of them voiced out "He was at fault for losing his pole advantage a while ago"
"True and Vettel is obviously a better driver, look at him creating history and he just started last year"another mechanic agreed.
"I heard from Helmut that Vettel will be there championship bet"
"What happens to Mark then?"
"He will settle being a second driver and defending Sebastian obviously"
"Do you think Mark would agree?"
"If I were Mark, I would look for another team. There is no chance for a championship here if my teammate is obviously better than me"
All the highs that she has been feeling a while ago has faded into nothingness. Y/N felt herself conflicted with the situation ahead. If what they are saying is true then Y/N would be the one that will be in the middle of that battlefield.
This is Mark's dream for so long to win a championship. He have done his best to improve himself, she has seen the sleepless nights he had and how hard he tries to get a podium win every single race.
On the other hand, Y/N has also seen Sebastian's tears whenever he failed to finish or deliver. She knows that Sebastian lives and breathe racing for as long as he can remember. He wanted a championship badly as well.
It is just unfair that one of them has to compromise for the team. There shouldn't be a first driver or second driver but Y/N understands that every team had this. She felt miserable as she remembered hearing what happened to Rubens when he was the second driver to Michael Schumacher. She didn't want anyone to feel that way, ever.
"Y/N! Hello earth to Y/N"
In her deep thoughts, she haven't noticed that Mark and Sebastian was in front of her. Both were still in their race gear and the champagne smell wafts through the air.
"Oh, I didn't see you there Mark and Seb" Y/N emphasized loudly on their last name so that those gossip crew would be aware that the two are around.
"You're acting weird, we have been calling you for a long time already." Mark confusedly stated.
"Never mind about that, I just got a lot of things going on" Y/N assured
"Hey Nico invited us for dinner, let's celebrate?" Sebastian asked
"Sure, sure"
The two Red Bull drivers are laughing and joking around as they walked around with Y/N. Y/N tried to smile and join them but there was something that has been bugging her head.
In the end, she will put that conversation she heard of in the back of her head. She prays that it never happens because if she will be forced to choose sides, she didn't want to do that.
2010, Monte Carlo Circuit
Sebastian remembered how last year, Y/N has been a bit sick during Monaco so she was unable to do a yacht trip. Mark kept on sending her photos. It was meant to be a good gesture and to let her know that he misses her but it only made Y/N a lot more upset. She ended up texting Sebastian and whining about how that stupid stomach bug made her miss out this golden opportunity.
Yacht trips and the lavish life of Monaco is certainly not Sebastian's style. This is why it is common that he would be the last person to go to Monaco and the first one to leave. So just imagine everyone's surprise when he was in Monaco 3 days early for race week and he was going around looking for yacht trips.
It comes even more of a surprise when Y/N Webber has also been spotted in Monaco quite early for the race. No Mark Webber in sight though which raises everyone's eyebrows.
"So care to explain to me what are we doing?" Y/N asked.
She was dying of curiosity ever since Sebastian asked her to come early to Monaco. It was rare that Sebastian was so secretive because he will normally blabber everything to her.
"I'm not telling you until we get there" comes Sebastian's teasing comment.
"Oh c'mon I flew all over the world to see you"
"It's worth it, I promise"
Sebastian drove around Monaco and finally reaching the docks. He can feel that Y/N has the gears in her head already turning. There was an excited look on her face when she realized what they are about to do.
"Sebastian Vettel, tell me you did not!"Y/N tried to control her excitement "Are we really going on a yacht trip?"
"Well its your birthday week so I figure you might need a tour around Monaco on a yacht"Sebastian's nonchalant answer caused Y/N to scream.
It was a dream come true for Y/N. She had been dreaming of going around Monaco on a yacht for so long but her duties as Mark's assistants coupled by several unfortunate events prevented her from doing that dream.
Sebastian led her to the yacht and the two set off for an entire day of the yacht experience. Y/N wouldn't know but Sebastian specifically learned how to yacht for this purpose and this purpose only. He also called Mrs. Webber to ask for Y/N's favorite dishes so he has them prepared for lunch and dinner.
The whole day was spent floating around Monaco. They took a swim at one point and now they are lounging at the front while waiting for the sun to set.
"This is really a lot of effort Seb, thank you" Y/N began "I really appreciate this whole day"
If only Sebastian could tell her that he should be the one thanking her. Seeing her happy makes him extremely happy.
"It's nothing much" that's how Sebastian managed to answer
Y/N rolls her eyes, she sees right through that lie. Maybe for Sebastian this is nothing much but for her who doesn't earn as much as an F1 driver then this is really a lot.
"Oh before I forget, I still have one gift left" Sebastian said "Here you go"
It was a small black box with a gold ribbon. There was a scrawl on it in Sebastian's handwriting saying happy birthday Y/N. It made the girl raise her eyebrows.
"Seb I can't accept this, this seems really pricey"
Y/N got that right. Sebastian spent a long time looking for this gift since he customized it and it took a while for it to be created. But of course, Sebastian won't admit to that.
"Just take it" Seb pushed the gift back to her.
"I'm scared to open it" she whines
"Okay what if you don't open it and then I'll just hand it to you" Sebastian suggested "That way then you can't give it back"
"Got it, should I close my eyes to prepare myself"
"Go ahead"
Its so cliche for the two of them as it looks like it was taken from a movie scene. Sebastian unwrapped the gift and took the necklace out of the velvet pouch. It shimmers against the setting sun as he placed the necklace gently on her hand.
"You can open your eyes now" Sebastian said
Y/N lets out a soft gasp upon opening her eyes. It was a silver chained blue diamond necklace. There was some eerie similarities with the heart of the ocean necklace from titanic but this one is like the less flashier version. Sebastian have heard multiple stories back in the Webber household how Y/N absolutely loved Titanic as a little kid and Sebastian couldn't think of anything more iconic as gifting her a very own version of the heart of the ocean.
"Seb, you're making me cry. This is too beautiful" Y/N muttered in awe.
"I always see you fiddling with your necklace when you are nervous especially when someone crashed or its a wet race" Sebastian explained "I hope this can help assure you that everything will be alright"
Y/N felt speechless and she could feel the utter care that was placed in this gift. So what she does next is remove the necklace hanging on her neck.
"What's this?" it was now his turn to be puzzled.
"Well I can't wear this necklace and that at the same time" Y/N reasoned "So I'm giving you my necklace. Its my star sign, taurus which is represented by a bull so red bull"
Sebastian looked at the necklace in his hand. He felt very grateful and it seems like a charm for him to carry to his races.
"Thank you"
There was so much more that Sebastian wanted to say but he couldn't ruin this moment. He was happy to make her happy even if its just a friend.
Soon, he tells himself.
If he wins in Monaco then he would gather all his courage to ask her out. He will give everything for this race this weekend so he can finally stop this dilly-dallying. He gives out a silent wish to the universe that they make his wish come true.
News flash, Sebastian didn't win the Monaco GP 2010.
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— ADMIRE. ❞
part 1 — part 2
Bada Lee x Original Character!:
— in which Bada unexpectedly gets to see and battle her long-time idol and crush on a survival show she was in, Street Woman Fighter.
— Everyone expected that Jam Republic would be only full of western dancers, so imagine when they found out that the "Queen of Dance" in the Korean Dance industry was joining the survival show Street Woman Fighter.
note: I do not own any of the people here nor the show except for Lea Chang. This was also made for entertainment purposes only.
This is also my first time writing in Tumblr so please excuse me if there are any mistakes and I hope you like this small chapter!
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"I'm so glad you could make it!" A woman's voice called out speaking in English as she embraced the tall female figure in front of her. She was Kirsten Dodgen, a very respectable western dancers that is part of the crew that everyone knew, the Royal Family.
"Well, I wouldn't refuse an offer from an old friend." The said tall female replied to Kirsten as she hugged her back.
"I thought you had the schedule packed, especially knowing you're the Queen of Dance, Lea." Kirsten said with a wide smile on her face, excited to finally be able to dance with her closest friend again, this time as a crew.
Lea Chang, a woman with chin length hair with strands of ash blonde highlights, sharp yet beautiful features and a lean body type that looks a bit musculine, she's the definition of a woman who can melt all genders. Her dance style going far with variety types of dance, hence her title 'Queen of Dance'. Not only that, her aura was dominating, fierce and full of confidence. Her sense of style going through they oversized boy-ish clothes with rare feminine styles.
Going from one battle to another from the past and choreography being one of her strongest points these past few years, but that does not mean she can't battle anymore, no. Even if it had been years since she had battled, she still polishes her dance just incase this type of situation happens.
"Ready to meet the others?" Kirsten excitedly asked Lea who nodded her head yes. Grabbing her by the arm she led her friend to one of the dance practice rooms where the other crew of Jam Republic are.
"Ain't no freaking way!" A voiced called out as both Kirsten and Lea stepped into the room. Immediately, all three people inside stood up straight in shock.
"Lea Chang!?!"
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All teams except Jam Republic has been settled down on the battle ground. The tension was high as every crew glanced at each other in unease, it was to be expected as this was a survival show, a competition where everyone wants to be the best and show that they are the best.
Suddenly the large screen showed the logo of Jam Republic making everyone stiffen at their seat in anticipation.
"Woah, it's really Jam Republic." One of the members of Deep n' Dap muttered outloud.
"I can't believe I get to see Kirsten in person!" A member of Mannequeen also said as they waited for the crew to step down the stairs.
"I remember signing up for one of Kirsten's classes and even went up early just to see her but they said her flight got cancelled, I literally cried when I found out!" One member of Deep n' Dap whine out to one of her crew before getting shutted up by her leader.
"Sh! Stop it, this is a competition!" Mina Myoung, the said leader warned her member.
"Right! Get out!" The member said while throwing her hands out acting as if she threw something.
"Woah, this is so cool!" A voice exclaimed in amazement as they stopped by the door frame of the entrance. It was Kirsten and her crew, the Jam Republic. All five of them began talking about how amazing the set was as they walked through the large hall down to the battle ground.
"Wah, look at how she carries herself."
"So cool!"
Jam Republic stood in the middle of the stage looking at the large screen in front of them waiting for the words of the other crew.
"This is harsher than I thought.." Kirsten muttered as she heard the translation of the other crew's view of them.
"She's a fake royal family."
"Where is Parris Goebell?"
"Woah, that's really harsh." Nob, the leader of LadyBounce muttered as she sneakily glanced at Jam Republic nervously.
"She just has a pretty face, there's nothing more."
"Look at how high her shoulders are! You can't even see her pretty face!"
Two no-respect stickers for Kirsten and Lattice, six no-respect stickers for Audrey. Seeing this, Audrey cheerfully raised two thumbs up smiling widely at everyone making them chuckle at her.
"She must be thrilled."
"Thumbs up? What does she mean?"
After Jam Republic seated the lights suddenly changed before the large door revealed the mc, Kang Daniel.
"Hello. Welcome to Mnet's original dance series, Street Woman Fighter 2, and I'm your host, Kang Daniel. Not only will we see the competitions between some of the best dance crews in Korea, but we have gone international this season - with global named crews, making the competition more intense." Everyone cheered and clapped for him as he continued to explain the first mission.
"You'll fight to crush all the other crews and reach the top. Only one crew can do that. Here's the first dance battle to be the winner of this competition." This made everyone cheer louder in anticipation, Kang Daniel did a pretty good job at hyping everyone up.
"The signature of the dance series is your first mission, the no-respect battle with the weakest dancer."
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"The first no-respect battle is... 1Million Redy." 1million cheered as the hyped up Redy who was adjusting her beany and sleeves before walking up on the stage with a mic on her hand.
"The person I pick as the weakest dancer is..." Redy pauses adding a dramatic effect to the tension building up in the whole room before looking towards BEBE. "Bebe, Bada Lee."
Everyone howled in excitement for the battle as Bada the leader of Bebe only nodded her head while flipping her bottle of water before walking up the stage.
"Let's go Bada!"
"Captain you got this!"
"Kick her ass, Redy-yah!"
"I just don't respect you. That's it." Said Ready as she made a cutting motion before handing the mic to her leader.
"Bada Lee from Bebe, do you have any words?"
"Not Redy, Soobin-nah! To me you're no older than an 8th grade." Bada dissed the 1million dancer who shrugged seemingly unaffected.
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"Is the mic fine now?" A woman questioned the staff who did a last minute check up on the mic before nodding in confirmation. Sighing and shaking her arms she began to stride towards the long hallway to the stairs of the battle ground.
She was late due to the mic malfunction, turns out they gave her the wrong pair and went to find another one for the last one and a half hour. It made her a bit upset on how sloppy the new staffs are on these kind of shows now but it was done so now she was on her way to her crew.
She took a bit longer walking as she saw that the mission has already started. Redy was the first one to dance, although she must admit. The young woman was good at using the fluidity of her body but...
"There's no impact." She muttered as she slowly became uninterested with the battle until it was time for the other one to dance.
Bada, the woman knew her from all those viral tiktoks and videos all around her feed. She was admittedly very good, making iconic dances, the way she moves her body and the way you could see she enjoys what she's doing. You could say that the woman was a bit of a fan.
Seeing Bada dance personally now, was a new experience. It's better than through the screen. The quality, isolations and etc. was top notch. It made her feel something new ever since she kept watching her through her screen.
"You interest me, Bada.."
Seeing as the battle ended, Bebe gaining a win. The woman decided that it was time to head down, her clanking on the pavement. Everyone heard her coming down making them look at the stairs in wonder.
"Is there another member on the other crew?"
"Is it another judge?"
"Yah, Jam Republic is smiling do you think it's another member of theirs?"
Everyone gasped at the figure that's walking down the stairs.
"Wait hold on!"
"Are you serious?!"
"She's participating in this show?!"
"I lost! I don't wanna be here anymore!"
"There is no way that Lea Chang is battling in this show!"
That's right, it's Lea Chang. The one and only Queen of Dance. Everyone was shocked even the judges because they weren't informed by this. Was this last minute?
"Woah! This is insane!" Monika, one of the judges exclaimed in shock as she watched Lea walked down the stairs with a dominant aura that covered the whole room. To say she was a fan was an understatement. The same could be said for Mike and Shownu as they both looked up to the dancer even when she was younger than them.
"I'm getting goosebumps just from watching her alone!"
"She's so tall, taller than Bada!"
"Woah, now that's an aura of a queen."
"Which crew is she in?!"
Everyone watched as she stepped towards...Jam Republic?! Staring at her as she took a seat next to Kirsten.
"I thought Kirsten was going to be a challenge but Lea?! Lord what have I done to see such a powerful duo?" Yoonji from Mannequeen jokingly—or is she—prayed to the gods.
Lea was just sitting casually as she glanced at everyone who tried to avoid eye contact with her. She knew she was popular and scary but not this much, it made her sweatdrop awkwardly chuckling inwardly.
Her eyes landed on a certain leader of Bebe, who tried not to seem nervous as she stared right back onto the queen who has been her idol since she started dancing. Lea noticed how nervous Bada must've looked because she smiled at her—well it looked like a smirk— making her flustered and look the other way.
This made Lea chuckle at how cute the Bebe leader was before settling down her gaze somewhere.
This show might be more interesting than expected.
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Finders Givers | Part 2
“STEVEN MARION HARRINGTON.”
“Not my middle name.” Although Robin had made several valiant attempts in guessing it every time she needed to burst into his office all guns blazing. Which was unfortunately… often. She still hadn’t managed to crack it.
He didn’t actually have a middle name. He wasn’t going to tell her that though, this was funnier.
She slapped a sheaf of papers down onto his desk, a brief flick of the first page told him they were call logs and transcripts “What did you DO?! Claudia’s been getting calls all morning asking about renovations?”
“Okay, so, in my defence. It was Nancy’s idea.” That was his whole defence. It was Nancy’s idea. His idea had been worse.
“Explain.”
“You know, most people in my position don’t have to explain themselves to people who work for them, their people just respect them, and do as they say without argument.” He mused, mostly to himself, but he could see the woman’s eye twitch in annoyance and so he sighed in defeat, it’d only wind up with him having those papers whapped around his head. “Remember the wallet I found?”
“The one that was bumming you out?”
“Yeah! Well, when I went out for a walk, I found the guys work address and—”
“You know we have guys who do that sort of shit for us, right? You can’t be stalking people, Dingus, what the fuck?” That sheaf of papers was dangerously close to hitting him. She’d picked them back up an everything.
“Just listen! He was at work, I didn’t talk to him or anything I’m not stupid, but... his manager made this girl cry so he just decked him, laid him out, one punch an he was down, then he just quit his job, right there, shit was spectacular.” Steve could appreciate a good bit of muscle, could appreciate a scrapper. Plus the guy was hot so, that helped. “Doesn’t look like his photo either, he’s got so much hair, Robs, it’s... wow, he’s just—”
“Ew, I don’t wanna hear about your crush on some random guy, what’s this got to do with these renovations Claudia’s being spammed over?”
“Okay so, guy lost his job.”
“Quit, quit his job.”
“Defending a ladies honour, something I thought you’d appreciate.” She raised a single unimpressed brow “but, I... I was gonna just send him rent money for a few months, y’know, cover a few bills, charity!” His heart was in the right place, his head however, his head was in space.
“That’s not charity that’s stupidity, but go on.”
“That’s what Nance said! Apparently it’d be suspicious if I were to be found sending large amounts of cash in nondescript envelopes to an apartment block notorious for drug activity, so she suggested that since I’m already buying that bar nearby, it’d look less conspicuous if I just... bought the building the guy lives in and claim I was developing it, make it seem like I have an interest in building up local problem areas.” She frowned, silent in her thoughts as she processed.
“... And what about the rent forgiveness?”
“I was gonna pay for his rent, might as well just not have him pay rent, y’know? An it’s gotta be building wide or there’ll be questions, like why is he so special, it’d put him under scrutiny. So Nance suggested putting a stop on rent as we ‘renovate’ as a sort of, we’re disrupting your life so here’s a break for you kinda deal.” Honestly Nancy really was a life saver, he really ought to give her a raise, he’d have been fucked over years ago had he not pulled her into the fold.
“So that means we’re actually going to have to renovate this block then?”
“I mean—”
“Were going to have to renovate this block, Steve. We can’t just forgive the rent forever, that’s bonkers, that would raise eyebrows, and we can’t afford eyebrows being raised at us right now. So you’re going to have to have professionals go in and survey the apartments inside for renovations.” This was now an actual thing he’d have to do.
“Ah well, gives me something to occupy my time with. Also I was thinking—”
“Never a good sign”
“Shut up, I was thinking of putting Argyle in there as a plant, like... the drugs being peddled out of that block are just trash, at least we could get a solid dealer in there and get Argyle out of the Wheelers basement.” He’d only been staying there because Joyce didn’t have a basement and Jonathan didn’t have room for him.
He was Jonathan's friend, and Jonathan came with Nancy, Steve didn’t have any reason to help him out. Now he did! And that reason was getting those poor people better weed.
“Are you not worried that the existing dealers will start shit with him for moving into their turf?”
“They touch him they deal with Hargrove, he's been particularly irritable lately, anything could set him off, pretty sure he’d be jazzed to break a few legs.” Release some of that pent up rage he seemed so good at bottling up in tiny easily burstable bottles. “One visit from that nut job and they’ll settle right down.”
He didn’t like Hargrove, but he had to admit the guy was a useful enforcer. Indebted to Steve too after Jane had taken a nail imbedded baseball bat to his old employers head in a bid to help her friend Max escape the debt her stepdad had racked up with him. Billy had also been freed, being Max’s step brother, left unmoored and in danger of a jail cell.
Steve had taken them both in after getting rid of Creels corpse. It was Hopper’s idea. Billy wouldn’t have survived in jail, too many enemies in there.
“It only takes one hit to hurt Argyle beyond repair though, maybe get rid of the dealers in there already, then give Argyle one of the apartments.”
“See you’re already on board!” And there was the whack round the head with the papers, his sharp objection going ignored.
“Fine, I’m on board, but only because it’s Nancy’s idea.” She was retreating as she spoke “Yours was a trash fire, like, not just one of those little oil barrel fires I mean like a whole dumpster fire. Argyle stays out until it’s safe though, I mean it Steve, I will get Hopper involved.” She opened the door, ready to go.
“You can’t threaten me with my own Chief of Police! That’s so mean!”
“Watch me, dingus. Also you have two people downstairs from your little block purchase wanting more information, do you wanna deal with them or should I?”
“Do you think I could actually spin a good idea to explain this that won’t get immediately reworked by either you or Nance?” She paused, a thoughtful expression on her face that answered his question more than any actual answer would have. “Exactly, you deal with it, you’re better at timelines an stuff anyway.” He was more the big idea guy.
“Yeah but you’re better at people.” It was true, Steve was more the people person out of the two of them. “Fine, I’ll deal with it, and I’ll ask Nance to find some decent contractors to do the work for us. Maybe… drop into my office in like, ten minutes? Considering you let your dick lead you to places I wouldn’t even go with a gun, you should at least make an appearance for these people whose lives you’ve interrupted.”
“Ngghhh fine. Fine. I’ll be there in ten.” And she was out with a tiny salute as her goodbye.
Part 4
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ART DECO PART 2!₊˚⊹♡
characters: valentino x gn!reader
wc: 1.7k
warnings: cursing, canon!valentino (he doesn't mind vox's bad actions towards other people), insanely angsty.
series masterlist!
You're half awake and disorientated. Valentino got up to find out who was at the door 10 minutes ago, and frankly, you're getting worried.
Against your better judgement, you throw on his shirt from the night before and make your way out of the bedroom.
You enter the living room to be met face to face with Vox.
Shit.
You briefly wonder if you can play it off, fabricate a story, tell him it's not what it looks like!
Apart from, it's exactly what it looks like.
Someone from Vox's assistance team saw you and Val enter his room together after the meeting. And now you're here, in his living room, wearing nothing but his shirt. And your shoes are by the front door. And there's a wine glass abandoned on the counter.
There's no getting out of this one.
Valentino wants to scream, yell at you to go back to his room. He wants to pick you up and throw you out of sight, praying Vox hasn't noticed all the tell tale signs. But it's too late. He has.
"Okay. Uh - what the fuck is going on?"
Vox asks the question while looking between the two of you like some sort of cartoon character doing a double take. It doesn't require a genius to figure it out, but he needs to hear one of you say it out loud.
"Listen, Vox-"
"Vox, don't get mad-"
You both speak at the same time, verbally tripping over each other. You've never actually discussed what you'd do or say if you got found out. You both just always naively assumed it wouldn't happen.
You sit down on the edge of the couch, and look at your boss earnestly.
You had earned his respect with all the years you'd been working for him, creating and animating shows for the Vees.
However, you knew it could all disappear.
It would be a lie to say you didn't see it coming, what was true is that you weren't ready for it.
"Vox, I'm not going to sit here and lie to you. It isn't fair. But you can't get mad when I tell you the truth."
"I'll be the judge of that," he mutters sassily.
"Will you come and sit with me, please? The standing is making me nervous. I feel like I'm on trial."
"You might be. I haven't decided yet."
You can't tell if he's joking. He's certainly not smiling.
Vox moves to sit down next you. Val follows, perching himself on the opposite end to give you space. Close enough if you need him, far enough that it won't upset your boss more.
"Start talking," he commands, still confused.
"It's... well I - we - me and Valentino, we're -"
"Together," Val finishes for you. Vox glares at him, and he decides he'll keep his mouth shut for a while.
"Yeah, we're together," you continue. "We have been for over a year. It isn't just sex, or anything. I'm like- in love with him."
It's weird to finally bear this truth after keeping it a secret for so long. It feels wrong, but also refreshing - like a bitter lemon on a hot day.
Vox is scarily silent.
"You're... kidding, right?" he asks, finally breaking through the quiet.
Your silence is enough answer for you as he looks at you incredulously.
"You're so fuckin' naive." He turns over to Valentino. "How can you sit here and act like this doesn't change anything?"
Val tries to speak, but he continues.
"You lied to me, first off. Both of you. For God knows how long-"
"Vox-"
"Let me fucking finish."
You shrink back into the couch, hoping it would swallow you.
"You both lied to me. You broke my trust... and uh, that fucking hurts, actually. And then there's the business side of things. They work for me, they work for the Vees. And, I don't know if you remember, but you are a Vee. That's a conflict of interest."
Val scoffs at him, but then realises he's deadly serious.
"... A conflict of interest?"
"It's against company policy. How am I going to trust you? How is anyone? Information might get leaked. What if I tell you something, and then you tell them?" He points over to you. "And then they tell whoever friends they have, and they post about it on social media, and all of a sudden nothing is private anymore. I. Can't. Trust. You."
Tears are welling up in your eyes quicker than you can control. You're trying to take deep breaths, begging yourself not to cry in front of Vox.
"You do get this is my life right? I get to choose whoever I date," Val whispers.
"Yeah? Well, it's my life. And they're MY worker. And I get to choose whatever I'll do to them."
A choked sob escapes you, and the floodgates open. Fresh, hot tears sprint down your cheeks, landing in your lap.
Vox doesn't care about your suffering, he just wants to punish Valentino through you.
Val can't stand to sit and watch any longer.
"Okay, Vox, that's enough. This isn't fair."
"What's not fair is that two of people I trust the most both lying to my face for a year. That's what isn't fucking fair."
With that, Vox stands up and strides towards the front door, slamming it behind him as he leaves. The minute he's gone, Valentino is wrapping his arms around you, pulling you into his chest.
"It's okay, darling," he murmurs, stroking your hair. "He'll come around. We'll be okay. If we stick together, we'll be okay."
His reassurances are only making you cry harder, sobs escaping you uncontrollably. You eventually exhaust yourself, falling into a restless sleep in Val's arms on the couch.
︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵
You wake up in bed. You've temporarily forgotten the events of the morning, before it all comes crashing back down around you suddenly. Distantly, you can hear Valentino in the kitchen, talking on the phone. You look around the room, and know what you have to do.
You leave the bedroom with a bag in hand, throwing it onto the ground as you grab your shoes. Val clocks you, and hangs up the phone.
"Can I call you back? Thanks. I'll see you tomorrow."
He runs over to where you're slipping your heels on, precariously balanced against the side of the couch.
"Honey, where are you going?" he questions, panic washing over him at your frantic state. "Wait, have you packed a bag?"
He's trying to catch your eyes, but you keep looking away, desperate to avoid his unrelenting gaze.
"I'm going home."
A pause.
"... This is your home."
You knew he'd say that. It hurts just the same.
"No, Valentino, this is your home. My apartment is across town."
"You haven't been there in months. All your stuff is here. Baby, talk to me. What's going on? Did Vox get in your head?"
"He has a point!" you shout, trying to pick up your bag. Val gets there first and grabs it, flinging it behind him, out of your reach.
"About what? He's just in shock, baby! He's confused and he feels betrayed. You don't owe him fuckin' anything. Not after everything that he has put you through."
"But I love my job, Val. I can't lose everything I've worked so hard to achieve!"
"You love that piece of shit job? Yesterday you literally had to get up at 6 am just to get here and get yelled at for an hour and a half. Look- I love Vox but he's not a good boss. Hell! I don't even care about that, I just can't stand to see him abuse you and treat you like you're close to nothing. You're better off without him and you know it. You're just too attatched to what you have."
Subconsciously, you know he's right. You're trying to convince yourself he isn't.
"You don't get it though."
"Except I do. Do you think I don't know about Vox's methods? I understand that it's what he needs to do to get the job done, but... I just can't stand him treating you like that."
"You heard what he said! He won't trust you anymore. No one will. Besides, I know it's shitty, but my job is important to me. I can't be forgotten. Known only as an old failed artist."
"Trust me, honey, you're the least likely to be named a failure."
"That's not the point! You're not listening to me. I come from the bottom, I've had to fight for respect every fucking day of my life. I'm finally where I deserve to be. I can't throw it all away for... for love!"
Valentino flinches like you've punched him in the gut. He takes a step back and leans against the kitchen island, trying to keep his balance.
"What happened to 'you and me against the world', huh?" he murmurs.
"I think I got too wrapped up in this - in us. I was stupid to think it could work. We both were."
"I wasn't," he replies defiantly. "I knew exactly what I was getting into. I knew it would be really fucking difficult and I loved you anyway."
"I'm not sorry for loving you," you whisper. "I'm sorry for a lot of things, but never for loving you."
"If you meant that, you wouldn't be giving up."
You turn your head around, unable to look at him any longer.
"This isn't giving up. This is... quitting while we're ahead. If we keep going, we'll just end up having a huge, horrible, public breakup," you stop, and take a deep breath. "I think we were always doomed to fail."
Valentino thinks about the diamond ring that sits in a box in the top drawer of his nightstand. Doomed to fail.
You finally look up at him, and all the air leaves your lungs. You've never seen him look so defeated, so vulnerable. You're the cause of this. And you hate yourself for it.
You pad across the kitchen and pick up your bag from where he threw it, before stopping in front of him.
"I don't regret you, Valentino. I never will."
With that, you stride out of the front door, closing it gently behind you. Val is left, cold and empty, in a room that no longer feels like home.
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bringing him home
complete fluff, sad lando, and not proofread so apologies x
Not to be dramatic but Lando was done. He’d had a crappy weekend of bad luck, damage, bad strategy and also (he would admit) a bad performance. It was the second last race before summer break, which couldn’t possibly come soon enough.
He felt guilty. Felt guilty he couldn’t of performed more for the team; guilty he let his frustatration show on radio; guilty he’d been in a crap mood and not let the team even try to pick; guilty that he couldn’t let himself sleep on the plane.
It was a form of self torture. But he couldn’t stop.
He had been short with everyone, but especially Jon- who he knew was only ever trying to look out for him. All he really wanted to do was to get home and crash in bed for some more self loathing.
Mumbling a few quick goodbyes to the part of the team on the same flight as him, Lando swiftly turned his back on his friends to make his usual route.
Landing at Heathrow meant he had his usual, lone wolf routine to get back home. A guy he had known for years - Waleed- would pick him up.
Back when Lando lived in Woking, Waleed had been hired by mclaren to drive him to all the events his calendar was packed with. They had a mutual respect for each other but Waleed was a man of few words. Which right now Lando felt like he needed, a familiar face asking how he was might be enough to send the young man over the edge.
Car park 2, floor 4, bay number 168.
That’s where he was off to.
Waleed always came to pick him up from Heathrow. When it was good, Lando would invite a few team members of the preorganised coach to join him. And when it was like it was today, Lando would have only his own company to deal with.
It wasn’t even home anymore, the young driver lived in Monaco and purely came back for mclaren and for social reasons. And right now he fancied neither.
But duty called.
Cautiously, not to bring about any attention, Lando peeled off from the large group of mclaren workers who were on their way to the coach stop. With his hood up, shoulders hunched and staring at the ground as much as possible he thankfully didn’t garner any attention. He knew this route like clockwork- down the elevators and across the walkway to the multi-storey; get the lift up four floors and walk left to the back corner.
Everything felt heavy as he dragged his notoriously over packed suitcase across the smooth tarmac. He just wanted bed.
But as he rounded the corner his mood only got stormier. Waleeds car was definetely not around. Instead parked in his space was a beat up black small car. Grumbling to no one in particular, Lando got out his phone to question Waleed - who was normally very prompt and reliable.
Before he could though, the slam of a car door shutting directed his attention back to the space he was wishing Waleed was in.
“Car park 2, go to level four , park in bay 168. You don’t make this easy do you?”
Yes it was sarcastic, but I’m the softest,caring and most gentle way. And Lando felt everything in his body and mind sag, with a familiar sigh.
“I got the afternoon off work, so I guess I turned up.” Lando still stood still, a confused look demonstrating to Y/n she needed to explain. “Max texted me and I think Jon told him you weren’t feeling great. Unfortunately, Max said you were now my problem so…”
Of course, Jon had told on him. And of course, especially after their little ‘manly’ heart to heart a week or so ago, Max had decieded Y/n was actually the greatest comfort to him.
“is…is it ok that I’m here? I didn’t want to presume but Max-“ she was inturrupted as Lando started taking great strides and threw his arms round her shoulders.
He didn’t verbally reply, instead nodding into her neck and then pulling her impossibly closer, which she assumed to be a sign he were getting a bit emotional. So she just stayed, hugging him tightly back in return.
Her insecurity was not without reason. Lando and y/n had known each other for years, but only got close and started dating 3 months ago. It had been an immediate perfect fit and felt like the most natural thing in the world.
But this was the first time she was being exposed to his incredibly vulnerable side, and Y/n did not take this lightly. Especially given the fact he hadn’t really had a choice.
After what was probably not more than 30 seconds, Lando muttered a ‘thankyou’ and pulled away so they were face to face. Only then did y/n really see just how exhausted he looked. The normally glowing, tanned skin was abnormally pale and almost clammy. Unsurprisingly his eyes were sunken in- but worse was sort of dullness of his usually brilliant green eyes. He was more than just tired, he was mentally checked out too.
“Get inside, left the heater on” she smiled warmly before pressing a quick peck to his lips. Following the instructions almost too well, Lando completely failed to remember his suitcase, which still stood aimlessly in the middle of the car park - from where he had first seen his girlfriend. With a sad sigh Y/n walked back to grab it - placing it in the boot before rounding the car to the drivers side.
“So, we can go wherever you like. Max said Bristol, said your mums keen to see you.” Lando looked motionless at that, so Y/n attempted another option. “ Or you’re welcome at mine, or we could just got the hotel mclaren booked for you?” Impossibly, Y/n saw his face fall further at the last option, which she quickly crossed off her mental list.
“‘m just really glad you’re here… wanna be with you.” He kind of looked embarrassed, fiddling with his fingers as he muttered those words - not appreciating the way Y/n started glowing with warmth to it.
“I’m by your side no matter what… you deciede where you want us to be for these few days.”
Admittedly Y/n hadn’t planned such a sad way for her to meet Landos family, but they were serious enough that it was only a matter of time, so why not in hsi hour of need? She also firmly believed being around more people who knew him and could comfort him through it all. And, by the way he talked about them, Y/n wasn’t particularly scared to meet them - they all sounded lovely. She just wanted them to like her.
“You’ll come to my parents?”
“If thats where you want to be then yes, of course I will. “ Lando nodded and tears started to water, just from how overwhelming the weekend had been compared to how impossibly calm he felt now just because Y/n was with him.
She’d been prepared for this eventuality after Max described just how bad a state Lando appeared to be in, a little overnight bag and Max’s ‘shortcut’ way to get to the Norris family house avoiding the rush hour traffic. When Y/n held Landos eye contact long enough for him to know she was sincere, Lando leaned over the centre console to hug her tightly once again.
“I’m really really glad its you here.” He wasn’t evn sure if she coulf hear it- but of course Y/n heard.
“I’m telling Waleed you said that”
Even when he felt thihs exhausted, self-defeated and shitty, Y/n could make him laugh. He pulled back and just watched as Y/n turned the key in car, then started fiddling with her phone.
“Right my playlist cos i’m driving and I want no complaints ok?” She shot him a fake serious scowl, before reversing out of the space.
Lando just watched, watched the way she darted her eyes to the rear view mirror every two seconds as thought she was taking her driving test again. And the way she bit the right side of her lip as she wound her way through the tighter exit ramps of the car park. And the way her fourth finger tapped to the beat of the Bruno Major song playing - such a small movement even Y/n probably hadn’t noticed she was doing it. Even to her crappy music.
He was only caught out in his staring later, when her little 11 year old vw polo merged onto the motorway towards his childhood home. Predictably she blushed, rolling her eyes at him, whilst remaining lazar-like focus on the road in front.
“Stop staring creep.” He didn’t to that statement, choosing to start his own conversation.
“I really love you, you know that?”
“Of course I do, and I love you more.” Uncharacteristically for her normal driving to the rule book, Y/n took one hand off the wheel and rested it on the centre console - holding out for her boyfriends back. “Now, try get some rest hey? I promisse to try and not crash the car while you sleep.”
“I’ve never felt less relaxed.”
But, of course, he was joking and after an 18 hour journey of the equivalent of tossing and turning in an airplane seat, it took all of 5 mins in the safe and warm atmosphere of his girlfriends car to nod off.
Because for the first time in a couple of weeks Lando was truly comfortable squeezed into the miniature car to the tune of an artist he normally hated.
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Your angst writings always hit so good! would you be able to do a part 2 of “I wish I never met you” ?!? love you so much! xoxo
It had been a sickening, grueling three weeks- going on four.
No phone calls, texts. You'd shown up to the apartment in the middle of the day, when you knew he was at work, moved all your stuff out. Left your key on the kitchen island. Just vanished. Like you'd never existed to him in the first place.
Like he'd never met you.
Carmen's words rang in his head in the most thundering tone, flooding his mind all the time. Prepping in the kitchen, during a rush, listening to Richie's stories, and the worst was at night. When he sat alone in the emptied apartment, where it was the loudest.
Carmen could hear his tone again, angry and biting. So cruel, cruel to the one person that wanted to do something nice for him, who cared about him during that time. Carmen pinched his eyes shut, and he could hear Mikey's voice over his own, scoffing at him, "The fuck's wrong with you, Bear?" Carmen didn't know. He really didn't.
"She text you back?" Richie asked, rounding the corner to see the piles of blue messages on Carmen's screen. He grimaced, biting his tongue, seeing Carmen's blood shot eyes, heavy with dark rings around them. The kid looked rough, that was for sure.
"Don't." Is all Carmen offered back. A short, defeated comment that had Richie flinching. There wasn't even exasperation, annoyance that someone dared to check in on him. No, this was hurt. Carmen was hurting, that was for sure.
So, Richie did what any good cousin would do, what Mikey would want him to do.
He called you. Asked to meet up, "just because you and Carm are... whatever, doesn't mean you can't talk to me, right?" He felt it was a good sign you didn't say you were broken up, an even better one when you agreed to meet.
"I don't really know if I should go-" You hesitated, looking at the black sign of The Bear- the one Carmen had been so excited about a few weeks ago.
"Nah, c'mon, I just gotta run in for a second. Can't leave you out here." Richie nodded, twisting the key into the door.
You knew you shouldn't. You wanted to see Carmen, you did, but what would you even say to him? What could you say to him?
Still, you let yourself follow Richie, lingering in the locker back rooms next to the office, back turned, hoping to avoid him.
"Thank fuck, Cousin, I needed those orders yesterd-" Carmen stopped, chef clogs squeaking against the floor, halting when he saw you.
You felt your mouth run dry, unsure of what to say, what to think. Richie could feel the tension, thick and cutting in the air. Neither one of you moved, just faced the other, waiting for them to say something-anything.
Richie cleared his throat, catching both your attentions. "'m just gonna," He stepped towards the office, opening the door and jerking his head towards it. "Let you guys talk."
Carmen hesitated, blue eyes flashing to yours, a sliver of hope swimming in the sorrow. He held his hands out, a gesture for you to go first, and when you did, he stopped himself before letting his hand trail on your back. It was what he always did when you walked in front of you, a hand on the small of your back, just so gentle and a gesture that told you he had you.
You looked around the office, your eye catching the still framed picture of the two of you. The Bear's one year anniversary, your arms around Carmen, holding his cheek close to you, lips smushed against his other cheek.
"I, uh, I-I don't even know what to fuckin' say." Carmen started, hands shaking, so he clasped them behind his back.
"I think you said it all before." You bit, a malice to your tone that was cold and mean, left Carmen cringing.
"I didn't... I didn't mean that." Carmen muttered.
"Carmen, you did."
"No, no. I-I didn't fucking mean that. Please-"
"-You don't say shit like that if you don't mean it." You glared at him pointedly.
"I didn't mean I wish I had never met you." Carmen was frustrated, heart hammering, hand running through his hair. "I-I meant that... That I wish... That I know, that you'd be better off if you'd never met me." He admitted, voice cracking and shaking with the admission.
You could feel your heart breaking, sinking low in your chest at the wobble of his bottom lip that he tried to hide, two hands pressing to his face to cover it. "I'm just... I'm so fucked up. I'm so beyond fucked, and-and you're so good to me, and I-I shouldn't... I don't want to fuck you up, ok? I don't want to ruin you and-and just do that to you, because you don't deserve it. You don't deserve any of this, baby, and I'm so fuckin' sorry."
You're reaching for him before either of you really know what's happening. It's instinct, the sob falling from his lips enough to tell you he's genuine. It's what you knew, that Carmen was emotional and hurting, but he'd never admit it. It still hurt you, how harsh his words were. Carmen's tears soaked the front of your shirt, your own falling onto his shoulder where you held him.
It was going to be a lot, a lot of rebuilding and repairing. You'd need time, so would he. He'd agree to go back to meetings again, and you'd agree to try and forgive him. You'd be better soon, with time.
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Midnight Muse (Part 22)
Azriel x Reader [Art School AU]
Summary: You and your best friend Feyre have just moved into a new apartment for your sophomore year of college at art school. What you didn't know when you signed the lease is that you'd be living next to three rowdy boys.
Warnings: Smut!
Word Count: 4,106
[Part 1] [Part 2] [Part 3] [Part 4] [Part 5] [Part 6] [Part 7] [Part 8] [Part 9] [Part 10] [Part 11] [Part 12] [Part 13] [Part 14] [Part 15] [Part 16] [Part 17] [Part 18] [Part 19] [Part 20] [Part 21] [Masterlist]
_________________________________________
For the third time tonight you catch yourself bobbing your head and mouthing along to the words of the song blaring through the walls instead of reading the words in the art history book that you’re staring at.
Cursing, you toss your pencil into the crease of the textbook and lie your head in your hands. You’ve read the same page three times over but you haven’t absorbed one ounce of information. It’s something about the art in ancient Rome and the different ways God figures are portrayed.
Your phone buzzes from the spot next to you and you can’t help but grin. You’d declined an invite to another one of Cassian’s infamous parties because you have a test on Monday and you can’t afford to fail. You barely passed the first one by the skin of your teeth and you’ll be damned if you don’t pass this class with less than a B. Azriel had even pestered you about it for a bit, but ultimately left you to focus on your schoolwork, or, as much as half of your attention on the page you could manage.
A: I can’t believe you’re studying right now. I can’t even focus on my drawing. How are you doing it?
Y: You’ve trained me in the art of studying with loud backgrounds, don’t you remember? You quickly follow that text up with another. Y: I should’ve joined in on the fun instead. I’m going to fail art history, anyway. I could really use a shot right now.
Azriel’s response pings your phone faster than Cassian saying something sexual. A: How about something else that might cheer you up? ;)
A puff of laughter chokes out. Checking the time in the corner of your screen your smile falls and you want to groan. You’ve only been attempting to study for forty five minutes.
Y: As mood improving that might be, I really need to study. This sucks.
To garner some extra sympathy, you tack on a frowning emoji at the end.
A: It’s not that hard, princess.
It’s a bold move to reply: Y: Your cock? Or art history? But you hit send anyway.
A: Both, but the pair can be remedied.
Y: Come over.
There’s a sudden slamming of a bedroom door through the wall that startles you, then forces you into a fit of giggles, realizing how eager Azriel had been to escape his apartment and see you.
The thought sends butterflies off in your stomach and your heart kicks giddily in response. You’re just as excited as he is, shoving your chair back from your desk and bounding towards the door.
Soft light from the lamp in the corner of the living room washes the apartment in a warmth that feels like you’re being cuddled. The rest of the apartment is dark, empty. Feyre had popped her head into your room earlier, asking if you wanted to go to the party next door but at that point in the night you were still determined in your studying, waving her on without you.
There’s a soft knock on the door and when you tug it open Azriel is barging inside, all but tackling you on his way inside. His hands find your hips like a magnet and you’re swept up in the heat of his body as it collides with yours as he sweeps you further into the apartment, kicking the door shut behind him.
“Hurry,” he whispers, and his long strides are no match for your shorter legs. You feel like you’re tripping, tangled up in him, but he holds you steady, firm, like a rock you’ve been missing from your life.
It’s quite nice.
Azriel reaches behind himself to lock your door before he’s turning back to you and planting a kiss to your forehead. “Before Tarquin sees me.”
You laugh, wrapping your arms around him. He’s snug in his usual garb, a black t-shirt that clings to his body like a second skin. His jeans sit low on his hips, the waistband of his briefs calling your name. The fact that you know what’s beneath these clothes is as intoxicating as his blissful scent: night-chilled mist and cedar.
“Who’s Tarquin?”
“Old friend,” Azriel huffs. “He was just arriving at the party. If he saw me he would’ve wanted me to tap the keg with him and I’d much rather be here, tapping you, princess.”
You shove playfully at his chest but Azriel catches your wrists and pulls you back into him for a popper kiss. You fall into it, body relaxing and even pressing yourself further into him. His hands slide around your waist and over the curve of your ass where he grabs a handful, sighing contently against your lips.
He’s been the perfect gentleman since the chat you shared at Rita’s, and has even offered to walk you to and from your classes, though you suspect that has more to do with Lucien than not wanting you walking alone, even though you share most of your classes with Feyre.
“Hi,” you whisper when he pulls away only to rest his forehead against yours. His golden eyes bore into yours and you can see the happiness swimming there.
You can also feel it against your stomach.
“Hey,” he answers just as softly. “I missed you.”
“It’s only been a few hours,” you remind him, but your chest flutters a little because you missed him too. You’d allowed Azriel to walk you home after your last class of the day but had drawn the line at the door that he pressed you up against, using that wicked mouth of his to try and convince you to let him inside. After a thorough minute of persuasion, he’d backed off, leaving you with a cheeky wink and both your mind and your cunt screaming at you to call him back.
“Yeah but dealing with Cassian feels like a lifetime has gone by sometimes,” he jokes, following you eagerly as you lead him through your apartment towards your room. It hits you then that he hasn’t properly been inside of your apartment before, only having seen it when he walked in on accident, but there will be time for a tour later, right now you want him in your room. Preferably on your bed.
“What was he doing this time?” you squeal when he pinches your ass and you glare at him over your shoulder.
“Sorry, princess, I couldn’t resist,” Azriel grins and you can’t help but smile with him. When the corners of his mouth pull high there’s a crinkle around his glowing golden eyes that makes your heart skip a beat. He looks younger, sweeter with that smile on his face. Azriel is a handsome man. “He was trying to get me to join in on the party. Think he was trying to rally some girls to play flip cup or something.”
Azriel frowns when he steps into your room, not because he notices that the head of your bed nearly perfectly aligns with where his is pushed up against the wall you share, but because of the loud music humming through said wall. He knows it must be even louder when he’s the one blasting tunes at all hours of the night, but he hadn’t realized just how thin the walls were.
“Sounds a lot more entertaining than art history,” you grumble a little, slumping back into your chair at your desk. Your body warms as Azriel comes to stand behind you, planting a hand on the surface and resting his chin on your head as he leans over to look at your textbook.
“Ancient Rome,��� he comments, and you can feel the delicious rumble of his full-toned voice. It makes you shiver in your seat, and you wonder if he notices you tensing, trying to stifle your reaction to his single word. “It’s not that hard, princess.”
“Of course you would be good at it,” you groan, slumping back in your seat. It causes Azriel to slip away, planting himself firmly on the edge of your desk. “You’re good at everything.” His golden eyes twinkle as he preens. You narrow your eyes at his smirk. “Oh, shut up.”
“Didn’t even say anything, princess,” he muses. “If I help you out with art history, will you be good for me, too?”
You can’t help the rush of arousal spilling into your veins like adrenaline. The way he’s staring down at you through lowered lids, smirk turned into a face more serious, it’s a taunt as much as it is an offer.
“You wish,” you murmur back. There’s no heat to your response because it’s all collected between your thighs that you’re pressing firmly together.
“I do,” Azriel responds, gaze fiery.
And, well, those catacombs will still be there tomorrow.
You allow Azriel to pull you up from your chair and into his chest. His hands find your hips while you wrap yours around his neck, amiring one another. It’s a soft moment backed by the buzzing bass of Cassian’s party but you couldn’t be happier right now, with Azriel holding you in his arms.
You trail your fingers down his chest and he watches you, bright eyes never leaving yours as you swiftly slide them under the hem of his shirt. You can feel his cock hardening in his pants as you slide across his abdomen, reveling in the smooth skin of his chest, fingers dancing over the ridges of muscle.
His grip tightens on your hips but you urge him with a soft tug to take the shirt off. Reluctantly, Azriel removes his hands from you only long enough to rip the shirt over his shoulders and then they’re back, pulling you closer than before.
You trace the line of his jaw and he allows you to drink in your fill of him because you’re looking at him like you’ve just found your inspiration for your next project, and he likes that raw look in your eyes, likes being the one you’re solely focused on.
Moving downwards, you follow the line of his collarbones, fingering at the whorling ink there, like shadows of the night. They expand up across his broad shoulders and Azriel shivers when you lean in and flick your tongue against them, as if you can somehow taste their night-chilled forms.
Azriel’s breath hitches in his throat as you take your time inspecting each and every single one of his tattoos. The way you’re looking at him, the way you’re touching him makes him harder than a rock, and his cock strains painfully against the zipper of his jeans. He won’t move until you’re done, though, he won’t dare to break your concentration.
Wrapped up in the black of his shadows are two cupids, bows fully loaded and ready to launch their arrows. On his arm, the tattoo of the female warrior you’d noticed at lunch when you were secretly admiring it, trying to figure out who it was.
“Who is this?” you ask softly, and his answer is just as quiet, not wanting to shatter the trance you both seem to be stuck in.
“Nemesis. The goddess of vengeance,” Azriel explains, and your eyes are soft with grief when they flick upwards to meet his. He’s smiling softly at you though, and tenderly tucks a piece of your hair behind your ear. He nods his head towards his other arm, showing you the other scrawled across that bicep. “This is Eleos, goddess of forgiveness.”
You can’t help the urge to surge forward and kiss him. His tattoos serve as reminders of a life he once lived, one filled with rage and hurt, the yearning to harm his step-brothers a forceful one. As time went on and his hands healed, he’d gotten that tattoo of Eleos, not because he was forgiving any of his family for how he’d been treated, but a year later when he was learning how to forgive himself for the time spent hating what had been done to his hands.
And with those hands, Azriel lifts you into his arms. He’s kissing you just as passionately as you’re kissing him because without even an explanation, you seem to understand the artwork poked into his skin.
He places you on the bed and follows you up onto it but you’re not done with your exploration yet. With little coaxing, you find yourself straddling Azriel, pulling away from a dizzying kiss and resuming your pandering of his body.
An image of a winged man falling from the sky on the side of his ribcage, and two wings defining the hard muscle leading to the tent in his pants that makes your mouth water. These wings are feathered, unlike the membranous bat-like ones painted large across his back. Each and everyone is more captivating than the last, and as your fingers hover around the waistband of his pants, you lean forward and lick a long stripe over those wings.
“Fuck,” Azriel curses, hips jolting at the movement. His hands smooth your hair from your face where it’s falling with the angle and all of a sudden you want to feel those hands fisting around your hair, guiding your head while your mouth is full of his cock. “Princess,” Azriel warns, but the sound is choked, “I thought you were studying.”
“I am,” you answer, unbuttoning his pants. Azriel’s not doing a lot to help you focus on that work though, and you won’t be able to focus until you’ve tasted him, felt him like the piece of artwork he is. “I’m cashing in on my reward early.”
He hums, helping you rid him of his pants and briefs. His cock sticks out and it’s one of the best looking cocks you’ve seen in your life. It’s pink and leaking at the tip, ready for you to wrap your lips around.
“You don’t have to—” Azriel’s words dispel into a rough moan when you take him into your hand and lick his slit. The taste of him explodes on your tongue, just as heady and delightful as the rest of him is. You know that you don’t have to, but with a tug of your hand up his shaft while you suck the head of his cock into your mouth his fingers tighten in your hair and you want this, you really really want this.
Swirling your tongue teasingly around the head of his cock, you jerk and twist the length of him. On reflex, Azriel tries to shove you further down on his cock and you allow it, moaning around his length when he hits the back of your throat.
You take him as far as you can, reveling in the noises he makes in response to your movements. When you suction your cheeks in, lathing your tongue wet and wild across his silky cock, when you use your grip on his base to jerk him off when you need to come up from air. You keep the crown of his cock in your mouth because he seems to love the warmth of your breath as you pant around him.
“Princess,” he hisses when you twist your hand, “Fuck, baby, need you to stop or I’m gonna cum.”
Gods, do you want that. Before you can eagerly continue your ministrations, Azriel is easing you away from his cock, his hands tearing at your clothing. You’re distracted by the way his hands slide under the fabric of your shirt, and you’re trying to relieve yourself of your clothing so you can feel more of those hands on your bare skin.
“Come here, gorgeous,” Azriel pants, pressing your naked body flush against his. You slant your mouth over his as you grind against him, your clit throbbing with need.
“Condom,” you breathe between kisses. His hands smooth from your hips up your back and down again, guiding your hips to drag your cunt against his shaft.
“Pocket,” Azriel answers, unable to tear his mouth from yours. You strain over the side of the bed but are able to retrieve the condom with ease. You don’t even take the time to scoff at him for stuffing there out of convenience before he came over, because he clearly knew where the night was going to end up.
You tear off the corner of the foil and roll it down his hot cock. Azriel’s golden eyes are hot on your body as he pulls you closer to him for another kiss. He’s addicted to your taste on his lips, the feeling of your body pressed against his.
And you’re addicted to him just as much. The way he caresses every inch of your skin like you’re the finest piece of art he’s finally able to touch. The words that roll so effortlessly off of that wicked tongue of his, good for more than taunting you.
“When is ‘yet?’” you ask, kissing across his chest.
Azriel blinks, looking down at you with the cutest furrow of his dark brows. “What?”
You huff laugh at his confusion but are unable to keep your wet pussy from sliding across his heavy cock. The movement causes the both of you to moan and you melt a little against the warmth of his chest.
“You told Rita that I’m not your girlfriend yet,” you explain, finding the strength to continue your path down his body. You lap over one of his nipples and enjoy the way Azriel’s muscles flex. “So, when is ‘yet?’”
Azriel’s fingers find your chin, stopping you from biting between his pectorals like you want. He looks just as devastated by that thought as you are. “Impatient little thing, aren’t you? We haven’t even had our first date yet,” he teases and you fail to bite back your grin.
Your first date is tomorrow, and you have no idea what he has planned. You’re pretty sure that there’s no way that he’s going to be able to beat your first kiss at the museum, but if there’s one thing you’ve learned about Azriel, it’s that he’s full of surprises.
“We shared a milkshake,” you pout, squirming as he pokes at your sides. You enjoy the way that his chest shakes with laughter.
“And that counts as a date?” he questions, quirking a brow. You settle against him, even though your cunt is screaming at you to shift a little lower and sit on his cock. Azriel strokes soothing lines up your body, enjoying the feel of your smooth skin beneath his marred fingertips.
You shrug, “If you want it to.”
He puffs out a laugh. “You’re low maintenance.”
“For now,” you grin, poking his nose. “But that wasn’t an answer, Azriel.”
He can’t help himself, craning forward to kiss you. You draw him in like a magnet, and he’s never felt this raw need to be around someone before. When he first met you, he’d thought it a coincidence, how you kept running into each other, how he wasn’t able to take his eyes off of you.
Now, he knows it’s much more than that.
“And is this answer imperative to how the rest of the night goes?” He asks, rubbing his cock in a long stroke across your wet cunt.
You gasp, bucking back against him, but you want your answer, first.
“I mean, I can go next door and—”
“Don’t you fucking dare finish that sentence, princess,” Azriel growls, grabbing your hips to roll you over. You squeak at the swift movement and suddenly you’re pressed into the mattress with Azriel’s looming form towering over you. His gold eyes are sharp with possessiveness. It makes you tingle. “You’re all fucking mine.”
He follows his words by nestling the head of his cock between your folds. You squirm, trying to get him to press further into you but Azriel holds steady, even through your teasing.
“If I’ll have you, you mean,” your chest heaves with anticipation, your fingernails already digging into his skin. You want him inside of you right fucking now, and you’re regetting taunting him already. “Which means you’d have to ask me, though. See if I even want you back.”
“Oh, but I know you do, princess,” Azriel’s voice takes on the low edge that makes you want to scream. His cock inches further into your needy cunt and he nips the shell of your ear. “I know you want this all to yourself.”
Your keen betrays your words. “S’not that special,” you slur blissfully. You already feel so full with the head of his cock teasing that bundle of nerves that had your stomach coiling already.
The feeling of your nails ripping at his skin tells Azriel differently.
He hums like he believes you, knuckles brushing torturously down the center of your body to play with your throbbing clit. His chest constricts with the way that your cunt strangles his cock and he takes a deep breath so he doesn’t come only from this; your stubbornness and the way that you’re wriggling on his cock.
“How about I show you how special my cock is, and then I ask you to be my girlfriend?” He proposes.
“How about you ask me to be your girlfriend and then you show me how not special your cock is,” you counter, but you’ll do just about anything to have him pressing in all of the way.
“Fine,” Azriel relents. “But if I make you orgasm more than three times, you can’t call my cock ‘not special’ ever again. You have to refer to it as the most special cock you’ve ever had the pleasure of cumming on. Oh, and that it’s pretty too.” And fuck, it really is pretty like this, tucked into your tight heat.
“Kind of a mouthful, don’t you think?” you ask, whining as he pulls completely out of you to rub himself down the length of your cunt. That glowing look in his eyes makes you glare, but it’s shortlisted when he nudges himself back inside of you again.
“More than a mouthful, princess, as you well know,” Azriel smirks, and you pinch his side. It does little to deter him, though. “You want it? You’re going to have to agree to my terms.”
“Did you want a blood oath or…” he threatens to remove his cock again and you scramble, clawing at his hips to keep him inside of you. “Fine! Fine.”
Azriel leans down and the way that his cock plunges a centimeter further into your aching cunt has you gasping, moaning against his mouth. You want to bite that smirk right off of his lips but he tastes too good, and his tongue is swirling against yours, making you forget. “Was going to ask you to be my girlfriend anyway, princess, even if you hadn’t agreed.”
You shift your hips and it works to guide him a little further inside but it’s not enough. You feel hot, like you’re going to explode if he doesn’t start moving soon. You need to feel his entire length stretching you out, shoving the air from your lungs and taking you like he’s no longer in control of his body.
“Well, bully for you, Azriel.” You dig your nails into the meat of his back. “I’ll take some of the most special cock I’ve ever had the pleasure of cumming on,” you grit. “Though that is yet to be determined.”
Your taunt does nothing to irk him into moving, though. Instead, he’s smirking down at you again. “You forgot pretty, princess. It’s pretty too, isn’t it?”
“Come on then, pretty,” you groan, on the verge of screaming.
“I don’t think so, I haven’t held up my part of the bargain yet.” The words are followed by him pressing himself the rest of the way inside of you, enjoying the way the tension leaves your body and has you melting for him. You want him to start moving, need him to start moving, but Azriel’s gone all serious all of a sudden, peppering you with kisses until you can focus on him once more. “Will you be my girlfriend, (Y/N)?”
“Yes,” you cry out, feeling so full your heart could burst. You drag Azriel in for a kiss that’s hot and desperate and a little sloppy. “Yes, I’ll be your girlfriend, Az. Now, please move, baby, I need your cock.”
His gaze goes molten at the pet name the way you’re begging for him. He pulls his hips back and presses them forward again, finally giving you the friction you’ve both been desperately craving.
“Of course, princess. Let’s give you what you need.”
⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅
MM Taglist Part 1: @justvibbinghere @nickishadow139 @going-through-shit @honeycriess @natashachelsea @thisisew @kennedy-brooke @cat-or-kitten @sourapplex @magical-mischief-makers @reiincarnatiion @ccucumebrs @secret-ly-here @throneofsmut @cami26cami @torchbearerkyle @a-frog-with-a-laptop @sevikas-whore @endless-worldss @vellichor01 @bangtans-jagiya @kalulakunundrum @pinksmellslikelove @sakura-frost3-blog @imxnotxhere @bookishbroadwaybish @justdreamstars @i-am-infinite @whichwitchisthebitch @i-am-a-lost-girl16 @sia-r @ssmay123 @blackthorngirl @haivenhoule @18crazybutcutealsopsycho @bloodicka @wilmalovegood @jw83 @acourtofbatboydreams @hannzoaks @judig92 @aaronwarnerobsessedmylove @ilikefictionalmen @harrystylesfan2686 @dr4g0ngirl @helensophie
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⠀⠀⠀⠀───◌┈┈─── ♡ 𝇄 𝇃 𝐀𝐈𝐒𝐋𝐄 𝟕 ┋ 𝐅𝐓. 𝐄𝐑𝐄𝐍 𝐉𝐀𝐄𝐆𝐄𝐑
⎯⎯ ( 𝙋𝘼𝙄𝙍𝙄𝙉𝙂𝙎 ) : Guitarist!Eren x Single Mom!Reader
⎯⎯ ( 𝙎𝙔𝙉𝙊𝙋𝙎𝙄𝙎 ) : What went from buying baby food for his friend, to stumbling upon a struggling mother, Eren intrigues himself with the woman. What kind of gentleman would he be if he didn't help her out and reep the benefits?
⎯⎯ ( 𝘾.𝙒. ) : Heavily black coded reader, reader is older than Eren so slight age gap, Eren talks in his head a lot, thick coded reader, needy Eren, begging, unprotected sex, lactation (Eren is lowk a perv), nipple play, mutual masterbation (unknowingly), use of nicknames (sweetheart, sweet thing), vocal dirty talker Eren bec that boy can't shut up, reader lives in a 2 story apartment sorta, body worshipping, fully consensual
⎯⎯ ( 𝙒.𝘾. ) : 10,540
⎯⎯ ( 𝙉𝙊𝙏𝙀𝙎 ) : The idea of Eren talking in his head a lot versus verbally came from the amazing @/hellavile who wrote the piece Sketch. The idea resonated with me and literally a light bulb went off in my head like yup, that's so Eren, and I wanted to incorporate that idea into my own writing style bec i had this idea for like 3 years straight but never had the courage or time to write it out until now, and it really made me fall in love with his character in this piece of mine. So enjoy <3
Sex so quick it felt as if it didn't happen. You've been laying in bed for what felt like eternity afterwards because you've grown used to the empty spot beside you after coming back to your senses realizing your boyfriend had up and left while you were asleep, not shocking at all. It was something he had always done to either get weed from a gas station or get IHOP early in the morning, but it felt different, feeling as though it was going to be permanent. It isn't like you haven't had the feeling before, but every part of your intuition was telling you it was. Adding on to your growing headache was your son's wails as the sun's rays hardly peaked through your window, meaning you were forced to get up to tend to him. I'm coming Isaiah, give mommy a minute.
It was still dark in your apartment but you managed to enter your son's room, going over to his crib where he laid in a fit of tears at the ungodly hour of 5 in the morning. You wanted to go back to bed, to forget about where your boyfriend was and taking care of Isaiah, but life had a funny way of not going ways we expect. You pulled your baby out the crib, hoisting him on your hip. Walking to the bathroom was no easy task with a crying little boy throwing a hissy fit at you for not being fed, and he wasn't trying to give you an easy time either. Too much like his father.
”Boy,” you groaned in frustration.”I'mma need you to stop crying so I can clean myself 'n you can be fed. Okay?”
You were talking to him as if he could understand a word you said, but it got him to stop so it didn't linger on your mind much longer than that. You set him down on the counter, undressing him to change his diaper that you did not sign up for when you got pregnant in the first place, the whole process you always found disgusting, but at the end of the day he was your flesh and blood, and somewhat his fathers. Isaiah much resembled you albeit he had your brown skin, but his father's grey, wide eyes and his nose. You couldn't have been happier he got your lips though. As much as you loved him he had absolutely none to save his life.
The process of getting your baby looking right took far too long than you realized, the sun was now fully up at 7:00 in the morning, but you weren't fully up with it. Your bonnet was messily on your head, a few braids spilling out from behind that you had meant to take out today but the world had other plans for you. ”Can you watch your cartoon so I can shower?”
A few babbles left your son's lips, and you took that as an answer not knowing what the hell he said, he was only 10 months old after all, still growing and can't be alone for more than 5 minutes when he's awake.
Your shower was short and getting yourself ready was even shorter. It was gonna be a long day and mentally you just weren't prepared for it.
”Alexa play Clouded by Brent Faiyaz.”
The flat, circular device began playing the song, so you turned off the TV grabbing the rest of your things as well as Isaiah in order to go downstairs while the music softly played in the background. You wanted to forget everything that happened last night, from finding out how much money your boyfriend spent to him selling your things to the mind-numbing sex that lasted longer longer it needed to. It was a lot in one night and you wanted to forget it all over eggs and sausage.
Finally moving downstairs from the loft part of your apartment, you're quick to feel the vibration from your phone and notice a few burnt out cigarettes on the kitchen island. Typical of him. You sat Isaiah in his high chair not too far from you, giving him a little toy to play with to distract him while you read the text message from the sender.
Connie💋 - 7:42 AM
I'm gonna be gone for a bit baby, IDK how long but I wasn't ready to have a kid, I'm sorry and I'll be back when I'm ready.
You knew that was going to be never, so why were you so goddamn frustrated? Not like he was much help anyways, but for him to leave with your money and a baby was heartless, even for him. The fuck is wrong with men. You couldn't help the bubbling rage inside you, but taking it out would only make things worse. Looking into the fridge for something, anything consumable only to find nothing was a big ass slap to the face however.
”Break up with me over text and now eat my damn food? Fucking dipshit,” you heaved the more you stared at your partially empty fridge, then looking back at Isaiah who returned the gaze which big innocent eyes that had not a thought behind them. To the market it is.
With the weather rising, wearing your cotton shorts made of sweatpants material and cropped jacket over nothing but a sports bra was one of the smartest things you've done after fucking with Connie. It was sad to admit your baby looked better than you but it was better than nothing. Getting him into his car seat and pulling off in the direction of your local Giants was silent, but stressful. You had to figure out how you were gonna take care of your baby on your own. Not like you haven't been doing so after Connie showed up to your apartment less and less, but the reality bitch slapped you in the face and you had to deal with it.
You pulled up to the parking lot a little under 15 minutes after leaving your house, getting out to sit in the backseat with Isaiah to give him a quick breastfeed so he would at least not embarrass you in public by crying. It took way too long for your liking to the point where you had to pull him off. ”You can't be eating like that all the time or you gonna be fat like mommy,” you said with the smallest smile looking down at him.
You cleaned yourself up and not too long after that entered the Giants with Isaiah hoisted on your waist again. He played with one of your braids as you chose a cart made for moms like you with small kids, putting him inside the chair that resembled a car seat except with the market's colors. You walked around aimlessly inside, grabbing whatever you needed to make decent meals for yourself and being mindful to grab your son a few things while you were at it. Picking all sorts of frozen meats and fresh vegetables seemed like muscle memory after your mother practically forced you to change your diet for the sake of your baby. It paid off in the end I guess.
You walked down an aisle specific for babies, eyeing all the different toys and miniature furniture made for the smaller humans. You stopped specifically at the section labeled "baby food" looking through each brand and going for whatever looked the most healthiest. You were putting a few of them in your cart one by one until your hand and another's overlapped on the same one accidentally.
”Sorry,” you said rushed to whoever it was, not taking the time to look at them as your hand retracted to grab another bottle.
”You can have it.”
A voice so deep you could've sworn it was an echo and not a real person talking to you. Your face had nearly whipped to whoever it was, eyebrow raising in suspicion at who your hand had brushed against. Standing beside you was a tall looking boy that had brown hair brushing a little past his shoulders, the rest in a very messy bun and stray hairs sprawled across his face. He was young, that much you could tell just from what felt like forever staring at him, but his voice made him sound as if it was aged like fine wine.
”Oh- um.. thank you.”
”Do you always stare?” The question alone caught you off guard, stepping back a little to really get a good look at him. He was wearing a white simple baggy t-shirt messily tucked into black capri pants and black adidas. He had a few bits of jewelry here and there, a thin gold necklace dangling over his chest and a matching gold bracelet to go with it. He not bad looking.
”I don't always stare, jus' in my head.” That was a lie. You were staring at the poor boy longer than any stranger would have, but your ego would never allow you to admit that. Isaiah seemed to have a way of telling when your attention wasn't fully on him because he made a loud noise that partially startled you. You turned towards him to silence him a little by giving him something random in your jacket pocket which happened to be a toy car that somehow got in there.
”I take it he's a handful,” the boy spoke again, looking at Isaiah who is in his seat and smiling at the brown haired male. He returned to looking at you who then looked at him again, smiling awkwardly at that but at the end of the day you couldn't care less. ”He can be but I got it.” No the hell you don't.
The pale boy was staring at you for a little, eyeing you up and down once or twice to get a good at your little get-up. He took in every detail as slowly as possible, carving the image of your shorts riding up exposing your thighs, the cleavage your jacket zipper revealed and the ink you have on your left thigh into his head. To be honest you felt like his gaze was swallowing you whole, so you had to break the eye contact otherwise your body temperature would rise. ”Where's your boyfriend to help you?”
”He's deadbeat and gone.” You scoffed at the mere mention of him, grabbing baby formula and tossing it into the cart suddenly feeling your emotions of anger return from earlier. You noticed how the tall boy's eyes seemed to widen before relaxing to the lazy look he had before, his body now facing you entirely.
His voice was smooth and calm as he spoke. ”Sorry to hear that then.”
”It's no problem honestly, the only good thing the bit- I mean he did leave me is Isaiah here.” You smiled with the words you spoke. Sure you may have hated Connie's guts and wanted nothing more than to beat the shit out of him, but you're happy with your baby nonetheless.
After a semi-long silence of you both skimming over the isle one last time, you decided to speak again with inquiry in your tone. ”I didn't get your nam-”
”Eren.” He beat you to it, his body seeming much closer than before because you could feel his body heat radiating off of him, as well as the faint smell of natural forest lurking the more you breathed in and out your nose. It was intoxicating.
”⌈name⌋.” You replied somewhat shortly after, having the silence engulf you until you got tired of it. ”Do you mind.. helping me with this? Like– moving it into my car or somethin'?”
Eren pondered in his head, his deadpan expression boring into yours as his brain seemed to think of a proper response. He did want to help, you looked so small and fragile like you could break at any moment, and yet he liked it. You needed his help even if you've only known each other for 5 minutes. A hum resonated deep within his chest, vibrating his entire being as he prolonged his answer, the reason being seeing your face impatiently wait for a reply.
You want me to say yes don't you? You're giving it away. ”I'll help. Got nothing better to do.”
Your lips curved upwards into a smile again, your body turning to your cart with Isaiah who was gnawing at his own fingers and eyeing Eren as he began following behind you with his basket in tow full of his own food.
”I really appreciate the help, Eren. I probably woulda struggled on my own.” You spoke and giggled at the same time, but the brown haired boy walking beside you was in his own world of thoughts that were slightly muted in the back of his head.
”It's no problem.”
”Can I ask why you got baby food? You got a girlfriend at home?”
Curious now. We just met.
”Nah,” he replied shortly, turning his head slightly down to look at you as you kept walking forward. ”For a friend of mine. Having his own kid 'n he asked me to buy it for him.”
”So you just helping everybody.”
Eren smiled when you finally looked at him. ”In a way, yes. I don't mind doing it 'cause it's nice watching them from the sidelines.”
”So then why don't you have a girlfriend?”
He thought about it for a minute, his relaxed face seeming so close and so far to yours at the same time, the strong eye contact not being dared to be broken by either of you. It was obvious there was some unspoken tension in the air the more you looked at each other and the more you awaited Eren's answer.
”Never really found time for one.”
Your eyebrows rose and your head tilted to the right a little. ”Is that your real answer or somethin' you made up?”
Do that again. ”You'd have to find out for yourself.”
You finally broke the never ending eye contact that had you in a chokehold, walking forward quicker as to hide your face. Not like any blush would show up regardless but you could definitely feel your face getting hot just from the closeness of your bodies.
With you walking so fast Eren opted to take his time to grab anything else he might need, but the conversation was stuck in his head. He played with the bracelet on his wrist catching up to where you stood now in the snack aisle grabbing all sorts of chips. You felt his eyes on you again but couldn't look at him.
You want to look at me don't you? Why don't you do it?
”Miss ⌈name⌋—”
”Uh-uh boy that make me sound older than what I am.” You both shared a laugh, his somewhat quiet, yours a little louder. Isaiah joined in on the noise making by throwing his toy out the seat. You were about to grab it but Eren got it before you could, handing it to your son who babbled more nonsense.
You need someone to help you with him. I can tell but it's fine. Take all the time you need to ask. ”Then, ⌈name⌋, how old are you?”
You turn to smile at him again, teasing him almost. ”You know it's rude to ask a woman her age right?”
”I'm just curious.”
Eren leaned on the opposite side of the cart where Isaiah was sitting, supporting himself on his elbows and eyeing you as you grabbed more things.
”Late twenties.”
”Not even an exact number but you can ask me about my relationship status?” His grin was nothing short of mischievous and teasing, his nose scrunched and releasing a little at the end of his sentence. ”If it's gonna be like then I'm only in my early 20s.”
You quirked an eyebrow at him. ”How early?”
So now you're interested again. What if I make you guess.
”That's something you'll also have to figure out.”
”Stop playing with me,” you laughed to shield your embarrassment from him.
Your little shopping trip went longer than expected thanks to your new found acquaintance. Even if Eren was like a minx he managed to help you as he promised, putting bag after bag in the trunk of your 2015 BMW. It was like nothing for him to lift and honestly it was a turn on. His hand easily grabbed 5 bags at once.
Isaiah was already sitting in the car while the two of you stood outside in the humid air. ”Thank you for the help 'cause I don't know how I've been doing it on my own.”
Eren's lips raise at that, his face showing contemptment. ”Then should I give you my number to continue my "helping"?”
His voice dropped an entire octave as if it was mocking you. You had to readjust your stance in order to respond properly, confidently at that. ”No, you can wait for it though.”
You giggled when his expressions changed to a shocked one as you unlocked your car and sat inside it, starting it at the same time.
”Then how will I find you if I can't contact you?”
She's going to raise her eyebrow again.
You raised your eyebrow at him, long nails hovering over the steering wheel as you looked at him. ”You live around here right?”
”Well, yes, but—”
”Then we'll run into each other eventually.”
Eventually turned into a week because soon enough you ran out of food from eating like a mad woman. Everything in you didn't want to go out, wanting so badly to stay laying on the couch with Isaiah in his playpen in his own little world while you caught up on your shows. Your ankles were swollen from overdoing it the past few days that walking in itself felt like a chore. Maybe I should call him—
Oh, right. You didn't have his phone number.
So now here you were at the same market as last week, grabbing damn near the same thing until this time in the snack aisle you saw the same silhouette as before. Eren this time was wearing a sage green long sleeve loose shirt, however the sleeves pulled up a little below his elbows and light grey pants accompanied with some green and white vans.
What caught you off guard was the glasses on his face. ”You ain't tell me you wear glasses.”
Eren looked up slowly from his bent down position eyeing whatever large bag of chips he was looking at. The same grin he had from last week was on his face when he saw you. Assuming she needs my number.
”I don't actually, these are fake ones that I wear from time to time. But, you didn't tell me you wear sexy maxi dresses on Thursdays.”
Eren watched as you looked down to eye yourself, attempting to flip your now new hairstyle of your wig that looked somewhat styled. The hair seemed to engulf your head almost, but it made you look endearing. You were fogging his head now, pretty woman.
”I don't usually, but I decided to look nice. You don't like it?”
Eren chuckled. ”When did I suggest that? You look beautiful sweetheart.”
You felt your face heat up again and your stomach turn. Why was heat growing in your stomach over a small nickname. Your laugh felt forced and breathy to him, and his smirk only grew in size the more you seemed to shy away. ”So we’re doin' nicknames now.”
You're shy over a few words. You didn't get treated well by him didn't you? He made you so upset. I'll take care of you. ”We can if that's what you'd like.”
He was seriously messing with you. He knew that. He loved how you tried to take little steps to hide from his eyes, he loved how you played with your hands the more the silence dragged on, he especially loved his view.
”That is a one time thing.” You finally spoke, your tone a little broken but it's the best you could do. You felt hot and trapped in your own body, this hasn't happened since your first month of dating Connie.
”Don't like it sweetheart?”
Damn his smirk.
”That's enough out of you Eren.” You were bluffing out your ass at this point, moving on to another aisle but he just had to follow you. He was driving you mad at that point. ”You gonna give me a headache if you keep going.”
I'm sure you won't. You want me to keep going sweet girl. ”But you need my help, right?”
You inhaled deeply before you spoke, turning your head to face him. ”Yeah I might just ask another guy for help if you keep that up.”
Eren's face contorted into surprise, allowing his emotion to show through his face. You wouldn't dare. He moved himself closer to you, his arms crossing with his basket in hand, his face suddenly moving so close you forgot you had to breathe for a second. ”Would you really do that? My heart would be so broken.”
You rolled your eyes and put a hand on his chest, pushing him away slightly leaving him to let out such a sweet, deep laugh. It made you wonder if he was really younger than you or not. You continued walking towards the check out area, getting in a random line with Eren beside you whose eyes were staring so hard you could feel it. I'm just admiring, he told himself, but that was a lie. He couldn't help but to stare at the way your dress hugged your body and how it seemed so soft to the touch, how it developed after your pregnancy, how, if he stood close enough, your behind would be on him and your head on his chest, looking like a real c—
”Eren you're next.”
The boy let his mind wander too far for his own good and he didn't so much as realize it. He just nodded at you, his voice stuck in his throat as he put his own basket of groceries on the conveyor belt. You noticed how he got quiet all of a sudden, giving your son some attention while you waited for him. It wasn't until he finally paid that he looked you in the eyes again, then noticeably trailed his gaze down to your cleavage.
You felt hot again under his gaze, clearing your throat to make him stop. What's with the tension? you ask yourself, walking side by side with him. ”Is something wrong? You staring harder than I did when I first saw you.”
It was meant to be a little funny, you even smiled and was about to force a laugh, but Eren wasn't smiling at all. His face had greed written all over it, and he was well aware of it too. His eyes were more relaxed, lips downturned in a frown. He decided to play along and let a miniscule laugh leave his throat, but his eyes were stuck on you.
”The only thing wrong is how I don't have your number yet,” he finally replied, to which your eyes doubled a little.
You both were standing at your car by time he finished his declaration. Jus' smile 'n laugh it off. You lowered your head smiling like a little school girl, digging in your purse to find your phone and handed it over to him, shifting impatiently as he typed in the digits slowly as if he were messing with you. He handed the phone back over allowing you to see what he put himself as.
”"Personal shopper" with a green heart emoji?”
”Yeah, like that one Nicki Minaj song? It was piggy.. something.”
You smiled even wider. ”Itty bitty piggy? What you know about that?”
Eren's face looked as if he had won a million dollars with the way he gazed upon you, looking happy and all. ”I just know it's by her.. but it seemed to impress you enough.”
You couldn't help yourself. Him going from being a seductive little shit to being adorable wasn't what you were used to. Sure you and Connie had your moments but it hasn't made you feel as strong as now.
”You're going to call me, right?” You questioned him, not knowing 100% if you both had something solid or it was just a few lucky times of meeting. Seeing him hold out his pinkie however took you by surprise.
”I can pinkie promise on it.”
”Are you a five year old?”
With your protests and his coercion, you locked pinkies with him anyway, getting in your car afterwards sealing your departure from one another. Getting home with so much on your mind from today was like being a deer in headlights, and Isaiah wasn't making it easy either with his fits of wanting whatever he wanted at the time.
It was quiet. A feeling that felt foreign after your long day. Your son had already gone to sleep after being fed, so it was almost eerie. It doesn't make sense because you've been living like this frequently after Connie came around less, but having the presence of someone physically there is always better. You were mindlessly scrolling on your phone looking for better things to occupy yourself with, going as far as going through your YouTube playlist because the silence was overbearing.
”It's quiet isn't it,” Eren says, standing not too far from the bed, his face solemn as he sits in his black bean bag, tweaking with the tuning pegs of his guitar, headphones loosely on his shoulders. His eyes are closed as he imagines a melody in his head, one simple that flows and is easy to register as calming. His fingers are finding their way to the strings of the instrument, strumming them softly. His mouth curls into a smile the more his imagination vividly shifts to the guitar suddenly being you, plush thighs enveloping his slender fingers the more he strokes it, a song coming from your lips.
You hum along to the song of choice playing from your phone, allowing the notes to leave your lips as pleasure seeps through your body. Enjoyment taking over your entire being as the music continues, body writhing around more to get comfortable, eyes shut to enjoy the feeling even more of the euphorium that seems to spread. Your fingers try so hard to stop the adrenaline building but they disobey your mind, rubbing at your bud so hopelessly you can't help but to imagine it was Connie that was helping you. His heavy breaths fanning over your face, his body behind yours as you're sprawled across his lap trying to reach your peak.
I'll help you ride out this tune, He says to you. His long fingers are reaching spots inside you, making you cry out an even sweeter song. His long hair— Connie doesn't have long hair, — A strong build is supporting you as you stuff yourself with your fingers. Eren continues moving his digits, curling them to make you emit a wonderful symphony from your lips. He meticulously moves the end of his fingers, head tilted back against the fabric as sweat builds up all over his body, the song becoming so much for him it corrupts his mind almost.
You're trying so hard to submit yourself to your imagination, biting your lip to stop yourself from becoming too loud but you only get louder, back arched from the warmth he provided, his turquoise colored eyes peering down at you, watching your face contort. Connie doesn't have turquoise eyes though, nor brunette hair. Eren. He's on your mind when you feel the most pleasure you've given yourself in a while. Is it wrong? To think of him right after you get his number? You want to say it's wrong, but the sound of lewd squechling clouds your mind the more your fingers feel more like what you imagine to be his.
Brushing against your clit just barely and you're already teary eyed. Your eyes are screwed shut, his hands holding you firmly. He's keeping you down to keep his own composure, stroking and stroking, getting you so close. His lips are parted as he can see you reaching your peak, your ecstasy, as your pretty moans get louder and louder—
You open your eyes to your fingers being coated in your slick, no longer seeing the long strands of brown hair clouding your view, nor feeling the firm front side of him behind you. Your mind echoed Connie, but your body felt someone else, someone who's been in your mind ever since you gave yourself time to think. He's ruining your body and you're allowing it. Your bonnet was now halfway off after being lost in your head, braids sprawled across your sheets, earbuds no longer connected to your ears playing the slow songs you absorbed yourself to.
Eren's jaw is slack, his eyes finally opening from whatever euphoria he got himself into based on your image in his head. He looked down at himself, his shirt slightly raised revealing his v-line, but moreover there was an obvious outline of his erection showing in his sweats. You got me like this. His hair is a mess and his body temperature is different from before, but all he can do is just sit there, that is until he got the idea to call you. He already decided that he wanted you, that he wanted to be the one you could depend on. The brunette grabbed his phone at the thought, opening his phone to the keypad where he typed your number that he managed to memorize after seeing it from your phone.
Personal shopper💚 - 5:27 PM
Can I call you?
You felt the vibrations of your phone at the notification, and looking at your screen you see it was Eren who texted you. You hadn't expected him to ask to call you, but who were you to deny him. Not like you weren't just imagining having sex with him. Your fingers typed away at the screen, replying with a short "sure" and waiting for him to call you, not expecting him to do so immediately. ”Hey Eren.”
”Hey– hope I didn't catch you at a bad time.”
”No not at all actually,” you couldn't hide the smile on your face, why were you getting so riled up over a phone call?
”You sure?,” he breathily laughed midway. ”You sound groggy and out of breath.”
”Isaiah was wearing me out. I should be askin' you that though. What are you doing?” Was it obvious? Did you sound that out of breath? Would he figure out you were touching yourself to him? It was an erotic idea for him to guide you through the phon—
”Oh. 'M not doing anything besides messing with my guitar, nothin' special.” Liar.
”You play?” You couldn't hide the surprise in your tone. You were intrigued and there was no hiding it. You sat up in your bed as if he could physically see he had your full attention.
Eren liked the tone of your voice resonating in his ears, it got him in a better mood even. Aren't you cute. ”Not as much but I can play a decent song when I feel like it.”
”Can you do a song for me then?”
”Haven't played for anyone in a while–”
”But would you do it for me?” You may have been pressing him a little, but your curiosity was getting the better of you and you liked how shy he sounded.
The line on the other end went silent as he contemplated in his head, but it didn't last long. ”Mmm,” he sounded. ”I'll think about it.”
”Can you think quicker?”
You both shared a laugh, one that sounded genuine and filled the silence that was once present. Any awkward feelings were left behind the more you talked, swinging your legs back and forth when you turned to lay on your stomach. You could hear shuffling from Eren's end and heard the sound of sheets ruffling, assuming he was in bed.
”What do I get in return for doing this exactly?” Think real hard about how you're going to repay me and I might give you what you want.
”Would inviting you over work? 'cause I'm not gonna have Isaiah on saturday.” You figured the timing couldn't be better, and you wanted to see him outside of the market. Being a little selfish never hurt, and it's not like you're in a relationship anymore.
Eren smiled despite you not being able to see it, eyeing the instrument beside his bed. ”Works for me. I'll finish the song for you by then.” You're going to do it again.
You raised your eyebrow, a puff of air coming out your nose. ”A song for me? You'd do that?”
”Since you asked like a sweetheart I figured why not.” He was going to be the death of you.
”You stay playin' too much.” You had to play it off otherwise you would've felt your body hot. You weren't easy to crack but this white boy was doing wonders to you for no reason.
He smiled imagining your reaction, eyes relaxed as he focused on the sound of your voice. It'll sound even sweeter soon. Make sure you forget about your ex.
”I'll see you in a few days then.”
”I'll be looking forward to my song then Eren.”
The wait felt like forever actually. The week couldn't have gone by fast enough and you were growing restless, even though you two have been talking in between. Working didn't help either and you were anticipating the time you two were going to spend together. You managed to always work yourself up over small, or big things, making it one of the biggest stresses until it's solved. Right now, your stress is him. Of course not hearing back from your ex at all was worrying at some points, but you knew it was coming eventually, and now have a better distraction from all that.
Once saturday did finally roll around was when you dolled yourself up more than usual. You got to take your braids out thanks to boredom and styled it completely differently, putting on your best lashes and smearing minor hints of makeup on your face. Was it a lot for one guy? Possibly, but it passed the time.
It wasn't long before the doorbell rang, and opening it revealed Eren with a large black case in the shape of a guitar slung across his shoulder. He looked down at you, a smug smile across his face and lidded eyes that hadn't the slightest expression behind them. He was hard to read sometimes. You let him inside your home, not that big but still bright and open.
”Y'have a nice place,” Eren commented dryly, stepping inside and taking off his shoes at the front door.
”I decorated a majority of it. A woman's touch was all it needed to look nice.” It was meant as a funny comment, but his face remained as stoic as ever. Did something happen?
His body had approached yours, and suddenly you felt intimidated by how close he was. Eren leaned down slightly in order to get closer, looking you up and down and intaking every bit of you. You were wearing a dress that stopped at your mid-thigh, the cleavage being low but you threw on those cropped hoodies that stopped at your breasts so even still you were somewhat exposed, and the sight was in his face. ”So your ex didn't help?”
Eren finally stepped away from you after he spoke, following the open floor plan to your living room, sitting on your sofa with you following behind, sitting near him but keeping a bit of a distance. ”He didn't but he wouldn't 've helped that much anyways. But, how have you been?”
You made yourself sound as polite as possible, and to Eren he couldn't fight back his lips curling upwards, his hair flowing with him. It wasn't in the man bun, it was more like a half-up half-down style with a small ponytail and instead of strands sitting on his face, his hair was more free. ”Decent, getting by. How about you?”
”I could say the same. With Isaiah at his grandmother's I can get some peace.”
I could've helped. ”I was wondering why it was so quiet in here,” he commented.
Eren began pulling out the guitar from the bag, and it seemed so small compared to his larger build but you knew it'd be big if it were you that was playing. He flung the strap around his head and positioned himself comfortably on your couch, leaning back and spreading his legs partially. Is he trying to get under your skin on purpose?
”It took me a bit but hope you like it.”
”I'm sure I will.”
He was hesitant, that was blatantly clear enough. His fingers were still against the strings of the guitar and his face looked uneasy with the amount of times he readjusted himself. He knew he was taking too long to start which is why he said something. ”Sorry, like I said, haven't played for someone else in a while.”
”Take your time then,” you reassured him, placing your hand on his shoulder and rubbing lightly. His body was tense underneath when you first touched him, but he let himself go the more you rubbed.
He finally began tugging at the thin strings, a gentle sound emitting from the instrument that filled the silence. His eyes were fixated on the guitar, but yours were stuck on his face. Did he always have that dimple on his left cheek? You were almost lost in his features until the tune registered in your ears. It was soft, a higher pitch on some parts, but it became a slow melody after that. He was actually good. You found yourself bobbing your head a little to it, glancing at the way Eren's fingers gently struck the instrument, how they seemed to so easily know what note to hit, how to direct the tips of them. Did he always have long fingers like that?
You're so dumbfounded at the features you didn't allow yourself to notice before that you didn't see how Eren was now looking at you, contempt with the way your eyes were glued to his hands, and feeling at ease with your hand still on him. It's not the silence he was expecting but he'd take it if it meant you were right there.
Your hands are moving up, it has him a little nervous and even tense but he seems to melt like putty when you stroke his hair just once. His bottom lip is a little tucked in and the tune of his little song quickened, but his eyes are practically burning into your face the longer you look away, and you enjoy it. You felt the power you had in the situation, making him wait longer than he had to. The tension is already becoming suffocating, and you can hardly hold eye contact for shit, but you want to so badly. You're giving in faster than you can think about it, meeting his eyes feeling like you were in a fever dream.
”You're really good at it.”
Eren had to force a small, breathless laugh to even respond. ”You had me worried with how quiet you were.”
”Just keep playing.”
And that he did. For once he was the first to look away and concentrate on his guitar while you stared like a fucking creep when you just couldn't stop yourself. You were drinking every bit of his features including the softness of his hair. He's trying so hard to avoid your face, but you touching him was making him shift. Wanna fuck me so bad huh. You're touching him in all the right places, your fingers with acrylics on them gliding to his mid-thigh the more he plays, the song becoming much lower. He can't help but look at you now. Not with the way you're practically begging for his dick like a greedy whore.
”Y'really know how to tease someone,” he rasps, voice low at how close yall were. Your plump lips were curved upwards in a sly smile, suddenly retracting your hands as if you weren't all over him. You raise a brow at him as if he hasn't done that to you. ”I have experience.”
There you go again. The guitar is long forgotten by now, leaning against your couch. His body is turned towards yours, his build feeling oppressive with the way it towers over you, and you love it. His arm is rested against the back of the sofa, the other one suddenly grabbing your hand it nearly brings you from your senses. He's putting it on his chest, sliding it up and down his body and now you're melting.
”Can ya show me that experience 'cause right now I wanna kiss you so fuckin' bad.”
You're giving in to him as soon as he gets the words out his mouth, pressing your lips against his and taking control of your own hands again by running them all over his body. Eren isn't hesitant to do the same, pulling you forward so it's skin against skin. He's too shy to admit he likes the contrast of tones and even more shy to admit that he's giving in to every bit of you. His mouth fits like a puzzle against yours and it's over when your tongue brushed against his lips, he's already parting them to allow his own tongue to further itself inside your mouth.
Saliva dribbled down his chin and it felt too soon when you both departed to regain oxygen, his pupils blown with clear need. His cheeks are five shades of red just from a kiss and it has you rubbing your thighs together. ”Touch me, please,” you mumble in between the exchange of spit. He's doing as you said obediently, a different kind of feeling running through your body at his hands roaming your curves and the fact that he listened.
Soon enough you're letting out sounds you hadn't made genuinely in what felt like forever, pulling away from his face to catch your breath. It gave you time to really think, to really process what was going on. You've only known Eren for like two weeks and you're all over him. There's doubt in your face the more you pull away, wiping your wet mouth the longer you avoid his eyes, the same ones you've dreamed about while fucking yourself.
Eren couldn't let this chance pass, not when he had you like this. Lips swollen and damn near straddling him. Not yet, don't stop baby, please, need you right now. He's intertwining his hand into yours, fingers curling in between your own so he can pull you back towards him. It was gentle, a stark contrast to before but it had you back in his embrace instantly. ”C'mon, lemme take care of you. You deserve it so much.”
”You want it that bad with me?” You couldn't help but inquire, searching his face for bits of truth because the last thing you'd want is to be used again. You were scared.
He suddenly lifted you from the couch after scooping you up by the ass into his arms, holding you up by the underside of your thighs. ”Do you really–”
”Fuck, yes, been wanting it from ya for a while.” Let me fuck you how you deserve to be fucked. Eren's lips are on yours again as he walked, carrying you upstairs until your back suddenly hit a wall. Your tongues are practically dancing with each other. Your breath hot and so damn rigged. His body is pressed against yours so close you can feel something hard against your leg. His chest heaving up and down. He's keeping you up far enough just to kiss you deep enough. Fuck he's taking over your damn mind.
”Which way,” he paused just to kiss you again. ”..is your room.”
”Door on the left.”
You're out of breath but you still want more which is a damn shame. You can feel your panties become soiled the more you try to move in his grasp. He's already opening your door by then and carefully laying you on your mattress, hovering above your body and looking so far into your eyes you're sure he knows every bit of thought you've had about him.
Your hands are moving on their own traveling up his shirt, tugging at it eagerly to get him to take it off. Eren can't help but grin at this, helping you pull his shirt off and toss it somewhere, but he eyed your dress as if he hated it. ”Y'want me to take it off?” He asked as he eyed you further, hands sliding up your waist and following the outline of your body until you said yes. He pulled it off you and as soon as he did he pulled down your bra. ”Eren wait—”
”I can't wait anymore, need to have you. Please let me [name].” Eren's eyes met yours and every bit of logical thinking got thrown out the window. He looked so damn needy with his hair tussle and swollen lips, hands not stopping the constant kneeding to your thick flesh, all of which he's trying not to get carried away in. His eyes look a much darker shade of turquoise, and in that moment you felt like he'd tear you apart the more he looked at you. ”Go ahead, 'n try not to disappoint me.”
”I don't plan on keeping you bored,” and as quick as he finished his lips latched on to your nipple, a choked whine leaving your mouth because his mouth felt so wet and warm against your skin it was addictive. He kept flicking his tongue and sucking eagerly while undressing himself, and seeing the imprint in his boxers made you whine even more. You needed him, falling into his trap of touches and harsh licks, your thighs locking around his waist to grind yourself on him.
”I know baby, I wanna lose myself to you too, but there's something I wanna try.”
”And what's that?”
He answered your question by placing his mouth on your other nipple. Your mind was in a daze at the built up pressure of your chest suddenly feeling relief and it only then hit you what he wanted to try. He was milking your breasts fucking dry and you were more turned on by it. You had to rub your cunt against him, the ache was becoming unbearable because of the mess he was making on your chest. ”Eren, shit, Eren please, I can't take anymore waiting, need you in me.”
He let go of your nipple with a pop sound resonating in your ears, his mouth a complete mess from indulging himself in his filthy fantasy of sucking your tits and getting something out of them. Really it was something he should've been embarrassed about but thinking of the way your body reacted to it didn't help, he needed you in his mouth, in his hold. He can't let another second pass by where you're not near him chanting his name.
”I wanna savor this a little longer [name], be a little patient with me.”
You're nodding along and even still he sends a firm slap to the side of your thigh where your tattoo is and a small yelp leaves your mouth that distracts you long enough so he can finally pull down his boxers. His length springs free from its confinement and you can't help but let your jaw slack a little.
”God you're bigger than I imagined.”
You thought about us fucking haven't you. ”You've imagined my size?” He lets out a small chuckle.
”Don't get too cocky,” you responded, but Eren wasn't going to let your comments slide, yanking your underwear down your thighs and throwing them across the room, eyeing your mound having a starved haze over it. It wasn't enough for him though, he's greedy and selfish with what he wants.
”Spread your legs,” he orders and you can feel the heat rush to your face, spreading yourself open until his hand pushes your thighs back further, having your pussy sprawled out for him like a meal. His eyes are locked on to how wet you were, reaching a hand down to allow his fingers to spread you more. You couldn't help but giggle at his enthralment, keeping yourself open for him, wiggling your hips just a bit. His fingers spread your puffy lips open and it was then he lost it. Your cute hole fluttered open as more of your slick coated your inner thighs, your clit poking out just for him.
Eren finally began to line himself up to your cunt, lightning sparks in your body the longer he looked at you and the more he rubbed his tip against your already engorged clit, a moan withdrawing from your throat.
”You gonna let me in sweet thing?” You shuddered as goosebumps appeared on your skin, nodding your head slowly because coming up with a coherent response felt impossible. He lowered his head towards your neck, biting and kissing and suckling on your skin as he finally eased the tip inside you.
”Ng..ghh fuck,” you inhaled sharply the more he pushed on, but he suddenly stopped and you whined despite feeling so damn full already. You can feel his breath staggering against your neck as it trails further up to your lips, capturing them in another one of his overpowering kisses that you submerged yourself into. He continued to push himself in again and that's when you felt the pressure to a specific spongy spot within you. He curved a good ways to the right and inside you it was the perfect amount of pressure that had you hyperventilating.
”Let me know when you're ready, y'look like you struggling.” He kept his eyes on yours the entire time, watching your cute face contort. Eren had a guilty pleasure for watching you struggle to take him. He was big and he knew it. Your mouth had been quivering, trying to adjust to the mere thickness of him, but seeing his face written with knowing had you fixing your own. ”Just.. start moving.”
Your command had been answered with a breathless chuckle once Eren finally started moving his hips back and forth at a slow pace. Every time he bottomed out you felt a painfully good pressure in your stomach. Low mewls resonated in your throat as he kept going, adjusting to both his size and the pace of friction he set. Eren's mouth hung ajar, eyes lidded but locked onto the way he slid in and out of you. You're so goddamn wet.
”Fuck.” He couldn't keep his hands off you any longer. It'd be a waste not to touch you when you're underneath him after all. His body leaned forward until you were face to face, his hands drifting towards yours and guiding them to wrap around his neck. ”I-... want you to hold onto me, alright?” You gave him a meek nod as an answer until you felt a shift in pace. You were only just getting adjusted to the slow and steady tone but with his size going like this had you feeling hazy and lightheaded. You needed him closer to you, feeling his skin against yours, feeling like you'd lose yourself to the feeling of his dick without it.
”Oh my God—” you rasp and claw at his back to ease some of the pleasure, even if it's just by a little bit, but no matter how close you pull him to your body it's not enough. Losing yourself on me, too fuckin' cute.
Eren loves how vocal you are, and it's all for him. The way you shudder when his hips snap against your pussy, the way you squeeze him to damn near suffocation, he has to bite his lip to stop himself from moaning like a bitch. His lips meet the crevice of your neck, his teeth beginning to tug at your skin as a way to muffle his moans, but you feel them vibrate in your body and it has you digging your nails into his back.
”Just like that.. keep grabbing me, not goin' anywhere sweetheart.” The way his voice sounded right at your ear had you whining again. He sounded so fucking sexy. All you can do is just nod.
You're grasping at the chance for air when his pace increases. At that point it felt like he was just so goddamn deep inside you to the point where it even stung a little. ”'Ren.. Eren. Hurts– too deep,” you plead to him, a hand of yours leaving his back to push his hips away a little, but his hand is quick to swat it away and hold your waist. ”Can't help it, you keep pulling me in. Feels so good I can't help it.. fuuck.”
The best you can do is sniffle as a sob leaves your lips. It sounded so beautiful to Eren though, like the beautiful melody that's been playing in his head on repeat. He needed to hear more from you because you sounded so pretty, so cute. But he couldn't see your face like this when he knows it's probably tear stained and fucking slutty, so he moves his head from your neck to get a better look at you, and he couldn't be more right. Your eyes were glued to the way his pelvis met yours, tears on your cheeks from the way it felt like he was in your stomach. Fuck. ”You look so pretty like this. Pretty little face and the prettiest pussy in the world.”
He left you speechless at his choice of words. They were so filthy but they felt so good, just as good as the pressure in your pussy. How could a man fuck like that? Like him? Can't tell if you love him or his dick, or both. His eyes stayed lidded and locked on you, but you looked like you were losing yourself, so he tapped your cheek. ”Don't go passing out on me.”
You giggle with little breath, gasping in between but your body is giving itself away, jerking and writhing feeling heat pool in your clit. ”Sorry, 'm getting close. Mmmh.. I'm gonna cum soon if you keep moving like that.”
”Then I wanna see your face, wanna see how beautiful it is. Wanna see it when you cum.” It's all he can say because there's an eagerness to seeing you unravel. He felt it too, feeling himself tighten and ache feeling the way your warmth squeezed him just right. Shit, forgot a condom. At that point Eren didn't care, he'd just pull out. You didn't seem to care either, your whines getting louder and your hand going to push at his waist again once he startes fucking you harder than before. You missed being able to hold him the way you were before, but you also liked the view of him looming above you, exposed chest, v-line and all.
”Oh fuck, oh my God, Eren– shit.” Your free hand starts gripping the sheet beside your head feeling yourself cum and spasm on his cock, biting your lip as you moan.
Eren felt the new sudden feeling of something creamy on him, looking at where the two of you connected and saw your essence seep out of your hole as he kept fucking into you. The sight had him on the edge, body sweating and full of so much damn regret as he pulled out. He's desperately wrapping a hand around his shaft and fucking his fist, head tilted back trying to imagine that he was still inside you. The sight was so sexy, to watch him get off to the thought of your pussy still hugging him, even as your breath was still ragged and mind hazy you wanted to remember that forever.
”So fuckin' beautiful– ahh. Your ex didn't deserve this perfect pussy, this perfect body— fuck!” He's so frustrated that he has to finish like this, but he's the one that gets to cover you in his cum and the thought alone gets him spurting thick ropes of white onto your stomach and clit, some dripping down onto your partially gaping hole. God your ex. If he could rub it in his face it'd probably make him cum again that he gets to fuck you better than him.
You're admiring the way he keeps leaking onto your body, white pools glistening against your skin. You were breathless and the space where your legs met your pelvis were starting to ache the longer you held them in this position so you put them down. By doing that you didn't think you'd get his attention though. ”Who said we was done, sweet thing? Put your legs back up f'me.” Go ahead and arch your eyebrow.
An eyebrow of yours raised, looking him up and down when all he did was just look at you with that same cocky smirk you remember from the market. ”Oh really?” You weren't gonna back out now, and in all honestly Eren wasn't either. He wanted to test your limits, see and learn what your body likes.
The night before seemed like forever ago, or a messy dream at that, because before you knew it the sun was shining through your black-out curtains signifying that a day had passed. The aching where your legs met your pelvis couldn't be more overwhelming, but the sleep you got distracted you from the dull ache. Horny fucker.
Originally you were meant to go sex-free for a while, but clearly your mind and pussy had other plans. Not like you had much room for regret though because it was one of the best experiences of your life. Eren. He was so much better than you could've imagined, he even changed your bed sheets for you while you showered independently. You smiled reminiscing on the aftermath, but you wanted to see him, see his pretty face again, hear his voice. Should I be like this?
You turned over only to be met with an empty bed, sitting up from your laying position to study your empty room. You didn't hear anything, nor felt movement in your own bed so you wondered if he left. Damn, just how good did he fuck you for you to not hear him leave? Even still, there was a high chance he did since he didn't live with you, and it more or less felt like a one night stand.
You shouldn't feel so disappointed, but at the same time you want to call him and ask him where he is, listen to him talk, just be with him. But he wasn't there, in the same fashion that Connie wasn't there either. For fucks sake. One pretty guy enters your life and he's already imprinted on your mind. You're sitting up by then, legs dangling over the edge of your bed as you sit and contemplate whether you should try to find out where he is, however what if he didn't answer and your apartment is actually empty? You didn't want to admit you were scared, but the questions spiraling in your head made your anxiety spike.
Not again, not like this shit again. You can't let yourself be fucked over by another guy again, you've already been at that point. Being so lost in your own head you got up from your bed, motioning towards your connected bathroom to fix your appearance because you'd be damned if you let yourself be a mess over another person. Except you stop, standing in front of your bathroom door as the strong smell of food hit your nose. Who the fuck?
You don't remember eating anything last night, so you blamed the smell on your hunger, but just as you're about to step fully in your bathroom it hits you stronger until you're already gravitating towards your bedroom door. Opening it, you're met with the sound of your son's giggling. He shouldn't be home yet so how is he inside? Instinct tells you to investigate, rushing down the stairs and seeing the bare backside of a tall man with brown hair sprawled down his neck and shoulders.
”Morning sweetheart.”
Your feet move you forward, eyes a little wide and all. ”But you– how did Isaiah…?”
You can't even finish the question, your voice trailing off as you try to connect the dots. Meanwhile Eren had turned to face you, placing the cooking utensil down from making fried potatoes. ”A lovely woman who looked like you brought him home. Told me I was handsome too.” All you do is scoff while going over to your babbling son, picking him up out of his high chair to hold him.
You didn't mean to stay silent but you're still trying to make it make sense. First you thought he was gone and now here he is cooking you breakfast. Who the hell sent this man to me? ”First of all she lied,” you retorted in an attempt to hide your slight awkwardness. It was Eren's turn to scoff at that. ”Secondly, that was my mother.”
”I guessed that much because she has wonderful taste.” You look him up and down, not being able to hold a wide smile back when you know fully well it was because of the reddish marks on his neck and collarbone. Pretty thing was worrying about me. Eren could tell by how your body language gave you away. You came downstairs tense, but now you look lax.
”I'm assuming you hungry.” He begins motioning to two plates he somehow manages to find in your unorganized kitchen. ”Yes, please I'm starving.”
It's when he begins making your plate that a ring resonates throughout your apartment. Must be mom. You set Isaiah back down in his high chair and went towards the front door, assuming your mother had possibly forgotten to drop off something that belonged to your son since she seemed to do that a lot, so you don't care to make yourself presentable since she's seen you at your worst.
”Ma what you–” You spoke before opening the door, but the last person you expected to see standing there just had to be there. Just fucking had to be. Eren must have somehow known you were just standing there based on your silence, because he came over to stand behind you with his hands in his pockets assuming your mother was standing there. You both couldn't have been more wrong, and you really really wished you were.
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