#Clip New Do Same You AU | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

chrollohearttags · 24 days

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french tips • sanji x black!fem reader

your new nail tech suddenly becomes your favorite after an appointment you’ll never forget!

nail tech!sanji, modern au, him being a gentleman ofc (he’s not a perv in this, hadn't watched the live action but from clips, taz seems a lot more charming so that’s who i'm going with! 😭) massage, handjob, foot and nipple play, service dom, fingering, squirting, calls reader miss + my dear, praise kink, says good girl a couple times, sanji has a tongue ring

word count: 2.5K

whoever sent this idea, thank you for your contribution. I don’t know if you are being serious or facetious but either way, you have awoken something in me. sanji fuckers, come get y’all’s juice!!

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you were a little hesitant…downright apprehensive even. You’d been coming to this shaking for years and each time, you sat in the same chair, got nearly the same services and entrusted your beauty needs to the same hands. “I’m sorry, (y/n). She’s on vacation right now and won’t be back for at least three weeks.” “I understand but I wish she would’ve told me before I booked the appointment..” you were flustered and rather frustrated to boot..you had an important event coming up and the last thing you needed was your routine disrupted. It was already enough chaos in your hectic life! But nail tech!sanji was willing to swoop in and make things easier.

“Miss, if you don’t mind..I’d be more than happy to help you today. My next appointment isn’t for a few hours so I’ve got plenty of time to get everything taken care of.”

nail tech!sanji, who’d been an esthetician and licensed massage therapist for years, had just begun working there but his work and reputation far preceded longevity at this particular shop. The man was an absolute master at his craft and his catalog spoke for itself. He had won competitions, curated some of the most beautiful designs you’ve ever seen and worked with absolute proficiency. “Is there a specific design you’re looking for?” nail tech!sanji had also mastered the art of de-escalating tense situations. When working around women and people who did not play when it came to their appearances, he knew one wrong move could result in his head or termination so he was flawless in his final product..left with no other choice, you’d accept nail tech!sanji’s generous offer. “Fine. But if you screw up one thing on these nails, I’m done with this shop for good.” but little did you know, you’d be so glad that you did take the services from him! nail tech!sanji, who’s work area was absolutely spotless, smelled of vanilla incense and looked so out together, it shocked you. “I find vanilla helps soothe the senses…makes you feel a lot more relaxed. Don’t worry, I’m going to take good care of you and if at any time, I do anything wrong, you let me know. Okay, miss?” nail tech!sanji, who looked better suited for a repair shop with his tattoos, blonde wefts and tongue ring, certainly took you by surprise. He was gentle, attentive and made certain that you were comfortable. “Can I offer you some water? Or perhaps something else to drink?” As the nail salon you frequented also doubled as a bar. “No alcohol for me today, please. I drove. I’ll just take the water..” nail tech!sanji, who noticed that you were still nervous, decided to take your hand and redirect that tension.

“So tell me about this event. I’d love to hear about it if you don’t mind.” nail tech!sanji, who was not only kind but handsome and rather charming to boot. He had a great sense of humor and was very quick witted..this man who was all but a stranger thirty minutes ago, had you laughing and fanning yourself as he dabbed balls of acrylic onto your nails and sculpted your tips to perfection. nail tech!sanji, who did thorough work whilst also listening to you attentively as you divulged about your career and how you were going to be attending a gala for the company’s sponsors. “Sounds like it’s a room full of snobs.” “You don’t know the half but hey, they keep my bills paid so I can’t complain too much, I guess.” nail tech!sanji, who was absolutely smitten by you, couldn’t stop staring from across the table as he gently kneaded lotion into your hands. His touch was so soft and inviting, making you wish he’d never pull away. It didn’t help matters that he was so damn attractive! nail tech!sanji, who made your nails look the best they ever had, was pleased to see the smile on your face after he finished!

“..only the best for a valued customer and such a beauty at that. I do aim to please.” “I’d say you exceeded that. Thank you, mr. sanji..they’re gorgeous.” “Thank you for allowing me to take care of you. I’m honored.”

nail tech!sanji, who wasn’t quite ready to part ways with the gorgeous woman he’d come to be acquainted with, decided that he would take on all of your services today. Including your pedicure and massage…nail tech!sanji, who saw that you opted for the deluxe package, whisked you away to the private room with the entire setup. Something you’d always paid for. A massage bed in the corner and the pedicure chair with a tub full of milky liquid and rose petals scattered about…soft, ambient music playing from the speakers and waves displayed on a mounted television screen crashed around. It was so peaceful and just what you needed for the long week ahead and the one you’d just gone through. nail tech!sanji, who rolled up his sleeves as he sat down to work on your feet, made you chew at your bottom lip..weirdly enticed by the sight of his veins protruding from his forearms. But that wasn’t the only reason…he’d soak your heels and work on each one as the other marinated in the softening solution. nail tech!sanji, who delicately massaged up and down those calves, couldn’t help but to chuckle when he felt you slightly tremble yet again when he began to gently knead his fingers into your pressure points, causing you to melt right there! “Looks like someone enjoyed that. You’re really tense for some reason, miss..something on your mind?” Trying to feign the embarrassment of admitting that not only were slightly turned on by how gently this man handled you but the fact that beneath that skin tight sundress, you weren’t wearing any panties, as you had just come from your wax appointment before arriving here and he was seconds from getting an eyeful! “N-no, I’m fine. Just feels really good.” “Well that’s all I want to hear.” nail tech!sanji, who was quick to sense the energy shift, went to retrieve your polish of choice after rubbing your legs down in lotion and wrapping them in warm towels.

“White toes..good choice. And a personal favorite on a lady too.” “You’re a man of good taste then. I like that.” Causing the blonde to blush a bit himself..as he could tell you weren’t exactly some scared little girl. You were a grown woman..who was strong, handled her business and always got her way. Just his type! nail tech!sanji, who set up for your final service as he allowed your toes to cure under the gel lamp, began to dim the lights and lay out all his materials. Knowing that you were watching him carefully…snaking his tongue out intermittently to reveal that steel ball stuck between it. Not to mention the silver bands wrapped around his perfectly manicured fingers.

“..can I have you remove your clothes and wrap yourself in the towel, please? I can step out for a moment and you just let me know when you’re ready..” helping you from your seat as he removed that lamp and grasped your hand..this man was the epitome of a perfect gentleman and you were becoming more and more ecstatic that you had decided to come in today. But unbeknownst, the best was yet to come..nail tech!sanji, who’d stepped back in to find you lying across the table on your stomach, a single towel covering your frame and ready for him to work his magic. nail tech!sanji, who had to all but bite his fist to restrain himself as he inched closer and prepared to make you feel the best you had in ages…warming a palmful of oil as he rubbed them together. Waiting in anticipation, you’d glance back and be greeted with a smirk. When he began to knead your muscles with those strong hands, your body would immediately melt within his grasp. So carefully working out all the sores and kinks that had mounted throughout the stressful work week. Meetings, business negotiations, dinners with your bosses…it was all taking its toll. But if anyone could put you at ease, it was nail tech!sanji..

“How are we feeling, my dear?..”

“Amazing..you’re really good at this..”

and luckily for you, this wasn’t even the beginning. Because as he kept going, (y/n) began to release soft whimpers in response to those subtle touches. Chewing at your lower lip, you’d allow your mind to escape to a place that it should not have been. Abashedly, you didn’t want to admit it but it’d been quite some time since a man had touched you, less known, made you feel this damn good! It was apparent that he was no amateur..in many ways than once. “Mmmm…like that.” The words slipped out subconsciously but it didn’t even phase nail tech!sanji, he just chuckled and kept going. Everytime he moved, he questioned and asked for your permission to place his hands lower. By the time he reached your lower back, you’d let him know it was quite alright to do as he pleased. “Please…keep going. You know what to do..” you were never a promiscuous woman by any means but you were the kind to have your way..when you wanted it. And what you wanted right now…was for him to give in to his desires and take you right there!

“In that case…flip over f’r me and I’ll give you exactly what you need.” The sexual tension that had accrued between you two was undeniable and neither of you were interested in playing coy. So with the command being whispered into your ear, causing a shudder to run down your spine, you’d follow his command and turn over to lie on your back, exposing your breasts. He couldn’t help but to subtly grunt at the sheer sight of those erect, dark hues nipples and toned tummy. The only thing making it better was the glass colored liquid pooling across it and spreading as he rubbed it in. Your brown skin glistening underneath the hue of auburn lighting.. “..there we are..much better.” nail tech!sanji took his sweet time in caressing your body. Honing in on your stiff little buds and watching you squirm. Your dark eyes glaring through him with unadulterated lust. Especially when he’d wash his hands off and proceed to go lower beneath that cloth covering your upper thighs. “You sure know how to work your hands..” “I’m only getting started, my love. Just keep your eyes on me and don’t move…” his dominance was not only attractive but captivating. You needed him more than he could imagine! So much so, you’d reach over to grasp for his clothed erection that was growing from the confines of his pants. But nail tech!sanji was quick to halt you, gently clutching your wrist.

“Aht..not yet, gorgeous. It’s my turn.” Chuckling as he commanded you to lean up so you could watch his every movement. He’d part your legs as he kept an arm cradled behind your shoulders and the other between your thighs, working those nimble fingers on your sensitive spot. “Oh my gosh..” “…mmph, you’re soaking, pretty girl.” watching you writhe and whimper as those digits circulated your clit. nail tech!sanji, who latched his lips around your nipples and suckled as he moved about, working them inside of you..whispering into your ear, marking your throat with kisses and filling your head with sweet nothings as he clutched his hand around it. “Ooh..you needed this, didn’t you?…yeah, I know. Just need someone to take care of you every once in a while.” Pegging you to a tee..so independent and headstrong that sometimes, you forgot what it felt like to be spoiled. Clutching around his knuckles, you’d grasp for his arm and hold onto it as your lips met in passionate pecks. Exchanging saliva and whimpers in the process. Tasting one another as the kisses deepened. Sensing that mounting ball of pleasure forming in your core, he’d curl his index and middle digits to work that orgasm out of you. “Good girl..there you go. Keep fucking my fingers. Just like that..get yourself off..” nail tech!sanji, who was practically yearning to bury himself inside of your pussy, could no longer fight his own urges and gave you permission to stroke his cock, shuffling his waistband around to remove it. “Mmph, damn…” “..like what you see, miss?” Knowing that you were taken aback by his size and length. A glowing red tip with precum seeping out..you’d carefully take into your grasp as you stroked that shaft. You’d pleasure each other through lilted moans and stifled cries. Practically shoving your tongue down the other’s throats as you brought each other to ecstasy. “Should I speed up? I can if you need me to..” but you’d quickly decline, finding that the pace was perfect. He was equally as needy but his resolve outweighed his pleasure at the moment and he was determined to let you get yours before his own. Which wasn’t too far away..

“You wanna come, beautiful? It’s okay, you can tell me.” “Y-yes! Please, Sanji..” and with that, he commanded your release with a sharp tug upward and a quickened flick of his wrist..you’d finally cave and release. Letting out loud whimpers, along with a stream of juices, that soaked the table and your quivering thighs. nail tech!sanji, who enjoyed the sight of watching you writhe from his volition, was quick to get a sample of the mess he contributed to. Moving down your torso with the swipe of his tongue piercing, grazing your skin; lapping up those sweet juices from your center down to your thighs..leaving a trail of kisses in his wake until he reached your calves and feet. nail tech!sanji, who’d place those freshly done toes into his mouth, sucking them momentarily as he concluded your massage.

“So..did I do a good job, my love? Satisfied with your service today?” Receiving by far the best compliment he’s ever gotten when you snatched him down and made out with him once more. Showing your gratitude. “I’ll take that as a yes..” giggling with him as the two of you came down from your climatic bliss.

y/n, who was apprehensive before coming in here, was now leaving happier than ever. And nail tech!sanji, who had never picked favorites among his clients, was now looking forward to your next appointment!

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tagging: @lotus-flower-writes @spaceforher @highpri3stess @themagnificentgoat @ichigosluvrr @ladymomo

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toytle · 9 days

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bonus to this post

his hairclips got lore, his bowtie got lore, it’s abt time barry’s wing wispies got some lore too 🪽

[ID in alt text + below cut]

ID: Fan comic of a trans Barry Allen AU when he was a kid.

PAGE 1:

NORA: [turning Barry around from reading a comic book] Oh no! What happened to your hair tie?

BARRY: [points to bowtie]

NORA: It doesn’t bother you that it gets in your eyes like this?

BARRY: [shrugs] I dunno. It’s a lot of work.

NORA: A lot of work? Hmm, it has been getting long, hasn’t it…

BARRY: [goes back to reading, not even listening]

PAGE 2:

[1 haircut later…]

NORA: [admiring the haircut she gave Barry]

BARRY: [hopping off seat] It feels so much lighter!

BARRY: [running up to mirror, observing new haircut]

BARRY: [pressing nose up against glass, eyes sparkling, thinking] Woah.

A comparison chart of Barry’s hairstyles in his childhood. The first is in a ponytail tied with a bow. Barry is pouting in uncertainty. The second is loose and messy, having traded out his hairbow for winged hairclips that do nothing to keep the strands out of his face. Barry is looking at his clips, smiling eagerly. The hairbow is now on his shirt collar like a bowtie. The third is cut short, similar to his adult hairstyle, but with strands at the sideburns framing his face. Barry is looking up, in awe of having short hair for the first time. The last is the same as the third, but the sideburn strands are now tucked behind his ears in the shape of wings. Barry is scrunching his face up in a wide smile. /end ID

#barry allen #nora allen #the flash #dc #dc comics #dc fanart #detective comics #gender euphoria #t4t hb #danart #comic #alt text #described #they were sideburns all along…#ignore the fact that i flubbed up the ages. it’s been a year some things have changed alright. much love 🫶

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matrixbearer2024 · 2 months

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Troubles Unforeseen

Vox x CollegeStudent!Reader

A/N: Wowowowow- I did not realize my story would be so well received hahaha, I'm honestly grateful you guys like it so much. Anyways- here's the loooong awaited continuation to the series and I hope you all enjoy this installment as much as you've enjoyed the past ones. Happy reading!

A/N: To say this was looong overdue is a friggin understatement since it's literally just been chilling in my drafts like no one's business hahahaha. I'm posting it now so people can start writing ideas about what to do after Reader dies, but go ahead and feel free to keep posting HCs about Reader still being alive. It's an AU at this point and I'll keep writing about it like one HAHAHAHA!

To say Vox paid more attention to you now was slightly an understatement.

You were both practically connected by the hip digitally.

Even your friend group noticed how much time you'd spent just chatting whoever was on the receiving end of your shenanigans.

Not that they knew what kind of peculiar situation was always on the other side of the screen.

In fact, Vox was aware he probably should've been paying more attention to the meeting he was in-

It just so happens that you interested him more than any typical business ever could.

All the more when you'd told him you were getting ready for a party.

"It's just a birthday celebration Vox, it's not like I'm going to a club or anything."

"If there's any booze try not to get shitfaced, or will you drive yourself there?"

You could only giggle at his worry, taking a glance at your phone as it continued to buzz from his messages.

You clipped on the new earrings you'd bought just a few days ago to go with your outfit.

Even if you had gone shopping with your friends-

You still sent Vox pictures, asking what look he preferred.

He was in the middle of spying on Alastor when you once again swiped up all his attention.

Aaaaaand he actually thought you looked great in all of the outfits.

A warm feeling spread through him upon seeing your cheeky grin and silly poses.

Ah whatever, at this point it was nothing new.

But he did finally end up picking the one which bore a striking resemblance to his color scheme.

You didn't even notice at first when you bought the outfit.

Only when you saw the small desktop companion Vox made for you while doing assignments did you realize the subconscious decision your overlord buddy had made.

You teased him about it for a while too, much to his chagrin.

"I'll be with my friends, you don't have anything to worry about."

"The same friends that caused how we met? Doll, I have every right to be concerned."

Vox had nothing against the chaotic nature of your friends.

After all they always brought out the best-

And the worst-

In you, no matter what you were doing.

Even so, he couldn't shake the feeling that something was very... off.

Like an ominous shadow just looming over his shoulder.

He didn't make any mention of it though, thinking he was just being paranoid.

Besides, he didn't want to rain on your parade.

You'd gone the whole nine yards to pretty yourself up for the party.

He wouldn't want your efforts to be in vain.

Vox felt a twinge of jealousy towards the fact others would be able to admire how nice you were in real time, he only had pictures.

Wait what-

Okay, there was definitely something still wrong with him.

"I might not be as active for a few hours because of the party so go and actually focus on the things you gotta do."

"Are you insinuating that I don't do that already?"

"When you spam memes and talk to me nearly all the time can you blame me for not thinking you're always distracted?"

Vox mumbled cursed under his breath, rolling his eyes and glancing back up to check if the boring meeting was over.

Ugh... were they even halfway done discussing this shit?

"Yeah whatever, enjoy your party dollface. Don't get too hammered."

"Hahaha love you too dumbass, I'll keep you updated."

The overlord glitched slightly reading your reply.

His stomach definitely did a flip when he first saw what you typed.

Vox already knew it was probably just a: "I love you as a really close friend" thing-

But that didn't stop his systems from freaking out about it anyhow.

He decided it would be best to stop thinking about it anyways, placing his phone down and finally placing his attention back on the meeting.

Like it should've been the entire time-

Vox didn't really give a fuck though.

On your end, you were going to be picked up by your friends before you all headed to the party.

You guys decided it would be smarter to carpool so most of you guys could actually drink and unwind.

"Heeeeey bitch! Wow! Your outfit slays!"

You rolled your eyes before climbing into shotgun.

"I had some help picking out the look, any good?"

"(Y/N) you are going to break necks with how fast heads will turn, are you kidding me??"

That just reminded you of something Vox said when you showed him the pictures of your completed outfit.

'They're going to turn their heads so fast it'll give them whiplash! You look stunning darling!'

Vox's knack for petnames sometimes embarrassed you, especially when it sometimes seemed a little more than friendly.

Though- that was probably not the case, he was just being the charming idiot TV telecaster that he was with his sweet talk.

You often caught yourself wondering if he ever meant his words, or if it was just the persona Vox played up.

You partly hoped he meant it, even if you didn't know why.

That was until the not-so-subtle snickering of your friends popped the thought bubble you were in.

"Ooookay, what's so funny?"

"Who are you thinking about~? That digital 'friend' of yours?"

You audibly groaned from the situation your friends were insinuating.

They never really believed that you were just chatting with a friend when you were on the phone with Vox.

Despite the multiple times you'd blatantly mentioned that he really was just that.

A friend, a companion-

He wasn't supposed to be anything more than that right?

A blush was creeping up your neck as your friends continued to prod and tease at you for it, fanning your own face slightly to try and calm down the raging embarrassment.

Of course, it would always be fun and games-

Until it wasn't.

Everything happened so fast.

You were just joking with your friends in one moment-

And now you were coughing up blood in the next.

You remembered your friends screaming, some bright headlights, the brakes screeching then metal crunching.

You couldn't even move.

The entire front of the car had been shoved backwards into the front seats.

Even if the paramedics got here in time, you doubted they could save you.

The coppery tang of blood stained your tongue.

You'd gotten all dolled up for the party too.

It's unfortunate that now you'd never be able to go.

Heh... you probably wouldn't even be able to get drunk now either.

Wait-

Oh shit-

Vox!!

You wanted to reach for your phone but both your arms were fucked up in the crash.

The only thing you could really move was your head.

Even then, darkness was already starting to creep into your vision.

It didn't matter how valiantly you fought to keep your eyes open.

You lost too much blood, by the time the paramedics had arrived-

They announced you dead and took you away in a body bag.

The lower half of you had gotten entirely mangled from the accident that you surviving seemed bleak to begin with.

You thought you were done for when you closed your eyes for the final time.

Only when you opened them again- you were somewhere else entirely.

What...?

The skies were blood red, there was practically fire and murder everywhere you turned-

And oh ew- it even smelled like rotten burning corpses.

Where the fuck were you??

Was this supposed to be hell???

You carefully wandered around, hesitating here and there before stumbling across a large building.

Hazbin Hotel...?

Huh, you had no where else to go.

Might as well give it a shot.

#hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel vox #hazbin vox #vox #vox x reader #hazbin hotel vox x reader #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin vox x reader #vox x you #Get Off My Screen Series

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teacasket · 1 year

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omg

genre: fluff au: gamer au, streamer au warnings: none word count: 0.6k pairing: gn!reader x lee felix song: omg by new jeans

THEY KEEP ON ASKING ME, “WHO IS HE?”

Chat won’t stop asking, despite how many times you try to steer the topic at hand to something else. Their opinions on your current Animal Crossing build? Ignored. If you should crochet a cardigan or bucket hat for your cat? Little to no responses. Lavender latte or milk tea for Drink of the Day? Lavender latte wins, but Chat immediately goes back to your hidden boyfriend.

This is what you get for forgetting to mute your mic. You had a whole phone call about dinner before realizing your mistake, and now everyone knows that wholesome, cozy Twitch streamer lightberry swears like a sailor when discussing pork katsu and calls a special someone “baby.” It’s been clipped already, you just know. At least you didn’t put him on speaker.

“‘100 subs if you tell us his name?’” you read. You'll indulge them because indulging Chat makes for good content. “I’ll tell you literally anything else.”

If you told them his name, you would end up trending on Twitter.

“‘Is he also a gamer?’ Yeah. Mostly League, Genshin, Apex. He’s been trying to get into Valorant. Now, 100 subs, please.”

Felix, otherwise known as LixInABox, is a gamer and streaming personality who has nearly a million subs on Twitch. He has a partner, an elusive figure exclusively referred to as “My Partner.” There are rumors that My Partner (MP) doesn’t actually exist and that they’re a cover for his singleness.

“‘20 subs if you tell us his rank?’ Sure. He's pretty high in everything. I can’t ever duo with him, except in Genshin.”

When he started streaming, he was primarily known for his League of Legends skills. Low Masters on a good day, Diamond 3 on the bad ones.

“‘Show us a picture.’ You know what, I’ll do that for free.”

Chat is not happy when you pull up a photo of Marshal from Animal Crossing. To be fair, he does resemble Felix a little.

While they continue to pester you about his identity, you continue terraforming your butterfly-shaped lake. When Marshal walks by with a sandwich, you make sure to point him out.

“There’s my boyfriend,” you say as you glance at the chat, which is scrolling by so quickly, your eyes can barely keep up.

IT’S LIX

MP MP MP MP

LIXBERRY

You’ve got a ship name already? How did they figure it out? Did Felix reach a million subs? He joked that he would reveal who MP was once he hit a million, and you sort of gave him the green light, but surely he would tell you beforehand? You sit motionless at your chair and try to come up with a solution that doesn’t involve straight up lying.

LIXBERRY LIXBERRY

MP IS REAL

HE’S LIVE

It doesn’t matter what you do. By doing nothing, you’ve confirmed it, so you go back to how it all started—you call Felix, live on stream. You leave your mic unmuted intentionally this time.

“Hey, what did you do?” are your first words. You have his stream up as well, so you see the blush on his face. “You’re live on mine, by the way.”

“I didn’t do anything! They figured it out! I mentioned that I was gonna have pork katsu for dinner, and like five minutes later, they connected it back to you. What did you do?”

“I forgot to mute during our call,” you admit. “And I also gave them hints in exchange for subs, but I didn’t think they were anything obvious.”

He looks at his chat and laughs. “You basically told them what I’m famous for. And a picture of Marshal? No wonder.”

“My bad. See you at dinner?”

He smiles, and you can’t help but do the same. “Yeah. Love you.”

“Love you, too, baby.”

Chat explodes. You and Felix will never live this down, but it feels better than you thought. And you really don’t want to admit it, but lixberry is really, really cute.

HE’S THE ONE THAT’S LIVING IN MY SYSTEM, BABY.

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crabsnpersimmons · 28 days

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just wanted to say thank you for all the LOVE for Clip! he's happy to be here!

Clip is hella competitive 😅

and here are some doodles inspired by some of your comments and tags!

@nowiknowthislooksbad @normal-about-the-dca

he's having fun (: (the kind of fun i would hate because i don't like the sound of balloons popping..)

@vacantfields @petrixmuserb

i like to think the hair salon does these kinds of things for charity often. would you be in line? what would you pick?

@ramblingsofacotlfangirl @salamansir

oh dear..

@bennydunbar

loved this tag so i HAD to draw something for it--

oop well okay! i think that's enough for today! thanks again!

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nikolliver · 29 days

Note

he's here to boop you

let him in (or turn him away)

This is the best day of my life

#niko niko art #mutual art #ask #clip new do same you #dca au #fnaf dca #daycare attendant #the daycare attendant #daycare attendant fnaf #dca fnaf #boop

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nnight-dances · 9 months

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CHERRY-FLAVOURED

PAIRING: choi seungcheol x f!reader (ft. kwon soonyoung & kim mingyu)

GENRE: fluff, angst

TROPES: small town au!, exes to lovers, jealousy, idiots in love, fake dating (w/ soonyoung), you own a small bookstore and i never mention what seungcheol does (but just know he's rich).

RECOMMENDED: reading ADORABLY, YOURS before this, since this is the same seungcheol and i make a few references to what happened there.

"Oh, did you hear? Seungcheol's back in town!" Nayeon calls out with a lopsided smile she thinks is inconspicuous. You think it's obnoxious.

But you don't let her know how much the news bothers you, pretending to instead by absorbed in currently trying to get your hair to sit right in a ponytail. "Sure," you reply, not breaking eye-contact with yourself in the mirror.

Your roommate quickly catches though because she appears by your shoulder in the mirror, eyes narrowing. "Right. And you're fine with it?"

"Why wouldn't I be?" you mutter, devoting every fibre of your being to make your tone stay flat.

"I don't know, the way you've been working on this ponytail for the past fifteen minutes had me thinking otherwise," she shrugs, "And the fact that it still looks like shit from the back."

You scoff in offense, "All my baby hair makes it real hard to do this, okay!" But Nayeon's already making her way back to the kitchen to finish her breakfast with a teasing giggle and you watch her in dismay, wondering if not only your hairstyle but also your acting had really been that bad.

And as you spin around to face your reflection, you figure that the general bad-ness of your life might have something to with Seungcheol's return to town after all. Not that you would ever admit it, for many reasons. But mainly because of the fact that he's your ex-boyfriend.

You liked to think you'd ended things with him on a good note– there hadn't been too many tears or screams and you still would catch up with him whenever you ran into him, an occurrence that was basically inevitable given how small your town was. But ever since he'd left on trip to visit his much-famed best friend, Jeonghan, you'd finally gotten around to thinking about why you were still single despite having left a long-term relationship for over a month.

…Which led to a series of messy first dates with the few tolerable men in town who would otherwise have you cringing at the thought of talking to them. And well, actually going out with them convinced you your first impressions were always right and your intuition was all-knowing.

–

Meet Soonyoung, the man who would almost unmistakably come around asking for gum in your store. Your bookstore.

You couldn't figure out if it was a honest fault of his personality or if he was doing it to annoy you– until one afternoon you found it was something much worse: he was flirting with you.

"Y/N, your hair looks cute today," he's telling you through a grin right now. You look away from the computer screen where you've been logging the new stock of books in, ready to tell him thanks and that you needed to hear that since your beloved roomate insulted you this morning. You don't get around to saying all that because you spot a figure entering the store behind Soonyoung, where he's leaning on the counter with his hands under his chin. He thinks he's slick but you know it's so he can show off his arms.

You've forgotten all about Hoshi and his boyish charms because you notice the new customer is none other than the recent arrival to town, Seungcheol.

You hate the way you can feel your heart skip a beat at the revelation so you quickly turn your head back to your screen. "Thanks, Soonyoung."

Thankfully, Hoshi doesn't seem to notice the stiffness of your clipped response and instead is distracted by a stack of plastic-wrapped books.

"Wow, you sure have a lot of new stock coming in these days, huh?"

You nod, still not looking away from the screen. "Yeah, I've been working on keep the shelves up to date with the new releases. I'm sick of people using the feedback box to curse me out for still placing the classics out front."

You hear a snort then and you immediately recognize it as not Soonyoung's.

"You'd think that's how the feedback works, no?"

Slowly you turn to look at him in the eyes, unsettled by the playful glint you find there. "...Can I help you?" you ask quietly, keeping your tone cordial but not too warm. Hoshi stands up straight with Seungcheol next to him, earning him a glance from the man.

"Oh, did you finally hire a part-timer?" he asks. You consider throwing the stack of new books in your ex's face. And then you remember how much they cost. So instead, you settle on shaking your head.

"No–" Hoshi cuts you off, though, much to your chagrin.

"No, I'm just here giving Y/N company," he's saying and you really wish he wouldn't speak, but he goes on, "She's been pretty stressed out these days and last week–"

"Soonyoung," you look at him warningly, "do you think you could help me double-check if there's a delivery out front? I keep getting tracking updates that it's close."

"Of course!" he responds already reaching for the glass doors, "Be right back, Y/N!"

With Soonyoung gone, Seungcheol finally breaks into the guffaw you know he's been keeping in for the past five minutes. "What's that all about?"

"It's none of your business, Seungcheol," you inform him as you busy yourself with tidying up the stray pieces of gum wrapper Soonyoung had conveniently forgotten.

"Oh, so you do remember who I am, after all?" You hate how much you like listening his voice turn slighly soft at the sound of his name on your lips. And the how your breath's a little uneven when he slides to invade your line of vision, big hands tapping at the counter to get your attention. As if you could possibly be thinking about anything else right now.

"Why are you here, anyway?" you ask him, training your gaze on him. "Because I know, for a fact, you don't read."

"I'm hurt, Y/N," Seungcheol gasps with a hand to his chest. His unbelievably firm chest. "And after I worked so hard to read that boring poem book for you?"

You almost seethe at the way he calls it a poem book but contain it with a grimace. "Can we get to the point here? I have a store to run, dude."

"I'm serious! I came here to find a book. Considering picking that poem book again, figure out what the big deal is for once and for all."

You stay still, unresponsive to his ridiculous excuse. Seungcheol waits a few beats, eyes locked with yours before giving in. "Fine. I was in town and wanted to see how you were doing."

Never mind, you think you preferred to hear the ridiculous lies because the way your ex-boyfriend's gaze drops to your fists by your side has you immediately unfolding your grasp. Stupid Seungcheol and his ability to fuck up a perfectly okay daily routine.

"Ugh," you sigh out after a moment, "Come on. I'll help you find the chapbook. But you have to promise to never call it a poem book ever again. Or I'm blacklisting you."

You don't see it but when you spin around to march into the bookstore, expecting Seungcheol to follow you, he's all smiles, his own fists unravelling at the way your tone lost its cold somewhere along the way of this encounter. He skips behind you with a noise of excitement.

"Okayyyy," you hum as you crouch by the poetry section, fingers expertly running through the spines of the thin books there. Seungcheol crouches by you, a little too close because his arm brushes against you, almost throwing you off-balance.

You're about to tell him off for surprising you but he suddenly smiles, dimples so delicious in the soft glow of the light of the bookstore filtering through the bookshelves. "Your hair looks different," he comments, voice low and his gaze slowly follows the trail of your low ponytail, the thin grey band that holds the strands together clearly very worn-out. "Looks pretty."

And where Seungcheol's wondering when you started wearing your hair up, you're incredibly flustered by his compliment. You stand up too quick, knee joints popping, and you think you must really be growing old when your vision blacks out a little.

You steady yourself with a hand on the shelf, quietly scolding Seungcheol, "You're in the way." He joins you on his feet, making way with an exaggerated wave of his arm, not missing the way your ears are turning redder by the second.

You're gifted a good solid five minutes of peace as you inspect the shelves, wondering how you lost track of the chapbook, when Seungcheol speaks up again. "Um, so seriously, what's the deal with you and Soonyoung? You… seeing him?"

For all his attempts at maintaining an air of nonchalance, Seungcheol can't help how irked he was when he walked into your bookstore to the sight of Soonyoung making conversation to you. Irksome especially more so because he'd heard you say that you hated having people around you while you did the boring but imperative computer-related stuff at work, something about wanting to get the misery out of the way as soon as possible. Yet, there Soonyoung had been, distracting you with all his airhead being.

"I can't seem to locate the book right now for some reason," you start, doing nothing to ease Seungcheol's worries, "And I also can't seem to comprehend why my dating life is a point of discussion between us… anymore."

And wow, does your comment hurt. It hurts Seungcheol but also you, even as you're the one saying it because you can practically feel his mood dampening at your words. But the rational part of you is praising you for doing the right thing and setting your boundaries before you get any more carried away by your ex-boyfriend's ways.

That afternoon Seungcheol leaves your bookstore, very empty-handed and extremely heart-broken, because as he exits, he can already hear Soonyoung asking if you wanted get lunch with him.

–

Speaking of lunch, enter Mingyu because eating out with someone, more often than not, meant making a trip to his humble but bustling restaurant. It was everything right with your small town: a simple menu that remained consistently mind-blowing no matter how many times you visited.

Wish you could say your friendship with Mingyu had maintained the same level of consistency as his culinary competence.

And in your defense, you didn't know how much longer you could've gone ignoring the way Mingyu would take every opportunity to make you extra sides that you didn't order and send you specially curated handmade dinner-sets when he heard you were sick or too busy to eat. You hated it, crossing the friendzone you had so carefully placed him in, but one late night, when he showed up at your door in the rain just so he could deliver your food before it went cold, you caved and invited him in.

So while you legally have no choice but to politely turn down Soonyoung's offer for lunch, you can't help that you find yourself walking to Mingyu's Kitchen on Saturday morning for some brunch because as much as you loved improvising with the two ingredients in your fridge, nothing beat the ramyeon he cooks.

You're still groggy when you enter the cozy shop but the familiar scent iss already warming you up from the chilly air outside. Except you make eye-contact with the man as you step foot into the place.

The man being Seungcheol, of course, because where you could handle fielding Mingyu's puppy eyes on you, a reminder that you hadn't texted him back yet– Seungcheol's intense glare fixed on you has you shaking in your boots. Literally.

"...actually, I think I'll just eat here," you hear him call out as you approach the counter to place your order. Your head hurts already so you don't think too hard about Seungcheol's request to Sakura who nods with a smile.

"Y/N!" Mingyu materializes in front of you with a beam to greet you and you think sunglasses might've been the way to go this morning.

"Hey," you drag out the greeting, flinching at your own hoarse voice, "What's up, Gyu?"

"Nothin' much, just dealing with the usual Saturday morning rush, y'know? Maroon 5 should write a song about that instead of crying over Sunday mornings, don't you think?"

You're busy processing the tall man's chaotic train of thoughts when you hear Seungcheol laughing faintly. You glance at him, frowning when he's standing closer to you than you remember and then look back at Mingyu. "Ha, sorry it's so busy," you mumble.

"You don't sound so good. Did you catch something?" Mingyu inquires, brows furrowing and you genuinely love the man for his observance but dread its consequences nevertheless.

"Ahh, I mean, it's fine. Just a little cold from the wind," you clear your throat in an effort to sound better, "But I'll have a ramyeon for that very reason." You try to punctuate your sentence with a light-hearted chuckle but with your condition, it just kind of sounds like you're dying so you shut yourself up.

"Feeling under the weather?"

You look up from your phone screen, where you've been fixating all your attention so you can ignore the way Seungcheol's seated himself on the table right next to yours. This was the problem with eating out alone. The danger of your ex-boyfriend tailing you. You swear you're dragging Nayeon out after you next time, her fucked-up sleep schedule be damned.

You shrug in response to his question, "I'm fine. Thanks for the concern."

"You're very welcome," comes his teasing reply, "But seriously, you've got to wear more layers than that if you want to make it to winter."

You look down at your long-sleeved top with a frown, "I think this attire is perfectly appropriate for the fall, actually." You tug at the sleeves so they cover your wrists as if to prove a point.

Seungcheol raises a brow, "It would be a perfectly appropriate attire for someone who doesn't have the immune system of a rat."

Gasping, you shoot back, "Rude! I don't see why I have to stand this slander even when we're not together."

There it is. The words slip out your tongue before you have a minute to filter your thoughts and though things between you and Seungcheol are more chill than most former lovers, your sudden comment has the atmosphere turn ever so awkward, with his smile falling and your own turning sour.

You sigh in relief when Sakura brings out a tray to Seungcheol's table that very moment, saving you just a little embarassment. "Enjoy your meal!" she smiles at him and then at you, "Your food will be out soon!"

You nod, swallowing against your dry throat and watch as Seungcheol stares at his food wordlessly. You really had a way with words for someone who sold books for a living. Eventually, you go back to distracting yourself with your phone and he starts eating, suddenly laser-focused on his food.

You're thankful for the space, until you see Mingyu making his way to your table with your tray in his hands. You don't know why he does that, bringing you your food despite being the head chef and owner of the place. Well, you do know why but you didn't have the energy to deal with the reasons today.

Not with Seungcheol sitting right there, eyes on Mingyu's back as he places your food in front of you, grin intact. You're about to thank the man and hopefully, cut any conversation short but he beats you to it.

"Here's your food, Y/N!" his voice borders on cracking but he goes on, "I made you some yuja-cha as well for your throat. And make sure you eat a lot of kimchi, okay? Let me know if you need anything else."

Slowly you nod, thanking him under your breath as he takes off and now it's your turn to stare at your food in silence while Seungcheol's shooting daggers your way.

If he thought he was upset by your thing with Soonyoung, the way Mingyu was just all up in your space with his stupidly sweet gestures has Seungcheol… a lot more upset.

"I thought Mingyu and you were just friends," he's voicing before he can help it.

Your head snaps up in surprise but really, you should've seen this coming. You compose yourself, averting your eyes back to the warm food in your plate. "And I thought I made it clear that my dating life is none of your business."

"It's not my business," Seungcheol says, unconvincing to his own hears, "But it would be a problem if you were, you know, two-timing."

Now you know Seungcheol is trying to get on your nerves because he knows how much you hate dishonesty and to accuse you of being disloyal is a low blow, really. But it works because you finally look back at him with eyes wide, "Of course I'm not. I slept with him like once!"

Where the news has Seungcheol feeling conflicted because where it was good to know that nothing was serious, it was also not fun to hear that you'd slept with him. But while he tried hard to not dwell on Mingyu's impressive physique, you were busy catching up with your own loss of control.

Because even despite your unintended confession that you hope you weren't too loud about, you quickly supply in a quiet voice, "...well, it was technically a date that led to sleeping– but it had nothing to do with Soonyoung— I don't even know why I'm telling you this!"

You spend the rest of your brunch focusing on finishing your food and appropriately thanking Mingyu for the food, a little apologetic for many many reasons, so you can leave the same room as your ex-boyfriend faster.

But he makes it real hard, because just as you step out of the restaurant and take a deep breath of the fresh September air to settle your nerves, you hear his voice calling you out. You stuff your hands into the pockets of your pants to brace yourself as you turn around, already starting to say something about how he needs to leave you alone and forget you said anything.

"You left your phone behind!" he cuts you off, holding out the device for you to see. You curse under your breath, feeling incredibly ridiculous as you reach for it.

"Thanks–"

And then he dodges your grasp, leaving you flailing around like an idiot while he looks on with an amused half-smile. Half a smile because he knows you would kill him and then yourself if he straight-out laughed at you.

"I'll give it back if you unblock me."

Your shoulders slump and a groan leaves your lungs. "Seungcheol."

But his smile only widens because you may be glaring at him but you did just say his name. And a win is a win.

"Seriously? You're holding my phone hostage just so you can blackmail me over something so petty? Come on!"

"I'm sorry, do you know how many seal memes you've been missing out on since you blocked me? This is no laughing matter."

"I'm not the one laughing," you snap and then cross your arms in exasperation, "Don't be a child, dude, and just give me my phone."

"Why did you block me anyway?"

You raise your brows at him as if to say really? but he maintains his smile and you groan again. You hate him for knowing that you hadn't blocked him right after the breakup thanks to someone's insistence on thinking seal memes were funny and that the real resaon you'd blocked him was–

"–Siri kept recommending your contact every single time I would go to make a phone call! Heck, I couldn't even text Nayeon to get me a towel in the shower because the messages app would automatically redirect to you."

Seungcheol watches in awe as he connects the dots in his head and mutters, "You still had me saved as kkmua's dad?" You look away but your silence is enough of an answer.

It doesn't take a genius to figure out that the reason your phone confused Seungcheol with Nayeon because he was kkuma's dad and she was kookeu's mom– an idea a drunk you had found incredibly hilarous. The similarity in their spelling had your algorithm all fooled every time you typed in one or the other's name in a rush. Still, you wish Seungcheol was a little dumber sometimes.

Now as you look at Seungcheol you can see he's thinking of something. Most likely considering the question: Why didn't you change it?

"I was too lazy to change it back, okay? Blocking you was obviously the easier choice."

"I didn't say anything," he tells you with an easy smile, clearly pleased to see you flushed. "For what it's worth, you're still promising young woman in my contacts. And I didn't even have to block you."

It's probably because you've seen Seungcheol so much more than the past two months in the past two days, but you find yourself moved by his words. They're not that meaningful really, he's just bringing up a past inside joke in that reassuring tone of his. But you can't help but smile.

"I hate you," you breathe out and in the context of the conversation, it makes enough sense. But Seungcheol's dimples deepen because in the context of your history with him, the words are a consolation.

He only becomes certain of it later that night when he's washed up and throws himself into his sheets to find his phone lighting up in the darkness. It's you.

promising young woman sent you a link

promising young woman: rats actually have a great immune system so joke's on u

And that's all it takes for Seungcheol to go back to his lovesick self, squeaking into his pillow as he reads your text over and over until he can comprehend that not only have you unblocked him of your own accord (debatable) but were also texting him first.

–

The next time you run into Seungcheol, it really brings his contact name to life. But before that, enter Soobin, a shy blonde who's recently moved to the town.

"You like Lamp, huh?"

Soobin jumps around, eyes flailing around as if you'd caught him red-handed. And you might as well have, what with how he'd been humming and swaying to the music leaking out of the speakers in your bookstore. You'd enjoyed watching the younger man visit the store more frequently the past few weeks, always in the evening hours when you would finally break open your playlists, a luxury you only allowed near closing time.

"Ha," he nervous laughs, "Y-Yeah… Sorry, I didn't think you were still here."

"I run the place, Soobin. It'd be a bit of a problem if I just took off." You smile at his flustered sigh and move past him to shelf a book you'd taken out to review earlier. "Anyway, we're closing soon. You buying anything today or…?"

Soobin looks at the thick book in his hands and you recognize it as a new arrival but then he flips it around, a little unsure. "Umm, I'm not– this seems cool but also scary so probably not?"

"I'll take it off your hands then?" you offer with an understanding shrug. But he shakes his head eagerly, "No, no, don't worry. I remember where I took this from. I don't want to get in your way."

"...All right," you reply after a pause. Then, brushing your hands against your pants, "Let me know if you need help, anyway."

But Soobin's far from one to bother you as he leaves wordleslly, not without assisting you relocate some heavy boxes to the store before you lock up for the day. You're calling out goodbye after him as he takes off into the night when you hear soft barks closing in on you,

For a beat, you freeze because the sound is excruciatingly nostalgic and you genuinely think you must've time travelled when you turn around to see Seungcheol running toward you with a very excited Kkuma leading the way. You're already dropping to a squat when the dog scurries to your feet, licking at your ankle before you get your hands on her.

You let out an undignified coo at the white ball of fur, "Kkuma, my baby. Aww, baby, you're so sweet. Look at you!" You go on for a little bit, fussing over her as she rolls over for some belly rubs before you come to and become aware of the way Seungcheol stands by, patiently watching.

You slowly rise to your feet with an awkward smile.

"I'm convinced she still loves you more than me," the man starts with a pout, "And it's still so unfair. Kkuma, I'm your dad. I pay for your meals and grooming, you know?"

You laugh at the way he scolds his dog in a small voice as you retort, "Maybe she's in her rebellious years. Let her be."

Seungcheol's soft gaze lands on you with a huffed chuckle. And then he looks at something behind you. "Who was that, by the way? New conquest?"

You throw your hands up in the air. "Come on, man. You can't keep doing this!"

"Doing what?"

"Snooping around in my business! And also making me sound like some kind of a player."

Seungcheol looks down like he's reflecting. Kkuma paws at his leg with a whine and you look between them before letting out a cough.

"That was Soobin. If you must know." You look away as you say this, like it was no big deal, reporting on your customers to your ex-boyfriend because he still got all whiny when he saw you with another man. Neither of you is ready to address the meaning of your actions toward each other quite yet. So you both pretend it's normal when Seungcheol lights up a little when you speak up.

"Soobin…? Haven't hear that name before."

"Yeah, he moved in a few weeks ago. Shy guy but very smart," you say, "And I think he wants to work part-time at the bookstore."

"Woah," Seungcheol's ears perk up, "That's great, Y/N! You could totally use the help."

You turn to face him, arms crossed yet again, with a suspecting look on your face. "Hmm, I guess you could say that. I haven't popped the question yet though so don't go around spreading rumors."

"Aww, you know I would never snitch on you like that! Unless he makes a move on you, of course, because that would be a very different story–"

"Seungcheol."

Nice. That would be three points to Seungcheol if he was keeping count of how many times you'd said in his name in that grave voice of yours, indicating that you were mad but also couldn't cover up the laughter that bled into your tone anyway. And he was.

–

"What about you? You were gone a while."

Seungcheol counts his blessings every minute you spend with him, even if a lot of it was you pushing him away. But you couldn't stay consistent with your cold demeanour for much longer, not with him making sure he ran into you just as you closed your store. With Kkuma scurrying for love and his innocent blush whenever you greeted him, it wasn't long before you were letting your walls down.

So it's no surprise that you find yourself curious of what he'd been upto in the month-long visit he'd paid to his best friend.

Initially, Seungcheol's giddy ove your question, like you were on a first date all over again and not just walking along the dim grass fields like you so often did. "You know how it is with Jeonghannie. I meant to be there for a week but… one thing led to another and I was there for a while."

You fall silent, trying to imagine what it must've been like for him. "He still lives near that college, doesn't he?"

"Yeah. He's a strange fellow."

"Not that strange. College towns are like cities," you chuckle, "but with less crime and cranky people."

"I don't know, college students are pretty cranky too. Maybe even worse than the average city person." You raise a brow at Seungcheol's grimace.

"What, did Jeonghan force you to fraternize with college kids or what?"

Okay, now Seungcheol's getting a little worried when he realizes where this is going. And even though everything's in the past for him, he can't help but hesitate to tell you what exactly he'd been up to.

"...Yeah, I mean, most of his friends are college seniors. He knows them from his time there so it's pretty chill."

A few more questions from you have Seungcheol pulling out his phone to supply you with some visuals for some of the events he's mentioning and the way you softly laugh into his shoulder at the sight of the chaotic night parties has him getting a little careless.

"Wait, wait, who was that?" you stop Seungcheol's now excited swiping with a cold hand to his forearm. He freezes, more because he realizes what you're trying to see than the temperature of your body against his.

"Um, oh–" he watches dumbly as you go back a few photos to a selfie of him and a girl. They're grinning in the photo, teeth on display and cheeks clearly red from intoxication.

"Ohh, is she one of his college friends? She's cute–" You interrupt your own musings over the stranger when you go back another photo in his gallery. This time it's a photo of the girl kissing Seungcheol on the cheek, his eyes closed with a shy smile.

"That's–" Seungcheol barely opens his mouth to explain but trails off when you abruptly pull away from him. "She's– A friend… Um, goes to college in the place and she's–" He stops talking with a groan because great, all his stuttering has you side-eyeing him, no doubt recognizing the guilt swimming in his eyes.

Your voice is so small when you finally speak up, pace increasing. "That's cute," is all you say.

"Wait, Y/N, you don't understand. I know what I sound like but–"

"Just to be clear," you stop your brisk walking to hold up a hand in between you and him as if to symbolize the space there. "You don't have to explain anything to me. It's all cool, Seungcheol."

And the way you murmur his name transports him back a couple months, a similar breezy night. One where you'd pulled him away from a group dinner with your friends and looked down at your feet the whole time but your words had pierced right through his heart anyway. Even back then, you said his name softly, without any malice, but even that might've been merciful. Because what's worse is the way you uttered his name like goodbye, sincere enough to bring tears to his eyes, even now, as he watches your forlorn back disappear into the night.

Zero points to Seungcheol.

–

"Y/N, you in there?"

It takes a good minute of Nayeon repeating her questioning in increasing volume for you to finally hear her knocks over the sound of the music playing through your headphones. You frown as you uncover one ear and call out, "Nayeon? What happened?" The door to your room slowly creaks up, revealing your roommate standing there with her hands occupied, each holding up a bottle of soju invitingly.

"Wanna talk about it?"

You're already tearing up when she asks you that and by the time you've both drunk your way through the bottles, your eyes feel numb. You interrupt your own worrying over how swollen they were bound to be tomorrow when you point a finger at Nayeon and question, "I really needed this today. How'd you know?"

She smiles, "Of course I did. You ignored my text about eating at Mingyu's Kitchen and my offer to pay. Plus, you didn't do the thing you usually do where you come in and complain about your ex."

You pout, "I'm sorry. I must be so annoying."

"You are," Nayeon shrugs, "And I like it. But you know what I would like more? If you would just make up with him already."

"No."

"Is this about that one photo of some girl kissing him on the cheek? You know how petty it is to get jealous over something like that?"

"She was seriously pretty, Nayeon!" you defend yourself, "And I'm not jealous, just– just upset because he didn't tell me earlier. I feel so stupid."

"I'm sorry, babe," she mutters, rubbing your back, "He's an idiot for not just coming clean."

"I know! Even after he went sticking his nose in my business and who I slept with while he was gone!"

You sniffle, "Maybe I should just call him and tell him to never ever talk to me again. And that he's a jerk. And that I still love him."

"Wait a second," Nayeon pulls you back onto your butt on the floor, "Maybe, let's reconsider that last part?"

You're clearly more drunk than you let on because you look genuinely confused by her interjection. "What? About me hating him?"

–

When you drag yourself into work on Monday, you expect a lot of things. You see the headache coming, from last night's drinking and this morning's lack of hot water. You also know it's going to rain the whole day so it's only harder to put one foot after another to move. And where you also expect to pestered by a man: the desperate pleas don't come from Seungcheol like you'd secretly hoped.

"Soonyoung?"

The man, who'd been impatiently pacing by the entrance to your store, stops at the sound of your voice and spins around, nearly slipping over thanks to the wet ground. He throws the daunting hood covering his eyes with a bright smile as you run over and hastily unlock the store.

"Why're you out here in the rain?"

Soonyoung sighs in relief once he's inside brushing his damp pants off with a quick hand. Then, he looks up with a shy expression, "Well, I… need to ask you something."

And given his past mooning over you, when he says that with a nervous laugh, you're stiffening up because you think you know where this is going. But then, Soonyoung defies your expectations for the second time yet again.

Because where you'd expected to have to turn him down with an incompetent attempt at kindness, the next hour finds you grappling with all the information he's throwing at you.

For starters, he does ask you out. But– "It's fake. Dont worry, I'm not actually into you like that," he quickly adds with a dry laugh.

As it turns out, he's asking you to help him make a move on a girl he only recently realized he liked. Her name's Chaewon and the only thing you know about her is that she owns a strawberry farm and can sing on ocassion. So you're easily worried by this proposition, "Soonyoung, why would you pretend to be with someone else? Shouldn't you be asking her out?"

The boy heaves a sigh, "Y/N, I hate it to break it to you but nobody does that anymore. Keep up with the times, won't you? Jealousy is the new I like you."

"I'm pretty sure that's not true," you scoff out, refusing to let Soonyoung peg you as old-fashioned. Your stomach swims at his words anyway, ming wandering to your own… jealousy issues with a certain someone.

"Anyway, there's an open observatory night or something at her farm tonight with complementary dinner after. And I need you to come with me and make her jealous."

"I don't like how serious you are about this," you complain, "And I don't think I want to be a part of this evil scheme."

"Please, Y/N, you're the only one I can rely on! And you're basically a celebrity around here, when it comes to dating."

You frown, finally looking away from the shelf you'd been re-ogranizing, "What do you mean?"

Soonyoung bites his lip, clearly having said something he shouldn't have. You poke at his arm urgently with a glare. He groans, giving in, "Well, it's just… your break-up with Seungcheol was the only thing anyone could talk about last month! And then the gossip only resurfaced when he came back to town."

"What kind of gossip?" you press with narrow eyes.

"I– can't say."

"Soonyoung," you warn him, "Tell me. Or I won't pretend to be your girlfriend."

"Oh, come on! This is blackmail!"

"I thought you really wanted to be with Chaewon, no?" you question with inordinate amounts of innonence in your smile, "Makes you want to paint flowers onto the sky for her, doesn't she?"

"Fine, I'll tell you but only because this side of you is scary," the boy sighs out, "People think the reason you broke up with him was because he cheated on you. And now he's back in town so he can apologize and make up with you… or whatever."

"That's ridiculous!" you cough out, "Who's been spewing this nonsense? I'm gonna have to–"

He holds your arm in an attempt to ground you, "Nobody really thinks it's true though! And remember how you promised to not tell a soul about a word I told you today?"

"I don't because I never said that–!"

"Seungcheol's gonna be there tonight, too, if that helps?"

Soonyoung's clearly much more devious than you last remember him being but when he explains that this could be a win-win situation for both of you– where he makes Chaewon realize her feelings for him, you also make Seungcheol jealous with your little act.

And while you're sure to curse the him out for his assumption that you would want to get back with Seungcheol at all to begin with, the idea does leave an impression on you. Your mind's gears are working really hard, not just because you're trying to figure out a new spread for the monthly display at the front of your bookstore, but also because you keep finding loopholes in Soonyoung's grand plan.

"But is pretending to be together for one dinner really going to convince anyone? I mean, no offense, but nobody I know will believe that."

Soonyoung shrugs, "It's not just for one night. We're obviously going to do other stuff." You scrunch your nose up in disgust. "But think of tonight as the opening night. What we do tonight determines how the rest of our lives will pan out. We could end up lonely and dreadful if one of us messes up."

–

For all of your criticism of Soonyoung's hyperbolic description of a dubious scheme, that evening finds you making double-takes in the front camera of your phone every other minute. Yep, turns out your nose was still on your face.

"Y/N, you look great," Soonyoung calls out finally, having watched you the whole ride to the venue. It was part of his plan, of course, to make things seem more official in his words. "So can you stop?"

"Are you sure you don't like me?"

As it often happens, your own question catches you more off-guard than it does Soonyoung. Your nerves have succesfully taken over your bodily functions.

"I don't, Y/N," he responds with an easy smile, "I don't know why you keep asking me that. Do you like me or something?"

You sigh. "Sorry. It just seemed like that for a while. But I'm glad you don't, it makes things a lot easier."

"Good," he hums and then, after a beat passes, "By the way, when all of this over and both of us are hopefully happily in love with our respective partners–"

"I'm not in love with Seung–"

"And after you're done denying your feelings– Maybe we can be friends?"

You nod with a thoughtful hum, "Sure. That sounds fine. Except I thought we were already friends?"

Conversation with Soonyoung becomes a lot less tiresome when you've both established the purely platonic basis of your relationship. Which is ironic because fifteen minutes later, he's whispering in your ear to smile as he reaches for your hand. But his presence is still comforting and you find yourself wondering why you hadn't always found it this easy to be friends with him. The thought keeps you distracted momentarily and then, you lock eyes with Seungcheol.

You were standing next to Soonyoung when it happened, hand in his as he caught up with friends and purposefully showed off his new relationship. The news was as unexpected to them as it was to you this morning and keeps conversation busy enough to allow you to be completely zoned out. And then you spot Seungcheol across the room, his eyes fixed on you in the distance and his mouth set in an intimidating line.

You look away with a cough, feeling your neck grow warmer. Soonyoung senses the change in your mood and when he asks if you're okay, you lean into his ear and complain, "Fuck, I just made eye-contact with him."

He breaks into a grin at your indirect admission to still liking your ex. If Seungcheol knew the context to your arrangement with Soonyoung, he would find this entire exchange heart-warming, losing it over how shy you've gotten. But he doesn't know.

So in his eyes, it just looks like you've just whispered an inside joke into another man's ear and his chuckles are out of fondness. And that's why attributes your shy flush to Soonyoung's response to you, and not the eye-contact you'd made with him seconds ago.

Seungcheol spends the rest of the night lurking. He skirts your surroundings, his eyes in disbelief every time you don't pull away from Soonyoung's hand on you. He's confused and jealous. The combination has him malfunctioning in a corner when he spots you breaking away from Soonyoung's side for the first time that evening.

He doesn't even spare a thought to his actions when he springs forth, trailing you to the refreshments. You're trying to refill your lemonade even though you don't really have the desire to drink it anymore, mainly because Soonyoung had approached Chaewon and it seemed like his plan was working because you'd never felt so invisible in a conversation before.

You can feel the act tiring you out though because you don't notice it when Seungcheol sneaks up to your side, breathing down your neck and staring seriously even when you spin around and almost spill your drink all over yourself in surprise.

"S-Seungcheol!" you groan out, flustered but relieved your dress didn't have to suffer the consequences of your weakness around him. But your heart certainly did, especially when the man stepped closer, voice few octaves lower than usual.

"What are you doing with him?"

You go silent, knowing that you should feel unsettled by the absence of friendliness in his tone but only feel yourself enjoy the way he's so obvious about his jealousy. You look back at him, trying to seem innocent but immediately hate the way his eyes have reddened. "I'm… helping Soonyoung out."

Seungcheol's expression is a big question mark at that. A big angry question mark followed by an exclamation point, if you will. "...by following him around on his arm all night?"

"Um… yeah," you look over his shoulder to make sure Soonyoung's still occupied by Chaewon and the momentary lack of attention is already pissing your ex-boyfriend even more. You hate lying but you convince yourself that right now, you're simply witholding information from someone.

"I don't get it, Y/N," he says, "Did I lose my chance with you?"

The question catches you completely off-guard, leaving you gaping at Seungcheol. You were used to his short-temper and his incessant questions but this was new: the solemn setting of his lips and his downcast eyes as he asked you if he still stood a chance with you. He was being vulnerable, you realized, in a way that he never was during your relationship. The change is dizzying, it really is, and you can only think of all the other ways Seungcheol's been changed since he returned.

And all the ways he's stayed the same.

You swallow against the lump in your throat, "Come with me."

You lead him to a slightly more secluded part of the observatory, a dimly lit corner that's orchestrated by more crickets and the lack of chatter is a welcome relief to your already crowded senses. "I'm not actually with Soonyoung," you breathe out, the truth weighing heavily on your tongue even though you'd only pretended for the one night, "I'm pretending to, because he asked me to."

Seungcheol's eyes widen, "What? You're fake-dating that guy? Why?"

"He likes Chaewon," you point them out for him over his shoulder but Seungcheol only stares at your face with a serious expression. You retract your pointer with a flushed face, "And they were apparently getting nowhere, despite both liking each other. So he figured he needed some intervention."

You point to yourself this time with a half-smile and then remember the unimpressed look on Seungcheol's face. You watch his face carefully but he remains still for over a minute.

"Well, I'm only telling you because you asked so nicely," you clear your throat, feeling a little stupid now that he's gone mute, "Do with that what you will. I'm gonna go back…"

You pat your dress down and exhale heavily, trying to steel yourself against both the disappointment and the cold night-air. You've already rejoined the noisy crowd, only a few steps away when you pick up on Seungcheol's voice.

"--meant nothing…" is all you can pick up so you turn around to find him at an arm's length, muttering something, too low for it to be audible. You say, "What did you say?"

"I said that the photo you saw that day meant nothing. She's Jeonghan's girlfriend and I slept with her once. I also pretended to be into her but only so I could forget about you."

More than anything, you're shocked by the way he emphasizes you, the word coming out stronger than the rest of his explanation, one that does more to soothe your nerves than you realize. But you also don't know what to with this new information, because your brain can't keep up with how much more context there might be to it– Why did he sleep with her if she's with Jeonghan? And why did he look so happy in the photo if it meant nothing?

But tonight isn't about you, it's about Soonyoung and you've made a promise to him. So you tell Seungcheol, "I've gotta get back, Cheol–" the nickname slips out before you've censored yourself. Your face burns but you turn away quickly. "I- See you later."

The crowd is so close to you, just another step or two and you could be lost in the sea of half-familiar faces and probably get caught up in catching up with someone or the other. But if the crowd is close, then Seungcheol is closer to you.

His hands are on your shoulders, warm heat invading your exposed arms pleasantly when he holds you back with that pained look of his. At this point, you're only partly grounded in your body, floating around when you hear Seungcheol's words to you. "I'm still in love with you, Y/N. Never stopped loving you, to be honest."

That brings you back to earth with a jerk and you blink at him slowly. "I–" you start and then trail off. Then you start again, now that reality's starting to set again. "I feel the same. Obviously. I tried to move on but– ugh, I still love you." You feel Seungcheol's arm slide down to your elbows and then to find your hands, intertwining your fingers with his like he'd imagined doing ever since he got back to town.

"So we're good?" Seungcheol asks you, licking his lips with a small smile.

"Um, well, what do you mean by that because if– I mean, if we're friends–" You're trying to think of a way to state your thoughts in a self-respectful way when he leans in, lips brushing against your with a soft sigh. Your own breath hitches, especially when Seungcheol's hands come up to cup your face with a gentleness you forgot he could muster. He kisses you, sweet and soft, and when you pull away it's with a stupid grin.

He matches your grin, "Does that make things clear? We're not friends. I want to kiss your face and it would be great if you stopped pretending to date other men–"

The mention of fake-dating has you gasping loudly as you push Seungcheol away hastily, "Fuck, I'm supposed to be with–" You turn around and no doubt, everyone rushes to look away but you know the damage has been done when you hear scattered applause and whistles. The sight is heart-warming to you in a universe where you haven't just fucked up a plan.

"I messed up big-time," you tell Seungcheol with an exasperated groan.

The man regards you with thinly-concealed glee, "We kiss and make up but you're complaining because…?"

"Soonyoung! I was supposed to–"

Seungcheol doesn't do anything to help when he leans in to peck your lips again. You scowl at him, "What was that for?"

"Sorry, I just forgot what I was to you for a moment there, what with you going on about another man–"

"Cheol, I just confessed my love to you," you scold him but your ears turn pink, "And you're my boyfriend. So don't forget that. But right now, I need to go find my fake-boyfriend or I'll have blood on my hands–"

You're rushing to spot Soonyoung's head in the crowd when he suddenly appears, much closer than you'd anticipated, probably because he's heading right at you. You start to feel the guilt build up in your throat but then you see the grin he's sporting and the way he's skipping toward you.

"Soonyoung," you call out, "I'm sorry–" you gesture toward Seungcheol vaguely, "I got a little caught up."

"Ahh, don't worry about it!" the boy chuckles lightly and then crosses his arms like he does when he has something to tell you, "I'm– The plan worked!"

"What?! It did? But I thought–?"

"Yeah, well, one part of the plan was to get you and Seungcheol together?" Soonyoung reminds you with a sly smile. You feel Seungcheol's arm around you as he pipes up, "It was???" You ignore how excited he sounds and narrow your eyes at Soonyoung, "Okay, but we clearly just ruined the whole act! What about–"

"Chaewon got jealous. And then when we spotted you and Seungcheol kissing, she was about to be really mad at you but I explained things to her… and then, she was mad at me but then… um, well, we, you know, kissed it out."

"Soonyoung!" you exclaim, clapping your hands together in relief, "That's great! We don't have to date anymore!"

Soonyoung laughs at your phrasing but you're busy being wooed by the smitten smile on Seungcheol's face when squeezes your hand, muttering, "You all mine now?"

–

Cue star-gazing with Seungcheol.

It was his idea, one he'd suggested out loud to you over the dinner that was also his idea, the candle between you flickering with your breathless agreement. You were in love with Seungcheol like you'd been for as long as you remember. The break-up, creeping up into your mind thanks to a combination of a lull in your relationship with him and doubts of whether there might be someone else for both of you, seemed like a faraway event already when you resumed your life with him.

"The stars are pretty, aren't they?"

You hum in agreement to Seungcheol, fiddling with his fingers. His laughter bleeds into your body, "You're not even looking up at the sky, baby."

You shift to lay down next to him. "I was!" you defend, "But then I got scared. The stars just make me feel so insignificant. And temporary." Your voice breaks a little, "I don't want temporary."

Seungcheol wraps around you, bringing your face up to his and watching you blink the tears out of yours. "Oh, doll, you're so precious," he huffs out, running a thumb under your eyes, "I love you. Fuck being temporary, okay? I'm going to be with you forever."

"You can't guarantee that though," you mumble out.

"I know I can't. Because I could die before you or like be abducted by the aliens when they inevitably come colonize us. We all know I'd be their first pick."

"You know that's not what I meant."

"Y/N, we're still together, even after we broke up," he kisses your cheek to emphasize your togetherness, "We're in love, despite it all. And that seems solid enough to me, you know? The scariest part of going into a relationship is the possibility of separating. But if we've done it before, how bad can it be?"

"What if we break up again?"

"Then we'll figure something out," Seungcheol says, "I know we will. It might not be the same as always but I promise I'll always be a part of your life for as long as I can."

You sniffle into his shoulder, "I love you. Can you please beg the aliens to take me with you?"

Seungcheol's laughter resounds through you yet again, a hand brushing your hair lovingly. You were finally wearing your hair down again, and it might've something to do with the way he would find a way to slip the hairtie out of its place. It sits around his wrist now, worn-out but incredibly dear to him.

"Of course, love, anything for you."

–

AUTHOR'S NOTE:

the seungcheol brainrot never stops <3 i hope i've done this seungcheol justice, given what he went through in jeonghan's fic lol... anyway, i'm thinking of writing another part where jeongcheol catch up or something?? may be an interesting collision of worlds... we'll see.

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shuaflix · 2 years

Text

roommates with benefits

❝ y/n, you can’t keep staying here. you’ve been living in my room for like, two weeks now. you don’t even pay rent. ❞

PAIRING ▸ jeon wonwoo x fem!reader

GENRES ▸ smut, fluff, humor, college au, roommate au, frat au

WARNINGS ▸ profanity, shy!wonwoo, he’s a bit of an overthinker too, classic “share a bed” trope, sort of friends with benefits, unprotected sex, fingering, praise

SUMMARY ▸ initially, wonwoo doesn’t think much about your incessant requests to play on his xbox. however, when what was supposed to be a two-hour visit to his place stretches out for two weeks, he starts to think you’re overstaying your welcome.

PLAYLIST ▸ seventeen by girls generation • in my dreams by red velvet

WORD COUNT ▸ 6,467 words

AUTHOR’S NOTE ▸ here’s me impulsively writing another short lil fic in 1-2 days because the wonwoo brainrot’s been hitting me :’) tbh just wrote this bc i’ve been obsessed with omori LOL but hope u guys enjoy !! ♡

ON A FRIDAY AFTERNOON, JEON WONWOO FOUND HIMSELF BEING INTERROGATED BY YOU.

“Wonwoo! You have the Xbox Game Pass?”

He was taken aback by your question. Minutes ago, he was diligently studying in the library with Kwon Soonyoung when you approached him. Lee Chan was following after you with an exasperated look on his face, sending Wonwoo silent, apologetic looks. Your face, on the other hand, looked like a collision of supernovas with the intensity of the sparkle in your eyes.

For a moment, Wonwoo wondered if you had picked up some new interest in broadcasting. There had to be a mic clipped to your shirt. If his vision wasn’t so shitty, maybe he could spot the hidden camera focusing on him.

“Uh…” He sat up straighter and nodded. (He was camera-shy—and people-shy, but that was beside the point.) “Yeah, I do. Why?”

You beamed. “Can I come over and play on your Xbox?”

Wonwoo frowned, his nose scrunching up in distaste. He had known you sort of well over the past three years of his college experience, but it was mostly because you were good friends with Chan and Kim Mingyu. He always saw you hanging out with them at the Lambda Tau Upsilon house, usually when they were cleaning up during the mornings after parties. That was the sole basis of his connection with you—small talk here and there at his frat house.

He had no idea why you were taking an interest in him all of a sudden. Well, to be fair, he supposed you were more interested in his Xbox.

Maybe this was some dare that Yoon Jeonghan set you up to. Get close to him, get in his room, and find out how much of a nerd he is. Yeah, that was something Jeonghan was capable of doing. There was a reason why Choi Seungcheol chose Joshua Hong to be his Vice President of Internal Affairs instead of Jeonghan.

But Wonwoo had three sets of eyes staring him down, so he knew he had to answer you fast.

“Uh, sure?”

“Great! Thank you!” you exclaimed, looking way too excited for Wonwoo to feel at ease. “We have the same o-chem lab, right? If you don’t have any classes after, I’ll just come home with you.”

Before Wonwoo could hesitantly agree, Soonyoung asked, “Why do you want his Xbox, Y/N? You gonna break that too?”

The teasing inflection in his tone reminded Wonwoo of when you were drunk at their house a few weeks ago. Mingyu kept pouring more into your cup until you were falling all over the place. It was only after you fell onto the kitchen table, causing one of the legs to snap off, when Xu Minghao took you upstairs to sober up. (It was just so that he could contain you and keep you from damaging more of their property.)

You looked embarrassed, a hand flying to rub the back of your neck. “You guys won’t let me live that down, huh? I’m not getting wasted like that again, I swear,” you promised. “Anyway, I wanna play Omori, but I don’t wanna buy the game.”

“She’s been talking about it non-stop ever since her favorite YouTuber played it,” Chan grumbled. “I think I know more about that stupid game than I do about fluid mechanics right now.”

Wonwoo raised a brow. “Isn’t your midterm in twenty minutes?”

“Yeah, which is why I want Y/N to hurry up so that I can get some cramming in,” he sneered.

You threw Chan a glance over your shoulder. “Jeez, it’s not my fault you didn’t study earlier.”

“C’mon, Y/N, leave Wonwoo alone and buy the game yourself,” Soonyoung teased. “Support your local game developers or whatever.”

“And I’m sure they would want to support local broke college students,” she replied before pointing at Wonwoo. “After o-chem?”

Wonwoo just nodded in response, leaving you grinning before you walked off with Chan. He shook his head after you dropped the conversation, wondering if that entire encounter was even real. Judging by Soonyoung’s tutting, though, it very much was.

“On the bright side,” his friend started, “we can finally tell the guys you have a real girl over.”

“Shut up, Soonyoung.”

Wonwoo didn’t sit anywhere near you in his organic chemistry class. In fact, he was pretty sure he only noticed you were in the class about a month in.

Today, however, you walked right over and sat at his table. Right next to him. Knees bumping against each other every now and then. Wonwoo wasn’t very good with girls, and he especially didn’t know how to handle the ones as forward as you were. It wasn’t the closeness that freaked him out, but the fact that you were so confident about your every action and word.

“Hey,” he greeted awkwardly. “You usually sit on the other side, don’t you?”

“Yeah, but I’m gracing you with my presence since you’re letting me play on your Xbox,” you replied with a grin. “I still need to figure out a way to pay you back. Want me to get you lunch sometime or something?”

“No, no, it’s okay,” he said. “You don’t have to pay me back or anything. It’s free on my game pass anyway.”

You hummed in agreement, turning away to pay attention to the lecture afterward. Wonwoo did the same, though he couldn’t shake off the feeling that he didn’t answer correctly. It was like he was playing an otome game and choosing all the incorrect options.

After class, he told you he would be back as soon as he returned a textbook to the library. There, he ran into Lee Seokmin, who was practically living out in the study hub because he went inactive in the frat this semester due to poor grades. Wonwoo ended up explaining the situation he was in, from you asking to go over to his place to asking if you could get him lunch to pay him back.

“Isn’t she just hitting on you?” Seokmin asked in that innocent, questioning tone of his.

Jeon Wonwoo realized he was an idiot.

Wonwoo’s room wasn’t incredibly huge or anything, but he had a good amount of space for a bed, a desk, a couch, and his flat-screen TV that one of the alumni fraternity members let him have for free.

So, while he was working on a paper at his desk, he had a clear view of you buzzing with excitement with the Xbox controller in your hand.

“Hey, Woo, wanna watch me play?” you called from the couch.

He stiffened at the nickname. Despite his reaction, a surprisingly pleasant feeling spread across his chest, making him feel all warm and gushy. He normally wasn’t called by a nickname (save for Mingyu’s flirty comments when he was drunk), so he felt a little flustered.

“Uh, I have work to do right now,” he said. “Maybe in an hour or so?”

You shrugged. “Suit yourself.”

Wonwoo wasn’t able to focus, though. Seokmin’s words were getting to his head, making his brain feel all muddled and fuzzy. Were you really trying to hit on him earlier? And was he supposed to take you up on the offer? He actually felt bad for making you “repay” him when he was letting you have access to his free games. That was the whole reason why he turned you down.

And… deep, deep down, he could admit to himself that you were cute. The fact that someone like you (confident, desired, pretty) was flirting with someone like him (shy, awkward, stiff) was rather amazing, really.

Wonwoo tried to tune you out, which was pretty easy to do considering you were a pretty quiet gamer (save for the few giggles here and there). However, he was so immersed in writing his essay that several hours slipped by without him realizing. Before he knew it, it was almost 8 P.M. and you were still in the same position, eyes fixed on the screen.

It was kind of cute how focused you were, so Wonwoo didn’t want to disturb your gaming. However, it was getting late and he didn’t want to be sending you home in the dark.

“Hey, uh… do you need to get home soon?” he asked.

You hardly spared him a glance. “Nah, it’s okay.”

Wonwoo wondered if you knew how to pick up on cues.

“I’m gonna order take-out for dinner,” he said, realizing that he hadn’t eaten and didn’t exactly want to go downstairs and let his frat brothers know that you were in his room. “You want anything?”

At the mention of food, you set the controller down and turned to him, eyes sparkling under the dim light. “What’re you getting?”

“Panda Express,” he answered. “I’m craving orange chicken.”

“Ooh, get me a bowl,” you said. “I’ll Venmo you the money.”

To his surprise, you sent him the money before he was even able to order. Wonwoo recalled late nights when you and Chan were studying at the dining table with Panda Express take-out bags next to your laptops. You must have had your regular order completely memorized.

“Hey, uh,” he started, “it’s getting dark, and I don’t really feel comfortable sending you home alone so… do you want a ride or something?”

The nervous flash across your face almost went by undetected.

Almost.

“That’s okay,” you said. “I can go by myself.”

“You are not going alone,” Wonwoo decided firmly, taking on a more domineering aura from before. He wasn’t one to be forceful, but there was no way he would let you walk alone this late at night, especially in Frat Row. He let out a soft sigh. “If anything, you can crash here for the night, but I’m not letting you go alone unless you get someone to take you.”

He could see you fighting down a giggle, and it made Wonwoo feel even more embarrassed by his words.

“Yes, sir,” you replied sarcastically, enjoying how the tips of Wonwoo’s ears turned red. He half-expected you to call for Mingyu or Chan, but instead you made yourself comfortable where you were seated. “I’ll sleep on the couch, then.”

He paused. “Sure.”

You were sleeping in Wonwoo’s room tonight.

You were sleeping in certified loser Jeon Wonwoo’s room tonight.

He was mentally freaking out.

Was this supposed to be a normal thing? Was he supposed to act cool about this? Wonwoo was clueless on the protocol for these sorts of situations. He barely had girls over in his room let alone had them sleep in them. This didn’t feel reflective of the gentlemanly image he had been upholding for years now.

He could practically hear the teasing he’d get from the other boys if they found out. Jeonghan and Minghao were early birds, so it would be impossible to avoid them in the morning. Minghao would probably let it go eventually, save for a few teases here and there. Jeonghan, on the other hand, would make it everyone’s business.

So, in short, Wonwoo was royally screwed.

The least he could do now was be hospitable, and making you sleep on the couch didn’t seem hospitable at all. His couch wasn’t uncomfortable, but it wasn’t exactly made to be slept on. He remembered when Vernon Chwe crashed on his couch after a party one night (Seungkwan and Soonyoung were passed out on his bed), and the poor guy woke up with a neck sprain the next morning.

“Let me take the couch,” Wonwoo offered. “You can sleep on my bed.”

“What?” You frowned. “No, I couldn’t do that. You’re already being so kind by letting me stay.”

“The couch isn’t really that comfy.”

“All the more reason why I should sleep on it, then,” you said with an air of finality. “I’m the one crashing here, so it’s not fair if you take the couch.”

Wonwoo sighed. “Why don’t we both sleep on the bed, then?” he blurted out.

He processed it.

And processed it.

And realized how fucking shameless he sounded.

“Whoa,” he mumbled. “Sorry, you don’t have to—”

“Sure,” you replied, looking down at the controller, fingers fiddling with the left thumbstick. “Only if you’re comfortable with that.”

Wonwoo’s jaw went slack, partly out of surprise and partly because he knew he should have been saying something to diffuse the tension he created. Just as he was about to start rambling, Mingyu’s voice rang from downstairs.

“Wonwoo! Your Panda Express is here!” he yelled. “Bro, why’d you order two bowls?”

“Uh… I’m hungry!” Wonwoo shouted back. He spared you a glance before walking to the door. “I’ll go get our food real quick.”

He retrieved the bag from Mingyu, trying to avoid eye contact because he was sure he would give himself away. None of them had any idea you were still here, probably expecting that you had your fun with his Xbox for a few hours before leaving. Wonwoo considered himself an expert in keeping his face clear of all emotion, but Mingyu always read him like a book. It was honestly scary how perceptive his friend was.

When he returned, you were clearing the coffee table in front of you to lay out the food. Wonwoo set the bag down and let you grab your bowl and utensils. He sat on the floor and opened his own, snickering at the sight of you already digging in before he could even open the lid.

“Did you not have lunch or something?” he asked.

“Nope,” you answered. “Didn’t have time to pick it up from the dining hall.”

“You don’t make breakfast at home?”

“Uh… not really.”

Wonwoo hummed. “You could’ve asked one of us to get you something. You shouldn’t be putting off eating until dinner. Three meals a day is important, you know? Or at least like, two.”

You giggled in response. “I can’t tell if you sound like a dad or a boyfriend right now.”

Wonwoo couldn’t stop the blush that spread across his cheeks at your words.

He couldn’t tell either.

After you both finished dinner, Wonwoo let you borrow a towel and clothes so that you could shower. One of the nice things about his room was that he had an attached bathroom. Before the school year even started, Wonwoo knew that he didn’t want to share a common bathroom with twelve other guys.

What he failed to consider, though, was that you would walk back into his room wearing only his loose shirt that fell past your thighs.

“Your pants didn’t fit,” you explained, holding it out to him.

Wonwoo took it gingerly, clearing his throat so that he could ignore all the impure thoughts circulating through his head. He was supposed to be a gentleman, and thinking about how good your hair smelled was making him feel like scum.

“Are you heading to bed now?” he asked, putting his sweatpants back in his drawer before moving to the far end of his twin XL. (It wasn’t very far.)

“Mm, yeah,” you said, running a hand through your hair before rummaging through your bag. After a moment, you asked, “Do you have any moisturizer?”

“Bathroom. Top shelf.”

“Thanks.”

You came back after a few minutes, and Wonwoo was turned to the wall so that he could offer just a little privacy. The entire situation had his heart thundering in his chest. You slid under the covers, the dip in the mattress making Wonwoo hyper aware of your presence.

There was a difference of five inches between a twin and a twin XL sized bed. That five inches was in length, so it had nothing to do with the distance between you and Wonwoo. It offered no safe distance that kept him from feeling your warmth against his back. The three inches of space between you two was way too small.

“Do you have enough space?” he asked in a low voice.

“Kinda,” you replied, but Wonwoo wasn’t satisfied with that answer.

Kinda from you sounded more like “barely.” You had a tendency to play things down, as Wonwoo noticed.

He sat up to peer at your side of the bed. Just as he thought, one of your legs was hanging off the bed while the rest of your body barely managed to fit.

“Let’s switch,” he insisted, getting up before you could even turn his offer down.

“O-okay.” You scooted to the other end of the bed where the wall kept you from falling off. You turned so that you were facing Wonwoo, and he swallowed hard. “Are you sure? I don’t want you falling off.”

“Then what do you suppose we do?” He chuckled. “It’s fine. It’s one night.”

His breath hitched when you wrapped an arm around his waist, holding him secure. Wonwoo had never intended to get this close to you, and this was defeating the purpose of all the walls he set up around you. It was already impossible to resist you, and this was making it even harder for him.

“Let’s just get closer,” you said softly. “Then you won’t fall off.”

You had a point.

Wonwoo moved closer so that his body was pressed up against you. Seeing your head against his chest was making him go crazy, so he stretched his arm out across the pillow.

“If it’s comfortable,” he began, “you can lay on my arm.”

You took his offer with a pleased smile on your face, cuddling closer to him for warmth. This was definitely not what friends did, was it? Hell, were you two even friends? Wonwoo would have considered you to have been more of an acquaintance with your limited interactions.

He swallowed hard, trying to control his heartbeat because he swore you could hear it. It got even worse when he felt your leg brush against his.

“Sorry,” you mumbled.

“It’s all good. My bed’s kinda small.”

You shuffled. “Sorry, I’m just—”

“Y/N,” Wonwoo muttered. “Hold still.”

“I’m trying, it’s just—”

“My god,” he whispered, and he couldn’t stop his next words from spilling out. “Was that you?”

“W-what?” you stuttered.

Wonwoo felt it again. Against his leg. He didn’t dare look because he was frozen in place and it was dark, but he swore his leg found its way between yours. Something pulsated against his thigh, and he had a good feeling he knew what it was.

“I was asking if that was—”

Wonwoo cut himself off when he shifted forward a little, rousing a soft, contented sigh from your lips. He froze when he heard the sound of pleasure right against his chest. It was the kind of sound he had never heard from you before—one that he didn’t even know you could make. It was straight out of a wet dream or a fantasy, but Wonwoo was pretty sure you were getting aroused because of him.

He could hear the desperation in your tone when you admitted, “Sorry, yeah, I was getting turned on.”

Something in Wonwoo snapped.

It wasn’t like he never got horny, but he always knew how to reign in his hormones. Maybe it was due to the fact that Wonwoo was a hormonal college student who hadn’t gotten laid in a while, but suddenly he wanted to do nothing but tear your clothes off and show you what he had been suppressing this entire time.

Wonwoo was gentle at first, really. He tilted your chin up so that he could kiss you gently. You reciprocated almost immediately, one hand bunching up the fabric of his shirt as you melted into it. Wonwoo only started to get riled up once he slipped his tongue past your lips, pressing your body flush against his.

He pushed your hips down into the mattress and angled himself over you, rolling his hips into yours at a steady rhythm. Wonwoo grunted at the sounds of your muffled whimpers, and when he came to his senses, he realized it was because he had a hand over your mouth.

“This okay?” he asked. You made a sound of agreement, and Wonwoo chuckled, removing his hand from your mouth.

“F-feels good,” you stuttered out. “More.”

“Don’t be too loud,” he mumbled. “These walls are thin.”

You nodded eagerly, eyes screwed shut as you tried to contain yourself. Wonwoo felt like his head was clouding over, lust overtaking every rational bone in his body. He was tugging down your shorts before he could even process what he was about to do.

Fucking you was something out of a dream. Wonwoo hadn’t thought of it much because you two kept a pretty cordial relationship, but now he wanted to do nothing else but have his way with you.

“Such a tease,” he grumbled. “Wearing my shirt and nothing else.”

“That—that was the plan.”

He prodded at your clothed slit with careful fingers, tutting lightly at how soaked you were. “For me? Already?”

You whined. “Wonwoo, please.”

“Want my fingers or my mouth?” he asked, and when you stilled, looking like you were having a hard time deciding, Wonwoo decided to choose for you. “Fingers it is, doll.”

He moved your underwear aside so that he could rub his fingers against your cunt, groaning at how he could feel you throbbing for him. Once Wonwoo decided you had enough with the teasing, he slid two fingers into you slowly. Your walls instantly clenched around his fingers, but he waited until you had adjusted properly.

“So wet for me,” he growled in your ear.

You didn’t know he could talk this dirty; it was clear by the way you were looking up at him so innocently, like you hadn’t been the one making moves on him all day. Wonwoo didn’t know either, though. You were bringing out a side to him that he never tapped into before.

He fingered you expertly, making sure to scissor his fingers inside you when your tight walls started easing up on him. Wonwoo shuddered at the sounds you were making and stared down at the spot where his fingers disappeared inside you. When he felt your thighs starting to quiver, he sped up his pace. His fingers were moving in and out of you so smoothly that he didn’t stop the rhythm even as you came undone around him.

You slapped a hand over your mouth this time to muffle your cries. Wonwoo was more than pleased with your reaction, helping you ride out your orgasm by rubbing your clit with his thumb.

“Good girl,” he praised. He pressed a kiss to your forehead and sat up on his knees, tugging his sweatpants and boxers down. “You ready to go again?”

“Please,” you begged, arching your back so that you could tug down your underwear and kick it off your ankles.

The lights were off, but he could clearly see your body illuminated by the moonlight. Wonwoo pressed kisses from your thighs to your hips, slowly sliding your shirt up as he kissed up your stomach and chest. Then, he helped you get rid of your shirt entirely, groaning at the sight of your body laid bare for him.

“Are you ready?” he asked, lining up his cock at your entrance. “I’ll take it slow.”

You nodded, wrapping your arms around his neck. “Mmhm.”

Wonwoo pushed himself inside you carefully, making sure to slow down and wait for you to adjust whenever he saw your face scrunching up. When you whined for him to keep going, he slid into you fully, groaning at the feeling of your walls around his throbbing cock.

“Fuck,” he growled out. “You feel amazing, Y/N.”

“W-Wonwoo, go,” you moaned.

He gripped your hips and started thrusting in and out of you at a steady pace, slowly working his way up until you could take him without any winces or flashes of discomfort. Soon, Wonwoo was pressing open-mouthed kisses to your neck as he pounded into you, listening to your moans and whimpers like it was his favorite song.

You felt so perfect around him, like Wonwoo was meant to bury his cock inside you like this. He held you down and thrusted in you harder, fucking you like a well-oiled machine until you were squirming underneath him.

“I-I’m close,” you whispered.

He buried his face into the crook of your neck, nodding before he sped up his pace, making sure to hit that sweet spot right under your cervix. Wonwoo continued fucking you until he had to slap his hand around your mouth to muffle your loud cries. You fell off the edges right before him, and he could feel it in the way you were clenching and unclenching around him.

The intensity of your orgasm drove him to his own high, making him pull out so that he could cum on your stomach. Wonwoo panted heavily, collapsing beside you and turning so that he could work his fingers on your clit until your orgasm subsided. You were a whimpering and writhing mess, but you had never looked so beautiful to him.

“So…” you started, chest heaving as you caught your breath, “that just happened.”

“It did,” he mumbled. “Did you like it?”

Maybe it was that twinge of anxiousness that lingered at the back of Wonwoo’s head. He wasn’t the type to be able to just fuck people and go; there was a sense of closeness he felt after sex, and it was hitting hard right now. He respected your decision, of course, if all you wanted was some dick, but he knew he would be feeling like shit afterward.

To his relief, though, you managed a beaming smile through your labored breaths.

“Yeah,” you whispered, “I liked it a lot.”

It was strange how things seemed to develop between you and Wonwoo so naturally.

One day you two were on a small talk basis, and the next you were practically his roommate. You seemed to be unfazed about everything, but Wonwoo couldn’t help but think about how weird it was that he hadn’t ever seen you go home since the day he fucked you for the first time.

The first time, meaning there were many, many other times. His daily routine consisted of waking up, going to class, coming home to you playing on his Xbox, fucking you, doing some homework, fucking you again, and then going to bed. It was honestly surprising how you never got tired of all the positions you tried out with him.

Earlier in the week, Wonwoo fucked you in his shower so that it would drown out your moans. Unfortunately, he underestimated how slippery shower sex was, and he had to explain the loud crash to everyone living in the frat house because of this.

So, now, everyone found out about your little arrangement. You and Wonwoo weren’t exactly dating, but there was definitely something going on.

It wasn’t just sex, though. If it was just sex, Wonwoo wouldn’t have questioned it, but you two ended up looking more like a couple half the time. Last week, Wonwoo took you to an art museum, and you two spent the entire day holding hands and looking at the art pieces together. He only registered it as a date when he took you to a tofu house afterward and laughed at the sight of you failing to crack open your egg.

Moreover, your pillow talks were getting a little serious. Wonwoo would finish inside you and then proceed to listen to you talk about your day, all the while stroking your hair and rubbing circles on your arm. You two had discourses about philosophy, watched TikToks in bed, and even bought a succulent to raise together. It was definitely well past a normal friends with benefits relationship.

When Wonwoo confided in Soonyoung about his peculiar situationship with you, he came to wonder if he was just being used for his Xbox. That couldn’t possibly be the case, though, because you would’ve left by now.

Omori was a game that took around twenty hours to reach completion. Wonwoo was certain about this; he did his research (aka consulting the Steam community). Statistically speaking, you should have beaten the game by now.

Maybe you just sucked at the game. Some people just didn’t have any gaming sense, as Seungcheol discovered when he played co-op with Chan. Wonwoo didn’t want to accidentally offend you by mentioning that you should have finished the game by now, so he took a less aggressive route.

“How long is this game?” he asked one evening as he sat next to you on the couch.

“Around twenty hours if you play in one go,” you answered, like you were reading off the Steam community discussion page verbatim.

Wonwoo was shocked. If you knew how long the game was, then why hadn’t you given up already? You had definitely been playing for way more than twenty hours. Maybe even twice that amount.

“You’ve practically been living in my house for two weeks now,” he said. “You haven’t hit twenty hours yet?”

“Well, there’s side quests and stuff, you know?” you answered, which was actually a good point. Wonwoo was a sucker for side quests, especially in indie games. “But I finished the game last week. I’m playing another route now.”

Ah, routes.

Routes that made video games worth the money because there were so many different outcomes one could achieve. Routes that made people keep replaying the same game over and over again just to get an alternative ending for a measly achievement or two. Routes that immersed people into different storylines and character developments.

Routes that made you stay over at Jeon Wonwoo’s house for two whole weeks.

You were playing another route. Meaning, it would potentially take the same amount of time or more to replay the game. Meaning, you would be sleeping in Wonwoo’s twin XL for longer. It would be nearing a month at this rate.

“Y/N, you can’t keep staying here,” Wonwoo said. “You’ve been living in my room for like, two weeks now. You don’t even pay rent.”

You frowned. “You pay rent?”

“Of course I pay rent! Everyone pays rent! Now go back to your place.”

“But your Xbox is here.”

He brushed a few strands of hair behind your ear. “You can come back anytime to play it, but I feel guilty making you pay rent for your place when you’re living out in my room, okay? So go home.”

“But…”

Wonwoo sighed. It wasn’t that you were overstaying your welcome. In fact, he liked having you around. It was great that he was allowed to have his own room in a house full of messy frat boys, but it did get lonely sometimes. Your presence was a refreshing change. It was getting hard to ignore the looks he got when he would leave for class in the morning with you following behind him like a duckling, though.

“Y/N, is there something else going on?” Wonwoo asked with a light sigh. He turned his body so that he could look at you properly, watching as you hesitated to set the controller down for a moment. “Are you avoiding going back to your place for any particular reason?”

You let out an awkward laugh, voice trailing off toward the end when you said, “It’s not like there’s exactly a home to go back to…”

“What do you mean?” Wonwoo narrowed his eyes. You never seemed to have an issue with your apartment in the past (at least from what he observed) other than your occasional complaints about your roommate. “Is something going on?”

You finally set the controller down and turned to face him, sighing heavily. Only when your body was turned to him did Wonwoo realize how close you two were on the couch. He felt compelled to place a hand on your shoulder or something—squeeze it, maybe. He wasn’t the best when it came to comforting people, but it looked like you could really use a hug.

“My roommate got us evicted a few weeks ago,” you admitted with a newfound sense of shame that Wonwoo had never seen from you before. “Honestly, it’s partly my fault because I was throwing a few kickbacks in the beginning of the year. Music got a little loud sometimes so we got a few noise complaints. I toned it way down when we got a warning, though, so I told my roommate to be careful, too.” Your eyes got watery as you spoke, and Wonwoo could tell where this was going. “Basically, when I visited home a few weeks ago, I came back to find out that we were getting evicted and my roommate decided to not let me know until I got back.”

“That’s horrible,” Wonwoo mumbled. He decided to go ahead and squeeze your shoulder, ignoring his pre-existing dilemma over whether to do it or not. To his relief, you looked more at ease once he did. “Do you have any back-up place to stay or something?”

“Um…” You sniffled, wiping a stray tear that had been building up at your waterline. “I dunno. I moved some of my stuff in Mina’s garage for now, but I don’t think I can keep it there forever. She doesn’t really have any more space in her house unless I couch surf or something.”

“So that’s why you’ve been crashing here,” Wonwoo concluded, the dots finally connecting in his head.

You looked ashamed but nodded. “I’m sorry.” You pointed to your laptop that was sitting on his nightstand. “I’ve been looking for a place to stay, I swear. It’s just that it’s so hard to find a sub-leaser this late in the school year.”

“No, no, don’t be,” he murmured. “Um… you can stay here until you find a new place, okay? However long it takes.”

You mustered a smile, which made Wonwoo’s heart swell a little. “Thanks, Woo.”

Maybe it was because you were just so vulnerable in front of him or maybe Wonwoo was just thinking about how your smile was the most beautiful thing in the world, but he ended up leaning over and kissing you gently. You froze for a moment before kissing him back, moving your hand so that it was sliding up to the back of his neck. Wonwoo tilted your chin up and rubbed small circles along your jaw with his thumb as his lips moved against yours in perfect synchrony.

When he pulled back, he smiled fondly at how flustered you looked.

He murmured, “Just doing what any decent boyfriend would do.”

You didn’t respond right away.

Wonwoo waited.

Waited.

And he realized.

He just called himself your boyfriend.

The panic came crashing down on him immediately after. Wonwoo’s brain was going haywire over what he had just said, and he had no idea how to recover from it. He should have corrected himself or tried to laugh it off, but that would probably be insensitive.

Did he want to be your boyfriend? Yes, he wanted nothing more than to put a label on what was going on between you two. The confusion was driving him crazy, hence his fuck-up two seconds ago.

Your eyes were wide as discs. “You just…”

“I’m so sorry,” he mumbled. “I… I wasn’t thinking.”

“You just said boyfriend!” you exclaimed. “Which… which would mean I’m your girlfriend.”

“Yes,” Wonwoo replied, wincing at your reiteration. “I’m aware I said that.”

Your voice then dropped about two octaves, and Wonwoo had never seen you so shy. “Wait, so, you don’t wanna be?”

He turned to look at you, eyes widening at your words. Were you implying what he thought you were implying? The way you were nervously picking at your nails could only make him assume you were anticipating more.

He swallowed hard. “You’d be okay with dating me?”

“Okay?” you echoed, scoffing a little. “I thought you were a genius or something, Woo. How could you be so dense? I’ve been waiting for you to ask me out for ages!”

Wonwoo’s mouth went dry. “I… I—yeah, um…” After floundering for words for a solid minute, he composed himself and asked straightforwardly, “I know this is long overdue, but will you officially be my girlfriend, Y/N?”

A pretty smile spread across your face as you wrapped your arms around his neck. “Of course, idiot.”

You kissed him with such affection that Wonwoo didn’t realize he had been craving for a long time, and this, he realized, was bliss.

You never found another place to rent.

That was fine, though, because Wonwoo didn’t mind you staying at his place.

Sure, he had to have a long discussion about it with the rest of his frat, but since you knew all of them, they were thankfully in favor of you staying for the rest of the year. Sure, his bed was still way too small for the two of you, but you both learned to make it work. Plus, Wonwoo was glad he could split rent with someone now.

Wonwoo was honestly anticipating you staying in his room for the rest of the school year. Finding a new place so late was unreasonable, so although he appreciated your efforts, he knew from the beginning that you two would just end up living together.

It was strange to be living with the girl he started dating recently, but he liked being able to wake up to you in the morning. Plus, it wasn’t like he saw you all the time. Whenever he was on campus, he would usually stick with Soonyoung or Mingyu.

“Wonwoo!” You hugged him from behind, nearly startling both him and Soonyoung in the middle of their daily study sessions at the library. “I got you a donut.”

Soonyoung frowned. “Where’s mine?”

“You didn’t ask for one,” you answered with a grin. “Just kidding, I got you one, but Chan ate it while we were walking over.”

“My bad,” Chan apologized with a half-eaten donut in one hand and powdered sugar on his lips.

Wonwoo wasn’t heavy on PDA but smiled when you kissed his cheek, gingerly taking the donut from you. “You can sit at our table, if you want,” he offered.

“That’s okay, I’m gonna be here until like, midnight,” you said with a frown. “Can you pick me up?”

“Yeah, of course.” He squeezed your hand and smiled as he watched you go.

“Dude,” Soonyoung cut in, snapping him out of his dreamy trance. His eyes were locked on the donut. “You’re so lucky.”

Wonwoo wasn’t sure if his best friend was talking about you or the donut, but he agreed wholeheartedly.

“Yeah,” he replied with a wistful sigh, “I really am.”

#svt scenarios #seventeen scenarios #wonwoo smut #seventeen smut #svt smut #seventeen #wonwoo x reader #jeon wonwoo #svt imagines #seventeen imagines #wonwoo imagines #wonwoo scenarios #svt hard hours #seventeen hard hours #seventeen x reader

8K notes · View notes

gasstationlady · 7 months

Text

GUTS | a lando norris social media au | pt. 2

pairing: lando norris x singer!reader, ex!drew starkey x reader

drew is still hung up on y/n, but the grid’s new it couple couldn’t care less.

notes: final part of guts!! thank you so much for all the love you guys showed the first part <3 and dw i have so many more smaus in the drafts! tried to write and add a bit more but i ran out of space :/ i hope the plot makes sense! i feel like bc i know how i wanted the story to go i can't rlly spot the plot holes as easily.

disclaimer: NOT PROOFREAD. let's pretend that jennifer lawrence "kym illman" picture is olivia lmfaooo. btw the events in “GUTS” sometimes does not line up with the schedule followed in real life. again, no hate to drew and, now also, to ppl on the today show aha. (CONGRATS LANDO FOR P2 AHHH)

masterlist ⋆ previously

yourusername

liked by landonorris, drewstarkey and 4,810,592 others

yourusername thanks for having me vmas!!!! <3

View all 22,504 comments

yourbestie STUNNING

user pls not drew liking her post when he doesn’t even follow her 😭😭😭

↳ user no he’s actually so painfully desperate lmaoo

↳ user i’m glad lando and y/n are just ignoring him

↳ user girl i’m not, i want the drama AHA

user love u more than anything

user lando liking and the two of them now following each other 🤔 yup him and y/n are forrr sure together

↳ user yea after the deuxmoi post and lando’s soft launch it’s basically confirmed at this point

↳ user i wonder if she’ll be attending the next gp bc i’d actually die and then come back to life if it happens

user you look BEYONDDDDD 😍😍

user are we fr just gonna ignore drew like..

thetodayshow

liked by landonorris and 67,298 others

thetodayshow It’s GUTS day! We loved having @/yourusername on the TODAY plaza. 🍒🎤🧡

We sat with Y/N to talk about her new album and recent scandals surrounding the topics of her work. “I just write songs; it’s not my job to interpret them for people.”

Tune in on our Youtube channel for extra clips of our interview with Y/N and her performances!

View all 342 comments

user SHE ATE THOSE PERFORMANCES. DEVOURED.

user some of those questions were a bit invasive

↳ user i was thinking the same thing, but y/n handled that rlly professionally

user omg how have her vocals gotten better 😭

user lmaoooooo i see you hiding in the likes lando

↳ user it’s so cute that he’s following her activities 🥹🥹

↳ user he’s probably here bc of what she said in the interview

↳ user wait i didn’t watch everything, what did she say??

↳ user so they asked how she felt about her exes being a popular topic on the internet, and so she said “I just write songs; it’s not my job to interpret them for people.” they also asked about drew and whether they’re going to get back together (which, may i add, felt a little rude to me) and y/n replied with “Those who I’m close with can reach me anytime. I tend to not focus on anyone else.”

↳ user thank you for summarizing!! doing god’s work fr 🫡

user y/n handled the situation perfectly

↳ user no bc the way she said not too much but enough to stand up for herself and her privacy

user AHAHAHAHA SHE RLLY SAID AINT NO WAY SHES GOING BACK TO DREW

ynupdates

41,086 likes

ynupdates Y/n seen arriving in Singapore!

View all 462 comments

user wait you’re lying??? actually? waaait 😭

user IS SHE GOING TO THE GP OMG PLS

user i mean i knew they were together but imagine a paddock appearance 😩😩 i don’t think we can handle it guys

user if she makes an appearance at the paddock with lando, i don’t understand why he didn’t just go as her date for the vmas too 😭😭

↳ user i doubt they wanted to hard launch at the vmas lol y/n was barely even in the audience, tbh i think she left early

↳ user y/n has said before that award shows make her rlly anxious, so yea she probably didn’t want too much attention on herself esp with all the drew drama

user did i miss something, i thought lando was still in ny? why didn’t they just travel together?

↳ user lando probs had to leave earlier bc practice started on friday, and y/n still had a few tv show performances which i’m assuming is why she arrived today instead

kymillman

51,159 likes

kymillman F1’S NEW FAVORITE COUPLE

The first driver to arrive this morning was Mclaren driver Lando Norris. For the first time he is joined with his new girlfriend, Y/N L/N, a famous Filipino-American pop singer.

For A3 prints, hand-signed & numbered by a range of drivers/team principals head to kymillman.com

View all 343 comments

user omg it’s happening it’s happening

user HEY SIRI PLAY THAT SHOULD BE ME BY JUSTIN BIEBER

user this pic should be put in the louvre that is how monumental it is

user THIS IS HOW I FIND OUT?? FROM KYM??😭😭

user first💔hard💔launch💔is💔a💔paddock💔appearance💔

user the hand holding 🥹🥹

user don’t know if i’m more jealous of lando or y/n

user damn god really out here choosing favorites

user they’re already becoming my comfort couple omg i can’t i love them so much

landonorris

liked by yourusername, carlossainz55 and 1,135,226 others

landonorris Singapore 🥈

View all 3,229 comments

user so proud of you lando!!

user AHHHH y/n cameo

user god idk if i'm ever going to get used to seeing y/n with lando

user SHE LOOKS SO GOOD

user yay carlando podium !!! 🥹

— — —

8 months later

landonorris

liked by yourusername, yourbestie and 4,475,987 others

landonorris Happy one year, love ❤️

View all 24,395 comments

yourusername there's nothing i love more than those chips

↳ landonorris 😐

user they're the reason i believe in love

user damn i think this is about to be lando's most liked post lmaoo

user the fact that he calls her love 😭😭

user luckiest man alive i stg

user how does she always look so good

yourusername

liked by landonorris, carlossainz55 and 6,788,335 others

yourusername cause i love to love, to love, to love you

View all 35,719 comments

landonorris that guy's pretty handsome

↳ yourusername very :)

yourbestie LOVE seeing you happy

user omggg i'm crying i can't believe its already been a year

user might sleep on the freeway today

user let the light in is such a cute song to dedicate to someone

user LOL not the third pic

user i love them so much 🥹

user if you ever break up, love isn't real

#f1 x reader #f1 instagram au #f1 imagine #f1 social media au #lando norris au #lando norris x reader #lando norris imagine #singer!reader #lando norris instagram au

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halcyone-of-the-sea · 6 months

Text

NOBODY'S SON, NOBODY'S DAUGHTER (VI)

NAVIGATION || RAVISHING ALLURE MASTERLIST || NEXT: CHAPTER VII

PAIRING: Nikto x F!Reader (Soulmate AU)

WORDCOUNT: 7.0k

WARNINGS: Angst, mentions of stalking & stalking behavior, creepy men, talks of death, weapons, toxic modeling standards, food issues, dead animals, talks about gore, symptoms & descriptions of dissociation, scars and mentions of intense medical procedures, etc. (Series 18+)

*I do not give others permission to translate and/or re-publish my works on this or any other platform*

Well, I guess brain damage will do that to you.

Nikto stands in the bathroom connected to the library—at the very end of that train car-like set-up of your loft rooms. His fingers move to the straps of his Kevlar, peeling them off as the loud tearing sounds echo in his ears.

He can hear you stumbling about in your room, too. Getting ready for bed. Blinking, Nikto grunts as he thinks over your comment from when you first showed him around. He hadn’t been able to get it out of his head since you’d said it.

Well, I guess brain damage will do that to you.

The man’s vest is taken off, hitting the floor in a heap. Next follows the clips of his thigh holster, and the belt buckle in the loops of his pants. Each joins the pile with a slap of material.

“Brain damage,” Nikto grunts.

It wasn’t something he should be worrying about—in fact, it was at the very bottom of the long list of things that even mattered. First was your safety, then the identity of this pathetic individual who was infatuated with you. But it stuck with him nonetheless.

He’d never had to look after someone with this affliction before. The stumbling; the shakiness. But he’d gone through worse. Yet, at the same time, it was far larger than just his assignment. In his own way, Nikto was…appreciative that you seemed to at least listen to him most of the time. And you were easy to talk to.

There was a sort of kinship there, as well. In broken things. Maybe that was why he felt himself growing to you.

Striped down to nothing but his mask, the Russian glimpses himself in the mirror and stills. He was always struck by it.

How something could be so brutally ugly.

Scars ran so tightly over his skin that it was indented like a fissure in the earth. Pieces boldly sliced away and chunks missing. The muscled bulge of his stomach was cut up—thighs with such horrors as cigarette burns and the remnants of tattoos that were carved away like hog’s flesh. That’s what he was, Nikto knew. A hog tied to the ceiling and ready to be butchered.

He looked at himself now like he was through the lens of a movie, like the ones he would watch as a child—it was far away from him, the edges blurred as his reflection shifted; another being entirely.

A hand comes up—his hand—and it presses into the material of his mask, large fingers shifting over black coloring as the pale blue of his eyes stares back. None of it felt real. Nikto’s head tilts, but he does not feel the bones in his neck move, only the acknowledgment that they had to have.

The dark ink of the tattoo over his back peaks itself into existence, the starting of obsidian over his shoulders. Nikto shifts his top half as if seeing it for the first time, unblinking eyes taking in the visage of a snarling bear locking gazes with him. At the side of his left shoulder, the sigil of his old unit burnt his skin.

“New,” he utters, voice tiny and hoarse. “Gotten after.”

He already knew that…why was he repeating it like he had forgotten sitting in that tattoo shop’s chair? Nikto’s eyes clenched shut, hand coming back up to his masked head and pressing over it.

He was not beautiful, and no one would ever call him such. He didn’t want them to because it would always be a lie.

With a low growl, his fingers grip his mask and rip it off of his head.

The thing slaps against the marble of the counter, hitting with a hard clack of the coated synthetic fiber, sliding over the top until it hits the toothbrush cup and causes it to fall on its side.

Nikto can only stare at the person in the reflection as the sounds swirl in his ears—a world away.

There’s so little of him left that he recognizes that it scares him.

Grinding his jaw, Nikto’s pale eyes slip down the length of the damage. His dark hair is cut close to his head, strong bones in his nose and brow above the deep sockets of his eyes—the glare of black and blue bags gives way to his lack of sleep. The wideness of his cheeks leads to a sharp chin; a square face overall.

But the marks.

The hyperpigmentation.

Half of a Glasgow Smile peels the flesh back like a tear in paper, and a line is sliced staring at his right ear and curving in a half-circle down to his jaw. Into his hairline, three ragged cuts that had been very badly cauterized to stop him from bleeding out, the hair never able to grow back properly. His neck is the same—a red scar the size of his forearm wrapping from behind and crossing it, little slivers breaking out like a tributary.

He still wasn’t sure how he survived that one, but then again he hadn’t in the long run.

Nikto’s heart had stopped after all.

There’s a knocking at the door, and the man flinches violently—head twitching to the side.

“Nikto?” Your voice is muffled by the wooden barrier, and the Russian’s breath is ragged before he blinks away the distance in his expression. “...Are you alright in there?”

He clears his throat, feet shifting over the plush purple rug you had on the floor as his fingers twitch with tight nerves. But your voice distracts him, fractured brain slowly coming back into focus.

“We are fine,” his voice is harder than he intends. More snappy.

Nikto’s eyes find your shadow under the bottom of the door, your feet moving and re-setting as they usually do. He sees you pause.

“Alright,” your voice calls. “If you need anything, just ask me.”

He watches you stand there for a few seconds longer before your shadow moves back and disappears. Torn ears twitch to your receding weight, eyes beady like a feral dog’s.

Nikto’s bare body is frozen until he finds himself moving to turn on the water to the hottest setting, stepping into the stream with a hiss and a snap of teeth at the burn. He only turns it hotter. Thinking. Wondering.

Brain damage.

—

“I can never see color,” you say into the air bluntly, watching the man tie his shoes. He freezes. “Just thought you should know.”

Your eyes see Nikto blink, a silent moment passing between you two before he looks up slowly, brows pulled in and lids crinkled.

“...Что?”

Something swirls in his vision, a deep intrigue and another that’s harder to name. Hidden. Kept under lock.

“I can never see color,” your voice reiterates, trying to put on a show that the only reason you were saying this was because you wanted to—a sign of trust.

In reality, it was a stepping point.

A small test even if you felt your face heating—growing hotter by the second. “Same accident that caused my brain damage.” You smile softly, motioning a hand to your head. “Even if I find my soulmate, I won’t be able to tell. Weird, huh?”

It was two hours after your phone call with Yaromir and Galina, and there wasn’t much to dwell on from the two. You’d talked about DNA, Sergi, and why no one was taking your claims seriously.

All they chose to tell you was that they needed more to build a case off of. Galina was still trying to get DNA samples, and without that or a large break that gave you any idea about who could do this, you were in the dark. All they had was a partial fingerprint on one of the plastic bags.

Excuses were all you got by the very frustrating end, and your hope had dwindled on every pause over the line, your phone on the coffee table and Nikto watching silently as he placed breakfast in front of you with a firm hand. He’d been quiet today, even more so than usual. You’d even given him more tea last night, though the cup was once more washed and set back by morning.

And he was stiff too. Tense.

Today, you made a firm decision to go back to AMA—not because of your shift. You had no intention of staying in that building even if you knew you should; this was a quick visit. You needed to discuss a large gap in your schedule with the CEO, one that had only shown up in the small hours of this morning.

You really hoped the explanation wasn’t because you were being fried.

Nikto is still, watching every beat of your pulse and how your fingers play with themselves in front of you. His chest is frozen, eyes unblinking as the paleness of them is similar to a knife’s edge. In your internal fight, you hadn't noticed how long he’d just been watching you…dead to the world of the living. His gaze was so intense once you did realize, that you cleared your throat softly as an awkward uncomfortableness built on your expression.

Perhaps today wasn't the best time to test your theory.

The man’s fingers twitch, he stands up to his full height, and then moves into the elevator without a single sound.

Your heart gets stuck in your throat, blinking as you make a confused noise.

“Nikto?” You turn after him. “Hey, what’s that supposed to mean?” Calling, your feet shift over the rug of your entrance, seeing the void of white as he stands with his hands behind his back and his covered face diligently forward. No words. “I thought we were past the whole lack of speaking thing?”

A chill moves up your spine slowly, and it’s enough to hide away the reason you’d mentioned your affliction in the first place. He was…so stiff again. Enough so that you partially wondered how this person could be the same that had cooked you dinner last night and barked his feral laugh into the chilled air.

What had changed in one night?

Nikto’s eyes were more of a void than the blackness of his Kevlar.

Apprehensiveness growing, you move and grasp at your jacket with a twist to your lips, slipping it on softly. No sentences being spoken, you shift into the elevator and stay to the far left of him, taking out your keys from your purse and slipping them into the metal.

With a jolt, the thing begins moving slowly.

“Y’know,” you awkwardly laugh. “It would be nice if you responded. I just told you something important to me. I mean,” your anxiety makes you backtrack with a very fake laugh, eyes glancing to the side. He hadn’t moved; was just staring at the space ahead of him. “It’s obviously none of your business,” you wave a small hand, being sly in your word choice. “But I want to be transparent with you about everything going on, especially with how I don’t know if you see color or not. It’s a disadvantage on my part and I—”

“I see color.” Is the monotone, dead response.

I know that.

“Oh. Good,” you try to smile shakily, hand jerking as it hangs at your side with a low simmer of a pounding pulse. A shimmer of excitement runs through your spine. “That’s good, Nikto, I’m glad that you do. So, if you don’t mind me asking, who’s your s—”

A low growl. “I do not want to.”

Tension overtakes the small area and your wide eyes stare unabashedly in shock. All eagerness utterly ceases to exist.

“Excuse me?” You push out your utter confusion, shoulders moving higher.

Surely he didn’t mean he doesn’t want the gift of seeing color.

No one would ever say something like that. Ever. Even those who’ve gone through Soulmate Psychosis have never stated they didn't want to see the shades and hues of the leaves—the sky or the earth. How the clouds looked when the sun was getting low. Purples and blues, colors you’d only ever be able to try and understand knowing that it would be impossible.

And what did this mean for you? You’d been banking off a confession, but this wasn’t the kind you’d expected.

“It is useless to me,” Nikto avoids your gaze. “Неуместный.”

“I have to disagree,” you stutter, slightly shifting your body to tilt his way. The crafted plan in your head is thrown to the wind. “Nikto, we’re talking about color here. Soulmates. The…the person you’re supposed to be destined to be with—how can you say that? Don’t you remember how the world looked when it was all black and white?”

A low snarl echoes, pale eyes jerking your way as a head snaps.

“Достаточно!” You suck in a fast breath as the elevator dings, both of you arriving at the ground floor, doors rolling back to the open lobby. “We do not need you speaking to us on such things.” Nikto moves forward, your nose almost bumping into his chestpiece as the scent of rotten wood infects you. Your body takes down a swift breath, head snapping up to watch. “You know nothing!” His face is right above yours, looming, nearly bending your spine over. “Spoiled girl with pretty face—thinks she knows what she wants, yes?” The Russian scoffs, speaking low as your hands clench at the assumption. “Keep this to yourself.”

He turns and stalks away with a hostile grunt, leaving you blankly staring at where his face used to be, the image of his Kevlar mask burning in the back of your mind. A knife of hurt gradually takes place between your ribs, breeding until your lungs are ruthless in its clutch.

This wasn’t what you had expected.

Nikto glares at Isaak, who had watched with wide eyes and a loose jaw, and not moments later, the doorman quickly averts his gaze to stare at nothing on his desk. The Russian’s pulse is roaring inside of his breast, mind troubled.

Brain damage. Can’t see color.

Halfway to the parked car, Nikto’s mind returns to him and he slams his fast feet to a stop. Blinking, as if something in him had changed at that moment, a second of confusion leaked into his hidden expression as he said nothing. Waiting.

At the small, hesitant movement of shaky feet coming closer, his shoulders slowly tense.

You come up behind Nikto and shift past, taking the car door in your hand and opening it. Moving inside, you close the barrier to the chilled outside morning with a definitive slam. Darkness, for a moment, enshrouds you.

Face unyielding and pulled with guilt, you get a small queasiness in your stomach as the seconds pass in the vehicle.

Maybe you’d been too forward, but Nikto’s response had been…well, explosive. And his comments about color? Who in their right mind would say that?

“That makes no sense,” you whisper, hand coming up and rubbing at the scar on the back of your head. The one you dreamed would disappear in the small hours of the night as a teenager, remembering the beep of hospital machines and the plastic taste of the tube shoved down your throat.

Doesn’t want to see color? Your mouth sucks down a shaky breath. I’d trade anything for only three seconds.

The world outside of the windows is gray as Nikto pops the driver's side door open, bending low with a grunt before sitting into the seat. He doesn’t apologize as he shoves the keys into the ignition—starting the engine. The car rumbles to life.

Maybe you’d been too forward.

“You think?” You whisper to yourself under your breath, tearing your eyes away from the Russian man, grabbing and clicking in your seatbelt.

Socially, you had grace—were used to carrying it to those horrible parties and events. But talking about more personal matters was another thing entirely from work-life. From designer clothes and when they came out, shoes, and makeup. Sex and alcohol. Everyone at AMA speaks with vanity, and you were included. You knew you were beautiful, you’d been told and retold with every pluck from your eyebrows and spread of lipstick over your mouth; ruthless petting like a cat or a doll—there was never any doubt about that.

You could speak beauty, but you can’t speak about real love. Call you hopeless, but that was really all you ever wanted.

Love. Romance. Care and concern. It was addictive to you in every sense—and you just kept coming back for a hit of what you couldn’t have. You’d warned yourself after Yefim, but it hadn’t even taken a month before you had found another man to fixate on; the body of the previous stuck still in your nightmares.

But there was that sliver of something in your gut every time you stared at Nikto; something that didn’t add up. You weren’t deterred—weren’t put off. There was something deeper there that you just had to get to the bottom of first.

There had to be something he wasn’t telling you about why he can see color.

“If I upset you,” you ease out, tongue like lead and your eyes stuck outside the moving vehicle. Your hands tighten over your seatbelt in small intervals, for a moment mute of what to say. “I’m sorry, Nikto. I was just curious, I won’t pry into your personal matters again; you have my word. Just like talking about your mask.”

“Good,” Nikto’s hands flex over the wheel. It’s all he says, and even then it’s curt.

Small-like, you mutter, “Also…thanks for breakfast.”

It had been a small and incredibly healthy—buckwheat porridge. You’d eaten the entire thing with fruit on top and never even glanced at the yogurt in your fridge. The man’s eyes had been sneaking glances the entire time you had brought the spoon back to your mouth, but you weren’t sure if it was to make sure you were liking it, or if you were eating in general.

It was his job to hover, though.

Nikto doesn’t respond to your thanks, but his shoulders slightly loosen a bit, eyes blinking from the view of the mirror.

With a sigh, you keep your mouth shut and sit in silence for the rest of the ride, pulling at loose threads from your jacket pocket. Your fingers tap something firm from the inside, and you pause, blinking down at the dark fabric.

Your brows furrow, but whatever’s inside will have to wait, because Nikto pulls up to the sidewalk and parks the car with a huff. Like before, he opens your door when he’s outside.

“Your investigators will come for any package,” he explains as you shuffle and stand, fixing the collar of your coat and glancing his way. It’s like he hadn’t just snapped at you minutes ago—that numb sheet was over his head once more. “You will not take them.”

There seems to be a moment where he waits for confirmation, raising a brow into the cold air that you can only partially see.

You clear your throat and look away down the street.

“Sure,” you say.

…Had he really called me spoiled?

Nikto glares at you, jaw clenching under his mask. He looks you up and down quickly without moving his head, skin tight and scars pulling. Your words in the elevator had… aggravated him, even if he can’t pinpoint why.

You were messing with his head—and that is an already very broken thing. Yet…your questions weren’t pointless. He knew you’d ask them sooner or later, like a fox to a trap, it was only a matter of time.

He should have expected this, and while cruelty is his nature, he can’t be that to you. The Russian had snapped too violently in the lobby, and it wasn’t your fault. Even with moments of relative calm, he knew that to be fact. But Nikto was a brooding creature—he picked only between missions and guns to be his avatars. Emotions were a loser’s game, and he would not lose at anything so long as he was living. Nikto was a bloody victor holding the remnants of a fresh kill. Nikto was as much a bear as the one printed on his back.

Pale eyes close, a low snarl stuck in the back of his throat.

You blink at the arm that gets held out to you.

“Grab it,” the man doesn’t give away anything; his eyes are ahead and his voice is low like your ability to understand his sudden change.

Every five minutes this Russian was switching between anger and relative tolerance of you. Your brows lightly rise on your forehead, wrinkles forming on your flesh.

Your quivering hand raises and slots itself through his left arm softly, head tilting.

“As much as I appreciate it,” you speak as he helps you up the curb with a firm pull, side-eyeing you. “I can manage. I’ll ask if I can’t.” A tentative smile. “Last-minute mascara is most of what I trust you with besides the food.”

“There will be less of the former in our future.” He grunts as you shut the door behind you. “We have no plans to do such things.”

“You said that about cooking,” you tease, falling back into seamless flirting, trying to get the man who had cooked you supper back into his skin. “I didn’t know you’d be such an attentive roommate.”

Those light orbs stay pinned to you for a long moment, twisting in like a knife with only a glint in the circles of his blackened pupils.

There’s a click of the car locking, and the Russian is all but dragging you forward. Chuckling under your breath, you follow as well as you’re able through the front, feet only stumbling for a moment before you can lean your weight to the side and rely on Nikto to keep you straight. It helps, you admit, though he’s a bit more stiff than Aly.

Your hand rests on his bicep, fingers moving to spread over the hard material and sensing the sinews of his flesh writhe at the action. Nikto huffs under his breath, rolling his shoulders to dispel tension.

Your scent is wafting into his nose like he’d put his head into a tank of ambrosia—your perfume addling his senses, shaming him like a venomous snake being held by a dove.

By an angel.

“Останови это.”

You blink and turn to him, humming. “What was that, Nikto?”

The man is tense again, eyes snapping about as he pushes at the front door to AMA, your own nerves becoming apparent, yet, having your distraction here to pull you away from that.

“Nothing,” he monotones. “Where are we going.”

“Upstairs,” you sigh, walking past the front desk as the women look on in confusion when you don’t stop by. They hadn’t expected you to come in, apparently. It was your job. As you pass pictures and paintings in the hallways, you slowly begin to speak.

“What color is that one,” your finger points to the frame on the far left. It was a dark shade that moved into a lighter one—Ombré.

Nikto’s feet slow, his attention moving from ahead of you to the side for a fast flash. Gruffly, and feeling his chest tighten at the sensation of you freely touching him above the corrupted flesh, he responds in a clipped fashion. “Blue and Green.”

You hum lowly. “Light blue?”

“Нет. Light green to dark blue.”

“Oh.” You tilt your head at it as you pass, peeking over your shoulder. It wasn’t like you could really understand that, but…a small smile pulled at your lips as you turned back forward.

Nikto blinks at it from the corner of his vision, narrowing his eyelids momentarily like a wolf.

“... We do not understand the fascination with it,” he grumbles. “Color.”

“I don’t want to upset you,” your head shakes. “We don’t have to talk about it—”

“I do not like losing my temper at pointless discussion.” You’re interrupted, and you feel your lips part not at the behavior, but the tone at which he takes. A strange firmness that bleeds into conviction. “It was an…error in my judgments.”

It’s only when you steer him lightly to the right hallway to the elevator that your lips move into a smirk, leaning into him even more. Nikto’s eyes flash with surprise, darting down.

“Was that an apology, Big Guy?”

“No,” he scowls under his mask, but his body is gaining heat to it. “An observation of character.”

“I think you just apologized to me and don’t know how to admit it,” you move your face close to his just as he had to you in the penthouse, nose brushing the canvas of the lower half of his face covering. You hear his breath hitch, his large frame going still and yet not pulling away. Your matching feet continue to move.

He seems to lean closer, even, or was that just a trick of the light?

Your lips release a chuckle, your face begins to burn and your veins pump oxytocin that Aly would be intrigued to learn about.

You pull back after a bit too much staring into his eyes, saying breathlessly, “I’m more flattered that you think I’m pretty, Nikto.”

His large sigh is all you hear, hand releasing his arm for a moment to push the elevator’s button to the top floor of the building, chuckling under your breath.

Nikto grumbles but responds with nothing more than a twitch of his fingers when your heat leaves him, motioning his arm again when you come back over. The sudden lapse in your pressured fingers made his spine straighten.

Kliment Fedorov’s office floor is large—very large. It takes up the entire top of the building and his influence seeps down to the very bottom like blackened oil. You’d been here before, as well as seen it from video calls, and while you could have talked to your manager about the gap in your schedule, the fact was that the man was quitting on you.

Dead birds in plastic bags were a bit too much.

It left you only able to go to the top for any clarification until a new manager could be hired.

“When we’re in there,” you comment to Nikto, hand going back to touch him. The Russian blinks slowly, fighting how his body wants to sag. “It’s probably best if you don’t speak, okay?”

Pale eyes narrow, head tilting to the side.

You sigh at the movement, placating him with an explanation. “It’s not that I don’t trust your judgment, but Mr. Fedorov is,” your voice trails off. “He’s very lofty if you get what I mean.”

“Lofty?” Nikto prompts as the elevator continues to move upwards. He seems confused by the word in English.

Your free hand raises and gestures vaguely before you twist your lips and end on a simple, “Arrogant.”

“Ah, да,” the large man utters. “I am not a stranger to such, yes?”

It’s strange how the two of you can just slip past the small arguments that pop up—or, more of the one-sided breaking points and the prodding comments. His words didn’t bother you, and that was different; if your mother had snapped like that, it would be a different story entirely even if you, ultimately, would have let it pass like the rest.

“Do you really think I’m spoiled?”

But you did tend to linger on things.

Before there’s an answer from Nikto, who grunts under his breath, the main door opens with a small ding. Sharing a glance, you shake your head with a quirk of your lips and walk out with a tiny pull at his arm.

You lean and whisper, “It’s okay, I forgive you.”

Nikto doesn’t like how his heart constricts like there’s a vice around it—eyes snapping back. He holds back a flinch.

From there it’s checking in with the secretary and being waved in by her hand, already talking to someone else on the phone and typing away on her computer. You hum under your breath, and Nikto feels your hand jerk. He glances over as the doors get closer, calmed down at least for now.

“You are worried.”

“Only a little,” you mutter, brushing down your jacket, feeling that bulge of something in the pocket.

“Do not be.” The masked man looks forward after studying the layout of the floor—where the emergency exit was and the most efficient places to take cover.

Easy for you to say, you huff. Nikto had a very stiff way of comforting people.

And then you’re knocking on the door, and a voice is telling you both to enter.

—

“Lovely Seraph!” The CEO’s bald head is as shiny as you remember it, and those fly-like eyes are beady enough to make it seem like they move through you instead of at you. “Welcome, come, sit!”

A hand is waved from behind a large mahogany desk, a round face nodding quickly as you smile although it’s not entirely real.

“Mr. Fedorov,” your voice is light and airy—a fake tone of elegance. It comes easily. “It’s so good to see you again. I hope everything is well?”

“Ah,” he laughs, Nikto helping to guide you along even if the room is sparsely decorated beyond potted plants and a large rug. “It is going well, my dear. Very well.”

Eyes slip down your body, past your modest clothes. Something moves behind Fedorov’s expression, shifting. Nikto is a firm brick beside you, only letting you leave when the chair is in front of you. You slide him a thankful glance and slip away, grasping the side of the seat and moving into it with little trouble.

“My dear, I hadn’t expected to see you in last year’s collection.” You blink, eyes darting down to stare at the shirt you wear—it isn’t anything fancy or eye-catching. But it was expensive.

“Oh,” stuttering a moment, you try to play off a suddenly tight laugh. “M-my apologies, Sir. It must have slipped my mind this morning—”

“I will send the newest to you, don’t fret,” Fedorov smirks. “We can’t have one of our best ladies wearing rags.”

A spike of anger levels itself at your throat like a knife, and Nikto, who had moved like a shadow to stand at the far wall with his hands behind his back, feels his pupils constrict.

“You don’t have to do that,” you clear your throat lightly, looking to your guard quickly. “I don’t need any more presents, Sir, I promise.”

“Nonsense.” Kliment dismisses you, splaying his hands from where they rest on the desk. “You’ll enjoy them. Very nice collection this year. My gift to you for your success here.” You shrivel in at his next comment. “Your last photoshoot was…just exquisite, my Dear. Those white tones look heavenly on you.”

Swallowing down saliva slowly, you shift your thighs and let your arms circle your waist, feeling naked as gray eyes move your frame.

But you can’t say anything.

“Thank you, Sir,” you push out tinily. Nikto’s temper flares from across the room, eyes sparking up in a deep display of rage. He goes to take a step forward, not even knowing what he’s going to do, but, as if sensing this, your eyes snap over and you level him with a mute command.

Nikto’s boots still, the heel only half raised.

You twitch your head in a fraction of a shake, and he’s settling back to the wall with a glare and a hard clench to his hands. A growl is trapped in his esophagus, and you’re surprised that Kliment hasn’t gone up in flames because of it.

“Of course!” Fedorov laughs. “I personally arranged your schedule. I know what’s best, hm?”

“I was here to ask about that, actually,” you try to move the subject on, feeling dirty as Nikto silently fumes. “The gap starting in two days? I’m sorry, but I wasn’t sure what that meant and I wanted to come in personally and ask.”

Fedorov’s expression sours, scowling. “Those investigators. Messing with my work—won’t let you come in, Seraph, see. Horrible people think we can’t put up with silly little boxes and mail.”

You shakily take an inhalation and chuckle, lips twisting down and eyes dead still.

Silly little boxes. What would he do if he got a box full of dead birds or a bomb? Then again, he never would—he’d have someone else open it for him.

The CEO continues with his hand moving to grab papers from his side, sliding them to you slowly as you look down at the material with curious eyes, seeing shiny gray signatures and large looping words. The realization is as rapid as a knife to the neck.

Party invitations.

Your heart drops, bones like steel inside of your flesh. The room is suddenly far too small.

Not this again. Fuck no, not this.

“I took the liberty of confirming your attendance since you can no longer be here all the time—you’ll be doing,” fly-eyes glint. “... crowdfunding, if you will. You remember what to do. You used to be our best seller for investments.”

“Sir…I,” you fight the bile in your throat, the world swirling. Not again. I tried so hard to get out of it. Fedorov doesn’t care.

“It will also get you out of the main city spotlight!” He smiles. “I’ve emailed you the bookings and hotels—clothes to be sent.” Arrogant lines on his face. “The dresses.”

Fedorov smiles as you stare blankly, lips slightly parted; your fingers curl in to try and stop the shaking.

“But!” You flinch at the loud exclamation, and this time, Nikto does take a step forward, hand brushing his Beretta without your knowledge. “That’s all I have for you today. The two days you have to yourself to pack and get ready, yes?”

What could you say to this?

You can’t say you won’t do it—you’d be out of a job and out of a stable income. Your mother would only say it was your fault, and that would be the extent of her help; with the stalker…you had to admit being away was the best, but doing parties again…

It made you want to shrivel up and die.

“If that’s what you think is best, Sir.” Fedorov shakes his head, chuckling and sending a layered smile that peels his skin.

“I do. I know what the company needs—and what it needs is you, my lovely Seraph. Our angel from the heavens,” he smirks vilely. “Sending us down precious money instead of bread. You’ll do well away from the building for a while. Let things cool down, you see.”

And thus it’s settled with a meaningful look and a passage of papers, your quivering hands taking them up, not missing this time, and trying not to strangle them in your palm.

“Thank you, Sir,” you whisper, not at all thankful. Your mind already runs to times and dates—small talk and comments about your ailments. The explosion and the stalker are going to be hot topics. You would be mobbed.

But that was exactly what the man wanted.

“Quickly now, go home,” Fedorov motions. “Be safe—remember to limit your food, Seraph.” A glance is sent to your stomach. “Have you been following your diet?”

“We need to leave,” Nikto speaks up in a sharp bark. “Сейчас.”

You see the CEO look over quickly as if forgetting someone else was here when looking at you. His face moves into a hard sneer at the sight of the large man.

“And who is this?”

“Nikto,” you explain quickly. “He’s my—”

“Yes, Girl, I know who he is.” Kliment’s voice is low. “Keep him on a tighter leash. Dismissed.”

You nearly stumble when getting out of the chair.

A hand grabs at the small of your back, pushing you forward quickly, though not unkindly. Nikto’s face is rigid under his mask, lines hard and eyes narrowed. Over his shoulder, he throws a heated glance at the man at the desk, but all he does is smirk like a crocodile. If he were any lesser, he’d have no problem getting into Kliment’s face—Nikto knew the man would pose no challenge to him, he couldn’t even shine a light.

“Nikto,” you utter, putting a hand to his side.

The Russian re-focuses, attention returning.

Your feet skid, shoes slipping at the force he guides you along until you’re back out the door and walking back to the secretary. “Slow down.”

Immediately, Nikto’s hands leave you, and you come to a swift stop with a deep breath in your mouth. Hands out, you shake them for a moment and try to calm your heart.

“Thank you,” you say under your breath, hand moving to rub the back of your skull. “You, uh,” trying to lighten the suffocating air, you blink at his chest. “But I told you not to speak.”

“What was that?” He growls. “You let people speak like that to you?”

“It’s not that serious.” It wasn’t anything he could change. “He’s arrogant, I told you.”

“He’s—”

“Why do you care,” you stare at him, suddenly defensive. “It’s my job—just like yours, I can’t lose it.”

Pale eyes sizzle. “That is different.”

You laugh despite yourself. “It’s really not.” Shaking your head, you brush past him slowly, gaining back your senses. “Even if I want it to be, this is all I’ve got going for me.”

Shadows walk beside you, keeping a close eye as the secretary doesn’t look up from her work as you both pass. “It is causing you to be stalked, Whelp. It is not sane to stay.”

You’re silent at that, taking Nikto’s tactic of steel lips and a dead stare ahead.

Beauty was all you had. He could never understand that.

“We have two days.” Uttering in the elevator, you sigh. “Even if I don’t like it—it’ll get us away from AMA. That’s the most important part, and one that even I can’t argue with.”

You don’t want to go to the parties. Not even an ounce of you was eager for it. For what was expected.

Nikto’s hands go to grasp the top of his vest’s collar, hanging as he thinks. The Russian can’t snap at you for that, it was true. Getting away was good, but it meant he had to memorize more floor plans and re-learn routines. No matter, he could adapt if it came to that.

He hums to himself, blinking.

“Very well. That I agree with.” Nikto pauses. “But I do not like that man. Like…” he snarls, “bald snake.”

A shocked snort exits you, your hand coming up to cover your mouth. Silence settles for a bit between you two as you process everything. Your teeth bite at your lip, leaning toward him delicately.

“...I was thinking frog.”

Nikto’s eyes spark, looking down at you from behind the black smudge of his sockets.

“That is better.” He comments. “Да. Frog.” You both lock eyes and you feel your lips pull in a small smile, your face losing a sliver of that fear that moves in your DNA as of late. The truth comes out as vulnerability.

“...Do you think it’ll work?” Your question makes him stare, head tilting.

“What?”

“Leaving.” The elevator nears the ground floor. “Do you think it’ll stop him?”

Nikto had said he would never lie to you.

“I do not know,” he speaks slowly, feet shuffling as his shoulders roll. “Do you?”

“I don’t know if I need to worry about the stalker more,” you chuff without any amusement, “or the parties I have to go to.”

Curiosity moves in his pale orbs, swirling at your confession to him. Nikto stores it for later, humming as the door opens and he moves—sticking out an arm that you easily loop with your own.

He walks slower, now, lips open as he hesitates for a moment. As your face is far away, expression open to the world, the Russian eases out, “I do not think you are spoiled, yes? I should not have said such things about your character. Do not apologize to me for it.”

“Everyone loves apologies, Nikto,” you joke even as your heart swells—heat coming up your neck. “It’s human nature to believe you’re not in the wrong. There’s no need to—”

“I do not like when you apologize. So do not.” He walks you forward. “Stand your ground. Speak freely.”

“That usually hurts people’s feelings,” you state in an utterance.

It’s a good while before Nikto answers you, and when he does you glance over to find his eyes already looking at you—but the makeup is wrong, it isn’t as dead as they always seem to be.

They were nearly soft if that was even possible. Hidden behind a half-lidded layer of darkness. You blink, feet almost stumbling as you lean into his arm.

Tell me, your mind begs this beast. This monster who never shows a sliver of his face—who holds scars more numerous than you can even imagine. You don’t even know why you want him, and that scares you. Tell me I’m yours.

“Then those people are not worthy if they can not handle the truth,” Nikto grumbles, shifting his head away.

The connection is broken.

You focus on the way you hold his arm as you both walk past the front desk, taking the weight and heat of it in little by little until you have to hold back a shiver. Even stretching your fingers, you couldn’t grab around the entire thing—much like it would be fruitless to try with his thighs. Even his waist would be difficult.

So consumed in the thoughts of Nikto, slowly taking you over, you both walk past the front desk swiftly.

Only when you see the flash of a square object do you begin to slow—Nikto was having none of it.

“Do not.” His arm shifts out of yours, and you startle before his limb loops your waist, nearly stapling you to his side.

“I didn’t even move to it,” you huff, looking up at him, frown over your lips.

“You were thinking it,” he grumbles, pale eyes sliding like water over your face. “Stay.”

“Woof, woof,” you sarcastically utter.

You can feel the tension in him—in you.

And then you push open the front door, and the box is left on the counter without another glance.

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