#hopefully a break will be good for me and I'll be able to like...

[guinevereslancelot]

i'm so bummed i accidentally turned town a job interview for a job where I could have worked with a good friend and mentor 😔

[nicksolemnlyswears]

THE BEAR AND THE BEE HIVE

summary: in which carmy falls for the sweet café owner that supplies him with endless americanos

pairing: carmen berzatto x fem!reader

word count: 14.4k

warning: it's a little bit of a slow burn. sorry. i'm a sucker for it and i feel like carmy is a slow burn kinda guy. 18 +, cursing, smut, p in v, oral (m. receiving), fingering, they use protection guys! i deserve a pat in the back. nothing too wild. oh, and very brief mention of suicide.

a/n: i started writing this way back in october and then it was nearly done and i abandoned it. well i finally got around to completing it tonight!

this is my first time ever writing for carmy and i tried my best writing this. i love carmy and the show but i didn’t expect it to be hard to write him as a character. i wanted to get him right so i took my time with it and didn’t rush it. hopefully you guys like my carmy. enjoy!

i think i've had this stored in my drafts for like 4 months and it's time for me to set it free.

The cigarettes were not enough anymore. No matter how many smoke breaks Carmy took, he still felt the edge on his shoulders. A fear laced with anxiety that overtook him.

After deciding that blowing through yet another wall in his restaurant was the way to go, Carmy took a break. He needed it before he used the sledgehammer to destroy the restaurant in its entirety, along with his dream.

He remembers a coffee shop only a block away from The Bear and thinks he could use a coffee right about now. Maybe the mixture of caffeine and nicotine will be able to relax his shoulders, if only for an hour.

As soon as he opens the door, the smell of ground coffee beans greets him. He looks around, taking in the cozy ambiance the decorative wood brings to the place and the splashes of warm yellow that lighten it up.

Then he sees you, and his focus shifts entirely. His eyes only see you.

"Hi, welcome to Bee Hive!" You chirp with a small smile.

Carmy freezes, forgetting why he's there in the first place. He slowly steps up to the register, where you patiently wait for him. It's just after the lunch rush, so you're in no hurry.

He finds he's acting like a teenager who has just seen a pretty girl. Only he's not a teenager, and you're more than a pretty girl.

"What can I get for you today?" You ask, not noticing the effect you've had on him. You take a sharpie out of your yellow apron, preparing to scribble down his order in a cup.

Carmy has perfected the empty on the outside but screaming on the inside face. Strangers don't tend to know he's almost always losing his shit.

"I-I don't…sorry," Carmy looks at you briefly before diverting his eyes. He apologizes in a flurry, looking for an excuse for his weird behavior, "Uh, it's my first time here. What do you recommend?"

"It's not a problem," you say softly as if to calm him, "I'm a simple girl. I love the latte, but if you're looking for something stronger, the americano is one of the favorites."

Carmy nods as you ramble about the drinks, where the coffee beans come from, and the different notes of each blend. He hangs onto every word that slips from your lips. The static in his brain clearing up for the first time in hours.

It ends too soon as you realize you're talking too much and probably overwhelmed him. You sheepishly smile at him and trail off, but he continues to stare, waiting for you to continue.

"I'll take the Americano," Carmy nods, giving you a tight-lipped smile. Although he had been hanging to every one of your words, he was too focused on the shape of your lips and the sweet tone of your voice.

"Good choice," you nod, grabbing a cup from the tray beside you, "What's your name?"

Carmy looks up, slightly alarmed, as if you've asked for his social security number. "What?" He thinks you'll be forward and ask for his number next, seemingly forgetting how coffee orders work.

"Your name? For the order?" You explain, trying to ease his worries. He's odd, but in an endearing way. You believe this is his first time here because you're confident you would've remembered him.

"Fuck, right, yeah," he nervously says, pinching the bridge of his nose, "My name's Carmen."

"Your Americano will be right out, Carmen," you tell him, capping your sharpie back up.

Carmy quickly pays and stands to the side to wait for his order. He forces himself to not look at you or in your direction as you take other customers' orders. He just knows he's made a fool of himself already. Not that it matters. Why would it matter? He's there for the coffee. Nothing else, no one else.

As he walks out of Bee Hive, he sips his coffee. His shoulders instantly drop, and his fear-induced anxiety starts to dissipate for the moment. He's unsure if the effect is because of the caffeine or the thoughts of your pretty smile.

Visiting your coffee shop becomes routine for Carmy. Whenever things at The Bear become crazy -or he starts to lose his fuckin' mind- he makes his way to Bee Hive with a cigarette hanging from his lips.

For twenty minutes, he's free of Richie's constant hounding, Sugar's struggles with the permits and scheduling, and Sydney's disappointment because the menu is still extremely underway.

Each time he's stopped by, you've been there to greet him, and each time, you've left a little heart by Carmen's name, which makes his heart race in a peculiar way. His hands would touch his chest to check if it was heartburn, but it didn't feel like that. It's not anxiety either cause he knows pretty well how that feels.

All he knows is he hasn't done anything to deserve such a gesture. He's convinced himself you draw little hearts for everyone because he's not special.

One Thursday afternoon, Carmy realizes he doesn't know your name. He looks for a name tag, but you're not wearing one on your yellow apron. He should know your name if you insist on making small talk despite his short answers.

He can't help it. He gets too in his head to answer like a normal person, so his answers come out choppy and dry.

"Alright, Carmen, your order will be right out," you say, handing his cup to one of the baristas. You always hold out and ask him what he wants to order. He has the right to change his mind anytime, but for now, he's stuck with the americano, which he drowns in sugar.

As curiosity eats at him, he gathers the courage to ask. "Thanks. Hey, uh, I've-I’ve never gotten your name…” Carmy says, cursing at himself for not formulating the question correctly. His hand comes up to grip his hair instinctually.

Your smile widens when he asks your name. The silly crush you've developed for your customer fluttering to life. It's just a crush over a stranger, nothing to write home about.

You tell him your name but follow it with "-call me Honey. Everyone knows me by that name. I'm sure if you ask my friends about me with my real name, you'll throw them for a loop."

You're rambling, hoping he doesn't think calling you by your nickname is weird. Then again, how can he judge when he has a sister people call 'Sugar' and he and his siblings also don the nickname 'Bear.'

"Honey." Carmy repeats your nickname, smiling as he finds it fitting. "In that case, call me Carmy."

"Nice to properly meet you, Carmy," you say, grinning.

Like all the days before, Carmy steps aside and waits for his coffee. He doesn't let himself continue the conversation or ask more about you even if it’s everything he wants to do.

It's rare for Carmy to be in a good mood, and whenever it happens, it doesn't tend to last. His goal of opening a restaurant in 12 weeks makes it impossible for him to relax and enjoy the ride. To prolong this unusual feeling, Carmy stops by Bee Hive on his way to The Bear.

"Have you made your boss angry, Honey?" He asks as he pulls out his wallet to pay. He ordered the americano as he always does.

"No…why do you ask?" You ask, tilting your head in confusion.

"Uh, 'cause you-you're always here. Do you not take days off? Not that I'm complaining. I-I like seeing you here." Carmy's words get quieter as he speaks, red creeping up his neck. So much for trying to make a joke.

You look around the room and tell him, "Imma let you in on a little secret."

Carmy follows your hand, waving him to get closer. The smell of cigarettes invades your senses as you get close to him. You'd never admit that the mix of his cigarettes and your coffee is addicting. As both lean over the counter, you whisper, "I'm the boss. I can't run away even if I wanted to."

"You own the coffee shop," Carmy pans in shock.

Carmy is more than surprised at your words. Especially now that he knows how expensive it is to open a business. You can't be a day over 25 and own a successful coffee place. There is hope, after all.

"I do," you nod, standing straight once more.

A couple of years ago, you had inherited a hefty amount of money from an estranged aunt. Fresh out of college and with no real plan, you thought it would be a good moment to follow your dream and open the cozy café.

"How do you do it?" Carmy asks, amazed at the girl smiling at him. "I don't know if you know, but, um, I-I'm opening the restaurant around the block. Used to be The Beef?" He finishes grimly as he points to his side of the block.

"Oh, yeah. The guys who worked there helped me move some equipment when I first opened two years ago," you reveal, "Tell you what, whenever you have a break, come around. I'll give you a free americano and tell you all about it. Neighbor to neighbor."

Stuffing his hands in his pockets, Carmy agrees. "I'll take you up on that."

Weeks go by, and Carmy seemingly forgets about Bee Hive and your pending conversation. You try not to overthink about his absence or how you might've scared him away. He's probably just busy remodeling his restaurant. You know better than anyone how much time that takes.

Still, his presence has become part of your routine, and you can't help but look at the door each time the bell rings. You expect to see him walking up to the counter, the remnants of cigarette smoke coming out his nose as he breathes.

You're pretty close to your assumption because Carmy has been dealing with the fire suppression test. They didn't fail the test once but twice, and if they didn't pass it on the third try, their plan to open the restaurant in 12 weeks goes out the window. Fak has tried everything, and nothing works.

He'd sent Richie once on a coffee run, but the fuckin' idiot went to the nearest Starbucks. Carmy had been looking forward to tasting your coffee and seeing his name in the cup with the little heart because he's 100% sure he's the only Carmen you know. It's not a common name in these parts of town.

One very early morning, he's walking to work, and as he passes Bee Hive, he sees you inside, wiping tables down before you open at 6:30.

Impulsively, he knocks on the glass, not giving himself the time to overthink things. You turn to look at the window and see him standing outside, his hands stuffed in the pockets of his familiar plaid jacket to protect himself from the chilly March air.

"Hey stranger," you greet him, opening the door and inviting him in.

"Hi," he breathes out, staring at you, "you're here early," he tries to casually mention.

You roll your eyes dramatically and say, "It's a downside of the job. Did you know people want coffee at the crack of dawn?"

You try acting as nonchalant as possible. It's not like you missed seeing one of your favorite customers, his beautiful blue eyes, or the way he rocks a simple white t-shirt.

"I had no idea," Carmy smiles, bringing his tattooed hand up to his lips, "I, uh, usually drink mine at night." That much is true. On those sleepless nights when insomnia takes over him, the best remedy is coffee.

"Would you make an exception and join me for a morning coffee at the crack ass of dawn?" Anxiously, you play with the rings on your fingers. It feels like you're asking the guy on a date when it's just a friendly coffee.

"As long as you have some business advice to spare?" Carmy responds shakily. He briefly looks down the street to glimpse at his restaurant. It's too early for anyone to be there yet.

"Deal."

Throwing the towel over your shoulder, you make your way behind the counter. Carmy attempts to make small talk with you as you prepare both drinks.

This is the first time he's watching you in action since you tend to stick to the cash register when he's around. It's not a coincidence. After the first time he came to Bee Hive, you wanted to see more of him, so you stationed yourself at the register where you'd be sure to see him, and he'd see you.

"Here you go." You place his coffee mug on the table along with yours before disappearing momentarily and returning with an orange soufflé coffee cake. You're pulling all the stops for Carmy to leave a good impression.

Carmy thanks you and sips his coffee, "Wow, this is fire!" He expected to taste an americano, but what you prepared was entirely different. He can make out hints of hazelnut and caramel in the coffee.

"Thanks. I took the liberty of changing your order. You can always come back to the americano, though…" you shrug shyly, looking at him over the rim of your mug.

"I-I appreciate it. Thanks." Carmy throws you a nervous grin. He gestures with his tattooed hand to dig into the cake you brought out. He shouldn't be the only one eating.

You and Carmy share the cake as you talk about yourselves and the crazy businesses you own. Somehow, talking to you comes easy to him. He's still nervous and scared to fuck things up, but the warm coffee and your even warmer smile ease him into it.

"How do you do it? This place is always packed, and you seem like you run a tight ship," Carmy wonders, playing with the fork. The cake is long gone, although the notes of orange remain on his tongue. Would you taste the same?

"It wasn't without mistakes. I had to learn a lot from my fuck ups and listen to my team because although I'm the owner, they are the ones doing most of the work. Whenever there's a flaw, they are the first to know," you speak softly, afraid of ruining the calm ambiance you've set up, twirling the small amount of coffee left in your mug.

It's your favorite part of morning coffee. When you have just the smallest bit of coffee left, and you know you'll never drink it because it's cold, but it gives you an excuse to remain where you are.

"So, all I gotta do is listen?" It's funny you say that because Carmy listens, but his friend's voices get muddled somewhere along the way. As much as he tries to focus on them, they merge together and form a cacophony in his head.

"A lot of listening and a lot of experimentation. I've been open for two years, and it's only been in the last six months that I can confidently tell you we found our groove," you admit with a grimace.

Bee Hive is your baby, but bringing it to life was everything but easy. You messed up so many times, costing you so much money. You didn't know shit about owning a business or building one from the ground up. Doing research and putting your pride aside to ask for help got you through it.

"I've only been doing this for, like, less than a fuckin' year, and I already want to pull my hair out," Carmy admits with a pitiful laugh.

"I'm sorry I can't tell you it gets better soon," you say apologetically, reaching for his hand that rests on the table.

Carmy freezes, glancing at your hand on top of his. He hasn't got a clue what to fucking do with the display of affection. Was it a display of affection? He doesn't fucking know. "It's, uh, it's, uh, it's alright. As-as long as you give me coffee, I think I can make it through," Carmen furrows his eyebrows as he stutters through the sentence.

"I can't wait to see what the award-winning chef does," you say, bringing your hand back to your lap, none the wiser to Carmy's internal struggle.

He should've done something to keep your hand on his. Place his other hand on yours or fucking turn his hand around to grasp it. He liked feeling your warm skin on his. It hasn't been a minute since you pulled away, and he's craving it already. It's ridiculous. Is he really that touch-starved that he's seeking affection from a near stranger?

He coughs and darts his eyes between the wooden table top and you, "Fuck. You-you know about that?"

"I might've done some research after finding out you're opening the restaurant. I got curious. I'm sorry." Apologizing is your default thing to do. Messing things up is your area of expertise. You really didn't think he'd mind you mentioning it.

"No, no, no, uh, you don't have to apologize. You just caught me off guard," Carmy shakes his head, reassuring both of you.

"Okay, good," you lightly smile at him, averting your eyes when your gazes meet.

If there's a time for you to make a move, it's now. Taking a shaky breath, you speak up, "I was wondering if you'd ever like to-."

A loud knock on the glass door interrupts you. You and Carmy jump and look towards the source of the noise. It's one of your regular clients, waving at you to open up. Looking at your watch, you see it's 6:30 already.

"Shit. I'm-I'm sorry I took so much of your time," Carmy apologizes, picking up his mug and the plate to put away.

You grab his wrist to make him stop in his tracks, "Relax. I enjoyed talking to you. Maybe we can do it again soon?"

Carmy nods wide-eyed. He likes the idea just as much as you do. You take away the mug and plate with a soft 'okay.' He then follows you to the door as you unlock it and turn the sign to 'open.'

"I, um, gotta go work on the menu. I'll probably be back later for another coffee?" Carmen asks you as if he's asking for permission, which you find adorable.

"I'll be behind the register," you say, watching him walk away. He turns his head back for a moment, and you catch the smile gracing his lips as yours turns to mimic him.

"Oh, he's cute," your customer, an older lady, says, watching him go along with you. "It's about time you got a boyfriend."

"Mrs. O'Hara, here for your tea?" You ask her, ignoring the comment about your love life. That woman will set you up with anyone. She does love her tea, though, and expects you to provide it on time.

It's slow, but Carmen warms up to you. Instead of grabbing his coffee to go, he now drinks it at the café, coincidentally around the same time you take your break.

He's been hesitantly opening up. It's not like he's telling you about how fucked up his family is or how his brother committed suicide. More often, it's about the restaurant and his work as a chef, the struggles of getting every permit they need on a tight schedule since they are supposed to open in about four weeks now, or the occasional childhood memory. It's everything you need to know at this stage.

You love listening to Carmy talk, even if you have to coax it out of him sometimes. He's passionate about the restaurant despite all the stress that comes from it, and he adores the people he works with. He's shy but not in a dorky way because he's actually fascinating. Before meeting him, you never knew that collecting denim was a thing.

The smell of cigarettes that clings to him is also tightly laced with his character. When you step outside to get some sun and the scent of someone smoking hits you, your heart instantly speeds up, hoping it's him coming for his daily americano, or to come swoop you away into a sunset.

"-I fell on my ass in the middle of the street. I was freaking out, thinking I was gonna get run over by a car," you exclaim as you tell Carmy about the crazy Christmas you spent in New York last year.

"It's New York. You probably would have been run over," Carmy chuckles along with you. "There was this one time I was running late and-" His phone vibrating interrupts him.

"Sorry, it's just the fridge guy," he tells you with a furrow of his eyebrows. You notice he does that a lot when he's thinking deeply. Carmy silences it and looks back over to you.

"You should pick that up. A busted fridge is the last thing you need. Trust me. Been there, done that." You encourage him to take the call. The restaurant is more important than your story about how you bruised your coccyx in New York.

"Are you sure?"

"Yes, Carm! Call him back before you forget," you insist, grabbing his empty cup to trash it. You don't give him any other option, leaving him there to help your employees with a faulty machine.

He watches you closely, closer than ever before. He allows himself to watch how you frown at the machine and how your ringed fingers fumble with the knobs. His eyes keep trailing down involuntarily, and they take in how nicely your jeans hug your ass.

He goes into a spiral into these old pair of Levi jeans popular in the 90s and how they would fit nicely with the shape of your hips and legs. Carmy continues on the tangent, imagining himself peeling them off your body.

The phone vibrating in his hand snaps him out of it. Clearing his throat, he picks up the phone and walks outside. He waves at you through the window as he makes his way back to The Bear. Your frustration at the machine vanishes momentarily as you wave back, except the machine splatters, forcing you to redirect your attention. When you look outside again, he's gone.

Stakes are high at The Bear. There's less than four weeks until Friends and Family, and there is much to do. Marcus has returned from Copenhagen and is working on the desserts. Tina is doing her job as the new sous chef. Fak and Sweeps are helping out wherever they can. And Richie is being Richie, trying to be open but resisting change.

"I need coffee or a pop. Anything with caffeine," Sydney says, throwing her head back. She and Carmen have been working on the chaos menu for hours, and she keeps messing up. Carmy insists that it's okay that they'll adjust and get it right soon, but she's beginning to lose hope.

"Me too. I'd kill for an espresso," Natalie agrees, softly rubbing her hand over her growing bump.

"I thought you couldn't have caffeine cause of the baby," Richie mentions, remembering Tiff's time while pregnant.

"I don't need you to fuckin' tell me what I can or can't eat, Richie," Natalie yells, glaring at him. Although he's right, the doctor told her to limit her caffeine intake. Hard to do when she's up all night thinking about everything she needs to do for The Bear.

"Shit. I'm sorry for fucking caring," Richie screams back, lifting his hands up in defense.

"I can go to the coffee place down the block. Get everyone something," Carmy pipes up, looking forward to seeing you today.

Natalie is quick to shoot that idea down, "You can't. The fridge guy is coming in 20 minutes."

"Fuck, that's right," Carmy groans, digging his head in his hands. His fingers rake through his hair, messing up his curls. He wanted to see you and talk to you, even if it was for five short minutes.

"I'll go," Sydney sighs. She needs to leave the kitchen for more than five minutes, or she'll go crazy, "Just tell me what you guys want to order."

Natalie grumbles about getting decaf, Richie orders a plain black coffee, and Carmy asks for his americano. As Sydney leaves to ask Marcus, Carmy yells after her, "Please, go to Bee Hive. If you get Starbucks, I'm gonna fucking lose it."

Richie and Natalie exchange a look. Richie because he's confused, and Natalie because she knows something is happening with Carmy. He's never been picky over coffee. In fact, they have an old coffee machine in the office that now goes unused because he's always at that coffee shop.

"Sorry, I didn't get the fuckin' memo. Since when is Starbucks bad?" Richie frowns, looking to get a rise out of Carmy.

"I don't think it's about the coffee, cousin," Natalie responds, directing her gaze towards her brother, who is hunched over the counters, chopping vegetables.

"If it's not about the coffee, what is it about?" Richie questions, crossing his arms.

"Shut the fuck up, Sugar," Carmy grumbles, looking at his sister with a glare. He already knows where she's going. She tried to bring it up a couple of days ago after she walked by the coffee shop and saw him being friendly with you.

Natalie smiles and responds, "Carmy has a crush on the barista."

"That's ridiculous. I don't have a crush on her." Carmy shakes his head, avoiding Richie and Natalie's eyes on him. They always do this. They gang up on him if he shows even the slightest interest in a girl. They think they can help, but all they do is embarrass him.

"Come on, Bear. Why else would you go almost every day to get coffee?" Natalie asks, giving him a look.

"Because it's good fuckin' coffee. Jesus, it's not that deep." Carmy grabs the veggies he chopped and drops them into a container to use later.

"It's okay to admit you like a pretty girl, cousin! I'm excited for you! Makes you human and not a lonely hermit," Richie jokes, pushing on Carmy's buttons. "When was the last time you got laid?"

"I swear to God, Richie. Shut the fuck up," Carmy points at him angrily.

"No, I should go with Sydney and see who this girl is!" Richie says, walking out of the half-built kitchen.

Carmy follows him instantly, "You're not going fuckin' anywhere, fuckin' jagoff." He's turning red from anger, seeing Richie with his mocking smile. Natalie follows behind them, amused at the situation. It reminds her of the banters they used to get in with Mickey.

"Admit that you like her," Richie shrugs, giving him a choice.

"No, I won't," Carmy refuses. "You always do this shit."

"Then, I'm going," Richie nods, stepping towards the door.

"Fuck! Shit, alright. I like her, okay? Don't fucking go anywhere," Carmy yells, rubbing a hand on his face out of frustration. It's like he's not allowed to keep anything good to himself.

"Was that so hard?" Richie grins, clapping a hand on Carmy's shoulder.

"Don't fuckin' touch me," Carmy grumbles, walking back to the kitchen. Natalie follows him with a smile, shaking her head at Richie.

Carmy sighs and squeezes his eyes shut. He has yet to admit that he likes you more than he should. He's been avoiding it, afraid of what it might lead to, or rather, what it might not.

He couldn't let Richie go see you. He has a big fuckin' mouth and will tell you Carmy has a crush on you whether it's true or not. Just like that, he feels the sour taste in his mouth, his heartburn making an appearance. Carmy should go look for his pepto before it gets worse.

Unaware of the argument back at The Bear, Sydney walks to Bee Hive. She's walked past many times but has yet to have the time to stop and try it out.

As she waits in line, she reads over the drinks menu. It's clear that it's been carefully curated. Starbucks has nothing on this menu. She can see why Carmy would prefer to come here instead.

When it's her turn to order, Sydney takes out her phone to recite everyone's drink order. She also points to a few pastries, thinking Marcus would like to try some of them and get inspiration. That and she knows Natalie will enjoy them as well.

You're sitting at a table close to the pickup counter. You often find yourself all over the store, ensuring everything goes smoothly. Sometimes, you stop to talk to your regulars and see how they're doing.

You notice Sydney struggling with all the cups she has to carry. It's proving difficult despite the to-go trays your barista put them in. Deciding to approach her, you ask, "Do you need help?"

"Oh, no. I'm fine, thanks," Sydney responds with a nervous smile. She's trying hard to grab everything, including the box with the pastries.

You continue watching her struggle because you know she needs help. You let her try and figure it out for one more minute before stepping in again when she almost drops two of the drinks, "Need some help now?"

"Yeah," Sydney sighs, "I guess I can leave one of the trays here, go to the restaurant, and come back for the rest," she speaks mostly to herself.

"Are you going far?"

"No, just the restaurant down the block," Sydney responds with a sigh, scratching her eyebrow as she tries to figure out the logistics of carrying the drinks. She could get a box to put everything in.

You perk up at her response. The only restaurant down the block is Carmen's. Could she work there? "Carmy's restaurant?"

"You know Carmy?" Sydney asks, tilting her head. Maybe Nat was right. Carmy spends his time here because of the woman in front of her.

"He comes here often. Anyway, I can go with you to help you out. It's not far, and I'd feel bad if your drinks got cold." You offer to help her out because you're a nice person. Not because you want a chance to see the curly-haired man you are developing feelings for.

"You really don't have to…"

"It's really not a problem," you press, grabbing one of the to-go trays and motioning for her to lead the way.

Sydney sighs in defeat and nods, "Thanks. I'm Sydney, by the way."

"I'm Honey," you smile, following her outside.

You chat all the way to the restaurant with Sydney. She reminds you of Carmy in some ways, so you can see why they are friends. Before arriving at the restaurant, Sydney apologizes in advance for any sort of mess there might be, including yelling.

As you near the building under renovation, your palms start to sweat. Maybe you shouldn't have come. You're showing up unannounced, and he's probably too busy to talk to you anyway. You can slip in and out without him noticing. That's the goal now.

You open the door for Sydney, letting her go through first, and quietly follow her into the restaurant. There's no time to escape, as all eyes are instantly on you.

Richie is arguing with Fak when he sees you walk in. He narrows his eyes as Carmy looks in your direction from the kitchen. With just one glance to Carmy's face, he knows who you're supposed to be.

"Guess I didn't have to go anywhere. She came to me," Richie whispers, rushing out the door.

"Shut the fuck up. Where are you going? Don't embarrass me!" Carmy whispers out to Richie unsuccessfully.

"Oh, you'll do that all by yourself," Richie throws over his shoulder.

"Honey, hey, what-what're you doing here?" Carmy speaks, not giving Richie a chance to open his big mouth. He stands between you and Richie, blocking him for the time being.

"Sydney needed help with the drinks," you answer nervously, averting your eyes.

"Oh, thanks for that. You didn't have to," Carmy approaches you and takes the drinks from your hands. His fingers brush with yours momentarily, causing you both to blush.

"I did, or else you probably wouldn't have anything to drink," you whisper to him.

Sydney, Fak, and Richie all watch the interaction amusedly. Richie has a big teasing grin on his face as he makes a plan in his head.

"Hi, I'm Richie! Carmy's cousin," he introduces himself, shoving Carmy to the side and shaking your hand enthusiastically. "I gotta say Carmen right here is obsessed with your coffee. He's banned us from getting Starbucks."

Carmy curses under his breath as Richie does precisely what he tells him not to. He has the urge to throw the coffee at him and run away.

"Is that right?" You ask, amused, looking over at Carmy with a raised eyebrow.

"Oh yeah," Richie answers for him as Carmy tries to find the right words to say. "Cousin, why don't you give the nice lady a tour of the place?"

"It's not done yet. Could be dangerous," Carmy hopelessly says with a gulp.

"Nonsense! You'll take care of her!" Richie insists. He takes the coffee from Carmy's hands and pushes him in your direction. "Go give her a tour."

Richie, Sydney, and Fak all disappear to the office to stay out of the way and try to snoop simultaneously. Fak sends Carmy a not-so-discreet thumbs-up that makes you giggle.

He's internally screaming at his so-called friends but is glad to see you. It was all he wanted before Sydney left to get their drinks. It's strange having you here at The Bear, though. He's so used to seeing you in your own space back at Bee Hive.

Trying to make things better, you say, "Sorry you've been roped into this. You probably have better things to do. I can go-"

Carmy doesn't let you finish. "No, stay. I want to show you around."

"Let's see what you got then, Berzatto," you grin, following him to the kitchen.

Carmy takes his time showing you The Bear. He wants you to stay. He wants to spend time with you but doesn't really know how to say it. So he takes it slow, answers your questions about the restaurant, shows you the front and how everything will be laid out, and introduces you to the ones around, including the fridge guy working on the handle.

Sadly, you get a call from Bee Hive asking you to come back. Carmy walks you outside, dreading having to say goodbye.

"I'm really excited for The Bear to open. You have a great place and team," you tell Carmy.

"I really got lucky with them, huh?" He asks, playing with a dish towel.

"I gotta go. I'll see you later, Berzatto." You don't know where you got the guts to lean towards him and kiss his cheek.

Carmy stays still as his face heats up. You start walking away and throw him a smile over your shoulder. When you're a distance away, he touches the cheek you kissed. Back inside, Richie runs over to Sugar to tell her what he just witnessed.

It's late when Carmy leaves The Bear. As he walks to the train station, he has his hands stuffed in his jacket pocket. On his way, he sees a lone light turned on in your café. Crossing the street to check it out, he sees you're still there with glasses perched on your nose in front of the computer.

He tries the door, and to his luck, it's open. You look in his direction, startled, but relax once you see it's him.

"Nice glasses," Carmy teases, pulling out a chair to sit.

"Are you making fun of me?" You purse your lips, propping your chin on your palm.

"No, I…I think you look cute with them," Carmy admits. After a stern talk from Sugar and Richie, he's realized he should probably make a proper move on you because if what they say is true, you also have a crush on him.

"Thanks," you blush, the light from your screen making it obvious to Carmy, who can't stop the corners of his lips from turning up into a smile.

"Late night?"

"One of my baristas is moving out of state. I have to find someone new, preferably who has experience," you say with a sigh. Glancing at him, you add, "Are you perhaps interested in the position?"

"Poaching me from my own restaurant, nice. I'll let you know I'm an excellent worker," Carmy jokes, tapping his fingers on the table.

There's no doubt in your mind he's an excellent worker. He has to be if he's considered one of the best up-and-coming chefs. Or to work in one of the best restaurants in the world with three Michelin stars.

"I don't know. I'll need references," you speak as if not believing him.

Carmy smiles and softly chuckles, "Fair enough."

There's a moment of silence between the two of you that Carmy is quick to fill, "So, uh, have you had dinner yet by chance?" This is it.

You shake your head no and look at him with hopeful eyes.

"Wanna go grab pizza? I know a place," he asks, finding your gaze on him.

"Say no more," you say, closing your laptop and taking off your glasses. "I'm starving."

Carmy waits for you to lock Bee Hive and grab your things. Then, you both walk to the pizza place. To pass the time, you and Carmy talk about your days and anything that comes to mind. Nothing serious as you get to know each other.

Waiting in line to order the pizza, you tell him all about your nickname and how you were donned 'Honey' to everyone who knows you. In return, he tells you about his nickname 'Bear' and why his restaurant is named as such. For the first time, he dares mention Mickey.

"Best pizza in Chicago," Carmy says, taking a slice of the pie and placing it on your plate.

"I'll see about that," you murmur. You wait until he has a slice of his own and dig in simultaneously.

"It's good, but this is not the best pizza place in Chicago," you say after chewing the first bite, "I'm gonna get your chef license revoked."

"Are you? With what proof? Have you tried all the pizza places to know?"

"I don't have to because I've tried the best," you hum, taking another bite. The cheese stretches as you pull it away.

"Oh yeah? Which one?" Carmy questions you, taking a drink of his beer.

"Mine. The pizza I make is the best," you shrug modestly.

"Wait. You cook?" Carmy asks, giving you a look of surprise.

Cooking is a universal thing. Most people know how to cook up to a degree, yet only some are as confident in their skills as you are. You know you're definitely not up to Carmy's level, but if there is something you know how to do properly, it's pizza.

"Yeah! You're not the only good cook here, Berzatto," you sass back at him, dipping the pizza crust in the marinara sauce.

"Sorry for assuming," he raises his palms.

"You're forgiven," you chirp.

"When will I try this famous pizza of yours then?" Carmy wonders. An attempt to see if you'd like to see more of him.

"I promise I'll make it for you once you open The Bear. You're too stressed to fully enjoy it now," you respond. You were reaching out. Throwing hints that you want this to continue in the foreseeable future.

The conversation continues to flow with an empty pizza box in front of you. Customers come and go until it's only the two of you and a drunk customer picking up his pizza.

"Tell me about your tattoos. Were they an act of rebellion or something else?"

It's an excuse to touch his hands. You reach for them, turning them to see the black ink on his hands and fingers. You gently trace over them with the pads of your fingers. Over the hand that's stabbed, the letters S.O.U. on his knuckles and the forget-me-nots. The one you're dying to touch, though, is the one on his bicep; you'd give anything to feel the hard muscle underneath the rolled-up sleeves of his white t-shirt.

"Uh, my first tattoo is the 773. Got it when I left Chicago for the first time. After that, I sort of became addicted to them. I found they helped my anxiety when it was becoming too much. The pain distracted me and made me feel stronger than I actually was," he says, letting you touch him. He finds that he likes it. Your touch is soft and warm. Comforting.

"So what you're trying to say is you're a masochist," you say, bouncing your eyebrows at him. Your touch goes further up his arm to turn it and look at the fish tattoo on his forearm.

"I guess so," Carmy responds with a breathy laugh, "Do you have any tattoos?"

"Maybe…" You shrug as the pads of your fingers trail back down to his palm until you pull them back towards you. Carmy instantly misses the feeling, opting to cross his arms to retain the warmth you left behind.

"It's bad, isn't it?" He says knowingly. Your reaction told him everything he needed to know.

"The worst," you grimace, shaking your head at the memory of you getting it.

"So, rebellion or something else?"

"Rebellion. For all the wrong reasons," you groan, burying your face in your hands, "Growing up, everyone saw me as a good girl because that's what I was. Breaking the rules terrified me. So, as a teenager, I didn't want to be seen as a goody two shoes, so the summer before I went to college, I decided that getting a tattoo would make me a badass."

"Did it work?"

"God, no. I only got the outline done 'cause it hurt like a bitch. Then I went crying to my parents, fully having a meltdown, apologizing for disappointing them," You scrunch your nose as you say the following words, "They laughed in my face, called me a wimp, and told me to suck it up."

Carmy fully laughs at your story. Head thrown back, eyes closing, "What did you get?"

"That's a secret, Berzatto," you purse your lips, avoiding responding. You just know he'll make fun of you for it.

Everyone who has seen your tattoo has made fun of you for it, yourself included. It's so silly and not badass. Carmy will have to wait to see your tattoo, and you hope this continues so he can see it up close.

"Really? That bad?" Carmy stares wide-eyed.

"It's terrible," you nod, leaning on the table. "We should probably get going before the waitress throws a fit."

Carmy looks over his shoulder to see the waitress glaring at them. It's five minutes till close, and they've made no move to go. He turns back to you and nods towards the door. Carmy helps you with your jacket and leaves a tip on the jar for the waitress. At that, she happily calls after them with a 'Good night!'

"Do you live far?" Carmy asks, seeing how dark it is now that most places have closed. There are too many lamp posts that aren't working. He'd feel better if he could walk you home or you called an Uber. Preferably the former.

"Only a couple of blocks away. Why?"

"It's late. Let me walk you home," Carmy says decidedly, not giving you much of a choice.

"Thanks," you respond with a small smile.

The pace you set is slow. You don't want your time with Carmy to end just yet. He's such an interesting and sweet guy. He's a little awkward, but it adds to his charm, and you can see he's trying.

Somewhere along the way, his hand brushes against yours briefly. Then, it happens again, and you decide to bite the bullet. You grasp his hand in yours.

"Is this okay?" You ask when he falls silent.

Carmy doesn't have a lot of experience with girls. He can't even remember the last time he held a girl's hand. All he knows is he doesn't remember ever feeling this good. "Yes, uh, this is okay."

Carmy walks you up to your front door when you reach your house. You unlock the door but stay outside face-to-face with Carmy.

"Thanks for the pizza," you say, fiddling with your fingers. You were about to make one more move for the night. Because as long as Carmy allows you, you'll keep pushing for more.

"Sorry, it wasn't the best," he retorts, rubbing his jaw with his hand. You notice he does that a lot when nervous.

"Your company made up for it," you reassure him, "g'night Carmy." You kiss his cheek goodbye, watching as his cheeks blush.

"Night," he whispers.

As you turn to leave, Carmy stops you by grabbing your wrist, "Wait-uh, can I? Uh-shit. Fuck it." For a second, Carmy shuts out the excessive thoughts in his head and does what he's been dying to do for weeks.

Carmy cups your jaw and kisses you. It's soft and slow. He gives you enough leeway to pull away if it's something you don't want, but you reciprocate eagerly. You've been waiting for this all night.

As confidence surges through his body, Carmy throws an arm around your waist, pulling you closer. You wrap your arms around him, one of your hands resting on his neck, tangling on his curls. The tug of your fingers feels like heaven.

The kiss turns needy and desperate, your lips moving perfectly in sync. His tongue brushes over your lip; Carmy has been dying to test a theory. Are you as sweet as your name?

He's rewarded by a little noise in the back of your throat as he slips his tongue into your mouth. It's endearing, and he finds a way to make you do it again. With heads tilting to deepen the kiss, he concludes he was right. You're pure honey. Sweet and addicting.

When Carmy returns to his apartment, he gets the urge to create, to cook. He wants to bring your taste to life with his cooking. Something with honey.

"I was wondering if you'd want to come to the restaurant for Family and Friends."

You and Carmy are in your little office at Bee Hive. He stands between your legs as you sit on the desk. His lips are slightly red and swollen, and the hair at the nape of his neck is messier than usual.

"Hm, I could be persuaded," you pretend to think as you play with the golden chain around his neck, pulling him towards you.

"Yeah?" Carmy laughs, leaning to brush his lips against yours. When he feels you nod, he closes the small gap between the two of you.

His hands hold your hips, pulling you impossibly closer. He tastes like coffee, which is to be expected from the discarded cup beside you. It's funny how your relationship, if it could be called that, has moved all around Bee Hive from the register to the front and now to your office.

You're at a weird spot where you're not exactly friends because friends don't kiss, but you're not a couple either. It's a situationship for sure. You're content with what you have now, although you'd also love it if Carmy were to ask you to be more. You pin it on him being shy. He'll get around to it.

"What do you say?" Carmy questions as he kisses a trail from your cheek to your jaw.

"Consider me in," you giggle when he kisses a tickly spot.

Carmy brushes a strand of hair out of your face, remaining close to you. This is what he needs. After months of stress and anxiety of having to deal with The Beef, now The Bear, he needed you and your calming presence. Someone removed from the chaos, a safe haven.

He's quiet as his thoughts consume him, and you take the intimate position to fix his gold chain. Turning it so the clasp faces the back instead of the front. "I'm excited, Carmy," you say with a smile, brushing his cheek with your thumb.

"You can bring someone with you," Carmy offers nervously because he realizes he probably won't have the time to spend much time with you. "I-I don't think I'll be around much. I'm sorry. I'd understand if that makes you change your mind," Carmy drops his head as he braces himself for disappointment.

As the weeks pass, you learn more about Carmy and his insecurities. It doesn't deter you from wanting to be with him. Everyone has their issues. "Berzatto, stop. Look at me," you softly divert his attention, "I'd love to go and support you even if it's from the sidelines."

"You sure?" He asks once more.

If reassurance is what he needs, that's what you'll give. "Don't worry about me. This is your moment, Carmy. Enjoy it. I'll be around afterward."

"Thank you for understanding," Carmy responds, stealing one more kiss from you.

When he returns to The Bear, he helps Sydney prep the dishes they finally chose to serve. He notes how everything is laid out and anything they should fix before opening.

Richie struts into the kitchen with a suit on. Apparently, it's his thing now. Carmy figures staging at Chef Terry's restaurant had a good impact on him. All Carmy wanted was to show Richie he had what it takes. That he's not a fuck up.

"Glad to see things are going well with Honey," Richie thunders.

"What are you talking about?" Carmy says in a rush as he plates the lamb expertly.

"That thing on your neck," Richie says, motioning to his own neck. He has a smug look on his face.

"I don't have time for this, cousin," Carmy grumbles, wiping the plate where the sauce might've splattered.

Groaning, Richie grabs one of the new pans and holds it in front of Carmy. "I don't see anything," he frowns, looking at Richie for an explanation.

"Right here," Richie points towards the edge of his t-shirt around his neck.

Carmy pulls it back and finally spots what Richie has been referring to. There is a fading purple bruise on his skin, a hickey. You must've done it when he was back in your office. He'd been too busy touching you to notice.

Sydney, silently watching, pipes up, "No wonder he hasn't been as on edge lately." Carmy shoots her a glare, which causes her to shrug and laugh with a, "What? It's true."

"Ay, yo, Sugar, get in here!" Richie yells down the hall to the office.

"What is it?" Natalie barges in, afraid something went to shit.

Carmy ignores Richie as he babbles to Natalie what he found. His face is red, though, as Sydney nudges his side.

"That's enough about me. We have shit to do," Carmy shouts in his chef's voice.

Everyone in the kitchen, including Richie and Natalie, repeats, "Yes, chef!"

Walking out of the kitchen Richie, 'whispers' to Natalie, "I've always wondered if he likes to be called chef in bed."

"Fuck off, Richie," Natalie glares, but then it falls, and it's replaced with a teasing grin, "He definitely does."

"I heard that! Don't you two have better things to do?" Carmy screams at them.

"Yes, chef!"

Carmy keeps hearing Cicero's 'Uh-oh' throughout the whole day. He understands Cicero, he really does, but to call you a distraction?

His work with The Bear is only starting. They managed to make it to Friends and Family. Now, they have to keep up their best work to fill up the restaurant daily and have a waiting list. His work is far from done. He should listen to Cicero.

Cicero said it with the best of intentions. He doesn't want the Berzatto siblings to fail. He wants to believe they'll succeed and, most importantly, get him his money.

If there is something Cicero has learned throughout the years, it is that girls are distractions. They mean well, but oftentimes, they keep your eyes off the ball. Especially when it's a new relationship like Carmy's. Ultimately, it's up to Carmy to decide what he wants to do. Cicero has played his part by giving him his advice.

One last delivery is made to the restaurant an hour before opening. Richie is the one to receive it and place it in front of Carmy. "She's a keeper, Cousin," he says with a pointed look and a nod. He also wants the best for Carmy, and yet it doesn't align with Cicero.

You knew Carmy would be too stressed and all over the place to eat or drink, so you sent everyone at The Bear a drink and a pastry. One of the cups has Carmen's name with a little heart and 'good luck' written on it.

"Yeah, she is," Carmy sighs, turning the cup in his hands to look at the message. His thumb brushes over your handwriting longingly. Is listening to Cicero the wise thing to do? He's one of the most successful men he knows in his family.

When it's 10 minutes till open, Carmy changes into his uniform and looks in the mirror. His heart is racing, begging for Friends and Family not to be a complete failure. Walking out of the bathroom, Carmy is a man on a mission.

It starts relatively well, but like everything in Carmy's life, the kitchen starts welcoming in the chaos.

They are too slow getting the orders out, which causes Sydney to start doubting herself and asking Carmy to step in. He reassures her she's doing good. They just have to keep up the pace.

Then, one of the new chefs disappears mid-rush. Forcing Tina to work two stations and Marcus to step out of his to help Sydney. Carmy ignores some weird tension between them as he works on ensuring the dishes are good to go.

Next thing he knows, Sugar is rushing into the kitchen, yelling at him about forks. It's wasted time, as he can't do anything about it. A shrill reverberates inside his head as he looks at the ticking clock. It's enough to give him a headache.

With no one to take a dish to its table, Carmy takes it upon himself to do it. There's no time to re-fire or wait for someone. He places it on their table and pours the tea into their cups before retreating with an 'enjoy.'

He looks at his restaurant, and suddenly, the ringing in his head gets louder. Sitting in a booth is his old boss, staring back at him like he did back in New York. Like he was waiting for Carmy to fail.

His voice echoes in Carmy's head. Why are you so fuckin' slow. Hurry up. Go faster motherfucker. Talentless piece of shit.

Right before Carmy spirals, it all goes away. His focus shifts entirely as he sees you taking your seat for the night. The one he chose because he'd be able to see you from the kitchen. You have successfully blocked the mirage he'd conjured up.

You're there with your brother as Richie talks you up, thanking you for coming. As if sensing him, your eyes lock with Carmys. Shyly, you send him a wave, which he returns, thanking you in his head for getting there at the perfect time.

Carmy ducks back to the kitchen with newfound energy. Richie enters shortly after him.

"Chef, your girl is here."

"Thanks, Chef, um, do you have the notepad?" Carmy asks as he continues cleaning dishes and making sure each one is up to par.

"Here you go."

Taking the notepad from Richie, he begins scribbling. I love- No, too fuckin' soon. Thank you for- Nope, it's too stale.

I'm happy you're here, Honey. Wait for me after you're done? -Bear

"Here," Carmy hands it to him without even looking at Richie.

"Keep up the good work, Chefs," Richie yells out to the room before disappearing to the front of the house. The door swinging shut behind him.

"Yes, Chef!"

Something isn't working in the kitchen. They're too backed up, and no matter how hard they try, they're always a tad too slow. Through Sydney surrounding the wheel to Richie, Carmy steals glances out the kitchen window. You're smiling at whatever your brother says, your lips sipping the wine he chose. Carmy can get through this night because, in the end, you'll be waiting for him.

"There he is," you sing as you spot Carmy walking out of the kitchen. The chef's whites back in his locker as he sports his white t-shirt, jeans, and jacket.

Fak, who kept you company while Carmy finished up, speaks up next, "My brother, I'm gonna grab a sandwich and head home. Honey, it was a pleasure meeting you."

"You too, Neil!"

"Thanks for everything," Carmy tells him, giving him a hug and a pat like dudes do.

Carmy turns and grabs your hand to pull you close and kiss your cheek. "What did you think?"

"It was the most delicious thing I've ever tasted," you tell him, wrapping an arm around his shoulders.

There's a reason Carmy has had so many accolades despite his young age. He has a gift in the kitchen. The moment his food touched your taste buds, your life changed. He and Sydney outdid themselves, and the way everything flowed showed how much work they put into the restaurant.

"You're exaggerating," Carmy modestly says, his arms wrapping around your waist.

"I'm really not," you shake your head, pursing your lips. Carmy can't resist placing a small peck on your red-painted lips.

"What about your famous pizza?"

"No, it might be the best pizza in Chicago, but whatever I ate today topped it," you smile at him, scrunching your nose. "Consider your chef's license reinstated,"

"Thanks," Carmy laughs breathily, "Do you mind if we walk? I feel some of the rush still."

"Lead the way, Mr. Berzatto."

Carmy grabs your hand, leading you to the streets of Chicago. It's silent momentarily as the wind cools Carmy's heated face. He places his hand along with yours into his pocket.

"Did your brother like it?" He asks, breaking the ice.

"Oh yeah. I'm officially like the best sister ever," you respond, squeezing his hand.

You had accidentally forgotten that your brother had passed the Bar exam. So, you didn't have time to get him anything in celebration. You figured dinner at a lovely new restaurant would help while you got him a proper present.

"How did you feel throughout, though? It looked intense." You often found yourself looking through the small glass window into the kitchen. They were always on the move, looking for the next thing to do.

"It didn't just look like it. I'm used to it, though," Carmy admits with a sniff. Everyone's best and worst habits shone through for those couple of hours. It's an environment he's all too familiar with, in and out of the kitchen.

"That rough," you grimace.

"It's fine. We have a lot to work on, but it's a start, and it wasn't entirely terrible," Carmy says, thinking back on tonight. Before coming out to meet you, he wrote down a couple of things to go through with Sugar and Sydney.

"Good, 'cause I hope The Bear sticks around the block," you say, bumping your shoulder with his.

You invite Carmy into your house when you arrive. He takes up your offer, holding your hand to help you balance as you take your heels off. It reminds Carmy he forgot to mention how beautiful you looked today.

He follows you to the kitchen, watching your hips sway and your dress skirt swishing. Padding to the wine fridge, you pick out a bottle of red to celebrate.

Carmy indulges in looking at your legs as you stretch up to reach for the glasses of wine up in your cabinets. His blue eyes darken as your dress hikes up, exposing your pretty thighs.

His gaze darts back up at you when you turn around to place the glasses on the kitchen counter. You hand him the wine opener so he can do the honors because you suck at taking the cork out. It's why you mainly stick to cheaper wines with twist-off caps.

"Here is to The Bear and its amazing owner," you say, lifting your glass in front of you.

"Here's to not fuckin' it up entirely," Carmy follows, making you giggle. Your wine glasses clink, and you take a drink.

Placing the glass back down, Carmy pins you against the counter, his strong hands resting on the edge of it. You look at him through your lashes, a hand coming up to his chest to feel the steady thumping of his heart.

"You look beautiful. I like the dress," Carmy murmurs. It's better late than never.

The dress you wear is a pretty shade of light blue. Simple yet dressy. The neckline gives him a good view of your cleavage and has long sleeves to compensate for the shorter length. They currently cover the goosebumps lining your skin.

"Yeah? I picked it out thinking you might," you reveal, biting your lip. The shade reminded you of his eyes.

"You were right," he whispers, cupping your jaw. As pretty as the dress is, he's sure it'll look so much better on the floor.

Carmy closes his eyes as he leans down to kiss you. He's always struggled with words, so he hopes it's enough for you to catch what he's trying to say.

You smile into the kiss, blindly leaving your glass to the side to be able to touch him. Your palm presses against his chest and taut abdomen. He hides a nice amount of muscle under his t-shirts, a pleasant surprise.

Carmy easily lifts you up to sit down on the kitchen island. He steps between your legs, never breaking the heated kiss. The hands on your waist trail down to your thighs and under your dress. Carmy's tattooed hands squeeze your ass and thighs, earning him a moan from you.

This is the farthest you've ever gotten, and you're more than ready to have all of him. Carmy knows this, which leads to his thoughts getting out of control.

He has to make a decision now. Does he allow himself to be with you, or does he remain by himself like always? Richie's, Sugar's, Cicero's, and Sydney's voices all shout at him different things. Some are in favor, and others are in opposition. 'Uh oh.'

He can't lead you on and sleep with you if he will back out tomorrow. The voices become deafening in an instant, ripping him away from your embrace. His emotions bubbled over and spilled all over the place.

"Wait, stop, I just-" Carmy breathes heavily, taking a couple of steps back from you. Carmy's hand comes up to his forehead as he attempts to organize his thoughts.

"What's wrong?" You ask worriedly. Did you do something wrong?

Carmen's thoughts spill out his mouth without making much sense as he paces in your kitchen. "I can't stop thinking about it and owe it to my team..."

"Carm?" You slide off the kitchen counter, approaching him slowly.

"-keeps saying it's a distraction," he rambles mostly to himself. His heart is pounding painfully in his chest. If he didn't know any better, he'd think he was having a heart attack.

"Hey, hey, hey. What's a distraction?" Softly, you grab onto his arms, stopping him in his tracks, trying to find his lost gaze.

"You. Whatever this is," Carmy breathes, finally meeting your eyes, which he instantly regrets as your eyes turn sad.

The watering of your eyes is unintentional, as is the knot forming in your throat. "You think I'm distracting you?" You question barely above a whisper.

His response is instant, "Fuck, no, the opposite. W-When I'm with you or-or think about you, things get clearer, and it's-it's when I feel the most focused." Carmy holds your shoulders, comforting you because he never meant to hurt you. He can't stand the sad look in your eyes.

Slowly, you begin to piece together his rambling and conclude that other people have been telling him you're a distraction. You wonder if they don't want him to be happy. The Bear is the center of Carmy's life, and before that, it was the restaurant in New York. He deserves more than this crazy job.

"Then fuck what others tell you, Carmen. You deserve to have a life outside The Bear." Maybe you're selfish because you don't want to lose him, but you hope he believes your words.

"I-I don't. I don't deserve all your attention or your affection. I'm nothing special. I don't deserve you." Carmy says, shaking his head with furrowed brows.

Weeks ago, he had no source of enjoyment. He said it himself at the support group. Now, he has you, yet he can't bear the thought of you wanting to be with him. He feels like he's tricking you into a bad deal. That's what he is, though, isn't he? An overachieving fuck up with tons upon tons of baggage.

Carmen Berzatto is an anxious person with too many problems in his life. He has a fucked up family. His mother is a mentally unstable alcoholic. His brother was addicted to painkillers and decided that shooting himself on a bridge was better than living this life. That's without mentioning all the trauma he has from his job and the terrible people he's worked with.

What good does he have to offer you?

"Yes, you do," you reassure him, placing your hands on his cheeks. The cool metal of your rings soothes him somewhat, grounding him. "You deserve all that and more, Carmy. You're so sweet and kind and hard-working. You've been through shit. You deserve something good in life. Maybe it's me, or maybe it's not, but don't close yourself off."

You're begging at this point. Whatever this relationship is, it's just starting. He's not giving himself a chance. You like Carmy so damn much. He's funny without knowing it and thoughtful, too. There are so many qualities he doesn't realize he has.

His eyes watch you as tears line them. He's silently pleading for you to convince him. To get him out of his own head and forget the expectations others have on him.

"I'm not going to force you into anything, Carm. It's your call, but I've enjoyed our last couple of months together. I know we don't know each other completely, but I want to know everything about you. I have feelings for you, so whatever you decide, I'll support it."

Being honest is all you can do at this point. You pour your heart out and hope Carmy chooses you.

You and Carmy stand in the middle of your kitchen. Face to face, reaching out towards each other. It's clear as day that you want the same thing. It's only a matter of taking the right steps now.

"I can't let you go," Carmy responds, grabbing the hand on his cheek. His thumb brushes over the back of it.

"Then don't."

Carmy's decision is made. Without another thought, he smashes his lips against yours. He grabs the back of your neck, tilting your head to meet his heated kiss.

It's more intense now that the cards are on the table. Nothing to hold him back.

Tongues clash together as your bodies seek each other out. The temperature rises when Carmy lifts you up to wrap your legs around his hips. His hands are on the back of your thighs, holding tight onto you.

"Bedroom?" He asks, breaking the kiss, a trail of saliva between the two of you.

"Down the hallway," you breathe heavily, kissing down his neck.

Carmy makes it to the bedroom, opening the door with a bang. He spots your bed, placing you in the middle with him holding himself up on top of you.

He watches as your back meets the bed and your fair fans around you like a halo. The curvature of your breasts accentuated even more from the position.

Carmy hikes your leg further up his hips as he dips down to kiss a wet trail down to the neckline of your dress. He leaves open-mouthed kisses on the rounded flesh, nipping at the skin playfully when you arch your back to push more into him.

"Carmy," you breathe, cupping his jaw to pull him back to your lips. Grinding your hips, you manage to graze against his bulge.

"Shit," Carmy shakily curses, thrusting his hips to meet your touch once more.

Curiously, your hands wander across his body. Carmy's moans in your ear make your panties wetter than they already are.

You grasp the hem of his shirt, pulling it up and off. You're desperate to have him, your cunt aches for him. Your nails scratch down his firm stomach when he bites into your earlobe, softly calling your name.

"Unzip me," you pant, pushing him away and pulling your hair off to the side.

Carmy grabs the small zipper, pushing it down and exposing your pretty skin. As he slides the fabric off of you, he kisses your shoulders and back, taking note of the goosebumps on your skin.

His mind is in the present, and nothing can take it away from him. It's like a switch he managed to turn off in his brain. No more family drama, no more The Bear. It's just you...and him. Honey and Bear.

You stretch your neck to the side, giving Carmy more space to pepper kisses across the delicate skin. The dress pooling at your feet exposes your chest, and Carmy's hands come up from behind you. His fingers shyly brush up your stomach, tickling you, until they find your breasts.

He draws a moan from you as he squeezes them in his palms, pushing you back to meet his chest; turning your head to the side, you find his lips.

The kiss breaks when he slides one of his hands into your underwear, dipping his finger to feel your wetness. Your arm reaches back to dig your fist in his curls.

"You're soaked, Honey," he moans, finding your clit to tease it.

"Been waiting for so long, Carmy," you whine as your hips stutter along with the flicks of his wrist.

"I'm sorry. I'm here now," he purrs into your ear.

Carmy can hear the distinct 'shlick, shlick, shlick' of his fingers against your clit. It spurs him on as he slips a finger into you. He can't wait to have his cock inside of you, snug and warm.

"Oh my god, Carmen," you gasp when he prods another finger into your entrance. Hanging onto his arm across your chest, you roll your hips against his fingers.

"I got you," he says, digging his fingers deeper into you and curling them.

Your knees buckle as the tips of his fingers curl and hit your g spot repeatedly. If it weren't for him, you'd be on the floor. With your tummy tensing under the weight of the pleasure, you stutter out, "I'm gonna cum."

Carmy's hand is wet from your juices as he ups the ante. Just as your walls begin to squeeze around his fingers, he pulls them out to circle around your clit.

"Oh, f-fuck!" You squeal, throwing your head back onto his shoulder.

The way your clit softly twitches under the pads of his fingers fucks with Carmy. It makes his cock throb and leak into his jeans.

Untangling from his embrace, you place a breathless kiss on Carmy's lips. His slick digits dig into your hips as he prolongs it.

Blindly, you find the edge of his jeans and unbutton them. If Carmy notices, he doesn't say anything. You want to give him one more reason to stay with you.

He moans into your mouth when you grasp his length through his boxers. He's rock hard as he desperately ruts against your hand.

With your hold still on him, you push him to sit on the bed. Carmy looks up at you lustfully. You plant a single short kiss on his lips before kneeling on the floor between his legs. You leave love bites down his chest while looking up at him through your lashes.

Carmy brushes away any hair that falls on your face, his blue eyes focused solely on you. When you reach the waistband of his pants, you pull them down along with his underwear.

His length pops up from its confines, slapping against his tummy. Its tip is a pretty pink shade, with a thick length and a slight curve to it. You salivate instantly at the sight of it.

Carmy's nervous under you. It's been a long since he's been with someone else, and he's never been the most confident.

"Relax," you say teasingly, kissing around his lower tummy to calm him.

Finally, your hand wraps around his cock, lightly pumping it. Leaving sloppy kisses down his happy trail, you feel Carmy's stomach taut in anticipation.

It's been so fuckin' long.

With your eyes staring into his hungry ones, you kiss the pink head that glistens with pre, teasingly brushing it against your lips. Keeping eye contact, you lick his length from base to tip. You alternate between kissing and licking for a minute, enjoying watching Carmy squirm.

"Fuck, Honey," Carmy throws his head back at your torturous pace.

"Look at me," you sweetly say.

Taking mercy on him, you part your lips to take his length into your warm, wet mouth, bobbing your head to a steady rhythm. Prying one of Carmy's hands from the bedsheets, you place it in your hair, encouraging him to use you.

"Good girl," he moans, fisting your hair to force you to take more of his cock. You let your hands rest on his thighs, feeling the strong muscles underneath.

Carmen observes you with hooded eyes as you hollow your cheeks, sucking him expertly. He's obsessed with how your lips leave behind a tinge of red lipstick on his skin.

"Shit-Fuck me," he yells into the room when you swallow around him.

You want him to cum, but Carmy has other plans. He doesn't think he'll last long if you make him cum now, so after the stunt you pulled, he pulls you off his sensitive cock.

The sight in front of him is erotic as a string of saliva connects you to his cock. The tears lining your eyes and blushed nose add to that pretty picture.

"c'me 'ere," he says, helping you up and kissing you as he leads you back to the bed. He tugs off your wet panties, throwing them somewhere in the room.

You lay back on your pillows with Carmy slotted between your legs. It's torture having him so close and yet so far. Now that you've gotten a taste of his cock you need more.

Carmy touches the inside of your thighs, inching his way closer to your cunt. He instantly notices how fuckin' wet you are. You're dripping even more than before.

"Sucking me off, got you this wet, princess?" He asks, leaning his forehead against yours.

"Mhm, Carmy, wish you would've cum in my mouth," you admit, tilting your head up to brush your lips against his.

"You have such a dirty fuckin' mouth," he chuckles darkly.

Where did this side of you come from? You're usually so sweet and delicate. He should've known you would be a freak in bed. To think he almost let this all go.

"Carmen, please."

"Please, what?" Carmen teases, lining his cock against your opening, wetting his cock.

"Fuck me," you moan, kissing his jaw.

"'m gonna fuck you good, princess," he promises, with a shaky nod before he remembers, "Fuck! I-I don't have a condom with me."

"I should have some in my drawer," you mention breathlessly.

Carmy opens the condom in record time but is surprised when you take it from his hands and roll it down his shaft yourself. You just want an excuse to keep touching him.

With your leg hiked up, he aligns himself and slowly pushes in. You both gasp at the sensation. Carmy, for one, is trying to not bust a nut so soon because you're so tight and warm.

Meanwhile, you hold onto Carmy's back as he stretches you out. It's been so long, and your toys aren't nearly as thick as him. You breathily moan in his ear, which he takes as a good sign as he begins thrusting more forcefully and deeper.

Carmy hopes this isn't a dream, and if it is, he hopes he doesn't wake up anytime soon. He has one hand holding onto your thigh and the other holding himself up. His gold chain dangles above you as he picks his head up from its spot on your shoulder. You take the chance to tug on it, returning his attention to your lips.

"You feel so fuckin' good, princess," Carmy groans, squeezing your thigh.

"I love your cock, Carmy," you whine, feeling the drag of his cock on your walls. The pleasure is all-consuming, leaving a fuzzy feeling in your brain.

"You like when I fuck you like this?"

"Yes, yes, yes, keep going."

His hips snap hard against yours, hitting that spot each and every time. His pelvis hitting your clit. He squeezes your thigh, hips, and sides before his hand squeezes your tits, too, playing with your nipples.

Suddenly, he straightens up, pulling you down the bed to have you flushed against his pelvis. He's a sight for sore eyes that forces you to keep your eyes open.

His thrusts are more forceful like this, where he digs his fingers into the fat of your hips to pull you towards him with each snap. It makes your tits bounce, hypnotizing him.

Through your lustful gaze, he looks like a marble statue. His chest glimmers under the lowlights of your room as sweat clings to him, his chain jumping against the blushed skin of his chest, and his fucking hair falling over his pretty eyes. The set of his jaw could've been sculpted by Michaelangelo himself.

Your hands indulgently reach down to touch him in any way you can. You can only reach his stomach, where a nice pair of abs appear due to the effort.

"You like what you see?" Carmy teases. He's entirely lost on you because otherwise, he wouldn't be as cocky to say that.

"You're so handsome," you pitifully say. Your brain not computing as it should, but how can it when it's being fucked out of you?

Carmy doesn't know how to respond. It's not often he's called handsome or looked at as lustfully as you're looking at him. Thankfully, he doesn't need to say much as your eyes roll back and you squeeze your walls around him.

"Carmy, I'm so close," you pant, trying to find any part of him to hold. He offers you his hand, lacing your fingers together.

"Just a little longer, princess," Carmy groans as you clench around him. "Fuck, don't do that to me."

He glances down at the spot where you and him meet to see a ring of white on the base of his cock. He's enthralled with the way you stretch to accommodate him and the way your pink walls drag along his length when he pulls out. Fuckin' beautiful.

Putting all his knowledge to use, he thumbs your clit, making you jolt. He needs you to cum now, or he won't make it. His balls feel like they're about to burst.

"Carmy," you cry out, tightening the hold on his hand.

You teeter on the edge for only a second until you cum, waves of pleasure washing over you. Carmy curses from above you as your tightening walls choke his cock, making him cum too. He stutters his hips a couple more times, riding out his orgasm.

He leans back down again, catching your lips in a small kiss. His body slowly relaxes against yours as his head rests on your neck, breathing in the scent of sweat and perfume.

"That was good," you breathe heavily, rubbing your hands up and down your back. You're just starting to think clearly.

"Fuckin' amazing," he adds.

There's a beat of silence before you both burst out laughing.

A bubble encases you, and it can't be popped as long as you stay in your bedroom. Carmy doesn't want to leave; it's late already, and in a couple of hours, he has to get up and go to The Bear to repeat the process.

For once, he forgets about that and focuses solely on you. He has a couple of hours to spare. Sleep is overrated.

You face each other on the bed, talking in hushed whispers. Your fingers trace the '773' tattoo on his bicep like you've always wanted to do. It tickles Carmy, so he grabs your hand and kisses your palm.

"Now that I'm thinking about it. I didn't see your tattoo," he whispers to prevent disturbing the peace.

Your face warms at his words. You had forgotten about that. He's seen a lot of you in the past couple of hours. What's a bit more of skin?

"You missed my big bad tattoo?" you joke, poking his nose.

"Show me," he says with a lopsided smile.

You make it dramatic, rolling your eyes and giving him a big sigh. Sitting up on the bed, you peel the bed sheets from your body. Carmy props himself up on his elbow in anticipation.

Right there, on your left side and under the curve of your breast is a small outline of Winnie the Pooh's face. Carmy touches it, biting his lip to hold back a laugh. Unsurprisingly, it's precisely what he expected from you.

A few chuckles pass his lips as he pulls you back into his arms.

"Don't laugh. It made sense at the time," you whine, covering yourself back up.

Carmy pulls you to his chest, kissing your temple, "I'm sure it does. Pooh Bear loves his Honey," Just like he does.

"Exactly! Someone gets it!"

And he does because Carmy, aka The Bear, is quickly falling for his Honey.

A couple of days later, Carmy is back at your house helping you prepare the famous pizza you promised him. He lets you take the lead on everything, preferring to follow your instructions rather than let his mind run wild. It's not like you'll let him do most of the work anyway; it's your recipe, and you're protective over it.

"Can you chop up the veggies?" You ask him as you lay down the dough in a pan.

"Yes, Chef," he nods, kissing your cheek as he digs through your kitchen drawers for a knife.

"Oh, I like the sound of that," you muse, shaking your shoulders as you knead the dough to spread it.

"Don't let it get to your head, Hun," Carmy smiles, slicing the vegetables expertly.

Cooking with Carmy is surprisingly easier than you thought. He's not controlling over the kitchen or judgy. He lets you do your thing in peace, following your orders no matter how strange they might be. This is your kitchen, not his.

As you spread the sauce and cheese over one of the doughs, Carmy gets a call. He wipes his hands with a rag and picks it up. You only hear his side of the conversation.

"No, I'm off tonight. I'm with my girl. Call Sugar. She should be able to help you with that. Great. Thanks."

Carmy had promised himself that he would try to balance it all better. He has his team to help each other out. The Bear is a priority, but so are you because you help him keep whatever sanity he has left.

Carmy hangs up, and when he returns to you, he notices the grin on your lips as you put the toppings he chopped on the pizza.

"What's with the smile?" Carmy stands behind you, wrapping his arms around your waist as he props his head on your shoulder. Your hair tickles his nose, smelling the notes of coconut of your shampoo he digs his head farther into it.

"I'm your girl?" You ask, the smile still present on your face. He'd missed your initial reaction when you heard him call you 'my girl.' You almost dropped the container of pepperoni that was in your hands. It's a shock cause he never asked you to be his girl.

Carmy pauses and tenses up against you. "Uh, yes? Hold up. Turn around," he orders, as he places his hand on your hips to turn your body around.

"Yes, chef," you respond cheekily, your arms around his neck, careful not to touch his sweater with your messy hands.

"Aren't you my girl?" He frowns, rubbing a thumb over your hips.

"I could be, but I don't remember you asking," you pretend to think.

Carmy never directly asked you to be his girlfriend, and you never asked him to be your boyfriend. You might as well be a couple since you've been dating long enough. You decide to seize the opportunity now to get it out of him. Having a proper anniversary day would be nice because you hope this lasts.

"I see, my mistake," Carmy nods, catching your vibe, "Honey…"

"Yes, Carmy?" You blink innocently at him.

"Would you do me the honor of becoming my girlfriend?" He finally asks.

You could joke around but decided against it cause the moment is perfect, "I'd love to," you nod, giving him a small kiss.

When the pizza is cooked, you bring it over to the dining table. Serving Carmy a pretty slice. Excitedly, you wait for him to bite into it and taste it.

"What do you think?" You ask expectantly.

"You were right. Best pizza in Chicago," Carmy agrees with an unbelievable laugh. He's got a lot to learn from you. It's the truth, or maybe he's blinded by his feelings. Only time will tell where you and Carmy will end up.

The End?

thank you guys for pulling through and reading! i know it's a slow burn but i hope you liked it! i certainly enjoyed writing it even though it took me like 4 months.

if you liked it, i would appreciate you liking it, commenting or reblogging. if you have some feedback feel free to send it my way too. i wanna get better at this whole writing thing!

thank you! bye xx

[another-runaway]

Not my ex logging onto tumblr dot com to tell the most contrived, contextless version of the worst fights of our relationship to make herself appear like the delicate victim of my anger lmaooo

[so-many-pink-elephants]

Understanding what heartbreak is is interesting to say the least, especially when one of your biggest fears and prediction of what a relationship would look like for your becomes a bit too true.

Idk how I'm taking it, but I'm taking it I guess

At least Everything Everywhere All at Once won 7 oscars so that's nice

[disneyprincemuke]

not a gamer * fem!driver

lando manages to convince her to start streaming on twitch with him, leading her to influence others to join her

pairings: max verstappen x fem!driver, lando norris x fem!driver, oscar piastri x fem!driver, logan sargeant x fem!driver

warnings: butt load of stupidity

notes: initially, i was gonna write a fic solely about max because he was talking about fornite the other day... but i thought how funny would it be if it were to be with some of the guys so here i am

(series masterlist) | (📂 the rookie season)

"hello, everyone," she smiles, reaching forward to adjust the camera as she squints her eyes. "is this a good angle? let me know if it's flattering, okay? i can't not look good on twitch."

lando has managed to convince her to join him for a stream on twitch, insisting that she should start an account as well. she initially refused, claiming that she's not that well-liked to start an account and have a loyal following. even adding on the fact that she's not even a good gamer to begin with.

but lando said that it doesn't matter, and proved her wrong by setting up a poll on his previous stream just to get her to make an account. which, the effort was very endearing.

"you always look good," she squints, turning away the right where her other monitor sits. she scrunches her nose and turns to the camera to stare into it. "logan, how did you even know i was streaming tonight?"

she rolls her eyes when his reply rolls in, claiming that he follows her twitter where she announced it. "it's time for you to go out and do something else besides stalking me, logan," she scoffs jokingly with the roll of her eyes.

"okay, so this is my first twitch stream!" she beams, sitting up straighter as she grabs her mouse. "i'm just waiting for lando to finish setting up, so i'm afraid you guys are stuck with me alone for a couple of minutes. let's get to know each other, i might be doing this pretty often this winter break just to have a bit of a hobby.

"i wanna know what you guys want to see from me."

a comment immediately rolls in.

user1: i wanna see you play fortnite with lando and max

she grins sheepishly, dropping her head. "guys, i'm not much of a gamer. never have been so this is actually my first time-ish touching games in a long while. my longest experience was playing roblox with my younger brother when we were younger."

user2: how about oscar or logan playing some games?

she presses her lips together, thinking of ways she could be able to convince her best friends to join her for some online games. when, neither of them has really dabbled much in the hobby. "i'm sure logan will be pretty keen to try, but i'm not so sure about oscar. i'll try to convince him, though he's back in australia for the majority of the break, unfortunately. the timezone difference is absolutely insane."

logansargeant: guys, ask her what her hobbies are

"logan, get off my chat!"

logansargeant: im gonna expose you on twitter for cyberbullying

logansargeant: #endcyberbullying2023

user3: #justice4logan

user4: #justice4logan

user5: u should talk about taylor swift

“oh, my god! i should!” she squeals. “we should host a listen party when she releases reputation! how good was the 1989 vault tracks?”

user6: omg ur so right

user7: iion slaps

user8: slut! is my favourite i think

“1989 had the best vault tracks,” she nods, lips pressed together. “my favourite is ‘now that we don’t talk’ because i like calling my mom.”

blythe.yln: where is lando!!!

“guys, i don’t know. he texted me 5 minutes ago saying he was setting up his pc,” she grins into the camera. “hopefully he’s here soon.”

dalton.yln: i miss oscar

oscahpastry: i miss u too

“you’ve got phones, yeah?” she grins, “use it instead of flooding my chat.”

user1: yeah guys, some of us are trying to get her attention

user9: u guys get that enough

user10: leave some for us pls

user11: yeah y so selfish

she scoffs. "right, guys? can you believe these people?"

the discord sound makes her jump, lando's voice filling up her headphones. "yo, i'm sorry! i was looking for my keyboard."

"where'd you find it, lando?"

"under the bed. apparently, that's where i kept it the last time i streamed," lando laughs. "okay, let's start off with a little horror game? it's called phasmophobia."

"a scary game?" she looks at the camera. "why would i willingly play that?"

"lando, i'm gonna kill you!" she screeches, eyes closing as the creepy sounds from the game boost in her headphones. she peeks through her eye, watching the two hands on her screen before the screen goes foggy.

lando's laughter replaces the eerie sounds of the game, making her roll her eyes. "i told you to hide and close the door!”

“i didn’t know where the stupid door even was!” she screams back, slamming the table. “lando, i don’t wanna play this game anymore!”

“but it’s so fun!”

“lando!”

logansargeant: that was funny

logansargeant: lemme join u some time

user11: omg

user11: half the grid’s gonna be on twitch?

“yeah, i’m so nice, right?” she jokes. “i’m letting them explore different career options. influencer era or something, i believe.”

oscahpastry: i only created an account to annoy her :/

seb.v5: same

user12: no shot thats actually sebastian vettel

maxverstappen1: so we are all just here waiting for an invite from these two???

logansargeant: theyre gatekeeping the stream from us :(

maxverstappen1: i wanna play fortnite

seb.v5: wait i know that game

maxverstappen1: let me join or i’ll report your account

“that’s not very nice, max,” she frowns. she looks away for a second. “lando, max says he’ll report my account if we don’t invite him to play fortnite.”

“oh, let him report you. just make another account, mate!” lando laughs. “ask him to join us phasmophobia! it’s so fun seeing you scream.”

she turns to the camera with a lopsided grin. “chat, tell lando you don’t wanna see me scream in phasmo anymore please. i’m sick of this game, i’ve got no idea what i’m doing, and i haven’t guessed the ghost correctly this entire time.”

logansargeant: keep playing phasmophobia u pussy

oscahpastry: yeah pussy

user5: its v entertaining icl

maxverstappen1: but phasmophobia costs money

“costs money?” she repeats, confusion on her face. “max? do you need financial aid?”

user10: isnt max a millionaire??????

user13: bro is complaining about a game that barely costs anything while getting paid millions a year 💀

oscahpastry: that’s wild ngl

maxverstappen1: wow i just got cyberbullied.

maxverstappen1: i’ll go get it now damn.

she sighs. “guess we’re continuing with this stupid game.”

“lando, where am i going?” max shouts, her character watching max’s go around in circles, flickering the flashlight on and off. “what am i even supposed to do?”

teaching one person how to play a complicated game like phasmophobia is easy. teaching two, however, is absolutely absurd. lando doesn’t know how much more of this he can take.

“lando, there’s something written in the book!” she cheers, crouching her character down. she leans into her monitor as she tries to make out what it says. “bitch, it says run!”

she quickly gets up and walks out. “don’t have to tell me twice.”

“run where?” max shouts, his character still running in circles. “(y/n), where are you? escort me out.”

“guys, just stay inside the house and help me out!” lando whines, his character flickering the flashlight at max’s. “turn around, max. i’m here with you.”

“i’m going to the van.”

“no, you’re not! come here and camp the ghost with us!”

“absolutely not! i’m so scared shitless!”

“we should’ve just played fortnite, you know.”

“guys, please! you just have to hold the equipment for me.”

“oh, my god! oh, my god! the front door is locked!” she screams. “the front door is locked!”

logansargeant: lol dsurv

oscahpastry: not so tough now (y/n)

user8: LMFAO THAT GHOST IS HUNTIN

user14: dude the chaos is insane

user15: i need her to stream everyday actually

user16: she’s gonna be an influencer i can feel it in my bones

user17: u guys should try valorant

oscahpastry: i’d join if they play valorant

user4: omg thats crazy

user18: i kinda want to see it

user19: max playing valorant? the rage that man would feel

“lando, i’m dead again!” she screeches, slamming her mouse down into her desk. “we should’ve just played fortnite.”

logansargeant: ur issues with the door are hilarious

user4: i’ll be thinking about your inability to hide in a room for days

oscahpastry: evidence that u wouldnt survive a horror movie at all

seb.v5: maybe you should stick to sitting there and looking pretty

user20: OMG SEB CALLED HER PRETTYYYYY

user21: are we all so shocked?

user22: yeah, he looks at that girl like she aligns the stars in the sky on a race weekend

user23: him during her podium celebration cured my depression (real)

logansargeant: girl why r u just stalking lando as a ghost

“lando,” she whispers. “i saw the ghost in the corner for the room.”

“what?” max asks, voice trembling slightly. “what corner?”

“that corner.”

“what corner?”

“there. i’m pointing at it.”

“i can’t see you, stupid. you’re dead.”

“then that’s too bad.”

“i figured what type of ghost it is!” lando cheers. “follow me, max. let’s get out of this stupid house and play your stupid fortnite or something.”

“oh, how lovely! i saw (y/n)’s chat… something about valorant,” max mutters, following lando through the dark house. “i’ve seen that on tiktok and it looks kinda- lando, why’d you close the door?”

“i told you i saw the ghost lurking more than usual,” she mutters.

“i don’t even know what that means!” max shouts.

“i didn’t close the door, mate!” lando laughs. “go and hide in a room, max!”

“where? i don’t know where to go!” max screams, frantically running around in hopes of finding solace somewhere.

her character follows behind the entity in the game, clearly running around to find max. “oh, she’s coming for you, max! she’s angry!”

“i don’t know where to go!” max screams, his character running by the entryway in confusion. “lando, where do i go?”

“max, she’s coming! go in the closet!”

“what closet? oh, okay! i see it!”

“close the door, max!”

“what door- oh! okay!”

“did he live?”

“i think so. the ghost is lurking outside max’s door,” she grins into the camera, watching the entity walk back and forth outside the room max is in.

“don’t come out yet.”

“not even a chance, mate.”

“okay, she’s gone,” she sighs. “i’m gonna log out and create an account on fortnite.”

“we’re not gonna play valorant?”

“okay, chat, we’re waiting for oscar to finish the tutorial,” she smiles. “we should be in our first game in a couple of minutes.”

user24: bro ur tutorial was horrendous

user25: i love watching people be bad at valorant

user26: shes so real for that though

user27: she’d play sage for sure

seb.v5: i can’t believe you got oscar to join you

user28: and logan 🤨

user17: outrageous that i’ve been begging the grid to join lando’s streams and here she comes casually getting them to play silly games

user3: real

user28: everyone say thank you (y/n)

blythe.yln: i can’t believe u didnt ask me to join u

blythe.yln: i’m the best at valorant

blythe.yln: i’m better than dalton

user29: YES BLYTHE SPEAK YOUR TRUTH

“so, what do i do again, dalton?” lando asks softly. “what’s the ‘e’ button do?”

“puts up a wall,” the younger kid says. “and then it heals you too, but damages other people. even your teammates.”

“who’s this eminem looking bro?” max asks, giggling slightly. “frank ocean, i saw on tiktok.”

user30: my roman empire is blythe being a pro valorant player but this is the first time her sister is trying the game

“well, i’m sorry for doing other things than playing valorant,” she jokes with a smile. “but, yes, guys! blythe plays valorant for a living which is exactly why we didn’t invite her to play.”

user31: blythe is a pro val player!!?!?!?

user31: since when??

blythe.yln: yeah guys follow my twitch, i’ll treat u better

“i’m going to ban you from my chat if you keep marketing, blythe,” she frowns, though a smile creeping up on her face. “where is dalton?”

blythe.yln: dalton is my valorant spawn… i taught him what he knows

user31: dalton to go pro in a couple years?

user32: omg that’s crazy

user1: the yln’s are gonna take over the valorant scene

user6: blythe getting a redbull gaming clutch would be to die for

“mate, dalton, what’s this girl in the yellow jacket do? she looks stylish,” oscar asks.

“she’s got a turret and grenades,” dalton answers simply.

“alright, how do i get her?”

“you gotta play the game.”

“oh, what? that’s so unfair.”

“yeah, i’m sure that sucks that you’ve got to play the game, oscar,” she says. “where is logan?”

“i’m sorry,” the sigh in logan’s sentence making her laugh. “i got stuck.”

“how?” oscar asks with a laugh. “they literally tell you what to do.”

“i couldn’t find the buttons they were asking me to press,” logan mumbles with a hint of disappointment.

“are you actually intellectually hindered, mate?” she cries with a laugh, covering her eyes. “do you not frequent a laptop?”

“not really, no.”

“it shows,” oscar adds on.

blythe.yln: he’s gonna be shit

user5: so real i can alr see it

user11: dude they’re gonna be screaming at each other soon

“let’s do a quick test game,” dalton mutters as logan’s in-game name pops up on the screen. “just a short game.”

“with real people?” lando asks in a small voice. “that can trash talk me?”

“just trash talk them back, mate,” max answers. “easy.”

“just find their ip address and hit them,” logan suggests. “that’s easier.”

“what?”

“don’t pretend like you wouldn’t do it too, (y/n)!” logan whines. “come on, let’s start!”

“how do i defuse the spike?” max screams, looking at the ground as he runs around. “where even is it?”

“your left,” dalton says. “keep walking.”

blythe is now sat next to her older sister, leg propped up in her seat as she watches the screen.

“okay, okay, go to the right and look right here,” blythe mutters, pointing at the screen. “and then aim right here,” she adjusts her sister’s mouse, “when you see somebody, shoot.”

“that’s not fair. (y/n)’s literally got a pro helping her with the game,” oscar complains.

“you’re dead. literally doesn’t matter if someone’s helping you or not,” logan states. “we suck, man.”

“okay, i figured out how to defuse the bomb,” max says softly. “what now?”

“learn to play better,” blythe says loud enough for the microphone to pick up her voice. “i’ll teach you guys.”

“thank you for tuning into my stream,” she grins with a clap. “i appreciate all of the support and teaching me how to play the games. and roasting me.”

logansargeant: bro we suck

seb.v5: should stick to racing and leave gaming to blythe and dalton

“i read each and every comment you guys sent in the chat and they’re all very endearing. except yours, seb,” she stares into the camera with a stern expression, “yours were just outright unnecessary and kinda mean.”

oscahpastry: start a podcast next

maxverstappen1: i wanna be first guest

user16: please stream regularly!!

user10: make oscar play lethal company or i’ll cry

oscahpastry: stop giving her ideas

user21: when r u streaming again

“i will try to stream in a couple of days, after my shoots and marketing stuff with the team,” she grins. “thank you for watching me scream for 4 hours. catch you guys soon. stay kind and stay safe.”

user2: i’ll miss you 🫶🏼

taglist: @wcnorris @treehouse-mouse @laura-naruto-fan1998 @mindless-rock @inejismywife @vellicora @leilanixx @meadhgbcavanagh @2bormaybenot @ironmaiden1313 @angsthology @cherry-piee @christianpulisic10 @elliegrey2803 @cashtons-wife @love4lando @sadg3 @bborra @a10vely-yutazen @mellowarcadefun

[hispg]

Little bunny

Pairings: R4! Leon X Fem! Reader

Summary: You riled him up. It's totally your fault for using this bunny outfit. Now, bear the consequences.

Wc: 2.5k

Warnings: smut, unprotected sex, p in v, fingering, mirror sex, soft!Dom Leon, pet names, light dirty talk.

An: Hi Hi, sorry for the recent absence, I haven't replied to any asks or comments. And sorry for the absence, don't get me wrong.I have to sort out some things in my personal life, and frankly my mental state isn't the best. From yesterday to today I had two terrible mental breakdowns.I don't like to talk too much about my personal problems here, but I don't think it's fair to ghost everyone. Anyway, I just wanted to say that my next posts will be scheduled,(I'll see if I have any ready works to post, and hopefully I do), and I'll probably be back around February 5th or so. If I feel better I'll come back sooner, but I need some time to breathe.Don't worry, I'll reply to each and every one of you as soon as I get back! I apologize for the inconvenience, but I promise I'll come back better and respond to every kind interaction I've received!

Sorry for the long rant, but I kind of needed it. Thanks for your attention so far💕

"Look at me, love." Leon purred in your ear, watching you through the mirror.

Your legs spread, his fingers buried in your wet pussy, your cream dripping down his fists and onto the floor, making a mess where you sat.

Your lips hanging open as you moaned, your head resting on his shoulder as you couldn't even open your eyes without rolling them.

It was all so dirty, the mirror bearing witness to the scene that was unfolding. You in a bunny outfit, all dolled up for a party, it wasn't your intention to make Leon horny.

But what did you expect? Sending him a photo of you in that bodysuit, your ass reflected in the mirror and you making a naughty face. Of course Leon would come running to see you. How could he not?

You wanted to get his attention, since he hadn't been able to talk to you all day, so you had the brilliant idea of sending him these provocative photos. And indeed, you got his attention, and at the same moment he left all his chores and came running to see you.

Now you had to deal with him.

"All that for me, love?" Leon purred in your ear, using his thumb to massage your clit.

You hung your head again, letting the hoarse whimpers escape your throat every time he sank his fingers into you, hitting those weak spots that made you soft in his arms.

His mouth found its way to your neck, sucking and licking at the area, his teeth rubbing against your flesh lightly. His little smile only widened when he felt you tighten around his fingers, you were almost there once again.

You felt that familiar feeling forming in the pit of your stomach, your mind getting messy and unfocused, you just had attention at that moment.

Leon also sensed that you were close, watching your expression through the mirror. It was so exciting that he could stare for hours.

Your wet cunt welcoming his fingers so well, so slippery and warm that he could spend all day fingering you, without a break.

"So beautiful, look at you," Leon says, holding your jaw and making you look in the mirror.

Your face flushed, your cheeks as red as an apple, your glassy eyes that begged for his touches. Leon made a point of fucking you while you were still in that bunny costume you were wearing, just to see how hot and beautiful you looked.

"You only did that for a good fuck, didn't you? You wanted to get my attention, didn't you?" Leon whispers sensuously, using his thumb to tug at your clit viciously.

The way he spoke to you was enough to make you roll your eyes, your pussy clenching painfully tight around his fingers, you could bet that this time you wouldn't hold back.

"N-no, that wasn't it…" You moaned, rolling your eyes once more, feeling his fingers touching that weak spot of yours.

You heard Leon's chuckle, and he once again lifted your face, making you stare into the mirror once more.

"Open your eyes, princess. You look so beautiful when you come." Leon said softly, admiring your reactions.

And that was enough to get you there, you just felt your white cream being oozed out of your body, your eyes rolling back as you held onto his forearms tightly.

It was so dirty, the way you whimpered so slyly, his name sliding out of your mouth as you came. Leon kept holding your face, making you see the mess you'd made of yourself.

Through the mirror you could see him staring at you with those blue eyes, the corners of his curved into a naughty smile as he watched your fluids dripping from you.

And there he went, making you come for the thousandth time that night.And when he kept fingering you even after orgasm, you couldn't help yourself and started whimpering even more.

"Leon, stop, it's too much!" You whispered, pouting as you tried to win his pity.

But no, it wouldn't work this time.

"No, I'm sure you can take it." He says, slapping your clit, watching your every reaction.

You whimpered, keeping your pout while he played with your body. By this time Leon's cock was throbbing, aching as it was trapped in his pants, even he could feel his pre-cum soaking through his underwear.

But even though you were struggling to take it one more time, you cried out when he stopped stroking you, when you felt the emptiness he left when he took his fingers out of you.

He had better plans for you now, he wanted to watch a bit at that moment. He then sat down on his knees, leaning back as he saw your legs spread in that dirty way.

"Touch yourself." He demands, his voice low and husky, causing a chill to run down your spine.

You widened your eyes at his demand, biting your lip as you saw him undo his belt, push his pants down and pull it all out at once, his cock jutting out at the same moment.

Pinky tip, flushed, and swollen. The clear and perfect sign of the effect you had on him. Leon wasted no time in wrapping his hand around his dick, grunting as he lazily stroked his length.

You then began to do as he asked, keeping your legs open while you delicately placed your index finger on your clit, making small circles on the sensitive part.

"Keep going." Leon says, biting his lip as he watched you, he began to jerk off with more speed, keeping his gaze on you.

"But… I'd rather it was you." You say, looking at him with sly little eyes.

"If you do what I ask, I can give you what you want all night long." He says, fisting himself as he watches you rub your fingers over your clit.

So wet, soaking wet just thinking about the possibility of him fucking you, even if only with his fingers.

He noticed every detail, your hips rocking as you touched yourself and searched for more friction, right up to the point where you put a finger inside yourself, arching your back and moaning softly.

In one swift movement he moved behind you once more, wrapping one of his arms around your waist while pressing his chest against your back. And in the same instant you felt his size in your folds, his cock rubbing against you, making you both moan at the same time.

He forced you down, making his cock move back and forth in your pussy lips, making you squirm and try to get away from him.

Your movements on your clit stopped, and he growled in protest at your interrupted act. You felt his fingers sinking into your hips, just as he began to fuck you while maintaining total control.

"Keep going." He murmured, in an authoritative yet heated voice.

You obeyed, pressing your finger back into your clit, moaning even louder as you began to feel his balls slapping against you, he moved back and forth, his length grinding against your folds as he held you tight.

And you couldn't contain the moan you let out when you saw the trail of pre-cum running down his cock, making you salivate even more.

At that point you didn't know who was making more of a mess, you or him. Not least because even he couldn't hold back his grunts when he heard the wet, lubricated sounds that filled both your ears, along with your moans and grunts that mixed and became one.

"I'm close—" You moan, biting your lip as you look at Leon.

The image was what you needed to feel your cunt clenching around nothing, your body heating up as you felt your orgasm building more and more.

Leon fucking you from behind, his nails digging into your hips, to the point of leaving marks the next day. His cock emerging and plunging from your folds, your pussy lips becoming swollen from the repetitive movement that was driving you crazy.

You then began to move along with him, your hips moving back and forth, you couldn't hold back the sound that came from your lips every time you felt his balls slap against you. Heavy and full, slamming so hard against you that you could feel your skin heating up and burning with every thrust.

When you started rubbing your clit more fervently, he noticed, and soon grunted in your ear in a bossy voice:

"Pull out." He says, looking down at your fingers that were massaging your sensitive buddy.

Maybe it was just a way of being mean to you, to hold off your orgasm for as many times as he wanted.

"But… I'm so close!" You whimper, looking at him with the sly little eyes you were an expert at making.

"What a shame." He purrs, taking your arms and stopping you from continuing what you were doing.

He then took both your arms, holding them behind you, his hand firmly wrapped around your wrist while the other went back to holding tightly onto your hip.

Leon couldn't help himself and smiled when he saw the mess you'd made of his cock, to the point where there was an absurd amount of the creams oozing out of you.

So dirty, doing all this fussing while he was just teasing you, what a dirty little girl, but that's what you wanted, wasn't it?

"Mh, didn't you want my attention?" He purred once more, holding you tightly as he moved back and forth, rubbing his cock against you once again.

You could feel his warm breath on your neck, his lips lightly touching your skin, and he made a point of giving you little bites, leaving his mark.

"My pretty little bunny, making a mess on my cock." He whispered, in a sensual and provocative way, almost making you feel ashamed of what you were doing.

But it wasn't that, he was proud. Why was that? Because he knew that he was the only one who could leave you like this, and that you were all his, made just for him.

The way he spoke to you made you whimper, humping against him like a bitch in heat, sweat sticking to your forehead as you looked at him through the mirror.

His blue eyes never stopped looking at you, the way you were soaking wet, that bunny outfit that suited you so well. Or whether it was the way your breasts swayed as he grabbed you from behind, grinning shamelessly as he watched you.

And you heard his laugh as you rolled your eyes, letting a sly noise come out of your mouth in a high-pitched way. You were coming.

His hand that had been on your hip went up to your chin, and he made you look at yourself as you came once more.

"Look, bunny, how hot you are. Look at the mess." He says, forcing you to watch your fluids running down his cock, making a new mess.

Just as you saw more pre-cum coming out of him, he was so turned on watching you that he could cum just like that.

White cream dripping off him, making his cock wet and sticky, you did it the way he liked it. The way you were able to do everything the way he wanted, including not holding back while you came, was just one more success on your part.

But now came the part he was most interested in, he was going to fuck you like he loved. Just the sight of the whimpering mess you'd become was exciting, you couldn't speak more than two sentences, you couldn't do anything but moan. It was all down to him.

"You wanted some attention, didn't you?" Leon asked, putting his hand on your back and making you lie on the floor.

Your chest pressed against the cold floor, your nipples hardening even more from the contact. He was still holding your arms, keeping them pinned behind you.

You just stared at him with a pout, moaning as you watched him play with you, lightly smacking your wet pussy, eventually lightly slapping your ass. He just wanted to tease you.

"Please?" You pleaded, arching your hips towards him, only to receive a harder slap.

"That's what you want, isn't it?" Leon purrs, positioning his tip at your entrance, and taking the opportunity to rub his tip against your clit.

He knew he'd have to stop himself from cumming too quickly, because just seeing you in this position was enough for any of his fantasies, it was what he needed to see to go over the edge.

"So be it, I'm going to fuck you exactly the way you want, bunny." He says, a wicked smile on his lips.

And then without you expecting it, he thrust into you all at once, and you felt the delicious stretch he gave you every time. Your pussy stretching to accommodate him with such mastery.

You just moaned, you were incapable of doing anything else, completely drunk on his dick.

You only had time to close your eyes tightly before he started hammering into you, without the slightest pity, just fucking you hard and deep just the way you liked it.

His grip on your hips was strong, and he handled you as if you were a doll that weighed nothing, thrusting into you as he pulled you back onto his cock. Your bodies slammed together abruptly, making that filthy sound echo throughout the room.

Leon was all sweaty, his muscles flexing with every movement, and you could watch him fucking you from behind as you watched the scene in the mirror.

While Leon had the perfect view of his cock sinking into you, your warm walls engulfing him in a unique way, making him grunt at how tight you were, and how hard you could take him. Your juices leaving a white ring at the base of his cock, honeying all over him, acting as if he was the only cock for you.

It was too much for Leon, watching you moaning like that, whimpering desperately as he fucked you. His response was to pick up the pace, his balls slapping against you as his tip reached points so deep you couldn't even imagine.

It was all so fast, you didn't even have time to think as your orgasm washed over you, your walls squeezing him hard as you wet his cock even more. Your voice loud and sly, your nails gripping the carpet hard.

And that's what he needed, the last little push, the image of you cumming on his cock in such an obscene way was enough for him to grunt loudly and pump his seed into you, withdrawing his cock and sinking back in with a deep thrust, making sure to finish inside.

For a while, the only sound you could hear was your breathing, shallow and heavy, as you tried to catch your breath.

But then you caught Leon looking at you, the bunny ears that were on your head falling slightly below your face, that bodysuit that drew out your every curve.

He squeezed your hips, looking you up and down. Oh no, he wasn't finished with his bunny.

You wanted attention, and he was going to give it to you all night long.

[cutieln4]

Matchmaker | LN4

lando norris x fem!reader, background lestappen

summary: you try getting involved in max and charles' love lives, and it turns out they're also trying to get involved in yours

At the age of 21 years old, you joined McLaren after becoming a champion in all the junior categories. This made you the first woman in modern F1, and the first woman in several decades. And if people thought that Lando had a lot of energy, they had not met you yet.

Now that your rookie season was halfway done with, you've learned two important things. 1) Lando was very easy to get along with and 2) Max and Charles were certainly in love. 

There were a couple times when you had been on the podium with them, and of course you loved being on the podium, but having to third wheel that pair would drive anyone insane. 

So, when you got back from the summer break, you decided to make it your mission to get them together. Step 1 was telling Lando about your plans.

"Landooo!" you called out as you saw him walking in the paddock up ahead, running to catch up with him. 

"Hey, Y/n/n," he greeted you with a handshake. 

"I have a plan," you said devilishly. 

"Shit, that can never be good."

"Hey! Hear me out. So, Charles and Max, you know?"

"Who? I've never heard of those people in my life," he said sarcastically. 

"Ooookay, I could do without the attitude, thanks. Anyways, I'm sure you've noticed how in love with each other they are. Like hello? They literally scream 'enemies to lovers' trope. You know what I mean? I just need to find a way to get them to confess their undying love for each other." 

Lando's eyes widened and he looked around, making sure that no one was listening before pulling you to the side.

"Oh—jeez, so, you in?"

"The entire grid has been trying to get them together for years, you think that you'll be able to do it?"

"Yeah, obviously, but I'll need a sidekick that's why I'm telling you, so...?" 

He sighed. "Alright, tell me your ideas."

"Yes!"

"But I'm not your sidekick, we're partners in crime, okay?"

"Sure, sure. Anyways, step 1 of 'el plan' is to just subtly start mentioning Max or Charles when in conversation with the other. Get them in each others brains, you know? Like 'Oh Max was saying how he hopes for rain.'

Then, step 2, we start mentioning things that they've said about each other. 'Hey Max, Charles was saying how he always loves his on track battles with you the most,' stuff like that. Then we have to start interrogating them about their love life so they can hopefully admit their feelings. That's all I got so far."

Lando nodded, deep in thought. "Okay, this could work, this could work."

~~~~~~~~~~

Charles won in Monza, with Max and yourself completing the podium. While you were getting your interview done, the two of them seemed to be locked in their "debrief".

"Am I the only one who's noticed all the chemistry between her and Lando?" Max asked.

"You're definitely not the only one, mate. Being in a press conference with those two is unbearable."

"Ugh, yes, like just kiss already. I'm glad I'm not going crazy. We need to do something about it, get them to confess their feelings."

"I agree," Charles replied, staring into Max's eyes. 

~~~~~~~~~~

Later, they were in the press conference room, waiting for it to start, and Max and Charles were chatting away.

Y/n: MATE

Y/n: HELP

Y/n: I CAN'T TAKE THIS THIRD WHEELING

Landhoe: you can't complain you got a podium

Y/n: i actually can complain, i've suffered too much

Landhoe: you like seeing them together, don't lie. 

You grinned at that, then glanced up from your phone to see Max and Charles looking at you. 

"Who you texting?" Max asked.

"Just Lando," you shrugged, confused as Charles and Max gave each other a look.

"You guys seem to be getting along well, no?" Charles asked. 

"Uh yeah, I guess. It helps that we're both pretty similar."

"Yes, yes, very similar," Max nodded, and you raised your eyebrow, side-eyeing them. 

"Anyway, you guys have anyone special in your life, yet?" you asked.

The smirk on Max's face faltered as he glanced at Charles for a millisecond before looking back to her. 

"No, not yet, mate."

"Me neither," Charles added. 

You hummed. "Hm, okay."

~~~~~~~~~~

In Suzuka, Lando and you were talking while walking towards the driver's parade. 

"So I'm going to talk to Charles and you're going to talk to Max, sounds good?"

"Yup, I know the plan," Lando confirmed. 

"Great, we'll debrief after the race."

You spotted Charles and quickly ran up next to him before someone else could start a conversation with him. 

"Hey, Charlie! Congrats on your podium in Singapore!"

"Thanks, mate."

"Man, it's crazy how fast the season flew by, it seems like just yesterday I was a scared little rookie rolling up in Bahrain. Anyway, I was hoping to get your advice on something," you said, trying not to bring up the topic too suddenly. 

"Yeah, of course, go ahead."

"Okay, well, let's say hypothetically in a situation where you like someone, but you're not sure if they like you back, and you don't want to say anything because it could ruin your friendship and it would be awkward because you have to see them for the majority of the year, what would you do?" you asked, trying to gauge his feelings about potentially confessing his feelings. 

Charles glanced somewhere behind you, and you didn't want to look but you would've bet a million bucks that it was at Max.

"Well, if you're feeling like that person even just maybe likes you back, I say go for it. You wouldn't want to waste precious time that you could be spending together because you were too scared."

"So you're saying that if you like someone, you should just go for it?" you confirmed. 

"Yeah."

"Interesting..." you rubbed your chin, then turned to look at Max behind you. 

Meanwhile, Lando and Max were deep in conversation. 

"What would you think if two of the drivers started dating? Cause some of these people have some real chemistry," Lando asked, trying to seem nonchalant. 

Max shrugged. "I mean, yeah, some of us have known each other since our childhoods. I wouldn't be surprised if some crushes have developed. It's not my business, but I don't mind. It would be interesting, though."

"What about Charles and Pierre?" Lando egged on, waiting for a reaction. 

He watched in satisfaction as Max's eyes turned a shade darker and his jaw clenched. "Nah, I don't see it. But you and Y/n seem to be getting awfully close."

Lando couldn't help the blush that painted his cheeks. He tried to say something but was at a loss for words, mouth gaping like a fish. Max started snickering.

"We're just friends," he finally stuttered out.

"Alright, if you say so."

Lando sighed, turning away in disappointment. That did not go according to plan. 

~~~~~~~~~~

Max won the race, and because the McLaren was good in the high speed corners, Lando finished 2nd and yourself 3rd. 

You and Lando hugged as soon as you got out of your cars.

"Wohoooo! Let's go!" you cheered as you both ran to the fence of McLaren workers. 

You got done with the interview and was the first one in the cooldown room. You had put your helmet down on the platform and was drinking your water. You heard the others entering and turned around, bumping into Lando. 

"Oh, shit!" you exclaimed as you dropped your water bottle. 

You both bent down to grab it, causing your hands to touch and both of you to pause. Lando then grabbed you bottle and you both stood up, staring into each others' eyes for a couple seconds before you snapped out of it and moved to grab your water bottle. 

"Thanks," you said quietly. 

Lando was still looking at you, before quickly saying, "You're welcome."

You noticed Max watching you and the camera on you, so you cleared your throat and moved around Lando to sit on one of the chairs. 

"That was a good overtake, in the beginning," you commented to Max, trying to diffuse the awkwardness. 

Before the conference, Max was quick to get on his phone.

Max: Holy shit, I have so much to tell you about Lando and Y/n

Max: You should come to my hotel room tonight

Max: I think we're in the same hotel

Charles: I have stuff to tell you too. What time?

Max: Does after dinner, 9:00 work? 

Charles: That's perfect

Max: Great, my room is 1633

Charles: See you then ;)

And for some reason Max felt like a giddy schoolgirl at the thought of Charles coming to his hotel room.

You and Lando kept stealing glances at each other whenever the other wasn't looking, and it was so frustrating.

Later, when it was just around 9:00, Max waited (im)patiently for Charles to knock on his door, and he jumped when he finally heard the noise, getting up to let him in. Charles walked in nervously. 

"We can sit on the couch," Max commented, and Charles quickly situated himself on one end, and Max on the other. 

"Ok, you go first," Max urged. 

"Well Y/n came up to me during the driver's parade and she was talking about 'hypothetically' liking something but not doing anything about it because it could ruin their friendship. So of course I told her she should just go for it, and then she looked at Lando."

"Oh my God. Lando came up to me during the driver's parade and asked what I would think if two drivers started dating each other, and I said something about how close him and Y/n were, and he blushed. And then in the cool down room, they bumped into each other which made Y/n drop her water bottle, and when they both reached down to pick it up they touched hands. Then they just stared at each other for like 5 fucking seconds."

"Jesus, what is going on with them."

"I know right, like holy fuck just make out already! I'm sick of their pining."

Max shifted on the couch, causing his foot to touch Charles' leg. 

"Anyway, want to watch a movie?" Max asked, and Charles nodded eagerly. 

And that's how they ended up in the pitch dark, a bowl of microwaved popcorn in between them, some racing movie on the television. 

They both reached for the popcorn at the same time, causing their hands to touch, and both of them snapped their heads to look at each other. 

They stared at each other, eyes flickering down to each other's lips...until the sound of Max's phone ringing caused them both to jump apart. 

"Jesus!" Max exclaimed, quickly silencing his phone, and they reluctantly turned back to the movie, moment ruined. 

~~~~~~~~~~

A couple weeks passed until they were in Qatar. Max and Charles hadn't spoken to each other, and there was minimal communication between you and Lando. 

Max would be starting the race on pole, then Lando, you, and Charles. 

As the race went on, it seemed like that would be the finishing order, until halfway through Max started having braking issues. Lando caught up, overtaking Max for the lead, and you did the same a few laps later. 

The rest of the race, Max had adapted to the issue but still had slow pace because of it, which left him defending against Charles. 

The race ended in that order, Lando taking his first win.

"YEAHHH!!! LET'S FUCKING GO BABY! WOOHOOOOOO!!!" Lando cheered. 

They parked up in front of the podium boards. Lando opened his visor, got out of his car and stood on it, holding up his pointer finger and pumped his fist in celebration, fireworks going off in the background in the dark sky. 

You quickly got out of your car and removed your helmet, going straight to Lando. 

"You did it! You fucking did it! I'm so proud of you!" you told him as you pulled him in for a hug. 

He stared at you for a second when you let go, then immediately removed his helmet, putting a hand on your waist, pulling you closer and connecting your lips together. 

You were stunned for a second, before placing your hand on his cheek and deepening the kiss. Everything around you guys went still, like only the two of you existed. You eventually pulled away and could hear the booming of fireworks, the cheers from the crowd, and the whistles from the McLaren team a few feet away. You both blushed as you came to your senses. 

"I really fucking like you," Lando breathed out, slightly winded from the kiss. 

"I would hope so, after that," you teased, before pulling him in for another kiss. 

Max stood by his team, watching the pair from a far, his jaw dropped. 

"Fucking finally," Max sighed. 

But then he glanced behind him and spotted Charles walking to the FIA garage to get weighed, and an irresistible urge overcame him.

He followed Charles into the garage and grabbed his arm, dragging him behind one of the curtains.

"Did you see that! They finally—"

Charles was cut off as Max crashed their lips together.

"I think I've been wanting to do that for a long time," Max admitted when they pulled away. 

"I've been wanting to do that since I pushed you off the track in karting," Charles smiled, and Max smiled back, kissing him again.

—••—••—••—••—••—••—••—••—••—

a/n: i never intended to publish this anywhere but here i am. i literally never write written romance like this so this is really cringe and i cringed while writing it but enjoy ig. if you have any suggestions though please tell me!!

[honeydazai]

୨୧·࣭࣪̇˖ 𝆬  pregnancy headcanons𝆬 𓏸

feat.: Dazai, Chūya, Fukuzawa, Fyodor, Poe, Nikolai, Sigma, Jōno, Fukuchi

content: f!reader, pregnancy and related symptoms, soft....

If you truly believe that DAZAI is anything but awfully flirty during your pregnancy, you're wrong. He constantly mentions just how gorgeous and breathtaking — or, in certain situations, outright hot — you look, making sure that you never have any reason at all to feel insecure about yourself, even if you gain quite a lot of weight. Like he cares; he's fond of all women, after all, but especially you, and, in his eyes, it's impossible for you to be anything but beautiful.

That also means, though, that he won't keep his hands off you, constantly fondling your now larger chest, your hips and stomach and everywhere he can reach, really. Deep down, he doubts he'll make for a good father, though he's determined to try his best for the sake of your small family. This includes shedding his usual lazy attitude and helping you with household chores, as well as laying off the alcohol, hopefully.

“You're terrible, bella. Honestly awful — how am I supposed to get any of those papers done when you're next to me, looking this irresistible? It's like you're trying to set me up for failure. Ah—, but I'm sure Kunikida will understand if I take a small break, hm? Get over here, darling.”

CHŪYA suddenly spoils you even more than he did before the announcement of your pregnancy, though, really, he's just awfully overjoyed. The thought of actually getting a child with you, a true family, still seems surreal to him, like a situation out of a dream rather than something that can happen in reality and, for a moment, he wonders whether he's deserving of something this wonderful. Unfortunately, he's rather busy, but, naturally, he makes as much time to be with you as somehow possible, rolling his eyes at Mori whenever another oh so “urgent mission” comes up.

To make up for him occasionally not being home, you get Kōyō, as well as Higuchi, Gin, Hirotsu and Tachihara who make sure to constantly keep an eye on you. Even if you're simply going out to get some ice cream, one of them accompanies you — and, luckily, they make for surprisingly great friends. While Chūya's life style, being a dangerous ability user who works for the Port Mafia, isn't the safest, he's fairly content that he'll be able to protect you and your child from any harm whatsoever — he'd give his life for yours, after all.

“Hm? I'm not mad. I just—, not at you, at least. I wanted to take ya out on a proper nice date tomorrow, made a reservation and everything, though the Boss just assigned me some apparently important mission. Yeah, I know. Sorry, sweetheart. I'll make it up to you, yeah? Ah, it's already paid for, though. You can take Kōyō or Gin, if you like. They should be free tomorrow. Sorry. I love you.”

FUKUZAWA never felt for anyone as strongly before as he now does for you, meaning he never imagined himself to eventually grow old surrounded by a loving family, with a partner and a child, even. It sounds too perfect to be true, not like a situation that'd fit into his current life, and yet he finds himself overjoyed after overcoming the initial disbelief, his smile dripping with love, with affection as he gently meets your lips in a kiss, arms immediately curling around your body to hug you close.

During the pregnancy, he's all the more protective of you, unwilling to ever leave your side. If things went his way, you'd accompany him to the Agency's office in the morning and would leave in the evening together with him, though he admits that he sees why that might be a tad boring. He simply aches to keep an eye on you, worried about what might happen to you when he's not around, though several Agency members assure him that they, too, will keep an eye on you.

“I'm afraid I can't accompany you today, dear. I'm sorry. An urgent meeting came up, but I'm sure Kunikida or Yosano would join you. Alright? We'll go there together next time. Just— be safe, yes? I trust you're in good hands. Still, don't hesitate to call me if anything happens.”

You best believe that FYODOR has made sure to inform himself as much as humanly possible about pregnancies the moment you announced that the multiple tests you did are positive. While he's the slightest bit strict when it comes to topics such as what you should and shouldn't consume, as well as anything else related to the yours and baby's health, he naturally makes sure to completely indulge most of your cravings, too — when you're the one to bring new life into this world, who is he to forbid you from having another pastry or a second bowl of ice cream?

He's so very gentle in everything he does, carefully caressing your stomach before cupping your cheek and pressing a soft kiss to your lips, his smile warm, like he can't believe his hands, tainted ones, are allowed to hold something this pure, this holy. It's safe to say that you've always had multiple security guards hovering around you to ensure your safety, though, now, Ivan makes sure to tend to your every need, too, often bringing you the meal you're aching for or even trying out silly yoga techniques for relaxation with you.

“Ah, now—, careful, dear. Allow me to get that for you instead — you should call for Ivan when I am not around. You mustn't overexert yourself. I would hate for you to hurt yourself. Simply sit back and relax, will you? .. Please, for the sake of us, of our family. It won't matter in the long run whether you or someone else got a snack for you, but it will matter if you climb atop a shelf, fall and hurt yourself gravely. Yes?”

POE honestly does not quite believe his ears when you first mention you're pregnant. When you end up showing him the positive test, however, his smile is blinding, the most sincere one he's had in what feels like ages. He, unfortunately, is the type to worry; while he's still more than delighted, he's almost tempted to create a pocket dimension in a book for you where you'd be safe and cared for, though he has to stop himself from doing just that. It'd be a little overbearing.

Given how he's more than wealthy, you don't have to worry about anything at all. Whatever you crave, it's yours immediately — as fast as premium online shipping works, that is —, whether it's new clothing to accommodate your changing body, furniture for the child's room, certain snacks only available in a foreign country; anything, really. He also makes sure to constantly check in on how you're feeling, asking multiple times every few hours and, when he's not home for whatever reason, he leaves you a surprisingly large amount of text messages, telling you to call him immediately if anything feels.. odd.

“Are you experiencing anything like cramps? Nausea, perhaps? No? That's a relief. Ah, I just—, that's merely what it said on the Internet, symptoms that could happen. I'm relieved if you truly are alright for now.”

Usually, NIKOLAI is a force to be dealt with. He's unpredictable, mood changing quickly, his smirk wide and his eyes sharp, though, once you tell him you're pregnant, he's surprisingly gentle in the way his hands move to rest on your stomach, his revealed eye sparkling with joy as he coos at the barely visible bump as if the baby is able to hear him. He keeps carefully running for once bare hands over the stretched skin, telling the child stories and that you're both excited to meet it; anything that comes to mind, really.

If you get odd food cravings during the pregnancy, he's not afraid to supply you with whatever you want, as well as to try them out with you. Perhaps ice cream with hot sauce and pickles will be a new family dessert; he's anything but scared of new possibilities.

“Ah, what are you having, doll? Allow me to try, please? Hm? I'm not stealing from you; now, now, don't be mean—, alright, alright. I admit defeat. At least let me say hi to our sweetheart then, yes?”

The moment SIGMA learns that you're expecting a child, his child, he's ecstatic. He'll make sure you have everything you might want or need, ranging from all kinds of different snacks you could possibly crave to a personal masseuse if you're feeling sore. The more your bump starts to show, the more often he can't help but rest his hands on your stomach, gently caressing, or even pressing soft kisses to it. There's nothing that gets to him more than the idea of having a family with you.

Despite his initial joy, he's another one who's prone to worrying and overthinking, his warm smile making way for a deep frown when he knows you're not looking. He borders on overprotective with how much he keeps an eye on you, even more so than usual, given how, now, he has two loved ones to protect, not just one anymore and, oh, he's admittedly stressed, constantly thinking that something might happen to you, to the baby.

“How are you feeling, love? Is everything alright? Promise you'll tell me if you feel anything odd, yes? I'm not worried. I just don't wish for anything to happen to you or the baby. Alright, I'm admittedly the slightest bit worried, but I really can't help it. I love you, after all.”

JŌNO honestly never expected to ever have a child of his own in the first place, meaning that the knowledge of you being pregnant is something he needs to process for a bit first. Nonetheless, he's happy, of course. How could he not be? It's an odd thought, one he'll have to get used to first, but, in general, it's a pleasant one. Naturally, his job comes with some dangers for you and your future

He's protective by nature, having found pleasure in saving people rather than torturing them, and you're no exception. Seeing you smile, knowing that you feel safe with him is the best feeling he could ever ask for, though his desire to protect you from all harm quickly gets overwhelming. It's less harm from outsiders he fears — he deals quickly and efficiently with criminals, thank you very much —, but more you harming yourself, perhaps by tripping and falling when he's not around, resulting in him preferring to take every little task out of your hands. Oh, well.

“My, my, stay seated, dear. I'll handle this. Hm? I'm not treating you like you're fragile. I know you're not sick, merely pregnant; you mention it often enough. Still, is it so wrong for me to care for you? Yes, that's what I thought.”

FUKUCHI is a busy man. Really, being a war hero and the Hunting Dogs Captain — as well as Kamui, but perhaps that's not something for you to know about —, you'd expect him to be busy with work even while you're pregnant with his child, though that's far from reality. Instead of prioritising work and his reputation, he makes sure to come to every doctor's appointment with you, constantly by your side, and spends as much time as possible at home with you, one hand of his ever so often resting on your stomach, even when the bump is barely visible.

He claims he's able to feel the child's heartbeat already — whether that's true does not seem to matter, not when he's busy peppering your skin in kisses, smile never leaving his face as he wonders aloud whether it'll be a girl or a boy, what their name should be and if their eventual first word will be “mum” or “dad”; his bet is on “mum”, by the way, even though he pretends to be heartbroken by the idea, all too dramatic.

“You look surprised to see that it's me picking you up rather than some chauffeur, sweet thing. Why's that, I wonder? I already told you I'll accompany you to every doctor's appointment you have. The rest of the Hunting Dogs can cover me for one evening. I wouldn't miss this for the world.”

a part of this was a commission! thank you so much again! 💜 Also the idea of Ivan doing yoga with you had me giggling..

tags: @irethepotato @beandaifuku , @the-foreigner , @ranpobb, @arixsux, @dei-lilxc , @atsyushi @satoruislove @pastelsbaby @marina-and-the-memes @texchou @shiggysredhead @savagemickey03 @rosepxtlz @nikolaiswife @okura-s @ladykatakuri @lunerenzo @berywritesstuff @alice0blog @xelia25 @yuuotosaka3 @double-black-dazai @fyodorstolenushanka @ttaiyaki @itsnovariella @black-rose-29 @fyodorscumsock @ayshaashaya @qxxstuff @serenareiss @atsvsh1 @dilucshandholder @reiikonee @1-800-mocha

@xvocadooo @hexiisexii @cupxfcxffee @jodidann @Happymoon16 @yumidepain @nchuuyahq @janeinerz @Aaronthegreatestsimp @fanfiction-waifu @KimxKiba @Morigumy @villainouspotential @ashthemadwriter @mrsdostoevsky @nikolaisgoofyahhhat @yeonwoomyheartbelongstoyou @hellgirlwhore @c4xcocoa @lyrstybsd @angelsrunes @wuaoqu @disa-ster @aspookyscaryghost @nikolaisboner @urgodmoon @polish-anon @arisu-chan4646 @eroscastle @somnobun @birbysaur @Senpaible @hyunlixie143 @dababyurmom @4nthonyyliving @Chxrry-doll

[therealplaguedoctor]

Love at first bite

Max Verstappen x fem!reader

Summary- Y/n is a professional protection dog trainer, and an ex bodyguard. What happens when an old friend of hers calls in a favor: getting his friend some protection. The fans seem to love her, others not so much. Especially not her clients father. Her client enjoys her company maybe a little more then he thought after the first bite.

TLDR- a collection of series of events that ends with two people who didn't really know they were in love with each other until one confessed

Warnings- dogs and dog bites, mentions of aggressive fans, cursing, google translated dutch, Jos Verstappen, stupid warnings: author is a dumbass and pretends she knows shit(she doesnt), American spelling, I never spell check, also y/n is very badass and is kinds just built different, sorry I like writing badass characters/people, also this might be a bit ooc I'm sorry for that :/

A/n- AHHH okay so I kinda hate (hate as in thinking I could do better) and love this(?) I wish it was better written ngl but it is a oneshot so I wasn't able to go into more detail so I feel like the writing is a bit rushed sorry about that I promise I will get better in the future :,)

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BREAKING NEWS: Fomula one driver Mav Verstappen got injured after crazy drunk fan attacked him.

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BREAKING NEWS: Max Verstappen revealed that he is looking into more security in an interview

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"We're sure you've seen the questions around what happened immediately after qualifying. Can you add anything to that situation? Like with your current security?"

Max picked up the mic wanting to be anywhere but here "well I will be looking for personal security. As all the security that is normally seen around me is provided via the FIA." He said "But to speak on that manner any behavior like that should not be tolerated" he put down the mic as the interview turned to ask Lewis a question.

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After the interviews were over Max just wanted to relax and forget about the crazed fan. But before he could disappear into redbull hospitality he heard his name from a familiar voice.

"Max!" Lewis called stopping in front of him "Hey mate I think I know someone that I can call to help you with your security" he smiled

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"Stellen" (bite) you yelled at Goose, which sent him barreling towards the man with the bite sleeve. Goose launched himself up and bit down on the sleeve. The man, Tony, aggressive, shook his arm.

You felt you phone in your pocket buzz with your familiar ring tone. You pulled it out and looked at the caller ID: Sir Lewis Hamilton. You answered the call before yelling "Loslaten" (out) to Goose who immediately let go of his arm.

"Hey Lewis what's up?" You asked as you waved off Tony telling him he's good to leave.

"Hey Y/n" he said dragging out your name a little

"Lewis" you said in a warning tone "what did you do?"

"Okay one rude, I didn't do anything." He huffed "but I do need a favor?" He asked

"What's up?" You asked again "it's not like you to ask for favors"

"Well: my friend, another driver, he had a fan attack him and he needs protection cause he doesn't really have a security team"

"Lewis I can't get him a trained dog in a day" you sighed

"I know" he said "but you're still a certified body guard aren't you?" He asked hopefully

"Lewis." You said

"I know it's a big ask" he said "but I was talking with him earlier and he's willing to pay big bucks for you to be protection for him AND train him a dog." He said

You sighed knowing that he'll continue until you say yes "fine" you said "when can I set up a meeting with him?"

"Uhh I can say next week tuesday? We can do whatever time" He said "cause after this race we have a small break then it's actually race week in Miami"

"Okay Lewis, I'll find a dog for him before then, and start training" you said "if you say he's serious about this then I'll belive you"

"Thank you so much" Lewis said "I'll let him know"

"Yeah yeah, bye Lewis"

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You sat in your small office. You didn't use it much only for meeting with clients about protection dogs or getting their dogs trained, you wanted to have a atleast semi professional space due to your clientele.

A knock at the door cause you it sit up and stop spinning in your chair.

"Come in" you called.

The door slowly opened revealing a happy Lewis. Goose didn't move from his bed next to you instead looking up at the man.

"Hey Lewis" you smiled

"What's up?" He asked rhetorically as he sat in one of the chairs across from you.

Another man walked in behind him, he looked around the room as if taking it in, this must be Max the guy Lewis was telling you about.

"Hello its nice to meet you" you smiled as you stood up and extended you hand "my name is Y/n L/n"

He shook your hand "Max Verstappen" he said before sitting down

You did the same sitting in your chair "so I have been made aware that you're looking for a personal protection dog" you said "along with the fact in the mean time you're looking to hire my bodyguard services" you said as you pull up the contract you had drafted earlier on the computer.

"Uh yes that's right" the Dutch man said

"Okay" you said as you quickly checked over the document spinning your screen around so he can read it-

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After discussing the contract along with pay you both sign it. Solidifying the deal.

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"Okay so now that we have that settled" you said as you stood up "we should have you meet your new dog" you smiled "Hier" (come) Goose got up and followed you out if the room the two men behind him.

You took out the keys and unlocked the kennel for a German shepherd pup "he's still a bit young, just under a year actually" you said "but he has the basics down so it's now just bite training" you explained

Both men nodded as they watched the pup and your dog Goose interact.

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Media day, the day Max wished didn't exist. He finally got out of his car as you approached him with Goose to your immediate left.

"Good morning" you smiled "large crowd at the gates, mostly photographers only a few fans, I recommend staying on the right side as you walk into the paddock" I explained "it's mostly photographers on that side and no interviewers"

Max nodded as you talked he followed your instructions. You put on your sunglasses to block the flash of the cameras.

Max made it past the hectic paddock entrance with you right behind him Goose walking by your side.

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As Max walked through the paddock he wasn't approached by any interviewers. He could get used to that.

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Max sat down ready to record some content for the redbulls media team. You positioned yourself out of the way but with a good view of everything as well as all the entrances.

Daniel soon arrived and noticed you almost immediately sitting down he leaned over to Max and asked "who's that? With the dog?"

"Oh that's, Y/n" Max explained "She's my new bodyguard"

"She looks badass" Yuki comments scaring the shit out of both Daniel and Max "where the fuck did you come from?!" Max shouts

You quickly looked over and watched the interaction, Yuki had been up there the entire time.

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As the recording came to an end you stood from where you were leaning. Watching Checo leave, followed quickly by Daniel and Yuki who look like they needed to be somewhere. Max started towards the exit you quickly followed him.

Begrudgingly Max sat down in front of a mic that had a big 'sky sport' on it. You stood just off to the side of the camera, completely out of frame and able to watch to one side of Max as you had Goose watching behind yourself.

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As Max answered the repeat questions he finally heard the one he's been dreading:

"So Max this morning you walked in with a lady who had a dog. Care to comment about that relationship?" The interviewer asked.

"She's my bodyguard" he stated

"She's your bodyguard..?" The guy asked like he didn't just hear him

"Yes."

"If you don't mind me asking why her?"

"She was recommended by a friend." Max said nonchalantly

"Sorry let me clarify my question" the guy said. Oh no, you knew where this was going. "Why not a male body guard they're stronger no?" He asked

"Are you insinuating that just because she's a women she wouldn't be a good bodyguard?" Max asked

"Well no-"

"No it's exactly what you're doing" he said "you media people always ask the stupid questions" he hissed "that is so fu-"

He was cut off by you "Max de camera staat nog aan" Max the camera is still on.

Instead of continuing he just gets up and leaves, cutting the interview short. You follow quickly, commanding Goose to walk next to Max as you figured Max didn't want to be approached by anyone. Scary dog privileges are the best.

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He opens the door to his driver room.

"Hier, blijf" (come, stay) you quickly rattled off to Goose who quickly went to your side and stopped next to you

Max also stopped in his tracks.

"Sorry" you quickly apologized "he's trained in dutch"

Max shook his head "no need to apologize" he said and then motioned you inside "but I don't want him out in this heat please come inside" he said

You weren't gonna argue with your boss "Volg" (heel) you commanded Goose as you walked into his driver room. Max walked in right behind you.

You stood off to the side as Max sat on the couch. He quickly motioned for you to sit down. You did just that.

Goose sat at your feet between you and Max. Max was obviously still pissed at what the guy said, you could see it on his face.

"You know" Max started "I've never been a dog person" he said "I like cats more"

"Huh," you said "I've always been a dog person" you said "started with the herding dog on my family's farm"

Max nodded as you talked before asking "can I pet him?" motioning to Goose

"Oh yeah of course" you smiled "as long as we aren't in a camera shot give him all the love you want" you chuckled "gotta keep his image up of a cold blooded killer, until the media finds my insta" you chuckled.

Max smiled as he ruffled Gooses head earning a lick from the dog.

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BREAKING NEWS: Max's new bodyguard, Y/n L/n has a trained protection dog named 'Goose'. Click here to read more!

One image attached!

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You and Max finally left his driver room as he had another media appearance with another interviewer.

Max walked in front of you Goose to his left. You grabbed the door opened it for him. You followed him inside "volg" (heel left), you told Goose who then fell in step beside you to your left.

You followed Max till he sat on the couch opposite of the interviewer. Instead you stood against the wall out of view of the camera.

"Okay" the interviewer said giving the signal to start rolling "so before we start with the questions: would you want to have your bodyguard sit down?" She asked, she sounded genuine

Max then turned to you "wil je gaan zitten? ze kunnen je vragen stellen..." (do you want to sit down? they might ask you questions...)

You responded "Ik vind het niet erg om vragen te beantwoorden. Wil je dat ik ga zitten?" (I don't mind answering questions, do you want me to sit?)

"Ik vind het prima als jij dat ook bent" (I am okay with it if you are) Max said

You gave a quick nod before walking over and sitting on the couch, next to Max. Turning to Goose you said "Bewaken" (guard), causing him to lay down in front of Max.

Turning to the camera the interviewer started "Hello everyone it's Stella here!" She smiled "and I am joined today by Max Verstappen and his bodyguard..."

"Y/n" you said "and Goose" motioning to your dog.

She smiled "and today we are asking the new, the old, and the frequently asked questions." She turned to Max "okay to start off, Max we'll start with frequently asked questions: do you think you'll win the 2024 world championship?" She asked already knowing the answer.

"Of course I will" Max said "if I don't have that mindset then I have no chance"

"Moving onto the old news: China after quali" she said "most fans just do wanna know what happened and are you okay"

"Well obviously I'm okay," he said "but the fan was drunk and belligerent after I was able to take the win," he said "knowing that he was outside of the paddock I shouldn't have left but I'm lucky at the security near the entrance was able to quickly get him away" he said "he surprised me honestly" he shrugged

"Okay now onto the new: your bodyguard Y/n" she said "everyone wants to know more about her" so that's why she wanted to have you on the couch.

Max quickly turned to you "Vind je het goed om te antwoorden?" (You good to answer)

You nodded grabbing the mic he held out: "it's a bit of a story but: I was actually the dog trainer for Roscoe, Lewis Hamiltons dog," you said "I'm a well known dog trainer in Miami I have trained several dogs for a lot of celebrities. Some for protection others just to have a trained dog" you said "but anyways Lewis called me I think the day of the incident" you thought "and we talked for a second and he asked if I still had my bodyguard certification" you said "which is really just a formality but for my job before I started training dogs I was security for a large club in Miami and we needed it" you explained "so after a meeting with Max we signed a contract that is basically me being his bodyguard with Goose until I have trained a dog for him" you finished, handing the mic back to Max.

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The drive to his hotel was relatively quiet besides the soft hum of the radio.

"When we arrive at the hotel do not get out" you said "keep the door locked till I have my hand on the handle" you explained "people are crazy here especially where your hotel is located"

Max nodded as you pulled the car up

You quickly got out shutting the door opening the door for Goose then opening the door for Max. People were everywhere, people shouting, some where drunk others just crazy. You quickly led Max to the entrance of the hotel and bid him a goodbye.

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Friday and Saturday were uneventful. But Sunday was race day, the day the MOST amount of people all week.

Walking next to Max, "rechts" (heel right), Goose moved to the right side of Max you walked on his left side. You were able to easily enter the paddock.

Finally its race time you placed the dog ear muffs over Goose to protect his ears. The had just finished the formation lap. The lights turn red one by one, then all go out hearing the infamous "lights out and away we go"

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Lando Norris had won the Miami grand prix. His first win. Max was really happy for him. Wanting to go out to celebrate but not wanting to get attacked he turned to you:

"Y/n do you mind coming out tonight?" He asked "I don't want to miss Landos first win celebration, but I you know need protection" he joked

"Sure I'll baby sit you" you joked back. Little did you know that was basically what you ended up doing.

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As it was Landos first win they were going hard. You stood off to the side watching them all carefully making sure nothing happened to Max specifically. They decided to leave this bar going to the next. You follow them out walking just behind the group.

"Verstappen!" A drunken voice called, "why the fuck did you let that fuck boy win" the man slurred

Stepping between the two quickly "step back" you said firmly to the drunken man.

"What are you gonna do about it?" The man slurred

"Blaffen" (speak) you called, causing Goose to start barking aggressively grabbing his collar as he started going manic as he barked.

The man quickly backed away before almost bolting down the street you shook your head "foei" (no), Goose immediately stopped "Bewaken" (guard) he stood next to Max ready to start walking again

"We're good" you said to him and the group

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Luckily nothing else happens that night. But not as lucky Max was beyond wasted. You were able to get him into the car and buckled him up shutting the door. You open the back door for Goose having him jump in. You got in and started driving realizing that you only knew where his hotel is and not his room you decide to drive to your house.

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Getting him into your house was an adventure. He was basically a dead weight, after an insane amount of effort you got him onto the couch in your living room and threw a blanket on top of him. Placing some advil and water on the coffee table next to him.

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As the job progressed and Max's new dog got trained many races were uneventful. The media attention on both of you had died down to what it was before Max got attacked. You are featured in some clips and interviews just answering the odd question or pulling Max away to get him out of range of anything dangerous. That is your job anyways.

The only big changes was social media: you stopped posting after getting a substantial amount of followers. People still comment on your old posts asking when your next post is. And the edits.. People are making edits of you and Goose being badass and it honestly makes you happy seeing all those cool edits. You'd take it to your grave but you love watching them in you bed late at night when you can't sleep.

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It was the Austrian grad prix. Lando and Max had gotten into it on the track causing Lando to get a dnf, and Max to drop to 5th place. He stormed off disappearing before you could catch up to him.

You eventually find him sitting in one of the chairs looking at the ground, with his helmet still on. As a man you don't recognize yells at him.

"Hey!" You shout storming over "back away from him"

The man with anger in his eyes glanced at you but went back to yelling at Max. Ypu quickly said "Blaffen" (speak) to Goose, he started barking at the man

"Get back" you commanded again

Finally he looked at you "Do you know who I am?" He asked all proud

"I don't fucking care who you are" you snapped "step away from my client" you said firmly

He turned back to Max and began yelling in Dutch to fast and angry for you to make it out. You were about to intervene again until the man raised his hand as if to strike Max

"Stellen, stellen" (bite, bite) you quickly commanded Goose letting go of his collar. The dog jumped up and bit the raised arm the force sending the man to the ground.

As this is happening Max watched it, he looked up just as you called for Goose to bite his father.

You followed your dog holding the man to the ground before commanding "Loslaten" (let go) Goose dropped the now bleeding arm. "Bewaken" (Guard), Goose stood in front of Max now defensively.

──⭒─⭑─⭒────⭒─⭑─⭒──

Security arrived with medical and as they treated the dog bite you explained to them what happened pointing the the cameras around as well as a fan that recorded the entire interaction on his phone.

After a bit of talking and reviewing security bid you a goodbye and left. Citing that you were doing you job.

You then sat down next to Max who still hadn't taken off his helmet. "Who was that anyways?" You asked him as you quickly cleaned the blood off of Goose.

"My dad" he said muffled from the helmet

"Oh" you responded

"Yeah" Max said

The air filled with awkward silence before you said "let's get you back to the drivers room to cool down you still have interviews" Max just nodded making his way to his drivers room. You follow him inside Goose quickly settled by the door as you went to Max who sat on the couch with his helmet still on.

Reaching over you unclipped it and took it off, placing it on the table. Max took off his balaclava throwing it next to the mask.

"Sorry" you said "about your dad"

"I- no- uh" he groaned frustrated "You're fine you were just doing your job" he said a little snippy. He didn't want it to come out like that but it did.

You just nodded as he talked listening before saying "okay we gotta have you head to the media pen before someone yells at us and you get a fine" you said standing up

Max just nodded and followed you out if the drivers room.

──⭒─⭑─⭒────⭒─⭑─⭒──

──⭒─⭑─⭒────⭒─⭑─⭒──

Media was done and all Max wanted to do was go back to the hotel. You don't blame him you'd want that too.

After the media pen Max was almost a shell of himself. So just to make sure he's okay you walked inside the hotel and got him to his room, you also needed to talk about earlier. When he opened the door to his hotel room and motioned you inside you were quick to oblige.

The room was nice it was similar to one of those one bedroom apartments just minus a kitchen.

Max settled down on the small couch letting out a sigh.

You just stood a bit awkwardly as Goose sat down next to Max's feet earning a few pets from the Dutch man.

"We gotta talk about today" you said breaking the silence

Max groaned "Do we have to...?" He asked

"I mean yeah" you said "Goose bit your father" you said "I'm sorry I didn't-" before you could continue he interrupted you

"You were doing your job" he said "you had no clue what he could have done or actually what he was going to do" Mac explained "you did what you thought was best to protect me. Which is your job" he leaned back on the couch and then muttered to Goose "thank you"

You ran through the situation in your head again. Jos, which you learned was the man's name, was actually going to hit Max.

"He was actually going to hit you wasn't he?" You asked him

Max stayed silent that's all the answer you needed

"Well now I wish I didn't tell Goose to let go"

Max cracked a smile, "thank you" he said this time looking up at you.

──⭒─⭑─⭒────⭒─⭑─⭒──

Both you and Max were in his driver room. It was media day for the British Grand Prix, but Max had been waiting to hear back about his next interview as the time.kept changing. You thought that they just wanted to keep him here as long as possible.

Max was watching the small TV as he sat next to you on the couch. You were on your phone just scrolling through some random social media apps. Goose was laying down by the door.

While both of yall were waiting Max fell asleep next to you. Because of the way he was sitting when he fell asleep he was leaning against your shoulder. Eventually you fell asleep too.

──⭒─⭑─⭒────⭒─⭑─⭒──

Later you slowly wake up but are held in place by some strong arms. You blink awake adjusting to the light. You laid on your side on the couch and where held in place by a sleeping Max. You tried to move to get up but were just pulled right back down. Giving up rather quickly you went back to sleep.

Max gently shook you awake. "Hey Y/n" he said softly, "we should head back to the hotel" he was blushing but it was kinda hard to tell in the lighting

You just nodded as I slowly got up and stretched quickly gathered you items.

──⭒─⭑─⭒────⭒─⭑─⭒──

BREAKING NEWS: Max and Y/n seen leaving the drivers room late at night. What does this say about their relationship: Professional? Friendly? Or is there more?

──⭒─⭑─⭒────⭒─⭑─⭒──

"Mate you're all over the news" Lewis said to you on the phone as you got ready

"What do you mean?" You asked as you got ready

"You and Max were spotted leaving his drivers room late last night, together." Lewis explained

"Fuck."

"Yeah" he said "I'm at the track already and people are asking me about it"

"What have you been saying?" You asked leaving the hotel room Goose at your side

"I've been saying: I don't know the relationship, and that uh you're his bodyguard so whatever he was doing in the room you have to be there cause when he leaves you have to make sure nothing happens and shit"

You sighed "thank you Lewis" you said as you opened the car door for Goose and shut it before getting in yourself, and starting the car.

"It's no problem" the brit said "but are you two...you know..?"

"God Lewis!" You said "no we're no fuck buddies"

He just laughed "come on you knew I had to ask"

"I'm hanging up now" you said ending the call.

──⭒─⭑─⭒────⭒─⭑─⭒──

After collecting Max from his hotel and you started driving.

"You seen the news?" You asked

"I have yes" an uncomfortable silence filled the car before you spoke

"Lewis said that he's been telling media that cause I'm your bodyguard I have to be with you basically 24/7 so we can just stick with that" you said "I mean it is the truth"

"Yeah" he nodded quickly, he didn't know that you knew he was cozying up to you on that small uncomfortable couch.

──⭒─⭑─⭒────⭒─⭑─⭒──

Media was lovely that day and respected both of you- said no one ever.

Several times you had to yell at people to back up or even push a few people away. And media was eating it up:

BREAKING NEW: Y/n L/n 'defends' Max Verstappen from media is it more than just bodyguarding?

BREAKING NEWS: Y/n L/n pushes away journalists, bodyguard or overprotective girlfriend?

BREAKING NEWS: Y/n L/n thought to be more than just a bodyguard, is Max taking the 'body' out of bodyguard?

──⭒─⭑─⭒────⭒─⭑─⭒──

The last title made you gag how does that get approved? It doesn't actually bother you to much but it's gross.

You sat on that uncomfortable couch reading the news, almost every single station had something about you two leaving the drivers room late, or about you pushing away journalists.

You let out an annoyed huff tossing your phone on the small coffee table. Max leaned over a bit to look at it.

"Why are you looking at that shit?" He asked

You just shrugged

The last articles name caught his eye he double checked "what the actual fuck" he hissed "this is bullshit, why the fuck would the title an article this" he was pissed. You don't know entirely why they weren't saying anything about him.

"I don't know" you just shrugged

"You aren't mad at this?" He asked before continuing "It doesnt matter, I'm going to go punch the fucker who wrote the article" not wanting him in any legal trouble, mostly cause you knew he would punch the guy, you stood up and quickly blocked the door.

"Nope" you said simply "the article title is just that: an article title. I know it's not true you know it's not true so why does it matter" you asked

"It's disgusting" he said "they shouldn't talk about you-"

You cut him off "exactly! Me they are only talking about me in a bad light so why do you car so much?" You asked a little ticked that he was still trying to get passed you

"Because I care about you okay!" He confessed "I know it's dumb, you're my bodyguard and I-" he was cut off by a kiss.

You didn't know how but you ended up kissing him. He quickly reciprocated grabbing your chin pulling you closer.

As you both broke the kiss catching your breath you rested your foreheads against eachother looking into his eyes you smiled.

"When did you fall for me?" He asked

"When we cuddled on that uncomfortable couch" you smiled he blushed

"I didn't know you were awake for that" he said softly

You chuckled softly "when did you fall for me?" You asked

"It was love at first bite" He said "when you were protecting me from my father."

Then they fu-

Fin.

──⭒─⭑─⭒────⭒─⭑─⭒──

[mr-cha-n]

The Pen Pal Project

Pairing: Choi Seungcheol x reader

Genres: Fluff, fluff, and more fluff

Warnings: Profanities, sappiness, cheating (third party), a tinsy hint of angst

Word Count: 10.2k

Summary: Over a decade of handwritten letters later, you can happily say that the Pen Pal Project was your greatest success.

Reaching up into the top shelf of the wardrobe, toppling onto your tiptoes in order to do so, your fingertips brush against a satin, bowed box. Pulling the box down to your chest, you perch at the edge of your large, periwinkle-sheeted bed, gingerly untangling the pretty blue ribbon and lifting the lid off of the top. Leafing your fingers through the stacks of paper inside, you feel a wave of nostalgia enrapturing your body. Your head rolls back, eyes falling shut as your mind is overtaken by memory.

"Honey, the guests will be here soon!" Your husband yells out from down the stairs.

"I'll just be a few minutes! Can you take the cake out, my love?" You call back, praying you have the time to reminisce before everyone arrives.

You gently pull out the first letter from the top of the stack.

April 5th 2007

Dear pen pal,

I am writing to you because my class has signed up for the Pen Pal Project this year. Because I don't know who you are or anything about you, I am going to answer some of the questions my teacher has given us, and hopefully you can answer them too in your reply!

1. What is your name?

My mom said that I shouldn't give out any personal information, so I can't actually answer this question. My friends all call me Dusty, so you can call me that too.

2. What hobbies do you enjoy?

I am really into skating, starcraft, hockey and rocks. Yesterday, me and my friends went out to the outskirts of the city to see if we could climb the big oak trees, and I found a piece of dolomite next to the river! I really want to find a meteorite but they're very rare so I think it'll take a lot of searching. I also play in my school's field hockey team - my mom wants me to stop playing because last week I cracked one of my teeth, but I think she's going to come around when she sees our tournament next weekend.

3. What do you want to do when you grow up?

My dad is a teacher and my mom is a nurse, so my parents want me to go to university and become a doctor or a professor, but I'd quite like to be an astronaut or Indiana Jones, whichever pays better.

4. What's one thing you want to know about your pen pal?

I want to know everything about you (more than one, sorry)! What's your school like? What year were you born in (mine is 1995)? What do you do for fun? Do you like dogs? Do you have a phone?

I'm not sure if I'll get a response to this letter, but if you do want to, I hope we can keep in touch for a long time :)

Yours truly, 

Dusty

May 21st 2007

Dear Dusty,

I'm really glad I got your letter. Some of my friends got letters that didn't even have a return address, but thankfully I get to write back to you and answer some of your questions. I was also born in 1995 so we are same-age friends. I'm finding this year in school a bit harder because of all the tests we are doing, but we just started doing football again in Physical Education so it's not too bad. Sports are my biggest hobby - I do football and basketball and I want to start wrestling this year. I mostly like to go and play with my friends at the park. I'm on some of the school teams, but my friends tell me I'm too competitive to play professionally.

I also really like gaming and reading. I finished the Protoss campaign over the winter break, but I've had to stop now that school has started again. My friends are all really excited about the announcement of Starcraft II, are you too? Will you keep going with the original or switch to the new one?

When I grow up, I either want to do sports or I'll study to work a good job in business or finance. Being an astronaut would be so cool! You'd definitely be able to find a meteorite then.

About your other questions, I don't have a phone yet but I do love dogs. When I'm older I want at least one dog, if not more. Do you have any pets?

I hope that we can keep writing to each other too - it's fun to have a secret friend.

From,

Cherry

January 4th 2011

Dear Cherry,

Sorry it's been a while - I've been really busy over the winter break, but I just had my tonsils removed so I have a bit of free time in recovery to write this letter. Before you ask, no - I didn't wake up during the surgery which I was a bit disappointed about, but I did manage to swallow enough blood to make me throw up after waking up so that was kinda crazy.

I can't believe that your friend did that! One time my friend Jiwoo got suspended for unscrewing all of the lightbulbs in the science classrooms, but that was because of a dare, not her own free will! I've never been suspended before, but I came close for tardiness last year. Have you ever been suspended?

I also appreciated your inquiry into the Heiran - Hyunki situation. I can't believe I forgot to update you in my last letter, and you'll be glad to receive it! Unbelievably, they got back together. I know it's what we feared would happen, but apparently Heiran has made some of her own mistakes in the relationship, so she's willing to overlook the whole thing. Absolutely crazy - I think that she's just scared to break up with him, which I suppose is a fair concern - just not for a 16-year-old. The whole situation really made me think about the purpose of relationships and love. All of my friends keep rushing into relationships this year, and I feel like I'm being left behind. I just don't care as much as they do, but they act like I'm some alien creature for not wanting to make out with someone in the school locker rooms. Perhaps this isn't something you can relate to, but it would be nice to know if you think I'm justified in my opinion or if there really is something wrong with me.

The thought of starting school again after the break is actually making me want to run away to the mountains. My sister is leaving for university and I don't want to go to school without her. Of course, I can't tell her that, but it's going to be really lonely walking in on my own. Plus, my parents' attention is firmly on me now, so I can't mess up in exams this year. The amount of pressure is going to make my head explode. How are you feeling about the year? I guess because you have the football season to look forward to your mind is probably focused on that?

I'm thinking about rejoining hockey this year. Even though it was too much last year, I did really miss it and I think I can better manage my time now that I don't have to be in the choir anymore. I think my mom might have a fit when I tell her, but the way you talked about sports really made me miss playing. Plus, apparently, I need an outlet for all these teenage hormonal emotions seeing as I'm not getting it on in the McDonald's parking lot.

Anyways, I need to get going now so I have time to blend some fruit up before lunchtime.

Yours truly,

Dusty

A chuckle leaves your lips as you read back over your letter. You'd been so worried about who was dating who and, more importantly, who you weren't dating. You were always so grateful for someone to discuss your fears with - your friends at the time certainly didn't understand. You'd had your first kiss a few weeks after you'd sent the letter. A party at a friend of a friend's house had devolved into typical teenage party games and you'd been pressured into kissing a boy whose name you couldn't remember. In fairness, you remembered that he was cute - curly dark hair and sharp cheekbones - but you'd made a joke about not being able to engage in tonsil tennis and he hadn't laughed so you'd known he wasn't the one.

June 27th 2011

Dear Dusty,

I finally asked out Myunghee and she said yes -

Nuh uh, skip that one.

October 23rd 2013

Dear Dusty,

All the kids in the year have planned a big Halloween party to celebrate our last your of high school. It's pretty exciting - apparently, they've bought some major decorations and they're going to set out the host's house to have scary surprises in all the rooms. I wouldn't be surprised if someone dresses up and decides to chase drunk kids around all night. It's a bittersweet feeling - our last Halloween party, but perhaps our best? Do you have any plans for Halloween and the holidays? I'm thinking of doing a Superman costume, but I'm wondering if that's a bit too obvious?

I put off writing about it first because I didn't want to open the letter with bad news, but I wanted to let you know that me and Myunghee broke up. Even though it's pretty sad, I've known it was coming for a while. If you remember my last letter, I told you about the fight that we had about next year, and I think that was really the beginning of the end. I was hoping that we could make it work a bit longer, but she said that we'd just be dragging out the inevitable and I guess she's right. I think I'm still a bit annoyed about the rollercoaster of the last month seeing if she's known the whole time that we should break up but I'll get over it. It's mostly just weird not having her around all the time. Everywhere feels a lot emptier now. I'm glad I can write to you about this - it's a bit awkward talking about it with my friends because they are also friends with her, but I can actually be honest with you. 

Anyway, I hope you are doing a bit better than me. Your date sounded pretty cool - I've always wanted to go on an ice-skating date but I'd be a bit scared of falling over and making a fool of myself so I admire your confidence. If you are still seeing him, I hope he's treating you well. Chocolates and flowers at least once a month - and you can tell him I said so if he asks. If you're not seeing him, I (pre-emptively) can't believe he did that to you! What a jerk...

Are you watching the AFC Champions League final? A few friends and I are going to go down to the bar to watch it together and pray for a good result - either way, it should be fun. I suppose your dad will have it on in the house, but I'll be shocked if you tell me you're going to watch it with him after last time. Best to avoid the flying wrath of a TV remote. There's something about dads and sports, isn't there? I wonder if I'll be like that when I'm an adult. I hope not, but I already get too into it so maybe it's inevitable.

Yours,

Cherry

That date had been a good one as far as you remember, but the memory has become blurry after all the times your husband has taken you ice-skating since. You'd dated that guy for a few more weeks after this, but he made a weird comment to one of his friends when he didn't think you could hear it so you knew he wasn't the one.

Finishing high school and moving on to university had been a formative time for you. You gained a sense of identity that you'd lost as a teenager, and reconnected with your younger self. A smile crinkles your lips as you think about that time. The stupid escapades of adults let loose on their own for the first time, the lifelong friends you'd made, and the wealth of knowledge you'd gained about yourself and about the world. Your husband never attended university so he never experienced any of that, but you suppose he did have his own life-changing revelations during this time.

February 8th 2015

Dear Cherry,

I'm in crisis and I need your advice! I haven't spoken to anyone else about this yet, but I have a feeling building in me that needs to be released and you always give me the best advice. I'm thinking about dropping out of my program. 

I know this sounds super rash and stupid, but I really hate it. I find it so dull and confusing, and everyone else is much better at it than I am. And, if I'm really being honest, I only chose medicine because my mother wanted me to. I would feel so stupid revealing that to anyone else, but I think you already knew that was the case. I'm struggling to keep going with it without the passion that other students seem to have, and when I hear about my friends' courses they sound so much more interesting.

If I actually go through with it, this may be the last letter I write to you. But, given that I survived my mother's wrath, a life studying literature or archaeology sounds so much more fulfilling to my brain even if not my pockets. What do you think about all of this? Is it worth following a passion that may lead to nothing or sticking it out with a stable, reliable path to future success without enjoyment?

As you know, I make very impulsive decisions, so I need your help in deciding whether or not this would be one of those.

Yours truly,

Dusty

P.S. I got asked to the dance by this really attractive guy who works at the coffee shop on campus so not everything is going wrong.

P.S.S. I found a rock which I thought was a meteorite but it was actually a magnetite - better luck next time!

You'd dropped out of your medicine major the moment you'd received the reply. Of course, your pen pal was a lot more supportive of your decision than your parents were but they got over it in time. Your fate had been decided the moment you'd stepped out of your first archaeology class - heart beaming and mind brimming with all of your plans for the future. Despite your parents' apprehensions, it had been the right decision. It didn't take long for your burning enthusiasm and insatiable appetite for learning to be picked up by your professors, and by your second year in the major you'd been invited on an exclusive trip one of your professors was going on with a handful of other students. 

It was around this time that you'd started wondering more about your pen pal. The flutters of your heart each time the small envelope appeared in your dorm pigeonhole had been drowned out by the rush of university life. Reflecting back, your obliviousness to your own emotions makes you shake your head in disbelief. But then, you'd met Daejung. He'd taken you out dancing, brought you flowers and laughed at your jokes, and you began to wonder if he was the one.

May 16th 2017

Dear Dusty,

Officially, you may know me better than anyone else. I know I already sent you a letter this month that you probably haven't even received, but I realised that it is the tenth anniversary since I received your first letter. Not to be soppy, but it truly means the world to me that we've been able to keep up this correspondence this whole time. 

As far as I'm aware, we won the Pen Pal Project. No one else I know stayed in touch with their childhood pen pal for nearly as long as we have, and I think that we deserve some kind of reward for it.

But, beyond any records we must have broken, I'm most grateful for the friendship we have developed. In any other circumstances, I would have said that it was impossible for people who have never met to be each other's closest confidants, but I can confidently say that there is nothing I wouldn't tell you. If it turns out you've been some 60-year-old man this whole time, consider me logged off from this life. 

My wish is that we can keep doing this for as long as we are able to hold pens in our hands, and even then I'd consider getting a scribe to write the letters for me.

As a gift, I feel that it's about time that I tell you my name - my real name. If you (and your mom) still don't feel comfortable sharing yours then Dusty is still perfectly fine for me, but the fundamental disconnect between telling a person your deepest secrets and not telling them your name has gotten too overwhelming for me, so it's time to rectify that.

Yours, 

Seungcheol

P.S. If you still want to call me Cherry that's also a-okay!

The first time Seungcheol revealed his name to you, you remember you'd dropped the letter in shock. As if knowing his name changed things, as if he didn't live a completely separate life from you already. It wasn't like knowing who he was would change anything about your life - you had no connection to him other than your letters - but the intimacy of his name had you staggering a few steps backwards, eye bulging from your head at the fallen letter. It seems rather overdramatic now, but in hindsight it always does.

This letter had been a bit of a turning point in your relationship, beyond the end of the nicknames you'd used for ten years. You'd always felt close enough to Seungcheol to pour your heart out to him in writing, but the closeness you felt was compounded in this letter. You wipe a few rogue tears from your eyes as you read back over it, moved by the raw declarations Seungcheol had been brave enough to express. If you really think about it, this letter was the first time you'd truly tried to picture what your pen pal looked like. Up until this point, you'd been enflamed by his words and unloaded all of your deepest thoughts to him in return, but this was the first time that you'd realised that your pen pal was a real man your age that you were already deeply connected to. The thought had been scandalous in your mind, and the shame that overwhelmed you when you'd met up with Daejung later that day made it hard to look him in the eye. Fantasising about a man you had never seen before had felt as bad as cheating, and the various forms of him that had appeared in your dreams for the rest of the week only compounded your guilt.

August 4th 2018

Dear Seungcheol,

Happy 24th Birthday! It's actually shocking to me to think that we're this old already, but I think mid-20s is a label that suits you well these days. Jokes aside, I hope you have a really lovely day doing whatever it is you have planned. I'll assume you're off bungee jumping with Jeonghan or on an all-inclusive golfing retreat until you tell me otherwise. In all cases, I hope that you are surrounded by friends and family to remind you how special you are.

Also, congratulations on your new job! I can't believe you didn't tell me that you were interviewing for it, but I suppose you didn't want to jinx anything by putting it into writing. I always thought that coaching would suit you - you could scare me into coming to practice any day! You should be really proud of yourself; I know that I am.

You'll never guess who got in contact with me this week! All out of nowhere, I got a message from Heiran of all people inviting me to her and Hyunki's wedding! I guess I was really wrong about that one... For their sake, I hope that their relationship is a bit better than it was in school. I was very surprised to be invited seeing as we haven't spoken in years, but I suppose it'll be nice to see everyone from school again. Perhaps I should tell Daejung that he can't come and you can be my plus one instead - I think you know the couple better than he does!

Another one of my friends just gave birth to a baby boy. All of this marrying and birth-giving is really screwing with my head. As far as I was aware, that's a thing that proper adults do and we're nowhere close to that yet. Even if I know that 24 is a very common age to be doing that stuff, it's still more than my brain can process. Once again, I am left behind as everyone else moves on to the next stage of life. I'm grateful, at least, that Daejung is pretty relaxed about all of that stuff. Hoping we can have a few more years before we start thinking about any of it - I still have so much travelling to do, things to see, and meals to eat before I flush all of my money down the toilet.

Jiwoo got really excited this week because she thought she saw Lee Byunghun walking past her work, so that made me feel a bit better about my life priorities.

Yours truly,

(Y/n)

P.S. I'm spending extra money to make sure this gets to you on time, so if it doesn't you cannot blame me.

P.P.S. My new address is - XXX

That year you and Daejung had finally moved in together. The apartment was small and in a less-than-nice area, but you'd been ecstatic at the chance to live with the man you loved. It had been a rough year before that - Daejung had missed out on a job offer for his dream role and you weren't able to go abroad on an excavation because he didn't want you to leave for months just as you were moving in together - but you'd seen the new apartment as symbolic of the new beginning you two would get together.

You'd also thought a lot about meeting up with Seungcheol that year. Looking back, it was crazy that you never did. Both of you expressed a will to do so, but something had always prevented you from actually doing it. You were completing your postgraduate degree part-time and working a service job that was supporting both you and Daejung at the start of the year, moving in together in the middle of the year, and Seungcheol had gotten busy with his new job in the latter half of the year. Even though you had never met up before, that you weren't able to that year was the first time it felt like a loss.

December 12th 2019

Dear (Y/n),

I've been thinking about you a lot recently. Writing to you has been the highlight of my month for a while now, and I'm so proud of you for everything you've achieved. It's amazing that you're already being asked to go on your first excursion as a proper expert, and I hope that Daejung comes around to the idea of you being away for so long. I'm sure that I'll miss your letters so I can imagine he's feeling much worse about it - but that shouldn't stop you from going. You might find an ancient vase and accidently release a curse upon the world, or discover a new dinosaur! Even if you go and are just digging up dirt with no results, I'll still be impressed.

One of the kids I mentor asked me if I knew what Starcraft was yesterday, and at that moment I really felt my age. I think it's led to some level of introspection I usually avoid, but one thing that has become clear to me is that I'm very grateful for this friendship. I hope that one day soon you can perhaps travel to Daegu and visit, or I can come see you in Seoul. Or perhaps it will take away the great fun of having a pen pal if we meet - you may be expecting someone completely opposite from me and seeing me may ruin the magic?

But the main reason I've been thinking about you is because I finally finished Kim Jiyoung, Born 1982. You were very correct in your recommendation - I can't believe it took me so long to read it! Summary of thoughts: I'm raging and also apologising to my mother and grandmother every time I see them. You have to send me another recommendation now that I'm finished - maybe some sort of mystery or thriller if you know any?

Yours,

Seungcheol

P.S. I suppose I should send you a whip and brown fedora and then you can officially say you're Indiana Jones. 

January 7th 2021

Dear Seungcheol,

I'm glad you had fun on your trip! The picture you sent of the mountains was absolutely gorgeous and was a hilarious reminder that I have no idea what you look like. I keep saying I want to go to Japan but can hardly find the time, but after seeing the picture I really must go now.

I have some big news.

Daejung proposed and we're getting married!! 

I know it's a bit out of the blue - I was surprised too. He's been putting off any mention of marriage for the last few months so I assumed he just wasn't interested but I guess that was all a cover to stop me from suspecting the proposal. It happened a few days after I got back from Vienna. It was really sweet - he threw this big party with all of our close friends and family to celebrate the end of my project and proposed at the end of the night. I was pretty shocked which I suppose was the point, but I'm really just excited that we're taking that step together.

My main purpose for writing is that I wanted to invite you to the wedding. It's a big step, but it wouldn't feel right to get married without one of my oldest friends there. If you decide you don't want to and you want to keep our friendship strictly on paper then I'd totally understand. But if you do want to come, we'd love to have you with us. I'll cover any travel and hotel fees if it means I can have you here.

Your continued support via letter means the world to me. 

Yours truly, 

(Y/n)

The wedding. Oh, the wedding.

A few nights before your wedding Daejung had come to the hotel you'd been staying in that week to finalise all of the preparations and observe some old-fashioned pre-wedding rituals your mother insisted on as if you and Daejung hadn't lived together for years before that. He'd given you a marriage gift a bit early because you were supposed to go straight to your honeymoon in Japan on the day of the wedding. Your heart fluttered in excitement as you opened the box, electrified at the surprise of what your future-husband could have gotten you to symbolise your union together. The reality had been, you could now admit, disappointing. The necklace had been pretty, and certainly not cheap. A silver heart set with a gleaming diamond to match the ring that Daejung had picked out for you. You'd smiled, thanking him for the gift and tried to ignore the discontent brewing in your own heart.

The first time you saw Seungcheol was at your wedding reception. Because of his job and the distance, he hadn't been able to make your morning ceremony, but the fact that he even chose to come all that way meant a lot to you.

"Who's the hunk with the green scarf?" One of your bridesmaids, Jiwoo had asked, pointing out a man standing alone by one of the drinks tables. 

For a moment you didn't want to believe that it was him, but who else would be at your wedding that you didn't recognise? Tall and broad with fluffy hair and a handsome-beyond-belief face, Seungcheol had been a picture to witness. All dressed up in a suit, you thought he looked rather like a super spy or a CEO from one of those corny romance books. In any case, you were shocked to your core that that was the man you'd spilt your darkest secrets to for over a decade now.

"Oh, I think that might be Seungcheol," You breathed, voice wavering with uncertainty even though you were now certain it was him.

"Seungcheol - hmm, why does that name sound so familiar?" Your other bridesmaid, Mirae, pondered, her brow crinkled as she tried to identify the name in her memory.

"Oh my god, you invited your pen pal to your wedding?!" Jiwoo exclaimed, spinning on her heel to give you an incredulous look. 

"Of course I did, I've known him for almost as long as I've known you!" You stuttered, your head still trying to play catch-up after the dizzying appearance of said topic of conversation.

"Why didn't you tell me that your pen pal was so hot?" Mirae scoffed, mock fanning her face in a way that made you feel shamefully irritated.

"Surprisingly, he didn't mention it in his letters." You responded, offering her a deadpan look and an eyebrow raise. She shrugged, but you'd known that wouldn't be the end of that conversation.

About 15 minutes later, you'd finally managed to make your way over to Seungcheol's perch. It was hard to decipher if your delay was because of all of the people trying to talk to you at the same time (perks of it being your wedding) or because of the unexplained fear and anxiety that was bubbling inside you at the prospect of finally meeting him face-to-face. As you finally made eye-contact, and he'd flashed his teeth at you in an infectious grin, you'd felt all of that melt away from you.

"Hi," You greeted, not able to wipe your own smile from your face.

"Hi," He responded, a peace settling between the two of you. "You look really beautiful."

Your face was all ablush and you felt a sense of dread at what would happen if you started like this. Starting down at your dress, you were unable to look back up at him.

"Thank you, I had it specially made," You smiled, your eyes gleaming as he chuckled at your joke. "I really appreciate you coming all this way, it means so much to me that you're here. Please let me know if there's anything you need - have you eaten yet? I can get you some-"

"It's okay, I'm feeling great." His hand reached out to still your own, which you hadn't realised was nervously picking at at skin around your nails.

"I can't believe that this is how we're first meeting," You breathed, a sense of shyness overwhelming you at the feeling of his skin against yours.

"If you ask me, we've definitely met before. Just not physically." His words had your head spinning so much that you were struggling to remember that you were both at your wedding.

"Poetic," You agreed, trying to present at least outwardly calmer than you felt inside. 

"Oh! Before I forget, I got you this." Seungcheol extended a hand out with a small, wrapped box in his palm. "It wasn't on the registry, and really it's only for you so I thought I should give it to you personally instead of putting it on the gifts table."

"That's really generous of you, you didn't have to." You offered him a shy smile, taking the gift from him. The neatly wrapped box had been laced shut with a pretty blue ribbon, and you remember the thumping of your heart in your chest as you undid it. A small gasp involuntarily left your mouth, your hand moving to cover it in shock. 

"Important backstory - I found it a few years after you told me you were looking for it. I wanted to just send it to you then, but I thought that I should keep it for when we met. I never thought that it would take so long to do so, but I hung on to it just in case."

A small chunk of dark meteorite sat in the box in your hand. Looking up and down between Seungcheol and the rock, you felt your eyes well up with tears that you had to force back down to not ruin your wedding makeup.

"Oh wow," Your voice cracked, "Seungcheol, this is seriously so sweet. I'm shocked that you kept this for me."

You felt unable to tell him all of your emotions, hoping that the gratitude in your eyes was enough to express them all to him. The sweet, adoring expression on his face told you that he understood without you needing to say any more.

That, unfortunately, had been the highlight of your wedding.

Not an hour later, it had all gone to shit, starting with a well-intentioned comment from your best friend.

"The wedding is so gorgeous (Y/n), I'll have to take notes for my own." Jiwoo gushed, pointing at all the flowers that had now been revealed as people moved into the outside area of the venue.

"I know, Daejung did a really good job picking out this place." 

"I'm so happy for you two, especially after the whole Vienna situation."

A bolt of alarm rang through your bones as you a struck still by the comment. You didn't miss the panicked look Mirae sent Jiwoo, who looked equally as confused as you felt.

"What-" You tried to compose yourself amongst the rushes of fear that were threatening to render you completely useful. "What do you mean the Vienna situation?"

Jiwoo was now floundering, looking between you and Mirae with a gaping mouth.

"I just meant - I mean, nevermind - I thought... I thought you knew?" The last whispered part had your heart sinking to the bottom of your chest. Mirae was refusing to meet your gaze, and that was telling you all you needed to know.

"Did something happen when I was away?" You demanded, your voice slick with emotion.

"(Y/n)..." Mirae started, but the withering look you gave her immediately stopped her placating.

Four words later and your entire life had exploded. He cheated on you. Whilst you were away, no less. And then, as if it would magically make everything better, proposed instead of telling you.

The look on your then-husband's face when you stormed up to him demanding to know the truth was enough to convince you of the reality of your friend's words. You could now admit, amidst all of the hurt, anger and disgust you felt towards Daejung at that moment, your overriding emotion was utter panic at the thought of having to tell all of your guests that the wedding was to be stopped and annulled. A trivial emotion amongst the personal grief you were experiencing, but undoubtedly the cause of your greatest distress at the moment.

You didn't see Seungcheol as or after it all happened. Any pretence of calm instantly slipped the moment you began speaking to your family and friends - a speech which ended with you in floods of tears being escorted away from the hosts of shocked guests. It was only hours later that you realised that you hadn't said goodbye and, worse, that you'd invited him all of this way just to witness the shitshow that was your failed marriage. Too ashamed to burden him further, you chose not to write to him for months afterwards He gave you space too, and you weren't sure if you felt grateful for it or utterly alarmed that he may just never want to speak to you again.

May 6th 2021

Dear Seungcheol,

I'm deeply sorry for my complete silence, although I suppose I do not need to explain to you the reason for it. My hand has been itching to pick up my pen and write to you every month that goes by, but only now have I overcome my own shame and disgrace to do so. First of all, I have to sincerely apologise for making you waste your time coming to such an awful event. I can only hope that you managed to get a slice of cake before it all fell apart so that I could at least offer you the condolence of a delicious snack. I also must apologise for completely abandoning you during your trip to the city. I was really looking forward to showing you my favourite spots, and I let my own misery get in the way of being a good host.

I hope you are well. As I haven't heard from you in a little while, I don't know what's going on with you so I have little to comment on. But, at the very least, I wish for your good health and general happiness. If you are worried about me, you don't need to be. I have taken the last few months to put my life back together, and I feel like I'm making better progress these days - hence the letter writing. I'm thinking of getting a dog for companionship since I have vehemently sworn off men for the foreseeable future.

I also wanted you to know that I treasure your gift. As it turns out, meeting you and getting a meteorite was the best part of that night, if you'll believe it. I have it kept in a special box on my desk just to make sure that it's safe and that I'll never lose it. I wish I could have given you something in return. If we end up meeting again I'll have to start planning now to make sure my gift is just as good as yours was. Speaking of, you are welcome to come and stay with me any time you want, and we can rain-check that city tour. Alternatively, if you want to ignore this letter and never speak to me again, I'd also understand.

Yours truly,

(Y/n) 2021

May 19th 2021

Dear (Y/n),

I'm so glad to have heard from you, and that you are doing okay. As much as I appreciate all of your apologies, none of them are necessary. If anything, I feel that I should be apologising to you for leaving you in the dark for just as long as you left me - you had a much better excuse too. Although I didn't want to overwhelm you with letters after such awful news, I realise now that leaving it so long was not the right course of action.

I think getting a dog is a fantastic idea. Company is something you'll never lack with a dog around, and I can agree that dogs are much better companions than men.

As for me, I am doing well too. It's mostly just been a cycle of work and sleep, so I haven't got much to report, but I'm hoping for a more eventful summer. Visiting the city would be a wonderful way to achieve this, so perhaps closer to the time I'll write again to arrange coming to stay with you. I would love to see you again soon. My only other news that I know you'd be interested in is that Jeonghan has seemingly met someone. He's keeping all of the details close to the chest, so I'll have to update you in the next letter when I know more, but it's an exciting revelation. He seems very happy, which is all I can hope for.

When I told you that I wouldn't stop writing to you until I could no longer hold a pen in my hand, I meant it. I hope that you will never again think that I wouldn't want to speak to you -it's the highlight of my day.

Yours,

Seungcheol

P.S. I'm sure you don't want to talk about the wedding, but just so you know - he was a fucking fool to let you go.

You remember the relief you'd felt at getting that letter. The uncertainty of whether or not Seungcheol still wanted to talk to you was enough to keep you on edge for the entire 13 days that it took for you to get his response. But, as always, your friend was reliably there for you.

The time you'd taken over those last new months, and the few months afterwards had been tumultuous, but cleansing. In your post-marriage clarity, you'd realised all of the opportunities you'd missed because of Daejung. Deciding that you wouldn't let him take anything else from you, you'd arranged to go on a long excursion you'd waved off for wedding planning when you'd first heard about it. Learning about the project from one of your old professors who'd transferred to Cairo University, you were offered a position on the ongoing expedition in Saqqara. Although Egyptology was not your speciality, your master's dissertation on the mummified scarab beetles found at Saqqara in 2018 and your tutor's reference got you onto a low-level position on the expedition.

Six months in Egypt had been exactly what you needed to move on from Daejung. At that time, your relationship with your closest friends was also on the rocks, and it was really only Seungcheol and your family that you missed during your time abroad.

December 23rd 2021

Dear Seungcheol,

I've finally got some time off over the holiday break, and I'm ready to give you the download of everything that's happening here in Saqqara! But, first, I'm going to have to beg you for the details of your double date with Jeonghan and Jooyeon. How was it!? Was Jooyeon's friend nice? Were there sparks? How many times did Jeonghan bring up embarrassing stories about you as a kid?

I hope it went well - you deserve all of the happiness in the world.

Now, onto the important stuff!

I'm not sure if you saw on the news, but we've made some pretty huge finds since I got here, Obviously, I can't give myself all the credit, but just being part of the team that made it happen is pretty incredible. We've found multiple tombs of dignitaries from the reign of Ramses II. I'm doing a bit of research on one of the tombs, belonging to a military leader called Hor Mohib, but I have to keep taking breaks every 20 minutes to pinch my arm and remind myself that this is reality.

My Arabic has gotten significantly better now - I was rather rusty when I first got here. I'm able to have reasonably complex conversations with the Egyptian members of the team and the locals helping out, and it's pretty cool for my nerd brain to be surrounded by a group of people equally as excited to be digging up ornamental graves as I am.

I'm really glad I came. It's hard to admit, even to you, but my life really fell apart after the wedding. Honestly, I didn't even know if I wanted to keep working in archaeology or if I wanted to jet off to Iceland and buy a farm. And the worst bit is that it's been so lonely since. Losing Daejung was one thing, but I haven't spoken to Jiwoo or Mirae since. I can't bear to look at them knowing that they hid that secret from me for so long. Maybe one day I'll be able to forgive them, but it certainly won't be now. Your letters have been my only sanctuary of human connection in these past few months, and that's something I'll have to add to my list of neverending gratitude I hold for you.

I realize now that I haven’t been very good at expressing how much your friendship means to me, how it's been my lifeline in this mess. Your letters are the only constant, the only thing that feels like home even when I am surrounded by ancient wonders and new colleagues.

And so, I have a confession. I want to see you again. I want to tell you all of this in person. I can't say what will come of it, but I know that after all of these years, after all the letters and confessions and secrets shared, we owe it to ourselves to meet in a way that isn't rushed or overshadowed by anything else.

Maybe we could meet halfway between Seoul and Daegu, or I could take the train down to visit you? I need to see you again, not as a guest at my ruined wedding, but as Seungcheol, the one person who’s known me at my best and worst, and still chooses to write back.

Let me know what you think.

Yours truly, 

(Y/n)

P.S. I've included a small rock I found on the dig - nothing special but it reminded me of our old conversations. I hope it makes you smile.

P.P.S. Please don't feel pressured to say yes, but know that I would really like to see you again.

You can't quite recall what possessed you to write such a bold letter. Perhaps it had been the desert sun, the thrill of discovering something new in something old at Saqqara, or simply your immense loneliness.

Days had turned into weeks as you anxiously waited for a response, checking your makeshift mailbox daily. Then one morning, there it was—a simple white envelope with Seungcheol’s familiar sloping handwriting.

January 17th 2022

My Dear (Y/n),

I've thought about meeting you countless times since our first encounter. After reading your words, I realise that I've been waiting for this just as much as you have. How's this - I'll take the first train up to Seoul when you're back and we can spend the day together. No distractions, no interruptions - just you and me, finally getting to know each other beyond the pages of our letters.

I'm looking forward to me, more than I can express. Until I see you again, take care, and know that I'm counting down the days.

All yours,

Seungcheol

P.S. the best bit about the date was spending time with Jeonghan. No more needs to be said.

You stare down at the letter, your heart pacing as fast as it had the first time you'd received it. Beautiful words from a beautiful man with a beautiful soul.

You'd gotten back to Seoul by the end of March 2022, and, as promised, Seungcheol came to visit you that first weekend in April. When he'd stepped off the train in the bustling station at the heart of the city, you were there to greet him. You'd spotted him standing there, taller even than you'd remembered, with that same easy smile that had always leapt off of the page.

The world around you had seemed to blur as you walked toward each other, nerves fluttering in your stomach but quickly dissolving as he pulled you into a gentle, lingering hug. The connection between you, once confined to words on paper, felt more real than ever.

You spent the day wandering through the city, visiting old bookstores, sipping coffee in quiet cafes, and talking as if no time had passed since that fateful wedding reception. Every shared laugh, every story swapped, deepened the bond you'd forged in ink.

June 14th 2022

Seungcheol,

It feels like only yesterday that we were wandering through Seoul together, but at the same time, it feels like a lifetime ago. I keep finding myself replaying that day in my mind - how easy it was to talk to you in person, as if we'd done it a hundred times before. It's strange, isn't it? How someone can feel so familiar, even when they're a whole new experience at the same time.

I've been thinking about our conversation in the bookstore. You said something about how some stories are better left unfinished, that sometimes the best part of a tale is imagining what could be. I can't stop thinking about that - about how some stories do need an ending, and how others are meant to keep going, even if we don’t know where they’ll lead.

There's something I've been meaning to tell you, but I haven't found the right words yet. I guess I'm still figuring it out myself. It's just that being around you feels different to how I expected. There's a comfort, yes, but also something more, something I can't quite define. It's like we're on the edge of something new, and it's exciting and a little terrifying at the same time. I'm not sure if you feel it too, but I hop you do.

Anyway, I don't want to get too ahead of myself as usual. I'm just really glad we've reconnected, and that we've managed to keep in touch after all these years. 

It means more to me than I can say. Let’s make sure our next meeting isn’t too far off—I’m already looking forward to it.

Until then, take care of yourself, and don’t work too hard. I’ll be watching the clock until I see you again.

Yours, 

(Y/n)

That day in April 2022 hadn't been the last time you saw Seungcheol. You'd made that mistake once in the past, and neither of you was willing to do so again. He continued to come to Seoul to see you, and you travelled down to Daegu to meet him and his friends. Your letters ceased for a while over this time due to the frequency you were seeing each other, but for the first time that didn't bother you.

You remember, with teary eyes, the day that you finally confessed your feelings.

It was 25th September 2022, after a whole summer spent together, and the air was tinged with the first hint of autumn's chill. THe leaves were just beginning to turn, painting the streets in warm hues of amber and crimson as you walked side by side in a quiet part in Seoul. The easy laughter and conversation that had marked your friendship over the years felt heavier that day, as it something unspoken was lingering in the crisp air between you.

You had spent countless days together that summer - visiting museums, trying new restaurants, even embarking on a spontaneous week trip to the coast. Each moment with Seunngchaeol had felt like a dream, a slow realisation that your heart was no longer just content with friendship. But with that realization came a fear you hadn't expected. What if this was enough for him? What if risking everything by confessing how you truly felt would unravel the beautiful bond you had spent so many years cultivating?

That evening, as the sun dipped low on the horizon, casting long shadows across the park, you found yourselves sitting on a bench overlooking a small pond. The water was still, reflecting the fiery colours of the sky, and for a long moment, neither of you spoke. Seungcheol had been quieter than usual that day, his expression pensive as if he, too, was wrestling with unspoken thoughts.

You felt your heart pound in your chest, each beat louder than the last as you tried to summon the courage to speak. The words were caught in your throat, but the fear of losing him if you didn’t say them was stronger. Finally, unable to hold it in any longer, you turned to him, your voice trembling as you broke the silence.

"Seungcheol," you began, your hands nervously fidgeting in your lap. He turned to look at you, his eyes soft and attentive, encouraging you to continue. "There’s something I need to tell you… something I’ve been feeling for a while now."

His gaze didn’t waver, but you noticed the slight hitch in his breath, the way his fingers tightened slightly around the edge of the bench. The world seemed to shrink to just the two of you, everything else fading away as you gathered your thoughts.

"I—" You paused, trying to find the right words, but there were none that seemed adequate to express the depth of your feelings. "I think I’ve fallen in love with you."

The admission hung in the air between you, a fragile confession that you could no longer take back. For a moment, time seemed to stop, the world holding its breath as you waited for his response. You searched his face for any sign of what he might be thinking, every second feeling like an eternity.

Then, without a word, Seungcheol reached out, his hand gently cupping your cheek, his thumb brushing away the tear that had escaped down your cheek. There was a tenderness in his touch, a warmth that radiated through you, calming your racing heart.

"I’ve been waiting to hear those words," he whispered, his voice thick with emotion. "Because I’ve been feeling the same way for a long time too."

His words washed over you, a wave of relief and joy so overwhelming that you felt your breath hitch. You had been so afraid, so uncertain, and now, with his quiet confession, all those fears melted away. He leaned in slowly, giving you time to pull back if you needed to, but you didn’t. You closed the distance between you, your lips meeting his in a gentle, tender kiss that felt like a promise—one of many yet to come.

Hearing the doorbell ring down below you, and the sound of your husband's voice calling out to say he'll get it, you rush forward to reach your favourite letter - just one more before you return to reality.

November 3rd 2023

My dearest (Y/n),

I'm so glad you're having such a good time in Rome - I'm rather jealous of all of your sightseeing and pasta-eating. Kkuma and I are holding the fort down at home, although I had to be scolded yesterday for breaking the toaster when I tried to make Kkuma some breakfast. I sent some more suncream over in the mail because I know you've already run out and forgotten to get some more - I'm not sure if this letter will reach you first, but if it does look out for the parcel.

Now, I'll admit, the main purpose of my letter is something a little different than simply catching up, as much as I love those letters too. I thought about doing this once you returned home, but you've already had one man declare his everlasting intentions to you after you returned from an excursion, so I thought it better to avoid rehashing those memories (we'll do this again when you're home, but I thought it might be fun to do it this way).

If you have the suncream box already, then you may have a sneaking suspicion of what I'm about to say.

I've loved you for as long as I've known you. As a twelve-year-old kid, I didn't know that was what it was, but the level of obsession I had with writing to you and receiving your replies was beyond any normal friendship. You were always so fascinatingly cool, out of reach, and genuinely yourself. Being in love with your pen pal isn't always an easy thing - the cold sweats I would wake up to after dreaming about meeting for the first time, the constant updates about a life that I wasn't a part of, the announcement of your engagement to another person. I tried to pretend it wasn't real for a long time, see other people, because of how silly I felt about being in love with someone I'd never met.

And then I saw you standing there, in that beautiful white gown with your hair up and that gorgeous smile on your face. Did you know that my hands were sweating when I gave you that gift? I don't think I've ever told you that before. I became certain then that I was completely screwed. Entirely head over heels.

I'll never be happy that that marriage didn't work out for you - all I've ever wanted is your happiness, be that with me or someone else. But I won't lie and say that nothing has made me happier than the consequences of it.

This past year has been the happiest time I've ever known. Every moment with you is filled with such joy, and every moment without I'm left with a record of memories to remind me of the time we've had together. When I look at you, I don't just see my past, but also my future. I see a lifetime of shared experiences, of laughter, or quiet moments that mean more than words ever could. I see us growing old together, supporting each other, and playing trash hockey on the wooden floor of our kitchen.

You are my best friend, my partner, the love of my life. And I want to spent every day making sure you know just how much you mean to me.

So, that being said, will you (Y/n) (Y/l/n), do me the honour of marrying me?

All yours,

Seungcheol

P.S. Please don't feel pressured to say yes, but know that I would really like it if you did.

You fiddle with the precious ring on your left hand, your fingers lingering over the smooth chunk of dark stone in the centre.

A gentle brush of a hand on your shoulders brings you back to the real world, tears now flaking on your cheeks as you sniffle at the words on the page.

"Are you okay, darling?" Seungcheol asks gently.

"Yes, sorry, I know the guests are here now - I just wanted to look at these," You reply, holding up the letters for your husband to see.

You watch his expression soften, a suggestion of moisture in the corner of his eyes as he looks over the written words.

Swooping down, he places a long, loving kiss on your forehead, letting your bodies rest together in harmony for a moment.

"I can't believe they still make me cry," You huff, letting out a soft laugh. "And I don't even think I can brush it off as hormones."

"Seeing that just looking at them has me tearing up, I don't think I can either." Seungcheol smiles, stroking the back of your hair affectionately.

"They're probably getting antsy downstairs, right?" You say, beginning to pile the letters back up into the box.

Standing up, you lean forward to press all of your passion and adoration onto your husband's lips. You can feel his intensity matching yours, his hands finding the side of your hips to keep you stable.

"They can wait," Seungcheol replies, his forehead leaning softly against your own. "They're not the ones who are pregnant after all."

You laugh, a sound filled with both joy and contentment, feeling the warmth of his love surrounding you. "I suppose you're right," you say, a smile spreading across your face. You take one last glance at the box of letters, a testament to the incredible journey you've both shared—one that began with innocent childhood exchanges and blossomed into a love story more profound than you could have ever imagined.

Hand in hand, you and Seungcheol make your way downstairs to greet your guests, the letters safely tucked away in their satin box. As you step into the room, you know that no matter what the future holds, you'll always have those words, those memories, and most importantly, each other.

[antiadvil]

early tit shows request

I already posted this in the community tab but wanted to make a separate post so it can be shared more widely.

TLDR I’m very photosensitive and have tit tickets for November 3rd in Chicago. I would like to compile a list of the flash effects in the show and when they are before I go, so I can know when to look away. If anyone else would find this useful, I can share the list publicly. I'll put the rest under a cut because it's very long and I want any discussion via reblog chain to be legible:

why i need help:

As some of you may know because I bitch about constantly, I have chronic migraine, and one of my symptoms is photophobia that ranges from moderate to severe Literally All Of The Time. On a good day I’m able to hang out in a dim room wearing my tinted glasses and experience no light related pain but even on my best migraine days I still find very bright, flashing, or flickering lights to be very painful to look at or generally exist around. I bought a tit ticket fully knowing there would likely be flash effects in it because WAD did, many of their videos do, ii and tatinof probably did, I don’t remember, and literally every stage production I have been to in the past year did, except for an orchestra, if that counts as a stage production 😂. I literally would not be able to leave my apartment if I avoided everything that triggers my photophobia considering the Literal Sun is one of the biggest offenders so I am really not looking for people to tell me to just not go or whatever. Obviously I hope that my migraine resolves by the time my show comes around (like at least breaking down into individual episodes instead of one incredibly long migraine would be nice), and it’s possible it will, since I haven’t actually gotten to try the most promising treatments yet bc insurance bullshit, but I expect to still be dealing with this two months from now.

how you can help:

So, it would be really helpful if anyone was able to tell me about the flash effects in the show before I go. Ideally, I would like to know how many there are, how extreme they are, how long they last, and MOST ideally, approximately when in the show they happen so I can cover my eyes and look away beforehand (I’m thinking, like, “after they do abc they flash the lights,” not timestamps, since I think that would be much easier for everyone involved to remember. I know this will probably involve spoilers, I don’t mind, I’m currently planning to look at spoilers for the show). I know this is not something people with normal eyes/brains/optic nerves normally remember after shows (even my closest friends who are genuinely trying have failed to warn me about flash effects before) but I am hoping through the power of crowdsourcing i can put together a semi-complete guide to When To Look Away At Tit For Photophobic people. I can share that doc if there’s any interest in it and anyone who is able to “test drive” the document before my show would be very helpful. I’m also willing to keep making changes to the document after my show, if that’s something people would find helpful. If it is though I would really appreciate hearing from you- even if it's just an anon or something, because I'm not going to do extra work if I don't think it will reach anyone who needs it. I'm sure I'm not the only person who's planning to go to tit and just suffer through any flash effects, but I don't know if this post/the document I make will reach any of them (does anyone know if there's an accessibility/disability community on phan twitter??). My tentative plan is to share the document regardless, since it doesn't take much extra work from me, but if this is something that would benefit you please reach out so we can make sure it benefits you too.

a hopefully helpful guide to flash effects:

Another challenge is, quite frankly, most people are very bad at even noticing flash effects if they’re not photosensitive. I get it, as a newly photosensitive person I was genuinely confused about why I left across the spiderverse with such a bad headache, because nothing in it looked like a “flash effect” to me. Some things that have triggered my photophobia before that people may not think of as “flash” effects include: the snow effect in stardew valley, candles (flames in general create a very flickery light), glitch/static editing effects, the sort of stuttery/laggy way video games look when your graphics card is bad, and video that flips through photographs/backgrounds very quickly (this is worse the more different the colors/etc in the photos/backgrounds are from each other but even if it’s done in a more stopmotion kind of way it still bugs me at low FPS. It’s like the video game thing, I’m not sure if there’s an actual word for that). Another thing that commonly bothers people (personally it doesn’t hurt much though it can make me a bit motion sick) is sort of swirly “hypnotizing” gifs.

From the set photos, I think any flash effects would most likely come from the light/rope/wire things, those just look perfect for some kind of sparking/lightning effect which I imagine would be very obvious and easy to spot. The video screens could probably also be a problem but if they’re all at standard screen brightness, unless they all start being flashy at the same time, they’re a much smaller portion of the audience’s field of vision so I don’t think they would be as problematic (though I would still like to know about them!). My worst fear is that they’re playing something really staticky for the entire show, though I hope that at my distance from the stage, the static would be small enough to just kind of blend into gray and not bother me much.

in conclusion:

Yes, this could all be solved if people stopped putting so many fucking flash effects in their shows. I am begging for the entire world to realize that nine times out of ten they are Completely Not Worth It and just putting a “some flash effects may not be suitable for photosensitive viewers!!!” warning on every piece of media ever created does not make their media accessible (hey Netflix! Wanna give me a timestamp to skip or am I just expected to never watch Stranger Things?). But here we are.

[carmenized-onions]

Doing Too Much. | House Call

logline; Appliances can reach their breaking point, when you push them too far. Same goes for people.

[!!!] series history, this is the sixth; First, Second, Third, Fourth, Fifth

[New Thing!!] Spotify Playlist, if you like to listen while you read. I listen to it when I write :) Constantly gettin' added to.

portion; 4.8k

possible allergies; eatin' meat, besides that, we're pretty good actually. did somebody say calm before the storm....?

pairing; Carmen ‘Carmy’ Berzatto & Fem Reader (no pronouns, but girl is said a couple times, i believe.)

After this chapter, I'm entering my era of couch hopping as I move to a new city n start a new job. I'm really excited for the chapter after this one, so hopefully I actually get time to write it-- But that's just my lil warning if you're left rereading for like two weeks </3 But I'll def be stalking my activity/inbox so please do yap to me

Monday morning. The next morning after everything. Well, closer to noon than morning, at this point. You’re supposed to have, what, a work ethic this week? After the most insane weekend of your life? No. You’re lazing around and doing fuck all. No matter who calls. Well… Not completely no matter, but like, most people.

When you check your phone, you’ve gotten a text at 6:43 A.M. Unknown number. Ah. Carmen. You put him in as Carmy, and put his nickname as ‘Mister New York’. Listen, old nicknames Mikey ingrained in your brain die hard.

It’s a simple text, deeply un-romantic.

‘Connections Puzzle #342’

Then, four lines of four perfect categories. Flawless. Purple first, even. The hardest category. And then,

‘Morning’

Stupid. Incredibly stupid, to be enamoured, by this. You reply,

‘Good morning!’

‘Connections Puzzle #342’

And then a failed jumble of coloured squares, you get one out of four categories. What the fuck is 'dogleg' and since when has it meant taking a sharp turn? You follow that up with,

‘Fuck you.’

Aside from Carmen, you’ve actually gotten texts from a couple people. Your boss at Eden’s asking if you’re alright. What the fuck did Cicero say? Oh well. You tell him you’ve ‘been better, been worse. Will be okay by next week.’ Perfectly vague, and you still get wired your cheque and tip out. Alright, maybe Uncle J does deserve your free labour.

Speaking of, the next text on your itinerary is from Uncle J, just info for the winter nuptials of Vinnie and Mira. Oh yeah. Three-hundred guests, you remember that part. You also remember him saying it’d be an ‘easy gig’… He did not mention you’d be the only bartender. This is going to be a nightmare. Oh well. You text back that despite it being an open bar you get to put out a tip jar. He just reacts to it, ‘haha’. That sounds like a yes to you.

And then, adorably, a selfie from Syd, wearing the collar and pins you’ve gifted her, under a green sweater. Cutie. You hype her up accordingly.

Besides some texting though, Monday is relatively unbusy. No calls. No emergencies. No businesses knocking down your door for your services. You’re thankful for a break, letting the inertia set in, finally being able to relax after fix after fix after—

Tuesday comes, you get sent another perfect round of New York Time’s Connections around half past six in the morning, along with a good morning text. And again, you fuck it up. You send him your Wordle results this time, as an act of rebellion. You then ask,

‘How’s reworking the menu going?’

‘Hard to say’

‘Ask me tomorrow’

God he’s an awful texter. Horrifically dry. You know you’re down bad beyond a belief when you find that endearing. You spend Tuesday drowning and pruning your plants after depriving them for so long.

Plus working on your art piece for Carmy. You’re pulling out old film photos, a canvas, and a load of bleach—It’s like high school art class all over again— Surprise surprise, the handyman who loves to up-cycle is a mixed media artist. Who could’ve guessed?

While trimming a photo, an exterior of The Beef, a picture frame on your wall falls down behind you, you tut, turning your head to it, chastising the air. “Mikey! It’s a copy, relax! I’ve still got the original print…”

There’s every chance you’re insane— No, you’re definitely insane. But you’re allowed to be, your best friend died, you’re allowed to talk to the air as if he’s still around. Sometimes the timing of doors swinging open for you and things falling down are just too uncanny to not be a ghost.

Wednesday arrives, and again, just after 6:40, Connections results. And the Wordle, this time; plus a ‘Good Morning’. It looks like this is simply just your thing, now. Every morning, the second both of you get up, you send each other puzzles and wish a good morning. You don’t mind that. It’s nice to have a ‘thing’, with someone. With Carmen.

Part way through the day, around two o’clock, you get another text. Two, actually. From Carmen, in quick succession.

‘Are you busy?’

‘Don’t worry if you’re busy. Can call Fak’

You’re quick to reply, frankly deeply offended.

‘Are you fucking firing me????’

‘I’m gonna get ready. Text me details’

While getting dressed, you watch three dots bubble, bubble, bubble… He’s taking forever, just don’t look at it, you’ll get anxious for no reason. No jumpsuit today, you’ve got to switch it up every now and again. Navy cargo pants with the perfect number of pockets and zippers, and an orange Chicago’s Kindest shirt, tucked in. Hm. Looking in the mirror, hickey is still there. Lighter, but there. Foundation? No. You’ll sweat it off and that’ll just bring up more questions. If Syd asks you’ll just tell her you fell down the stairs… On your neck. She's not the type to confront anything remotely sexual anyways.

Speaking of Syd, before Carmen can text you back, she calls you, which is fair— Don’t leave a Carmen to communicate. You stick your phone in the crux of your neck and answer while you pack your utility belt. This feels nearly nostalgic. “What’s fucked?”

Carmen is in the background; you can hear the tail end of a sentence, grumbling. “—Don’t call—”

“My life.” She responds without missing a beat. “And also, Carmy’s stove and oven.”

“Oh.” You squint. “What the fuck happened?”

“Overuse? I actually don’t fucking know, it just stopped working. We plugged it in and out— He even reset his apartment’s breakers. I dunno what’s wrong with it. It’s probably got something to do with him putting his fuckin’ jeans in there.”

“…He what?”

You can hear him in the background, again, clearer this time, grimacing, “What are you doing to me?”

Syd does not mind him at all, continuing, “I know! He’s fucking weird!”

“He’s extremely weird.” You like him a lot. “I’ll be over soon, were you guys like, mid-cooking?”

“Yessir.”

“Christ, alright… I think I have a dual burner hot plate laying around somewhere, you want me to bring it—”

They both speak clearly this time, together, “Please.”

You’ve got a pile of things to give to them anyways, and maybe you miss Carmy’s face. Just a little.

Instead of just buzzing you in, Carmy comes down for you. When he sees you through the door window, carrying a cardboard box, he almost breaks into a full run. He’s somehow opening the door, grabbing the box from your hands, and chastising you all at the same time. “You should’ve left it in the car, I would’ve—”

You step in through the entryway and kiss his cheek, cutting him short. You can’t help yourself, it’s the first time you’ve seen him since and you feel like a giddy teen. The teenage girl in your head is no longer just in your head, she’s fully manning the station. “You’re very sweet. But it’s also not heavy.”

When he continues to be frozen, the regret starts to mount, “Is—Sorry, is that okay to do—?”

“It’s very okay to do.” He manages to reply, with haste. Nodding to himself. “It’s good.” He nods again, then marches off, expecting you to follow to the elevator. You do.

“What floor?”

“Eighth.” He sniffs; you press the button. He stands next to you, looking you up and down. He astutely observes. “Orange.”

“Yeah.” You smirk, looking back at him, “Turns out, businesses can have two colours in their designs.”

What’s a little roasting of fellow small businesses between two not just friends?

“Oh yeah?” Coy, smirking. Oh no. You’ve gotta get the teen off the controls. He tilts his vision to stare at your jacket. Ah. You opted to wear your Carhartt instead of his jean jacket.

“Didn’t wanna give Syd more questions.” She already guessed you’re a sugar baby, you don’t want to wrap Carmen in on that too. Especially since ideally in a month or two he’ll be your boss. Hm. The Bear is going to need an HR.

He hums, nodding. “We’re not telling Syd?”

“What’s there to tell?” You grin, crossing your arms. “You suddenly have free time, Bear?”

He takes a beat, thinking, then just takes a deep frustrated yet amused exhale. “I’m gonna fuckin’…” He can’t think of a threat. “…Get you.”

You snort, “You’re gonna get me?”

“Fuck you—!” “You’re gonna fuckin’ get me, Bear?”

“I—” He tries to hold a straight face, it doesn’t work. “Yeah, I am.”

“Can’t wait.” You nod, grinning, turning back to the doors. “You told me to ask how menu’s going tomorrow.”

“I did.”

“It’s tomorrow.” The door dings, opening on the eighth floor; you step out together. He switches his grip to hold the box in one arm. Alright Biceps, we don’t need to brag here...

“It’s… We’re getting there.” He grimaces. “Syd’s recipes are always… Almost perfect.”

“Ah.” You nod, you know your friend well enough to know where this is going. “And she fucks up one thing hard?”

“Mhm.”

“And when you tell her it’s okay and give her a hand she just feels worse?”

He nods. A touch surprised you’re right on the dot so quickly. “Everything ends up perfect, but I think she’s finding the edits…”

“Demoralizing.” You walk down the hall together, he nods. “I know what she needs, I’ll find an in.”

“You always do.” He hums, you walk just a touch ahead of him, unknowingly walking past his door. He pulls you back by the back of your jacket, making you stumble back into him. This seems to be this villain’s intention; as when you turn around, he’s quick to grab your chin and kiss you.

“It’s very good.” He emphasizes, again, before opening his door and acting like everything’s totally normal and fine. Since when did he turn the tables and make you the desperate one? Son of a bitch.

Ah. Actually, subtract any attraction you had in this moment— He lives like this? Books on the floor, by the window. Jeans on the dinner table, because they were in the oven. The kitchen actually looks alright— You’re almost certain that’s purely for utilitarian purposes while they’re working on the menu. This motherfucker better have a bed frame or him asking you to sleep over would be downright offensive. God, he’s wonderful. God, you’re an idiot.

You find Syd at the table, moping, head in hands. Carmen sets the box down, sitting beside her. You pat the top of her head. She silently moves one of her hands to go over yours. You nod. The silent exchange of girls who know.

“Yeah?”

She nods, grumbling. “Yeah.”

Carmen has no fucking idea what’s happening and he’s never been more intrigued by a near wordless social interaction in his entire life. What? You’re not even making eye-contact. What the fuck is happening?

You fish through the box with your free hand, grabbing a pot. You place it in front of Syd. “Look.”

She peeks through her fingers. A tiny but flourishing nursery pot of basil sits before her. You speak. “You’re gonna hyper-fixate on this basil I’m gifting you, and then you’re gonna crack back into it with the dual burner until I’m done fixing the oven.”

She nods, putting her hands in her lap, “Yes, Chef.”

You pull out a second nursery pot, setting it down for Carmen. “For you.”

“What for?”

“Basil grows like a motherfucker and it’s getting unhinged. I need to start pawning off to people that’ll make good use of it. A-K-A, chefs.” You look at Syd, pointedly, “Talented chefs.”

You hand off the heating pad— Wrapped in brown paper with a card tied to it, to Carmen. “For Nat.” You add, when he looks confused, “Can’t imagine I’ll see her sooner than you will.”

He looks even more confused, when you hand him a spray bottle full of reddish water. It’s one of the good spray bottles, too. Continuous. Carmen wouldn’t know the difference, but you do. “Rosemary. —Water, that is.”

He squints; you clarify, gesturing to your own hair. “You mentioned, losing hair, so— Thought I’d make some, with the trimmings of rosemary I had. Got ginger and cloves in it, too.”

Why have you trapped him in hell? You’ve remembered such a specific off hand from days ago and acted on it? And he can’t express the grandiose level of affection he feels right now? Are you serious? You’re the devil. You’re absolutely the devil. He just coughs out a ‘thanks’.  

“And, the pièce de résistance,” You pull out the old ass, boxed up double burner countertop stove. “A stovetop that ideally fuckin’ works. It was my single claim to fame in my college dormitory.”

Carmen’s already opening the box. Sydney smirks, curiosity peaked. “Was that legal?”

“You a fuckin’ RA?” You grin, poking her forehead. “It was not. And that’s exactly why everyone loved me— Didn’t serve them fuckin’ hot pockets.”

The configurations of Carmen’s apartment would be great for literally any occasion besides the current one. The kitchen is narrow, and so, when you pull out the stove to check the back, there’s an estimated no fucking room left for Carm and Syd, so they sit at the dinner table with your stove top. You’d think they’d look like they’re doing a cute hot pot. No. They look like two conflicted and confused twelve-year-olds working on a science project.

So do you, honestly. Wiring is definitely more your speed than plumbing, but if you’re being honest, this is the first oven you’ve worked on without your dad, and you’re having a hard time remembering everything. There’s a lot of embarrassed Googling on your phone, when you're sure they’re not looking. They can’t know you’re even slightly incompetent!

You’re pretty sure it’s just a couple damaged wires, fried from overwork— Easy fix, if you had wire. You don’t. Slightly harder fix. But soldering is your bitch really, you’re in your bag. You look stupid, wearing chunky goggles and a respirator, but you’re in your bag, baby! What’s that one saying? Skills make you hot? That’s not a saying.

But it is true. When Carmen’s able to peer into the kitchen, quickly looking over his shoulder when Syd takes a moment to write a measurement or direction down, you look stunning.  Respirator and all. You just look correct there, in the kitchen. His kitchen. So stunning he feels guilty. Do you find it annoying? Constantly fixing errors behind him? Probably. You say it’s not a lot of work, but that can’t be true.

“How’s The Bear, ‘sides menu rework?” You ask, raising your voice in the kitchen.

“S’good.” Carmen. “I’m in hell.” Syd. Not hard to tell which statue is lying, here.

Syd stutters on, “Nat’s takin’ care of baby Michaela— Which is very good and—and cool, actually.”

“But?”

“But we’re back to handling the business side entirely ourselves, for like— The next month. Maybe two? Fuck, are we doing the wedding without her?” Sydney almost burns her sauce, Carmen’s quick to move it off the burner.

He mutters, “Don’t even start to think about it. It’s gonna be fine. We’re gonna figure it out.”

“Oh yeah, wedding— Have you gotten your menu yet?” You call from the kitchen, muffled by your respirator.

“Oh my god!” Sydney exclaims, and Carmen is wincing. She can’t tell you things are going wrong; doesn’t she know that? You’ll fix it, if things are wrong. You always fix it. Fix him. You’re gonna put him in your phone as Carmy Bad News. If you haven’t already. Start a support group with Tif.

Syd continues, “They’re so fucking particular and somehow also vague—Like, ‘we want salmon and chicken’ for main course— What kind of preparation? ‘Surprise us!’ Okay, how about roasted chicken—? ‘Mmmm, no, not that’. I’ve been told ‘non quello’ at least ten times in the last four days.”

No, you’re witty. Bad News Bear. Fuck, that’s definitely his name in your phone, isn’t it?

“Fuckin’ nightmare. Y’know, I’m the only fucking bartender? For like three hundred guests? Thank God they’re not asking for a custom cocktail or anything, I’d lose my shit.”

Sydney laughs, and she steps back into her flow easily, reducing the sauce without burning it, now. She looks more serene than she has in days. What? How are you doing that? What are you doing? Are you casting a spell?

“Can you even fucking imagine what their couples’ cocktail would be?”

You groan from the kitchen, laughing in return, “Not you too, Syd! Must you make me work!?”

“C’mon maestro, make a cocktail!”

“Bleh. Uh… They give long island iced tea energy, but it’s a wedding so— Like a boozier negroni?”

“That sounds fucking disgusting.”

“I didn’t say it’d be good, I said it’d be their couples’ cocktail.” You’re both giggling, like school girls. It’s like you said— You become teens, together.

Despite the fact that Syd is making an incredibly complex dish, and you’re fixing an oven—His oven— Ridiculing the other impossible tasks set out for the both of you… Despite all of that, you’re laughing.

Carmen is, what, nearly thirty? A restaurant owner, with a full crew, who attends Al-Anon, and is only now truly registering the power of an unsolvable burden being shared. Not fixed, shared. Talking. Laughing. God, this all comes so easy to you, doesn’t it?

You finish soldering, test each burner, and the oven— All working, thank God. You quietly cheer in the kitchen, removing your respirator and goggles. “We’re good here! Fixed!”

“C’mere!” Syd calls out to you, and so you do. Eagerly. She hands you a fork. Unprompted, she does the thing. You’d missed the OG, really.

“Beef Oxtail, pressed in a Foie Gras casing, seared. Basted in a King Oyster mushroom sauce. Pureed greens on the side.”

“I never know what the fuck you’re saying.”

She pushes the side of your face with the palm of her hand. “Put it in your mouth and chew.”

You want to make some sort of kink joke, but you respect the already struggling man in the room and take a bite. Hm. Hm. You put a finger over your mouth, swallowing. “...Now it might just be my unrefined palate.”

“That’s why we have you try it.” Carmen pipes in. Syd nods, following. “It’s important to know the baseline.”

“…It’s got like,” You hand the fork to Syd so she can try it, while you think. “A bit of a bitter aftertaste? Which might be the… goal?”

Syd spits it out the second it touches her mouth, she shouts your name, your actual name— A rarity. She’s so terrified that she forgets the Walk-In bit she’s been in on all week. “I just fuckin’ poisoned you— Oh my god?! Are you good? That was— Fuck! You swallowed that?!”

She grabs your face like a concerned mother, also maybe to check if you have superpowers, you’re not sure. All you know is there’s a golden opportunity to make another sex joke and you have to hold back. Life is so unfair.

Carmen takes a quick taste, also spitting it out. “I’ve got it, Chef, don’t sweat.” Immediately looking to the drafted recipe card to see where they went wrong.

Syd almost squeezes your cheeks like a stress ball but thinks better of it, letting go, groaning, beyond frustrated at this point. “You shouldn’t have to fix it— I should fuckin’ have it, at this point.”

Carmen's trying to ignore how much he relates to the sentiment. He's not the focus, right now.

“We make mistakes, Chef—” “Syd.” You snap your fingers, pointing to her, interrupting Carmen. “Can you help me grab something, from my car? It’s kinda big.”

Carmen’s quick to chime in, already going to untie his apron, “I can—”

“No!” You look at him pointedly, trying to communicate through look alone. He kind of gets it? “It’s… Girl stuff.”

Syd squints. “You need me to help you carry a big girl thing?”

“…Are you fuckin’ helping or are you gonna poke holes?”

“What are you actually dragging me out for?”

“Technically I do actually need your help grabbing something, it’s just not a girl thing. And it's also not from my car.”

“Oh?”

You walk out of Carmen’s building with his keys, and gesture out to every apartment buildings treasure trove— The spot everyone throws their furniture when they move out and don’t know what else to do with it.

“Bookshelf!” There is actually one pristine looking bookshelf, a cheap one, definitely just something from IKEA. But it’s better than the fucking floor. “I spotted it on my way in, we’re gonna bring it up for Carm.”

She groans, hating the concept of manual labour, but still walks with you and grabs one end anyways. “Why didn’t you make Carmen carry his own bookshelf?”

“Because you need a fuckin’ pep-talk.” You pick the other end of the bookshelf up. It’s thankfully not that heavy. You walk backwards so you can keep facing Syd.

“…I don’t—” “Yes the fuck you do.”

She kisses her teeth, you frown. “What’s up, Adamu?”

“It’s just fucking annoying— I keep, I keep fucking it up. I keep—Keep—”

“Doing too much.”

She gives you a look, ‘are you serious?’, type look. You continue. “You’re doing too much. You’re not cooking like you.”

“I can cook like Michelin—”

“I never said you couldn’t. Watch your step.” You interrupt, walking over a bump in the sidewalk. “You can do star level shit, Syd. But that’s a grade, not a type.”

She kind of reels, at that. You continue, “You cook great complex dishes, you always have, I’ve tried them. But now, you’re all caught up trying to prove some shit, to Carmen, to—to— Who gives stars? The tires guy?”

She laughs, almost dropping the bookshelf. “Yeah, I’m trying to impress the tires guy.”

“Fuck you.” You snort, stepping up the stairs. “What I’m trying to say is, you should make what you want to eat, not what you think you should eat.”

She nods, you stop on top of the stairs, both taking a second to breathe. “…Thanks.”

You nod back, hands on your knees for a second before standing back up, opening the lobby door. “I’ll always be your cheerleader, Syd.”

“More like coach.”

“Can you let me have one hot girl career, please?”

When you get back up to Carmen’s, he’s already grimacing. You and Syd are split apart by the bookshelf standing between you in the hall. “Fuck is this?”

“It was free and I’ll clean it!” You press your hands together pleading. “C’mon, you can even put your jeans in it!”

“Jeans on a bookshelf?”

You turn to Syd. “Better than the oven.”

“I think he’s doing that to dry them.”

“I think it’s ‘cause he doesn’t own a dresser.”

“It’s both.” Carmen clicks his tongue, single-handedly picking up the bookshelf and carrying inside. Alright, does he need to show off this much? Whatever. It’s definitely not making you feel any type of way at all.

You squint, watching him walk further in his apartment, and then to Syd. You speak at the same time. “He stays doing too much.”

As promised, you wipe down the bookshelf, making sure it’s free of grime and roadside pests. Syd and Carmy work together in the kitchen, with a now functioning oven. You load the shelf up with the books on the floor— Thankfully they’re piled into categories already, so you don’t have to bother him about that.

You’re tempted to clean his living room, but that would probably be rude, right? Don’t want him to take it as you saying he’s a slob. But they are taking a while… Alright, you’ll just throw out trash. You won’t fold blankets or pick up dishes or anything. Just trash! No big! He can’t be mad at you for that.

You pile together the garbage, then sneakily throw it out in the kitchen trash can as fast as you can, before he looks. He’ll think he’s just sleep cleaning, or something. “How’s it goin’ in here?’

Carmen pipes up, eyes focused on the dish as Syd plates it. “Good.” Syd holds the plate in one hand, and silently corrals you with the other to sit at the table. You do. She sets it down the plate before you, handing you a fork and knife.

You look up at her expectantly. She shakes her head. “Eat first, this time.”

She looks serious, so you nod, cutting into the dish. It’s different from the last one. Instead of oxtail, it’s pastry. Or at least, a puff pastry exterior. You’re pretty sure it’s Pillsbury, you remember Carmen buying that, the other day, on your excursion.

Inside it, you believe is the beef oxtail, there’s other things, too. Some sort of sauce, some greens— Oh well, no time to bask in the cross section because Syd looks like she’s about to explode. You take a bite. You nod, chewing.

Syd starts, “Searing the duck caused the bitter taste— So instead of- Of searing the outside, I coated it in the mushroom sauce, the greens— Not pureed, this time, for texture. Your basil, too. There’s a crumble of feta, for a subtle tang. And then wrapped it all together in puff pastry, and baked. It’s sort of like, a varied take on a beef welling—”

“You made a fucking gourmet hot pocket?” You swallow, wheezing. The second you say this, Sydney’s focused face beams, laughing, like she’s just pulled off the most perfect prank of all time.

Carmen was so intrigued and focused on Sydney’s explanation, that you watering it down to hot pocket and being right makes his entire system reboot. He cannot stop smiling, aghast. He's been helping Syd make a hot pocket for the past hour?

“I told you to make what you want and—” wheeze “—you make a fucking hot pocket?!” You double down, laughing with her, she’s trying to defend herself but she can’t stop wheezing in tandem.

“I— I can’t fuckin’ stand you!” You snort, covering your face with your arm. “I hate your ass, oh my God, Syd.”

“Did—” snort “What did you think?” She recovers, slowly but surely.

You shake your head, handing her the fork. “It’s sick, Syd, obviously, it’s fucking perfect… Chef.” You tack on at the end, almost forgetting. “I’m not gonna be able to have an actual hot pocket, ever again. You’ve ruined my life.”

She takes a bite for herself, nodding. She does a small cheer, pumping her fist. “Let’s fucking go.” She points her fork at you— Purely on muscle memory, and you both instantly remember the days of her testing out recipes and you pairing them on first taste. She’d point her fork to you like a microphone. It was a fun game between two nerds.

It’s a reflex response for you, even now. “Barolo. Savory, dry, red. A young one, though. Light body. Could also do an Amarone, if you’re not buried in money.”

She hands the fork off to Carmy to try it, then writes the pairings down, mumbling, amusement still in her voice. “How the fuck do you do that?”

“I honestly don’t know. I think I have some wires crossed.”

“Fire, Chef.” Carmen swallows his bite. “We cannot call it a hot pocket on the menu.”

“Then what’s the point!?”

Leaving Carmen’s place is objectively the most awkward experience— But also the funniest. You offer to wait for Syd and drive her home— You’ll need a second to pack anyways while they make their business plans.

When you do offer, of course, Carmen stutters short, almost asking you again to sleep over or at the very least stay late, but saves it, realizing himself.

Syd accepts the ride offer. You pack up and wait for her to be done. When she is, Carmen offers to carry your things down with you both, in which Syd accuses him of thinking you’re both weaklings— He does not have a defense case for this, he has to let you go. You can tell he wants to kiss you at the door, and you do too. Sadly, you’re equally down bad, but he can’t know that…

You say your goodbyes, Syd helps you load your tools and hotplate in the trunk of your car. Your phone vibrates. Text from Mister New York.

‘Look up I’m on the balcony. 8 floors.’

You look up, sure as shit, he’s out there, cigarette in mouth. Unlit. He waves, you wave back. He texts again, in rapid succession.

‘Thank you’

‘For helping Syd’

‘And the oven and the hot plate and the bookshelf (not necessary)’

‘nbd + I think it’s v necessary’ Does Carmen understand acronyms? You’re risking it, here.

‘and cleaning my trash’ Sonofabitch.

‘ah fuck. I don’t think you’re messy!!! I just wanted to help!!!’

‘I know. You’re you. Be safe.’

Oh goddammit, stupid dry texter, saying something so gah. You jump as Syd taps the roof of your car behind you, getting your attention. Watching from a far distance, Carmen laughs, though you don’t notice it.

“Are we going?”

“Yes! Sorry!” You hurriedly pocket your phone, waving one last time as you get in your car. Syd sits beside you in shotgun, her pot of basil sat safely in her lap. You drive off.

You’re half way down the road, when Syd pipes up again. “So y’all are fucking, correct?”

You almost brake check the guy behind you.

 “How do you fuckin’ do that!?”

the opening is dedicated to my dear friend and i who have sent our wordle results to each other everyday for the past like year and a half.

Things of note, one - people usually skip the shit up top-- I made a spotify playlist! Listen if you like, I'm not your dad.

Two, I know this is a self insert right, i know what I set myself up for-- Do you know the hell i am in as a syd x carmy girl writing scenes with both of them and it NOT being them? What have I done, to myself? The only coping mechanism I have is imagining in this universe Syd is a lesbian. And that is helping.

The hot pocket recipe-- Who fucking knows, if that would taste good? I think it would? In theory? I fucked with a dish from Daniel NYC, to make it into a bit. Would it work? ....Beef wellingtons do, I can't see why this can't???? Idk man.

Rosemary water w cloves and ginger does fucking work btw. I am part of the so stressed out i lost my hair brigade. Also basil does grow like a motherfucker.

We're seein' a little bit of that tenseness that comes with being in an 'almost relationship' both of them feel like they've got something they can fuck up now. Poor birds. They'll be okay. Probably.

I'm really excited for the next chapter, I don't wanna give shit away, but it's gonna be,,,,,, different. I haven't seen anyone try this kinda formatting on tumblr before, and I'm excited to see what you think. Between my moving and how complex the choreography of it is gonna be, it's gonna be a much longer minute between this chapter and the next, I fear. But listen, you already knew your ass was gettin' spoiled with a chapter every two days. Hehe.

As always, please come yap to me in the replies/inbox/dms/reblogs. I love to hear thoughts!! It sustains me, baby!!

Next Part

[bvidzsoo]

Love Me Like A Rockstar (10)

ー☆ Chapter 10: Sugar

Author: bvidzsoo

Pairing: Song Mingi x female reader

ー☆ Warning: cursing, usage of the word bitch ー☆ Word count: 13.7k ー☆ Genre: university!au, enemies to lovers!au, rockstar!au ー☆ Rating: sfw ー☆ Summary: Love. You wanted none of it. You had already been heartbroken very badly once, you didn't wish to go through that ever again. But the Universe works in intricate ways and, somehow, you found yourself webbed up in a local rockstar's life, Song Mingi. He was everything you expected him to be, yet nothing like you imagined him he would be. What happens when you find mutual understanding and have heartful conversations? Will he be able to break down your walls? Will you be able to chase away his darkness?

A/N: Hello, my lovelies! I am so-so sorry for making you wait for so long for chapter 10, but I am finally DONE with university and have been heavily focusing on my works since, so hopefully I'll get to update this series a lot more often! ^^ This part is the longest so far, and I think you all deserve it after the long wait. I feel like it isn't the best I have written for this series so far, but I'll let you be the judge of it. I can't wait to hear your thoughts about chapter 10 and please leave feedback, you always make my day when you do so! <3 Listen to Sugar before or while reading this chapter, it's actually really important as it's the song they are performing hehet. The outfit Mingi wears is the one in the moodboard, with a little change to his hair color mhmm. I hope you enjoy this, and happy reading! ^^

Taglist: @orshii @or5i @lovely-red2 @scarfac3 @juicy-red @sunaswifes-blog @voicesinmyhead-rc @teez-the-time @maru-matt @kyeos4ng @deathbyyeekies @chicksmoothie @mjlbn01 @xhexy @tmtxtf @hwashiningstar @thatfavouritesong @ateez-atiny380 @xciiiomwliah @vixensss @catchingskzzzs @tesssaurrr @ginger-mingi

⟨Series M.list ↭ Previous Chapter⟩

♫Playlist♫

            The doors of the cab slammed shut behind us, the voice of the driver wishing us a good time cut short as I grimaced, looking up at the sign of Outlaw. Well, here I was again, under much different circumstance than the first time. Now, I was here willingly, having agreed to come myself, unlike the last time, when I tagged along with Seulgi just because I felt bad for her having to come on her own to woo her crush—turned boyfriend now, thankfully. Seulgi’s heels clicked loudly against the pavement as she came to stand next to me, the cab finally driving off, and when I threw her a quick glance, I caught her smirking at me again. I groaned and crossed my arms in front of my chest, the leather jacket crippling under the action, making a quiet sound that was drowned out as a few guys exited the pub, laughing loudly about something.

“Stop giving me that look, Seulgi.” I groaned as she just chuckled, pursing her lips.

“I didn’t think you owned clothes like that,” Seulgi’s teasing was relentless, she’s been at my throat the second she stopped by my house so that we’d ride to Outlaw together, “Who was your inspiration for tonight? Letty from Fast and Furious?”

“I swear to God, Seulgi, shut up!” I exclaimed, pushing her shoulder playfully as she stuck her tongue out at me before she grabbed my arm to drag me towards the pub’s entrance, “You don’t hear me making fun of your outfit for looking like you’ve come straight out of Scooby-Doo or something!”

“Scooby-Doo?!” Seulgi exclaimed, throwing me an offended look, “You’re being foul now, Y/N, my mother bought this dress for me and I think the colors are lovely!”

“They are, I’m just playing with you because you deserve it.” I chuckled, opening the door for her as she shook her head at me, adjusting the hem of her short dress. Seulgi looked like a character straight out of the seventies with her orange and brown patterned dress, the sleeves loose at the end and the skirt a little ruffled as it reached just below her thighs. She matched some white high heeled boots with it that reached up to her knees, and her small shoulder bag was white as well to match her boots. She ruffled up her black hair even more, the curs tighter as she pulled half of it up in a ponytail, and I gave her some white winged-eyeliner, blushing up her cheeks and painting her lips a pretty coral color. She looked absolutely lovely and she was very excited to see Wooyoung, who apparently, wore similar colors. They have agreed to match their outfits for tonight, and as much as I hated admitting it, I thought it was rather adorable, and found myself pondering whether I’d do it too if I had a boyfriend.

As for myself, not wanting to feel like the last time I was here, out of place and as if everyone was ogling me, I wore something that I deemed rather fit for a rock show, something more from the twenties. My jeans were a dark grey color, low rise and flared out below the knees. I wore black boots with it that didn’t have too high of a heel as I knew my feet would hurt quite fast because of them. It took some time until I finally settled on the simple white tank top that I wore now, just about reaching my belly button as I wasn’t keen of showing too much skin. And the dark leather bomber jacket that I wore to keep me warm from the cold night is actually my mother’s, and I totally stole it from her closet without her noticing—hopefully. Accessories had always been an important part of my outfits; therefore I threw on a thick dark brown belt, which perhaps drew the attention onto my exposed lower belly, but I didn’t ponder enough on the thought in order to prevent feeling uncomfortable about it, and as my black nails were painted in a haste, they definitely didn’t look as neat as I would have preferred them to be. My fingers, per usual, weren’t left bare as I wore my favorite rings, only my left pinky and right ring-finger missing the jewelry. Not wanting to leave my neck bare either, I threw on a black choker that had a moonstone pendant, and two more silver necklaces that hung at different lengths around my neck, and some smaller silver hoop earrings that completed the look altogether. I left my hair alone mostly, gave it a few large curls as I didn’t like the way it looked straight with the outfit, and for once, I didn’t feel the need to do any strong makeup. Similar to Seulgi, I rosed up my cheeks a little bit and applied a dark red lip-gloss that would certainly come off the second my lips touch a glass to drink water. I would like to think I totally slayed this outfit, and ignore Seulgi’s incessant teasing that I was all dolled up because of someone. But she’s wrong—like she is almost always—because I did not have Mingi in mind when putting together this outfit, I merely didn’t want to look out of place again.

The air was rather warm inside the pub as Seulgi and I walked inside, then down a flight of stairs as today’s performance would be on the lower part, an after party following it. Different smells mixed in the air, mostly those sweet elf bars everyone seemed to be smoking, and the not so pleasant smell of cigarettes, the two smells mixing with the perfume and cologne of the people down there. I wondered when it became alright to smoke indoors, especially in a confined space underground, but before I could say anything about it to Seulgi, we were greeted by a familiar face. We have barely walked inside the room, Seulgi’s boyfriend was stood in front of us, grinning from ear to ear. I stepped aside as Seulgi released my hand and I watched as the two grinned at each other widely, going in for a tight hug as Wooyoung buried his head in Seulgi’s neck. And they certainly didn’t joke about matching their outfits tonight, Wooyoung wore brown jeans that were ripped at his knees, showing off a tattoo that I didn’t know he had, and his top was an orange mesh fabric with white streaks, leaving little to imagination, and I was taken aback upon seeing it. But Seulgi seemed to be enjoying it `as she fiddled with the fabric at his arms and even leaned down to whisper something in his ear, something I certainly didn’t want to hear as Wooyoung’s cheeks instantly tinged red. I snorted and stepped up to them, raising one eyebrow.

“If you’re done devouring each other, love birds, should we go sit down somewhere upstairs until you are next to perform?” I spoke up, Wooyoung’s eyes falling on me as he grinned widely, Seulgi sticking to his side as her arm went around his shoulders.

“Hi, Y/N!” Wooyoung greeted enthusiastically, blinking his eyes innocently at me, “I didn’t see you there.”

“Of course,” I snorted, smirking at him, “you were too busy checking my bestie out, which is cool since you’re her boyfriend, but I certainly would’ve broken your nose if you weren’t…”

“She’s only joking!” Seulgi exclaimed, a nervous laugh bubbling up her throat as she pressed her cheek against Wooyoung’s, “Well…mostly, she did punch a guy once because he was bothering us…”

I grinned, placing my hands deep in my jacket’s pocket, Wooyoung’s expression falling as he took me in, “Don’t worry, I was only joking, Wooyoung. With you…not with that other guy.”

“Yeah, cool.” Wooyoung laughed, but it sounded rather fake and I grinned satisfied, making Seulgi narrow her eyes at me. Wooyoung had to know I liked him as long as Seulgi did and as long as he treated her right. If he breaks her heart, I break his nose…simple as that, “Uh, if Mingi finally decides to stop fixing his hair in the bathroom and joins us, we could go upstairs, although I don’t know when it’s our turn to perform.”

Mingi, right. It seemed like after hanging out things were back to normal between us, no more ignored messages and awkward tension that drove me up the wall. He was back to his old and annoying self, texting me—more like spamming me—about anything and everything that came to mind, and I finally felt relaxed around him again. Well, as relaxed as I could be given the fact that my whole body jumped whenever I got a text from him and my heart would pick up its rhythm and make me blush like a stupid schoolgirl. I hated it, this feeling where I knew something was brewing deep inside, but I opted to ignore it. I wanted to ignore it. I was scared that if I stopped ignoring it, then it would become very real, and for that to happen, something even very small could trigger it. I desperately wished nothing more would put our friendship to test and that we just continue blissfully ignoring the lingering stares and the accidental touches that somehow have stopped feeling so accidental or uncomfortable lately.

“Ah, there he is!” Wooyoung exclaimed loudly, snickering at someone behind me, “The princess himself, is your highness ready at last? Or should I go with you and help you fix your boxers too or something?”

Wooyoung’s loud cackle didn’t manage to mask the low giggle behind me, and upon hearing the familiar sound, all particles of my body decided to heat up at once, making me whirl around almost frantically, blood freezing and body going cold at the approaching sight. Whoever that man was…it looked like Mingi, but at the same time it felt like a different person. A much hotter and sexier Mingi than the one I have known for a little over a month now, and I gulped, feeling my jaw about to drop open at any moment. I didn’t know at what to look first, his face, his body—outfit—or his hair? The sight of Song Mingi suddenly was too much to take in at once and I gulped, eyes settling on his outfit that was…revealing? Vulgar, perhaps? But it concealed everything in the perfect percentage, as if he purposefully wanted to tease the audience—me?

But at the same time, due to the innocent look on his face, he made it seem like he had absolutely no fucking idea of how hot and ravishing he looked, and suddenly, I couldn’t recognize my own feelings as my stomach coiled upon seeing Mingi’s sexy, all denim outfit. His jeans were a light colour and looked almost washed out with darker coloured patches strewn around the fabric, tightly ripped starting from his thighs, stopping just barely above his knees. But the fabric was long and loose, and it pooled around his ankles, this boots thick and tall, helping Mingi out from having to step on the ends of his jeans. Its waist was high and he wore no belt with the jeans, but a chain hung around his right pocket, concealed by the very similar denim jacket that he wore on top of his low-cut black tank top, positioned perfectly over his pecs, barely hiding his nipples. And perhaps the outfit wouldn’t have looked that crazy or provocative if it weren’t for the jacket, which was made out of the same material as his jeans, the front parts of its sleeves entirely ripped up, exposing his toned arms, teasing at what he’d usually hide with long sleeves as it was cold outside now. Mingi wore a beige fingerless glove on his left hand, and his right hand was adorned by the rings he liked most, all his fingernails now completely black with a hint of silver on a few of them. The long silver pendant sitting against the dip between his pecs definitely drew attention to the exposed skin, and two heavier looking silver chains clung snugly around his neck. And as he came closer, almost having reached us, I noticed the same little black scribble that I have called dirt the first time seeing it, was high on his right cheekbone again. It was his signature, apparently.

“Stop being an ass, Woo,” Mingi spoke up as he reached us at last, having stopped right in front of me—as I was still stupidly gaping at him—but he only looked past me, “my hair wouldn’t stay in place and I asked Hongjoong to help me fix it.”

“So that’s where he disappeared to,” Wooyoung chuckled, and I caught my jaw drop more open, so I quickly coughed and closed it as Mingi’s eyes briefly fell on me, “Seonghwa’s been looking for him desperately.”

“Those two need to learn how to live without each other, I swear to God, they are worse than you and Seulgi—”

“Hey!” Wooyoung scoffed and threw his best friend a glare as Seulgi chuckled, meanwhile me…yeah, I was malfunctioning. Completely and most certainly struggling to accept that the Mingi that stood in front of me wasn’t just simply conjured up by my mind, but was real, “Seulgi and I are lovely, thank you very much. But Seonghwa and Hongjoong are downright disgustingly in love with each other, even I can’t handle them anymore, and that’s a lot coming from me.”

Mingi chuckled and nodded in agreement, his eyes falling on me again, but this time they stayed on me. My muscles tensed and I gulped—my throat having gone too dry—trying to formulate one coherent thought. Mingi’s hair…it was still long, but it wasn’t black anymore. It was—this platinum blonde that sharpened his features so much more than they already were, and the way the front strands were jelled back highlighted his cheekbones, eyes, and even his tall nose.

“Hi, Y/N—”

“You’re blonde.” My mouth, once again, worked before my brain could agree to what was being said, “Like…platinum blonde.”

“Yeah, I’m blonde.” Mingi grinned, touching the back of his hair gently, eyes widening curiously, “What do you think…do you still hate blondes?”

Stupid mouth and stupid brain for not being able to synchronise when I most need them to, “No, not this blonde, not you.”

Silence settled around us and my cheeks flamed up, and I knew Seulgi was on the verge of bursting out laughing, and I wished for the Earth to swallow me up completely, but I refused to show any of those emotions as I forced my expression to become blank, and then cursed at my heart as it was hammering against my ribcage, my eyes fixated on Mingi’s flushed cheeks.

“Thanks,” Mingi cleared his throat, averting his eyes as he looked down, “I went ahead and took your advice, Seonghwa was eager to help me out.”

“Good, cool.” Tonight wasn’t my best night when it came to communicating, and I sighed loudly, much to Mingi’s amusement as he grinned then stepped even closer, throwing his arm around my shoulders and making me jump in the process. He veered us around to face Seulgi and Wooyoung, and I knew my whole face was red as I tried to keep my eyes ahead and not on Mingi’s exposed chest or arms, while also trying not to take a deep breath and inhale his scent—which was intoxicatingly sweet, yet somehow spicy at the same time. Good Lord, if I was a smoker, I’d definitely excuse myself and probably finish the whole package at this point.

“We’ll grab some drinks; do you want anything?” Mingi asked Wooyoung and Seulgi, who were both giving us looks that I rather ignored as Seulgi’s stare became insistent as she searched for eye contact.

“Nah, we’re good, right, baby?” Wooyoung kissed Seulgi’s cheek and she giggled nodding, shooing us away with her hand. What a traitor, I knew she wanted something to drink, but she thought she was playing matchmaker if she left me alone with Mingi.

Mingi shrugged and looked down at me, “Let’s go then.”

And before I could tell him that I wasn’t drinking tonight, he was veering us towards the bar, smiling from ear to ear. I rarely saw him so enthusiastic and smiley—happy—and I found myself unable to resist the need to ogle his profile as we arrived to the bar, finally releasing his hold on me. He pursed his lips as he held onto the surface of the bar, leaning a little over it. From this angle, and because I stood close to him, I could finally read what was written on his cheekbone, fix on. Well…that was peculiar, but at this point nothing really surprised me about him, not with a band name like Noir Zenith. Was it fair that Mingi looked handsome even from the side?

I realized his lips were moving, but I wasn’t focusing on what he was saying, and so, when he turned his head and smiled at me a little unsure, my eyes widened.

“Huh?” I found myself dumbly asking and Mingi giggled, the sound deep and making my palms ball up into fists because of how cute he sounded.

“I was saying that I hope you like sweet things.” He clarified as he leaned against the bar, tilting his head with a devilish glint in his dark brown eyes. I gulped and ran my hand through my hair, looking anywhere but at him. The shoes he wore made him tower over me, and I didn’t know how to feel about that. I should have worn higher heels to minimalize the sudden height difference between us.

“As long as they aren’t too sweet, I can handle them.” I muttered, and Mingi grinned as the bartender pushed a tall glass with something pinkish inside it towards me. I raised my eyebrows as the bartender went to take an order from someone else, pointing at my drink, “Is this for me?”

“Sure is.” Mingi smiled, and my eyebrows furrowed.

“Where’s yours? And why did he leave if we didn’t pay for it?” I mused as I grabbed the glass rather reluctantly.

“I don’t like to drink before the performance, and I already paid for it—”

“Mingi.” I deadpanned, cutting him off as my eyes narrowed at him, “This is the second time you pay for something that is mine. I don’t like it when guys do that—”

“But I’m not just any guy,” He leaned down, a little too close to my face, making my breathing halt in my throat, “I’m your bestie and if I want to spoil you, I certainly can and will do so.”

“That’s not how—” I took a deep breath and gave in at last when he started bating his eyebrows at me, making me huff, “Fine, thank you, Mingi.”

“You’re very welcome,” He grinned and poked my cheek, making me yank my head away as I threw a glare at him, “Now taste it so that I know you like it.”

“And if I don’t?” I teased as I took the straw between my lips and took a tentative sip.

“I’ll order something else, then.” Mingi pouted, watching me closely as I took a longer sip, humming at the strawberry-like taste of the drink. It wasn’t bad, and I couldn’t exactly taste the alcohol in it, so that was good.

“It’s tasty, so you don’t have to order anything else for me.” I tried to hide my smile as I took another sip, and Mingi looked pleased with himself as his hand glided across the bar slowly as he bit his lower lip and looked down. It was a rather unusual reaction from him, and as he cleared his throat, he suddenly touched the sleeve of my jacket, making my grip tighten around the glass.

“You look really good tonight.” His voice was low, and thus deeper, and I felt my breath get stuck in my throat for a second before I took a sip way too big of my drink, nodding at Mingi, and averting my eyes.

“Thank you,” My voice sounded a little raspy, and I quickly cleared my throat, “You—you look good too. Like…way too good.”

Mingi bit his bottom lip as his eyes bore into mine, almost making me choke on my sweet drink, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he gulped rather loudly. He opened his mouth to say something, but someone appeared to our left, thankfully saving us from saying anything else that would make everything even more awkward than it already was.

“Mingi,” The tall man touched Mingi’s shoulder while offering me a soft smile, it was Seonghwa, “five minutes and we’re starting. Let’s go, and hi, Y/N, lovely seeing you again!”

I forcibly gulped down the drink and nodded at Seonghwa, albeit with my cheeks still tinged red, “Hello, good to see you too.”

Seonghwa grinned, looking rather happy, and then he turned around and waved someone over. I watched curiously as a man shorter than both Mingi and Seonghwa—even myself—walked over, looking rather expensive and high-class for a place like Outlaw, “Hongjoong, dear, mind staying with Y/N? I don’t want you to stand to the side alone, again.”

“Whatever you wish for, my love.” My eyebrows rose unintentionally as I looked at Mingi, trying to gulp down the laughter that threatened to bubble up, the exchange between the two lovers cute, but a little too much for my liking. Mingi looked almost sick as he rolled his eyes, and then grabbed Seonghwa’s arm and waved at Hongjoong.

“We are going.” He stated, and then sent a wink at me, “See you later, doll.”

And the way my cheeks started burning again wasn’t just a trick of the dimming lights as Hongjoong looked curiously my way, coming to stand next to me as he leaned up against the bar. His hair seemed to be a mixture of a light brown and deep purple, quite the hair colour, but it looked exceptionally good on him. He wore light coloured jeans and vinyl boots with small heels, his nails painted different promiscuous colours. The black shirt underneath his very expensive looking black blazer, decorated with silver dragons, had an intricate design on its right side, the fabric coming around his neck as a thin strap, probably sleeveless too on his right side. I knew an artist when I saw one, and I smiled at him widely as I extended my hand for him to shake.

“My name is Y/N.” I said, and despite the intimidating expression on his face, he smiled at me.

“I’m Hongjoong, Seonghwa’s boyfriend.” My smile turned into a grin and I hummed as I finally spotted Seulgi running over to us, her eyes lighting up when she noticed I was standing with Hongjoong.

“Oh, Hongie!” She exclaimed and I almost choked on my drink as Hongjoong’s face fell, “Haven’t seen you in so long! Everything okay? You and Seonghwa haven’t fought again, right?!”

Seulgi sounded like a scrutinizing mother as she narrowed her eyes at Hongjoong, coming to a stop in front of him with her hands on her hips, “No! We’re fine, I’ve been busy with the company and couldn’t come, is all.”

“That better be true,” Seulgi huffed and leaned closer to the man, “I’ll be quizzing Seonghwa later too, and if your stories don’t match up…you’re in for an earful.”

“I feel like I missed out on a few chapters or something.” I butted in with a chuckle, and Hongjoong heaved a long sigh as Seulgi giggled.

“You should ask Seonghwa to tell you their little love story.” Seulgi suggested, and then raised her finger when Hongjoong went to interject, “It’s actually really cute and romantic, shut up, Hongie.”

“Stop calling me Hongie, Seulgi. I could be your father.” I coughed as I choked on the drink, which I have almost finished by now, and my eyes bulged as I stared at Hongjoong. How old was he?!

“He’s just joking, Y/N, don’t worry,” Seulgi rolled her eyes, “He could be our older brother or something, definitely not our father. Seonghwa wouldn’t date a wrinkly ass grumpy dwarf—”

“Oh, that’s rich coming from a dwarf herself.” I said underneath my breath, but both heard me, and I jumped when Hongjoong burst out laughing, flipping Seulgi off as she gaped at me with betrayal written all over her face.

“Suddenly, I understand why you and Wooyoung are together,” Hongjoong said once he had calmed down, “You’re even worse than him.”

“She really is a handful once she gets going.” I threw back the rest of the drink as Seulgi slapped my shoulder, making me sway. The lights suddenly started to further dim and Seulgi gasped, whirling around with excitement dancing all around her face.

“We have to go to the front!” She exclaimed as I placed my empty glass on the bar, and offered my arm to hook with hers as she looked back at Hongjoong and me with a wide grin, “Let’s go!”

As she started pulling me after herself, I felt a warm hand gently latch onto mine, and I looked back to see Hongjoong giving me a sheepish look, almost as if he was asking for permission. I grinned and held his hand back firmly, the three of us making it to the front, but not to the first row as it was already occupied by quite a handful of people. That wasn’t a problem, I feared I would’ve passed out if I had to stand right underneath Mingi and stare up at him as he sings his heart out.

“Thanks,” Hongjoong muttered once we let go of each other’s hands, “I know Seonghwa would’ve been disappointed if I didn’t tag along with you two.”

“You seem like a really lovely couple.” I didn’t feel like myself when I said such things, but it was the truth, they did look lovely.

“Thank you.” Hongjoong’s cat-like features softened, and I grinned back at him, “We met when he was interning for my company…”

“Oh,” I hummed, and then my eyes widened as it finally clicked why he looked slightly familiar, “Wait, you’re Kim Hongjoong?”

“Yeah, of Kim Enterprise.” He clarified, and my jaw hung open just slightly for the nth time tonight.

“Oh, my God, that’s—so cool?!” I tried to find the right words, but suddenly I realized that the sweet drink was stronger than it seemed so at first, “You’re an icon in the fashion industry, Mr. Kim, I’m an arts major myself and I have nothing to do with fashion, but I do look up to your work.”

“Call me Hongjoong, please, or else you make it sound like I’m a grandpa or something—”

“A father, really, you said it yourself.” Seulgi chimed in with a shit eating grin on her face as she crossed her arms over herself, looking up at the dark stage as movement was hearable. Hongjoong groaned and threw a glare at the side of Seulgi’s head, making me snort in amusement.

“Maybe I’ll stop giving Wooyoung cool clothes to perform in,” Hongjoong narrowed his eyes at Seulgi, who swiftly turned back, gaping at the older guy, “He can thank his lovely girlfriend for it then.”

“You wouldn’t dare—”

Trying to deescalate an unnecessary argument, I turned to give Hongjoong an amazed look, “You design the clothes they perform in?”

“Well, not really,” Suddenly, he looked quite proud of himself, “It’s mostly Seonghwa, I only give him advice here and there and supply him with the fabrics and whatnot that he needs for production.”

Oh, that was…quite the thing to do. Suddenly, I felt myself yearning for a relationship where both parties raise the other one up, teach each other how to get better, and support each other’s dreams. It was healthy, mature, comforting. A secure place, a safety net. Something I never had with Yunho, albeit understandably so as we were both teenagers while we dated, but it would’ve been nice if he didn’t almost completely break me while making me mistrust everyone and question their motives towards me, side effects that lingered even after all those years.

“You’re a good man, Hongjoong.” I found myself muttering as there were faint voices coming from up the stage, making me look over. Hongjoong hummed next to me, and then I felt him bump his shoulder against mine.

“Did Mingi finally ask you out?” Something in my system halted hearing Hongjoong’s question, brain short circuiting. Where did that question come from?

“I, uh, he—we’re just friends.” I tried to look nonchalant as I turned to face Hongjoong again, forcing a smile on my face. Yeah, we were good friends at that, besties as Mingi likes to call it. But…ignoring the fact that I’d be dating my ex’s best friend, would it really be so bad to give in to my curiosity? Lately, I failed to see the negative qualities I have first judged Mingi for, and I have realized I didn’t even hate him anymore. I don’t think I have ever actually hated him, I was blinded by my prejudice and held onto it for as long as I could. But the walls were rapidly crumbling, even more so after the day we spent at the café and at the Citadel, where Mingi—once again—proved to be a nice, understanding, funny, and yet calm guy, full of life. We were friends, but was that all that I wanted from him at this point?

Were these thoughts actually mine or had the pink drink finally gotten to me? I didn’t feel tipsy, albeit a little jittery, but for my peace of mind, I blamed it on the sweet drink. It made you think about things you have pushed to the very back of your mind, buried so deep nobody should know about them—myself included.

“Mingi is a good person, I don’t think you’ll find someone like him again.” The smile on Hongjoong’s lips was almost brotherly before it stretched wider, cat-like eyes warm and comforting. I took a deep breath and nodded my head at him in thanks wordlessly, not very keen of speaking up as I thought my voice would sound shaky. I had to divert the subject, all this Mingi talk was sending my mind into an overthinking frenzy, however, before any of us could speak up again, the lights went completely out, and the spotlights turned on at once, coating the stage in white light.

The crowd cheered loudly for Noir Zenith, especially the girls in the front row, and I found myself clapping along encouragingly with the people surrounding me. The stage was higher up than us, but you could easily step up on it if you wanted to, and the spotlights switched from a bright white to a dimmer orangey hue. Seonghwa sat at the drums to the left of the scene, Wooyoung more towards the front on the right, guitar around his shoulders and a microphone placed in front of him. Mingi stood in the middle, close to the edge of the stage, a huge smirk on his lips, sharp eyes narrowed and skimming over the crowd. Suddenly, he didn’t look like the Mingi I knew, he looked like someone else…like a rockstar ready to sing his lungs out and wove anyone that watched their performance.

“Good evening, Outlaw!” Mingi’s raspy voice resounded in the underground room, and everyone cheered loudly again. Seulgi was jumping up and down, grinning from ear to ear as she waved at Wooyoung, who had a faint blush on his cheeks. Hongjoong, who was a lot calmer than my best friend, stood smiling with his hands in his pockets, no doubt watching Seonghwa as the drummer sat back and winked our way. And I, well, I had my arms crossed over my chest, trying not to hyperventilate when Mingi’s eyes searched the crowd, and ultimately settled on my form, “We’ve prepared quite a few songs for you tonight.”

The crowd cheered again, less wildly than before, and you could hear more people coming down the stairs to watch them perform as silence settled around us for a second. I gulped and looked away when Mingi’s intense gaze became too much, the smirk seemingly etched onto his lips for now, “Some older ones and some newer ones as we work on more songs to play for you in the future. I know these days it’s getting even colder, but I thought we could warm ourselves up ith a song we haven’t performed in quite a while. Seonghwa, Wooyoung, and I thought that perhaps we could charm the newcomers with the song that wooed some of our oldest fans, how do you feel about that, Outlaw?!”

The girls in the front row went crazy, their shrills piercing our ears, and I felt my eyes narrow as I looked towards them, a lump forming in my throat when I noticed they were Mingi’s fanclub from our university. The blonde girl stood out like a sore thumb, some banner in her hands, impatiently waiting for Mingi to look at her for her to show it off. I gulped as my eyes snapped back to Mingi, who licked his lips slowly, biting his lower lip and prolonging the charged silence, “Have you ever found a person so sweet you became addicted to them and never wanted to let them go? So sugary that you didn’t care if you got sick, because you’d still continue wanting them?”

The lights suddenly went out and everyone cheered, my heart beating so fast and loud in my ears, it made me fear that both Hongjoong and Seulgi would hear it. At last, the darkness remained as the soft tunes of a melody started playing, starting out quietly, almost as a whisper of a promise that your lover would tell you late at night in the confines of your bed. I could feel my heartbeat quicken from anticipation, and I couldn’t help but shuffle a little from left to right.

『You play a twisted little game

But I know in a way

You need to complicate』

The soft yellowy hue spotlight turned on just as the soft, siren-like voice flooded our ears, Seonghwa’s eyes closed as his lips were close to the microphone, drumsticks gathered in his hands as he sat on his stool, leaning forward to better access his microphone. His slightly raspy voice was pleasant to the ears, making it feel like a dream like flow. He was the only one you could see on the otherwise dark stage.

『Believe that though we never eat

We still know how to feed

We still know how to bleed, oh』

He articulated the words clearly, captivating the crowds attention immediately as his eyelashes slowly fluttered open, quickly finding Hongjoong as his lips twitched into a small smirk, his white teeth sharp as they peeked through his parted lips as he exhaled the end note, blending it into an airy whine that had Hongjoong gulping next to me as he was seemingly transfixed by his lover, unable to take his eyes off him.

『Sugar, I've developed a taste for you now

Sugar, I've developed a taste for you now

Sugar, I've developed a taste for you now

Sugar, I've developed a taste for you now』

The spotlights around Seonghwa went out as the chorus came, suddenly now on Wooyoung as the instrumental became louder, Wooyoung’s voice a lot sharper and stronger than Seonghwa’s sultry and enchanting one. Wooyoung’s nose was scrunched up as he held onto the microphone stand with both hands, his sharp jaw working hard as his lines were a perfect mixture of breathy and sharp sounds.

『My arms keep you in the room

Barely let you move

Show me what you do, oh』

Similar to Seonghwa’s style, Wooyoung’s voice remained soft too, but higher in pitch and breathier than Seonghwa’s has been, veins protruding in his neck as he gave his all. Seulgi had her hands clutched together in front of herself, hanging onto every single note her boyfriend sang, and I felt myself tap my feet along to the beat and melody, softly nodding my head as Wooyoung’s eyes snapped open and swept over the crowd.

『Tonight we're second-guessed again

Let me wrap the chains

Addicted to the pain, oh』

Seulgi quietly clapped next to me as Wooyoung gazed at her almost longingly, grabbing his microphone off the stand to walk closer to the edge of the stage, the spotlight following him as Seulgi quietly gasped next to me, mouthing the words back to Wooyoung, probably knowing each of their songs by heart.

『Sugar, I've developed a taste for you now

Sugar, I've developed a taste for you now

Sugar, I've developed a taste for you now

Sugar, I've developed a taste for you now』

The spotlight around Wooyoung went out again just as he leaned forward and over the of the stage, making Seulgi gasp loudly next to me as her hand shoot out to hold onto my arm. I gulped down the chuckle that threatened to escape as Seonghwa’s siren-like voice was back, wispy as he looked over the crowd with his big eyes, smirking much like Mingi had, making the chorus sound like it had been written for him, and him only.

『Do you wanna see how far it goes?

Do you wanna test me now, my love?

You must be crazy if you think that I will give in so easily』

The soft sound of the music now became rougher as the spotlight on Seonghwa went out, and instead, Mingi, in the centre of the stage was illuminated, his outfit and hair making the girls cry out in the first row as the air caught in my throat, taken aback as his eyes were set already on me, drinking me up, taking in my reaction. His raspy voice was perfect as it matched the intensity of the song, picking up in harshness slightly at the ends, his eyebrows furrowing as I gulped, feeling as if I was on fire and unable to look away, almost as if Mingi’s voice and eyes had me frozen to my spot. Suddenly, I understood why Hongjoong and Seulgi were so taken by their partners.

『Things we buried low

Coming to the surface now, my love

You must be crazy if you think that I will give up the game, oh』

Suddenly the yellowy hue light was back on the stage, illuminating all three as Seonghwa and Wooyoung joined Mingi, their unique voices creating a harmony that had my arms covered in goosebumps as Seulgi whispered out a woah next to me, having me agree with her as I found their voices combined together even more powerful. Wooyoung’s higher tone carried the melodic line well, Seonghwa’s harmony with both Wooyoung and Mingi’s voice having you in awe of how well they worked together, and Mingi’s deep and raspy voice had a power that didn’t overshadow his bandmates’ voices, yet was distinct enough to hear it. Suddenly, as they got to the end of the line, the lights flickered for a second and the background melody was cut, their voices echoing in the underground room and having everyone on their toes.

『Sugar, I've got a taste for you now

Sugar, I've got a taste for you now

Sugar, I've got a taste for you now

Sugar, I've got a taste for you now』

And then at last, the lights flashed as the melody picked up, its build-up worth it every second as Seonghwa’s hands flew around fast as he played the drums, banging his head along to the beat, Wooyoung’s eyebrows furrowed in concentration as he played the guitar with a passion that matched his personality, and I found myself holding my breath as Mingi’s harsh and deep voice matched the instrumental perfectly, carrying every single emotion he felt. His nose was scrunched up and his eyebrows strewn together as he held the microphone tightly in his hand, leaning over as he sang his lungs out, gesticulating with his hands, having the crowd go wild for him and the boys. Without realizing, I was cheering along with everyone else, my veins burning with excitement as Mingi stood up tall, throwing his head back as his gloved hand was fisted, his sharp eyes closing and feeling the music like only he could when singing, his voice strong and defined when he needed it to be. And then, I felt myself grin from ear to ear as he faced the crowd again, looking straight ahead, our gazes meeting as I mouthed back the words without even realizing I was doing so.

『Sugar, I've developed a taste for you now

Sugar, I've developed a taste for you now

Sugar, I've developed a taste for you now

Sugar, I've developed a taste for you now』

Wooyoung joined Mingi again, his voice slightly more prominent as Mingi eased up his vocal chords, becoming less harsh and tense, carrying quietly alongside Wooyoung’s as Seonghwa continued passionately playing the drums, bottom lip between his teeth as he looked up and at his bandmates, a grin appearing on his lips as he watched them sing together. Mingi placed his microphone back onto the stand, cradling it in his hands still as he leaned close to it, barely whispering the words Wooyoung sang clearly, his volatile timbre offering a culminating end to the song as suddenly their voices cut out and the harsh instruments came to an abrupt stop, melody the same as at the beginning of the song. The lights flickered once again and as I gazed up at Mingi, a small smile formed on his lips, and the Mingi I know slipped through for a second, looking happier than a child on Christmas day. I chuckled and cheered along loudly with the crowd as the song came to a calming end, only now aware of how fast my heart was beating. Hongjoong and Seulgi joined in on the clapping, and I heard Seulgi chuckle next to me as Mingi thanked the crowd, the lights changing to a soft blue hue as Seonghwa set the rhythm for their next song.

“What?” I asked as I turned my head to look at an amused looking Seulgi.

“You keep lying to yourself about Mingi, bitch.” I gave Seulgi a look that very much so told her to shut up, and as I wanted to verbalize the same thought, she didn’t give me the chance as her body jolted along to the new song, “Oh, my God, this is my favourite song!”

            As Noir Zenith continued to perform, I felt myself get thirstier and thirstier, throat burning and forcing me to excuse myself and head to the bar to drink some water, however, Hongjoong said he’d follow after me as he was getting tired of standing in the crowd and getting pushed around. Seulgi told us to go on as she’d stay there, wanting to stay close by as the performance was close to coming to its end as it’s been twenty-five minutes since they started playing. Much like when going inside the crowd, I allowed Hongjoong to hold my hand as we made our way over to the bar, apologising if we stepped on anyone’s foot, and I giggled when Hongjoong ran fully into a girl that seemed to be in a hurry to get to the front of the stage. Hongjoong shook his head and we let go of each other’s hands as we finally made it to the bar, him taking a seat on a stool as he groaned, rubbing the back of his neck.

“These fangirls are crazy; I can’t wear any fancy shoes to these performances because they keep stepping on me.” I chuckled as I leaned against the bar, waving at the bartender to come over when he was free.

“I know, you should see them at university.” I huffed as the bartender started walking over, “those crazy baboons swarm Mingi like he’s a God or something, it’s embarrassing.”

“Hi, what can I get for you two?” The bartender grinned happily at us; voice raised high to talk over Mingi’s deep voice reverberating in the speakers.

“Uh,” I looked at Hongjoong, not knowing what the pink drink was called, “I don’t know if you remember what Mingi ordered for me, but it was some pink drink and it was really sweet?”

“Sure, got it, Hongjoong?” I was rather surprised that the bartender knew Hongjoong’s name, “The usual?”

“Sure, throw in more ice cubes though, it’s sweltering hot in here.” The bartender chuckled as Hongjoong fanned himself with his hand, and I had to agree as I finally could take my jacket off. The relief was instant, and I sighed as I placed it around the back of the stool Hongjoong sat on, turning around as I leaned back against the bar to watch Mingi from back here. The lights were a soft pink up on the stage and Wooyoung was jumping up and down as he played his guitar, Mingi’s fingers playing fast as he played the bass, while Seonghwa’s voice was light but piercing as he finished up the song, standing up and raising his drumsticks in the air once it came to an end. The crowd cheered and I clapped from the bar as the bartender served us our drinks, and as I reached for my pocket to take out some money, Hongjoong beat me to it and paid for our drinks.

“Hongjoong.” I gave him a stare, but he quickly brushed me off and took a contemplative sip of his, probably, pricey whiskey, “You shouldn’t have.”

“Honey, if a man wants to spoil you, let him, you’re not losing any rights to your feminism.” My jaw dropped a little bit before laughter bubbled through my lips, and Hongjoong grinned as he turned halfway around to watch the band perform as I leaned against the bar again.

“I can’t believe you just said that.” I muttered as Mingi huffed into the microphone loudly, hyping up the crowd even more. His eyes searched the crowd for a second, and I raised my sweet pink drink in a cheers motion for him to spot me. He smirked and then he was focused back on singing, crouching down and letting the front row girls touch him. I snickered and took a long sip of the tasty drink, watching his every move as Hongjoong rhythmically tapped his foot against the ground.

“You are an open book, honey, it’s rather easy to read you.” Hongjoong said, sounding amused, and he snickered when I looked at him wide eyed. That’s certainly not something I hear often as people frequently call me unapproachable and off-putting, rather intimidating and irritating. To be fair, I do it on purpose so that idiots will leave me alone.

“You’re like…only the second person to say that, Hongie.” Hongjoong groaned, and I grinned as I looked back at the stage, watching as Mingi leaned a little more forward, reaching out and tilting the blonde girl’s chin up as he whispered the lyrics sensually, making my eyebrows furrow. If my grip tightened around my glass, nobody had to know.

“You can call me anything else but Hongie, please, that girl-friend of yours gives me nightmares, I swear.” I was too focused on Mingi and that blonde girl to react in any way to what Hongjoong said. Mingi was smirking triumphantly as the blonde girl screamed out his name, jumping up and down as she held the banner up for Mingi. I wished to see what was written on it, but at the same time I didn’t.

“Seulgi is the kindest and nicest person I know,” I said at last as I cleared my throat, trying to gulp down the sudden ball that seemed to clog it, “She likes you a lot and this is her way of showing it. If you let her know you don’t like it, she’ll never stop calling you Hongie, I fear.”

Hongjoong groaned and took a large gulp of his whiskey, prompting me to do so with my drink as well, jaw clenching when that blonde chick wouldn’t stop screaming. I took a deep breath and exhaled slowly, licking my dry lips to remind myself that Mingi has his baboons that would literally do anything he asked them to do, and that means nothing. Maybe he likes the attention and compliments, but I’ve never actually seen him give them more attention than was necessary. Perhaps he wasn’t even too keen of them, but I figured it must feel nice when someone supports your performances so ardently. I cleared my throat and pursed my lips, leaning back on my elbows as I rested them against the bar. Hongjoong raised an eyebrow at me curiously, but I ignored his eyes on me as my eyes bore into Mingi’s, who was suddenly looking over. I tried to control my expression as the lights were fully turned back on, their performance coming to an end for tonight.

“Outlaw, you were the best!” Mingi called out, grinning from ear to ear as he did a little jump, almost as if he was celebrating a win, “Your energy is always the craziest, thank you for your continuous support and I can’t wait to see you all here again! Tell your friends and cousins, bring them over next time! I was Fix On for the night.”

Seonghwa and Wooyoung also joined Mingi at the front, Seonghwa’s arm going around Mingi’s shoulders as Wooyoung grinned and grabbed Mingi’s microphone out of his hand after he stuck his tongue out at him, “And this was your little Woo for the night, and don’t forget, only hot people listen to Noir Zenith!”

The whole room erupted into cheers and I snorted as Hongjoong groaned, holding his head in his hands as we both took sips of our drinks at the same time, “That guy is so embarrassing.”

“Yeah, I think he’s worse than Mingi.” Hongjoong and I burst into giggles as the microphone was handed to Seonghwa, who had a wide smile on his lips, his temples visible sweaty despite the off-shoulder blouse he was wearing.

“Thank you for your continuous support, we are forever grateful. I hope you enjoyed our performance tonight, and I hope to see your familiar faces at our next performance too, at which we transpire to do even better. I was Hwa for the night.” And then, he bowed deeply, prompting his two bandmates to follow suit. I hummed and looked over to Hongjoong, who was smiling proudly.

“You’re so into him, dude.” I chuckled, nudging him with my elbow, “But I get it why, he’s impossibly polite. You seem like a dude who likes order and whatnot”

“And he’s easily flustered too.” Hongjoong muttered under his breath as the crowd clapped and cheered for them one last time before they got off the stage, soft music playing in the background as other people went up on the stage to take off their instruments and to bring in the DJ’s table and mixers. I watched as the fangirls swarmed them at the foot of the stairs leading down the stage, and despite not being too many, they certainly made it seem so with how in the boys faces they got, giggling and squealing at everything they could. I watched as the boys signed whatever they were handed, and then I spotted Seulgi’s colourful retro dress as she sat down on the edge of the stage, close to Wooyoung, watching him converse with the girls with a smile on her face. Seonghwa, however, was the quickest to dip out and after swiftly engaging with the girls, he was already speed-walking off towards us, great relief visible on his face. Seonghwa wore a denim skirt tonight which reached just below his knees, cowboy boots covering his shins, a denim choker around his neck bringing the attention onto his long limb. He easily turned heads, both female and male. He was simply gorgeous with his long hair swept back by a black hair band.

“Thirsty, my love?” Hongjoong asked with a smile as Seonghwa reached us and waved at the bartender, who was quick to hand Seonghwa a bottle of water. He took it without a word and downed it quickly, groaning loudly as he patted his temples dry. I smiled and made space for him as I took another sip of my drink, eyes settling back on Mingi, who was the one swarmed most by the fangirls. The blonde was right by his arm, talking overly fast and gesticulating to him with her hands as Mingi nodded along and signed a few more things the other girls were handing him.

“I thought they’d never let me go.” Seonghwa’s voice sounded a little raw as he sighed long, looking towards the fangirls, “They are more tiring than the performances. I am grateful to them, of course, but I wish they knew how to keep their distance. I don’t know how Mingi keeps up with them without feeling bothered by them.”

“He thrives under attention.” My tone sounded bitter, and I quickly took a large gulp of my sweet drink and tried not to blush when I felt the eyes of both Hongjoong and Seonghwa on myself, looking curious but also amused, “I mean, he probably appreciates his fans—a lot.”

I knew my voice sounded strained as the blonde girl threw her head back and laughed loudly at whatever the hell Mingi was saying, and I couldn’t have felt more thankful for Seulgi and Wooyoung finally walking our way. I needed her by my side as I felt the alcohol slowly hit me, that pink thing stronger than a full-on Vodka shot. Realizing that I didn’t want to see Mingi and that blonde chick anymore, I turned my body sideways to face Hongjoong and Seonghwa instead, and was taken aback when I felt something bitter spring through my body. They had their faces leaned close together as Hongjoong had a protective arm around Seonghwa’s waist, fingers very apparently digging into his skin through the thin fabric of his off-shoulder blouse, and Seonghwa’s bottom lip was between his teeth as they seemed to be having a staring contest. I took the straw between my teeth and then gulped down almost the whole drink in one go, grinning fakely when Seulgi and Wooyoung finally reached us.

“Ey, hands off you horn dogs!” Wooyoung slapped Hongjoong’s thigh rather loudly, making my eyes widen and almost choke on my drink as Hongjoong’s head snapped in Wooyoung’s direction, glaring harshly at him. If I were Wooyoung…I probably would’ve dropped dead, but it seemed so he was fearless as he only grinned back challengingly at Hongjoong.

“Babe,” Seulgi chastised and gripped Wooyoung’s arm, yanking him a little backwards, “sorry, he’s still full of adrenaline, don’t mind him.”

Seonghwa chuckled and then turned towards the bartender as he held up two fingers at him. Seeing what I could only assume was him was asking for drinks, I quickly emptied my glass and motioned towards my glass with a wide grin. The bartender nodded in my direction, and then his back was turned to us as he started preparing our drinks. I placed the empty glass on the bar and faced the others again, plastering a smile on my face.

“You say that because you haven’t walked in on them when Seonghwa was getting—”

“Wooyoung!” Seonghwa screeched, eyes bulging out as he sprung forward, muffling Wooyoung’s mouth with his palm, “Shut up!”

Wooyoung was still going off despite his mouth being muffled, and Seulgi looked mortified as she apologized quickly, punching Wooyoung’s arm.

“I’m going to break you in half one day, Wooyoung.” Hongjoong held a menacing finger out towards Wooyoung, eyes narrowed as our drinks were served. Seonghwa took one and handed it to Wooyoung, then gave me mine, and took the other one for himself.

“Like you broke Seonghwa—”

“Enough!” Seonghwa cried out again, cheeks flushing a deep red, making me and Seulgi chuckle as I handed her my drink to take a sip. She scrunched her nose as she took a sniff and then ultimately gagged upon taking a sip.

“What is this atrocity?!” She exclaimed, grabbing Wooyoung’s drink to flush mine down with, traitor.

“It’s good!” I exclaimed, defending my sugary drink, “You just hate sweet drinks, idiot.”

“You could’ve warned me.” She mumbled, nuzzling up against Wooyoung as Seonghwa allowed Hongjoong to pull him in between his legs. I sighed and looked down as I took another sip of my drink, accidentally looking Mingi’s way. I gulped down the sweet liquid a little harsher then intended as I was greeted by the image of Mingi being alone with the blonde girl, the two of them giggling about something. The girl was twirling her atrocious hair around her fingers, batting her eyelashes at Mingi as she reached up with her other hand to touch Mingi’s platinum blonde hair. I scoffed under my breath and felt my blood boil as Mingi reached out too, touching her hair in a similar way, making the girl blush and push at his exposed chest in a flirty way.

“You think the DJ will play good music?” I heard Seulgi ask the others as my eyes remained on the two blondes, definitely trying to ignore the way my nose flared at each exhale of mine. I didn’t intend on finishing my third drink so fast, and the way my head started pulsating was a sign to slow down, but I couldn’t care less right now. The girl suddenly leaned into Mingi’s side and I placed my empty glass a little bit too harshly down onto the bar—okay, I slammed it down. If the others glanced at me curiously, neither said anything.

“Yeah, he’s an uprising DJ, he’s pretty talented.” Wooyoung said and offered Seulgi his drink again. I took a deep breath to try and level my voice because I knew otherwise everyone could hear I was pissed off.

“Where’s the bathroom?” I spoke up, voice still harsh and cold. Everyone froze for a second, Seulgi’s eyes looking at me with confusion written all over it.

“Right behind the stage.” Seonghwa explained with a soft smile, and pointed right past Mingi and the blonde chick. Great. Now I had to walk past them, what a fucking amazing thing to do. But I needed to go to the bathroom to get away from everyone and everything for a second. My cheeks had started burning from the alcohol and my jaw was tense as I tried to avoid looking at anyone for too long.

“Thanks, can you look over my jacket while I’m gone?” I asked Hongjoong and he nodded with a hum. I muttered another thanks and then squared my shoulders, willing my face to convey zero expression as I started walking towards the bathroom. The stage had been changed and set up for the DJ by now, the lights getting adjusted as more people gathered down in this smaller room, and I watched as Mingi and the girl got ushered a little more to the side of the stage. Yeah, that was completely fine, I had no issues walking past them. Why was I even reacting like this?

Mingi was just talking to his fan—flirting and flattering her, no doubt—and I was completely fine with that as his bestie. I was completely fine with the blonde bitch brushing up against him, or laughing loudly at whatever he was saying, or touching Mingi every other second, or throwing her hair back and pushing her breasts out for him to see better—yes, because I was his bestie, his friend, I was completely unbothered by it all and even managed to plaster a smile on my face as I walked past them, greeting them with a small nod and chuckle—yeah, no, perhaps I did that in a parallel universe, but in this one, I kept looking straight ahead as Mingi spotted me walking towards them. He very insistently kept looking at me despite me ignoring his and the blonde one’s existence as I stormed past them, feeling like I couldn’t breathe until I was inside the small bathroom.

I hurried over to the sink and turned it on, washing my hands with soap and then rinsing them off with cold water, then I pated my cheeks wet, hoping that the cold water would cool them off. I kept my head down and took deep breaths, finally aware of the way my body felt hot due to the alcohol that I have downed way too fast, and how my head was spinning a little bit now. The drinks were getting to me and they were making me act up—act out of character. This was certainly not me, at least not a very rational me. Mingi could talk to whomever he wanted to and he can do whatever he wants to. I gripped the edge of the sink and looked up in the mirror, finding my cheeks flushed and my lips now a darker red from the lip-gloss that had long come off, but its tint remained. I sighed loudly, shaking my head at myself as my heart kept beating fast.

“You can’t be serious right now, bitch.” I hissed at myself, frowning, “You must get your shit together and stop acting like…whichever way I’m reacting. This isn’t cool, I’m a grown-ass woman, and he’s my friend. God, I’m so pathetic, I can’t even. Get it together, woman!”

I huffed and pointed a finger at myself threateningly, realizing I haven’t checked if anyone was inside the stools. Oh well, what I did wasn’t so unusual or disturbing to happen in the girl’s bathroom. I jumped up and down for a few seconds, wriggling out my arms and patting my cheeks one last time as I readjusted my tank top as it had ridden up and I took off towards the door. However, upon opening it and stepping outside, I was greeted by Mingi leaning against the wall. I froze as the door closed behind myself, pushing me a little forward and I grunted, standing up tall as Mingi’s sharp eyes fell on me. Somehow, I got déjà vu due to our current predicament. Mingi’s face was unreadable and I took my bottom lip between my teeth before I decided to just walk off, unable to say anything to him. But, adding to the déjà vu feeling, he stopped me from leaving as he reached out, gently holding me back by my exposed bicep. I shivered at the contact, his hand oddly cool against my warm flesh, ring decorated fingers pressing into my skin.

“Doll, is everything alright?” His voice was soft and his unreadable mask slipped as his eyebrows furrowed in worry, and I gulped, trying to bite back the reproach sitting on my tongue, but the alcohol made that impossible.

“Do you call her doll too?” My tone was cold as I turned my head to look back up at Mingi, and he looked visibly confused as he came even closer, forcing me to turn around and face him. My heart was hammering in my chest, and I bit the inside of my cheek, waiting for his answer.

“Call who doll?” Mingi asked, sounding clueless, pissing me off even more as I rolled my eyes.

“The blonde girl, who else, Mingi.” I snapped and yanked my bicep out of his hold, Mingi’s visible confusion turning into befuddlement.

“She’s just a fan, I don’t call her anything—”

“Yeah,” I grinned fakely, cutting him off, “I know. She’s one of your baboons, the one who absolutely loves throwing herself at you. Really sweet, lovely.”

“Y/N,” Mingi lowered his voice, stepping so close our hands brushed together, and I gulped as I averted my eyes from his, not used to the platinum blonde sharpening his features so much just yet, “have I angered you?”

“Yes, you have.” I huffed out before I could stop myself, crossing my arms in front of my chest in a defensive way as I looked up in his eyes, “Because you ask me to come watch your performance and I come, and I even enjoy it. And you buy me a drink and then you sing all those songs like they were meant for me, written about me or whatever, but then—then you’re out there trying to—I don’t know where you’re trying to get at with that girl, but I—I—”

There was a lump in my throat and something tight squeezing around my lungs as I started breathing heavier, cheeks burning as Mingi’s face suddenly went blank. I hated it when he did that, when he didn’t let me read his emotions. I needed to know what he was thinking right now, and as I opened my mouth to call him out, he spoke up gently, “Doll, are you jealous?”

I huffed and stepped back, annoyed by his stupid assumptions of what I was feeling like. What did he know? And since when did he fathom, I’d be jealous because of him? Feeling jealous over such thing implied that I had feeling that were more than friendly, and I—was I jealous?

“No, I’m—why would I be?” I closed my eyes and shook my head, worsening the thumping of my head by doing that, “I don’t know.”

Mingi’s lips slowly slipped into an understanding smile, “It’s alright.”

“No, it’s not!” I snapped and ran my fingers through my hair as I turned my back to him, “I shouldn’t be jealous and I don’t even know if that’s what I’m feeling, I—Mingi, I always fuck up everything.”

“No, you don’t.” Mingi scoffed as his eyebrows furrowed and he didn’t approach me, but he reluctantly reached out and held my hand, intertwining our fingers as my heart started beating even wilder than before, “I won’t talk to her anymore tonight, and whatever you felt, you can take your time tomorrow and think it through, but right now, we’re here to have fun, okay?”

“Fuck, okay.” I groaned and squeezed Mingi’s hand before I released it, pulling the hem of my tank top down again, out of habit, and then I walked back to our friends with Mingi following closely after me, the first beats of the DJ’s mix dropping.

            Somewhere along the night, the shots had gotten to a number I couldn’t care to count anymore and as it had passed midnight, I was positively on the fine line between tipsiness and drunkenness. The DJ played good music, a mixture of retro and newer music, playing hits loved by everyone and I found myself in the middle of the crowd, surrounded by mostly Seulgi and Wooyoung as Hongjoong and Seonghwa often came and went, excusing themselves to fresh air a little bit too often. Wooyoung would mouth a few times that they are definitely going for a quickie, but one sharp look from Hongjoong managed to scare the goofball into silence and Seulgi made sure to keep him busy whenever Seonghwa would grin shyly and motion towards the exit. And despite being invited by Mingi, the man in question was nowhere to be seen.

It bothered me—of course it did—but the buzzing underneath my skin and the swirling lights of the disco ball managed to preoccupy me as my head seemed to swirl similarly to the disco ball each time I looked up. I knew if Mingi said he wouldn’t talk to the blondie again he probably meant it, but I still couldn’t bring myself to fully believe it as I couldn’t catch a glimpse of neither whenever I squinted my eyes to look at the blurry faces in the crowd surrounding me. And Mingi stood out like a sore thumb with his platinum blonde hair now, so if I couldn’t see him, he probably wasn’t here. Which was fucking annoying and I didn’t want to party anymore, but this Chan guy that approached me probably an hour ago did a good job at keeping me put and entertained. He was slightly shorter than me, but I couldn’t find myself to care as he was funny and actually sweet, looking out for me and sending guys away if they knocked into me or tried to dance with me. At first, we bonded over our love for colour theory and I was quick to find out he was an arts major, a freshman, quite full with life and eager to experience everything our university had to offer. I didn’t want to crush his dreams, so I stayed silent about how shitty our professors could be or about the overflowing assignments and projects they’d regularly hand out to us. But sure, university is fucking cool!

Perhaps half an hour ago, or maybe twenty minutes ago or maybe only ten? —who know, my fuzzy brain couldn’t tell at that point—the goofy dance Chan and I were at had turned into rather…well, serious. The genre of music had drastically changed and the Latino beats allowed for us to put in our sexy moves, and all of a sudden, I found his arms around my middle and mine around his shoulders as we swayed our hips in sync, giggling and laughing whenever I managed to step on his toes. He was respectful and didn’t attempt to get closer than it was necessary, nor had his hands travelled lower than it was acceptable, and I was surprised to find myself comfortable in his embrace. Seulgi and Wooyoung had disappeared not long ago, apparently needing a breather and at the same time looking for Hongjoong and Seonghwa too—no word about Mingi, maybe he had gone home already. Who the fuck cares?!

“Have I told you your outfit looks good or am I drunk enough that I have forgotten all about it?!” Chan shouted over the music, lips close to my ear as I swayed my hips a little slower, a giggle bubbling past my lips.

“You have! Like—five times already!” I answered back, laughing louder when Chan’s cheeks flushed redder.

“I am officially drunk then!” He said back, looking really embarrassed, and I pinched his cute cheek without much thought.

“You’ve said that too before!” I said and Chan chuckled, shrugging his shoulders, “You’re cute!”

“Really?!” His eyes lit up and I nodded with a wide grin, pinching his cheek again as the beat became slower, our hips swaying together, matching the rhythm.

“Really!” Before I could say anything else to him, a figured towered over us from behind Chan, and suddenly, his body was pulled away from mine, making my eyebrows furrow. And when I looked up, I became even more confused as I stopped dancing and stared up at an unimpressed looking Mingi.

“What do you think you’re doing?!” Mingi’s deep voice vibrated over the loud music as his grip tightened into Chan’s black shirt, and the poor guy looked quite alarmed.

“I was just dancing with Y/N!” He exclaimed, sounding rather small compared to Mingi’s booming tone.

His eyes suddenly snapped onto me and I raised an eyebrow in annoyance, “What are you doing, doll?!”

Chan seemed to freeze up, very clearly misreading the situation due to Mingi’s use of the nickname. This guy couldn’t real, he can’t be doing this! As Mingi’s eyes bore into mine, I glared up at him defiantly, crossing my arms in front of my chest as somebody from behind pushed me slightly forward.

“You can go on your merry way, buddy.” Mingi was suddenly looking down at Chan, releasing his t-shirt and tapping his shoulder way too harshly. My eyes widened as poor Chan looked embarrassed, and that was all I needed to step closer to Mingi and jab his exposed chest with my finger.

“What is your problem?!” I shouted over the music, my glare deepening when the usual blank expression slipped onto Mingi’s face, “You leave me on my own the whole night after you invited me here to come. You don’t even tell me where you are going so that maybe I don’t wonder the whole night whether you have left or not, and then you come over and try to send away the guy I’ve been quite enjoying myself with?!”

Mingi’s jaw clenched as he grabbed my finger and lowered it down from his chest, stepping closer to me before his sharp eyes were directed onto Chan, narrowing into warning slits. Chan gulped and scratched the back of his head, throwing me a glance that was apologetic before he stepped back, getting swept up by the crowd as Mingi turned to face me, still looking as menacing and intimidating as he had been when he looked at Chan. I rolled my eyes and stepped back, shaking my head as I had enough of the crowd and needed fresh air too. I wanted to find Seulgi and tell her what’s happened, and maybe grab another drink which would tip me over the edge of tipsiness, and then I could say I was officially drunk like Chan has been saying. Thinking of Chan made me only angrier, and I wasn’t too nice as I pushed my way through the crowd, oblivious to Mingi following after me swiftly. When I finally made it to the edge of the dance floor, out of the pushy crowd, I felt fingers wrap around my bicep—again—and hold me back from walking off. I huffed loudly and whirled around, glaring up at Mingi as he opened his mouth to speak—and positively piss me off more.

“You’re drunk, Y/N,” He started, his eyebrows furrowed and looking less irritated and more worried now, “You should probably go home—”

“I don’t want to go home!” I tried to yank my arm free but Mingi’s grip tightened around my bicep more, and I huffed, “And I don’t want you to tell me what to do after you left me on my own the whole night, asshole!”

“Then what do you want to do?!” Mingi exclaimed, eyebrows furrowing more as he leaned down to be eye level with me. I clenched my jaw and raised my eyebrows at him.

“I want to dance.”

“Then dance.”

“You made Chan go away and I don’t want to dance on my own.”

“Then I’ll dance with you.”

I opened my mouth to tell him off again for being an asshole, but paused as his words registered in my brain at the speed of a snail. Did he just propose to dance with me?

“Bet.” I scoffed and rolled my eyes, yanking my bicep free as I stepped back and crossed my arms in front of my chest.

“Bet.” Mingi echoed and then suddenly, he was dancing to the Latino songs that were still being played, swaying his hips in a way Chan definitely couldn’t. I gulped and felt a little disheartened as I needed a second to start dancing, glaring at Mingi as I narrowed my eyes at him, unimpressed by his stupid behaviour. But since he’s an asshole, he ignored me and ran his fingers through his hair and twirled around, extending his hand for me to take. I rolled my eyes and turned around, throwing my arms up in the air as I let the music consume me, only to feel movement around me as Mingi magically appeared in front of me, hand extended again.

I groaned but gave in, placing my hand in his and was instantly yanked closer to his body, a ravishing grin on his lips, crooked front teeth peeking through as suddenly he was making us dance a lot more animatedly to the song, in a way Chan certainly couldn’t. Since we were by the edge of the dance floor, we had plenty of space to twirl around as we wished to, and Mingi definitely took advantage of that as he led the dance, mixing in moves that had me tightly holding onto his shoulders as I didn’t know the steps. It was hilarious and entertaining, and I soon found myself relaxed again and laughing as Mingi was grinning from ear to ear, holding me firmly and twirling me around every now and then.

But the moves started getting repetitive and I was losing the rhythm as my feet got tired, and without much thinking, I took my hand out of Mingi’s and instead flushed myself against him as I threw both my arms around his neck, smiling up at him as he froze. After hesitating for a second, he smiled back and I felt his big hands rest on my hips as I nodded in content and started swaying my hips to the rhythm. Mingi didn’t move much at the beginning, almost as if he was afraid of doing something or grinding up accidentally on me—not that I would have minded—but then the music changed and his eyes lit up, and I figured it was a song he liked, because suddenly his grip tightened on my waist and his hips were moving expertly, not so shy to grind up against me anymore. I chuckled and threw my head back as Mingi finally reciprocated my fun, not really having to watch each other to anticipate the next move. Somehow, it just came naturally, and as I looked up in his eyes, I felt drawn in by them, arms tightening around his neck as his own ones slipped around my lower back into a tight embrace, our bodies moving like that without neither of us wanting to pull away. And as the lights flashed against Mingi’s platinum hair, my eyes ran over his features again, completely taken by how gorgeous this man was. Involuntarily, my eyes stopped on his plump lips and my eyebrows furrowed as I bit my lower lip, suddenly reminded of that near kiss in my room, in my bed.

What would it have felt like? What does he taste like? Are his lips as soft as they seem to be? The breath I inhaled got stuck in my throat as suddenly Mingi was leaning down, his lips closer and closer to mine as I continued looking at him, throat dry from both the anticipation and the lack of water my body was crying out for. Out of pure instinct, my fingers had a mind of their own as they travelled up and tangled into the strands on the back of his head, pulling his head down and closer, our lips hovering close, but not quite touching yet. I gulped and swiftly looked up into Mingi’s eyes, which have significantly darkened and were focused onto my own lips. But as I raised my head, silently asking him to just finally kiss me, he did the same thing he did when we were watching Ten Things I Hate About You. Instead of his plush lips pressing against mine fully, they pressed against the corner of my mouth, making me shakily exhale as he pulled back, gazing into my eyes deeply. My fingers tightened in his hair and Mingi winced for a second before he exhaled too, clearing his throat.

“You’re drunk, I’m taking you home.” He said, and suddenly I felt really disappointed. I don’t know what I wanted to hear, but those words certainly weren’t it. It didn’t take much for me to understand why I was feeling suddenly so bitter.

“I don’t want to go home!” I told him and released him, detaching myself from his warm and comforting body.

“Doll, it’s late—”

“I’m not going home, Mingi.” I snapped and went to walk to the bar, but Mingi caught my wrist.

“Y/N, I only want what’s good for you, please.” He pleaded, eyes softening as I shook my head stubbornly, trying to pry my wrist out of his firm grip.

“No, Mingi.” I raised my eyebrows at him and groaned when he wouldn’t release me.

“Okay, I won’t take you home,” I narrowed my eyes, waiting for the catch, “Do you trust me?”

“I do.” And yes, I did, very much so.

“Then let’s go.” Mingi was suddenly grinning, and I felt giddy as he veered us towards the bar so that I could take my jacket from the bartender, Minseok, who promised to keep it safe and dry behind the bar. Mingi waved at Minseok and he grinned upon understanding what we needed from him, and then disappeared as he crouched, my jacket in his hands once he stood tall again. Mingi took my jacket from him and thanked him, then gave it to me as we started walking towards the stairs that led upstairs.

“I’ll text Seulgi that we’re leaving!” I told him as I wore my jacket, fishing my phone out of my jean’s pocket. Mingi walked behind me and steadied me when I almost missed a step up the stairs, and as we made it to the top, I unlocked my phone and clicked on the chat with Seulgi and I raised my phone with the intention of sending her a photo. Mingi noticed and quickly grinned as I puckered my lips at Seulgi, and then I took the photo and sent it to her, saying that we were leaving, and for her and Wooyoung to look out for each other.

The night air was chilly as we somehow wrestled our way out of the pub, and I swung our intertwined hands between each other as Mingi led the way down the lit-up street.

“Where are we going?” I asked curiously as I realized he was holding his car keys. Come to think of it, I haven’t seen him drink tonight anything besides water and some blue coloured juice. Green apple, probably.

“It’s a surprise.” Mingi winked and unlocked his old Honda, opening the door for me as I giggled and quickly hopped inside, curious as to where we were going.

At least we weren’t going home just yet, the night is still young! And the moon is beautiful.

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A/N: A quick last note to show you y/n, Seulgi, and Hongjoong's outfits I have used for inspo as Seonghwa and Wooyoung's were improvised by moi lol. Also, before I do that...by the time Mingi went blonde in this story, the real Mingi went back to having black hair and I'm SO tempted to let him dye it back in this story too, BUT it's already become part of our upcoming plot so I can't lol cries but it's fine! My bestie was sick of me yapping her ears off about me wanting Mingi to go back to his natural color lol, I just don't like blonde dudes no matter how good it looked on him, I missed my black haired Mingi<3, okkk bye

[bbyobbyo]

[12:44]

content: hurt/comfort, fluff, established relationship, body insecurity, dk must be protected

wc: 665

note: idk this is what i get for watching dk make one too many tummy jokes on gose (seungkwan ur on thin ice) im sorry everyone good night

You come home to see your boyfriend in front of the mirror.

“Hey babe,” you shout from the door. “How long have you been home? Did you eat yet?”

“I just got back from the gym with Jihoon and Mingyu and they were giving me all these tips but to be honest, I could barely keep up.”

“I'm pretty sure those two are aliens and do nothing but work out and dance” you laugh from the other room as you put down your stuff. “Maybe you should try working out with Vernon next time.”

What you thought was a lighthearted joke turns into something much more serious when you find your words met with a low hum instead of the beautiful chuckle you expected.

You knew this was a point of insecurity for him, you figured as much when he insists on keeping a shirt on at the pool or on the beach. Or when he shys away from you when changing, despite you having seen him naked many many times already.

But what you didn't realize how deep it cut on the days he couldn't make a joke about it and turn himself into the fool as he often does to lift everyone's mood.

You immediately drop everything you're doing and join your boyfriend in front of the mirror, hands wrapping around his middle as you nuzzle into his side.

“Tell me what's wrong, honey.”

There's a shallow sigh before he's able to speak, and you swallow in anticipation as you stare at him through the reflection of both of you.

He briefly flashes you one of his bright smiles in the mirror, the ones he knows you love so much, but this one doesn't quite reach his eyes.

“I know I don't have rock hard abs like Jihoon or Mingyu, but I'm working on it.”

You can hear your heart breaking in your chest as your boyfriend spills out his confession.

He's so strong, you think. Stronger than anyone you know. The type of man who wears his weaknesses proudly and has no problem taking the fall for others, yet stays optimistic in every breath, uplifting those who need it regardless if his own tank is filled.

“What are you even talking about, baby? I love your tummy.”

“I- I don't know… I just thought— because,”

His gaze lowers to his fingers intertwined and fidgeting as he struggles to find the words. He lightly gnaws on his bottom lip as he shakily continues, “You really liked when I was building my arm muscles and you were complimenting me on getting stronger so I just assumed that you wanted me to—”

He's hushed by your gentle palm cupping his jaw, lifting his eyes to meet yours.

“Oh darling,” your eyes swimming with emotion, “no, I never meant it like that,” you breathe out in an almost whisper.

“Yes, I love that you were getting stronger but that doesn't mean I don't think you're absolutely perfect the way you are.”

You see his pupils widen as he stares back at you, expression unreadable as he seemingly tries to process whether or not to believe your words.

“I can't expect you to stay the same, that would be selfish of me. People change all the time, and hopefully it's for the better. But no matter what you look like I will always, always, love you for you Seokmin. Don't ever assume for a second that my love for you depends on whether or not you look like Mingyu, alright?”

You catch a tear that slips down his cheek with the pad of your thumb. Although his sparkling brown eyes threaten to open the floodgates, his widening smile that replaces his earlier tight-lipped expression assures you that his mind is much clearer than before.

“And for what it's worth, I love kissing your tummy and I will likely be devastated even if it's replaced by a six pack.”

“Alright, I'll tell Jihoon no more ab exercises then.”

[cherryfennec]

Okay I love your most recent art work of Mario and Mr. L!!! I’m just curious how on earth did you draw their hats so well?? Especially the brim of their hats?! Hats are the one thing I struggle with when drawing them! I can’t make it look believable!

Hi! First of all thank you for the kind words, I'm glad you like the art! Now as for hats (more specifically Mario and Luigis type) there can be different ways you might go about drawing them.

(I should probably mention at the beginning that I am not an expert and sometimes struggle myself as well. Despite this I'll try my best to explain how I usually approach it.)

Let's start with brims because they seem the most problematic (as I see it.)

What I'm going to talk about might already be intuitive for a lot of people, including myself, however I thought it'd be a good idea to break down the mindset so everyone is on the same page and those who have trouble seeing it can hopefully understand stuff better.

First it's obviously the idea. No real details, just the general idea. With it we'll be able to establish the basic rules for what you're drawing, most importantly the angle and perspective.

Now this is going to be pretty self explanatory but: if I'm drawing a character looking up I know that the bottom of the brim will be visible, if the characters looking down it won't and etc. An easy way to check which parts of the brim will be visible from a specific view point is to imagine it as a slab.

Now this isn't anything mind blowing, I know, but saying this out loud can be handy and save you some overthinking.

Alright, let's talk about the hat itself now!

In most of the pictures I could find of the bros hats they're divided into two parts: the front, which is taller and slightly spiked up, and the back, which is noticeably shorter. Now this kinda goes back to the idea of simplifying shapes:

At some point it unfortunately becomes rather difficult to explain why some stuff is drawn the way it is because it's kinda justified by: "that's how the real life counterparts act". Above everything I highly recommend references, both irl and ingame ones. It's not embarrassing to use them, trust me, no one will criticise you and they'll help!

Now that we got the brim and the hat, let's put the two together!

There isn't really a strict order of how you should draw things, everyone has different preferences and processes which should be taken into consideration. For example, I personally like to draw the entire head before I touch on the cap:

(I added the hair and colours for the sole purpose of this post, this process is usually done during rough sketching.)

This way I have a point of reference where the brim ends (right before the ear for me) and where I should place the middle line on the cap (it's a bit of a stylistic choice than anything but it also lets me know where the fold will be). You can find your own way and make your own rules and with time the process will get much easier! I hope this somewhat helps.

Just practice, have patience, experiment and most importantly: have fun!

[lucy90712]

Can you do a imagine where gavi is pretending to be mad at y/n and y/n doing several cute tactics to make him happy and he is just secretly enjoying it🙏🏻🙏🏻🙏🏻🙏🏻🙏🏻🙏🏻🙏🏻🙏🏻🙏🏻🙏🏻🙏🏻🥺🥺🥺🥺

My last lecture today got cancelled so I was able to get home before Pablo gets home from training. Quite often he gets home before me and he usually leaves before me but we mostly get to spend the evening together even if I have assignments I will do them sat with Pablo. Our schedules can be intense but we have made things work so we always get to spend time together and when one of us is having a hard time the other does things to help out. We are a good team together which I think has helped us stay in a strong and happy relationship for the last two years. 

While I waited for Pablo to come home I had my laptop out and worked on an essay that I have for one of my classes. I didn't get to do that for long before the front door opened and Pablo walked in and threw his bag and shoes on the floor. Straight away I could tell he wasn't in a good mood something had annoyed him and he was trying to keep himself calm. He didn't notice that I was home at first but when he did I noticed the look in his eyes soften a bit as he never likes to take out his frustration on me which he's not perfect with but he tries and that's all I care about. Today I could tell he needed something to make him forget about today so I forgot about my essay and decided I'd make him his favourite snack to see if that would cheer him up a little bit. 

Pablo has always loved my homemade cookies so I made a batch as quickly as I could and put them in the oven as they only take 10 minutes to cook. While I waited Pablo went and showered and changed so by the time he was back downstairs the cookies were done so I put a few on a plate and gave them to him. He ate one of them and then halved the second to give some to me and I can't lie they were good but they didn't really seem to cheer Pablo up as much as I thought it would. Whatever happened while he was gone must've been worse than I thought as usually cookies does the trick but I'll have to get more creative today it seems. 

In the past when Pablo has had a bad day he likes to watch a sitcom so I thought I'd try putting Brooklyn nine nine on as we've watched that together before and he liked it. Today however it didn't seem to make any difference he just sat there staring at the screen not even smiling in the slightest. I would just ask him what's wrong but I've learnt the hard way that it's not always the best idea to do that as it can just make him more annoyed if he doesn't want to talk and it seems like he won't want to talk about whatever's bothering him today. As a sitcom wasn't working I thought maybe his favourite show might cheer him up but yet again it did nothing his eyebrows were still furrowed and he had a look of annoyance in his eyes. 

After that didn't work I tried every other trick I have up my sleeve from showing him tiktoks of cats I saved to cuddling with him as he loves to cuddle but none of my tricks seemed to work. That's when it hit me that he might be mad at me and that's why nothing I do works as he just doesn't want to be around me. I can't think of anything I would've done to make him mad but then again he can get mad over the most random things sometimes. Seeing as I couldn't make him feel better and may be making him feel worse I decided to just take myself upstairs and work on my essay to give him time to be on his own and hopefully be less mad. 

I tried working on my essay but I couldn't stop thinking about what I possibly could've done to make Pablo mad. We didn't fight before he left for training and we were texting before my lecture and during his break in training and he seemed fine then so I don't know what I've done wrong. Thinking about all of that just made me upset as I never like fighting with Pablo as he's not just my boyfriend he's my best friend too there is no one I'd rather spend my time with than him so when he doesn't want to be around me it hurts. Focusing on my essay went out the window quite quickly when tears started to fall from my eyes as I was so worried about whether Pablo will want to break up with me because I can't handle that right now. 

As my tears started to flow properly I had to stifle my sobs so Pablo didn't hear me as I don't need him knowing that I'm crying over seemingly nothing. That's when I heard footsteps coming up the stairs and I panicked thinking Pablo had heard me crying and was going to yell at me for being too emotional. As the footsteps got closer I desperately tried to wipe the tears from my face so if he comes in here I can try and pretend I haven't been crying. Just as I feared Pablo opened the bedroom door and of course he could tell I'd been crying as I know my eyes and face were still red and puffy. He didn't say anything just walked to the bed and sat next to me so he could pull me into his arms which I really didn't expect. I looked up at him to see if he still looked mad but he didn't his expression had softened and if anything he looked like he felt guilty. 

"I'm sorry I didn't mean to make you mad" I said 

"It's ok you didn't make me mad" he said 

"Then what made you so mad that nothing cheered you up?" I asked 

"Training was frustrating and the guys kept making fun of me so I was just in a bad mood then I came home and you made me cookies which did make me feel better but then I wanted to see what else you would do to make me feel better but I see now that doing that was a bad idea” he said 

"So you aren't mad at me?" I asked

"No not at all and I'm sorry that I did that I really didn't mean to make you cry in fact that's the last thing I wanted I can promise you I'll never even do that again I'll always communicate my feelings with you so this doesn't happen again" he apologised 

"You better not do this again" I laughed 

"I definitely won't and I'm going to make it up to you" he said

He started on making it up to me straight away by laying down and getting me to cuddle into his chest as he knows that's my favourite way to cuddle. That wasn't the only thing he did he also played with my hair as he knows that I like that and he gave me a lot of kisses which always make me happier. We spent most of the rest of the day cuddling the only time we stopped was when Pablo ordered food from my favourite restaurant for dinner even though I'd told him I'd forgiven him already he insisted that he still had more to do to make up for making me cry which he said he was going to do for the rest of the week which is fine by me if it means I get to spend quality time with him.