#keep your friends close!~ 🩵 | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

danysdaughter · 1 month ago

Text

Love Island!Bucky Headcanons

pairing | love!island!bucky x fem!reader

word count | 3.5k words

a/n | yooooo, guys, ive literally been working since tues, every night closing 11:30pm😃🔫. this life is nawttt for the weak, on my soul, this job is taking years off my life, i just wanna be my teenage girl self and this life is not letting me!!!!

this is literally the first time I'm doing headcanons and I don't think I've done it right at all, but YOLO

alsoooooo im so glad my amaya papaya chose bryan and yesterday's ep made me smile so hard. anywayyyyyy pls americans vote for my girl amaya and bryan as best couple, im begginggg

y'all it's almost 3am and I'm tired af. and I'm going to sleep, i have work tomorrow at 12

taglist | if you wanna be added to my bucky barnes masterlist just add your username to my taglist 🩵

likes comments and reblogs are much appreciated ✨✨

ᴍᴀsᴛᴇʀʟɪsᴛ - ᴘᴀʀᴛ 2

divider by @cafekitsune

First Coupling (Not Together) 💞

You walk into the villa confident and cracking jokes, immediately becoming a fan fave for your sass and no-BS attitude.

Bucky comes in a few days later as a bombshell — and everyone’s jaws drop. He’s flirty from the jump, but he picks another girl, one of the sweet ones who's all giggles and long lashes. You're unbothered (publicly), but the tension? PALPABLE.

You Get Played (Classic Villa Move)

You couple with this gym bro type who talks like he’s serious, but starts flirting with other girls behind your back.

The classic "I'm just keeping my options open" guy. When the truth comes out during a challenge or truth/dare night? You serve face, roll your eyes, and say, “I knew he was full of it, but I wanted to be wrong.”

Bucky sees it all. He’s been lowkey watching you the whole time, sending little comments like:

“That guy’s a fool, y’know. I wouldn’t’ve let you out of my sight.”

But he’s still with his OG girl, so you brush it off. Maybe he’s just being nice. (He’s not.)

The Twist Coupling 💞

It’s recoupling night. Everyone’s paired. You and another girl are the only ones left. You’re resigned to going home — standing there with your arms crossed and chin high, trying not to show you’re mad that your guy played you and Bucky’s still with the other girl.

But then.

“I’d like to couple up with this girl because she’s fiery, honest, and doesn’t take anyone’s crap. She’s been through it this week, and I think she deserves someone who actually sees her worth... So the girl I’d like to couple up with is—”

Cue dramatic pause. Camera on shocked faces.

When Bucky says your name, the villa goes SILENT. Literal gasps. Even the producers are gagged.

His original girl looks like she’s been slapped.

You blink. You squint. You’re convinced you heard wrong.

You walk over in pure shock, and when you stand next to him, instead of giving a sweet line, he hits you with:

“Don’t get excited, doll. I just flipped a coin.”

Confessional (cut to you, wild-eyed):

“Everyone’s lookin’ at me like I Jedi mind-fucked this man into saying my name. Meanwhile, if they took one look at my face they’d see I was just as gagged. You're confused? I'm fucking confused, bro. I mean, I'm standing there rehearsing my ‘fuck y’all, it’s been real’ speech and then—boom. My name. From him. What the helly?”

Post-Coupling Confrontation 👀

You pull Bucky for a chat after the coupling, already skeptical.

He’s relaxed on the beanbags like he didn’t just blow up the villa dynamics.

“I didn’t pick you to be a hero, sweetheart. I picked you ‘cause I wanted her gone. Clingy’s cute for five minutes—then it’s just loud.”

You laugh, a little surprised by the honesty, and nod.

“So what, you picked me to prove a point?” “Nah. I picked you ‘cause you’re the only one who doesn’t throw herself at me or cry when I don’t cuddle. Plus, we’d make a solid team.”

You stare at him for a moment, annoyed but impressed.

“So, we’re friends now?” “Friends who don’t get dumped from the villa. Unless you’ve secretly been in love with me this whole time.”

You flip him off.

Platonic Coupling Agreement 🤝

You both agree to couple up "strategically" — a villa alliance. You tell each other it’s platonic while secretly spending way more time together than necessary.

You lounge together, nap together (strictly no cuddling — at first), and throw sarcastic comments from the daybeds like the villa’s own Statler and Waldorf.

“She’s doing her baby voice again,” you mutter during a convo across the pool. “Should we start placing bets on who cries in the next 10 minutes?” Bucky adds.

But the chemistry? Dangerously high. And the longer you stay in this “platonic” couple… the blurrier the lines get.

Bucky in the confessional: “Nah, she’s just my emotional support chaos gremlin.” You in yours: “He’s like a sexy golden retriever who talks like he’s from the 40s and can’t stop winking. It’s actually like seriously annoying.”

────────────

You and Bucky become the commentary couple. Always on the daybed, sunglasses on, whispering into each other’s ears like you’re the villa’s own messy podcast.

“Why is she acting like they’ve been married ten years? They’ve been coupled up for four days.” “It’s the delusion for me.” “She’s already picked out baby names and I don't even think he knows her last name.”

You have a routine: share breakfast, roll your eyes in sync, and deliver savage but accurate commentary during firepit chats. Viewers are OBSESSED.

New Bombshell Enters 🔥

Tall, charming, with perfect teeth — he immediately clocks you as the villa’s "hard to get" girl and makes a beeline. Starts flirting. You’re flattered but playfully skeptical, throwing jabs but keeping it light.

Across the villa, Bucky watches with way too much interest for a “platonic partner.” Crossed arms. Jaw ticking. He will not stop glancing over.

Later, he corners you with a smirk.

“So, Mr. Model’s your type now?” “Didn’t know I had a type.” “Yeah, apparently it’s ‘generic charm and hair gel.’”

You raise a brow, amused.

“Are you jealous?” “What? No. Just saying—he’s not as funny as he thinks he is.”

Jealous. Absolutely jealous.

He Falls First ❤️

He starts doing little things bringing you coffee the way you like it, staying up late to talk about random stuff, getting defensive whenever a new guy even talks to you. But you don’t catch it. You’re convinced he’s playing the long game — riding your partnership to the finals.

You in confessional:

“Bucky’s a good partner. Strategic. Smart. Kinda hot when he’s not being annoying. But I know his game — he’s making sure he gets to that 100k. I’m not an idiot.”

Meanwhile, Bucky’s lying awake next to you, staring at the ceiling like:

“How the hell did I fall for the one girl who thinks I’m just in this for screen time?”

Casa Amor🏖️

The girls stay in the main villa, while the boys head off to Casa Amor. Before Bucky leaves, things are… weird. Tension’s been building. He’s been acting almost like he wants to say something, but never does. And you?

You in confessional:

“He’s not mine. He’s free to explore, obviously. I’m not gonna be the girl who waits around and gets played. But also… I’m not gonna pretend I don’t care.”

And yet — when temptation arrives in the form of gym-honed muscles and cologne that smells like deception, you hold your ground. Flirty convos? Sure. But when it comes time to choose, you say:

“I’m staying single. My connection with Bucky might be confusing, but I’m not ready to throw it away yet.”

Meanwhile at Casa Amor 🔥

Bucky’s spiraling. He misses you. Constantly thinking about your jokes, the way you roll your eyes, how you always call him out. But… he also believes you don’t feel the same.

Bucky in confessional:

“She’s never shown me more than friendship. And I— I need to protect myself. I can’t come back single and get humiliated on national TV.”

So, he couples up with a new girl. Not because he wants to. But because he thinks he has to.

The Recoupling — THE Scene 💔

The villa is silent as the boys walk back in. Bucky’s holding hands with his Casa Amor girl. Cocky smile. Trying to convince himself this was the right call.

And then—he sees you.

Standing alone.

Single.

Waiting.

Not even crying — just staring at him like he’s a complete stranger.

Camera cuts to everyone’s shocked faces.

Ariana: “You’ve decided to remain single. Can you explain why?” You (calm, almost nonchalant): “Because I thought what we had was worth waiting for. (you shrug your shoulders) Guess I was wrong.”

Bucky’s face drops. He’s instantly sick. Guilt. Regret. That look of someone who just fumbled the person who was actually real.

The new girl’s smiling awkwardly. The silence is deafening.

Post-Recoupling Fallout 📽️

You’re sitting in the confessional chair, body stiff, hands clasped in your lap. Your eyes are glassy, rimmed with red — but no tears fall. You’re holding them back with everything in you.

The producers ask how you’re feeling.

You take a shaky breath, force out a laugh that sounds like it hurts, and say:

“I wanna go home. I’m actually being so for real right now. Please, someone get my suitcase. Because I don’t wanna be here anymore.”

You glance away from the camera, blinking fast. Your jaw tightens like you’re biting the inside of your cheek to keep it together.

“I stood there, alone, in front of everyone. Looking like this dumbass while he walks back holding some other chick's hand. Like I’m the fucking idiot for having feelings. Like I imagined the whole thing.”

You shake your head, voice cracking:

“And the worst part? I didn’t even expect him to come back single. I just— I thought maybe he’d show me I mattered. But I guess I’m not worth that.”

Cut to Villa 🎬

You’re sitting alone, sunglasses on at night, hoodie pulled up — doing your best to disappear on the beanbags while Bucky’s across the firepit, staring at you like he knows he ruined everything.

Bucky in confessional (head in hands):

“I thought she didn’t feel the same. I was trying to protect myself, not hurt her. But when I saw her standing there all alone… I’ve never felt more like a loser in my life.”

Confrontation Scene 💥

It’s late. Most islanders are inside. You’re sitting outside by the pool, arms crossed tight over your chest, hoodie still up, knees drawn in. Silent. Closed off.

You hear footsteps. Heavy. Familiar.

“Can we talk?”

You don’t even look at him.

“I don’t wanna talk to you.”

Pause. Tension thick in the air. He doesn’t move.

“Yeah? Well, I wanna talk to you.”

You stand up fast, like your body can’t sit through this conversation. Still not facing him.

“What, so you can make me feel even more shitty than I already do? Newsflash, Buck, you nailed that one already.”

He takes a step closer. Carefully.

“No. I’m not here to make excuses. I’m here because I need you to hear me.” “I heard you. Loud and clear. You walked back holding her hand. That said everything.”

You try to walk past him — but his hand reaches out. Not rough, not forceful. Just… steady. He catches your wrist, and when you try to pull away, he doesn’t let go. Gently, but firmly, he keeps hold.

“Please. Just let me explain.” “Why? So you can tell me it didn’t mean anything? That you ‘didn’t know how I felt’? You knew. You just didn’t care.”

You’re standing there, body tense, wrist still in his grasp. You’ve tried to push him away. He won’t budge. Not with force — just that stubborn, aching softness that says he’s still clinging to hope.

“Don’t do that. Don’t shut me out when I finally got the guts to admit I messed this up. I chose wrong. And I regret it every second I look at you.”

That’s when your voice drops to barely a whisper.

“Why didn’t you just pick me?”

His eyes meet yours — red-rimmed, tired, exposed. And when he answers, his voice cracks open.

“Because I didn’t think you’d pick me.”

The words hit the air like a slap.

Everything in your chest lurches forward and backward at the same time. You can’t tell if you’re about to scream or cry — maybe both.

“Are you serious?” “You were always laughing with other guys. Saying we were just friends. I thought… I thought I was just someone you could lean on. Not someone you’d actually want.”

Your eyes well up. You take a shaky step back, pulling your wrist from his grip — and this time, he lets you go.

“You thought I wouldn’t pick you, so you didn’t pick me. And now we’re both here. Hurt. For what, Bucky?” “For being two idiots who couldn’t say how we felt.”

You’re shaking your head now — furious, exhausted, and done holding back.

“You don’t get to stand here acting like the victim, Bucky. You chose her. You didn’t even hesitate. And I stood there — in front of everyone — like a fucking joke.”

He stays quiet. Still. Just watching you with those ocean-deep eyes, face full of regret. He doesn’t interrupt. Doesn’t flinch.

“You made me feel like I was nothing. Like everything we built meant nothing. And now what? You want to fix it? With what, exactly? A sad little speech and puppy blue eyes?”

Still no response. He just lets you speak.

“I was loyal to you. I waited. I trusted you. Even when I didn’t want to. Even when I told myself not to catch feelings for you, I still—”

Your voice breaks.

You turn away. Take a breath. Hands clenched at your sides.

And he still says nothing.

Not because he doesn’t have anything to say — but because he knows this moment isn’t about him. It’s about you.

“You didn’t even fight for me, Bucky. That’s what hurts the most.”

He finally steps forward, slow and cautious, like approaching a wounded animal.

“I know.” “That’s all you’ve got? ‘I know’?” “Yeah. Because there’s nothing I can say that makes it okay. I fucked up. I didn’t trust what we had. I thought I was protecting myself, but all I did was hurt you.”

You look at him then. Eyes still glassy. He’s not defensive. He’s not deflecting. He just stands there, open and raw, waiting for you to decide what happens next.

“You don’t owe me forgiveness. I just… I needed you to know I’m sorry. And if there’s anything I can do to make this better — I’ll do it. Even if it means walking away.”

You’re quiet now. Too quiet. Hands trembling slightly as you bring them up to your face, fingers pressing under your eyes to stop the tears from spilling over.

You don’t look at him when you speak again — your voice is soft, but it cuts sharp:

“You made me feel really fucking dumb.”

That’s the one that almost takes you out. Saying it out loud. Admitting it.

“Like I was some naïve little girl, thinking the guy I joked around with every day — the one who brought me coffee, made me laugh, looked at me like I mattered — was actually choosing me.”

You pause, breathing ragged. You wipe at your face again, but it’s useless now. A tear slips down anyway.

“I stood there thinking, ‘Don’t cry. Don’t let them see it hurt.’ But it did, Bucky. It fucking hurt.”

He’s quiet for a beat. Then:

“I know it did.” “And I hate that I’m the reason. I hate that I made you question something that was real — something I felt every damn day.”

You finally glance up, just in time to see him take a step forward.

“I didn’t think I deserved you. But I never wanted you to feel like you weren’t enough.”

He’s closer now. Slow, careful steps. Like he’s giving you a hundred chances to pull away. But you don’t.

“You were always enough. I just... didn’t think I was.”

And when he’s close enough, he pauses for half a second — eyes searching yours, hand hovering like he’s waiting for permission.

Then he pulls you in.

Arms wrap around you, steady and strong. Not desperate — grounded. Like he’s trying to hold in all the pieces he broke.

And this time… you don’t fight him.

You bury your face in his chest, fists clinging to his shirt, and finally let yourself feel it. The ache, the betrayal, the hope you tried to kill off.

“You’re such an asshole.” “I know. But I’m your asshole… if you’ll still have me.”

Night After the Recoupling 🌙

The villa’s quiet. Everyone’s in bed. Except you.

You can’t do it — sleep in that room while Bucky’s still sharing a bed with her. Even if nothing happens. Even if he’s trying to make things right. It still feels like betrayal just breathing the same air in that space.

So you grab your blanket, slip outside, and curl up in Soul Ties — the same place where you two used to whisper jokes and throw shade. The place that used to feel safe. Now it just feels cold.

You try to sleep.

You don’t.

Later That Night ✨

Bucky stirs. Looks across the room.

Your bed? Empty.

He checks the patio door and sees you — curled up alone, hood pulled over your head, blanket tight around you like armor.

He waits. Watches the others settle. Listens to the breathing shift from restless to deep sleep.

Then he slips out of bed.

Soft steps. Quiet hands as he opens the door.

He walks outside, crosses over towards Soul Ties, and pauses — just watching you.

Then, gently, carefully, he climbs in behind you. Doesn’t say anything. Just slides in slow, his chest pressing to your back, arm coming around your waist like it’s always belonged there.

You sighed softly, not even bothering to turn around.

“You shouldn’t be here.” “Don’t care.”

His voice is low, honest. No bravado, no teasing — just a quiet ache. His arm tightens just slightly around you. You don’t pull away. You don’t even breathe for a second.

Then, slowly, you turn in his arms.

Now you're facing him. Just inches apart. His eyes searching yours in the dark, moonlight casting soft shadows over his face.

“She’s still your girl. You’re still coupled.” “She’s not you.”

His hand slides up, knuckles grazing your cheek. You lean into the touch before you realize it.

“I couldn’t sleep. Not with you out here thinking I didn’t mean what I said.” “And what did you mean?”

He leans in closer — forehead almost brushing yours.

“That I’d choose you. Every time. I was just too much of a coward to do it when it counted.”

The air thickens. His gaze flicks between your eyes, then to your lips — slow and deliberate, but not assuming. Waiting. Giving you the chance to back away.

You don’t.

Instead, your fingers curl into the collar of his hoodie, anchoring yourself there. A silent yes.

He moves first — barely.

His nose brushes yours. Then his lips hover just over your mouth, not quite touching. Close enough to feel the heat, the need, the way he’s holding himself back like he’s afraid if he takes too much, he won’t be able to stop.

Then finally — finally — he closes the space.

It’s not rushed. Not rough. It’s slow, like he’s learning the shape of your mouth, like he’s memorizing you with every second. His lips part against yours in a careful pull, then press in deeper, surer, like he’s been aching for this and never let himself believe he could have it.

You respond instinctively — your hand sliding up into his hair, fingertips curling at the nape of his neck. You tilt your chin slightly, meeting him with just as much intensity.

He groans softly into your mouth — barely audible, but there. It makes your heart stutter.

The kiss turns messier for a breath, more urgent — like the both of you are falling into something you’ve been holding back for too long. But even in the tension, it never loses the softness — like you’re trying to comfort each other in the only language you both understand now.

Camera zooms in — soft lighting, silence but for the wind — the kind of moment the audience screams over.

When you finally break apart, lips swollen and foreheads pressed together, there’s no sound but the whisper of wind and the ragged way you’re both breathing.

He doesn’t let go. He just holds you tighter — like letting go now would undo all of it.

And you stay there. In that tiny, stolen piece of peace. Just you, him, and a kiss that changed everything.

Bucky Barnes Taglist:

@ruexj283 @muchwita @fayeatheart @Leathynn @thealloveru2 @person-005 @princeescalus @lilac13 @solana-jpeg @jeongiegram @winchestert101 @s-sh-ne @n3ptoonz @avgdestitute @xamapolax @Finnickodairslut @honeyhera29 @macbaetwo @rafespeach @bythecloset @ashpeace888 @buckmybarnes @c-grace56 @ozwriterchick @slutforsr @novaslov @xamapolax @theoraekenslover @user911224 @Tafuller @luminousvenomvagrant

those who couldn't be tagged are in bold :(

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky x reader #bucky x you #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes #bucky barnes fluff #james buchanan barnes #james bucky buchanan barnes #bucky barnes smut

2K notes · View notes

bluewxrld07 · 1 month ago

Text

Soap (2)

Lando Norris X F!Reader

Summary: Y/N has always loved hard and shows that through affection. Especially lately. She's a touch-starved kind of lovergirl, and Lando has always been okay with it. At least she thought so.

Guess I better wash my mouth out with soap

Warning(s): angst, possessiveness, physical altercations

A/N: Tag list is completely full!! You guys are amazing wtf😭🩵 The keyboard got away from me, guys. Good luck getting through this🤧. Oops hehe. There's a poll at the bottom, so feel free to vote after reading. See u soon, friends

The world was quiet.

It was calm, especially after all the noise from the race weekend.

Y/N was tired. She couldn't keep her eyes open, her mental state just shutting down the more she stayed awake.

It felt as if she was feeling everything at once, and that brought her to the point of numbness. Feeling nothing at all. Just complete tiredness.

Max looked back from the front seat, seeing her state, fighting the exhaustion from all the crying and debriefs they had stuck around for. He could see her mind shutting down, her eyes lazily following the objects that they passed by.

She had told him she would come out with them, despite the way her eyes were puffy as she assured him.

At this point, he would put a chair in front of the door to prevent her from leaving. There would always be another opportunity for her to go out with them. He couldn't bear to see how she'd try to hold herself while being out at a loud restaurant. Not after what happened.

It was the way Max's heart broke as he heard her sob to herself in his arms.

The last time he had ever seen her cry, let alone cry like this, was when her childhood cat had to be put down. That was almost six years ago.

She's the strongest person he's ever met, ever seen. Especially with what she deals with on a daily basis.

The girl was now slowly letting her eyes close, barely fighting it. Her eyes felt too sore and heavy to put any more battle into keeping herself fully conscious.

When they arrived back at the hotel, Max couldn't help but jump out of the car and quickly open her door.

He didn't hesitate to wrap one arm under her legs, the other around her back, before lifting her into his arms. His security guard scurried over with his arms out to take her instead, Max shaking his head. "I've got her, don't," he sternly orders, the guard nodding slowly before backing away and guiding them inside.

Max felt her grip tighten on his black button-up, clenching and unclenching as she tried fighting her tiredness.

He reached his hotel room, letting his guard swipe the keycard as Max nodded at him. "I won't be long," he says to him, receiving a nod as he holds the door open for the pair.

His guard closes the door behind them, standing outside to give Max privacy, while the driver walks Y/N over to his bed. He sets her body down softly on the mattress, watching her stir slightly to look at him with a furrow.

"Max," she mutters, her eyes barely able to keep her eyes open. "What's-"

He shook his head with a hum, sitting by her side and caressing her cheek. "No," he says. "You need to rest."

Her puffed eyes tried to look up at him through her lashes, and Max rubbed a thumb over the dried tears that sat on her cheek. "What about dinner?"

He chuckles softly. "There'll be plenty more," he nods down at her. "You need to let your body and mind rest after today," he tells her. He watches her softly grab his wrist, only to hesitate before her fingers could wrap around his skin, deciding against it and putting her hand down.

Max frowns as she turns away from him. "Schat?" he asks in confusion.

She shook her head. "Please just don't," her voice sounding shaky. "You're doing enough. I don't want to suffocate you."

Max swears his chest tightens at her words. She had never pushed his touch away. Let alone anyone's. "Schat, you aren't."

"Maybe there is something wrong with me. Maybe I shouldn't be this way."

Oh, he was going to kill Lando.

Instead of saying anything else, knowing if she turned away, that she was truly done talking, he stood up and leaned over her with both of his hands caging her small figure in, holding him up from crushing her. He lets his lips press to her temple.

"You're never suffocating," he assures her. "Your love and affection with everyone is my favorite thing about you."

With that, he stands up slowly and turns around to walk towards the door to leave. He doesn't miss the way he hears her sobs quietly leave her lips, Max fighting with himself to just stay there and hold her the rest of the night.

Yet he knew that when she wanted space, which was a rare sighting, to give her the space she was creating.

Once he let the door shut softly behind him, he kept his head down while his mind raced a million miles a minute. His guard spoke up after a few moments. "Max?"

The Dutch driver clenches his jaw for a second, his head snapping up with a darker look in his eyes.

"Let's go, or we'll be late."

They were both off shortly after that, Max's pace faster with every step he took. He could feel his insides burning. Twisting.

The drive was quiet as they made their way to the restaurant, Max keeping his gaze out the window as he fidgeted with his bottom lip. His jaw was clenching and unclenching every other moment.

He didn't hesitate to whip his door open once they arrived, not giving the valet driver a chance to open it for him.

He was walking like he had a purpose, and in that moment, he did.

Once his eyes found the large table where the other drivers were sitting, he felt his face harden when he didn't see the familiar McLaren driver there.

The drivers all smile at Max when they see him, some of them soon frowning at his glare.

"Where's Norris?" his voice boomed out, not missing the flinches from a few of the guys that were close to him.

Oscar, being the only one who knew what was about to happen, answers first. "Max, don't."

Max scoffs and swats at him. "Geef me die onzin niet, where is he?" (Don't give me that shit, where is he?)

Everyone's demeanor had dropped immediately, knowing that when Max started speaking Dutch, he was not to be messed with. He was already pissed, and when a pissed off Max is near, nobody wanted to be in that damage path.

"Where?" his voice booms, getting some stares thrown his way. He didn't care.

"I think he went to the bathroom. Said something about needing to freshen up," Pierre announces, not failing to watch as Max makes his way over towards the direction of the restrooms.

Once Max found the hallway leading down to the men's room, he pushed the door open, seeing Lando in front of the sink, patting water over his face. His gaze slowly turned over when he heard the door slam open, his entire face falling and turning white.

"Max-"

"Jij verdomde klootzak," (You fucking bastard) he laughs bitterly, stalking closer to Lando, who was backing away slowly as the Dutch driver got closer.

"How dare you?" Max growls. "Hm? How fucking dare you?" his tone getting louder before he pushes Lando hard. Lando put his hands up in surrender, trying to sputter out apologies.

"I give you my fucking blessing for her, and this? This is how you treat her? Are you fucking serious, Norris?" his voice booms, echoing across the bathroom walls. He pushes Lando harshly with every word that leaves his mouth.

"Max, look. I was upset with the race, I didn't-"

"I don't give a fuck if it's about the DNF. I wouldn't give a fuck if you got a disqualification penalty! You don't fucking treat her like she's some fucking scum on the bottom of your shoe!" he screams, giving one final hard push to Lando's chest, the thump of his back meeting the marble walls behind him echoing loudly.

"I didn't mean it, I just was frustrated-"

"Jouw gevoelens kunnen mij niks schelen, Norris!" (I don't care about your fucking feelings, Norris!) Max yells back bitterly, his hands slamming against the wall right next to Lando's head. Lando clenched his jaw, holding himself back as he let Max scream at him. He deserved that. He deserved a lot worse if he were honest.

Before he can even put another hand on Lando, Lewis and Oscar scurry inside, grabbing Max by his shoulders to pull him away from Lando.

"Let's not do this," Lewis says to Max as the Dutch fights his hold. He points at Lando.

"You realize you made her cry, Lando? She rarely does, and you made tears fall from her eyes!"

Lando felt his heart clench, his stomach dropping as he remembered the tears glossing over her eyes. "I didn't mean-"

"I held her there, as she sobbed in my arms. Sobbed! Saying she felt like an inconvenience, like she suffocates people. What did you fucking say to her?"

Lando couldn't get the words out, but Max already knew in that moment. His eyes widened, seeing that just by Lando's face alone, it really was all true. He said she was suffocating. Clingy. Lando said her touch was too much. Max scoffs bitterly, rolling his eyes.

"You're fucking dead to me, Norris," he spat, letting Lewis guide him out of the bathroom. "Verdomd dood!" (Fucking dead!) he yells back once more before leaving with Lewis.

Oscar has his arms crossed, turning back to face Lando, who just stands there in shock. "Mate, what did you do?" he asks in a knowing tone, more so making it sound like a rhetorical question.

Lando lets out a strangled sob as he begins to rub his face, sliding down against the wall. "I fucked up is what I did."

"He's going to have your head," he tuts, walking over to his friend and extending a hand. "Literally and figuratively. He's going to kill you next race."

Lando shook his head, keeping his stare over at the door, waiting for Max to come barging back in. "He's gonna kill me before we even make it to practice day."

Once Oscar had helped Lando clean himself up, looking more presentable, they left the men's room.

They made it to the table, seeing Max's spot was still empty, Lando felt his insides churn. Waiting for Max to pop up behind him somehwere.

"Where's Max?" Oscar asked as they sat down.

Lewis answers this time. "He left," he admits. "He said he'd rather be taking care of Y/N than be here. Said if he stayed any longer, he was going to throw something at Lando or drag him out by his ear."

Lando let out a groan, letting his head fall onto the table with a thud.

"Mate, what the actual fuck did you do to piss him off so badly?" Charles asked across the table. Lando just shook his head.

"He made Y/N cry from my understanding," Lewis reveals, causing every single head at the table to turn to Lando.

"What did you do? She never cries," George spoke up, a frown on his face. Most of the guys agreeing, being just as confused as Russell was.

Oscar spoke up this time, pursing his lips. "He let his anger out on her. Said she's suffocating and clingy basically."

"Oscar!" Lando seethes, snapping his head over at his teammate, a glare on his face. Oscar shrugged while sipping his drink, all the guys exchanging whispers and groans at Lando.

"Mate, you fucked up. Bad," Oscar says, not backing down.

"You're absolute toast."

"Max is going to have your head on a stick."

"I'm shocked he didn't drag you out already."

"Mate, you're in deep shit. Max doesn't play when it comes to her."

Lando groans before raising his hands to stop them from commenting more.

"I know. Guys, I know!" he snaps, making them all go quiet. "I just- I let my anger get hold of my emotions at the wrong time. I regret it with everything in me. I do."

"You don't realize how bad that is. You're lucky he let you even get a chance to be with her. His possessive ass," Lewis scoffs more to himself as he shook his head, sipping on his drink. The entire table looks his way, Lando frowning at his words.

"What's supposed to mean?" Lando sputters, feeling offended by Hamilton's words.

Lewis set his drink down, crossing his arms over the table while leaning towards Lando's direction.

"It means he doesn't share," he admits. "Not Y/N at least."

Lando feels his heart drop to his ass.

No. There was no way. He would've known.

Lando tilts his head, eyes squinting knowingly. He shook his head. "No. He's not, there's no way."

George cuts in, eyebrows furrowing. "What am I missing?"

Lewis leans back in his chair. "Max has been in love with Y/N for years," He says, reaching for his drink once more. Everyone at the table stays silent. It was so quiet you could hear a pin drop.

"When she told him she wanted to be with you, he wanted her to be happy. After everything she helped him through growing up, she was his escape. Especially when his dad was harsh on him. He vowed to always make sure she was happy. He knew you could give her that, but he fought himself a lot with going against it."

Lando feels his insides caving as Lewis reveals every word. "He saw how happy you made her. That's all he ever wants for her, even if it's not him," he chuckles, seeing Lando's face. "He did say if it didn't work out between you two, that he would make that move."

Lando leans back in his seat with a groan, head falling back while he rubs his face out of stress, curses leaving his lips.

"So, if you thought you had any chance to win her back, Max is going to try and beat you to it. You probably have lost your chance," Lewis points out, sipping on his drink.

"And if we know anything about Max." George trails off.

"He never loses. Especially when it's something he wants."

⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖⋆⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖⋆⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖⋆⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖⋆⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖⋆

It was the next morning. Clouds covered the sky as it cried.

Max sat with his back against the headboard of his bed, hearing the door open from the bathroom. Y/N just finishing up a shower.

She hadn't really slept. When she would finally hit a deeper level of slumber, she would jolt up crying.

She didn't even let Max get close to her, not wanting to be touched, which was a new thing she was doing. Max hated it. He hated that she felt as if her needing and wanting touch to calm down was too much.

So he would sit there, feeling helpless, as she just held herself.

He had snuck down the hallway earlier that morning while she was somewhat asleep, packing up all of her things that were in her hotel room, bringing them up to his own. Knowing full well she'd end up doing that in the morning anyway.

She hated being alone when she was hurting. It was rare, but when it happened, Max was always there. He could always pick up on it.

He straightens up slightly when she walks around the corner, donning a pair of her sweats and one of his Redbull t-shirts. Deciding to stick with comfier pair of clothes for the flight back home.

Max had declined going to the F1 premiere, wanting to focus on Y/N as well as just not liking the idea of being stuck in New York around the press. Or having to keep things professional with Lando when he wanted to run him over with his car.

"You all packed up?" he asks softly, watching her nod.

He doesn't miss the way her face was blotched and puffy again, signaling she had cried a bit more while in the bathroom.

"Schat," he trails off in a sadder tone, getting up from his bed to walk to her. Y/N backs away from Max, shaking her head. "Please," she croaks. "Just don't touch me. Not right now."

Max stops in his tracks, feeling his heart hurt at her words. He nods reluctantly, deciding instead to busy himself with gathering both of their bags. His gaze going to see outside by the entry, seeing some fans and paps already waiting by the cars.

"They're lining up outside," he says slowly, handing her a hoodie to throw over her head. She says nothing, only sniffling as she puts it on.

The pair don't say anything more as they finished grabbing their things, leaving the hotel room to head downstairs.

Max would usually stop to take a few photos with the fans that stood outside, but he was only keeping his mind on getting Y/N past the crowd.

The security guards held the front door open as they saw Max and Y/N making their way outside, another guard going over to open the car door.

Max makes his way in front of her to shield the other side from seeing her, keeping his gaze on her figure. Y/N didn't hesitate to scurry into the car, Max pressing a hand softly on her back to help her up into the car. The man ignored the calls and pleas of his name before stepping inside the car behind her.

The door shuts behind the guard who climbs in after Max, soon being driven off towards the airport.

It was quiet the entire way there, Max keeping a close but safe distance from her in the shared backseat. He doesn't miss how her phone buzzes, seeing her peer down at it only to double-click the home button to decline it.

Lando had been blowing up her phone since the night before. Especially after Max had left, her phone wouldn't stop buzzing.

Y/N declined every call, putting his messages on Do Not Disturb. The more she sat with what he had said to her, the more it made her think back to every time he made a face when she would touch him.

She didn't know how long he felt that way with her, Y/N letting her mind overthink to the point it made her feel sick.

It wasn't good for her, and she knew that. She couldn't help it. Not when she had given herself fully to Lando in every way. Thinking he was it for her. That he was all she wanted. She was all he wanted. So she thought.

Max watched as she began to pinch at the skin on her wrists, something she did when her mind wouldn't stop running.

"Genoeg lieverd. Je zult je huid weer beschadigen," (Enough, darling. You'll damage the skin again) he says softly to her. She doesn't acknowledge his words, only pinching harder to try and stop her mind.

Max didn't hesitate in the next few moments, not caring if she yelled or glared at him as he touched her. He reached over to grab her hands, holding onto them. She snaps her gaze away from the window with a frown.

He looks at her. "If you're going to pinch skin, pinch mine. Not yours," he instructs. Y/N doesn't see anything but assurance in his eyes, Max nodding slowly with a hum. "You can't hurt me. You never could."

Y/N bites her lip before nodding. Max has her lean into his body as she begins to fidget again. But this time, with his own hands.

Max lets his head fall onto her own, watching her whole body, for the first time in the last day, soften. The more she fidgeted, seeing how it didn't hurt or affect him in any way, the more it relaxed her mind. She didn't know why.

It brought her a calming sensation, feeling Max's touch against her own body, and it made her whole body begin to relax.

Once they had arrived at the airport, Max didn't release her hands once. He kept his hands laced with her own. He only removed them once to adjust his hold, having her walk behind him as he made her lace her hands with his behind his back. They stayed that way as they walked up into the jet.

Max helped her set her backpack down on one of the cushioned chairs, and that was the time he released her hands.

He thanked the flight attendant crew as they loaded their things onto the jet, then exchanged a few words with his security guard and publicist.

Y/N stood there with an exhausted look in her eyes, just wanting to finally sleep. Let her mind and her body rest.

Once Max was done talking to them, he made his way over towards her figure. He didn't say anything, only guiding her to the back of the private jet. Y/N followed him slowly, Max opening the door to the small bedroom.

A bed in the corner, a TV sitting in front of it, while there was a recliner chair embedded into the floor on the other side of the room with a table in front of it.

This was usually where Max disappeared to when they had long flights, knowing he tried sleeping whenever he could get the chance.

He shut the door behind her softly before crawling into bed and getting comfy. Max turns back to her, seeing her stand there looking absolutely defeated.

"Come on," he assures, motioning for her to come lie down. Y/N shrugs. "I don't want to take up your space."

Max gives her a knowing look, clenching his jaw. "You could never. You know that," he says, his tone more stern. "Lay down."

Instead of her prying and arguing more, knowing she wouldn't win it, she doesn't fight it, not having anything left in that moment. Y/N cautiously goes to climb in, keeping her distance as best as she can. Giving him his space.

Max notices her actions, immediately ignoring the eyeroll he wanted to do, and wraps his arms around her waist to pull her back towards his figure.

She lets out a low squeak at his actions, and Max turns her to lie against him. He doesn't miss the way her body instantly caves into his side, him helping her lie her head on his chest as he laces their hands together in case she begins to pinch and pick at her skin again.

"Je hoeft je geen zorgen te maken, ik heb je lieverd," (You don't have to worry, I got you darling) he mumbles against her temple. He hears her sigh, the way he knows she is fighting with her body in her head. The way she tries to tense, but her body craves every touch that's being given to her. "Sleep."

That's all he has to mutter to her before her eyes finally begin to close, the closeness of another one's body heat lulling her into a deeper slumber.

Max kisses her head, letting his thumb caress the top of her hand as he feels the tenseness in her body falter away. He kisses her head once more.

"I've got you."

⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖⋆⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖⋆⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖⋆⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖⋆⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖⋆

A/N: Me after pressing "Post now"

Sooooooo hehe.... That got away from me, and I'm not sorry. Lando is a dumbass as we know. Are we loving a protective Max? How're we feeling overall, friends? Vote below. I love you guys <3, I'll see you soon ;)

Permanent taglist : (Please message me if you'd like to be removed!!!)

@nickie-amore , @tylerstacobell , @piceous21 , @ariesandwolves , @lifeonawhim , @formulawhore , @asterooidsblog , @staple-your-mouth , @sinfully-yoursss , @smileyshaven , @midnightsaugust , @astrlape , @relijanka , @jooooooooo-cycycy16 , @cherryhazee , @nina481 , @lighttsoutlewis , @suns3treading , @areej003 , @dramallama9 , @putherup , @green--beanie , @footyball , @callsign-mirage , @kearasaltynalapepper , @idkwahr , @teti-menchon0604 , @footyball , @avengersgirllorianna , @4norrislove , @boocmarks , @evilive , @gulphulp , @hopeless--romamtic , @f1fantasys , @ccupidbow , @ini3103 , @vinylphwoar , @ernegren , @mel164 , @lemon-stvrrr , @behindmygreyeyes , @sillyfreakfanparty , @flowersandalll , @paankhaleyaaar , @ushygushybaby , @lifeonawhim , @themasqueradereveler13 , @vdkah8ter , @p1astrizz , @rickybobbydan , @sparklepiastri

#lando norris x reader #lando norris imagine #lando norris #lando x reader #ln4 #lando imagine #lando norris fanfic #lando imagines #lando norris fluff #lando norris angst #ln4 imagine #ln4 fic #f1 x reader #f1 imagine #rosieswxrld #max verstappen #max vertsappen fic #max verstappen x reader

1K notes · View notes

fl04tingcl0uds · 5 months ago

Note

“Just admire them Athena.. they love the hats..”

“Look Athena! :3c”

What have you done to Serpens???(serpens is the name of one of her owlets)

#athena rp #epic the musical rp #epic the musical #the mentor #quick thought #the one whom floats!~☁️#twisting and turing—let’s play a game!~🌀#let’s play a game!~💙#keep your friends close!~ 🩵

13 notes · View notes

neeeooon · 5 months ago

Note

Hello!! May I request, where the reader traces the bllk chars' (Sae, Kaiser, Nagi, Reo, Rin) veiny hands without even noticing it, and they will have this reaction, either curious, shocked, or something? They either be in a relationship or just friends.

Thank you!! I hope you understand my grammar, English is not my first language. This is my first request, I really love your stories!!

thank you for the request!! and your grammar is great! 🩵

when you trace their hand veins

new relationship/friend bllk x clueless!reader. slightly suggestive in sae’s, reo’s, rin’s

itoshi sae

-> your relationship with sae was strictly platonic. yet you despised the thought of going on a date or spending time with someone who wasn’t him, and you had an inkling that he felt the same way about you

-> you’re cooking dinner together and chatting about your days. per routine, you’re in your normal spots: you at the stove, sae leaning against the counters to your left as he preps the food

-> he finished earlier than you, hands resting on the edge of the countertop. while waiting for the water to finish boiling, your hand mindlessly drifts over his arm, tracing the bulging veins from the way he’s leaning

-> your best friend is anything but subtle. “keep touching me like that, i’ll think you wanna be more than just my friend, y/n.” his words startle you at first, but when you look up and catch the way his eyes are deeply trained on you, you can’t help but step closer. “and be what instead, hm?”

michael kaiser

-> kaiser is always telling you how he hates the feel of hands on his skin, and you’ve seen how he flinches away from touch. however, he never complains or moves away when you curl into his side during movie nights

-> you only just started going out, so you’re surprised that he has so much patience and seems so comfortable with you. he told you in the past that you have a calm and inviting energy about you, but you don’t really know why

-> you’re watching an indie film, cuddled into his side without touching his skin too much, when your fingertips graze against his forearm. you don’t think anything of it, too immersed in the film, but kaiser feels your touch everywhere. and he doesn’t pull away

-> when kaiser flips your hand to clasp it and tightly intertwine your fingers, you finally realize what you were doing. “i’m sorry! i didn’t—“ “keep holding my hand..?” at the softness in his ask, they’d have to pry your dead body away to separate you from him

nagi seishiro

-> you and nagi were barely friends, but besides reo, you’re the only person who ever makes an effort to talk to him. his responses are usually short, but he always looks at you as you ramble about your day or a book you’re reading or what you ate for lunch

-> your class is traveling together for a field trip, and you decide to sit next to nagi on the bus. anxious about the trip, you find yourself subconsciously tracing the veins on nagi’s hand, which is pressed on the seat beside your thigh

-> he never says anything, so it takes a while for you to realize what you’re doing. once you do, you panic. “oh gosh, i’m sorry, nagi! that was super creepy of me, i swear i wasn’t doing that on purpose!” “‘s’okay. i don’t mind.”

mikage reo

-> you were waiting at his desk with your textbooks to study when reo returned from the gym. “oh, hey y/n! i forgot we were studying today.” “uh, yeah..!” you couldn’t pull your eyes from his arms if you wanted to. “gimme a sec to shower, and i’ll be right back!”

-> reo’s arms are still angry when he returns, making you feel all sorts of ways for your friend. sure, you’d been “talking” for a little while, but he was still only a friend

-> you’re seated close, forearms practically touching, as reo teaches you about business statistics. you’d never been as focused on market equations as you were with purple hair tickling your shoulder and cheek

-> “um, y/n?” “hm?” you pull your thoughts from how pretty reo is to follow his gaze, which is set on his arm. your fingers on his arm. tracing his veins. you nearly fall out of your chair with how fast you yank your hand away. “i’m sorry! how long was i doing that?!” “maybe fifteen min—“ “sorry, got to go! good night, reo!”

itoshi rin

-> you were curled up on the couch beside your childhood and longest best friend rin, dozing off while watching cartoons with him

-> trying to stay awake, you decided to fidget with your hands, which turned into fidgeting with his hand

-> you’re half asleep and unsure what’s happening. rin can’t turn his head in your direction because he’s afraid you’ll see how warm his face is

-> “pretty arms,” you mumble sleepily when you realize what you’re doing. rin only nods in response, praying you fall asleep before you realize the effect your touch has on your friend

1K notes · View notes

scarletlizzard · 1 year ago

Text

Inked Desires

Pairing: g!p Natasha x fem! Reader

Tags Minors DNI: smut, Natasha has a dick, also covered in tattoos w/ piercings, buff out of this world, she's hot okay, cunnilingus, handjobish, unprotected sex, breeding yup, alcohol at the beginning

A/N: I'm cheating and putting these two requests together, oops! This is my first time writing something like this, so please be gentle. Also, would really love some feedback on this so I know for the future to either write more like this or just tell me to stop now. Thanks so much for reading and thanks for the requests!! 🩵

Masterlist

~~~

"Here, take this!" Your friend says over the loud music, handing you another cup half filled with a mixture of liquor.

You don't question her and take the cup from her, drinking it down in only two gulps. Kate laughs and cheers as you do, doing the same with the cup she held.

By now, you were a few drinks in, and the house Kate had dragged you to was full of people. This definitely wasn't your type of scene, but as you danced among the bodies in the lowlit living room, you couldn't help but feel grateful she had.

As your hips move against your friend, she leans over to your ear. "She's staring at you again," Kate laughs, and your eyes move to the corner of the room.

There was the stranger of the night, a tall woman who stood out, whose green eyes had been watching your every move since you walked in the door. Her muscular arms were covered with art of all kinds, disappearing up into the sleeves of her shirt. She brought her red cup to her lips again, her face mostly hidden from the light.

Instead of replying, you only continue to dance, this time keeping eye contact with your stranger. The woman watches as your hips sway, your hands traveling your own body as you move to the music. It doesn't take long after that before she's finally striding across the room, standing a head taller than most of the crowd.

When she reaches you, you can finally see the rest of her gorgeous face. Above her sprightly green eyes, you noticed a piercing on her eyebrow, a few on her nose, and one on the bottom lip of the smirk she gave you. As she stands in front of you, you literally have to look up at her, and you realize she was much more toned up close.

"I'm just gonna grab another drink!" Kate raises her voice above the music for the two of you to hear.

"I'll catch up with you later!" You shout back to which she only laughs and shoots you a "Yeah, right," before walking off.

You turn your attention back to the stranger.

"Hi," she smiles.

"Hi," you reply curiously.

"I haven't seen you here before. What's your name?" She asks. Her eyes shamelessly roam the soft features of your face and the curves of your body.

"Y/N... this is my first time here. What's yours?" You ask with a blush on your cheeks. She tucks back her red hair behind one of her ears, revealing to you even more piercings.

You don't know if it's the alcohol or the feeling the stranger ignited in your chest, but you feel compelled to step forward and rest your hand on her muscular bicep. Your finger traces the tattoos that littered the skin there.

"Natasha," she says with a smile. "Wanna go upstairs?" A cock of her eyebrow with the piercing sticking out is enough to get you wet.

***

As soon as the door closes, the two of you are on each other, kissing feverishly. Her hands are under your shirt, touching your skin as she lifts you against the door. Your legs wrap around her hips, and you smile against her lips at how easily she lifted you. She was strong. You could feel her muscles under her tight shirt, squeezing you impossibly close.

But when her tongue slips past your lips, you gasp and pull away, a string of saliva pulling between your mouths.

"What's wrong? Do you need to stop?" She asks with a concerned expression. You look at her with wide eyes.

"No - no, I'm fine, it's just. Is your tongue...?" You didn't know how to ask. She chuckles and ducks her head before looking back at you. Natasha lets her tongue slide across her top lip, and it's then your suspicions are confirmed.

"Split, and yes... it will feel better," Natasha says in a cocky tone, her lips attaching to your neck as she carries you to the bed. You feel your back hit the soft mattress, and she lets go of you to remove your shirt.

"I want to see them all," you breathe out and run your finger over the skin on her arm. She smiles and pulls back, taking off her shirt to reveal she was completely covered. "They're beautiful..." You let your eyes take in the sight of the art, your hands tracing the dark lines and over the grooves of her abs. Natasha is a God.

As she continues to undress you, she kisses as much skin as she can, her lips soft and wet with every touch. When she gets to your breasts, you feel her tongue spread, taking your nipple between the two halves and sucking it.

"Oh- oh fuck," you moan out, suprised at the unfamiliar feeling and how good it felt. Natasha hums and lays you back, kissing down your stomach. When she spreads your legs she looks at you with hungry eyes, seeing how wet you already were.

"All this for me, baby?" She asks, letting a finger move up and down your wet folds. Your body shivers with anticipation. The way she looked at you, the way she looked, you were willing to let this stranger do absolutely anything to you.

"All for you.." You husk back, watching her split tongue wet her lips again.

Natasha kneels down at the edge of the bed and puts your legs over her shoulders, her hands grip your thighs tightly.

"How fucking lucky am I then?" She smirks up at you before placing soft, teasing kisses on your thighs.

You feel her mouth attach to your clit, and the heat in your stomach burns hotter. She licks up your slit, groaning as she tastes you.

"Fuck you taste so good," Natasha moans and let's her tongue lick up to your clit. She let's the two halves spread and rub against you. The new feeling makes you arch your back, your head thrown against the comforter.

"G-God Nat, that feels so good!" You moan and try to squeeze your thighs, but her grip kept your legs spread as she continued to eat you out. The sounds of her mouth against your wet pussy were the most sinful sounds you had ever heard, and the moans leaving your mouth were sounds nobody had ever elicited from you before.

She groans against you, the vibrations causing even more pleasure. "That's it baby," she says in between licks, "Want you to cum all over my face." Natashas tongue moves in two different ways, the coil in your lower stomach twisting up.

Your hands grip the comforter as she moves quicker, and the coil begins to unravel as you come undone

"Fuck, fuck, fuck," your back arches again and your legs tremble around her head as you let out a pornographic moan. Natasha hums agaisnt you as you come, her hands not flinching to hold your thighs apart.

She licks every drop, her tongue swirling around your sensative clit one more time before she lets go and stands up. "Come here," Natasha commands, and with a dizzy mind you sit up, trying to catch your breath. She bends down to take your jaw, kissing you rough and sloppily. You forces you to taste yourself, and her tongue pushes in your mouth, wrapping around your own tongue.

You can smell your own arousal on her face, feeling it wet your nose and lips. You blush, almost embarrassed with how wet this stranger made you.

"Now lets see how well you can ride my cock," Natasha chuckles and pulls back to remove her remaining clothes. Your eyes are settled on her breasts, unable to remove them from the piercings on her nipples. When you can pull yourself away from the sight of the silver metal against pink, you look down to see her remove her underwear. She was hard, painfully hard just from eating you out.

She tosses the boxers in the corner where other random clothes lay, and you gave her a curious look. "It's my room, don't worry. Didn't even know you were in my house, did you, love?" Natasha strides back to the bed and sits with her back against the headboard, pulling you closer to her.

"No, I didn't. I'm sorry... my friend kind of dragged me out tonight," you say with red cheeks, and she kisses you desperately.

"Thank God she did," Nat mumbles against your lips. She lets out a groan as your hand reaches between the two of you to lightly grip her cock, and you could feel how she was already throbbing for you. You begin to move your hand up and down slowly as the kiss turns sloppy, her tongue sliding yours between hers. Natasha revels in the feeling of her in your soft hand, your delicate fingers moving along the veins of erection.

"Shit - that feels so good," she moans into the kiss as your hand movements speed up. Your thumb swipes across the tip, precum dripping out already. You smile at the low moan that leaves her lips and continue to jerk her as you kiss. "I need you, please. Fuck I need to be inside you," she begs, and the sound of her begging was something you wanted to hear again. You take her lower lip between your teeth, sucking on the piercing before letting go with a 'pop'.

"I wanna ride you so bad, Nat.. I'm so wet for you," you whisper and let your kisses trail down to her sharp jaw. You feel her cock twitch in your hand as you speak and she grabs your wrist to stop your hand movements, panting as she does.

Natasha turns you around quickly, groaning at the sight of your ass as you straddle her lap and let her hands guide you onto her thick cock. You slide down slowly, letting out a moan when you feel her filling you up.

"Just relax baby, you're so fucking tight," she mumbles as she watches herself slowly disappear inside of you. She let's out a low moan as she feels your hot cunt swallow her, the back of head hitting the headboard when she feels your walls squeezing her. The feeling alone was enough for her mind to sever ties with reality, the only thought was you.

The sensation has that coil tightening inside of you again. You rest your hands on her toned thighs for support, relishing in the way her muscles flexed underneath your fingertips.

Natashas' hands continue to guide you, and after you had adjusted to her large size, you begin to grind yourself down on her lap.

"Just like that baby, fuck... feel so fucking good wrapped around my cock. You were just made to take me," she groans, her words only driving you to move your hips faster.

Her large hands move to your sides and up your body, groping your skin as she starts to move her hips up to meet yours. The two of you find a rythem together, and soon you find yourself willingly bouncing on her cock. Her hands moved to gather your hair, wrapping it into a fist in her right hand. She tugs on it and pulls your head back, a loud moan leaves your lips at the feeling.

"You like it when I'm rough with you, don't you?" She smirks, tugging your hair again.

"Yes - god, yes, Nat!" You whine as her lips find your neck. She bites down hard on your pulse point, surely leaving a mark, and leaves hot open-mouthed kisses along your skin.

"I know you do, you little slut. Fucking dripping on my cock. You feel how easy I slide in and out of you?" She says and with her left hand she grabs your jaw. "Answer me."

"I'm so wet, you make me so wet," you whine again, feeling her fingers move between your teeth. You suck hard as you look in her eyes, your tongue swirling around spit dripping down your chin. When you bite down, it surprises her, but she only chuckles darkly.

In a second, Natasha had let go of your hair and pushed you down face first onto the mattress. You gasp at the sudden emptiness, but soon after, she's lifting your hips and sliding into you again. Both of you moan at the feeling of how deep she goes.

"Christ, it doesn't matter how long I fuck you. You're just - so - fucking tight," she grunts in between words, her cock drilling you into oblivion. With every thrust you can hear the bedframe hitting the wall, and you can't help the pitiful noises that leave your mouth.

"Fuck I'm gonna cum," You rasp out. A sharp slap on your ass makes you whimper as you feel it begin to sting.

"No, shit, hold it in," Natasha warns. You feel the pressure of her body move on top of you. The piercings on her breasts rub against your back with each powerful thrust, and her arm moves underneath your neck to hold you tightly.

Natasha grunts in your ear as she pounds into you, letting out a moan when she feels your slick cunt tighten around her length. "I'm almost there, baby. Are you gonna be a good girl and come all over my cock?"

You nod the best you can in her tight grip, only able to get out a "Yes," in between gasps.

"You feel so good, Y/N. You want me to cum inside you? Fuck- I wanna fill up your tight little pussy so bad..." She groans against you and her words send you over the edge.

"Oh god, Nat! Please fill me up, please," you beg her, and just the thought of it is enough to let go. Your orgasm ripples through your body, sending shockwaves of pleasure to your core.

Natasha moans loudly as she feels you coating her cock with your cum, and she can no longer hold back. "Fuck- Y/N!" She groans and you whine as you feel her hot load spurting inside of you, her cock twitching as she slows her movements. "Take every.. last.. drop.." She pants as she thrusts a few more times.

The two of you stay like that for a while, her cock inside you as she stills above you. Your head rests against her arm as you attempt to catch your breath. When she removes herself slowly, and you wince at the soreness and empty feeling. Natasha lays next to you and you turn on your side to face her.

"Hi," she chuckles at the exhausted features on your face.

"You just fucked the life out of me and you're going to say... 'hi' ?" You laugh, suprised to see a blush on the strong womans cheeks as she laughs along with you. Your hand reaches out, resting on her stomach and tracing the lines of her tattoos again.

After the two of you clean yourselves up, you begin to dress yourself, feeling her eyes on you as you pull your shirt over your head.

"You don't have to go, you know. I'm not like that," she says gently, and you look up to see her pulling on a pair of jeans. You smile at her kind demeanor and walk over to her.

"I have to take my friend home," you say and lean up on your toes to kiss her cheek. She has to bend down for you to reach her lips, but she doesn't complain.

"Well, maybe I can take you out sometime," Natasha smirks and rests her hands on your waist. You nod as you look up to her.

"I would love that.." You reply honestly, wanting nothing more than to get to know her and count the endless tattoos that cover her body.

#marvel #natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff x reader #natasha x you #natasha x reader #g!p natasha #g!p natasha x reader #natasha x fem!reader #buff natasha

4K notes · View notes

hannieween · 10 months ago

Text

ladies' night | wicked games series | k.mg

Kim Mingyu came into your life at a time when you needed a friend the most. And that he was: a friend that you could confide in and laugh together, share your secrets with and perhaps, share a burden that was too similar to his.

☆ pairings: kim mingyu x female reader ☆ genre: angst, smut [18+] ☆ aus: bartender mingyu, friends to rebound fucking, fwb to lovers (attempt at a slow burn) ☆ word count: 16k

› read more

› warnings under the cut

☆ warnings: alcohol consumption, smut with plot, sub mingyu, soft dom reader, pussy drunk mingyu, manhandling, mingyu is low key a simp, reader is so down bad for him it is embarrassing, reader is on birth control, both mingyu and reader are lowkey toxic, size kink, big dick mingyu, use of sex toys, squirting, masturbation, foul language, dirty talking, lots of making out, reader has a bit of difficulty reaching her high, a bit of dry humping, oral sex (f. receiving), body worshipping, cowgirl, edging, unprotected p in v sex, creampies, aftercare. pet names: baby, shorty, pretty, (hers)

☆ acknowledgements: first things first! big thanks to @nonuify who suggested the title for the series! thanks to @onlymingyus who suggested a cute pet name for reader (that is, sugar which will come in the future), @miniseokminnies, @bitchlessdino and @wonustars for helping brainstorming for ideas hehe ty ty 🩵

also thanks to vee and @wooahaeproductions who helped me proofread this 🩵

☆ author's note: helloooooo! welcome to the hannieverse! where every single fic i've written is connected somehow! this series is closely connected to heartbreaker. though i don't think it is necessary to read that one in order to read this one here, but if you haven't read that one yet, be my guest hehe

☆ author's note 2: we have another reader self-insert!! i wish i could start self-inserting the things that are actually nice about my life... and not angst, bad sleeping habits and heartbreak (┬┬﹏┬┬) anyway, i hope you all enjoy this one

☆ disclaimer: minors DO NOT INTERACT. this post is intended for 18+ readers. please have your age stated in your description and try not to look like a bot please or i will block you.

ladies' night

Lately, work had become your second home.

Not by choice, no. It was a thing that you forced into your life to keep yourself busy. Running a business was not easy, but you had reached a point in your life where you no longer needed to work 16 hours a day. Now, you felt like you needed to be working all day long. Or else, you would go insane.

Routine. You swore by it. Wake up, get ready, go to work, traffic, clock off, more traffic, come back home, sleep, repeat.

You could make time for yourself. But there was nothing else to dedicate your time to.

Coming back to a half-packed apartment was quite discouraging. Boxes piled up. The furniture you worked so hard to buy, gone, sold. You did not even bother to turn on the light, you had memorized your way through the maze of cardboard boxes.

Maybe I should get a dog.

The keys hanging from your fingers jingled as you reached your bedroom, tossing them on the nightstand to begin undressing yourself and getting ready to sleep.

There was a row of neatly folded clothes occupying one side of the bed, clothes that were ready to be packed away. Or donated. Whatever you wanted to do the following day.

You finished peeling off the last piece of clothing from your body, neatly disposing of it in the hamper, and dragged yourself to do your nightly skincare routine.

The biggest, and probably recurring challenge you had to get through was going to sleep. You faced your bed, half covered by small towers of folded clothes making you feel a deafening agony that you could not get rid of.

You set your phone on the side table before commanding yourself to sit on the bed, your back to the piles of clothes. You had to purposefully ignore your phone before going to bed if you wanted to get an interrupted sleep.

Lying on your pillow, you stared at the ceiling, your arms sticking to your torso, fingers curled on the bedcovers. The part you dreaded the most.

You closed your eyes, avoiding every thought completely. It was a difficult feat, it was impossible.

Slowly, and tentatively, you slid a hand beneath the bed sheets, reaching out to your side, feeling the weight of the piles of clothes pressing down on your arm. The side of the bed would remain empty, and you never dared to sleep on that side.

The side where your former partner used to sleep.

A part of you itched to grab your phone. What was the point, you concluded, retreating your hand and sticking it to your body again. There was no point in trying to reimagine a life in which you had not asked your ex to leave. There was no point in wanting someone that left you feeling so empty.

Maybe I should sell the bed too.

You stared at the ceiling once again, your gaze outlining the four margins of the bedroom. Whenever the night got bad, you would do this, over and over, until everything faded to black Until you fell asleep.

You woke up before your alarm went off.

It took you some moments to realize that you did not have to go to work that day. A heavy reluctance fell upon you, making it harder to drag yourself out of the bed you were planning to sell the night before.

You brushed the thought off. Okay.

You were okay. You were going to be even better.

The morning was bleak, the pale light making you squint your eyes as soon as you drew the blinds up. But you started working at once. The first task was putting the clothes in boxes, emptying space on the bed.

You wasted no time, removing the covers and the bed sheets without much thought. You did not want to think that even though you washed the pillowcases, you could still smell your ex's cologne in them. You did not want to think back to the time you bought the bed sheets with him when you moved in together.

It was too late.

Crushed, you closed the moving boxes, moving them into neat piles. The silence was nearly deafening.

You sat on the bed and waited.

The doorbell rang. People came in and stuffed a van full of all of the boxes and the bed. When it was time to go, you took one look at the place you swore you would live with the love of your life for a long while and closed the door behind you.

Three months later.

Your old routine started to tear you down. A silent killer, slowly destroying bits and pieces of your already fragile state. You were too slow or too ignorant to see it, but in protecting your precious routine, you were destroying yourself.

First, it was your sleep. Then, it was your closest friendships. Then, you could no longer pay attention at work. You were tired, and alone.

Enough is enough, you told yourself sternly.

You decided to do new things. Explore a bit more, distract yourself, pamper yourself. Watch a new show someone recommended to you ages ago, or actually read one of the books you bought and forgot.

Living in a new part of town should not be this challenging.

You knew every single corner of the neighborhood, yet you knew no one. And living in a city so vast and so populated demanded you to do activities in the company of someone.

Part of running your own business meant that you could manage your own time. That you did, shaving some hours off of your heavy and self-inflicted work schedule and taking some time for yourself.

The first thing you did was go shopping since it could be one activity you could do by yourself. And it was distracting. You went back home, and read that book.

Maybe I could put on this show while I unpack.

Some things were still kept in boxes from when you moved into the new apartment. Mainly those with stuff you did not require immediately. Clutter. Mostly bought by you to make your other apartment feel more lived in.

Time went by and you finished watching that show. You finished reading through the pile of books you got ages ago. You bought new clothes, and got rid of those that once occupied your ex's side of the bed.

You were slowly becoming someone else.

Waking up to a new reality happens in an instant. In the middle of the day. In the middle of traffic. It is realizing that in the past you is no longer present, and you need to become someone else to fit into that reality.

At least, that was how it felt.

The red light turned green, and you pushed yourself through the traffic slowly. Maybe I should sell the car. You turned left, driving past the badly lit gym that stood on the corner, its uninviting neon purple and red lights outside.

Abruptly, you pulled up. Grabbing your purse, getting out of your car and meekly pushed open the door to the place. The myriads of different noises startled you at first. The very loud speakers mounted on every corner, the clanking of the heavy weights hitting the floor, planks hitting each other, and the occasional loud grunting of men.

The person wearing the staff uniform greeted you. The young man, though seemingly your age, looked at you up and down with bright doe eyes.

“Hi,” he nodded politely, showing you a smile adorned by a couple of ring piercings. “Welcome! How can I help you?”

The question seemed to drive a dry joke in your mind, but you paid no attention to it. “I want to register.”

His expression broke in a downturned smile, almost as if this were a quick reflex of his. You realized then, you were being quite dry.

“Please,” you added two seconds later.

“Sure,” he smiled, recovering from the awkward exchange without issue. “Follow me.”

The gym was packed, it got hotter the more you entered the place. The guy wearing the staff uniform appeared to be quite the popular person around, waving at gym goers left and right with great attitude.

You thought of mentioning it but, you just kept walking behind him to an office room secluded in one of the corners. He turned on the light and went around the small desk, sitting down on the battered office chair with a heavy sigh.

“Okay, first things first,” he turned on the chair to one side, showing you with his hand to a table pushed to the corner of the office, an old coffee maker huffed as it finished brewing. “Coffee?”

You looked at the coffee machine, and then to him. An eyebrow lifted.

“It's Thursday,” he shrugged. “We serve coffee every Thursday.”

You huffed, a small smile appearing on your face. “And on Fridays?”

“Ah! Do not get ahead of yourself. Maybe we can find that out tomorrow, miss...?” he pushed his eyebrows up, pulled one pen from the pencil case, and clicked it on, ready to fill out a form.

You fought the urge to laugh in his face, the awkwardness from the whole situation making your tummy feel uneasy.

You sat down on the chair, robbing the pen from his tattooed fingers. His doe eyes snapped open in surprise when you pulled the form from under his hand and started filling it out.

“Tell me prices,” you muttered, eyes focused on filling out the form, so you did not get the chance to see him smile when he let out a small breath.

“Well, that didn't go to plan,” he whispered to himself, seemingly.

Cute.

“Has it ever?”

You darted a look at him through your lashes. The guy had his eyes slightly widened, probably not expecting you to strike up a conversation of this type.

“Uh, well, yeah, but,” he stammered, like a deer in the headlights. “Only when I don’t mean it to,” he smiled sheepishly, bringing a hand to scratch the back of his neck.

“Well, then, I suppose that you can give me your name so I can give you mine,” you offered, though amicably. You finished writing on the form, putting the pen down.

“Jungkook,” he nodded his head politely. “Jeon Jungkook, miss.”

You smiled at him and told him your name, pushing the form to him on the desk.

Jungkook read the details you penned on the form intently, his lips softly mouthing each word, and then he turned to the old computer sitting on one side of the desk. But then, he shook his head swiftly. “Shit, yeah. Right,” he hissed. “Prices,” he turned to you.

“You know what,” you blurted, heartbeat racing when you pulled out your card from your purse. “Just sign me up.”

“Okay,” he nodded once again, his smile growing into a more content one, leaving the shyness behind. “Welcome to Casa Pump House,” he announced proudly.

His whole face had lit up, even his eyes seemed to glimmer under the pale overhead lights. The pause that followed told you that he was expecting you to match his energy, to smile, to say something.

A stiff smile stretched the features of your face, you nodded back at him. “Thank you,” you said. However, what he did not know was that the last thing you wanted to get out of your registration to the gym was working out.

You just needed another distraction.

The man stood up at the same time you did. “Let me show you around,” he said, demeanor completely changed. He seemed nervous now.

“Oh, is it okay if we leave that for tomorrow?” you asked, suddenly feeling out of place in your work clothes.

His mouth hung open for a brief moment. “Sure,” he replied. “Of course. Tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow,” you echoed, walking out of his office promptly. “Thank you, Jeon!”

You rushed through the rows of all types of machines. The noise from the heavyweights clashing together, the loud music coming from the overhead speakers, and the noises coming from men, exhaling, grunting, and such had you taking a deep breath when you came out of the place.

The night was cold, slightly damp from the mid-summer breeze. It was a stark difference from the humidity inside Casa Pump House.

You snorted. I should learn to ignore my impulsive thoughts.

You found your car, unlocking the doors. But a flashing thought overwhelmed you even more: having to sit through yet another thirty minutes of traffic, alone with your thoughts.

Turning your back from your car, you locked the doors once again, walking down the street. It could be a Thursday night when your usual would be heading home and sleeping. But the city was very much coming alive with nightlife activities.

People were walking close together, laughing, chatting, or looking at their phones. All of them had somewhere to go, somewhere they were being waited for.

Two girls holding hands walked past you, they were giggling, talking about some innocuous thing, but it caught your attention, they were pretty and looked happy.

They stopped in front of an establishment that was clearly a bar. Namely The Spot, in big neon red letters and pushed inside the place, which was booming with loud music, and the buzzing from the people crowding the place.

Once again, you sighed.

Impulsivities.

You were not exactly a drinker. But as soon as you crossed the door, you realized that the place was the answer to your every prayer. Well, no. Not quite. But close.

The place was dark, only lit by neon signs and low-hanging lamps. A cacophony of various things filled your ears: the sound of music, paired with the chattering of the crowd, the billiards in the distance clashing with everything too.

The good part was that no one paid attention to you. You quietly and inconspicuously slid on one of the high-top chairs at the lacquered bar, being approached by a girl a second later to take your order.

“Can I have a coke, please?” raising your voice over the loud speakers made your heartbeat race. You rarely ever did such a thing lately, it felt weird to do something like that again.

The girl nodded and in seconds, she slid the can of coke and a glass with ice in it in front of you.

You were glad that you were not met with concern when you ordered a coke at a bar. But then you realized that no one cared.

The place was packed with mostly women, you realized as you familiarized yourself with its adorned walls and black and white checkered floors. The bar top held a chalkboard that explained it in neat handwriting: ladies' night, buy one get one free.

“Does it apply for non-alcoholic drinks too?” you asked the girl tending the bar.

She shook her head no. “But this one is on me,” she winked at you in a friendly way, when you sent her a questioning look, she just shrugged: “You look like you need it.”

Then the girl turned and continued working, tending to other orders in the bar quite skillfully. You wondered if you announced your sadness just by walking into the place, and people noticed. Or was it that being alone in a ladies' night instantly meant that you were going through a rough time?

You need new friends.

When you broke up with your ex, you hid from the world that revolved around you as a couple. The friends you shared, the places you used to go with him, the activities you liked doing with him… It all got shoved into a drawer at the back of your mind.

So now, you felt like coming back to life. Essentially, you were finding yourself after the pain of a heartbreak. The reason behind all your most recent life's decisions.

You would never go to bars alone, for instance.

Not that you did not enjoy a drink. You did. Though during the time with your ex-partner, it was a true rarity for you to go out and drink.

So being in a bar, on a Thursday was something you had not done in years.

It was quite overwhelming. The buzzing noise, the loud music, the clanking of glass and billiards, the booming laughter and chattering...

The mood was low, dimly lit in red neon lights, the noise seemed to die down upon laying eyes on the tall man going behind the bar, passing in front of you and blocking the sight of the huge neon red sign that read, HEARTBREAKER. The contrasting light against his tall frame made him alluring, you could not help but stare.

However, your trance was cut short. He might have sensed your eyes glued to him because his zeroed on your face, unsuspecting at first. You realized instead, you know this man, the thought fell heavily in your mind, settling in the pit of your tummy.

The dark eyes glinted with recognition, the corner of his lips rising to uncover the predominant fangs as he smiled politely at you.

Kim Mingyu took one step towards the spot you were sitting in, the smile fading at once as you jumped from your stool, swiftly slipping through the door and out of the bar altogether.

Once out, you released a puffy breath. Did you just run away from Kim Mingyu?

“But did he recognize you?” your best friend from college, Mona, asked. She toyed with the tail of a cherry, dragging it on the foamy surface of her pina colada.

“I don’t know,” you squished your cheek on your palm as you propped your elbow on the table. “I didn’t stick around to find out. I don’t think he did, though.”

“Are you sure about that?” she mused.

“I’ve changed a lot, Mona,” you explained, though pointlessly since your best friend already knew what you meant. “I’m not the same kid I was when I was seventeen.”

“True. So why did you run?” she asked, blowing a puffy air up her fringe to keep it off her long eyelashes.

“It was some sort of impulse,” you tried to explain but the truth was, you did not even know the answer to that question. Hence why you resorted to call in for a meeting with the person that knew you the most.

Though it was not a meeting. You had already set a date for you to meet with your best friend long before you found out that Kim Mingyu worked at the bar around the corner of your apartment.

It had been long since you saw your best friend, partly because you kept coming up with excuses to not meet with her.

“I think,” he started, now popping the cherry in her mouth. “That you have been so buried in your own shit that you’ve started to forget how to socialize.”

You coughed up a chuckle. “Right,” you said dismissively. “And what is your recommendation, doc?”

“You should return to the bar,” she shrugged. “You have been hiding for too long. It’s time you go out more, meet new people.”

Her dark eyes bore into your face. You could feel your own pulse in your tummy. “I know,” you confessed with a strangled tone. “I’ve gotten better. I no longer think about him, you know?”

This was the reason why you had been dodging your best friend’s calls. Or cancelling plans at the last minute. This conversation was one you had been putting off for far to long but could no longer keep inside you.

“Good,” she sighed with relief, her heart-shaped face lit up with a kindness that warmed you up. “And how do you feel?”

“I feel… I used to feel angry. At him. For failing his promise to me,” you pursed your lips, swallowing hard as your voice dropped. “But now I just feel like I’m letting it go. I think that things had to happen like that for a reason.”

“He did you a kindness,” she nodded with a wise expression on her face.

You huffed. Kindness is not the word you would use. In fact, you could not come up with words to use to describe what he did to you.

“Seriously,” she insisted, straightening on her seat. “Imagine you got married! Then you would have been a loser’s wife!”

That elicited a genuine chuckle out of you. “True.”

“Not only that, but you would’ve also gotten divorced. Or who knows. But he spared you the pity of being married to him, divorcing him, or having children with his sorry ass.”

You pondered over her words for a second. Mona was there for you when you broke up with your ex. She was the first person to know the news, dropped everything to be at your doorstep within the hour of that happening.

You were grateful for Mona in more ways than one. She gave you space to grieve when you needed it. You did not even have to say it.

“So, are you going back to that bar some time soon?” she pried, leaving the tail of the cherry on her napkin, a knot neatly tied in the middle.

“Yeah,” you admitted. “I chickened out. I think he did see me, and I don’t want to leave that impression.”

“Do you need back up?” she threw you a cheeky look.

Oh, she knows.

“No, I think I got it,” you reassured. “I’ll just pop in, say hi and that’s it.”

Sundays were the worst for you.

The bustling noise from the bar drowned out the heavy thumping of your heart. Keeping your head down, your eyes darted forth and then down to the glass you kept twirling with your fingers on top of the lacquered, pristine bar top.

Kim Mingyu was busy that night. Prancing side to side behind the bar, a white dishcloth resting on his shoulder. He went to pick up a new order, yanking it from the small printer and pretending to read it.

His chocolate brown eyes lifted, locking on you. With a nervous jolt in your chest, you looked at your hands again, grabbing your phone to hopefully distract yourself from the awkward but swift exchange.

“I know you.”

You drew in a breath, jolting so hard that somehow your hands pushed your drink, making some of it spill on the polished surface. “God,” you exhaled in both embarrassment and surprise.

“Oh, I’m sorry,” Kim Mingyu blurted, grabbing the cloth from this shoulder and pressing it on the spilled drink. “Shit, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to startle you like that.”

“No, it’s okay,” you blurted, equally nervous as him. “You caught me off guard.”

“You know what they say,” he said, pressing his lips into a smile and discarding the cloth elsewhere, setting the palms of his hands on the edge of the bar top. “People with naughty thoughts in their heads get scared easily.”

“Nobody says that,” you raised your eyes from his hands to meet his face, his smile had grown, showing now the beautiful fangs that crowned it.

“I'm pretty sure I’ve heard it before somewhere,” he tilted his head to one side.

“Or maybe you just made it up,” you arched one eyebrow.

“Maybe,” he conceded, biting his lower lip to try and hide his shy smile.

A wave of warm embarrassment washed over your face, but you found yourself smiling at the man. “It’s been a long time.”

“So you do remember me.”

“Of course I do,” you replied with a meek smile burning your cheeks.

“Then why didn't you just say hi?” he replied with some faux indignation, pursing his lips into a pout. “I thought you hadn’t recognized me and that’s why you freaked out and left.”

“You didn't say hi either,” you shrugged, shaking your head lightly when you realized it was a bad excuse. “And it hasn’t been that many years, Mingyu,” you giggled. “Of course I remember you.”

The low chuckle that came from him ignited many memories from the past. “Really? Haven’t I changed? Not even a little?”

You rolled your eyes. The very last memories you had from Kim Mingyu were when you were still in high school. Even after many years, he kept the kind smile and bright eyes, the dark long hair. The only different thing about him was that he looked huge now.

He crossed his arms, waiting patiently for your answer. It was funny to you that even when his biceps bulged beneath his black t-shirt impressively, the starry eyes brought that boyish charm he has always had.

“Nope,” you said, shaking your head slowly. “Still the same.”

“But you have changed,” he remarked, nodding his head once. You blinked at him dumbly, so he just added: “Your hair is longer. Braces are gone.”

You let out a chuckle, enjoying how the features of his face went lax at the sound of your laughter, much as if he were holding in a breath until the moment that he made you laugh.

“Spot on,” you mumbled awkwardly, grabbing your empty glass.

It was totally the opposite, though. You feel like you had lost half of your younger self when you entered your twenties. The baby fat from your face was long gone, your skin was leagues better after the brutal hormonal changes. And your body of course was not the same… there were some improvements.

“Sorry, let me refill that for you,” he quickly got to work, pulling out a new glass, filling it back up, and with one move, he slipped it into your hand. “One whisky sour.”

“Thanks,” you pressed your lips in a shy smile.

You watched as he parted his lips, pausing for a second before speaking out, until another voice, a powerful one, boomed from across the bar.

“Kim Mingyu! Get to work!”

He straightened up as if mentally being whipped by the firmness of the command. The man who called was leaning back against a pool table, arms crossed on his chest. But instead of wearing a frown on his face, there was a broad smile in it.

“Ah! Shit, I’m sorry,” he replied in a nervous stammer, wincing when the man handling the bar alongside him slapped him on one shoulder.

“Focus, Min,” the guy who slapped him playfully smiled in a mischievous way, directing a swift glance at you and pursed his lips to keep himself from smiling any wider.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry!” he repeated, shooting an annoyed look at the guy and rolled his eyes at him. “I thought you had it for a minute.”

“Yeah, I did,” he shrugged. “But you don’t get paid to flirt. Plus, boss is watching,” the man pressed his lips into a sly smile.

“I’m not flirting–hyung,” Mingyu widened his eyes, gritting: “She is a friend.”

“Hi,” you raised one hand at the pair of bartenders, waving at them. “I’m a friend.”

“Oops, I’m sorry,” the tall man adjusted the watch sitting on his wrist before waving back at you. “Jeon Wonwoo. Also a friend.”

“Flatmate,” Mingyu gibed with faux dismissal.

“So I’m not your friend anymore?” Wonwoo clicked his tongue, raising his eyebrows. “Good luck with flirting again on the clock without having boss complaining.”

“I wasn’t flirting!” Mingyu whined, grabbing the upcoming order expelled by the little printer behind him.

“Since I’ve been downgraded to just being a flatmate, I’m going to take a break,” he announced with an overly dramatic tone of indignation.

Mingyu’s jaw dropped in a sign of it being unjust. “Hyung!”

“I trust you can handle the bar on your own?” Wonwoo said, undoing the knot tying his waist apron that was previously wrapping him from the waist and left through the back door.

“Tsk,” Mingyu huffed, but then, despite his situation, he smiled widely. “I’m sorry about that,” he offered you a kind look. “He’s just teasing me. Please don’t mind him.”

“It seems like all of your co-workers like teasing you,” you pointed meekly, darting a look towards the other two people standing over the end of the bar.

Mingyu shot a look back, finding the girl that had welcomed you some nights ago, standing beside a tall man of pale blond hair. Both exchanged a smile, looking giddy.

“Tsk, aah,” Mingyu shook his head, and the couple laughed. “Don’t mind them,” he pleaded, resuming to focus back on his work, though part of you assumed that he was too embarrassed to face you.

So, you watched as he busied himself taking orders, handing them out to the pretty girl tending the tables. You continued sipping on your drink, distractedly looking at your phone and sending him glances, noticing that he too was looking at you. Every now and then, he would just shake his head at her in disapproval, which she ignored with a wide smile on her face.

Whenever he tried to stop in front of you to chat, he would be quickly swept away by a new order, or someone would call his name, and he would excuse himself with a quiet apology and a shy smile.

Later, the man that introduced himself to you as Jeon Wonwoo returned to the bar, slapping Mingyu on the shoulder to draw his attention. They exchanged some words, Mingyu looked aback for a second and the other pouted, mouthing: “I don’t know,” and shrugging with ease.

“Hey,” Mingyu came to you after thanking his friend. “Wanna get out of here?”

“Eh?” you tilted your head to one side, the question making your stomach drop.

“So we can catch up,” Mingyu let out a sweet giggle, realizing how his question sounded. “I’m getting kicked out for the night.”

Your eyes widened in bewilderment. “Oh, Mingyu, I’m sorry, that is not what–,”

“Relax,” he sighed. “My flatmate is covering me. He owed me one.”

“Oh,” you blurted. In that case…

“It’s been a while.”

Mingyu hummed thoughtfully, casting a look at the night sky. “Uh, eleven–ten, ten years?” he calculated.

You were exiting the bar, walking down the side of the street after you told him you were just gearing up to head home already, and he kindly offered to walk you home. “Yep. Ten years.”

“Wow,” he sighed. “We’re getting old.”

You braced yourself for one of those talks. As you entered the second half of your twenties, things got a little awkward for you. Once you would think they were stuff of fiction, something you would only see in romantic comedies or in tv shows: characters see the people surrounding their lives getting married, going on dates, honeymoons, having children while they remain a perpetual loner.

Now, you could not relate to that more.

But Mingyu was a person who did not care for those things. Even when you were both seventeen. He did not care for material things, or superficial things.

“Yeah. A little.”

You drew in a breath through your nose. The night was cold, and you could tell in the summer’s breeze that it would rain later.

“I saw that you went in that fancy college,” he mentioned and then laughed. “And then you disappeared off the face of the earth.”

“Yeaaah,” you mumbled awkwardly. “I sort off eliminated all of my social media,” you frowned, remembering the reason why you had done that.

“I get it, it’s exhausting,” he shrugged.

“Did you go into that fancy college?” you returned, remembering Mingyu in those days in which he used to talk about the future, whenever you went out with your friend group. You remembered thinking that he had a bright future ahead of him whenever he would talk about studying mechanical engineering.

“Nah,” he clicked his tongue. “I quit those plans once I started working and making money. So, I’m not a mechanical engineer,” he let out a lazy giggle.

“Mmn,” you nodded. “Yeah, that happens. I’m not a graphic designer.”

“Why?” he frowned. “That’s all you talked about with your friends!”

You looked at him, perplexed to know that Kim Mingyu ever paid attention to you. Within your friend group, you were the least he had in common with. So even when you crossed paths, you never talked to each other aside from small friendly stuff.

“I started working as a translator… Started making money,” you sent him a knowing look.

“Yeah, I get it,” he chuckled. “But do you enjoy it at least?”

“Of course,” you smiled, though you could not ignore the way that your heartbeat faltered. “I work independently, though I do rent an office not far from here actually…” you said, pointing to the street where you were about to turn.

“Nice! I live in the area too, so maybe we’ll run into each other one day,” he mentioned.

“It’s nice to know I have a friendly neighbor,” you smiled. “I just moved here.”

“Oh, then let me show you around some day!” his eyes lit up. “There are a ton of places you probably don’t know of, like the bakery on the next alley, or the coffee shop right next to it, they serve really good breakfasts.”

“That would be nice,” you grinned.

Mingyu showed you a toothy grin, pausing in his step so you could catch up to him since he moved faster than you.

“Hey, about what happened back at the bar,” he motioned a finger to the bar. “I’m sorry about that. My friends can be a bit of dickheads.”

“No, it’s alright, I get it,” you shrugged. “A bit of in-work bantering can lighten up the shift sometimes,” you put simply.

“That and the fact that they have been teasing me for a while now. They try hard to distract me,” he rolled his eyes. But realizing how he came off, he added. “I had a nasty breakup not too long ago. It’s like they think I’m going to break soon. It’s annoying.”

“Can I ask how it happened?” you wondered, feeling your heartbeat falter when you finish uttering the words to a question that perhaps, might be too daring.

Kim Mingyu dug his hands in the pockets of his black denim jeans, sucking in a breath between his teeth. He pushed his shoulders up, that was when you noticed that the chill in the summer air was finally starting the get to him.

“She got into a new job,” he started, his eyes set far ahead on the way in front of you. “At the beginning, I thought that she was just happy from getting her big job. But then, she started saying things.”

As you walked beside him, you tried to keep your eyes trained on the tall man, but then he blinked rapidly, dropping his puppy eyes to his feet.

“She'd say things about my job,” he swallowed hard, and you could almost feel the pain he felt upon remembering. “I thought nothing of it at first, thought she was encouraging me to get a job with higher pay but...”

You nodded, and he sent you a glance in understanding. He did not need to say more about it, and he probably did not want to repeat the hurtful comments.

“And then,” he continued, and his tone dropped: “She started talking about her boss.”

He shook his head silently and exhaled through his nose, lifting his gaze up to the night sky.

“Time passed and the comments got meaner, she started ghosting me and I thought of breaking things off,” he swallowed hard once again, as if trying to mask his pain with it. “I got a call one day from a friend, telling me they saw her entering a restaurant with another man,” you saw him turn his hands into fists inside his pockets. “I guess she forgot that I had the day off that day, so she never thought I'd be waiting for her outside her apartment.”

“Did she...” you blurted out, your heart palpitating in your ears. You braced yourself to hear it, because you knew from before that his pain and yours were too alike.

“Yeah,” he croaked, blinking for a long second. “For weeks.”

“God, I’m so sorry,” you covered your mouth with one hand. “I'm sorry, Mingyu.”

“I'm alright,” he shrugged once more, nodding as if to himself. “I think I'm grateful for her mean attitude towards me because in a way she softened the blow, but it still hurts.”

“I know,” you conceded. “It isn’t easy.”

However, you were raging inside. Some nights, the worst ones, you wonder what you did wrong to deserve everything that your ex did to you. The broken promises, the lies, the ghosting, your trust being brutally shattered.

“The worst thing is the shame,” he sent a glance at you, dragging his foot on the concrete to kick one rock that stood in the way of the park.

You nodded in silence.

“I never told my friends,” he confessed, his eyes were outlining the tree branches. “When it happened, I just told them that she was the one who broke up with me... I've never told them the truth.”

“You are not obligated to,” you muttered, a cold shudder added to your already chilled body making you pause.

“I just couldn't do it,” he muttered. “And the reason isn’t to protect her image, though at the beginning I thought it was… I just don’t want to the pity.”

You crossed your arms close to your chest. “And how are you now?”

“I’m okay,” he said with a reassuring tone. “I like to think that I’ve let it go already.”

Something made your tummy twist. You were familiar with the feeling, but decided not to mention it, since you felt that your past with your ex was no longer relevant.

“I’m sorry,” Mingyu said.

You frowned at him. “What for?”

“For dumping all of this on you, I shouldn’t have done that.”

You realized that as you walked down the park, that you had remained quiet, and perhaps Mingyu mistook your silence for something other than you just pondering about how familiar his situation was to yours.

“Oh, please no, don’t worry, Mingyu,” you showed him a kind smile.

“I don’t want to bother you with that. I just…” he scratched his neck absentmindedly. “I had never talked about this with anyone, and the words just flew out of my mind, you know?”

You nodded; you knew that all too well. “It’s okay, Gyu,” you insisted. “I’m not bothered. I don’t think it’s wrong to talk about that. After all, it is part of you, and I asked because I was curious.”

Mingyu looked at you for a long second. “I appreciate that,” he kissed his own lower lip, nodding in gratitude. “Thanks for hearing me out.”

“Hey, it’s nothing. You’re walking me home, so consider us even,” you pointed.

“You owe me nothing for that,” he pouted slightly, pausing his step in the middle of the basketball court you both were crossing to get to the other side of the neighborhood.

“I’m just saying,” you shrugged. “Since you were kind to me, I guess what I can do is listen to your woes,” you added playfully.

“My woes,” he grinned, clicking his tongue. “Really? You’re a tease,” he insisted, his eyes spotting something on the far corner of the court.

He sprinted towards the forgotten ball, grabbing it with one hand and started to bounce it as he walked back to you.

“Remember when we used to do this?” he asked, standing outside the box and turned to look at you, raising his arms with the ball ready on one hand.

Your tummy fluttered at his words. “Course I do, Gyu. It wasn’t that long ago,” you pointed.

He referred to the times when you used to go out in your friend group, you would go to stroll and have picnic nights with booze right next to the river, and then you would go to the park to watch the boys play basketball.

“I feel like seventeen happened forever ago,” he sighed, confidently throwing the ball which dodged the hoop quite miserably.

You snorted.

Mingyu shot a sullen look at you. “D’you think you can do better than me?” he challenged, but a shy smile drew on his face.

“Oh, most definitely,” you chuckled, but caught the ball with your hands when he passed it to you.

“Right, show me,” he nodded to the hoop.

You grinned, getting ready to shoot your shot. “What do I get if it goes in?”

Mingyu blinked. “You get,” he paused to think. “A round of applause.”

“What?” you gasped.

“A chocolate bar,” he giggled but when you did not reply, he said: “And if you don’t, you’ll get a forehead flick.”

“What, why?” you asked with a faux scandalized tone. “You didn’t get a forehead flick, why should I?”

The giggled that bubbled in his mouth was high and cute at the same time. “Those are the rules.”

“Your rules suck,” you huffed, and finally threw the ball.

It of course, did not go even near the hoop. Mingyu laughed the second that the trajectory of the ball dived before it even went close to the hoop, the sound was so contagious you found yourself resisting to laugh.

“Rules are rules,” he said, locking his middle finger with the pad of his thumb, forming a circle with his joined fingers.

“No, wait—Mingyu!” you squealed then the tip of his middle finger clashed with your forehead, flicking you swiftly. Pain flashed across your skin, but it quickly dissipated, leaving a tingle behind.

“Those were the rules, you agreed!” he giggled again, dodging your hand as you tried to push his shoulders.

“Then you should get one too,” you struggled to keep up with him, every single one of the fists you threw at him dodged quite effortlessly.

“The rules were settled after I threw,” he let out a small squeal when one of your fists nearly collided with his shoulder, but he was still quicker than you.

“Come here you-,” you gasped, your body was neatly trapped in his arms.

Your gaze shot up to find his, overwhelmed by the very pressure of his skin against yours.

“Stay put,” he panted. The tips of his ears were painted red, his eyes had lit up. The smile he wore on his face was just as overwhelming as feeling his big arms surrounding you.

But you sneaked a hand between your bodies, flicking off his forehead with a triumphant smile. “Dummy,” you whispered, a giggle bubbling in your chest. Joy bloomed inside you, warming up your face.

He lifted a hand to rub his forehead, letting you go. “Ack, but you played dirty!” he complained, holding the pads of his fingers to his forehead.

“No, I didn’t, you did,” you remarked, looking at him as he gave you a lazy smile.

“So that’s how it’s going to be,” he kissed his teeth. “I’ll get my revenge on you.”

“Oooh, I’m so scared,” you lifted your hands, flickering them in a scared motion.

The sky rumbled above you. Mingyu looked up and you followed. “We should get going,” he said.

As you left the park, you made your way along the sidewalk where your building was located. Then a hand came to your waist, gently prompting you to walk along the side of the buildings instead of along the edge of the sidewalk.

The touch was minimal, fleeting. But your mouth went dry, searching his face for any sign that he knew what he had done to you with such an insignificant gesture.

Your heart stammered against your chest, quite uncontrollably, it made it hard for you to breathe properly. You raised your head when you got to your building. “We’re here,” you stepped in the first step of the stairs that led to the door of the building, pausing to look back at his face. “Thank you, Min.”

The smile that drew on his face knocked the air out of your lungs. “You are welcomed,” he said, emphasizing each word adorably.

“I guess I’ll be seeing you,” you muttered awkwardly, hating that he had flustered you with so little and had no idea about it.

“Oh, yes,” he swiftly fished his phone from the pocket of his jeans. “We should exchange numbers, in case there is anything you need.”

You sighed shortly through your nose, a thing he did not notice. “Sure,” you said, pulling out your phone and gave him your number.

“I’m mostly busy at the bar but, maybe we could go out for coffee, so we can catch up properly?” he asked.

That gave you a reason to pause. You were certain that he was not asking you for a date, but why had you become so nervous at the thought of going out with Kim Mingyu?

“Of course, I’d love that,” you grinned. “Goodnight.”

And then you ran into your building. Running away from Mingyu for a second time.

You struggled to get sleep that night.

Staring at the ceiling, you grew more and more restless, and even more aware of the thing that lied beneath your bed, inside one of the drawers of the bed frame.

A long, whiny sigh of resignation spilled from you before you could get a hold of your actions. You rolled to the edge of the bed, flinging an arm over the mattress, and yanking the drawer open. Another sigh as your fingers reached for the pink satin bag and bottle of lube.

Tossing the covers off your already hot and pulsating body, fingers trembling slightly as you pulled the vibrator out of the satin pink bag you kept it in since you bought it. There had been only a couple of times that you had actually touched the pretty toy with your hands. The toy was pink, the material was soft, thick, and just about enough inches long to satisfy you. Or so you hoped.

Unsure as to how to go about this, you thought of removing just the lower part of your sleeping clothes, including your panties. Breathing hard, and feeling hot in the face and neck, you lied on your pillows, staring at the ceiling.

Your heart was banging fast against your ribcage, as if it wanted to get out. You liked your lips, before grabbing the bottle of lube you had tossed beside you and pumped the cold, thick lube on your fingers, gently applying it between your pussy lips.

You sucked in a breath through your teeth upon the chilly contact against your warmth. But wasted no time, grabbing the pink rabbit dildo from your sheets and holding the button with your thumb.

It came to life with rapid vibrations, the buzzing sound made you jolt in your bed again. But mustering some courage, you brought the tip in, pushing it inside your entrance gently at first. The fast mechanic motions of the vibrator made it hard to concentrate, or to even get pleasure out of it.

Your eyes outlined the edges of the ceiling, anxiously pushing a few more inches inside your needy walls. The thickness of the dildo made your mouth part, releasing a tiny moan of both pain and from feeling your pussy stretching and pulsating around it.

Slowly, you familiarized yourself with the feeling of it, and you grew to like it as the seconds went by and you found a mode that felt good. Your body responded naturally, coming alight with the mechanic patterns of the vibrator massaging your walls. You pushed it all the way inside you, to the part that met your clit.

A strangled moan came out of you, letting your body be submerged in a puddle of pleasure. You sank your head back onto your pillows and spread your legs more so that the dildo reached deeper inside your walls.

It was electrifying. You felt your muscles tighten, your legs burn and begin to tremble, you turned your head to muffle a moan in your pillow and closed your eyes.

Behind your eyelids, you saw him. You saw his tall frame, the beautiful way that he moved. You saw the outline of his lean torso, the t-shirt clinging onto his abdomen. The way he smiled when he noticed your eyes on him, winking at you knowingly.

The way that every nerve in your body sizzled when he laid his hand on your waist. The memory only contributed to the pleasure blooming inside your body, pushing you closer to the edge.

You slowly succumbed to waves of pleasure washing over you, you moaned and thrashed but made no attempt to pull out the vibrator continuing to pleasure you, taking you to the edge. Your orgasm became brutal, fast fiery waves consuming you, tearing through you.

It was hard to ignore the urge to remember his large hand on you, the way he lowered his gaze to meet yours, his seductive smile. You wanted his hands on you, all over you.

A series of airy moans resounded across the walls, you arched your back from the bed, legs shaking uncontrollably, the burning feeling spreading from your throbbing walls to every corner of your aching body.

You held in a breath, putting an end to your implacable moans. The intense feeling coursing through your body making it harder to stop, so when a warm and wet gush came out of you, your thumb pressed the off button, realizing that you had just wet the bed.

Breathless, and shaking, you sat up on the bed, looking at the wet spot in your bed sheets. It was the first time you squirted, the first time you even felt pleasure so abundantly like this. You pondered over how you had to resort to thinking about Mingyu to achieve your climax.

With a sigh, you gathered yourself, cleaning your bed, yourself, and your toys before throwing your ruined bed sheets in the washing machine. You placed new ones and tucked yourself back in and stared at the ceiling.

Though you were completely languid at the time, your vision faded to black, falling into a deep slumber but one thought remained.

I think I’ll accept that coffee.

Easier said than done.

As the following Monday rolled around, you fidgeted with the sleeves of your large hoodie as you approached the door of Casa Pump House. Nerves wrecked up in your system when you pushed the door open using your electronic key.

It had been some days since you saw Mingyu. Some nights since you dared to touch yourself thinking of him. And you were trying your best to keep him out of your mind. Utterly ashamed, you did not even want to think of what you had done.

Because you had enjoyed it.

In the back of your mind, a tiny voice begged for you to visit The Spot again. Whenever you went to the convenience store, a flashing thought warned you that you might run into him there. Or at the gym, even.

“Heyyyy,” Jungkook rasped, elongating the word. “You have been MIA.”

“Yeah,” you mumbled awkwardly. “Stomach flu.”

He made a face. “Ew. You’re good now?”

You rolled your eyes. “Don’t ew me,” you gibed. “Yeah, I’m good.”

But Jungkook did not know the stomach flu had a name, and you have been doing everything to not cross paths with him. So why were you at the gym, knowing full well that you could potentially run into him around that time?

“You’re here early,” he pointed, leaning his head to one side.

“It’s noon already!” you quipped.

“That’s early for you,” he remarked. “You always come here when I’m leaving.”

“Well, I missed you so I thought I could come here earlier to see your face,” you returned.

“You know what, I’ll take that. I missed your silly face too,” he said, smirking triumphantly.

“Shut up,” you rolled your eyes.

“Well,” he clasped his hands together, comically drawing in his eyebrows in a deep-set frown. “Let’s get to work, twinkie.”

“What did you just call me?” you demanded at him.

“Twinkie,” he shrugged, motioning a finger at your body. “You look squishy, like a cute twinkie.”

“Hey!” you frowned, pointing a finger at him impishly. “And you look like you were left alone with a sharpie started doodling on your skin.”

His mouth parted in a tiny o. “Touché.”

You giggled. “Okay, let’s get to work,” you rolled your eyes in resignation.

“Let’s start with some warmup,” he nodded to the elliptical machines behind you. “Ten minutes. And then you are going to do RDLs, okay?”

“Okaaaaay,” you mumbled, reluctantly taking your body to the elliptical machine.

You climbed the steps, pressing buttons to see what made the machine start. Once you found the button that made it work, you started moving. You dove into the pocket of your hoodie, looking for your earbuds and your phone to distract yourself from the monotony of the gym.

“Hands out of your pockets!” Jungkook yelped, a second later you saw the man rushing to your side. “You’re gonna get squished, twinkie.”

“Stop calling me that,” you giggled with embarrassment.

“I will when you get a nickname for me that suits me,” he negotiated.

“God, you’re terrible at flirting,” you pointed with a laugh.

“I’m not flirting,” he chuckled, awkwardly moving away from you.

You let out a puffy breath, drawing out your earbuds out of your pocket.

“Mingyuuuu, it has been ages!” Jungkook chanted, his voice resounding across the lonely gym.

Your stomach twisted, an anxious rush of blood barrelling throughout your body. Your gaze snapped around the place, finding Jungkook pressing his phone to his ear. “This Friday? Uh, yeah, maybe I could. Let me check and I’ll let you know, okay? Okaaay.”

It could be anyone else, you reasoned, placing the earbuds inside your earholes with embarrassment controlling your body. However, it seemed all too likely that it was the same Kim Mingyu on the phone. After all, Jungkook and Mingyu seemed like the kind of goofballs that would get along.

A probability that you did not want to find out yet.

As you continued your best to follow your routine, something had damaged it. And it was not that you were still ashamed of yourself. Or that you were still flustered about your last encounter with Mingyu.

The realization that you could feel something other than monotony. From the moment you broke things off with your ex, everything felt the same, tasteless, colorless. And you knew that you had put in the work to break out of that dullness in your life, you went out more, you were meeting new people.

But nothing compared to that night. And you found out that you wanted more.

However, it was not easy. You had drowned yourself in work in order to keep avoiding it. So there you were, trapped in your little office you rented for yourself, working yourself to exhaustion so that you could just get back home and sleep immediately.

You turned off the computer after reading the clock that it was three in the morning already. So you grabbed your phone, and your apartment keys and went out of the building.

Damn you, summer rains.

They always came when you least expect it, in the blink of an eye. The air felt so hot as you went out of your office that you could barely walk outside, but then the rain was pouring over you with no notice.

Walking down the sidewalk in working shoes was not the best idea. In fact, you were heavily contemplating removing them and just going back home barefoot.

You came to a reluctant halt in the middle of the deserted sidewalk, as heavy droplets of water fell on your face, on the back of your head as you stared at your shoes, getting wetter and wetter as you pondered over your dilemma.

“Lost something?”

Taking one big gulp of air, you shot a look across the sidewalk, only to find Kim Mingyu standing, wearing his usual attire for work. The features of his face looked relaxed despite the heaviness with which he approached you, carrying his fatigue in his limbs with each step.

His white T-shirt began to accumulate wet spots on his shoulders and chest. His cheeks were wet, as was his long messy hair.

You gaped at him in question. The dilemma occupying your brain dissipated into the void, quickly replaced by the shock of seeing him after days of keeping him at arm’s length without failure.

“Hi there,” he muttered once he stood one step before you.

“Hi,” you smiled, having to tilt your head to find his face.

“You’ve been gone,” he said with some air of urgency, much as if he did not want to lose you at some lazy excuse on your part. “I was starting to wonder that you didn’t want to hang out anymore.”

You hated his straightforwardness sometimes. “Sorry,” you scrunched up your nose in discomfort, receiving more fat droplets of water on your face. “I needed some me time.”

“Then you should’ve just said so, dummy,” he pointed, rolling his eyes at you as if his point were the most obvious thing in the world.

“I struggle to say things sometimes,” you retorted in a whiny tone. “Look, I’d love to continue this conversation but we’re literally just soaking in the middle of the street.”

Mingyu raised his eyebrows, as though he had not noticed the rain pouring down on both of you. “I’ll walk you home,” he motioned in the opposite direction from which he was previously coming.

And with that, he turned around and started to walk down the street.

You fell into step at his side, struggling to keep his steady pace. “Slow down,” you exhaled.

“Right,” he giggled sweetly. “Short legs.”

“Shut up,” you readjusted the strap of your bag on your shoulder. “You just walk really fast.”

“Because I’m taller than you, my legs are longer,” he motioned to his legs, taking one big step that amounted to three of yours.

“Well, then walk slower, please,” you huffed with exhaustion already building up in your feet.

Mingyu noticed, still looking at your face as he walked. “Fine, sorry,” he conceded. “Are you just clocking off work?”

You nodded, noticing your ponytail heavier now that your hair was soaking. “I wanted to finish everything before the weekend.”

“It’s three in the morning,” he gasped in dramatic reprimand.

“Don’t give me that look,” you frowned, pointing a finger at him. “I could say the same to you! You also just clocked off.”

“But that is normal for my job! What you do is not something specifically for night hours,” he argued, matching your tone.

“What do you know about what I do?” you tried to argue but a smile fought to curve your lips. “I could hold office hours specifically from 11 pm to 3 am,” you giggled impishly.

“Ah, really you are…” he rolled his eyes but shook the thought from his head. “Could you finish?”

Droplets of water slid down the bridge of his nose, dropping from the tip and onto his cupid’s bow. You remembered the cute little beauty mark sitting on the tip of his nose. You wanted to kiss it.

It took you one second to understand what he was implying. “Oh, yes, I did,” you stammered, crossing your arms over your chest.

But Mingyu did not notice the meaning behind your gaze. “That’s good,” he nodded, pressing his lips together.

The short spasm returned in your chest, making you tear your eyes from his face and keep walking beside him, staring at the sidewalk.

“How was work tonight?” you returned the question, trying to get as much light conversation as you could without falling into the deep craving tugging in your insides.

“It was alright,” he shrugged. “Nothing out of the ordinary.”

“What would that look like?” you ventured.

“Ah, well, drunk people tend to be funny,” he showed you a toothy grin. “One guy celebrated his birthday at the bar one night, and after a few drinks he lost control, went insane,” he laughed in the memory of it. “He started thinking he was an idol, he requested a song and got on a top of the bar and started dancing.”

His laugh was contagious, you could not help but respond with a giggle of your own. “Oh, no, that sounds embarrassing. What did you do?”

“He lost his balance and fell to the floor,” his smile vanished, shuddering slightly. “He broke his nose, I had to call an ambulance,” he finished the story, scratching his nape absentmindedly.

“That’s not how I thought the story would end. Talk about a night to remember,” you huffed awkwardly.

“Well that is one story of many,” his eyes widened slightly.

“But you like it?” you raised your eyebrows. “D-do you like your job?”

“I do,” he reaffirmed with a nod.

The rain had completely succeeded at soaking your clothes, your button shirt felt cold against your skin, and your jeans were tight and damp, it was starting to get hard to move.

Whereas you felt like a wet ragged doll, Mingyu looked like a supermodel. His long dark hair was dripping wet onto his beautiful face. His white T-shirt was clinging to the muscles of his body, letting you view the well-defined lines of his abdomen.

“Were here already?” Mingyu asked when you came to a halt in front of your building.

“Yeah,” you said distractedly, sending him a look as you opened the door to the inside of the building, welcomed by the smell of humidity and dust. “Don’t just stand there.”

The man followed you inside without much insistence. You started machining in your brain your next movements while climbing the first flight of stairs to the door of your apartment, which you opened with a shaky hand.

You staggered awkwardly against the door frame, trying to keep your chin up to hold his gaze. One hand brushed the worn edges of the frame, resting on it as you caught your breath. Mingyu noticed your eyes this time around. And you almost did not want to realize that his eyes were on your body as well.

“Do you want to come in?” you asked meekly, darting a look at the dark interior of your apartment, aside from the little lamp you always left on when you went out. “I can make something to eat. And lend you a towel, fresh clothes, maybe.”

Much to your fortune, the man nodded with his head. “If you want,” he mumbled, so you slid back inside your apartment for him to follow inside. “Though I’d have to reject the clothes,” reluctantly, he strolled inside your haven, looking at the abandoned big frame and leaning against the hallway wall.

“Why?” you asked, still walking backward as he paced before you.

“Because they might not fit me,” he chuckled, his smile knocking the air out of your lungs.

“What do you know, I could have something that might,” you smirked, getting him a towel you had discarded earlier in the morning.

He gave you a light gesture of gratitude with his head, thanks, he mouthed before pressing the towel to his face.

“Do you…” you hesitated. “Can I offer you something?”

He sneaked a look at you with the towel pressed to the lower half of his face.

“Like water?” you suggested with a sheepish smile. “I have ramen–and rice in the fridge.”

He contemplated you as you swayed your body on the balls of your feet ever so gently. “You don’t need to do that,” he finally replied.

“It’s just food, Mingyu. You walked home with me,” you shrugged, motioning to the kitchen, your fingers grazing the rim of the dining table.

The man took one step towards you, making your step stutter. “I mean that,” he smiled. “You don’t have to repay nothing, shorty. That’s what friends are for.”

You stumbled against the edge of your dining table, a gasp leaving your lips that you quickly tried to replace with a muffled chuckle. “You know, I could say the same thing.”

“How long are you going to keep this up?”

“What?” you breathed, completely perplexed by both the proximity and the question. “Ke-keep what up?”

“Don’t think I haven’t noticed,” he muttered gruffly, pushing you to lean back against the dining table without laying one finger on you. He was just so close to you that you had no room to breathe.

“Noticed what? Mingyu–,” you giggled in utter shyness when he knowingly smiled at you. The blood rushing to your face made your skin tingle, you bit your lower lip.

“Am I making you nervous?” his voice dropped, his dark eyes reading the features of your face with avid curiosity.

“Yes,” you admitted, leaning back with your hands gripping the wooden rim of the table as he towered over you. “I like you, Kim Mingyu.”

His triumphant smile crushed your heart with its beauty. Damn you, Kim Mingyu.

“I like you too,” he whispered, leaning closer, the smile fading softly as you stopped moving back.

“Mingyu,” you whispered, hating how much you were flustered at his confession, your voice waning.

Mingyu paused, but it was not out of hesitance, his gaze swimming on your features quickly softened once you dared to reach out to him. Using the proximity of your bodies, you found his face with your hands, realizing how warm his skin was.

“Yeah?” he whispered back, nodding slightly with his head. Mingyu wanted this too.

You are not sure what happened, if you moved first or he did. You closed your eyes, breath hitching as his lips touched yours, your skin coming to life with a fiery rush of blood. From pressing his lips against your own, he quickly moved to kiss you deeper, using one hand on your chin to tilt your face to him.

Your heart stammered in your chest, his hand returning to park in your waist. Friends don’t kiss, you wanted to tell him.

Who were you kidding, you had never wanted someone like you wanted Mingyu.

But this is wrong, you thought over and over again.

“Mingyu,” you breathed when his fingers on your chin tilted your head for him to kiss the underside of your jaw, slowly pressing his lips twice.

“Mn?” he hummed really close to your skin, so you felt his short sigh, his breath brushing your skin.

“We should stop,” you brought a hand to the middle of his chest, feeling his hard pecs beneath your palm.

“Why? Am I doing something wrong?” he asked, backing away from you so he could take a look at your face.

“No, not at all,” you said, short of breath, rigid in your muscles in a weak attempt to resist what you wanted to do.

“Okay, if you want to stop, then we stop,” he offered with a kind tone, slowly following your gaze as you palmed his chest over his t-shirt.

“I- I mean if we do this…” you stammered, feeling stupid. “I don’t want us to change.”

A toothy grin spread on his lips. “How would this change us?” he shot a look to your eyes then your lips.

“I don’t want to cross a line we can’t come back from,” you explained, still not letting go of him.

He stilled completely; you saw it in his eyes when he started to craft a plan. “You draw the line.”

“Mingyu…” you whispered, your lips pouting around the last sound of his name.

This was not the same as playing basketball in the middle of the night with him. This could potentially tilt your world upside down. He did not know yet the way he made you feel just by being around you.

“You can draw it here if you want,” he offered, his tone was nothing but kind.

A smile stretched your lips slowly. He made things harder for you like this. Letting you be the one to choose was dangerous, if not stupid. But he did not know.

“I don’t want you to look at me differently,” you quivered. It was still hard to breathe since he was still within arm’s reach. Your hand lingered still right on top of his heart.

“I won’t,” he whispered back, gesturing a no with his head slightly. “I promise.”

Mingyu did not know that you were all too familiar with the pain that he carried. Even if he were not hurting at that moment, you knew what he was going through.

Mingyu looked at you as if he had just dipped into the stream of your thoughts but were left unbeknownst to your actual insecurities. “You’re safe with me,” he mumbled, offering you the ghost of a smile.

You thought of all the nights you wished for something like this to happen. The moments you wished to get a touch, to feel what you felt the first time he placed his hands on you.

Mingyu grabbed you by the waist, easily lifting you off your feet and placing you on the small dining table. He did this carefully, but you could sense that he wanted you in a position where he could kiss your face freely. His hands held your face lightly, while he continued pressing kisses on your lips, your cheeks.

This time, as he dives back in your lips, his tongue brushes against yours, lightly at first but enough to elicit a throaty moan from you. The frenzy pulsing in your throat turns into a warmth, blooming from your neck to your face.

He realized you liked that, and tried it one more time, his tongue lingering on the tip of yours before he pulled back. “I should go now,” he whispered, the pad of his thumb caressing your chin gently. “Or I won’t be able to stop.”

You grabbed his wrist. “Wait,” you breathed. “Please don’t. Don’t go. I don’t want you to leave.”

Did you want him? Or did you just not want to spend the night alone, wondering about him?

Mingyu seemed to desist, much as if the rigidness that he used to command himself away from your body had dissolved once he heard your plea. You caught sight of his throat bobbing when he gulped hard, searching your features as if he would find what to say in them.

“Stay the night with me,” you blurted uncontrollably.

“Sure,” he replied, grabbing the edges of the dining table as though he were withholding the urge to touch you again.

“Do you want to, Mingyu?” you asked, reluctant about his general lack of resistance to your offer.

He smiled as he tilted his head to one side. “I would’ve said no if I didn’t want to,” he raised his eyebrows in question. “If I stay, I do want to know one thing. Are you sure about this?”

Before you uttered the same quippy response he gave you, the flashing thought of sabotaging yourself crossed your mind. He knew this. Mingyu knew that you had a tendency to be a people pleaser, of trying to make everyone happy.

“I am,” you reassured, and it was the final blow to what little self-control you had left. “I want you, Mingyu.”

The words caused an impact on him. He breathed in slowly, but his eyes widened ever so slightly, shooting up a glance to your features. His eyes lit up, his beautiful lips curving in a small, but shy smile.

Finally admitting that aloud, and to him also caused something within you. Your pulse quickened, followed by a heat rushing inside you, stretching so far that it reached the tips of your fingers, commanding them to his face.

The pads of your fingers touched the line of his jaw in a gentle caress, urging him back to your lips before you could say something even more damming to your soul. The stammering of your heart was distracting, telling you to let go of this man before he could hurt himself in the tumultuous and dark path that led to your heart.

But you could not. Take the risk, the words echoed in the back of your mind.

“Mingyu,” you blurted, parting from his lips. “Couch, sit.”

You heard an airy chuckle left him as he broke away from the kiss, walking back and blindly falling on the couch, not bothering to look around to make sure where he was heading. You jumped from the dining table, crossing the space to follow him.

His hands pulled you in, his grip on your waist coming back to command you to sit on top of him, which you did willingly, pressing one knee on the couch, then the other, framing Mingyu’s thighs.

Now that you were straddling, a tiny voice in the back of your mind wanted to pull the breaks, but your hands found his face again, your palms caressing his cheeks as you slid your fingers in his long dark hair, brushing it back before sinking your lips in his.

His hands roved your back, starting from your waist up, his fingers getting caught in your hair when he reached your shoulder blades, pressing on your skin over your dress shirt. Your hands went around the back of his head, sliding down to find his thick neck.

Your tongue rolled inside his mouth, swiping a line on his lower lip in the process. Your body came alight with a shudder when a raspy moan coiled around his throat, you felt it beneath your fingertips.

A soft wet sound bubbled between your lips and his when you stopped kissing him, pausing for air. You thought of what to say, resting your forehead on his.

“Do you want to keep going?” he asked.

Every inch of your skin tickled when you heard how gruff his voice had turned. You nodded with your head.

“Yes,” you replied. “You? What do you want, Mingyu?”

The inner corners of his eyebrows twitched ever so slightly, but you noticed it. The question caught him off guard as if that had not been a consideration before. It broke you.

“I don’t want to stop,” he said with a sigh. But realizing that he only half answered your question, he added: “I want you. I’ll go as far as you let me.”

The tiny voice grew more alarmed, but you ignored it besottedly running the pads of your fingers to brush back a rebellious strand of hair back from his face. Mingyu was beautiful, the most beautiful man you have ever seen. But the pull you felt for him went beyond the physical. You needed him.

“Take control, baby,” he whispered.

And you obliged. The strangled sound that bubbled inside you was almost foreign to you. You were on his lips again, kissing him hungrily like you had never kissed someone else before. His hands grabbed your hips, bringing you impossibly closer to his body, pushing your chest flush against his.

You palmed his chest, appreciating the warmth radiating from him with a low hum, which he reciprocated, his hands daring to move farther down your back, cupping your ass and pulling you down on him, pushing your crotch against his.

“Mingyu,” you whimpered in his mouth. You grounded your hips on him, replicating the motion by swaying your hips back and forth on him once, then twice.

“Fuck,” he blurted, then shut his eyes tightly. “Sorry, sorry.”

“It’s okay,” you whispered, continuing to ground your hips on him, rubbing yourself on the hard bulge beneath his blue jeans. “Do you like this?”

“Yeah, yes, baby,” he rasped. “But I want you to feel good, shorty. C-can I move you to the bed?” he shuddered.

You stopped grinding on him. “Sure-,” you gasped. Before you could finish your sentence, Mingyu was rising to his feet, scooping you up with him.

He giggled softly when you squealed in surprise. “I got you,” he wrapped your body effortlessly, his arms carrying you safely.

Your arms went around his neck by instinct, but he crossed your tiny studio apartment faster than your brain could even process. As he laid you on the mattress, you noticed that he had made sure that only your legs were hanging on the edge of the bed.

Mingyu placed a hand on the mattress, right next to your shoulder, then the other. “Stop me if you don’t like anything at all,” he muttered, climbing on top of you, and lowering his hips to meet yours.

He was heavy—heavier than you had expected or imagined in your most delusional nights. And he was not even lowering his full weight on you.

You swallowed thickly. But recovered when your hands found the hem of his t-shirt. “I want to see you without this,” you toyed with the damp cotton fabric, sending him a look.

Mingyu smiled and pulled back on the mattress, standing on his knees before you. He crossed his arms, grabbing the hem of his t-shirt to pull it up his torso, and off his head, showing his skin unabashedly.

A shudder flashed down your spine. You wondered before what was beneath that t-shirt, but what little you dared to imagine did not compare to the actual beauty he was. Before you could even take the image before you, Mingyu was already leaning over your body, propping a chaste kiss on your lips.

“Fair is fair?” he asked meekly, a thumb brushing over one button of your dress shirt.

“Yeah,” you showed him a smile, realizing you were jittery.

You watched his hand trail down as he undid each button, your shirt parting and slowly revealing the white bra you wore. It was nothing too daring, but it fit you well, accentuating your breasts nicely.

You darted a look at his face. Mingyu finished undoing the buttons of your shirt, his gaze lost in you as he palmed your tummy with a gentle caress to uncover more of your skin to him.

“God, you’re so pretty,” he gasped, leaning to press a hard kiss on your lips, his hand cupping your cheek.

Too astounded to even bring yourself to reply, you whimpered into the kiss, his tongue outlining your lower lip, his hand on your waist inched to your chest, setting your skin on fire. He cupped one of your breasts, groaning in desperation before hiking up the cup of your bra, to touch you freely.

Your hands flew to undo his belt, hastily undoing the button and zipper of his jeans too. “Get up,” you gasped, his thumb swirling your nipple, getting it to pebble, a tingle spreading on your skin beneath his touch.

Mingyu obliged, knowing where you were going before you even made a move. His gaze followed you as you pushed his jeans down, getting rid of them. In two full motions, your dress shirt was discarded on the floor along with your bra before you returned your back to the mattress.

He looked at you like no one else had before. There you were, splayed on your bed beneath him, and he was just taking you in with his gaze, making your heart flutter wildly.

His fingers grazed the skin of your thigh, inching closer to the band of your panties. You trapped his index and middle finger in your hand, his gaze snapping to yours.

“Fair is fair,” you reminded him with a grin.

He stood before your bed wearing a pair of grey boxers only. Pushing the inside of his cheek with his tongue, he sighed shortly. “You played dirty,” he pointed, but he removed his hand from your grasp.

You sat up, stopping him when you shot him a look, wordlessly telling him you wanted to finish undressing him yourself. You enjoyed the look on his face, his features going soft when you ran a finger from his belly button to the band of his boxers.

You palmed the outline of his cock, darting a quick look at his face when you felt the wet patch of precum on the last piece of clothing he wore. When your fingers finally curled around the waistband of his boxers, you could not help but conceal your smile by biting your lower lip.

Mingyu was fully hard, and he was big. A shudder tore through you. He stepped out of his boxers, looking at the bewildered expression on your face as he stood wholly naked, and proudly so.

Before you could even utter a word, he motioned you to lie back once more. You smiled, helping him get rid of your wet and ruined panties, which he yanked down your legs, tossing them to the floor, littered with your and his clothes.

“Gyu,” you whimpered, his lips pressing a sweet kiss on your lower, moving to capture it in a deeper kiss.

“Need you,” he whispered against your skin, his breath hot and quivering slightly as his hands palmed your breasts, his thumbs brushing your perked nipples. “I need you, baby.”

Your hands roamed on his back, feeling the outlines of his hard muscles. “Take me,” you blurted. “I’m right here.”

He placed a kiss on the underside of your jaw, and you tilted your head back for him to kiss your throat. “I want to eat you out,” he husked against the plain of your chest, kissing the swell of your breasts, taking his time with each as you raked your fingers on his scalp. “Can I?”

“God, yes, Mingyu, please,” you gasped, his mouth wrapped around one of your nipples, making you stir your back on your mattress.

Mingyu hummed as he licked your tits, his tongue swirling around your areolas, kissing your nipples and suckling at them. His hands caressed the inner side of your thighs, spreading them open as his mouth trailed down your tummy, kissing your skin, making it prickle.

A moan coiled in your throat. You needed him now. “Hurry,” you blurted with a whine.

Mingyu obeyed wordlessly, getting down on his knees. Kissing your mound, his hands cupping your inner thighs focusing solely on your pussy before diving in, his tongue swiping a broad stroke on your pussy lips, licking you fully. The feeling overwhelmed you at once, and you knew you would not last long.

“God,” you gasped, as he licked your folds sending you a look from between your thighs. The view was so lewd, beating any experience you had ever had in the past in a matter of seconds.

Silence flooded the room, aside from the wet sounds of his mouth on your pussy, licking your folds, and your increased breathing. Your mouth had fallen open, and you forgot to breathe.

His hair tickled your skin, his warm hands holding you down as he licked, suckled, and nipped at your pussy, as though he were getting familiar with it, as though he just wanted to taste if first before moving his tongue to your clit.

And when he did, you knew there was no going back.

A breathy moan escaped, and you drew in a breath again. “Mingyu…” you called after his tongue swirled around your swollen clit. “Do that again,” you asked, your tone whiny and pathetic.

He did not skip a second before doing a figure-eight motion with the tip of his tongue, and again. And again. You wondered if you would come before he grew tired, but then you realized that he was not stopping, nor faltering.

You propped half of your body on the mattress, letting your eyelids fall shut for a brief moment, focusing on his tongue teasing your clit relentlessly. You caressed his long dark hair, drawing his puppy eyes to yours. “I’m almost there,” you choked out, your limbs tensing in response.

“God, Gyu,” you tilted your head back, a tiny giggle escaping you. “You’re so good at this,” you whispered aloofly.

Your fingers curled in his hair, feeling like you were falling, sinking into a puddle of pleasure. Arousal and drool dripped on the covers of the bed as the tension in your body brimmed you to the point you were shaking.

“Min-mingyu,” you choked out, so close to the edge you could barely hold out. “I’m coming, I’m coming, I’m co-,” your orgasm rippled through you, body going limp with sweet pleasure, shaking, and whimpering pathetically.

He placed one final open kiss on your clit before rising from the floor, a satisfied look on his face. “Shorty?” he mumbled.

“I’m good,” you gasped dazedly.

“Want more?” he asked, climbing back on top of you.

“I need you,” you cupped his neck, pulling him into a fervent kiss. You tasted yourself in his mouth, his chin wet with your arousal, making your walls throb around nothing. “I need you now.”

That brought a wolfish grin from him. “How do you want me, baby?”

“Lie down,” you breathed, finding his hard chest with your hands.

You knew it was incredibly hard to push his body, but somehow you did. Pushing his broad shoulders as you managed to get on top of him again, but this time, as you were both utterly naked in your bed, it felt completely different.

“Oh god,” he blurted, his hands gripping your hips instantly as you lowered your ass to sit on him.

“You were amazing,” you husked, placing a chaste kiss on his lips that resounded with a lewd smacking noise.

His fingers dug into the skin of your hips in reaction to your praise, groaning as he captured your lips with his own again.

“Do you have a condom?” you asked, your tone weakened by the pleasure and the urge of feeling him.

He blinked for one long second. “No,” he rasped. “Do you?”

You shook your head. “I could suck you off,” you mumbled meekly, your gaze shifting between his eyes and lips. “But I’m on birth control.”

“I’m clean,” he mumbled. Your heart deflated just a little.

“I want you, Min,” you whispered, brushing his lower lip with the pad of your thumb.

A silent groan escaped him. “Please,” he replied in kind. “I want to feel you, baby. Now.”

The sound of his words emboldened you. You sat back on his thick thighs, once you straddled him you realized how big Kim Mingyu actually was. You raked the skin of his torso with the tips of your fingers, making him suck in a breath and shut his eyes close.

“Don’t tease me, please,” he choked out, kneading the flesh of your thighs. “Play later, baby.”

The whiny tone of his plea did not go unnoticed by you, but you kept caressing his skin, exploring it under the pads of your fingers until you reached his pelvis. Mingyu was well groomed, you found out when you grazed the short hairs with your index finger.

“Please,” he breathed, a hand shooting to circle your ankle.

“Alright,” you giggled.

You grabbed his hard cock with one hand, swallowing hard when you felt his soft skin, the thin vein trailing on the underside of his thick shaft. It was heavy and warm as you pumped him, spreading the precum leaking from its reddened tip.

Lifting your hips, your gaze locked on his, he trapped his lower lip behind his teeth, you guided his cockhead to your folds, a moan bubbling in your chest when his hands gripped you tighter. Mingyu sucked in a breath, swallowing a deep moan as you sank down on him.

“God,” you sighed, tears brimming in your eyes at the euphoric sensation of his cock stretching your walls deliciously.

But none of you broke eye contact, much as if neither wanted to miss the reactions you got from feeling each other.

“Fuck,” he whined once you bottomed out on him with a moan from your part. He closed his eyes, shuddering hard underneath you, his hands lingered on your hips, kneading your thighs as if that helped him cling to sanity.

“Okay?” you whispered.

“God, you…” he sighed, licking his lips. “You feel like heaven, baby.”

You smiled at him. “How long have you gone without getting fucked?” the question flew out of your mouth before you could even stop yourself.

“A while,” he admitted with a raspy tone.

You gave him a smile, before you anchored your hands on his chest, pulling your hips up, and then pressed them back onto his, feeling every naked inch of him. Your mouth fell open. “You’re so big,” you gasped.

“Am I hurting you?” he whispered.

You shook your head, though the stretch had stopped hurting, you were enjoying it. You tucked your feet beneath you, propping them on his thighs to help yourself angle your hips on top of him. “Okay?” you asked again, riding him slowly.

“Perfect,” he replied, lifting his hands to cup your tits while his eyes explored every curve of your body.

You moaned, his fingers toyed with your pebbled nipples, making your hips buckle. “God, Mingyu…” you sighed, picking up the pace on top of him, enjoying the glazed look on his face.

“Fuck,” he gritted, pushing his head back on your fluffy pillows. “I’m gonna come. Baby, I’m g-gonna come.”

By pure instinct, you lifted your hips from his completely, making him sigh heavily but did not complain. You laughed impishly at the frown setting on his face.

“Please! Please, don’t stop, baby,” he whined, his hands clutching your waist. “I can keep going… just let me come, please. I need it.”

Oh, you could become addicted to this. You quickly realized.

You conceded without more begging from his part, sinking down on his cock again. Mingyu let out a long, whiny moan, shuddering when you started bouncing on him again. You leaned forward, managing to trap his lips with your own in a heated kiss. He hummed in your mouth, his hands roaming on your back.

“Fuck, baby,” he gasped. “I swear, you feel like nothing else baby.”

You moaned, feeling your eyebrows pinch involuntarily. “You’re close, Min?” you asked, your tone going sweet and velvety for some reason.

“Yeah,” he whispered. “Don’t edge me again, please.”

“Okay,” you giggled. “Wanna come inside me, Min?” you brushed his long dark hair back.

You caught sight of awe shooting on the features of his face. “Ye-yeah,” he breathed. “Please, please I’m so close, baby…”

You left a small peck on his lower lip, bouncing on him gently. “Come inside me, Mingyu,” you whispered.

“Oh god,” he gasped, grabbing your hips, helping you ground on him at the speed he needed to find his release, which came quickly, making him squeeze his eyes shut for a second before finding your eyes. “Baby, I’m coming, fuck, fuuuuuck…”

His mouth parted, a sharp intake of breath resounding across the walls right before a raspy moan came out of his pretty lips. The sight was so alluring that you feared the image would never leave your mind, you knew it would haunt you every night.

His grip became limp, and you stopped swaying your hips on him, kissing his lips as he came down from his high.

“Don’t stop,” he breathed, finding your thigh with one hand, then the other, caressing your ass before he motioned you to continue moving on him.

“Mingyu-,”

“I told you, shorty,” he said, showing you a lazy grin. “I can keep going.”

An ecstatic feeling rushed through you.

“It’s okay, Mingyu,” you said. “I’m good.”

“I want you to come,” he muttered, his voice thickened and gruff by arousal. “Do you want me to help you come, baby?”

“I- yes,” you sighed. “God, yes, Mingyu.”

Mingyu nodded, grabbing your hips as he shifted on the bed, planting the soles of his feet on the mattress to lift his hips, fucking into you, his cock reached deeper inside your walls, and deeper. A whiny cry escaped your mouth, your hands flying to grab onto his shoulders.

“Mingyu!”

Then he started plowing into you, the sound of skin slapping against skin becoming louder, impossible for the whole neighborhood to ignore. The headboard banged against the wall, mattress creaking with each of Mingyu’s hard thrusts.

He gritted his teeth, his eyes lost on the features of your face as you wailed, and cried out on top of him, nearing your sweet release.

“Fuck, fuck, Mingyu, I’m coming, I’m coming,” you cried out, a low whiny moan escaping you as you reached your second orgasm. This one was fiery, consuming you fast and mercilessly. Mingyu grunted, and you knew just by the fucked out look on his face that he was coming with you but kept fucking into you through your high, dumping his second load inside you.

You were panting, shaking, languid with pleasure as he lowered his hips back on your bed again, reaching out for you by putting a hand on the back of your head, prompting you to lie on his chest.

“You’re okay?” he asked with a sigh.

“Yeah, yes,” you breathed raggedly. “Perfect. You?”

Mingyu chuckled, wrapping his heavy arms around you in a warm embrace. “Perfect.”

You closed your eyes, ignoring the alarming voices in your head.

There was a thing you were certain of: you were playing with fire. But you wanted him, even if that also meant that you wanted to make him forget his broken heart. You wanted to ease his pain.

“We need to clean up,” you said, lifting your head from his chest.

Mingyu smiled, brushing your hair, tucking it behind your ear with his fingers. “Can’t we stay like this for a minute?” he said with a lazy drawl.

“Okay,” you whispered, leaning down on his chest again.

You listened to his heartbeat, caressing his chest with one hand. You smiled.

“What?” he asked, hearing your tiny giggle.

“Will you accept that ramen now?” you asked.

Mingyu chuckled, his eyes lighting up. “Yeah, I think I will.”

The following Sunday rolled around and you did not go to the bar this time, feeling like it was a little too soon to see Mingyu again after the night he spent at your place. And thankfully, you did not feel hollow for once, even as you sat quietly in your apartment.

That was until the loud buzzing of your phone broke the perpetual stillness of the living room.

[8:40 PM] min: Are you free tomorrow? [8:40 PM] min: Can I come over to yours? [8:40 PM] min: I can't stop thinking about you.

That drew a big smile out of you. You replied in an instant, letting him know that he could come to yours, sealing the deal with Mingyu, whom you never thought would make you feel something real again.

☆ author's note: hi there! (⁠•⁠ө⁠•⁠)⁠♡

don't hate shorty for her actions, she had to take risks lol. she is a hot ass mess but give my girl a chance, she'll get better (✿◠‿◠) this fic is lowkey inspired by the song two weeks by fka twigs and my personal life experience

the journey of this fic is. . . kind of long. i started drafting this fic back in december 2023. i originally intended it to be a one shot, only focusing on the rebound aspect. but for some reason i couldn't get myself to write it and then. . . my ex partner and i broke up after years of being together. i kind of understood why i couldn't write this fic. and so here it is.

not me oversharing on tumblrdotcom oh well you could practically see into my soul in all my fics, c'est la vie haha

also my general taglist is a mess so,

IF YOU WANT TO BE TAGGED FOR THIS SERIES, PLEASE COMMENT ON THIS CHAPTER, PUT IT ON YOUR REBLOG TAGS OR SEND ME AN ASK PLEEEEASE PRETTY PLS OR, JOIN MY TAGLIST

anyways,

toodles

☆ READ PART II! ☆ | JOIN MY TAGLIST | BUY ME COFFEE? ♡

2K notes · View notes

fl04tingcl0uds · 4 months ago

Note

*They smile, a big smile, their cheeks going a little darker blue as they play with their hair and begin.*

“Oh yeah, she’s great.. her name is Enarete.. She was one of the first few Aeolian winds on the island.. she’s.. so awesome..”

*They look like they’re gonna melt, their entire face a deep blueish-purple.*

“Oh.. hey dad..? Did I ever tell you about how I have a wife?”

He spat out the wine he was drinking, the room seemed to quiet a bit for... some reason.

"No... no, you did NOT."

DAMN.

#⚡️▪︎《thunder bringer》▪︎⚡️#the one whom floats!~☁️#keep your friends close!~ 🩵#twisting and turing—let’s play a game!~🌀

11 notes · View notes

wonyology · 1 month ago

Text

Blueprints Of Us

(m!reader x IVE's WONYOUNG) - part I

part II - part III - part IV - part V (finished)

masterlist

Summary: A heartbroken architect. An ambitious girl. They didn't know each other existed - until the day they met in Hong Kong. What began as a pleasant encounter slowly turns into something neither of them planned: a connection, and perhaps... a new beginning.

Tags(?): fluff, post heartbreak stuff, wony being beautiful, i don't even know man

WONYOUNG x yourself/Original Male Character

Word count: ~10k - big shoutout to @stewpidcheescatarinabluu for the hong kong suggestion, i tried something new this time so... hopefully u guys like it. also, i know nothing about architect. as always, enjoying reading!

✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧

Incheon International Airport

It was 11:00PM, you sat quietly at Gate 21, the ice americano in your hand somehow tasted really bland now. Too bland. The terminal was quiet, not the peaceful quiet kind - just empty. A few other passengers sat scattered across the rows of seats, some half asleep, others just looked dead inside, just like you. You weren’t in a rush since your flight to Hong Kong wouldn’t board for another 40 minutes. Moments like these just sucked somehow.

You scrolled through your phone again. Nothing to check, Just the usual emails from work, maybe too many unread group chats that you didn’t even bother to open in days, and that message - still sitting on top of your Kakao like it was waiting for you to accept the truth.

[내지민이🩵]

(My Jiminie🩵)

im sorry oppa

let’s not keep dragging this out

you know we’ve been over for a while

You stared at it for a moment. No typing dots. No follow-up.

It was from your now ex-girlfriend, Jimin - Yu Jimin, your hoobae from SNU. You met on campus, she was in Interior Design and you were finishing up your architecture degree. She was popular - the looks, the bright energy, the bubbly personality, she had it all. People noticed her. A lot of guys chased after her. But somehow, she’d only looked at you. She was the one who confessed first - bold, smiling, a little nervous. You still remembered the way she’d asked if you always looked that serious, even when the sky looked nice. Somehow you’d ended up together. For almost 2 years. At one point, Jimin was even talking about moving in together. But… it hadn’t been good for a while. She said she’d been tired and you had no better excuse than ‘I’ve been busy’. You weren’t cheating. You weren’t lying. You loved her too much for that.

But last night - the look in Jimin’s eyes told you she was serious. You got down your knees in the middle of the street, apologizing and begging her for one last chance with tears in your eyes. You never thought you’d ever be that desperate, pleading guy in a drama. You never really begged for anything before. But last night, you begged for her. Jimin cried too, but she still walked away. No yelling, no accusations. She said it hurt too much to keep this relationship alive. She didn’t hate you but she couldn’t survive loving you like this anymore.

You cried too. Harder than you ever had. So much that you weren’t even sure if you could make it to Hong Kong today. But somehow you managed.

Your studio, DPR, was young but quickly gained a reputation for its thoughtful and unique design. It was catching attention, even getting shortlisted for awards in the recent months. You’d joined it after graduating from SNU - one of their only rare junior hires as the team started expanding. The founder - your boss, Yu Barom, was only in his late 30s - maybe a bit young for his field but respected by many for his work. There was something easy about talking with him - not quite a mentor, more of a close friend. He noticed the shift in you for the past few months but he never pushed. When a partner in Hong Kong invited your studio to consult on a small renovation project, he offered it to you.

“Take the job, Haejoon-ah.” he said. “Explore Hong Kong a bit, maybe get lost for a few days. Might help.”

You knew it wasn’t about the project. Still, you were thankful for the chance - not just for work but also for his understanding behind it. You were still lost in that thought when the boarding announcement echoed through the terminal. Well… enough sadness. It was time to get your shit together and board the plane.

Somewhere in the sky, you found yourself staring out the window, watching Korea disappear into clouds. Becoming an architect was never really something you planned - maybe not at first. But you were good with your hands, better with space than words and building things just felt like the one thing you could make sense of the world around you. You weren’t from money, nothing was ever handed to you easily. But you worked your way up, maybe got lucky along the way - through school, through military service, through sleepless nights at SNU until you ended up here. Thirty years old. Employed straight after university, luckily, in this economy. Respected. And still somehow feeling like something or maybe someone was missing in your life.

The next few days passed in a blur - full of site visits, meetings and late night drafts. The renovation project wasn’t anything massive - just a quiet redesign of a small hotel tucked along Sheung Wan. The work culture in Hong Kong was a bit fast paced but nothing you couldn’t keep up with. You spent your days listening, observing and sketching like you always did. Hong Kong was packed but beautiful, chaotic and sharp-edged in a way Seoul wasn’t.

A bit like that game, Sleeping Dogs. Minus the kungfu part. Underrated game.

Until that day, your early meeting had been canceled and you decided to wander around with no purpose, letting the city carry you away. At some point, you ended up at Tsim Sha Tsui harbor, the scenery looked exactly like those in the 90s Hong Kong movies. And there, tucked at the end of the Star Ferry Pier was a clean, minimalist cafe. You’d seen a bunch of those cafes before. Clean concrete, soft wood counters, art gallery vibes. A cup of coffee won’t hurt. But damn, Hong Kong was fucking expensive. You wandered near the window to calm yourself down while watching the world move. The bitterness hit a bit but you didn’t mind. Not there for the coffee anyway.

Then she walked in. She took your breath the moment she got into your vision. She was wearing a matching cream and navy stripes crochet set. The cropped cardigan clung lightly to her shoulders, unbuttoned to show the black top underneath. Her high waisted shorts helped compliment her long legs, making her already tall frame even more attractive. Her long hair was braided over one shoulder, giving her look a retro but not too old fashioned vibe. A thin choker with a small pendant was wrapped around her neck, and those earrings just made her look so elegant and rich. But the main point of her look was the glasses. She walked in while adjusting them - casual but confident, like she knew people were watching her. She looked like she’d just stepped out of a fashion magazine. She ordered in English, voice soft but confident? Sounded a bit American? Tourist?

You didn’t really care at first, not until she ran into trouble while paying. Her card wasn’t going through. She shifted awkwardly and laughed it off with the barista then muttered something out of frustration. In Korean, loud enough for you to hear.

“아 뭐야, 또 왜 이래…?”

(What the hell, again…?)

Korean!

Before you could think of anything else, you stood up and walked to the counter, phone already in hand.

“It’s ok. I’ll pay for her.” you said in English - more confident than you thought.

She turned, blinking in surprise.

“Oh no! Please, you don’t have to…” in English again.

You shook head slightly and switched back to Korean.

“I’m Korean, too. It’s fine.”

She hesitated for a second then offered a small bow with a tint of pink on her cheeks.

“Ah… thank you so much. Really.” voice now relieved. “I didn’t expect to run into a Korean here.”

“Me neither.” you offered a small smile.

She took her drink from the counter then just stood there clutching her cup of coffee with both hands for a moment. She wasn’t moving away. Her eyes flickered around the cafe then landed back on you.

Shit… she’s so beautiful.

You glanced at an empty table near the window.

“Do you… want to sit with me?” you asked, hoping you didn’t sound too desperate.

“Ah-umm…” she was caught off guard for a second, eyes dropping to her drink then back to you. Then she let out a soft laugh.

“I mean… yeah. Sure.”

The both of you moved to sit down, she carefully placed her cup of coffee before adjusting her cardigan slightly. You noticed how she kept tucking those few strands of her behind her ear, like she was nervous of something. Neither of you said anything for a moment.

“I swear I’m not usually this clumsy.” she finally spoke first, the corners of her lips curling slightly.

“No, you’re doing fine.” you smiled.

She nodded, taking a sip of coffee before smiling again.

“...Can I ask for your name?” her voice was a bit more confident now. “Feels weird just saying ‘thank you’ to a stranger.”

You chuckled under your breath.

“Yeah, it’s true. I’m Haejoon. Han Haejoon. And you?”

“I’m Jang Wonyoung.”

“Nice name. It suits you a lot.” you meant it.

There was a beat. Then she tilted her head, slightly blushing.

“Can I ask how old are you, Haejoon-ssi? Just… you know. So we know how to talk.”

You smiled.

“I’m thirty, in Korean age. International… twenty nine.”

“I’m twenty two, so… Oppa?” she replied immediately, her eyes were sparkling - like she was testing you, waiting for a reaction.

Fuck.

You coughed. Only once. Just enough to embarrass yourself. You then looked down at your coffee like it suddenly needed your attention.

“That’s fine. I mean, if you’re comfortable with that…”

You scratched the back of your neck.

“Or not. I don’t… mmm, whatever works best for you.”

She laughed - really laughed this time, covering her mouth with two hands. She was clearly enjoying how flustered you got.

“You’re really shy for someone who just rescued me with a cup of coffee, oppa.” she teased.

You raised one eyebrow, trying to recover.

“Yeah, well. Confidence is situational sometimes.”

Wonyoung took another sip of her drink, eyes quietly scanning you from head to toe then landing back on your eyes.

“You don’t look like a tourist, oppa.” she said, tilting her head. “Are you living here?”

You shook your head. “No, I’m here for work. A short project.”

She nodded slowly, fingers playing with her cup.

“I thought so. You look like you just stepped out of a meeting or something.”

You glanced at yourself - slightly dark tailored suit, the shirt still stiff from rushing in the morning.

“Too obvious?” you asked, smirking.

“A little.” she grinned. “But in a good way. Sharp. Clean hairstyle. Professional. Korean vibe, definitely.”

“Thanks… I think.”

She covered her laugh with her hands again. Feminine. Effortless. Drawing you right in.

“Where do you live in Korea, oppa?” her tone still playful but curious.

“Uhm, Seoul.” you replied. “Mapo-gu side. Not too far from Yeonnam-dong.”

“No way. I live over there too. Right on the edge of Yeonnam, close to Mangwon market.” she gasped a bit.

“Really?” you blinked.

“Um, my friends and I are actually planning to open a floral studio somewhere around that area.”

You leaned back, surprised but kind of amused.

“That’s fairly close.”

“Fate?” she teased.

“Are you stalking me or something?” you narrowed your eyes, taking a risky shot.

Wonyoung gasped, clearly playing it for effect.

“Oh no… I’ve been caught. I guess I’ll have to find a new victim.”

You laughed, shaking your head.

“Nah, you don’t look like the criminal type.”

She sipped her drink with a small smile. “That’s how we criminals get you.”

You leaned forward a little, resting your forearms on the table.

“Floral Studio? Is that your full time job?”

She pouted her lips a bit before answering.

“Kind of. Maybe not yet. I just finished school a few months ago. Took a break to travel around with my friends before… you know, real life hits.”

“Graduated from?”

“Ewha” she replied. “Fine Arts. I focused on stuff like fabric theory or styling but ended up falling in love with floral work along the way. I guess it also makes sense because I’ve liked it since I was a kid.”

“Floral work… Like not exactly a florist but arrangements and stuff?” you hummed.

Wonyoung nodded, swirling her coffee around.

“Yup, like styling, visual work… Maybe it sounds a bit corny but I like how flowers can change the vibe of a place. I did a few stuff with bridal studios, concept shops, even a magazine shoot, once. I guess it just clicked along the way.”

You leaned back again, amazed.

“So not a shop that only sells flowers.”

She smiled.

“Definitely not that. I don’t just want to sell flowers. I want to create spaces and atmosphere that bring memories or scent to people. Does that even make sense?”

“Actually, yeah. It does.” you gave her a small nod, impressed.

There was a brief pause before she spoke up again.

“I don’t know if it’ll work yet,” she said, looking down at her cup then back at you. “But we’re giving it a shot.”

“And ‘we’ is…?”

“My friends. Two of them. We’ve been dreaming about it for a long time now. I’m actually traveling around Hong Kong with them right now.”

“That’s brave. Really.”

Wonyoung smiled at your words, cheeks faintly pink - then she suddenly looked away and pressed her lips into her cup before speaking up again.

“Why did I just overshare like that?” she mumbled. “I don’t usually talk this much with people I just met.”

“It’s okay. I don’t mind. It was nice to hear.”

She glanced at you from under her lashes, a little flustered. Then, she straightened.

“Anyway. What about you, oppa? What’s your job? Besides saving girls with card problems and drinking coffee at expensive places.”

“I’m an architect.” you let out a soft laugh, shaking your head.

“Ah, called it.” her eyes lit up.

“You guessed?” you blinked.

“Nice tailored suit. Clean look. Sharp eyes. You’re either an architect or a rich guy who works in finance. Or IT.”

You raised a brow. “Are you always this observant?”

“Only when I’m bored.” she smiled again, this time relaxed.

Then she paused, eyes narrowing.

“Wait. If you think I’m that observant… guess my MBTI, oppa.”

You let out a quiet laugh.

“We’re moving on to MBTI already?”

“It’s fun, oppa. Every Korean has to do this. C’mon, one guess.” she said, leaning in.

You studied Wonyoung for a second. Confident posture. Confident speech. The way she caught herself oversharing but owned it anyway. Stylish. So goddamn beautiful, too.

“You gotta be an E…”

Her eyes sparkled a bit.

“EN… No, ES… ESTJ.”

Her mouth dropped open.

“How?

“Confident. Bright energy. I’d say organized but a bit dramatic. The good kind. I’d say stylish too but that doesn’t really count in MBTI.” you just smiled, taking a sip of your coffee like it was obvious.

I got a bit lucky too, Wonyoung-ah.

Wonyoung squinted at you.

“Okay, wait. That’s scary. I’m an actual ESTJ.”

“I’m good, right? Got it on the first try.”

“I’m suspicious now.” she said, narrowing her eyes playfully. “Do you just study MBTIs in your free time?”

“Nope. An architect’s instinct. I worked with many different types of people too.”

She smiled. “Alright, my turn. Let me guess yours.”

You leaned back, enjoying her presence.

Wonyoung’s lips slightly pursed in thought.

“You’re definitely not an E. Too calm. Quiet but not too awkward. You seem like you hate small talk but… listen well. Hmm..”

Here’s your chance.

You saw your chance and went right for it.

“Maybe I do hate small talk.” you said, your voice steady.

“Just… not with you, apparently.”

Smooth.

Wonyoung’s eyes widened just a bit - not expecting that. She blinked then let out a lovely laugh, flustered but pulling her hands up to cover her face.

“...Wow, okay.”

“That was smooth, oppa. You don’t really seem like the flirty type.”

You shrugged, a faint smirk playing at the corner of your mouth.

“No, I’m not. Also, confidence is situational, remember?”

Wonyoung shook her head, laughing into her hands for a second before finally lowering them again. Her cheeks were a soft shade of pink, eyes still amused.

“I swear, if this is how you talk to every girl you meet…”

You raised both your hands in defense.

“I swear on my architect degree, from SNU - you’re the first.”

Wonyoung blinked.

“Wait. Seoul National University?”

You nodded.

“No way.” she stared at you for a second, genuinely taken aback.

“Why? Is that surprising?” you smiled, a little unsure.

“Yeah, that’s like the SNU. Our country’s top school so… you must be something yourself.”

You chuckled, shy now.

“Well… yeah. It wasn’t easy.”

She shook her head slowly, lips parting a little.

“That’s seriously impressive, oppa. I’m kind of… wow. No wonder you’re all quiet and mysterious.”

You laughed under your breath.

“Mysterious? That’s a first.”

“You’ve got that hidden backstory energy, oppa. Do you like, build buildings and stuff?” she asked, sipping her drink.

You smiled at her wording.

“Not exactly. I don’t physically go out with a hammer, if that’s what you’re picturing. I design them. Sometimes interior stuff too.”

Wonyoung laughed, covering her smile again with her hand - a habit you were finding endearing. But it was her eyes that got you. The way they shut lightly when she smiled or laughed, crinkling just a bit at the corner - genuine. Soft. Like the kind of laugh that showed she wasn’t pretending with you. You didn’t mean to stare, but you did. Just a bit longer than you should have.

“Do I have something on my face, oppa?”

“Nothing… Uh, your eyes look pretty when you laugh.”

She paused, her ears turning pink.

“...Well, that’s nice of you to say that.”

You were now aware of how warm your face felt too.

“I mean, it’s true.”

You leaned back slightly, gaze drifting toward the window before returning to Wonyoung. An awkward pause before you spoke.

“Anyway… yeah. I’m taking the architectural license exam this August. And then two other stages… at the end of the year. Then if things go well, I will finally be a licensed architect.”

“Hmm… that’s a big deal, isn’t it?” Wonyoung blinked, clearly impressed.

“It’s… a long time coming.”

“That’s amazing,” her voice sounded so genuine. “Like, really impressive. You must’ve worked so hard for this.”

You shrugged. Wonyoung’s words hit deeper than you expected. She then leaned forward, resting her chin in one hand with her eyes on you.

“I don’t know. There’s something really attractive about people who build things. Like it’s not just work… Care, thought, vision…”

You let her words settle in the space, trying to figure out what this beautiful girl is trying to do. Then she tilted her head slightly with her chin still resting in her palm.

“Wait… can I ask you something a bit random?”

“Sure.” you replied, curious.

“Did you do your military service already? Or are you one of those guys who contribute something big to the country and get exempt status?”

You laughed, it did catch you off guard a little.

“I’m not that lucky. I did mine right after high school.”

“Wow, so you got it out of the way early.” her eyes widened a bit.

“So if someone dates you now, oppa… They don’t have to worry about you disappearing for two years?”

“That’s one way to… put it.” you said with a low laugh. “Guess I’m low risk that way.”

She nodded, like she was seriously considering it.

“Good to know.”

A short pause came again. Wonyoung glanced at you, down at her coffee, swirling around for a bit. Then she spoke with her eyes still on the cup - quieter this time.

“Umm… can I have your number, oppa?”

She peeked up at you, her tone casual but her cheeks a little pink.

“Just in case I need to repay you for the coffee. Or, you know… if you feel like talking again.”

You smiled - couldn’t help it.

“Sure,” you said while pulling out your phone. “I’d love to meet you again.”

She took your phone gently, fingers moving quickly as she typed something in.

“Oh - do you want my Instagram too, oppa?” she asked, glancing up with a slight tilt of her head. “Just in case Kakao feels too formal.”

“Sure. Just head into the app and follow your account.” you chuckled.

She did exactly that, tapping around before handing it back to you. You looked at the contact name and had to bite a laugh back.

워녕이녕이🐰

(Wonyoungie🐰)

“A bunny?” you asked.

She looked smug, proud of herself.

“People say I look like one.”

“Hmm, accurate.”

You barely had time to glance up when two other girls walked in - both stylish, maybe around Wonyoung’s age, laughing about something between them. One girl spotted her first.

“Wonyoung-ah!”

Wonyoung turned, eyes lighting up.

“Oh, unnie. Here!”

But then, the other girl’s gaze shifted to you - and paused. Recognition ran straight to your brain instantly.

“Haejoon-oppa?”

“Yena?”

✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧

The four of you ended up at the same table, drinks in hands. Yena sat between you and Wonyoung, occasionally throwing glances your way, while Hyewon, her other friend, chimed in now and then with curiosity.

Yena and you had always had a nice relationship - playful jabs, easy conversation and banter, which was easy when you did military service with her older brother years ago. She’d seen you through highs and lows. Wonyoung seemed both surprised and amused - not uncomfortable. If anything, she looked a little more relaxed now, sipping her coffee as conversations bounced around. Then, in a moment when the other two were distracted, Yena leaned in closer to you while lowering her voice.

“Oppa… are you cheating on Jimin in Hong Kong?”

You froze a bit, the question hitting harder than it should’ve. You absolutely forgot about Jimin when Wonyoung got here. Which was incredible - considering Jimin was on your mind 24/7 ever since you landed in Hong Kong.

“No.” you swallowed once. “We broke up like almost two weeks ago.”

Yena’s brow lifted. “Really?”

You nodded slowly.

“Just before I left for Hong Kong. She didn’t tell anyone yet, I guess.”

She leaned back slightly, eyes scanning your face, maybe she was trying to figure out if you were serious or you were considering cheating on Jimin with the girl sitting next to her. You met Yena’s gaze. You weren’t in the mood to defend yourself - especially when things already ended the way it did.

“Damn. I’m sorry.” her voice genuine, a mix of apology and shock.

“I mean… it hadn’t been good for a while.”

Yena didn’t press further. She just nodded the turned back toward the others, tone shifting back to light as if nothing just happened. Then, you felt Wonyoung glancing at you - her gaze was curious. She hadn’t heard the exchange. But something told you she noticed the shift in your face. And you weren’t sure if that made you uneasy or a little more drawn to her.

How did I forget about Jimin so easily when you got here?

The conversation drifted back into easier topics - the weather, their trip, stuff in Hong Kong. You stayed mostly quiet, letting the girls talk, sipping your coffee while catching Wonyoung’s gaze looking at you now and then. Then, Yena suggested, casually.

“Oh, oppa. We’re going to eat somewhere at those skyline places tonight. Wanna come?”

Wonyoung looked at you. Her lips pressed like she was trying not to smile but the tiniest spark lit up in her eyes. She didn’t say anything right away, but the others knew.

You looked at Hyewon.

“Are you sure?”

She just smiled and shrugged, totally chill.

“It’s fine, oppa. More people, more food.”

Yena raised an eyebrow at you, half a smirk on her face - clearly excited.

“Soooo?”

Your gaze turned to Wonyoung, who now was clearly staring right at you.

“Umm… yeah, I’m in.”

✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧

You sat on your bed in the nice hotel room that Barom booked for you, studio money - crazy money by the way. You were still in your suit, tie slightly loosened now. A lot went through your mind after you left the cafe. For some reason, you didn’t want to be alone with your thoughts for too long. Like usual, you tapped into your contacts and hit call on your favorite person whenever you were in a situation like this

[다빈형] (Dabin-hyung)

He picked up on the third ring.

“Uh. You alive over there? In lovely Hong Kong?”

“Barely.” you let out a breath, tired. “Also, hyung, are you on the toilet?”

“I’m efficient with my time, man.” he said, completely unbothered. “What’s up? You miss me or are you in trouble right now?”

You rubbed your face. “No, not really.” “Got time to walk around Hong Kong yet? You’ve been there for like one, two weeks?”

“Barely.”

“Site visits killed you already?”

“Nope, not that.” you lied back on the back, staring at the ceiling.

“I met someone today.”

There was a short pause. Then a groan came from the other line.

“Damn… Don’t tell me you fell in love mid site visit like that. Is she from Hong Kong? Or is it a he? Wait… is it a he?”

“Hyung, shut up. It’s not like that. I just… I don’t know. I feel weird.”

“What kind of weird?”

You hesitated.

“Good weird, I think... Bad timing.”

“You thinking about her again?” Dabin hummed knowingly.

You didn’t even have to mention who her was.

“I forgot about Jimin today,” you said. “Just… like completely forgot. The second this girl walked in.”

“Is she from Hong Kong?”

“Uh… no, from Korea. Seoul. Lives near Yeonnam-dong too. Super weird.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, I’m not kidding.”

“She’s traveling with her two friends. One of them is a close friend of mine, I enlisted with her brother at the same time.”

“That’s really weird.”

“Yeah, but this girl… She’s bubbly, cute, beautiful… said she’s about to open a floral studio with her friends. There’s something about her, flirty but just enough. She… uh.” you trailed off, suddenly self conscious.

“She called me oppa like five minutes after meeting me. I swear, hyung, my brain just shut off right there.”

A snort came from the other line.

“Jesus Christ. You’re down bad.” he said, his American accent popping off.

“I’m not, hyung.”

“You are, Haejoon-ah. You forgot your ex for hours because the way a pretty stranger said oppa sounded so sweet. That’s not normal, at least for you.”

You groaned, dragging a hand over your face.

“I’m just… confused, okay? I didn’t plan for this.”

“No one plans to fall in love in foreign land, Haejoon-ah. It just happens.”

You laughed, maybe at yourself.

“She’s different, hyung. She’s bold but sweet, confident but also shy. She actually listened when I talked about my architecture license exam - like, really listened.”

“Huh… that’s a first. You rant for hours about this and it always scares women off.”

“C’mon, man.”

A beat passed, then Dabin’s voice softened.

“Look, I get it. You’re in a weird place - post breakup, in Hong Kong, maybe tired from all the work. But it feels ok to feel something, even if you don’t know what it is yet. Just overthink it too much.”

You closed your eyes for a second.

“I’m having dinner with them tonight.”

“Already? I thought you’re shy and all.”

“No, not like that. Yena’s there. Our mutual friend. She invited me.”

“And you said yes.”

You hesitated. “Well… yeah.”

“Good.” he sounded satisfied.

“At worst, free dinner and maybe a decent view. At best, you get a second chance at romance.”

You didn’t reply to him right away.

“Maybe I’m her type.” you added under your breath.

“The way she talked to me… you know.”

Another snort.

“You’re so screwed.”

You stayed quiet for a second, and he didn’t let that slide.

“Seriously, though - this is why you can’t do casual, Haejoon-ah. You were built to be a hopeless romantic.”

“I’m not-” you groaned.

“You are, dumbass.” he cut in, in English, then the latter part back in Korean.

“You look and act quiet all the time but deep down you want to be in love. You just won’t admit it.”

You turned around on the bed.

“She smiled so prettily, hyung.”

“Oh god.”

“I’m serious.”

“I know. That’s what makes this fun to watch.”

You smiled a little.

“Shut up and get out of the toilet, man.”

“Already did. I multitask really well.”

You shook your head.

“Anyway, thanks hyung.”

“Anytime, man. Don’t overthink stuff. You always do that. Wear something good and enjoy the dinner. You’ll be fine.”

“Yeah, I overthink a lot.”

“Yeah, go impress your floral girl. I’m out.”

And he hung up. You stayed there for a moment longer, staring at the ceiling again. Maybe you were really screwed. But you didn’t hate the feeling.

The steam still lingered faintly in the bathroom mirror when you stepped out of the shower. Were you nervous? Not too sure. You dried off and ran your hands through your hair and sprayed on a bit of cologne. Then you reached for the shirt - the striped Oxford you’d laid out before the shower. Clean lines, soft fabric. It slipped on easy, giving a casual but sharp vibe - yeah, you’d pulled this off before. You rolled the sleeves and went for the white trousers. Not quite clean fit but slightly wide legged, relaxed. Your shoes were black, polished, a little more formal but complimented the look well. Casual, comfortable, but presentable. Just the right line between effortless and intentional, you thought so.

You were reaching for your watch and glasses when your phone buzzed on the bed. It was Dabin.

[다빈형]

don’t chicken out man

just act like your normal self and you’ll be fine

You stared at the screen, lips twitching. Typical. You slid on your watch, put on the glasses and gave yourself one last look in the mirror. You didn’t forget to grab the wallet before reaching for the door.

Let’s see where the night goes.

The elevator doors slid open, and you stepped into what felt like another world. Hong Kong was really like those 90s movies, or even better. The restaurant wasn’t open air, it didn’t need to be with this kind of view. Glasses stretched from floor to ceiling, wrapping around the entire dining space, revealing the Hong Kong skyline in its night glory. The scenery below shimmered like jewels, skyscrapers glowing in all kinds of colors as the city exhaled into the night. On the far side, Victoria Peak…is it Victoria Peak?... cast a quiet silhouette against the fading sunset. Inside, the lighting was soft and warm - elegant and expansive. It was decorated with polished floors and golden accents. Everything didn’t feel loud - just intentional, to emphasize that quiet luxury vibe. A curved bar hugged one side of the room. Every detail, from the wine bottles gleaming to the jazz music felt like it was designed to make you stay longer and spend more.

You scanned around the space - there they were. Near the window, seated at probably one of the best tables in the restaurant, Wonyoung along with Hyewon and Yena looked like they really belonged there. And next to Wonyoung, an empty seat was waiting for you. Here we go. You exhaled once, calming yourself before walking toward them.

Yena spotted you first as she lit up and raised one hand, half standing from her seat.

“Oppa! Over here.”

Hyewon turned and gave you a small, friendly wave.

Wonyoung looked up at you briefly then dropped her gaze with a small smile. A bit shy, maybe. You reached for the table. She was wearing a tweed mini-dress, the kind of clothing that looked straight out of a Milan runway but still fit her like it was custom made. Those golden sequin trimming sat at the collar, cuffs, and hem - giving her look a playful yet youthful, elegant vibe. It caught the warm restaurant lighting so well whenever she moved. Her hair was down, long and softly curled over one shoulder. Her bangs emphasized her features so well, giving her an almost doll like vibe. But it wasn’t just about the look. The way she carried herself - composed, like she was completely at ease in this kind of place.

This girl must come from royalty.

You found yourself smiling at Wonyoung before you even realized it.

“Sorry, I’m late.” you said, adjusting your watch out of habit. “Hong Kong traffic was insane.”

Yena scoffed dramatically.

“We were about to order without you, oppa.”

“Yah, you were not.” Hyewon added with a laugh, nudging Yena lightly.

Wonyoung didn’t say anything, fingers fiddling with her wine glass before looking up at you again.

“At least you made it.” she smiled.

You scratch the back of your neck out of habit.

“Yeah… wouldn’t want to miss the view,” you said, eyes flicking briefly to hers before quickly adding.

“I mean, the city - the skyline.”

Wonyoung looked like she was trying not to smile too much. You nodded towards the empty seat toward the empty seat beside her.

“This one mine?”

“Obviously, oppa.” Yena smirked. “Where else?”

You then carefully slid into the seat beside Wonyoung - close enough to catch the subtle perfume she wore, faint but lingering. Deadly. Her arm brushed lightly against yours as she shifted, and neither of you moved away too quickly.

“Glad you could make it.” she whispered loud enough for the two of you to hear.

You turned your head, this time not able to look her in the eyes.

“Me too. You look stunning by the way.”

That made her pause for just a short beat. Then her smile appeared - a little shy, a little warm.

“You don’t look too bad yourself, oppa.” Wonyoung tilted her head.

“That shirt looks really good on you.”

It was your turn to be shy, unsure whether to thank or deflect this time, but-

“So how’s Hong Kong treating you, oppa?” Yena cut in, her eyes glinting as she leaned across the table with her face in her palm. “Working hard? Or just pretending to?”

You exhaled, wasn’t even sure if you were thankful or disappointed with this vibe shift.

“Umm… both, I guess. It’s not a big project but we’re packing in as much as we can.”

“What’s the project again?” Hyewon asked, curious.

“A small hotel in Sheung Wan. Mostly renovation. Nothing massive but enough to keep me up the past few nights.”

Wonyoung gave you a knowing glance.

“Sounds like you don’t get enough sleep.”

The corner of your mouth was tugging upward.

“Yeah, well… comes with the job, I guess. Can’t really complain.”

She hummed softly in response - like she understood more than she let on.

“Still… I hope you get at least one good night here. Would be a waste otherwise.”

You glanced at her, something light but still meaningful passed between the two of you.

“Sooo” Yena cut in, eyes sharp with curiosity. “What’s it like back in Korea? Your job, I mean. You said your studio’s in Seoul, right?”

“Yeah,” you nodded. “It’s on Mapo-gu side. I got snapped up right after I finished the five year program, it was hell - honestly.”

“Architecture major?” Hyewon asked.

You nodded. “Yeah, SNU. Lucky enough to land the job straight out. The team’s pretty tight - a younger studio but we’ve been gaining attention lately. That’s why I can’t sleep these days.”

“Ooh, smart and stable.” Yena said with a fake dramatic tone. “Sounds like someone’s type.”

Wonyoung muttered something under her breath, half laughing.

You ignored the burning feeling on your ears and continued.

“The pay’s not insane, but good enough for me to afford a nice apartment, help my family and still have enough to save… or splurge once in a while. I’m taking the architect license exam this year so… hopefully better pay after that.”

“Help your family?” Hyewon repeated. “That’s really good of you.”

You nodded, now a little self conscious under the weight of their attention.

“I mean… they did a lot for me. Wouldn’t be here without them.”

Wonyoung gently traced the rim of her wine glass. The way she looked at you had changed. Warmer. Respectful, maybe. Enough to kill you.

“And what do you splurge on, oppa?” Yena swooped back in with a grin. “Don’t say boring stuff like books or anything like that.”

You chuckled.

“I mean… I bought a nice car off from a friend a year ago. Sometimes… travel, hobbies if I have time. And, you know - those dinners where my friends drag me out and the wine list has names I can’t even pronounce but I pretend anyway.”

That earned a laugh from Hyewon.

Wonyoung tilted her head.

“Ooh, red or white, oppa?”

You raised your eyebrows.

“I mean, they taste the same to me. Anything is fine, depends on the company.”

Wonyoung blinked before looking away at the Hong Kong skyline with a breathy laugh, tucking a lock of hair behind her ear like she was trying to compose herself.

“Oh, wow.” Yena muttered.

“You really are someone’s type.”

You looked down at your glass. You didn’t mean to put it like that. Whatever the case was, it lingered in the air between you and Wonyoung, even as Hyewon and Yena picked the conversation back up.

“Okay, we need food before I get drunk. Who’s hungry now?” Hyewon was already looking at the waiter.

You relaxed into your seat, feeling Wonyoung leaning closer to you. But neither of you pulled away.

By the time the food arrived, the atmosphere had settled into something warmer. Comfortable. It came with good drinks and beautiful Hong Kong city lights, with laughter spilling out between bites. You were swirling your wine glass absentmindedly, half listening to Yena and Hyewon debate over where to go after this. Then the conversation drifted again.

“So how was that spot you and Yena-unnie went to see? The one near the bookstore?” Hyewon turned to Wonyoung as she asked. Wonyoung’s face lit up instantly.

“Oh, it was actually so cute.” she said, nodding. “In Yeonnam-dong, not too big but the lighting’s really great. Especially in the afternoon.”

“And the outside looks beautiful too.” Yena added, grinning. “We were already planning a small coffee counter in front and Instagram photo spots.”

Hyewon looked impressed.

“You two were out there for like, what, over two hours?”

“Over one hour, unnie.” Wonyoung replied, smiling. “But we saw the vision.”

You looked between them, your architect side was genuinely intrigued now.

“Sounds like a solid location.”

“It is,” Wonyoung said, her voice certain. “We’ve been talking about this studio for so long, it finally feels like it’s happening.”

“We’re just basically waiting on the right person to help us design it,” Yena added, throwing glances your way.

Hyewon caught the way Yena looked at you and smirked. “You’re not even subtle now.”

You raised your eyebrows, not saying anything yet. Wonyoung, however, didn’t look away.

“We had someone before, but the timing didn’t work out. So…” she said, calm. “We’re open to new ideas.”

Then she tilted her head just slightly, her eyes meeting yours.

“Or maybe the right person’s already here.”

A short pause arrived at the table. You exhaled a small laugh, surprised but not at all opposed.

“That sounds a lot like a pitch.”

She smirked, smiling into her wine glass. You glanced down at your plate, suddenly a little more aware of how warm your face felt.

“I mean, I could show you guys some on the projects I’ve worked on. If you’re curious.”

Wonyoung looked up first.

“Really, oppa?”

“Yeah, I got a few files on my phone. Not all flashy, but solid enough.”

“Solid enough?” Yena said. “You’re underselling yourself, oppa.”

“I’m just saying.” you muttered, “They’re not exactly viral cafe material or anything.”

“Still.” Wonyoung said, her tone softer now. “We’d love to see them.”

Her gaze lingered, warm and steady. She really meant it.

“We’re serious.” she added. “Send them later. Or show us now if you want.”

You hesitated for half a second, then reached into your pocket and pulled out your phone, unlocking it with a swipe.

“...Okay. Just don’t expect an aesthetic Pinterest board.”

Yena immediately. “Don’t worry, oppa. We’re not like that.”

You opened an app and tapped into a folder you hadn’t shared with anyone in a while now - site photos, render stuff, construction shots and a few finished interior works. Some cafes, a private rooftop home renovation, even a small art gallery for a chaebol’s daughter tucked in some corner of Gangnam-gu, that project paid really well. All designed just the way you liked it.

The three of them scooted in without hesitation, gathering on your side of the table. Yena leaned over your right shoulder. Hyewon peered in from across the table, leaning closer to get a better look. And Wonyoung - she was right next to you, too close. You could smell her perfume again. Then, without warning, she shifted even closer and rested her chin or your shoulder, like it was nothing. You felt like you were clinically dead. Her fingers reached out for the cuff of your rolled up sleeve. She began fidgeting with the fabric - gently folding it up and down, smoothing it out like it needed her help. Like she knew she was clearly setting every nerve in your arm on fire. Your breath stopped for a moment and your heart felt like it forgot how to beat. No one else seemed to notice.

For the next fifteen minutes, the restaurant faded out. They asked about your lighting choices, space planning, even what kind of clients you dealt with.

“You can go into the other folder. There are more pictures…uh, easier to see how they turned out.” you said.

Wonyoung lifted her chin slightly and reached forward, tapping the screen.

“This one?”

“Yeah, that’s the finished shot.”

Her eyes scanned the photo, then she smiled - drawing you in.

“I like how you designed this space,” she pointed at a spot on the screen. “It feels like a nice touch. Like it’s lived in.”

And then - as if it was the most natural thing in the world - she replaced the hand that had been playing with your sleeves with the other one, letting her fingers drift along the back of your hand. She traced small circles there. You knew, she was actively trapping you with the gentlest, most casual touch in history.

She’s got you good now.

You didn’t even know how to feel anymore. She didn’t look at you but her fingers never stopped moving. Yena and Hyewon, on the other hand, were busy talking and discussing about how the design would fit into their studio - where the flower prep area could be, how much the light could control the whole space, how their storage area could be hidden. And then, Yena swiped one more time before pausing.

That photo. You were standing in the middle of a large gallery, dressed sharp and clean. On one side, Moon Seo-yoon - the chaebol’s daughter - radiant in a white jumpsuit. On the other side, her supermodel friend, Lee Gawon. Their arms hooked through yours and leaning a little too close to your shoulder, Gawon's face tilted toward yours like she had something to tell you.

Oh fuck. That wasn’t supposed to be in there.

“Wait, oppa.” Yena gasped. “Is that you?”

You cleared your throat, dreading this already.

“Uh, yeah, The small art gallery for the chaebol’s daughter I told you guys about a few minutes ago. That’s… uh, Moon Seo-yoon. The opening for her art gallery.”

Hyewon leaned in closer to confirm. “The Shinsegae girl?! You worked with her?”

“Uh… yeah,” you muttered, the wine glass suddenly looked so interesting.

Yena squinted at the screen. “Is that… Gawon?! The model Gawon?!”

You nodded slowly.

“Yeah, she’s friends with Seo-yoon. That was…kind of a last-minute invite.”

Yena let out a low whistle. “You really are in the higher society, oppa.”

“No, I’m not that kind of person. I just… work with them a lot.”

And just as you were mentally preparing for another disaster to strike, you felt Wonyoung’s fingers rhythm change - no more circles. She pinched the skin near your knuckle.

Once.

Twice.

Quick. Barely painful but somehow definitely felt too territorial. You turned your head slowly to look at her, your eyes wide. Wonyoung wasn’t looking at you - her face was perfectly neutral, like she was just watching Yena scrolling on the phone and nothing else. She nodded, playing along. You felt like she just claimed ownership of you in front of her two best friends. But her fingers returned to exactly where they were moments ago, this time resting against yours.

And then, just as your heart began to settle, Wonyoung launched another attack. You felt a soft pressure on your shoe, the tip of hers stepping lightly on yours under the table. Just enough to let you know she was there. That she knew exactly what she was doing. You couldn’t move. Not when she had a hold of your hand and foot.

Your ears were burning. Your chest was tight. You hadn’t felt like this in a long time.

Wonyoung said nothing. Then-

“Wait-” Yena spoke up, rescuing you from the moment. “Is that who I think it is?”

Hyewon gasped. “No way.”

“Huh?” you blinked, dazed.

“This one.” Yena turned the photo to show a photo of you, maybe a few months ago. You, standing inside of what looked like a sleek, private room. Behind you were works of art - like actual pieces from international artists, you didn’t know who they were but their paintings seemed too expensive for you. They didn’t pay attention to that. But more importantly, right beside you stood T.O.P from BIGBANG, hand over your shoulders, smiling while wearing sunglasses even indoors. To your left, an actor and some directors. Well, not an ameteur actor. It was the Lee Byung-hun. Yena looked at you, mouth open.

“Oppa. You know T.O.P and Lee Byung-hun? Why does he have his arm over your shoulder like you two hang out?”

“It was his gallery room at his house.” you replied, the pressure of Wonyoung was still on yours, like she was still making a silent claim.

“I helped… uh, worked on that. Not alone, obviously. But he was really cool. I've been a big fan of BIGBANG since I was a kid so…”

“You were at his house?” Hyewon asked, eyes wide.

“Just for meetings and other stuff.” you said quickly. “And a few celebrations.”

Yena shook her head in disbelief.

“Is this normal for you? Like high profile people and celebrities?”

You let out a breath, thinking of what to say. “No, not really. Our studio does a lot of stuff for those people, private commissions and stuff. I just happened to end up working with them sometimes.” you replied, trying to keep your voice casual.

None of those celebrities, those clients had ever made you feel as dismantled as you felt right now - under Wonyoung’s control. Still, you haven’t said a thing. No one else noticed the power struggle happening at the table, except the two of you. Wonyoung was winning. Effortlessly. Quietly.

Eventually, Yena passed your phone back with a shocked look in her eyes, muttering something about reevaluating her life. Hyewon sipped her drink and leaned back, stretching. Everyone shifted in her seats, the dinner settled back to its normal rhythm. Wonyoung drew her hand back and sat properly in her chair, crossed one leg over the other and turned her head towards you - her eyes soft and her voice calm.

“Oppa.” she opened, casually. “About the floral studio…”

You looked over at her, trying not to look too hopeful.

“Would you, you know… maybe help us with it?”

Her tone was light, but she didn’t smile this time. Like she really meant it.

“We want something warm and open. Something people walk into and just feel good by already being there. I think…” she paused, searching your face. “You get what we’re going for.”

There came the offer. No teasing anymore. Just honesty. You blinked twice before answering.

“Yeah… of course, I’d love to. Need a call to my boss but he trusts me.”

And this time, Wonyoung smiled.

Damn, she’s beautiful.

Before either of you could say anything, Yena clapped her hands together.

“Then let’s celebrate. More drinks. Yayyy!”

Hyewon raised her glass.

“Yayy! Cheers to our studio.”

“And to our new architect oppa who we found in Hong Kong.” Yena added, raising her glass.

You laughed under your breath as your glass clinked with theirs. Wonyoung took a sip, this one longer than the last ones. A few minutes passed in relaxed chatter, then Yena turned to Wonyoung, who was now resting her cheek on one hand, the other playing with her glass.

“Wonyoung-ah,” Yena said, suspiciously. “Are you okay? You know you’re a light drinker.”

“I’m fine, unnie.” Wonyoung replied, too quickly as she straightened up in her seat. “Totally fine.”

“You say that everytime.” Hyewon laughed.

“She’s almost at that stage.” Yena explained to you.

“She’s about to get all red, pouty and whiny. It’s slowly coming now.”

“I don’t pout.” Wonyoung mumbled in her breath, definitely pouting. You bit back a smile and looked into the scenery before she caught it.

When the bill came and the plates were cleared, the mood stayed light. Yena stretched and stood up, slinging her bag over her shoulder.

“We were gonna walk around a bit before heading back to the hotel. Maybe grab something light to eat along the way.”

Hyewon then turned to you.

“You should come with us, oppa. You’re already out, might as well stay longer, right?”

Wonyoung looked up at you then, eyes softer, sparkling under the warm lights. You paused.

“Yeah. Sure… Why not?”

The Hong Kong night air had cooled down just enough for the walk to feel nice. The four of you strolled along the Tsim Tsa Tsui Promenade, shoes tapping against the stone path as the city night life goes on in the background. Stunning. The skyline glittered on the other side of the water - skyscrapers lit up in colors, typical Hong Kong.

Yena and Hyewon had drifted ahead, laughing at something between them. You knew it wasn’t an accident. They didn’t walk too fast - just far enough to leave you and Wonyoung behind. Wonyoung? She was blushing now - cheeks flushed, eyes sparkling from the wine, her steps were slower and a bit uneven. She was still very elegant. But her restraint was on a thin line, in the most dangerous way possible. And then, this girl reached for your shirt collar. Two fingers, light grip. Enough to pull you down, her lips were close to your ear, too close. You stiffened, holding back your breath.

And then, she whispered, slow and warm:

“...I know about your ex, oppa.”

Your heart dropped, heavy.

What the fuck?

“Yu Jimin.” she added. “Yena-unnie told me about her.”

You didn’t move any further. Well, you couldn’t anyway.

“She was beautiful, you know.” Wonyoung murmured, candies to your ear.

“I spent like thirty minutes stalking her Instagram when I got back from the cafe.”

Her breath was so soft, hitting your ear and neck. Warm too. Her words did things to you that you couldn’t describe.

“Perfect skin. Beautiful face. The kind of girl that people noticed even when she’s not trying. Nice… body, too.”

You swallowed hard. You didn’t know what that tone of her was. Jealousy? Bitterness? That made it even worse. Then, Wonyoung let out a quietest laugh, enough to kill you.

“I was really sad when I thought you were one of those guys, you know? Fresh out of a breakup, walking around all polished and lonely. Looking for some new girl to satisfy your needs.”

No, I’m definitely not that type of guy.

She paused then pulled back slightly - just enough to tilt her head and look up at you, lashes heavy, smile lazy from too much wine.

“Oppa, you’re not those guys, right? 환승연애*…?”

*환승연애/hwanseung yeonae: like transit love, when some one’s fresh off a relationship, starting a new one but still deeply in love with the previous lover. Popular term recently in Korean, it went off due to a few dating programs.

Those words hit harder than any punch you ever took. You were about to answer, opening your mouth when Wonyoung cut in.

“Yena-unnie vouched for you. Said you were a really nice, serious guy. Proper. Mature. The kind of man who does not play around. Just my type, oppa.” her smile widened, just enough.

And then she slid her hand up, slowly, calculated - the one that had been resting at her side, brushing over your chest before moving up to your throat, tracing around. Then, she hooked her finger at the second button of your shirt and unbuttoned it. Just one. But it felt like she had just stripped away all of your remaining confidence. Wonyoung then looked up, her voice low, dangerous.

“I’ve never been in a relationship before.”

You blinked.

“And I’ve never acted like this around anyone before…sober or drunk.”

And then she decided to finish you off with one last action. She poked you on your chest - right where your heart was - a few times, lightly.

“So… you better gain my trust, oppa.”

Wonyoung didn’t wait for a reply. She knew she had you in the palm of her hand. She turned and kept walking to catch up with Hyewon and Yena. Her hair was flowing in the wind, shining under the city glow.

Am I in a 90s Hong Kong romance?

You stood there for a few seconds. Breath shallow, chest burning. One button undone. Wonyoung did all that to you in just under one day. You dragged your hand over your face and exhaled.

Fuck…

The four of you eventually reached the end of the promenade, a quieter area where Yena was calling for the rides, Hyewon humming something while scrolling on her phone. Wonyoung was leaning slightly against a railing, Miu Miu bag over her shoulder. This girl looked far too classy and elegant to be tipsy - until you walked to her. She turned to you when you approached, eyes a bit wide, lips pouting in that dreamy, tipsy fashion.

She could kill a thousand men with that look.

“Oppa.” she muttered.

“Was I crazy… or annoying today?”

You blinked. “What do you mean?”

“Just wondering.” She leaned in again - the same way she had all night.

“I don’t act this way normally. Or touch that much. Or…”

Her voice dropped, sultry but still had you waiting.

“...look at someone like this before. I just want to let you know that.”

Without waiting for your answer, she reached up to adjust the collar of your shirt, her knuckles intentionally brushing your jaw.

“I’m a little drunk.” she whispered, cheeks blazing. What were you supposed to say now?

“But I still know what I’m doing, oppa.”

Her eyes wide, glassy, shining under the city glow. You could feel that lingering closeness. Then Yena called her, standing near a car. Wonyoung blinked slowly, like she didn’t want to let go before taking a small step back. One hand brushing her hair, the other playing with her expensive bag. Before she left, she said just one more thing. An order. Her voice low, sultry.

“Don’t disappear on me, okay?”

And then she walked away. You were now at a new chapter in your life.

✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧

That night, you were on your bed. The hotel ceiling felt like it was spinning slowly above. Not from the wine, you were sure. You were on your phone, looking at her Instagram.

@for_everyoung10 - she already hit the follow button when you gave her your phone to add her contacts. She had already followed you back too.

140K followers. Not a celebrity. Not an influencer. Just… Jang Wonyoung. She wasn’t exactly a model either. But you could tell a few small local brands already caught on - tagged her in photoshoots for linen clothing, soft pastel colored clothing, “princess core” type of fashion. Nothing over the top. All clean, natural. Wonyoung looked like she belonged in every frame. You scrolled. Slowly.

A few GRWM (get ready with me) vlogs in her reels.

“Hi guys, get ready with me to…”

“Today I’m going for a smart casual look…”

“I’m using this foundation from…”

Fuck… her voice is so addicting.

A few clips of her dancing around with Yena and Hyewon somewhere.

A few clips of her trying out new cafes with her other friends.

You kept going. You didn’t even know you were smiling. Or that your chest was beating irregularly. What the hell was she doing to you? You were still staring at her feed when it hit you.

Shit. The studio.

You had casually agreed to a design project on the spot - with a girl who’d unbuttoned your shirt, poked your heart and walked off like she hadn’t messed up your whole system. You sighed before tapping on the group chat with Dabin and Barom.

[You]

you guys up?

[바롬보스] (Barom Boss)

barely. why? don’t tell me u got arrested in hongkong?

[다빈형]

is it that girl again?

it’s 12am in korea rn

[You]

video?

The screen flashed. Incoming video call. You answered.

Barom’s face filled the top corner, probably on his bed too. Dabin joined later - his face already grinning.

“Okay.” Barom said. “Talk.”

You rolled over on the bed.

“Hyung, I may have… accepted another project.”

Dabin squinted. “Define may have.”

Barom raised a brow. “Define project”

You sighed.

“A floral studio. In words. In Yeonnam-dong.”

Then Barom broke into a laugh, switching to English with his Australian accent.

“A what? Since when do you design flower shops?”

“Since he met that dreamy girl this morning.” Dabin added, not without laughing.

“Why do I have to talk to you guys in English everytime?” you said.

“Deal with it. I’m your boss, us two are 교포*.” Barom replied.

*교포/gyopo: ethnic Korean but born and raised/living in foreign countries.

“Heritage.” Dabin said.

“So what’s the story? Client fell for your crisp suit and mysterious vibe.” Barom asked.

“Nothing like that.” you replied.

“Tell us.”

“So they’re just starting the studio - flower based shop, maybe a small coffee counter at the front, photo friendly interior. It’s been a passion project for them. They had someone to work on it but it didn’t work out. Wonyoung - the girl, asked me over dinner. I said yes before thinking too much about it.”

“Wonyoung?” Barom asked, confused.

“The girl I’m… you know.” you replied, rubbing your temple.

Barom nodded, like he understood exactly what you meant.

“Look, I get it. Your performance over the past few months has been solid. And honestly, we don’t have a crazy load right now. You’ve been clean on deadlines since day one. As long as it doesn’t clash with other projects, I’m okay with it. But…”

He stared right at you through the screen.

“Don’t take the job just because she’s pretty. That shit doesn’t end well.”

Dabin nodded.

“Yeah, especially with you, man.”

“C’mon, man.” you replied.

“But hey, I trust you. When you come back from Hong Kong, talk to me more about this and if it’s okay, I’ll send you out to lead this project. Like usual, you do most of the work and I just take a look at it before signing it off. Perfect teamwork.”

“Hey, thanks, man. I appreciate this trip, you know. After the break up and all that.”

Barom nodded, understanding your position.

“Yeah, you needed a break. Honestly, I should’ve made you take one sooner.”

“You almost worked yourself into death.” Dabin added.

“C’mon man…” you sighed.

“So how did you meet this girl?” Barom asked.

✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧

After 30 minutes of video call, you set the phone down on your chest, exhaling slowly to calm yourself down. For a second, it was quiet before your phone buzzed.

[워녕이녕이🐰] sent you 2 images

You didn’t even have the chance to text her first. This girl always managed to surprise you. You tapped on the notification.

Wonyoung on her bed - makeup still there, cheeks a little flushed, long hair splayed around in that messy perfect way. The light was warm. Soft. Your brain short circuited immediately. Still staring when another text came. Stunning.

[워녕이녕이🐰]

do i look cute?

hyewon unnie took it for me

she said i looked like i was in a drama ㅋㅋㅋ

You hovered over the keyboard. Typing before you backspaced. Rewrote it.

[You]

i think you just ended me

[워녕이녕이🐰]

so should i post it on insta?

or…

keep this between us?

like a gift for u

Your heart skipped. You didn’t even know how to answer.

Damn… she got you good.

✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧

yayy!! wony is the best!!! so i tried something new. at least that's what i thought. pls let me know what u guys think about this. i had a lot of fun writing this. thanks for reading!!

#male reader #kpop #kpop male reader #fluff #wonyoung x male reader #wonyoung x reader #wonyoung #ive #jang wonyoung #izone #yena #kang hyewon #m!reader #Spotify #wonyoung fluff

329 notes · View notes