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#is this how i come off my hiatus? yes

haileys-out2 · 3 months

Text

I’ve been told to make this caption from one of my photos (yes this is me in the photo). I have no control over any of this, I’ve been told what tags to use and how long the post is to be pinned to the top of my page. 😥

The post is up for three months (until June 8) and I am scared about how long I’ll get!!

P-p-please be nice. I d-d-don’t want my life ruined!! 😭😭😭

Update. If this post hits 100 REBLOGS I have to get a larger plug and dildo.

Update 2. You are all mean (specially @count-alta with your 20-odd reblogs)😤😭😭 I now have to get a larger plug and dildo. If it gets to 300 REBLOGS then I have to make a Discord server to show that I am in fact wearing the cage and plug 😭😭😭😭 this is getting both out of control and expensive

Update 3. It hasn’t even been a week. 😢😢 I’ve been instructed to add note milestones. I’ve only been given a couple for now but more will be added if any of you suggest something my dominant likes.

Update 4. I’m back from a brief hiatus from Tumblr while I settled into a new job, and I discovered that this post really took off. I now have to make discord (coming soon) and I’ve been given a new Reblog MILESTONE. If this post reaches 500 Reblogs I will have to start HRT. If it hits 1000 Reblogs then I have to find a man to fuck me on camera 😭😭😭😭. Please be nice.

Update 5: whelp it’s done. My Discord server is live

1500 notes: I have to keep myself hairless from the nose down.

1700 notes: Make an Amazon Wishlist and add 100 toys and clothes for anyone to buy. Anyone who buys them will get a free show with what they bought

1800 notes: my hair must be grown out

2000 notes: I have to resume my BambiSleeps regimen

2500 notes: Practice deepthroating the current sized dildo twice a week

2750 notes: I now have listen to Bambi sleeps every morning, afternoon and night on my days off

3000 notes: Sit on a 7-inch dildo 2 times a week for 30 min

3250 notes: I have to start using she/her pronouns

3500 notes: I have start wearing a bra everyday

3750 notes: Use a large plug now

4000 notes: I have to start an OF (ManyVids and webcamming as well once I find a better living arrangement)

4250: I have to film myself suck cock

4500 notes: i can only ever cum from anal

5000 notes: I can only wear androgynous clothing. Nothing overtly masculine

5100 notes: Sit on an 8-inch dildo 3 times a week for 30 min

5400 notes: Listen to Bambisleep hypno every time I do anal

6000 notes: edge with a Hitachi magic wand for 30 once a week

6500 notes: start using a ball gag whenever I do anal

7100 notes: Once a week I have to film myself anal training and share it to the discord channel

8000 notes: Sit on a 9-inch dildo 4 times a week for 30 min

8500 notes: I must listen to ALL hypno that is sent to me

9000 notes: The Hitachi edging session becomes twice a week

12300 notes: Clicker train myself to get horny to the thought of cock

13200 notes: Use an XL plug now

13500 notes: Only use 10-inch toys from now on sit on it 6 times a week for 30 min, once a week use a 12+ inch toy

15000 notes: I have to get either bottom surgery or an orchiectomy

20000 notes: I have to be spit roasted

25000 notes: I have to be the center of a Blow Bang

32500 notes: I have to be the center of a Gangbang 😳😳😳

14K notes · View notes

hanjisick · 3 months

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Orders.

genre. mafia au. bodyguard!lee know x fem!reader

desc. your father is an elite, high ranking official in a mafia family. after your first kidnapping, a bodyguard was hired to ensure your safety.

warnings. nsfw. fingering & sex. torture. kidnapping. murder. violence.

wc. 10k

✉️ : this is my first writing after a 9 month hiatus. i apologize for the unannounced break and i will be answering and writing again shortly. enjoy! :)

You sit in a wooden chair, wheezing and thrashing from days of sleep deprivation and torment. Your body aches, wrists bruised and bloody from the ropes, and you almost feel like giving in and spilling Daddy’s secrets— allowing them to kill you and the family.

But you knew better than that. You knew that you'd be saved.

The gunshots and cries for help weren't unexpected from above the dark bunker.

With an ear-piercing creak, the door swings open and the shadow of a man emerges through the doorstep, shoes squeaking with fresh blood underneath.

He doesn’t let out a single word as he kneels to grab your face and examine it. Your attention follows the ring on his finger. An insignia that he is part of the family. You can depend on him.

But still, you wince, sharply inhaling as his fingers aggravate your wounds.

“Don’t get their blood in my wounds, I don’t know what kind of freaks they are,” You grumble, voice husky from days of screaming.

You let him turn your head, retaining eye contact with the floor as you grit your teeth.

“Relax,” he mumbles, “I don’t bite.”

He leans closer to examine your wounds. “You took a lot of hits. How many people are here?”

He draws back as you reply, “Can’t tell you exactly.”

“About four of them grabbed me while I was leaving the house— stupid on their part, no wonder you were here so shortly,” You trail off before catching yourself back on topic.

“But I’ve only seen three different men since I’ve been here. Only to beat me and interrogate me. Don’t worry, I didn’t say anything to put Daddy at risk.”

“I heard two other unrecognizable voices. That would make nine people in the building that I know of. Of course, there could always be more. How many did you shoot?”

“Six,” he responds before looking down at your scrapes and wounds again.

You feel him caress your cheek once more, his cold skin sending shivers down your spine.

“You’re in bad shape.”

“If there’s more here, we need to get out as soon as possible. We can worry about my wounds as soon as these people aren’t on our ass.”

You struggle in your bounds, the ropes burning your already bloody wrists, “Could you untie me, first?”

“Don’t move.”

You obey his command, halting as he unties the ropes, uncovering the painful burn marks and blisters.

“That fucking hurt,” you rotate your wrists, “I could’ve gotten out without your help eventually, though.” Your voice is rough, breath coming out in harsh, sharp drags.

“Sure, you would’ve.”

You stumble to your feet as he pulls you into him for safety. He reeks of gunpowder and high-dollar cologne— presumably something that Daddy has made sure that he has the money for.

“Stay close to me, when we get to the front, you go out first and then I’ll leave right after.”

You follow the unfamiliar man out of the maze, almost slipping on the floor blanketed in blood.

You adjust to the bright sunlight— and it feels gentle against your damaged skin. It seems like time has stood still while you were captured. “Did Daddy order you a car?”

“Yes,” he answers, “Some men are waiting out front to take us to the closest hospital— which isn’t too far.”

“I’m being hospitalized?” You follow him into the backseat, finally slacking for a moment ontop of the fresh leather.

“It’s not my choice to have you taken to the hospital, it’s the orders.”

“Do I have a statement to tell the nurse?” You look at him in concern.

“Am I supposed to say, ‘Oh, I was kidnapped by Daddy’s enemies! By the way, he’s in the mafia! Who wants to arrest Daddy?’”

“Tell them you fell down the stairs.” His flat tone contrasts your own, remaining unfazed.

“How would that cover up my wrists' burn marks?” You hold up the bloody and bruised dents, “Nobody gets these from falling down the stairs. There's way too much blood— and some of it isn’t even mine.”

He raises an eyebrow, looking over to the burn marks on your wrist and then back to you.

“Then tell them you accidentally burnt yourself while cooking.”

“Are you even listening to me? Are you stupid?”

He doesn’t respond for a moment, not seeming to care about the situation.

“It’s not hard to pay them to be silent.”

“How about I tell them that I was heavily bullied at school and a couple of classmates did this to me? I think that could work.”

You two arrive at the front entrance of the emergency room, he follows behind you, strolling through the automatic door.

“I’m fine, really, I was just beaten by classmates,” You lie through your teeth to the front desk, “My boyfriend took me here to get it checked out.”

He raises an eyebrow.

You comply with the nurses as they check your weight and interview you.

“I don’t have any stab wounds, at least I don’t think so— I don’t remember what they did to me. I was held captive for a few,” Your voice trails off as you wince at a sudden pang.

You glance down at your bleeding side and are unexpectedly whacked with all of the distress that you had been repressing at once.

Your vision starts to fade, face pale as a ghost.

The man rushes over as they carry you to a bed, and he kneels beside you to review your condition. Your body is pale and cold, breathing jagged and rapid.

You hear the whispers of the staff panicking. One nurse checks your pulse, and another elevates your legs.

“I need my blood sugar up,” the first words that come out of your mouth sound weak and painful.

You look over at the man beside you.

You need to lie. But you don’t even know his name.

“Boyfriend,” you determine, “please get me a sugary drink from the vending machine.”

A subtle smirk forms upon his lips, but it vanishes as soon as it appears.

“Fine,” he rises to his feet.

You hiss as the nurses sterilize your wounds, shrieking and thrashing on the mattress at the sting. You try to stay still, but the pain is intolerable.

Footsteps echo and you find the man returning with a chocolate bar, which he holds out to you. He brings it close to your lips and holds the chocolate against your mouth for you to take a bite, “Slowly.”

“I told you to get me a drink,” You disregard his command, biting the chocolate quickly, almost aggressively.

His lips turn up, amused by your action.

The nurses finish stitching up your deep gashes and bandaging your wounds, recommending that you stay the night.

“Pay for the bill with Daddy’s cash and let’s get out of here,” you state coldly, “I need to shower and get all of this blood out of my hair. I don’t want to stay here.”

“As long as you can walk by yourself, we can leave right away.” He replies. The man takes out a wad of bills quickly counts the money and pays for the bill.

You stay speechless until entering the car.

“Who are you?”

“I’m your bodyguard. Your father hired me to look out for you after the kidnapping.”

You nod in acknowledgment. “Will you be staying at the estate with me? Or is it a ‘only when I leave the house’ kind of deal?”

“My primary duty is to protect you from anyone or anything that could harm you, whether that be outside or inside the house. I could go wherever you wish me to follow you, and I will be there.”

“You won’t sleep in bed with me though, right?”

He stays silent for a moment.

“You are correct, I am here to protect, nothing more. I will not sleep next to you. I am merely your bodyguard and take your orders.”

“Good boy,” you grin, “I bet Daddy will pay you very nicely. Why else would you take this job? How much does he give you? Either way, I’m sure you have enough to buy a mansion.”

The bodyguard holds back an eye roll. “I will have more than enough money. Not only that but he also provides me with a home.” He adds with a smirk.

“Good.” You reply.

You fall silent, allowing him to drive, taking in the past few days.

You were never worried about surviving, You understood that Daddy would handle it. But you didn’t expect to be as hurt as you were.

He could’ve saved you sooner.

“When we get home, order the chef to make me something sweet, I deserve a treat,” you state, “I’m going to shower and you are not allowed to enter my bathroom under any circumstance. Even if I’m dying.”

“You would die before letting me enter your bathroom? I get it.” He retorts.

Once you both arrive at the estate, you stumble out of the car. You don’t linger for him.

You’re welcomed by a handful of workers as you enter the home, but ignore them as you make a beeline up the stairs and towards the bedroom.

The door locks behind you and the room is silent. You feel the weariness creep on as your wounds sting. You lean against the door, sliding down.

After a moment of peace, you head towards the shower to comb the dried blood out of your hair.

You scrub your face carefully, avoiding the stitches above your eyebrows.

You wash your body entirely, removing the blood stains with soap, water, and a wash rag. Then you comb out the dried blood.

Once you finish, you dry yourself off and dress in a plain, silk nightdress.

Leaving your bedroom, you turn to look for your guard. He is at the doorway of your room when you walk out. His eyes roam around your body for a brief moment, examining the nightgown.

“Do you require assistance?”

“Did you place an order for something sweet, like I asked?” You peer at his suit, moving in to adjust his tie.

He follows your hand as it moves, eyeing you for a few moments before he utters, “I did, the chef will be bringing it to your room once it’s prepared.”

“Good boy.”

You look up at his face once you are pleased with the positioning. You grimace at his sharp, cold face. The blood was dried, brown, and unpleasing. The man’s hand relaxes on the gun holstered on his hip.

“I order you to come into my bedroom.”

His eyebrows crease. He understands his role as your bodyguard— nonetheless, he doesn’t get a kick out of being ordered around in this tone.

He takes a deep breath. “Your wish is my command.”

The room is massive, a silk-covered canopy bed sits in the center of it. He pays no mind to looking around, concentrating on the job at hand.

“Sit down on my bed,” you demand, steering towards the bathroom and pushing open the double doors.

He obeys your orders without question, crossing his legs, and keeping his hand resting beside his gun.

The bodyguard keeps a close, attentive eye on the doors, supervising the way that you soak a washrag with warm water, squeezing out the excess.

You sit beside him, grabbing his chin and leaning into his face. He tenses.

“Relax, I don’t bite,” you smirk, reiterating his first words from the moment he met you back to him, massaging the dried blood off of his face, “No guard of mine will have a messy appearance.”

You can tell that he feels uneasy, but he can’t reject you. If you wish for him to relax, he will make an effort to relax.

You can’t help but notice his complexion when he isn’t scowling. The apathy melts away as you wipe the dried blood, giving you a new perspective on his appearance.

“You’re handsome,” you state bluntly, “Especially without blood covering your face.”

You toss the rag into the laundry basket carelessly, waiting for a maid to take care of it.

“Thank you.”

“What is your name? You never told me.”

His eyebrows arch slightly at the question.“It’s Minho.”

“I am Y/N,” You reply, holding out your hand to shake his own. His grip is firm and warm.

He keeps a stoic face as he glances at your face and back at your hand, as if he is searching for an ulterior motive behind this handshake.

The food.

The bell rings and the sound of it shatters the stillness of the room. Minho’s head jolts towards the door, hand back on his gun.

He rises instantly, opening it to reveal the maid with a tray of sweet snacks.

He takes it from her. “I will bring it in.”

“What a good boy, Minho,” you praise, clapping your hands together as he sets the tray on your lap.

“I don’t take you for a man who enjoys sweet food much. Do you like sweets?”

“Sometimes.”

You unwrap a piece of high-dollar chocolate, “I command you to open your mouth.”

Minho can’t deny you, it would be disobeying your orders.

He opens his mouth as the chocolate is positioned between his lips.

You relish in the chocolates with Minho and once finished, you set the tray on the floor for a maid to pick up at sunrise.

“I don’t think I mind you being around all that much, Daddy makes good decisions.” You lay down on the mattress.

“Your father does make good decisions.”

His gaze wavered on your face until you drifted off to sleep. Only then did they slowly trail down to your body.

The way your body was built captivated him. Minho was glued to your sleeping form.

He stayed in the room, taking a seat on a chair in the corner to watch you.

He didn’t know how long it had been since you had dozed off, but by the way that the room was now pitch black and noiseless aside from your figure rising and falling, he would imagine that it had been a couple of hours.

“How long are you going to sit there?” Your sleep-filled voice questions him, causing him to snap out of his daze, hand reaching for his gun out of instinct.

“Do you sleep? Are you allowed to sleep?”

“I will only remain in the room as long as you order me to. I do sleep,” He replies, “Now is there anything else you need my assistance with? Or can I return to my duties?”

“So you’re only staying in the room because I ordered you two hours ago?” There’s a tinge of dismay in your voice, but it was masked by sleep, “You can leave if you want, I don’t mind.”

Minho felt a sudden pit in his stomach. You sounded disappointed by his statement.

Your words are perplexing him, and he can’t conclude what you want from him. To stay or to go?

“Should I stay for a bit longer?”

You were already asleep again once he had responded.

You and Minho both wake to a maid opening the blinds and ringing a bell. You groan, stretching your body.

“Miss, let’s get you dressed for today.”

She pulls your nightgown up above your head as Minho’s eyes wander toward your laced underwear.

“What’s on my schedule for today?”

He quickly forces his gaze to look away and stares back at the maid.

“We want you to heal from your injuries, miss,” she answers, “we will start with a nutritious breakfast to encourage recovery, and attend to your injuries, and then you will speak with Daddy about your incident.”

The maid buttons your fitted dress, glancing in Minho’s direction, “Your bodyguard will need to be there for your conversation with Daddy.”

“He will?”

“He needs to tell Daddy what he witnessed from the facility.”

You nod, following her lead down the stairs and towards the breakfast table.

Minho follows suit, remaining at your side the entire time and he watches you eat, staying observant and cautious.

“Are you hungry?”

This question catches Minho off guard.

“No.” He adds in a dull tone— but in actuality, he is starving. He was entrusted to watch over you. He shouldn’t eat on the clock.

“Maid, go order,” You look Minho up and down, “A side of crepes. Blueberry crepes. And two cups of coffee.”

The maid hurries to the kitchen to place the order, and it is brought out a couple of minutes later.

He stares at the crepes being placed on the table, and his belly grumbles. “Thank you.”

The maid carries the mugs of coffee to the table. But it doesn’t take Minho long to catch sight of her cunning smile and the perplexing liquid that the maid slipped into the mugs of coffee.

He stares quietly, calculating his next action.

“Don’t drink it.”

“Why not?”

Minho’s sight narrows as you bring the cup of coffee to your lips.

This time, his tone is warning and direct. “It’s better that you don’t.”

You halt your sip at his harsh command.

The maid pulls out a handgun swiftly after realizing that she has been caught, aiming it at you.

A switch swiftly flips inside of him.

He lunges forward, grabbing the woman’s wrist and twisting the gun to the right, snapping a couple of fingers in the process.

It’s a rapid movement, and he had little time to think before shooting her in the head, watching the life leave her body. His face is apathetic and almost casual.

The maid’s blood spilled onto the floor as the others ran to clean it up.

“He passed the test, we can keep him. A promising guard so far,” Daddy compliments from behind you, “Urgently acting to protect. He knew that she was mindless and weak. He comprehends crises well.”

The older man slips a wad of cash into the breast pocket of Minho’s suit. “Good on protecting her. That was a setup with a stupid maid who was just aching to betray us. You will have the same fate if you are wavered by another team.”

“I think he’s a good boy. He won’t betray me.”

“Y/N, meet me at my office. Guard, follow her.” He swiftly turns away to lead the two of you as you eye Minho.

“You can relax now. No more tests.”

He nods in understanding, heeding silently towards the office.

“Tell me about what you saw at the facility.”

You nod. “Four men had taken me from our garden entrance and used Chloroform to knock me unconscious. I woke up in their van, where my hands and legs were tied. I heard them talking about what they planned to get out of me. They had intentions of murdering me if they got to a week of no answers.”

Minho listens to your explanation with hawk-like eyes, paying close attention to all the details and descriptions.

You clear your throat, running your fingers across your bruised wrist, “I was tied to a chair in their questioning room, and they used forms of torture for me to open up.”

“I was deprived of sleep and beaten if they caught me closing my eyes— trying to get my lack of sleep to cause me to open up about your activities.”

Daddy nodded solemnly, leaning into his chair.

“Waterboarding was their favorite method, but they enjoyed beating me. I assume that was mainly for fun.”

You continued, “Minho appeared and killed a couple of them and saved me, but most are still alive.”

“Still alive? You didn’t find and kill them, bodyguard, why?” Daddy’s intense eyes moved toward Minho, who appeared unbothered.

The fact that he missed a few guys is enough to drive him crazy.

“I had to get her to safety as soon as possible.”

Daddy merely nods. “I will send my men after them. Y/N, did you get any names?”

“They wouldn’t tell me anything about themselves, but I saw a couple of signs of their rival gang.”

“Guard,” he veered towards Minho, “Describe the faces that you saw. I need as much information as possible.”

“They look to be between the ages of 20 to 30, their faces covered in scars. One man had dark skin, and his facial scars were faded. His most notable feature was a slit across his brow. He wore a dark suit. I left him alive but with a bullet in his arm. The other man had a lighter skin tone and his scars were similar to knife wounds. He had gotten away.”

The boss nods.

“Good. I can work with that. Never let my little girl get into trouble like that again, alright?”

The second the words ‘my little girl’ leave his mouth, Minho can’t help but gaze at you. He observes your reactions and motions.

His heart beats by hearing his boss call you that, and his attention is now focused on every single twitch that you make.

“The nurses will be waiting in her bedroom shortly. Be good and do as they say.” He adds, snapping Minho back to him.

“Guard, do not let her go against any of the nurses' rules. She can be convincing. Do not give into it.”

“Yes Sir.”

You roll your eyes, turning away to leave the room.

“Stay safe.” That is the last utterance of the boss before you drag Minho out of the room and towards the bedroom.

“Sit on the bed,” a nurse commands you, and you quickly obey.

She dabs at your abdomen stitches with antiseptic soap and your eyebrows furrow.

“You can’t move around much, got it? No exercising for three weeks until we get these stitches out.”

You agree as she moves on to your wrists, rubbing cream into them, “You’re going to visit us twice a day for six days until the healing is almost complete.”

She yanks a bandage off of your face, causing you to groan in pain. She rubs another ointment on it before substituting it with fresh dressing.

Minho supervises each step that the nurse takes, noticing how she takes care of your body as if it’s her most precious gift.

She turns to Minho, “I need you to make sure that she’s well rested, drinking enough water, and not doing many straining activities. Take her back here once again in the evening, and then we will see her again this time tomorrow morning, got it?”

“Yes, I will take care of her.”

“What about him, nurse?” You eye the small cuts across his face and hands.

She smiles and leans over to you. “He is well trained. Trust me, he’ll survive a few scratches.”

Your eyes narrow. “I order you to treat his wounds to the best of your abilities.”

She sighs. “Yes ma’am.”

She moves towards Minho and checks his wounds, patching the ones that were newly caused. She brushes his face softly with an ointment.

“I don’t like it when my guards don’t keep up a good appearance,” you try to explain away your worry for him, “and being injured will only slow you down when protecting me.”

The man stares straight ahead, listening carefully. “I’m fine. I’ll recover just fine. I don’t need much care as you do.”

“Let her rest now,” the nurse tells Minho, “order the maids to bring her a glass of water and have her sip on it until lunchtime.”

Once she leaves, Minho turns towards you, “I’ll make sure the maids bring you water. You need to stay hydrated”

Once water is on your table, your gaze returns to Minho

“Now, I order you to sit down on my bed with me.”

He examines you with a neutral expression and waits for you to say what you mean, not wishing to assume or take anything wrongly.

“Sit down with me,” you demand again, patting the spot beside you, waiting for him to follow suit.

As soon as you ask him to, Minho does not waver. He sits down beside you, body brushing your own.

You turn to meet his cold expression with intensity. “Do you like your job so far?

Minho is taken off guard by your switch of topic. He stays where he is sitting, but turns his body as well and faces you.

“I enjoy my duties.”

“Good. Because I’m fond of you. You’re handsome, and you are good at your job.”

He stares at you with slight surprise. “Thank you.”

Your hands grab for his, playing with the ring on his finger.

Then, you reach your hands higher, tugging his sleeve up to reveal a cluster of scars littered across his forearm.

“How long have you been in the business?”

“Since I was fourteen. I was trained from a very young age.”

“Have you always been in Daddy’s family?”

“I was loyal to your Daddy from the moment I knew what this life was like. I haven’t had a moment of doubt.”

“Good. That means you won’t leave us, right?”

“I will serve your family until my last breath. You have nothing to fear about that.”

“What a good boy,” you reach to ruffle his hair, landing a swift kiss on his sliced cheek. “That’s exactly what I like to hear.”

Minho stiffens.

“I order you to take off your jacket. I want to see your body. To see if you’re strong enough to be a good guard.”

Your words are sharp as a knife and they cut deep through his defense system. His jaw clamps and his breathing accelerates.

Minho swallows his breath, nodding his head. His movements are rigid, starting to cautiously peel off his jacket. It takes him a moment to unbutton it, but once his jacket is off, he stays there, waiting.

You slide his jacket to the floor, touching the muscles of his bicep through his button-down. “You’re fit. That’s good.”

Minho yearns for you to keep feeling him. To keep praising him. He swallows. Your words sound like a honey trap to him, and it’s working as intended.

“I order you to take off your tie.”

“Yes.”

That is all that he says, slowly slipping his tie from underneath his collar and tossing it aside.

Unexpectedly, you’re climbing on top of his body. “Take off your button-down.”

He unbuttons his shirt as your eyes sear into his chest. He is now only wearing a black undershirt.

“So many clothes,” you sigh out, groping his bare arms. You run your hands across his biceps, listening to him shudder underneath the touch.

“Take off your undershirt now. I want to see your chest.”

You can feel the heat radiating off him as he shivers. His body is now sensitive, and your hands are making it worse for him.

Your orders are evident, and he hastily lifts off his undershirt, waiting for what is next.

You can see his whole chest with all of its blemishes, with every muscle covered in sweat, exposed for you.

Your hands travel down his chest and abdomen, feeling each ragged scar with your bruised fingers. The delicate contact causes his breath to catch and a soft groan leaves him, fighting to not show that he relishes in your touch.

“Let me kiss you.”

He stares at you for a moment before his eyebrows slightly shift— his way of showing you that he approves of that request.

Minho leans in slightly and closes his eyes, gently placing a timid kiss on your lips.

You smirk against him, pushing him to lie against the bed frame and deepening the kiss. Your hands reach for his dark hair, clasping a handful in your grip.

He kisses you deeply and wraps his arms around you to pull you in closer, offering full control to you. His breath speeds up.

You pull away after a moment, lips brushing against his as you catch your breath, but only for an instant before moving towards his jaw, sucking marks onto his skin.

Minho quivers at your touch, his breathing speeding up once more as you leave red and purple blemishes on his skin. He bites his lip to stop himself from groaning.

Your mouth moves from his jaw to his neck, leaving kisses and hickeys all across him, making sure that he is covered in them.

Your hips grind against him, breathing heavily with anticipation as you make your way to his chest.

Your hands and mouth are touching all of him, and each sensation triggers a reaction that he tries to conceal.

Your lips hover back to his lips, staring at him longingly. “Do I have to command you for you to do anything to me? You don’t have to ask. You have my permission. Do whatever you want.”

You can see his gaze shifting from your eyes to your mouth, to your neck, and then towards your chest.

You swiftly lift yourself off of him to let him remove your dress, leaving your body as bare as his own.

You grasp onto his neck, bringing him in for another deep kiss. Minho remains silent as he kisses you, allowing you to leave him as many marks as you desire.

“What are you thinking, Minho? Speak to me.”

He takes a moment, letting out an unstable breath. “I’m thinking of what you are doing to me. I,” he stammers, “I want to make you feel good.”

“Then do it. Please.”

“I don’t want to harm you,” he breathes out, “you’re injured.”

“The nurses said to not do,” Minho presses his eyes shut as you bring your hips up to meet his, “fuck, anything straining.”

“Remember what Daddy said? I can be convincing.” You sneer as your bodyguard fails to keep his cool composure, but the aching cock pressing into you is giving his true desires away.

You eye his internal struggle between following your orders and his cravings, or the nurse and his boss.

“I don’t want to hurt you. I can go relieve myself in the bathroom.”

“I like being hurt.”

You notice his lip twitch at the comment, and you decide to provoke him further, grinding into him, and set a steady rhythm with your hips.

He groans as his head drops back, tugging onto your hair and trying desperately to control his breath, “Please, Y/N, I just want to take care of you.”

“You can take care of me in another way.”

“I need to follow orders.”

“Then I order you to fuck me.”

His eyes pinch shut as he tries to clear his head and reason with himself.

Perhaps if he were gentle, it would be alright.

But how long could he remain gentle when you were splayed out in front of him, willing to take anything that he gave to you?

He made his decision, gripping your shoulders gently and flipping you, pinning you to the bed, and surveying your face for any discomfort.

When he finds none, he impatiently unclasps his belt, throwing it to the floor along with his dress pants, leaving him in just his boxers.

You hold yourself up by your elbows, thighs pressed together and mouth watering at the man in front of you.

His hands were delicate, although they could easily snap you in half, as he unclasped your bra, leaving your top half bare.

Minho stopped to take in the view for a moment before grabbing at one of your breasts, his mouth attaching to the other.

Your whines were like music to him— something that he wanted to hear more of.

Your back arched in pleasure as he moved one hand down to your thigh, caressing it for a moment before slowly slipping his hand into your panties.

“Try to stay quiet, darling, I don’t want any staff checking on us,” He hushed you with his lips attaching to your own once again, feeling your wetness all over his calloused hands.

His thumb brushed against your clit and you whimpered into his mouth, clenching around nothing.

Minho then plunged two fingers deep inside of you and curled them. He was becoming lost in pleasing you, overlooking his own ache between his legs.

Your thighs shook beneath him, feeling him brush against your g-spot brutally. “Minho please, please just fuck me. I want you inside of me so bad.”

At your request, he slipped his fingers out, feeling your cries against his lips from the loss of friction.

“Yes ma’am.” He pulled away from your lips, replacing them with his now dripping fingers, lapping it up with his tongue.

Next, your ruined panties were yanked off of you, with his boxers soon to come after.

One hand gently relaxes on your hips, cautious to avoid aggravating your injuries as he uses the other to guide himself inside of you, a deep groan followed by your whines.

He gives you a moment to handle the stretch, but you hardly need it, already begging for him to move.

Minho cautiously thrusts, taking in a deep breath and furrowing his eyebrows in concentration.  This is the ultimate test of patience for him. He needs to be as gentle as possible with you.

Ultimately, he sets a slow pace, hands locating themselves on either side of you, letting out uneven breaths as he tries to control himself from how good you feel around him.

“You really do care, don’t you?” Your hand reaches to cup his face, gazing into his eyes that are hazy with pleasure.

He keeps his response short, too concentrated on the waves of bliss through each thrust, “I do care.”

“Is it because you’re my bodyguard or something more?”

You study him, watching his adam’s apple move as he swallows deeply, inhaling sharply. He halts his thrusts for a brief instant.

“Both, maybe. I can’t tell.”

That was enough for you to continue, grabbing another handful of his hair and bringing him in for another hungry, deep kiss.

With each deep thrust, Minho’s mind got hazier and hazier, losing himself to pleasure bit by bit. You could feel it by the way his rhythm became rough and desperate, and his pace picked up.

One of his hands left your side, creeping towards your throbbing clit, causing you to let out sobs, all of which he ate up with his mouth against your own.

“Are you gonna cum for me?” He coos, knowing that you’re too lost in bliss to respond.

He takes your whines as a ‘yes’, his thumb rubbing circles faster, coaxing your orgasm out of you.

Your walls fluttered around him, squeezing your eyes closed and letting out a lengthy, drawn-out moan as his pace picked up even further.

“Just like that. You’re so good for me, so, so good, fuck,” he talked you through your orgasm between his thrusts, chasing his own high.

His brows crease, hips stuttering at how good it felt to have you gripping so tightly onto his cock. Finally, he let go, his load spilling inside of you and seeping out.

Both of you took an instant to catch your breath, coming down from your highs.

His hands slowly traced your curves in contentment, paying attention to the way your chest rose and fell.

Finally, he has a justification to gape at your body up close.

From your jawline to your hickey-covered chest, down to your bruised sides and stitches near your abdomen, and— Oh fuck.

Your wounds.

Minho slowly pulls away, feeling a sense of post-nut clarity and fright.

His hand slides away from your body, staring at you with concern.

“What’s wrong?” You ask, your own anxiety suddenly displayed on your face, “Do you regret it?”

“No! No,” He panics, “Are you okay? Did I hurt you?“

Back in reality now, your wounds ache and your head pounds with exhaustion and overexertion.

His mind calculates the solutions to the situation— ways to explain to the nurses, to fix you, to help you feel better.

It was his shortcoming, after all. He let his urges get to him.

“Let’s run you a bath.” He pulls himself up, tugging on his boxers and heading towards the bathroom.

You hear the tap turn on, lying in bed trying to catch your breath. Your breath is harsh from both adrenaline and pain, but you can’t help but feel as though the latter is more of the cause.

You had slept with a small handful of men, primarily Daddy’s men, but none of them were quite like Minho.

He was tough but breakable. He was still kindhearted at his core— something that wasn’t all that common in the business.

You could tell from the way that he ran the bath, bare muscles glistening from sweat, running his hand through the water to make sure that it was the ideal temperature. How concerned he was about your protection, even through his pleasure.

Not many other men that you’ve met throughout your life have been the same way.

You’re quite fond of the man that you have just met.

You hear the water shut off and footsteps coming towards the room. He holds a faint smile as his steps come towards the bed. Your gaze slowly wanders to his physique.

“It’s ready for you.” He says in a slight whisper.

“I order you to pick me up and bring me to the bath.”

He nods at your order, hooking his arms underneath your thighs and back, his strong grip securing you.

You inhale the powerful stench of gunpowder stuck to his skin, finding comfort in your bodyguard’s presence.

“Will you wash my hair?”

Studying his expression, it’s hard to read, but you let him carry you and place you into the water.

‘I do care,’ you recall his words.

‘Is it because you’re my bodyguard or something more?’ ‘Both, maybe. I can’t tell.’

Perhaps you had feelings for the man, especially while he massaged shampoo into your scalp with tough hands, making sure to rub your temples.

“Have you ever been a bodyguard before?”

When Minho hears your question, he hums while he proceeds to wash you, working on scrubbing the areas where he touched you earlier. “No, you’re the first one I’ve been a bodyguard for.”

“I did things for your father before this. Not as a bodyguard, a more, I guess, dangerous role,” he dismisses the question.

“Is that so?” You fall to silence as he continues to wash you, taking his time and guaranteeing that he gets every part. He hesitates when he washes around your injuries— every stroke and movement of his hands is smooth and temperate.

“Let me relax for a minute alone,” you murmur, “You should put your clothes back on, the maids should be here any moment to take my order for lunch. They won’t find it suspicious that I’m bathing, but they will question why you’re with me.”

Minho nods and pulls away from your body.

He stands up and his feet splash on the wet floor. He takes a double take at your closed eyes.

The way your body floats in the bath is something that catches his attention. You look very pleasing in such a vulnerable position.

He leaves the room, cracking the door to make sure that you are safe.

Minho buttons up his wrinkled shirt, pulling the jacket over it and smoothing it out to ensure that nobody suspects anything.

Minho’s eyes turn to the maid who enters the room with the ring of a bell.

His demeanor is unfazed, a hand on the gun in his pocket once more. He holds eye contact, his stare intense.

He would make sure that there wasn’t another incident.

“Where is Miss Y/N?”

“She is bathing at the moment.”

She nods, walking towards the bathroom and knocking on the door.

You hum, allowing her to enter.

“What would you like for lunch, ma’am?”

“I don’t know, surprise me.”

A few seconds go by as you immerse yourself entirely in the water before rising back to the surface.

“Minho,” you call out, “What would you like?”

You hear the faint sigh that Minho gives as a response back to your question.

“I’ll just have a sandwich or something, whatever you have is fine.” He replies to both you and the maid as she exits the bathroom, fulfilling her duty of reporting your lunch choice.

The bedroom door shuts behind her.

“Minho!” You call out once again, “I order you to take me out of the bath.”

A few seconds pass before you hear Minho’s footsteps come near the bathroom once again. He grabs a towel as you stand, body bare and dripping with water.

His eyes have an intense focus as he reaches out his hand.

Minho pulls you up from the bath wraps the towel around you, making sure to cover all of you, and begins to dry off your hair.

“Minho,” you begin, “Daddy can’t know about what happened. He’d shoot you dead on the spot.”

Minho pauses for a moment, his eyes darting across the floor.

He is silent for a moment. “I won’t reveal anything to him.”

“Good boy,” you cling to the towel covering your body, “Go fetch a maid to dress me. While she does so, I want you to change out of that suit and shower before lunch.”

“Then I’ll go shower now. I’ll be back.”

You hum in agreement, stepping towards your bedroom as a maid rings the bell.

You drop your towel, letting her sift through your drawers to find decent clothing.

She eyes a hickey on your breast, along with the other injuries across your body from the kidnapping.

“Your injuries look agitated, Miss Y/N, are you sure that a bath was the best idea for you?”

“Don’t question me,” you grumble, “I took a bath because I wanted to.”

“Yes, miss.” She pulls the dress above your head smoothes it out, and clasps a necklace behind your neck.

“You’re all set for lunch.”

The moment that you come out of your room, you can feel his presence. He is leaning against the front door of the room with an unreadable expression.

He has another suit on, a fresh one. Minho’s previously muskier, dark scent has been replaced by a new, sweeter fragrance.

“First shower at the estate?” You question, “Our soaps are quite lovely and mild on the skin. You smell wonderful.”

Minho’s lips curl at the compliment, looking you up and down, “Seems that we both are putting our best foot forward.”

You look around to see if anyone is watching before leaning to ruffle his damp hair and leave a kiss on his cheek, taking the man by complete surprise. He makes an effort to regain his composure, but you can see that his cheeks are blushed from the touch.

As soon as you lean in to lock arms, you feel him lean over to you to whisper something.

“I would love to do that with you again.”

You froze in your spot, heat rushing to your thighs.

You must regain your composure, caught off guard by his blunt words, something unlike the ordinary nature of Minho.

He takes a seat across from you, watching every move that the maid makes to be sure that she doesn’t try anything— he has learned his lesson.

“Pressed Italian Picnic Sandwiches and tea,” The maid states, setting the plates on the table.

You scrunch my nose up. “What’s in it?”

“Artisanal prosciutto, aged provolone, and sun-dried tomatoes inside of a crusty ciabatta,” She doesn’t hesitate to list the ingredients, “and a fragrant blend of rare loose-leaf teas with fresh cream and sugar cubes.”

She sets the teapot and cups out, along with a carton of cream and a bowl of sugar cubes.

Minho’s hand rests on his gun, waiting for her to leave before taking a sip of tea.

You follow his action, dumping a couple of cubes into your tea and bringing it to your lips.

I finish my lunch with Minho.

“Let’s go back to my room now. I'm exhausted.”

Minho nods his head and you both finish up the meals quickly.

You both leave the dining area and stroll back to your bedroom.

As soon as you get back into the room, you feel Minho close the door behind you.

You don’t hesitate to climb into bed and lie down.

The guard looks over at you, observing the way that your chest rises and falls as you breathe. He notices every movement that your body is making.

“I command you to lay down with me.” You lean back against the bed, your body still and eyes focused on his unmoving body.

He slips off his shoes silently, slipping into the canopy bed.

You grin, curling at his side, pressing against his body.

His breathing is deep and steady as he struggles to get into a more comfortable position.

Your mind began racing with questions about the mysterious man that you were slowly falling for, burying yourself further into the sheets.

“Minho,” you start slowly, “How did you become tangled with our family?”

Minho stays silent for a few moments and you feel his body shift a little against yours.

“I didn’t have a lot of money or family growing up,” he kept his answer short and simply, “the moment that this job came my way, I took it. The people connected to this business have always stayed on the down low, so this is an easy job to keep."

“Daddy seems to like you,” you grit your teeth.

Minho turns to you on the bed and sits up a little. He looks at you from top to bottom, reading the worry on your face with ease.

“You don’t have to worry about me.”

“He will kill you on the spot if he finds out. He’s done that to almost every man who has flirted or slept with me.”

You pause for a moment. “God forbid the one he hired as my bodyguard.”

“I am not so easily killed.” The words leave his mouth with a tinge of arrogance.

“I trust you.”

“Good.”

There is stillness between you both for a time, but he breaks it by grabbing your chin and leaning in to kiss you. You soothe into his touch, smiling against his lips briefly before he pulls away.

“I order you to stay here. Like this.”

It’s not difficult for you to drift off to sleep beside him, and as always, Minho pursues your request, keeping a close eye on you. You relax, your breathing slow, and he notes all of the occasional twitches and movements that you make in your sleep.

A couple of hours later, the door is knocked on by a maid.

“Dinner order?”

Minho jolts awake from the knock on the door, a hand swiftly placed on your shoulder to protect you from any threats before turning his head towards the noise.

His voice is full of sleep. “Repeat that?”

As she opens the door, there is a look of inquiry on her face, one that she won’t ask to ensure her job and health.

“Is she asleep?” She questions instead, glancing over at your peaceful figure.

He turns his head towards you to double-check, observing your napping body.

“Yes.”

“Alright. I’ll advise the chef to prepare her dinner later tonight.”

She gives a sharp nod to the guard and scurries out of the room, quietly shutting the door to not disturb the girl.

Minho’s eyes rest on the door for a moment, fully alert now with a hand resting on his gun.

Eventually, he turns over to you. He has his eyes on you for a few seconds before leaning down to kiss you on the forehead, letting out a small sigh.

You stir at the warm touch, scrunching your face up and stretching your body.

“What time is it?” You ask groggily before burying your head into his neck.

“Dinner is in about half an hour. You hungry?”

“Not really,” you pull yourself up and rub your sleep-filled eyes.

He notices your body shiver as you pull yourself up. Minho lets out a short exhale.

“Did you sleep?”

“A bit.” He doesn’t look away or turn his head as he admires the way you stand and stretch your body, smoothing your dress of its wrinkles.

You walk towards your vanity mirror, plopping down in the chair to readjust your necklace to the center. A few marks on your collarbone catch your eye.

“The nurses will be in shortly.” You grit your teeth. “I hope they don’t notice.”

“They won’t notice.”

His figure can be seen from behind you in the reflection of the mirror. His lips are turned upwards as he watches you fix your appearance.

You pull out a couple of foundations and concealers, working on concealing the marks left from earlier.

“The maids wouldn’t, but the nurses will tell the difference between a hickey and a bruise. Especially since these are fresh.”

Even though you are busy with your makeup and covering up the bruises, Minho’s eyes are never off of you. It is a feeling that you will have to get used to— always having a watchful eye on you.

Once you were satisfied with the coverage, you rose from your seat quickly.

“Get up, we’re going to dinner.”

“So bossy.” He retorts. “What will you have?”

“I want to go out, let’s go somewhere fancy. Daddy will pay.”

He raises an eyebrow. “You want to go out when you have had a beating just two days ago?”

He asks it like he thinks it’s an absurd idea, almost condescendingly, yet his tone of voice is soft and full of concern for you, causing your stomach to flip inside out.

“I’m tired of staying inside already. This estate is suffocating,” you pull on your slip-on shoes.

“That’s how I got myself into this mess in the first place. I left the house and got kidnapped. That won’t happen with you here.”

“I guess you’re right. We’ll go somewhere nice.”

“Good. I’ll go tell Daddy.” You leave the door open for Minho to come after but don’t wait for him, yet you can tell that he follows behind silently, attending to the way your body moves in the dress as you make your way down the halls.

The door is slightly ajar, so when you knock, it pushes open with a creak, revealing your father inside.

Minho stands behind you like a shadow, his lips pressed into a straight line, gaze locked on your father, keeping his distance from the both of you.

“Come inside,” the older man invites both of them with a welcoming grin, “sit.”

You can sense that your father has something on his mind, which is never a good sign.

“I was going to call you to my office shortly, anyway.” Instantly you assume the worst.

You sit down, taking a seat in front of him. Minho is still standing in the back, his priority on you and your father.

The man looks over at Minho. Their eyes lock for a moment. “Guard, go lock the door. There is a conversation that needs to be had.”

Minho nods and he turns his head, locking the door behind him.

He turns his attention back to you, who is frozen in your seat, breath hitching.

The elite man fiddles with a pen at his desk, clicking it to drown out the tense silence.

The silence in the room seems so heavy that you wonder how neither you nor Minho is feeling sick. Judging by the thick atmosphere between the three of you, it is easy to tell that he isn’t pleased right now.

He fidgets with the pen and you wait for him to finally speak.

“Do you find my daughter to be precious, Guard?” He addresses Minho with a stern voice, finally setting the pen down at his wooden desk with a smack.

“Yes sir,” Minho replies flatly.

“Are you willing to protect her at all costs, even at your life?”

After moments of silence, he answers back confidently. “Yes sir. I am.”

A hand comes to rest at his side, toying loudly with a handgun, which he eventually pulls out of his pocket.

Tears begin to well up in your eyes, yet Minho stays concentrated. There isn’t a single sign of fear on his face. He is unshaken, calm, and collected as if he had been foreseeing this exact scenario.

“Do you know why you were assigned to guard my daughter, Minho?”

“I know the reasons.”

“There was a leak to the rivals from a previous staff member that I had a precious daughter in my life,” He turns towards you, “the one that I had climbed to the top of my career to protect and assure her safety and security.”

He cleared his throat before darting back to Minho, “It took less than a day for her to be taken from my hands and placed in the hands of one of my greatest enemies.”

Minho pays attention to every word that he speaks and clears his throat, waiting for your father to continue.

“I care for my daughter more than anything in the world. Which is why I had appointed the most valuable, honest, and competent man in the family to ensure her protection.”

Minho nods.

“Please don’t kill him, Daddy.”

The boss meets you with cold eyes, disregarding your words to proceed with his lecture. “You are my most prized possession. I would hurt anyone or anything to make sure that not a single person touches you. The men who kidnapped you are all taken care of, wiped out by my command.”

He continues. “I know everything that goes on in your life. Every meal, every kiss, every injury, the staff must report every minor thing that occurs in your day. I have eyes on you at all times, and you’re more than aware of that.”

Your shoulders stiffen. He knew.

“Minho,” his stare is burning into the other man, “I’ll get to the point. Did you sleep with my daughter?”

He doesn’t blink. His body tenses up and his voice remains neutral.

“Yes.”

The boss turns the safety off of his firearm and you dig your head into your hands, unable to observe the scene that is about to unfold.

The gunshot is fired, but the man deliberately aims to the left of Minho, grazing his cheek with the bullet before standing up instantly from his seat. The guard doesn’t react with more than a blink as the blood pools at the cut.

“I trust you, Minho. You are a good man. If there is a single person who I would choose to give my daughter to, it would be you.”

Finally, Minho takes this as a sign to let his guard down for a moment as his shoulders drop, lip quivering slightly. It was evident that there was more emotion that the guard was holding back, especially when he took a moment to look away.

“You have my approval.”

Your eyes widen.

“Take care of my daughter. If you break her heart, I’ll feed your own heart to her for supper.”

“Understood.”

“Take her to dinner,” a wad of cash is pulled out from one of the drawers, “buy her flowers and anything else that she asks for.”

“Yes sir.” He responds, “I’ll make sure that she gets the treatment that she deserves.”

You run to embrace your father, to which he places an arm around you, rubbing your back before pulling away.

“Get yourself dressed more sufficiently, I will have a car ready for you soon.”

Minho follows you out of his office, letting out a breath that he had been holding in once the door was closed.

“Did you hear that?” Do you know what this means?” You beam at the man before grabbing at his cheeks and pulling him in for a kiss.

He lets out a surprised noise, hesitantly wrapping his arms around your waist and kissing back.

When you break the kiss, he stares back at you with the first big smile that you’ve seen from him displayed on his face.

“Let’s get you ready.”

2K notes · View notes

norrisleclercf1 · 5 months

Text

Santa's Little Helper

Pairing: Dad!Lando Norris x F!Reader

Rating: PG

Words: 1.3K

Warnings: Pregnancy, other than that none just fluff

Requested: Yes/No

Synopsis: Lando is finally coming home for the holidays and decides to play elf

A/N: Yes I broke my hiatus, don't judge me

"Ready to be home?"

Lando lifts his head from the window of his seat and looks at Oscar. They weren't the young kids they were once, long gone the season of '23. Oscar was married with two adorable little girls, Lando having married you years ago.

"Of course, I miss them." He whispers. The season was finally over, and Lando could eventually join his family back home. You, of course, called him and kept in touch, but it was also hard to travel with a toddler and you being pregnant.

"Yeah, I'm flying home soon too. Have to finish up here first." Oscar nods towards the McLaren factory. Groaning, they both climb out of the car, stretching. "Just need to get through this and then can be home," Lando mumbles as the two trudge through the harsh Woking winter. Oscar sighs when the intense heat of the building hits their faces, which makes Lando melt.

"Hurry up, I've got to get back to London before Y/n and Theodore get home." Oscar rolls his eyes as he follows Lando through the factory to the meeting room.

------------------------

Zak knew it was useless to get Lando to focus on the meeting. The older driver needed to be more focused on checking his phone every once in a while. Everyone knew you were out of town and still believed that Lando was in Dubai instead of home in England. Zak could tell that Lando was losing his patience as his knee tapping got quicker and louder. Yep, Zak was ending this now.

"Alright," The CEO claps his hands and stands up, patting Andrea on the back and letting him stop talking. "I think we've had a very long season and year with that," Lando didn't wait as he grabbed his stuff and rushed out of the room. "Have a wonderful holiday." Zak sighs, Oscar chuckling, holding his own phone and leaving. But Zak can hear his voice pick up and the screams of delight from the speaker.

"Well, see you in January." Andrea laughs and pats Zak on the back, walking out.

----------------------------------

" Just, can you please try and delay them?" Lando begs into the phone. Your mother laughs as Lando frantically rushes around your home in London. He only had enough time to sort this out and needed you to be stalled. "Lando, darling, only so much I can do." Your mother chuckled, but her voice grew quiet when you passed by.

"Mom? Who are you talking to?" Lando stills, holding his breathing, thinking that you'd be able to tell it was him through that. "Your aunt sugar plum, want to talk to her?" Lando can practically see your nose scrunching up as you quickly say no and walk away. Sighing in relief, Lando rushes, looking for the rest of the Christmas decorations and the new ones he's bought.

"Really? Calling me the Aunt, that's your sister Ma." Lando teases, and your mother snorts. "That old bat will talk Y/n, poor ear off. So, why should I help you?" Lando rolls his eyes. Your mother and he constantly pick on one another, but it is filled with love. "How about I'll let you hold the baby after Y/n and I?" "Deal, I'll hide the car keys." She hangs up, which has Lando cheering.

Stopping, he looks down at his feet and smiles, dropping to his knees. "Well, buddy, we better get started." Your English Cocker Spaniel, named Cookie. Cookie barks loudly and licks Lando's hand. "Good girl," Lando stands and looks around. "First, let's set the mood." Walking over, he hooks his phone up to the speakers and smiles as Frank Sinatra's voice fills the house.

Lando doesn't start decorating right away. Instead, he starts cleaning the house. You were about 7 months pregnant, and it was hard to do some house chores. He wanted to show you how much he loves you. Lando wasn't one with words; more actions and giving. Moving through the house, he pushes open his son's room and smiles.

Theodore loved Formula 1 and Marvel. His room was nothing but decked out in its merchandise. A picture of you and Lando holding him in front of his McLaren and then one giant group, one with all his uncles. Theodore's room was covered in his toys, and Lando gets to work. Putting up the toys and grabbing one of his shopping bags, he strips the bed of its sheets. He got these cute little snowmen for the sheets. Theodore matched the sheets with the identical snowmen for the comforter he got.

He grabs another bag and takes out mini decorations. A little fake tree with Marvel and f1 ornaments. He gets to work setting it up. He hums along to the song with Cookie at the foot of the bed, watching Lando. A mini navy blue tree skirt covers the bottom of the tree and places fake gifts there. Next, Lando hands up some little fairy lights on the wall behind the bed. He puts a moose, snowman, elf, and Santa stuffies on the corner and then two red and green pillows on the bed.

Lando finishes it by hanging up a little zipline with an Elf on it and flying over the bed with a remote. "Alright, time for the main room." Cookie whines but happily follows Lando through the house.

-------------------------------

"Momma, hungry," Theodore whines as you pull up the driveway. "I know, babes, we'll eat when we get inside. It's been a long day. The baby was kicking your bladder. Theodore wanted nothing more than his Daddy. Lando wasn't answering his phone, and then your mother hid your fucking keys. "Hungry," Theodore whines, helping him out of the car; you just nod.

"Come on, I'll make you some nuggies." Theodore smiles at you as you open the front door and freeze. There greeting you was your Christmas tree covered in soft lights, ornaments, and gifts already wrapped and under the tree. "Wha," "Hey, dinner is ready." You turn your head to see your husband wearing a Mrs. Clause apron. "Lando?" Your husband smiles, and Theodore gasps.

"Mommy, Santa was here." Theo giggles and points at the gifts. "Um, excuse me, little man? Aren't you happy to see me?" Theo squeals louder, running toward his father and swinging him up Theodore, babbling happily. You clear your throat, trying to gain control of your emotions, but you can't notice that the house is also clean. "Lando," You whisper, hand cradling your belly.

He gets that tooth-goofy smile of his and walks over and hugs you. "Mommy, Daddy is home," Theodore whispers, which makes you laugh through your tears. "Yes, buddy. Daddy is home." Lando snorts, wanting to make a joke but doesn't. "Alright, there are nuggies and some mac and cheese that's getting cold." Theodore wiggles out of his father's hold and zooms into the kitchen. Lando chuckles but stops when you pull him down, kissing him deeply.

Lando moans as he pulls you in and dips you slightly before pulling you back up. "Well, hello to you too." He grumbles, blinking his eyes open as you push back his unruly curls. "I'm guessing that wasn't my aunt talking to my mother earlier?" Lando blushes and looks away. "No idea what you're talking about." You giggle and kiss him on his cheeks, smiling.

"Why'd you do all this?" Lando pulls back, needing clarification on your question. "Baby, you're growing our baby, and besides, I love you and wanted to make things easier for you. I'm your husband. This is the bare fucking minimum. The dishes are done, the laundry is folded, the sheets are all clean, and dinner is cooked. Now, let's eat our nuggets before Theo, the little gremlin, eats them all." Nodding, you head into the kitchen, seeing Theo stare hard at his plate.

"Theo, you could've started." You push back his hair, and he shakes his head no. "Daddy is home, but the elves still might be here. Have to be good." Lando snorts and plates your food, and your mouth waters and sit down. "That's right, Theo, better be good, or I'll bring back the elves." Rolling your eyes, you knew the elves were no more than Carlos, Charles, Max V, Max F, Oscar, and Daniel.

"Yeah, the elves." You remark, and Lando cuts you a glare, but it is playful. "Hey, the elves are the ones who got all the gifts. Don't be mean to the elves." "Yes, and you were all wonderful little helpers." You smile, and Lando slowly pushes back the evidence of the others helping him.

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nwjws · 1 month

Text

WAIT FOR YOU TO LIKE ME AGAIN - LSH

; SYNOPSIS - whether it be in the middle of the halls or during his election speech, heeseung's never passed up an opportunity to ask you out on a date. although you've always said no, that hasn't stopped the boy from trying again anyway - at least until senior year, when he suddenly stopped pursuing you, to your (and everyone's) bewilderment.

; PAIRING - heeseung x fem!reader

; TAGS - one-shot, fluff, slice of life, highschool au, stuco president!heeseung, vice president!reader, one-sided enemies to lovers ; WARNINGS - angst, mild swearing, light mentions of an abusive ex (not hee's or reader's)

; WC - 11.7k (including the bonus at the end)

; PLAYLIST ► blue butterflies (JIHN) ► line without a hook (ricky montgomery) ► making the bed (olivia rodrigo) ► comfort crowd (conan gray) ► love. (wave to earth)

; AUTHOR'S CORNER ! first fic after hiatus omg. also half the things in this fic rlly happened and the other half were google searches guess which ones are which 😝 i planned to post this on the 17th but i finished it just now and my brain is fried so here we goooo

you hated lee heeseung.

throughout the three years you've known him, he's been always the bane of your existence. the boy was constantly bugging you and pulling a new stunt to show off and get your attention. all of this just to ask you out on a date - something he's been doing practically every week since the age of fourteen.

seriously, after a hundred 'no's you'd think he'd learn to back off. and yet, he was still persistent in pursuing you.

at least, until your final year began.

see, you two had been competing against each other for the position of student council president at the end of last year. unfortunately for you, he was immensely popular; an actual threat. on top of being the captain for boys' volleyball team, he was class rep. and actively helped out teachers after school. students and teachers alike were drawn in by his hardworking yet casual nature and how easily he talked to others. despite the busy campaigns and rivalry, he still managed to somehow find time to ask you out, ending his final speech with, "and aren't all these qualities worthy of at least one date?"

of course he'd still find a way to make such an important event about asking you out. whoops and cheers echoed the hall, with almost everyone looking at you. everyone knew your history, with half the school on his side, cheering him on and urging you to say yes.

thankfully, the other half of the student body understood that no means no, and were more sympathetic towards you. after all, it's not like you were disliked or anything - you were as well known as h*es*ung.

you yourself had led the school to win several math competitions over the years, and tutored over ten students in your highschool career (get that money girl!). in addition, you were already on the council as the treasurer.

yet, it was his last sentence that one the people over and he'd been chosen as the president, with you as vice.

"just say yes. one date won't hurt," ningning had chuckled when you complained again, once she'd come back from her summer camp.

"my pride and reputation of always saying no will be."

"maybe he'll back off if you do?"

"no number of rejections has stopped him, how would a 'yes' do that?"

"maybe he'll realise you're absolutely undateable," she laughed at you, which had you throwing a pillow at her in retaliation.

you scowled at her before pulling out your phone and finding heeseung's instagram.

"thanks for meeting with us today, i'm sure you guys are excited to go home. first days are always tough." and with that, heeseung closed up the first meeting of the year.

conversation and the screeching of chairs filled the room as everyone began to pack up and leave, bidding goodbye to each other. as president and vice president, you and heeseung were left behind to clean up after the others and sort out other documents and such.

you half-heartedly expected another question of a date from him as you threw away the paper cups and teabags, but it never came.

instead, all he said was, "good job today."

you turned to look at him, with his bag slung over one shoulder and a hand stuffed into his pocket. he gave you a tight smile and left the room after that, reminding you to lock up before you left.

a little disconcerted, you continued the last few tasks while mumbling to yourself, "that ass, making me clean up and not..." you didn't finish that thought. it almost sounded like you wanted him to ask you out on another date. you thought he would though - he always did, but the first day of school passed without incident.

well, it's only the first day. he'll definitely ask you out tomorrow, or later this week. he's never missed a chance to do so during first week of school.

he hasn't asked you out at all. not in the first week, nor the second, or the third.

a whole month had gone by, and all you'd heard from heeseung was student council-related stuff. he hadn't even talked to you outside of meetings.

"did you two fight, or something?" ningning asked you curiously.

"i dunno?" you reply truthfully. you really weren't sure if what was going on between you was a fight or just a change in dynamics. it was confusing.

the rest of the school noticed too; the halls whispered when you passed by, wary and concerned looks thrown your way. someone even asked off handedly in conversation: 'are you two secretly dating, then?' everyone was walking on eggshells around you two.

"well, i guess you can rest now."

"huh?"

"you said you wanted him to stop, didn't you?" ningning raised an eyebrow at you. "who knows how many times you've complained about it to me in the past. it's made up like, half of our conversations in all our years of friendship."

"oh, right."

ningning tilted her head curiously at you. "what's with the disappointed tone?"

"what tone?" you rolled your eyes. "this is perfect! i can finally concentrate on my work without having to be afraid that i'll be distracted by heeseung trying to get me to date him again." after a moment, ningning hummed in agreement.

"and! those girls can stop giving me death glares. i mean - i've already seen so many triumphant looks from them, as if they've already got him in the bag."

"uh-huh," she said sceptically.

"they'd definitely say yes if he asked them out. unlike me. he can actually go and date for once, instead of embarrassing himself with me."

"riiiight."

"good. that's good! maybe he'll have a girlfriend by next week. and-"

"okay! i get it, i get it," ningning burst out laughing. "i've never seen you overthink about heeseung this much."

"i can't help it! what would you think if some guy who's been obnoxiously pining over you for years consistently suddenly stopped out of nowhere?"

"hmm... i'd hang out with him, break my leg, therefore obliging him to bring me to the hospital, manipulate him to visit me every day as i recover, be overbearing as hell so that he'd realise he doesn't want me anymore, and poof! he's gone."

you stared at your (possibly insane) best friend (how is she your best friend?!) in alarm.

"...i think it's time for another visit to the psych ward."

"hey!"

you two laughed yourself to stitches. she might be crazy, but she definitely got your mind off heeseung, if only for a little bit.

"you guys don't like sports, do you?"

everyone in the council shook their head.

"well, luckily for you, the student council members aren't be required to participate in sports day. we're only expected to volunteer and help the teachers."

you and the others cheered, relieved you wouldn't have to run yourself to death in the cold wind like last year. you might have been gifted in almost any skill and hobby you picked up, but sports was an exception.

"make sure you do help out, as i'll be taking note of who does what." then, heeseung said in a whisper, as if sharing a secret (who in this room he's hiding it from, you don't know), "and we'll hold a little party here. just us members." that definitely got everyone murmuring excitedly.

in the two previous years you've been in the student council, you've never seen one so lively and reactive to their president. you hate to admit it, but you too could feel your mood lighten up with them whenever heeseung was leading another meeting.

not to mention, he listened intently to the others' concerns, always suggested good solutions, and greeted everyone who entered with a cup of tea. he was a lot more considerate than you'd expected.

see, you hadn't really shared that many classes before. and the one or two you ever did, you avoided him at all costs so you never actually noticed him properly until it was forced right in front of your face.

"on another note, we'd like to take in suggestions for places to visit for an upcoming school trip," you started, garnering their attention.

as you began your part of the meeting, you could feel heeseung's intense stare, but every time you looked at him, he'd turn away.

it was a little frustrating, and you didn't know why. you couldn't figure out why you felt a little more upset every time he'd look somewhere else. was he ignoring you? but, this was a totally normal thing to do, right? so it's not like you could just ask him 'hey, why do you always ignore me when i look at you?', you'd look stupid.

when the meeting ended and everyone else had left, the awkward tension between you two was so thick you could cut it with a knife.

"make sure to lock up before you go-"

"did i do something wrong?"

heeseung stared at you, mouth frozen from being cut off mid-sentence.

"what? no. why?"

"i just- well, you-" you stuttered, unsure how to answer. "i guess, i'm not used to you not..."

"to me not asking you to be my girlfriend?" he laughed, but there was an odd lack of humour.

you shrunk into yourself. you should have just kept your mouth shut, now you sounded self-centered.

"nevermind," you huffed.

"i'm just doing what you asked. after the date, remember?" he left before you could say anything else.

after he'd gone, you couldn't even hear the silence he left behind - not when your thoughts rang in your ears. shame, embarrassment, rage. you hated him, heeseung.

but most of all, you hated yourself.

you avoided heeseung at all costs after that incident, at least, whenever you could.

previously, with the lack of interactions you two had, you felt like you barely ever saw him. but now that there was this weird air of tension between you, seeing him at three times a week after school for student council activities suddenly felt too often. every time you were alone with him, you were sure you were as red as a tomato; you developed a habit of letting your hair hide your red ears and hide your face.

when sports day inevitably came, you took over his responsibilities, seeing as he was still a part of the volleyball team. that made him the only one in the student council to join any sports activity, whereas the rest of you relaxed. (the privilege was all thanks to heeseung, who advocated for your guys' exemption from activities after everyone had complained, in return for volunteer work.)

"you haven't gone to the volleyball games yet?" soobin, the treasurer, asked.

"no. i planned out a route to visit all the activities, and the courts happened to be last."

he raised a sceptical eyebrow at you.

"really. it's not because you're trying to steer clear of our dear president or something?"

you cringed. "keep your nose out of our business."

"well, if it's affecting student council activities, isn't it our business too?"

"maybe, but i think your priority should be helping out mrs. shin over there," you pointed to the teacher walking across the field, carrying a bunch of equipment by herself. "'looks pretty heavy, it would look bad if our volunteer wasn't doing his work, now would it?"

soobin gave you a dirty look before leaving to help out, but not before bidding you "good luck!"

when you finally made it to the volleyball courts, you spotted him immediately.

he'd done a spike, the slap echoing so loud that it drew the attention of other students passing by. paired with the sound of feet skidding against the ground and the thumps of balls making contact with skin, you decided that you hated the courts. it felt like walking into a battle zone - always fearing you'll get hit by a ball when you're not looking. once, ningning got hit in the face by a baseball and her eye had actually been pushed inwards into her socket. of course, that wasn't on a court, but you weren't taking your chances.

unfortunately, you still had to make sure everything was going smoothly and take note of how many more rounds were left.

"excuse me! students who aren't playing aren't allowed to step into the courts," the teacher yelled at you from the other side.

"sorry, but i have to check on you guys, i'm part of the student council," you explained as you crept closer.

"but-"

"my bad, mr. jeon. i forgot to tell you to expect our vice president to come around eventually, since she's taking over my duties for the day," heeseung said as came jogging up to you two.

"ah, really? was volleyball taking up your time? you should have told me! i wouldn't want this to get in the way of your work."

"no, it's okay. i wanted to play, and she's very reliable," he gestured to you.

"if you say so."

"right," you started, finally looking at heeseung for the first time that day. you nodded your thanks to him, to which he gave a quick thumbs up to before rejoining the game.

"how many sets are left?" you asked mr. jeon, pulling out your pen to note down on your clipboard.

"two. this is our final game of the day."

"great! who won for the girl's team earlier today? i'm sorry i couldn't come earlier. i thought it might be best to come later in the day so i could get all the results at once."

"don't worry about it. the boys' games are always more interesting anyway - in the sense that it's a little more dramatic, what with all the force they put in their hits."

right at that moment, the resounding boom of the ball hitting a wall interrupted you two. geez, were these guys playing with a ball or setting off canons? why men are so aggressive, you'll never understand.

"perfect timing," mr. jeon chuckled. "well anyway, the U-16 girls won the first game, but the U-19 team won the second-"

you should have minded the ongoing game. it was the number one rule when you were on a court, but you foolishly got distracted with mr. jeon's own clipboard. of course, the moment you let your guard down, the ball flew your way, right when you were shifting your stance and was therefore a little more unstable than usual.

the volleyball hit you right in the chest, and had you falling to the ground. by instinct, you tried to catch yourself - but instead of your palms reaching out backwards to save you, it was your elbows that hit the ground.

"fuck!" you cried at the pain that seared through your arm.

"oh my god, are you alright?" the team suddenly ran up to you, with mr. jeon himself trying to help you up.

"i'm so sorry! i didn't mean to." one of the team members apologised.

"watch it next time," heeseung's stern voice came, but you were more focused on trying to minimise the pain as much as possible.

"where does it hurt? your elbow? can you try moving it for me?"

you did as mr. jeon instructed, but underestimated how much it would hurt.

"oh, that popping sound does not sound normal," heeseung commented.

"heeseung, take her to the infirmary."

he nodded and grabbed your unaffected elbow, asking if it was okay. you nodded and followed him as he started leading the way to the school nurse.

"does it still hurt?"

"if i move it, yeah."

"sorry about that."

"it's fine. it happens." a quick silence followed.

"well, you should go to the doctor later. the nurse probably won't do much, maybe just hand you an ice pack or something else useless," he joked. you laughed.

"yeah. she never really does much, does she? all those years of school just to hand us ice packs for a broken bone or twisted ankle."

"right! even the PE department is better equipped for more serious injuries."

"mhm."

another bout of silence. you were going to go crazy, either from the awkwardness of it all or the immense pain in your right arm. you looked at heeseung's back, and the sweat on his skin, soaking his shirt.

"hey, you can go back if you want to," you told him suddenly. "i can walk myself to the infirmary, it's not like i hurt my leg or anything."

"i know, but i'd feel more at ease if i saw you there myself. you're my vice president, of course i'm concerned."

well, you didn't know how to feel about that. you've been downgraded from his crush to coworker, but he still cares for you. so maybe that was a plus?

"i see."

as expected, you were given a cold pack for your elbow and sent to the local hospital. luckily, it was only a ten minute drive and the nurse accompanied you as a staff member drove you two there. heeseung watched you get in the car and leave, going back to his game.

the next time you went to school (two days later), your right arm was in a sling and you pretended like that wasn’t just the most embarrassing moment of your life.

“you’re ambidextrous?” heeseung whispered to you while everyone else was focused on the movie projected.

the council had waited for you to return before they held their (secret) party, since it just felt wrong to hold one when their vice president was suffering in pain and away. up until now, heeseung had only known you used your right hand from all those meetings.

he'd been paying attention to that?

“i’m a better writer with my right.”

“but you can still write well with your left,” he said, impressed. “you really are amazing”

you stared at him, the look of awe on his face, and the slight smile of his mouth. you really had no idea what to say, flustered by his comment.

then he seemed to realise what he was doing, and quickly turned to back to the movie.

“my mom wanted a left-handed daughter, and would always switch the pencil to my left hand when i was younger,” you told him. you had the sudden urge to spill a bit more of your life to him.

“ah, really?” he replied, still looking the other way.

“yeah, but at that point i was already used to my right. i ended up being able to write with both hands though.”

“oh, you can do that?” soobin joined in the conversation. you nodded at him with wide eyes, not expecting the sudden interruption.

“do what?” hanni asked.

“she can write using both her hands. isn’t she so cool?”

“really?” she gasped, looking at the pen in your left hand. “wow. our vice president is way cooler than the president himself.”

“hey!” heeseung exclaimed as everyone giggled.

“seriously though, she’s the whole package. smart, talented, and pretty?” soobin lowered his voice in a mock-whisper, “i can treat you way better than this guy," he joked, pointing his thumb at heeseung.

“alright, i think we need to get a new treasurer,” heeseung suddenly said. he pointed at the projection and yelled, “look! ernesto's actually the villain!” this successfully put everyone's attention back on the movie, all shocked by the plot twist. (you already knew, because coco was your favourite airplane movie.)

when the party finished up, heeseung actually stayed behind this time, and helped you clean up.

“oh, you really don’t have to,” you told him.

“it’s fine, it’s quicker like this. it’s not fair to make you clean up when you don’t have two working hands.”

you watched as he put away the heavy binders and throw out the trash, feeling a little off-put by the new scene. you thought that maybe you should just go home and leave him to lock up, but he wasn’t saying anything, so you stayed and kept him company. his presence was surprisingly comforting.

“you have the keys?”

“yeah,” you answered, trying to open your backpack.

heeseung made his way over and opened your bag for you. “here, i’ll get it. tell me where it is.”

“oh, uhhh in the pocket there. the left one.”

he found the keys and took them before closing the bag again. he waited for you to put it back on, but noticed you struggling a little with the books in your arm.

“why don’t you just put these in your bag?” he asked, taking them from your good arm and helping you slip your injured one through a strap.

“it’ll be really heavy if i do.” you then thanked him, gesturing for him to give back your textbooks.

instead, he kept them, even holding the door open and waiting for you to pass by first.

“where do you live? i’ll try to help you bring these home.”

“you really-”

“it’s fine, i promise. in fact, i insist.” at your expression, he added, “what kind of president would i be if i didn’t help out my vice?”

right. president. and vice president. not friends, not even classmates. just coworkers.

you rolled your eyes and let him help you. “i usually take the bus home. the one that goes to the museum.”

“ah, i know that one. i usually walk home, but i think there’s a stop that bus goes to that’s near my house. so let’s go.”

heeseung led the way, walking in front of you so you took the chance to observe him from behind.

recently, you noticed that although he always looked put together and clean at the beginning of the day, his hair and clothes felt more loose and casual towards the end of the day - particularly on the longer days where there were council meetings after school. you like this version of him; you feel closer to this heeseung, because it’s a side that only you (and the other members) got to see. it felt a little bit like a secret.

“sorry, looks like my stop is earlier than yours. are you fine with carrying these yourself from here?”

“yep.”

“alright. well then, okay.” when he stood up as the bus stopped, he turned to you and waved lightly. “bye bye!” it was a little endearing - the way he'd said it.

“see you.”

you immediately flopped onto your bed when you reached home (on your back side, of course). it was an… odd day, but you didn’t dislike it.

after a bit of a struggle, you finally fished your phone from your bag, sending ningning a message.

“i think you took my advice too seriously,” ningning chortled during class the next day. “when i said i’d break my leg i didn’t mean actually getting injured!”

you dragged your hand down your face, asking whatever being was listening to your pleas to make your best friend stop teasing you.

“it’s not like i sprained my elbow on purpose??”

“oh girl, you don’t have a single athletic bone do you?”

“you know what, maybe i need to learn to shut up and stop telling you things.”

“i know you won’t. when you’re with me, your attempt at a mysterious persona disappears…”

“are you saying i’m loud?” you ask in mock-offense.

“i’m saying you yap a lot,” she rolls her eyes playfully. “but seriously, who knew getting hit by a volleyball would lead you and The Heeseung finally talk. maybe that guy should’ve thrown one at you when we were fourteen.”

“when did you start rooting for him?” you raised an eyebrow at her.

“i just thought he deserved a chance,” she shrugged nonchalantly, but the way she turned away didn’t sit right with you.

“oh, okay,” was all you came up with.

“so, anyway,” she started again after a moment. “i stalked my ex’s spotify and-”

“oh my god,” you groaned at the mention of her ex. “ningning i told you before, you need to forget about him.”

“i know, i know. but i couldn’t help it! his user was just there on the side, and he was listening to memories!! by conan gray!! i had to see what playlist he was listening to.”

“you need to block his spotify.”

“but that’s so embarrassing. it’s never that deep.”

“if you can’t move on from someone who convinced you that you were nothing without him, then maybe it is that deep.”

ningning sighed. “okay, i’ll block him. but do you want to know what his latest playlist was about?”

“duh,” you laughed as ningning pulled out her phone, promising to block him after.

heeseung continued to help you on the way home every time you guys had a meeting, to your surprise. during those bus rides home, you learned way more about the boy in three weeks than you ever had in your three and a half years of knowing each other. you wondered what had made him like you so much before this if he never even really knew you.

“but i did,” he said. “i did know you.”

“did you really?” you asked, thinking he was joking.

“well, at first, i obviously didn’t. i just thought you were pretty, and fun to annoy. so i kept asking you out just to see your response. after that, i did begin to like you - on a superficial level, of course; i was fifteen!”

you listened intently, finally getting answers to a question you didn’t realise you’d been curious about for so long yourself. heeseung didn’t look at you at all during his monologue, but straight forward instead. so you were able to observe the way the gold light from the sun highlighted his features perfectly. (did he always have such a perfect nose?)

“and then there was a time where i just got tired of it. i wanted to stop, but then everyone would have thought it was out of character. so even though i didn’t even like you anymore - in fact, i hated you, i still kept asking you out. just for show. stupid, right?

“but then, one time, i accidentally ran into you at a shop with ningning. actually, more like i saw you and hid behind one of the aisles. but i heard you say you wanted to get something for your siblings too, and i was like, ‘wow, she actually cares about others?’ back then, i was convinced you only thought about yourself.

“another time, you posted one of your competition wins on your instagram, and i could see from the caption how much you adored your team, even tagging each one of them and thanking them individually. i had never seen someone put that much effort into a simple win before. i kind of felt like i wasn’t thankful enough to my own volleyball team,” he chuckled to himself.

“what really had me falling for you though was when you tutored my sister last year . before that, she'd been going through some sort of mental struggle, what with being bullied at school and coming home to our parents telling her she should be ashamed of her grades. i felt so bad that i couldn’t do anything, you know? her older brother; her protector, but couldn’t do anything against the very people who should have been protecting the both of us. when she’d been signed up with you though, she came home for the first time in a good mood - she was humming! and i asked if something good happened at school, and she told me all about her amazing tutor that assured her she wasn’t the useless being she thought she was. how she was finally beginning to understand school for once, and looked forward to your sessions. when i learned that was you, i wanted so surprised, but so grateful."

you had never felt so touched until now. somehow, heeseung’s words made you feel like you really were worth more than you believed.

“really? wait, who’s your sister?”

“lee haseul. the one with autism, remember?”

“ah yes, of course i do!” you said, the name ringing a bell in your head. “she was definitely a little harder to tutor, but once we found a way to use her fixation on cars and link it to what we were learning, it was smooth sailing from there.”

“i really have no idea how you did that, but you have no idea the impact that had on me and my family. sometimes she asks me what it’s like working with you,” he finally turned to look at you, a pretty smile on his face. your face burned at the adoration on his face, looking away yourself.

“i hope you tell her good things about me.”

“there’s not a bad thing to say.”

“really?”

“really.”

when heeseung left the bus that day, a part of him still stayed with you, as words that constantly replayed in your mind.

it made you feel a little self-conscious, knowing that he’d been watching you this closely all this time. you felt like your efforts were appreciated, and that they weren’t for nothing after all. while your admiration of him only begun after really seeing him work on the council, his respect for you had been brewing for way longer.

you went to bed thinking about him way more than you usually did (and you’ve been thinking about him more often since you sprained your elbow). you found yourself a little more excited for the next meeting day, when he’d go home with you again.

what would you guys talk about? will he tell you more of his thoughts? maybe his other interests? should you ask about his team and work? how was he handling all that? or perhaps you should ask about his sister. anything, really. you just wanted to talk. to him.

oh no, you sounded like a typical high school girl with a crush just now, didn’t you? (well, that’s exactly what you are - no shame in that, though!) if your arm wasn’t injured, you would have been punching your pillow and screaming into it right now.

oh, right - the elbow. for the first time, you really didn’t want it to heal. you wanted it to stay sprained for as long as possible, but that would be stupid, and inconvenient. but then, how else would you talk to heeseung outside of council work? it’s not like you two shared any classes, nor did you run in the same circles at school. the bus rides home were really the only times you got to really talk to heeseung, without all the eyes watching you two.

a small part of you began to dread the day your cast came off, because that would mean heeseung would stop talking to you again, right? he wouldn’t have any reason to riding home with you, and it would go back to that awkward thing you two had.

you sigh and turn over, careful with your arm, and finally fall into a fitful sleep.

“you’re staring at him again.”

that sentence had you flinching away and turning back to ningning, looking at you with a knowing glint.

“i can’t help it! his hair just looks so messy, obviously i’m going to notice.”

“his hair looks the same way it always does…”

“well- look at him walking around like he owns the place! he thinks he’s the shit, doesn’t he?”

“to be fair, he’s the student body president and captain of the volleyball team. maybe he is.”

“why are you defending him?!” you cried at all her replies.

“why are you trying to hard to hate him! we both know how much you li-”

“okay, okay, shhhh,” you shut her up by covering her mouth. really, she needed to learn to shut up. it’s not like the whole world needed to know about your massive crush on the boy you previously hated.

ningning pushed your hands away. “why are you more fixated on him today than usual anyway?”

"okay, first of all," you scoffed at her. "you make it sound like i'm always fixated on him."

"you are."

you rolled your eyes, then bit your lip after a moment of thought, knowing that whatever you were about to say would sound stupid(ly in love).

“it’s just that, i finally got my cast off this past weekend, so i can carry my books home perfectly fine again.”

“ah, and so he won’t be escorting you home anymore like he had been these past five weeks,” ningning finished your train of thought.

you buried your face in your arms, flushing bright red. “god, i sound like an idiot. i hate that i even thought that.”

the girl laughed at you, but patted your back consolingly.

“don’t worry about it. i don’t think heeseung’s gonna stop taking the bus with you just because you’re healed now. trust me, he’s one of the caring people i know.” was that a bit of sadness and longing? maybe you were interpreting her tone wrong.

“he probably will! it’s not like he used to take the bus home before i got hurt.” you peeked up at her. “is it wrong to ask you to throw another ball at me?”

“girl…”

when that day’s meeting finally ended, you and heeseung worked in tandem, tidying up the room before locking up, albeit a little more slowly. it was like both of you were waiting for something, but never said it out loud,

as you finally made your way out the school, you and heeseung turned to each other, hoping the other would say something.

“well-” heeseung started at the same time you said, “are you-”

after a brief moment of awkward silence, you guys burst into soft laughter at the silliness of the situation. what were you so afraid of anyway?

“do you still want to ride with me?” you finally asked him.

“if that’s okay with you.”

“of course it is,” you rolled your eyes playfully, falling into step with him.

“honestly, i thought you were going to go back to walking home after i healed up,” you confessed to him on the bus. “it made me kind of sad.”

“you’d miss me?” he teased, but there was excitement in his tone. he was elated.

“well, these rides are kind of fun! i wish i got to know you like this sooner. and then i thought we’d go back to the way we were before after this, but ningning assured me that it’d be fine.”

“ah yeah, ningning’s cool. wish i had a close friend like her by my side.”

it didn’t click until now how they seemed to be familiar with each other. when did heeseung and ningning become friends? in fact, when did they get a chance to even talk to each other?

“are you friends with her?” you tried to ask nonchalantly, like the topic wasn’t bugging you now. if those two were friends, why didn’t ningning mention it to you?

heeseung seemed to notice the shift in your mood though. “we’re just friends, promise. there’s nothing between us.”

that eased you a little, but that wasn’t really your main concern.

“that’s nice to know. but how did you become friends? i thought you two were was close as me and you were before all this.”

“oh! we met up at summer camp. it was purely by coincidence; my parents decided to send me to one last summer, and she happened to be there. i didn’t know anyone else, so i stuck by her for most of the two weeks we were there. we got to know each other then.”

ningning’s summer camp. last summer had been her third year there, so she wasn’t new or anything. the programme usually lasted two weeks, and they’d take away their phones during that time, so you’d have no contact with her until it ended.

but you’re surprised she didn’t tell you about it when she came back. after all, she had said it was ‘just as usual’, but seeing the new face of your best friend’s (previously) most hated person didn’t seem like nothing.

“huh.”

“i swear though, there was nothing between us back then.”

“i see.”

“i hadn’t talked to her much after my date with you-”

the date. ningning had been the one to push you to go. but why? even if her and heeseung became friends during camp, you and her were still closer. so why did she switch sides? you’d thought it was odd how she was suddenly encouraging you to say yes, when she’d spent the last four years sticking her tongue out at heeseung by your side.

the date, which had gone both so bad and yet so good. when everything had gone terribly wrong, but heeseung did everything right.

“i’m so sorry for being late!” heeseung panted as he ran up to your table.

“the one time i give you a chance, and you’re an hour late, lee.”

“i know, i know. it’s just that my sister-”

“i’m not hearing out any excuses,” you huffed.

you’d felt so humiliated waiting for him. you were shaking, your hair was frizzy with stress and your make up probably a little smudged too. the staff had even given you a free cheesecake slice out of pity. a pity cake.

“whatever, you’re here now, so let’s get this over with”

the waitress came over and gave you an encouraging look (which you ignored) and took your orders. when your meals arrived, you stared at the orange slices in the sauce of your orange chicken. although you hated them, you actually loved the sauce and chicken itself, so you ordered them every time you went to a chinese restaurant.

“you don’t like the oranges?” heeseung asked after seeing you pick them out.

“not really, no. i don’t know how to explain it; i love orange chicken, but i hate actually seeing the oranges on the sauce. it’s a little bit jarring for me, fruits and savoury foods together just don’t make sense to me visually, but when i taste them, they’re so good. just like pineapples on pizza, you get me?”

“i guess,” he thinks out loud. he uses his own chopsticks and starts picking them out from your plate, placing them onto his. “mind if i take these then? i love oranges.”

“i’ve literally seen you throw out a whole orange at school before.”

“you were watching?” he smiled sheepishly, a light pink tint to his cheeks.

“n-not particularly.” you look back down at your food, focusing on your task. you need to be more careful with what you say.

after a terrible start to your date, the rest of your lunch went okay. it wasn’t too bad, and you two started discussing your next plan: watching a movie.

“i’m not even a marvel fan,” you told heeseung after he said he’d gotten two tickets for spiderman: no way home.

“don’t worry, i’ll explain everything to you during the movie.”

“really? also, isn’t a movie a terrible date idea? we wouldn’t really talk to each other.”

“well, i will. i tend to talk a lot during movies.” he turned to you with an apologetic look. “i hope you won’t mind.”

“i’ll need it, won’t i?”

turns out you didn’t need his talking during the movie because you two didn't even get to watch it. a kitchen in the food court next to the theatre had gone up in flames, with the fire spreading to it’s surroundings. thankfully, no one died, but the damage was pretty severe, with half the mall having to close down until reparations are finished. and who knows how long that’ll take…

“oh! well, it’s a good thing i was a little late then, right?” heeseung tried to lighten up this messy date as you two passed by the mall which was now in ashes.

“i guess,” you mumbled. “so what now?”

“well, how about a little bowling?” he suggested.

you nodded, and he drove you two to the local bowling alley. you hadn't done it since you were eight, so heeseung showed you how to do it on your first turn.

“swing your arm like this,” he said, holding onto your bicep and holding onto the ball for you.

“you can let go, you know. i can carry the weight, it’s only the small size after all.”

“i know, but it’s just for demonstration. i’m going to let go of the ball now, okay? make sure to hold tightly,” he looked at you intently. geez, how could someone telling you to hold a bowling ball look at you like you hung the stars?

well, you didn’t really need his help anyway. your instincts kicked in and you managed to hit nine pins all together on your first, with similar numbers for the rest of the rounds. you even got a strike twice!

“are you sure you’ve never bowled before?” heeseung chuckled in awe.

“positive.”

“it always surprises me how easily you pick up things.”

“…thanks.”

and then you hit very few pins every single round after that in the second game.

you hadn’t been able to finish your second game however, because a heavy downpour suddenly came down.

“oh my god, the water is rising so fast,” you called over to heeseung as you looked out the glass doors of the main exit. if the floor hadn’t been lifted, the water would have started flowing in by now.

“crap, should we go home before it gets worse?”

“i suggest you should, kids,” the man behind the counter gruffed. he himself was getting ready to go, with the other customers running outside to their own cars.

heeseung looked outside and then at you.

“you can’t walk outside in those shoes, they’ll get wet.”

you were wearing pointy slip ons that would definitely get wet and soaked if you took a step outside, but it’s not like you had a choice.

“it’s alright, let’s just go-woah!”

heeseung picked you up bridal style and started making his way to his car, going fast but careful not to slip.

“hey! let me down!”

“no way, we’re almost there.”

you tried to fight him off, but he just held tightly until you reached the car, and he gently set you down into the passenger seat before backing out of the parking lot.

“are you crazy?”

“are you?” he retorted. “like hell i’m letting you get all soaked on our first date.”

you wheezed. “this date was so unlucky. who imagined everything that happened could’ve happened.”

“i know! and i wanted to make a good impression so bad. it’s like the world is against me,” he whined.

as you finally reached the front of your apartment complex, heeseung turned to you one last time.

“i’m sorry for everything that went wrong. please let me make it up to you.” he sucked in a breath, and you realised what he was going to say just a moment before he did.

“will you let me take you out on another date?”

yes. absolutely. this was fun. it was terrible, but i had a great time. wait, is this him asking me to be his girlfriend? i should ask. if he says yes, would i say yes? i don’t know, i don’t know him that well. i’ve only really only talked to him today. today’s date. everything went wrong. what if that was a sign? if i say yes, will all our dates just keep going to shit? no way, today was just an anomaly. we’ll be fine. but then when i go back to school, everyone will know. they’ll all look at me like they knew this would happen. they’ll clap him on the back and whoop in the halls, that’ll be so embarrassing. i hate that. maybe i should say no. but he was so sweet. it’s not his fault. but i wouldn’t be able to handle the attention. maybe i should-

“oh… i see.”

you looked up at him in confusion. but he wasn’t looking at you anymore. just straight ahead.

had you said something out loud? your thoughts were running wild, and you really couldn’t make up your mind.

“okay, well. have a good night,” heeseung said. when did he make his way to your door? even through the heartbreak clearly displayed in his voice, he still went out and opened the door for you. or maybe he was kicking you out of his car. was ningning right? had he thought you were undateable?

too much. too much was happening; so much happened today that you couldn’t form an answer. heeseung took your silence as a no (or did you actually say no? out of instinct?), which made your mind even more befuddled. you weren’t sure if you were even forming a coherent thought.

“oh, okay.”

you somehow made it out of the car and to the entrance of the apartment. turning back, you found heeseung’s car still there, with him watching you. you gave a weak wave, one he didn’t return, and punched in your house number.

at the last moment, you wanted to say something. anything, you didn’t know what. but when you around back to him again, he was gone.

you didn’t sleep at all that night. or maybe you did? you couldn’t tell. you’d been so worried over that last moment with heeseung, and had replayed it so many times in your head.

eventually, you convinced yourself that things were fine. that maybe you just imagined it. maybe it wasn’t that bad, and things would go back to normal at school.

definitely. he’ll definitely get back to his shenanigans when school started up again. there wasn’t some sort of finality in his tone - no you just imagined it.

you were wrong.

“why didn’t you tell me you met heeseung at summer camp?”

“how’d you-”

“he told me.” you looked at ningning intently. “but it should have been you.”

“i just- i didn’t think it was worth mentioning! you hated the guy, and it’s not like him being there would have affected you in any way,” she defended herself.

“sure, but i would have appreciated hearing it from you. you knew i’ve had a crush on him for months now, and you could have mentioned it to me?? summer camp was in july; it’s already march for fuck’s sake!”

“i wanted to! i just couldn’t find the right time. you were always busy with student council stuff, and whenever you were free you always talked about heeseung,” he huffed exasperatedly. “how was i supposed to just go, ‘by the way, your crush paid me to set you guys up!’”

your head snapped towards her.

“what?”

“what do you mean wh-” when ningning saw the look on your face, she slapped her hands over her mouth. “you didn’t know about that part...”

“no. i didn’t,” you seethed. “well, i’m glad i got to hear at least something from you.”

you stormed out, ignoring ningning’s pleas of ‘wait! hear me out!’

a fool, that’s what you were. somehow, ningning’s behaviour was even more clear. your best friend had been paid to convince you to say yes. who would have thought she was easily swayed by a few bucks?

and to think that heeseung was really that desperate to take you on a date, going so far as to pay someone close to you to get you to agree? wow, he really was a grade A asshole. sports day had just been topped by ‘being played by my own best friend and crush’ on your list of most embarrassing moments.

speed walking through the halls, you couldn’t stand to look at the pictures of you and heeseung’s faces on the student council board. it hurt so bad, that your feelings could just be easily bought. that someone you considered as family could sell you out like this. that the guy you’d fallen for would go to this length to ‘get you’.

at the bus stop, you saw the man himself smile brightly at you and wave, like he didn’t pay your best friend to get you to go in a date with him. one thing that never fails to amaze you is the audacity of men.

was it all a lie? was his kind-hearted and caring personality all fake? just another thing he did to get your attention? did you truly know heeseung like you thought? or just the 'heeseung' he wanted you to see?

you pointedly looked away, and decided to go home by foot. it was twenty minutes away by walking, but that was enough time for you to at least calm down a little and think about it more. sort out your mind.

you ended up skipping the rest of the week, convincing your parents you were sick (by putting a hot pack on your face and neck before they checked). otherwise, you might have actually broken down right then at school if you saw either heeseung or ningning.

"is everything okay?" soobin asked one day.

"yeah! everything's fine," you said cheerily. "why do you ask?"

"well, it's just that you've been sitting with us instead of ningning."

looking at soobin and his friends, you finally noticed the slight awkward air in the group because of your presence. to be fair, you weren't really close with them to begin with. or anyone. you spent most of your lunch breaks with ningning, but now that you've refused to talk to her for the last two weeks, you've been floating between different groups. sometimes, you even spent lunch in the toilets or the student council room.

but who else could you spend it with? you weren't ready to face ningning yet, and it was already hard enough tolerating heeseung during meetings. you didn't miss the worried looks from him, and he's tried to talk to you several times (which you always declined).

a sigh escapes you, and you massage your forehead. obviously, you needed to confront them both eventually. but not right now. whatever the answer is, you don't think you'd be able to handle it right now.

"do you want to talk about it?" soobin asked, a low volume only for you to hear.

"maybe later," you admitted. it would be a good idea to tell an outsider all of this, especially to soobin, who's always been a great advice-giver.

"there won't be a meeting this friday; seniors are having a rehearsal for the graduation ceremony then. the school wanted to have one before finals started," heeseung told the council. he looked around and asked, "anything else?" at everyone's silence, he nodded and closed the meeting. everyone bid their goodbyes and left, except soobin.

heeseung stared at you with anticipation and uncertainty. he'd given up on asking you to talk for a while now, but still waited for you to act first. he understood that you'd come to him when you were ready.

you looked up at soobin, looking at you with a similar expression, but one that had more curiousity and less anxiety.

"let's go?" he asked. you nodded and followed him out, leaving heeseung to lock up on his own.

you started doing that ever since The Incident. of course, you didn't leave all the clean up work to him, but you rushed your own responsibilities to minimise as much time you had to spend with him as possible.

"seriously?"

you and soobin turned back, finding the voice belonging to heeseung. he was standing outside the student council room, looking at you two, fuming. you could practically see the steam coming out his ears.

"you ignore and shun me away, refusing to talk about this issue between us, but talk to soobin about it instead? why are you dragging him into this??"

you rolled your eyes and turned to him fully, blood boiling. "i'm not 'dragging him into this'. i just wanted to talk to someone, is that so wrong?" you retorted.

"yes! you seriously think getting soobin's opinion is gonna help?"

"am i not allowed to talk to him now? are you going to pay him to stop talking to me too?"

"god, i know it was wrong of me, okay?! i'm sorry, it was shitty of me."

"your apology isn't going to suddenly make everything better. it won't take back what you did."

"i know. but please, talk to me. it's driving me crazy, how you go about acting normal with everyone but me. this whole year, did you not feel anything for me at all? do you really hate me?" he asked, his voice cracking at the end. "if you do, tell me now. so i can finally move on."

you stared at the boy, and the way the late afternoon sunlight hit him from behind. you could barely make out his expression, but maybe that was for the better. you probably wouldn't have been able to turn away and stand your ground if you saw the look on his face.

"you can't say that. not when you were the one who put yourself in this situation. did you think i would never find out? that you bribed my best friend into setting me up with you?" you heard soobin's surprised gasp on the side.

although you had your back to heeseung, you could still imagine what he looked like. the scene broke your heart, but not as much as it did when you found out that ningning had even agreed to such a thing.

after it was clear he wasn't going to reply, you started walking away, with soobin tailing you.

"wow... so that's what happened," was the first thing he said after a few minutes of silence.

"yeah."

"what a dick move."

"right."

you sighed, the adrenaline leaving you and now realising how loud you two had been. there weren't many students left at school, but a teacher or two probably heard the commotion. you'll be the hot topic of the staff lounge room for sure.

when you finally explained it all to soobin, he was quiet for a moment, thoughtful.

"i honestly never expected this from heeseung. it just- it doesn't seem like him."

"that's what i thought too. a little part of me wishes it's all some misunderstanding, but i don't know how it could be twisted any other way."

soobin hummed in agreement. "but, i noticed one thing from all of this though: you still call ningning your best friend," he pointed out. "despite everything, you've already forgiven her. or at least, you've begun to."

you bit your lip, realising he was right. you were beginning to accept it. she seemed genuinely sorry, and you could never hate her forever.

"it's just that - after getting to know heeseung, i felt like a terrible person for not giving him a chance. for always turning him down harshly. maybe i drove him to bribe ningning, maybe she got fed up with me too. i couldn't help but feel guilty for causing both of them to act like this.

"and i know this sounds wrong... but somehow, i felt a little relieved that i wasn't the only person in the wrong. that i wasn't the only asshole in this story - isn't that such a twisted thought?"

soobin melted when he saw your face, and pulled you in for a hug.

"of course not. it's alright to feel like this, you know? it's what makes us human, and what are humans without complicated feelings?"

and just like that, a dam was broken. you didn't realise how much you needed to hear those words until he said them.

it wasn't until may that you finally mustered up the courage to finally talk to ningning, and it seemed she had the same idea too.

"please, can we talk?" she asked at the same time you called her name.

"i was just about to ask the same thing."

once you two found an empty classroom, ningning started immediately.

"listen," she called for your attention. "i'm so sorry. you have no idea how many times i want to say it; i'm sorry, i'm sorry, i'm sorry. it was such a light offer, really. i didn't realise the meaning it would have in the moment."

"what do you mean, a 'light offer'?"

"during camp, i had bought heeseung's sister some ice cream because she was being left out by the other kids. it was only like two dollars, but heeseung insisted on repaying. but the smallest bill he had was a five, so obviously i refused. but he kept asking me to take it and i told him that if i took it, i'd be the one in debt to him instead. so he made a light-hearted joke about getting you to go on a date with him, so that there'd be no hard feelings between us." she looked up at you pleadingly. "we'd been joking around, i didn't even realise the reality of his question. but when i got back from camp, i didn't think you'd actually go on one with him."

"you kept bringing it up; i trusted your opinion."

"i did, but i didn't really mean it. i was hoping you'd continue to say no, and i could just tell him something like 'sorry, i tried. here's your three dollars back.'"

"you didn't mean it?" you prodded.

ningning looked down at her hands and sighed. you could tell something was weighing on her.

"the truth is... i ended up catching feelings for heeseung. you know how i'd just broken up with my ex recently."

you thought back to her ex, who had isolated ningning from you and her other friends. how she'd come to school covered up even in the heat. the way she'd lost a worrying amount of weight. in all honesty, you should have tried to pry more; to break her out of this toxic relationship. but instead, you told yourself that there wasn't anything you could do, and left her to deal with the abuse on her own.

the guilt ate you, but you distracted yourself with work (and heeseung). god, you're so self-centred, aren't you?

"oh yeah, i remember very well."

"exactly," she says, hearing the loathing in your voice. "heeseung was the first person to show me genuine kindness after that whole affair. and so i found myself watching him over those two weeks, falling for him. and i thought to myself: if you didn't want him, then could i? i feel like the worst person ever, how could i even think that?"

her voice broke at the end, and you could see her silently crying; tears poured down her face but her sobs were inaudible. you'd noticed it was a habit she formed after getting with her ex. she'd never cried much before him, but she used to cry as loudly as you. you placed a comforting hand on her shoulder.

"it's okay. you're not the only one with shitty thoughts."

her wide eyes peered up at you, sparkling with tears. she wrapped her arms around you, and you reciprocated the embrace.

the way she'd hiccuped and the wet spot you could feel forming on your shirt yet the silent sobs broke your own heart, and you had to force your own tears down.

"i'm sorry too. i was too absorbed in my own life that i didn't pay enough attention to the way you were breaking. i mean, how did i not notice anything all this time?"

you wondered if her smile had ever wavered when she was with you, if she had to fake a laugh, or even force herself to talk to you this past year. dealing with her own problems on her own, while you vented to her yours. if she had, you didn't notice (someone give you a 'best friend of the year' award right now!).

as much as you wanted to hate her for liking heeseung, you didn't. you understood her feelings, especially after getting to know the boy himself. he brought a sense of safety with him wherever he went - so how could you ever hate your best friend for needing that security when no one else offered it to her?

"wait, can i ask you something?" you asked. ningning slipped from the embrace, nodding.

"if you liked heeseung, then why did you still ask me to accept his date offers? you could have just kept it from me, and told him that i said no. was it really just because of the three dollar 'debt'?"

"ah, right. well, when he'd asked me to get you to go on a date with me, it reminded me just how much he liked you. i don't think he'd ever see me the same way, not when his sights are so fixed on you. and after getting a taste of his hospitality, i felt that you deserved it too. that not only did he deserve a chance, but so did you.

"i realised that you needed someone like him. i couldn't give you the care and support he could, not when i'm too absorbed by my own problems. and i knew you were feeling guilty, and heeseung was the only one who could really understand you."

oh, you really were going to either jump off a cliff or hug her so tight her eyeballs might pop out. even when you neglected, she still thought about you through it all. heeseung was wrong, he made you out to be this caring person who thought of others, but that person was really ningning.

"but, what about you? you need care and support too."

"it wouldn't work out between us, he's not the kind of person i want. he was just the first kind person in a while. i need to heal and learn to be more independent myself."

a quiet moment followed, with the both of you lost in your thoughts and emotions. you hadn't felt this lonely in so long, and a weight had finally been lifted from your shoulders.

"so what are you going to do? have you talked to heeseung yet?"

"no, not yet. but he's waited four years now, he can wait a little longer. i just want to spend time with my best friend right now."

'a little longer' ended up being another month. when finals started, the school let the older years off on study leave to focus on exams. so you didn't end up seeing heeseung until the final graduation rehearsal.

as president and vice president, you two were expected to perform a speech and be next to each other the whole ceremony. so you decided it was the perfect time to confront him then.

"heeseung, wait," you called, grabbing onto his wrist as he walked by.

he immediately paused in his tracks, whipping around to look at you with wide eyes, surprised you'd finally decided to talk to him. you glanced at his friends behind him, all with a mix of curious and knowing looks.

"oh, uh, you guys can go ahead," he told them, and they left you two alone.

"i made up with ningning..." you told him.

"i see! that- that's good. im happy you guys did."

"...and i'm sorry. for making a big deal out of nothing. for making you wait so long. you're seriously one of the sweetest people i've ever met. you didn't deserve that."

heeseung shook his head in protest. "no, don't say that. i'd wait for you as long as you want, even if you never accept me. and it was a big deal. i'm guessing she told you?" you nodded. "it was fucked up of me to even make a joke like that. in fact, it was worse than if it was a genuine deal. and i can't just buy your love with three dollars, you're worth more than that." you tried to say something, but heeseung continued.

"i screwed up, i know. but i never lied to you. if there's one thing i've always been sure of, it was loving you. don't you ever feel like you have to love me back though, it's not something you can force. but i'll always have your back. no matter how many fights, how many fuck-ups, or if i ever lose my feelings for you - which might never happen. you can always fall back on me for support."

your eyes watered at his sincerity, feeling unworthy of his kindness.

"i don't deserve that though. ningning does."

"you both do. listen to me," he said, grabbing onto your shoulders and forcing you to look up at him. "don't you ever dare say that you're undeserving of love and support. every one does, but i know who you are; i know how hard you work and your honesty. and i want to guarantee you a home with me, if you ever need one. because i love you."

wow. you've cried so much these past few months, and you're sure you're about to start again. heeseung wiped your tears with his thumb, and your heart swelled.

a year ago, you would have never even thought of accepting heeseung's feelings. a few months ago, you thought you had just missed him, finally reciprocating his feelings right as he lost them. but now you were finally on the same page, and you didn't want to waste another moment.

"i love you, heeseung."

graduation day was a busy one. you had to start getting ready earlier than other students in order to prepare your speech and arrive before everyone else. it was stressful, yet rewarding, especially as you crossed the stage and finally received your diploma.

when you and heeseung were set to give your pre-written speeches, you almost didn't notice the way everyone looked motivated during his, being captured by his words yourself. you hoped to be able to instil that inspiration in others one day.

towards the end of his speech though, he did something you didn't expect, but shouldn't have been surprised by.

"so toward my fellow graduates and our families who've supported us all this way, let's celebrate our achievements and strive to follow our dreams," then turned to look back at you, pulling a bouquet of flowers from under podium, which he'd blocked from your view this whole time with his body. "as i will be with mine. so i'll ask one last time: would you let me have the honour of being your boyfriend?"

you rolled your eyes, but couldn't hide the smile on your face. with the cheers echoing throughout the hall, you suddenly got a sense of deja vu, remembering his election speech the previous year.

oh, how much things have changed since then.

"if only you'll let me be your girlfriend."

; BONUS

with exams over and the heatwave taking over the country, you had decided to spend the day at heeseung's house and try to cool off.

"are you and ningning going back to camp this summer?" you asked, hoping he'd say no. having zero contact with your best friends for two weeks sounded like hell. not even a good morning or good night text? shivers went down your spine at the thought.

"i think i'll be busy with college apps. not sure about ningning though."

"really?" you gasped, turning over to look at him. "so basically i get to spend the whole holiday with you."

heeseung grinned at you excitedly, thinking the same. then, his face suddenly lit up, as if remembering something.

"speaking of ningning, i just remembered how she sprained her leg last year. she spent the rest of the week in the infirmary."

"really? she was fine when she came back though."

"it was minor, so it only took one week, in the middle of those two."

suddenly, you remembered something too.

"i'd hang out with him, break my leg, therefore obliging him to bring me to the hospital, manipulate him to visit me every day as i recover, be overbearing as hell so that he'd realise he doesn't want me anymore, and poof! he's gone."

"no way..."

"what?" he questioned.

"did you have to visit her everyday?"

"oh. yeah, to give her her medicine and meals. the other kids had basically made me their makeshift nurse, since i treated them better than the nurse apparently," he laughed at the memory. "i caught the old lady glaring at me several times - maybe she thought i'd stolen her job?"

you laughed with him, but not only because of his story. you couldn't believe ningning's oddly specific solution had actually come out of experience. you were so going to bully her for this later.

"should i glare at you too, then?"

"hm?" he hummed confusedly.

"for stealing my heart."

heeseung blinked at you for a moment, before breaking into a wide smile and suddenly attacking you with tickles (a habit you learned he tended to do when he was flustered, specifically by you).

giggles escaped you, laughing so hard that it began to hurt. if this is how it's going to be with heeseung, you'll grow abs in no time.

"okay! okay, stop-" you cackled.

he obliged, helping you sit back up. then he tucked your hair behind your hear and placed a quick peck on your lips.

suddenly shy, you looked away with a smile facing the fan as it blew air onto your face, pushing your hair back. when you looked back at heeseung over your shoulder, you were surprised to find him beaming at you with awe on his face.

"you're beautiful, you know?"

"only when i'm with you."

"nope. you're always stunning."

"okay."

"you don't believe me?"

"i do."

"good. i'll keep saying it anyway, to make sure you do."

you stared at him for a moment that felt like hours, just staring into each others eyes. you then went in for a hug, toppling over the other and staying in that position - just you two cuddling on his bed.

sure, it was really hot today, but somehow the warmth from his body was more comfortable than anything else. you couldn't have asked for a more perfect moment.

; AUTHOR'S CORNER ! is it obvious i've never had a big injury before... anyway i hope u guys enjoyed this! i wrote this really quick and suddenly like it js came out of nowhere lol but for now i'm proud of it :)

; TAGLIST - @naespas @okwonyo @sleepdeprivedline @lcvclywon @llvrhee @hommyy-tommy @sumzysworld @syazzzlisa @jiawji @cjayius @desistay @dimplewonie perm. @lovelovelovebts @miyseung @babyy-bambii @haechansbbg @gweoriz @maoyueze @manooffline @yizhoutv @rikibun @wonniversity networks. @kflixnet @k-films @/k-labels

#·˚ ༘₊· ͟͟͞͞꒰➳ mi's works #kflixnet #k-labels #k-films #enhypen #enhypen x reader #heeseung #lee heeseung #heeseung x reader #enhypen heeseung #heeseung fic #heeseung fluff #heeseung angst #heeseung scenarios #heeseung imagines #heeseung fics #heeseung oneshots #heeseung long fics #ੈ♡˳ wait until you like me again

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tlouadditc · 3 months

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can you please write about ✂️ with Abby😳💖💖💖

oh my god. yes. [small drabble since im just starting back!!]

warnings: 18+ [MINORS AND MEN DNI], reader x abby, scissoring [duuuuhhhhh], short story w/ no background, no established relationship, rushed ending, idk what else atp.

despite popular belief, abby prefers scissoring. something about skin to skin contact with you, bumping your clits together vigorously, only focusing on your orgasms- it's intimate.

the first time you scissored her wasn't awkward at all; abby let you get on top, let you pick the pace, and guided you a little when you got tired. her care for you was something you never experienced before, something that made you 100x more comfortable with her.

"mmfuck- abby," you breathed in between kisses, your clothed pussy grinding against her pelvis, hands gripping at her toned biceps. her hands traveled up and down your sides, lifting up your oversized shirt and revealing your soaked panties. the room was hot, only noises heard was the heavy breathing and wet kisses shared between the two of you. her eyes, dark and heavy-lidded, stared into your soul.

"what's wrong, baby?" she asked, a hand travelling down to your hip, guiding you as you whimper helplessly. "what d'ya need?"

moments later, you two were in the middle of the living room, on the couch, heavily panting as the sound of wet squelches and skin slapping fill the room to the brim. sweaty bodies atop of each other, small moans leaving both of your mouths. "jus' like that, cmon," she moaned, one large hand on your hip, rocking you in just the right places. your head is fuzzy, no thoughts, no worries, just focusing on the feeling in between your thighs. one of your hands grip onto her leg, leaving a hand mark; the other holding onto the couch for dear life. "so fuckin' pretty," she whispers, a hand coming up to caress your tit. "say you've never done this before but-" her head tilts back, cutting her sentence off with a loud groan. she guides you to go faster, juices spreading all over your heat. your legs are getting weak, the feeling becoming overbearing as you reach your climax. "cumming already? fuck, you're perfect," she coos. all you can do is hold onto her while riding out your orgasm. she talks you through it, praising how good you are to her. "good girl.."

not soon after, she does the same, using your sensitive bud to get her off. you lean down and leave wet kisses all over her body, lipgloss marking your territory. her chest moves up and down as she comes to her senses, body still trembling from pleasure. "that was.." she starts, but she ends up just giggling, looking at you laying on her bare chest. her laugh is contagious, causing a small abruption of laughter in the room. you both lay there, feeling closer than ever.

a/n: yay no hiatus anymore! i hope i dont jinx that. anyway hope this was good and im excited to get back into writing :p!!

#tlouadditc #brook speaks.. i think #the last of us smut #tlou fic #tlou2 smut #abby anderson smut #abby anderson x reader #abby smut #abby the last of us #abby anderson

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cybernaght · 10 months

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The fandom echo chamber: fanon, microanalysis and conspiracy brain

As someone who has been in fandom spaces, on and off, for 20 years, I find some fascinating trends popping up in the last decade that I thought to be fandom-specific but clearly aren’t. So, I would like to do a little examination of where those things come from, how they are engaged with, and what it says about the way we consume media. This is a think piece, of sorts, with my brain being the main source. As such, we will spend some time down the memory lane of a fandom-focused millennial.

This is largely brought about by Good Omens. But it’s also not really about Good Omens at all.

Part one. Fanon.

The way we see characters in any story is always skewed by our very selves. This is a neutral statement, and it does not have a value judgement. It’s simply unavoidable. We recognise aspects of them, love aspects of them, and choose aspects of them to highlight based entirely on our own vision of the universe.

Recognition comes into this. There is a reason so many protagonists of romance novels have a “blank slate” problem. Even when they do not, we love characters who are like us or versions of us that we would like to be. And when we say “we”, I also mean, “me”.

(I remember very clearly this realisation hit me after a whole season of Doctor Who with writing which I hated utterly when I questioned why I still clung so incredibly hard to Clara Oswald as my favourite companion. Then I looked at myself in the mirror. Oh. Well. That would do it, wouldn’t it?)

Then, there is projection, and, again, this is a neutral statement. Projection exists, and it is completely normal and, dare I say it, valid way of engaging with — well, anything. Is the character queer? Trans? Neurodivergent? Are they in love? Do they like chocolate? Are they a cat person? Well, yes, if this is what the text says, but if the text does not say anything… You tell me. Please, do tell me. Because, in that moment of projection, they are yours.

And then, there is fandom osmosis, and that is the most fascinating one of them all, the one that is not very easy to note while you are inside the echo chamber. It’s the way we collectively, consciously or not, make decisions on who or what the characters are, what their relationships are, and what happens to them.

(Back when I was writing egregiously long Guardian recaps on this blog I actually asked if Shen Wei’s power being learning actually was stated anywhere in the canon of the show. Because I had no idea. I have read and reread dozen of fanfics where that is the case, and at some point through enough repetition, it became reality.)

We are all kind of making our own reality here, aren’t we?

Back when things were happening in a much less centralised manner - in closed livejournal groups, and forums of all shapes and sizes - I don’t remember there being quite as much universally agreed upon fanon. Frankly, I don’t remember much of universally agreed upon anything. But now, everything is in one place: we have this, and we have AO3, and it’s wonderful, it really is so much easier to navigate, but it’s also one gigantic reality-shifting echo chamber, with blogs, reblogs, trends, and rituals.

Accessibility plays its part, too. If you were, say, in Life on Mars (UK) fandom between seasons, and you wanted to post your speculation fic, you had to have had an account, and then find and gain access to one of the bigger groups (lifein1973 was my poison, but ymmv), and then, if you feel brave you may post it, but also, you may want to do so from your alt account if you wanted to keep yours separate, and then you would have to go through the whole process again. And I’m not saying that fan creations then were somehow inherently better for it than fan creations now (although Life on Mars Hiatus Era is perhaps a bad example - because some of the Speculation Fic there was breathtaking), but there is something to say about the ease of access that made the fandoms go through a big bang of sorts.

(I mean, come on, I can just come here and post this - and I am certain people will read it, and this blog is a pandemic cope baby about Chinese television for goodness sake.)

The canon transformations that happen in the fandom echo chamber truly are fascinating to witness as someone who is more or less a fandom butterfly. I get into something, float around for a bit, then get into something else and move on. I might come back eventually when the need arises, but I don’t sustain a hiatus mind-state. This means that when I float away and return, I find some very intriguing stuff.

Let’s actually look at Good Omens here. Season two aired, and I found it spectacular in its cosy and anguished way; deliberately and intelligently fanfic-y in its plot building; simple but subversive, and so very tender. (I will have to circle back to this eventually, because, truly, I love how deliberately it takes the tropes and shatters them - it’s glorious). And, to me - a person who read the book, watched the first season, hung around AO3 for a few weeks and moved on - absolutely on-point in terms of characterisation.

So imagine my surprise when the fandom disagreed so vehemently that there are actual multi-tiered theories on how characters were not in possession of their senses. Nothing there, in my mind, ever contradicted any of the stated text, as it stood. This remained a strange little mystery until I did what I always do when I flutter close to an ongoing fandom.

I loaded AO3 and sorted the existing fic by popularity. And there it was, all there: the actual earth-shattering mutual devotion of the angel and the demon; willingness to Fall; openness and long heart-aching confession speeches. There was all of the fanon surrounding Aziraphale and Crowley, which, to me, read as out of character, and to one for whom they became the reality over the last four years, read as truth.

Again, only neutral statements here. This is not a bad thing, and neither this is a good thing, this is just something that happens, after a while, especially when there are years for the fandom-born ideas to bounce around and stew. I can’t help but think that so much of what we see as real in spaces such as this one is a chimaera of the actual source and all the collective fan additions which had time and space to grow, change, develop, and inspire, reverberating over and over again, until the echoes fill the entirety of the space.

Eventually, this chimaera becomes a reality.

Part two. Microanalysis

Here are my two suppositions on the matter:

1. Some writers really love breadcrumb storytelling.

Russel T Davies, for instance, on his run of Doctor Who (and, if you are reading it much later - I do mean the original one), loved that technique for his seasonal arcs. What is a Bad Wolf? Who is Harold Saxon? Well, you can watch very very carefully, make a theory, and see it proven right or wrong by the end of the season.

Naturally, mystery box writers are all about breadcrumb storytelling: your Losts and your Westworlds are all about giving you snippets to get your brain firing, almost challenging you to figure things out just ahead of the reveal.

2. We, as humans, love breadcrumbs.

And why wouldn’t we? Breadcrumbs are delicious. They are, however, a seasoning, or a coating. They are not the meal.

Too much metaphor?

Let’s unpack it and start from the beginning.

Pattern recognition colours every aspect of our lives, and it colours the way we view art to a great extent. I think we truly underestimate how much it’s influenced by our lived experiences.

If you are, broadly speaking, living somewhere in Western/North-Western Europe in the 14th century, and you see a painting in which there is a very very large figure surrounded by some smaller figures and holding really tiny figures, you may know absolutely nothing about who those figures are, but you know that the big figure is the Important One, and the small ones are Less Important Ones, and the tiny ones are In Their Care. You know where your reverence would lie, looking at this picture. And, I imagine, as someone living in the 14th century, you may be inspired to a sense of awe looking at this composition, because in the world you live in, this is how art works.

If you, on the other hand, watch a piece of recorded media and see the eyes of two characters meet as the violins swell, you know what you are being told at that moment. You don’t have to have a film degree to feel a sort of way when you see a green-tinged pallet used, when cross-cuts use juxtaposing images, or notice where your focus is pulled in any given shot. This stuff - this recognition of patterns - has been trained into us by the simple fact that we live in this time, on this planet, and we have been doing so long enough to have engaged recorded media for a period of time.

As humans, we notice things. Our brains flare up when they see something they recognise, and then we seek to find other similar details and form a bigger picture. This often happens unconsciously, but sometimes it does not. Sometimes we do it on purpose: finding breadcrumbs in stories is a little bit like solving a mystery. It allows us to stretch that brain muscle that puts two and two together. It makes us feel clever.

So yes, we love breadcrumbs, and, frankly, quite a lot of storytelling takes advantage of this. It’s very useful for foreshadowing, creating thematic coherence, or introducing narrative parallels and complexity. It’s useful for nudging the viewer into one or the other emotional direction, or to cue them into what will happen in the next moment, or what exactly is the one important detail they should pay attention to.

Because this is something media does intentionally, and something we pick up both consciously and not, it is very hard to know when to stop. We don't really ever know when all of the breadcrumbs have been collected. It becomes very easy to get carried away. There is a very specific kind of pleasure in digging into content frame by frame, soundbite by soundbite, chasing that pleasure of finding.

But it is almost never breadcrumbs all the way down. They are techniques to help us focus on the main event: the story. I truly believe those who make media want it to reach the widest possible audience, and that includes all of us who like to watch every single thing ever created with our Media Analysis Goggles on and those who are just here to enjoy the twists and turns of the story at the pace offered to them. And I think, sometimes in our chase to collect and understand every little clue we forget that media is not made to just cater for us.

One can call it missing a forest for the trees. But I would hate to mix my metaphors, so let’s call it missing a schnitzel for the breadcrumbs.

Part three. The Conspiracy Brain.

If you are there with me, in the midst of the excited frenzy, chasing after all those delicious breadcrumbs, then patterns can grow, merge together, and become all-encompassing theories. Let’s call them conspiracy theories, even though this is not what they truly are.

So, why do we believe in conspiracy theories?

One, Because We Have Been Lied To.

All conspiracies start with distrust.

If you are in fandom spaces - especially if you are in fandom spaces which revolve around a queer fictional couple - especially-especially if you have been in such spaces for a period of time, you have most certainly been lied to at one point or another.

We don’t even have to talk about Sherlock - and let’s not do that - but do you remember Merlin? Because I remember Merlin. Specifically, I remember the publicity surrounding the first season, with its weaponised usage of “bromance” and assertions that this whole thing is a love story of sorts, and then the daunting realisation that this was all a stunt, deliberately orchestrated to gather viewership.

And, because we were lied to in such a deliberate manner for such an extensive period of time, I genuinely believe that it forever altered our pattern recognition habits, because what was this if not encouragement to read into things? Now we are trained to read between the lines or see little cries for help where they might not be. Because we were told, over and over again, that we should.

(Yes, I think we are all existing in these spaces coloured by the trauma of queer-bating. I am, however, looking forward to a world where I can unlearn all of that.)

Two, Cognitive Dissonance.

The chain reaction works a bit like this: the world is wrong - it can’t possibly be wrong by coincidence - this must be on purpose - someone is responsible for it.

Being Lied To is a preamble, but cognitive dissonance is where it all originates. In so many cross-fandom theories I have noticed a four-step process:

A) this is not good

B) this author could not have made a mistake

C) this must be done on purpose

D) here is why

(Funny thing is, I have been on the receiving end of the small conspiracy spiral, and it is a very interesting experience. Not relevant to this conversation is the fact that a lot of my job revolves around storytelling. What is relevant is that my hobbies also revolve around storytelling. And one of them is DnD. Now, imagine my genuine shock when one of the players I am currently writing a campaign for noticed a small detail that did not make a logical sense within the complexity of the world, and latched on to it as something clearly indicating some kind of a secret subplot. Their thinking process also went a bit like this: this detail is not a good piece of writing — this DM knows how to tell stories well — this is obviously there on purpose. It was not there on purpose. I created a clumsy shorthand. I erred, in that pesky manner humans tend to. And, seeing this entire thought process recited to me directly in the moment, I felt somewhere between flattered and mortified.)

This whole line of thinking, I think, exists on a knife’s edge between veneration and brutal criticism, relentlessly dissecting everything “wrong”, with a reverent “but this is deliberate” attached to it like a vice, because it is preferable to a simple conclusion that the author let you down, in one way or another.

Three, Intentionality

I believe that there is no right or wrong way of engaging with stories, regardless of their medium, and assuming no one gets hurt in the process. While in a strictly academic way, there is a “correct” way of reading (and reading into) media, we here are largely not academics but consumers; consumption is subjective.

However, this all changes when intentionality is ascribed.

The one I find particularly fascinating is the intentionality of “making it bad on purpose” because, as open-minded as I intend to always be, this just does not happen.

It certainly does not happen in long-form media. Even in the bread-crumb mystery box-type long-form media.

When television programs underdeliver, they also underperform, and then they get cancelled.

If all the elements of Westworld Season 4 that did not sit together in a completely satisfactory way were written deliberately as some sort of deconstruction for the final season to explore, then it failed because that final season will now never come.

(There will likely never be a Secret Fourth Episode.)

And look, I am not here to refute your theories. Creativity is fun, and theorising is fantastic.

But, perhaps, when the line of thought ventures into the “bad on purpose” territory, it could be recognised for what it is: disappointment and optimism, attempting to coexist in a single space. And I relate to that, I do, and I am sorry that there is even a need for this line of thinking. It’s always so incredibly disappointing that a creator you believed to be devoid of flaws makes something that does not hit in the way you hoped it would. It’s pretty heartbreaking.

Unfortunately, people make mistakes. We are all fallible that way.

Four, Wildfire.

Then, when the crumbs are found, a theory is crafted, and intentionality is ascribed, all that needs to happen is for it to catch on. And hey, what better place for it than this massive hollow funnel that we exist in, where thoughts, ideas and interpretations reverberate so much they become inextricable from the source material in collective consciousness.

Conspiracy theories create alternate realities, very much like we all do here.

So where are we now?

I am not here to tell you what is right and what is wrong; what is true, and what is not. We are all entitled to engage with anything we wish, in whichever way we wish to do it. This is not it, at all.

All I am saying is… listen.

Do you hear that echo?

I do.

#fandom thoughts #fanon #good omens #good omens 2 #bbc sherlock #merlin bbc #think piece #it's been years and I still have no idea how to tag #conspiracy theories #fandom content #all fandoms

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allforhee · 1 month

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*ੈ✩ — 𝐌𝐘 𝐍𝐔𝐌𝐁𝐄𝐑 𝟏 𝐒𝐔𝐏𝐏𝐎𝐑𝐓 𝐒𝐘𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐌. (BLURB) | SIM JAEYUN

୨୧ pairing — idol!jake x fem!reader

୨୧ synopsis — being jake's gf, you normally tag along everywhere. every concert, every fansign, every soundcheck. but with a heavy heart, jake has to attend another fansign without you. little does he know, you're in line with the other engenes ready to give him a little surprise.

୨୧ genre — fluff, cute coupley stuff, pouty jake

୨୧ warnings — trying not to show pda, suggestiveness, written on my phone so not proofread

୨୧ word count — 1,059 words (not proofread)

୨୧ author's note — hiya lovies! so sorry for the hiatus as i was going through a pretty bad of a burnout, and had little to no inspiration to write. but finally i had time to strike up a bit of inspiration to write this fic!! hope u all enjoy a bit of jake fluff :)

“right this way, ma'am.”

as you were escorted into the venue, your heart was beating out of your chest. unlike every other concert or fansign you’d attend, you’d normally be wearing a staff name-tag with access to backstage. but here you were, hand clasping an engenebong, a vip lanyard on, clad in jake’s favorite colors.

in your other hand was a small sign that read “sim jaeyun, send a flying kiss!”

sitting alongside with the other engenes, your plan ready to be set in action.

a few days prior, jake had initially invited you to the fansign, but you declined with an excuse that you had uni homework due.

“darling, i have a fansign in a couple days, you’ll be there right?” jake asks, as he sits on your couch, snacking on popcorn as you cook dinner.

“this saturday right?” you ask, thinking of what plans you have then. but then you remember. “i don’t think i’ll make it yunie, my professor wants to have a quiz for extra marks. i’m sorry my love.” you confess, turning off the stove before coming over to him and giving him a pat on the head as he pouts.

“really? can’t you just miss a couple marks?” jake begs, still pouting.

“i’m so sorry ikeu, i’ll have to miss out on this one. i’ll make it up to you next time, okay?” you try to reason with him.

jake gives a slight nod as he opens his arms to invite you into a hug, which you accept.

that was a few days ago. you found out your professor had moved the quiz a day earlier, which meant you had the whole day for the fansign. as you were thinking of a way to tell jake, an idea popped into your head.

you picked up your phone and dialed jungwon’s number, as you explained to him your idea.

he managed to snag you a last minute vip fansign ticket, where you are now.

with you and jake’s relationship not out in the open yet, you weren’t expecting anyone to notice you, other than the members. you were more scared on how jake would react to your surprise, rather than the fans.

as your hands pick on your cuticles (by habit), the members came onto stage. with jungwon leading the way and immediately spotting you, followed by a couple others like jay, heeseung, and sunoo. jake on the other hand, seemed out of the moment, but he was trying his best to hide his sad facade.

sunghoon and ni-ki were trying to cheer him up, before sunghoon took a glance in the crowd and saw you in the second row, holding your sign. he gave a knowing smile, as he signaled to ni-ki to look at where he was looking. he immediately spotted you as well.

as the members gave their opening greetings and interacted with the fans for a while, they sat down as the fansign begun.

the fans started making their way, and as you were in the second row, you had to wait a while to talk to the members.

you had one minute with each member, and jake being the last member, you had enough time to calm your nerves.

as your queue number was called out, you sprayed the last bit of perfume, before walking over to the first member, jungwon.

he gave you a high five and a wink, signifying that your plan went really well, “noona! you made it! did my ticket work?” he asked.

“well i’m here so yes it worked! i’m so excited but anxious to see jake though.” you sighed.

jungwon gave a smile as he was signing your album, before the staff had to escort you to the next member.

heeseung gives you a smile as he laughs at what you’ve done.

“you know, jake has been whining on and on about you not coming to today’s signing.” he laughs.

you giggle at his statement, “has he? well i’m as excited to surprise him today.”

heeseung smiles at you before signing a little smiley face at your album, and the staff calls you to move to the next seat.

as you move through the next members, jay, sunoo, ni-ki, with similar responses, as you were finally arriving at sunghoon, you were scared jake was gonna notice you.

sunghoon saw you and immediately gave a smile, knowing your plan. although jake was sitting next to him, he was too enthralled with keeping his mood up to notice you.

as sunghoon was signing your album, you whispered, “hoon, what should i say to him?”

sunghoon smiled and said, “just be yourself, you’re his girlfriend after all.” as your time ran out and you stood up.

the second you sat on that seat, you opened your mouth and asked “so, do you like holding all those girls’ hands?” as you lift up your right hand.

jake lifted his head up from signing your album, eyes slowly widening as he realizes who’s sitting in front of him.

“darling? is that you?” he asked, his voice nervous.

“yes yunie,” you assure him as you take of your mask, “it’s me.”

he takes your hand in his, as he puts it on his cheek, feeling your touch.

you laugh at the cute interaction, smiling the whole time.

“but you said you wouldn’t make it?” jake asks, his pout disappearing and a light blush taking its place.

“i have my ways.” you hint at him.

as you two were holding hands as jake was signing a heart on your album, the staff signaled that time was up, and that you had to return to your seat.

jake held your hand one last time, before he tugged you and whispered in your ear, “meet me after this, okay?” he winks, before letting you go.

you smile to yourself on the way back to your seat, as a couple fangirls call out to you, as you hear some things like;

“girl did he hold your hand the entire session?”

“no way what did he whisper to you?”

“how are you not fainting right now? are you okay?”

you walk past them ask you put your mask on, and sit down lifting up your sign.

jake immediately spots you and your sign, before throwing a flying kiss. you really were his number one supporter.

taglist; -

back to my masterlist?

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yikesmary · 8 months

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BOYFRIEND DUTIES — choi seungcheol x reader

summary: after a night out with your friends, your boyfriend, seungcheol tries to take care of a drunk you. as he is helping you get ready for bed, you start mumbling about an interesting topic

notes: yes hello everyone I haven't updated in so long and I come back with this subpar writing 👍. I am still on hiatus technically, but I missed writing and thought that this would be the way I would ease my way into writing so to speak. hope you guys enjoyed!

join my taglist!

"Cheol..." you trailed off, clinging onto him for dear life after he carried you out of the car and on the way into the house.

It was one of those rare nights where you, your boyfriend, and your friends were all free on the same night. Arranging a time when all 14 of you could hang out was hard, considering all of you had separate lives to live and jobs that had different schedules.

Which was why all of you decided to spend your day together by drinking, eating, and singing karaoke. You, being the lightweight you were, didn't take much before you were drunk and screaming with Soonyoung in the mic, singing to whatever song he decided to play even if you didn't know the song.

By the end of the night, you were plastered, stumbling all over the place and Cheol had to guide you in walking when you both left the karaoke place.

And that's how you found yourself in Cheol's arms, your cheek resting on his chest while he tried to unlock the door with the key while you were in his arms. Hearing Cheol's steady heartbeat, you found yourself slowly dosing off.

"Hey, baby, you can't sleep yet. We have to get you ready for bed," your boyfriend said, gently waking you up.

You whined at his interruption, burying your face into his chest, and shook your head no. You felt the rumble of his chest when he chuckled at your actions.

He managed to carry you all the way to your bedroom and placed you gently down on the bed. Cheol turned to go, but you sat up and grabbed his arm, and looked at him, your sleepiness was suddenly gone and you were now aware he was going somewhere.

"Stay?" was all you could muster from your drunken state.

"I'm just going to get a few things for you, I'm not going anytime soon," he told you.

You squinted at him, suspicious, before you let him go and watched as he walked out of the bedroom. He didn't take long and he walked back in with a glass of water and a pack of your makeup wipes. "I saw that you used up the last of your makeup wipes so I opened a new one for you," he said, placing down the glass of water onto the nightstand and walked towards you.

Grabbing the makeup wipe, he tried to remove the makeup the best he could without having to press too hard. You moved a bit, but he was able to get most of the makeup out.

Throwing the makeup wipe in the bin, he reached over to the nightstand to grab the water and handed you the glass to drink.

As you were drinking, Cheol once again exited the room and went into your shared walk-in closet. By the time you drank the entire glass of water, he came back out with pajama pants and one of his shirts you declared to be your sleeping shirt.

"Why didn't you get dressed yet?" you asked, grabbing the clothes and you gave him the empty glass.

"I wanted to make sure you went to bed before I did anything," Cheol replied.

You started tearing up, and you didn't know what triggered it, his thoughtfulness or the fact you were still kind of drunk, but it was probably the mix of both.

"Are you okay? Why are you crying? Do you feel sick?" Cheol started panicking once he saw your tears.

“It’s just… I don’t deserve you,” you said, tears starting to stream down your face.

“That’s not true! If anything, I’m the one who doesn’t deserve you,” he said, crouching down to kiss you on the crown of your head.

“But I’m the one who’s drunk and you have to take care of me while you could’ve easily spent more time with the guys,” you sniffled.

“You were having fun with our friends who we haven’t seen in a while. I wasn't going to leave you alone," Seungcheol softly told you.

"I love you so much," you told him.

"I love you too,"

taglist: @belladaises @winterpaos @minhui896 @baekhyunimochibbh @x-alightinthedark @whywontyousetfree @coffeesandrains @slaveofmydreams @bmkgemz @dandycharmer @outrologist @stagefrjghts @dahliatopia @exo-saranghajaaa @uhlatcha @watermelon-sugars-things @miniminimingi @venzline @withloveyjh @lockburn-castle @userjunhuii @mypsychicpizzaworld @violetvoo @maevadobreva @soonyoungblr @baekhyunstruly @ryusol @dunixxd @minhwa @ovai @scorpiobitch88 @icyminghao @cookiehaos @duskunt1ldawn

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dateko · 10 months

Text

˚｡⋆ [3:27 AM] GETO SUGURU

a/n: just stupid fluff and the only thing i can write (bitches in a bed). me breaking my long silence and hiatus just to post a suguru drabble... he deserves happiness, too.... this is truly my jujutsu kaisen... pls enjoy!

Suguru breaks the silence of the late night’s pitch-black embrace. Listening to his breathing with your limbs tangled together comfortably beneath the covers, you thought he’d been asleep by now. But it seems he has many things on his mind.

“Can I ask you something?” He speaks, voice low yet so incredibly soft.

You shuffle in bed before you respond, playing with the large calloused hands locked securely around your stomach. Suguru has always been clingy with you. Just only behind closed doors, away from the rest of the world. He’s always wanted you to himself, in places where only the two of you know.

“Babe, I’ve said it before and I’ll definitely say it again. Yes, you should go and get that tattoo. It’d look really good.” You mumble sleepily, trying to fight the drowsiness in your voice.

Behind you, you can feel his chest rumble with a chuckle, and his strong hands wander down to your hips, turning you around to face him with overfamiliar ease. The face before you is beautiful and captivating. Even in the dark, where the only source of light is the still moonlight that seeps through the curtains, your breath hitches at the sight of his golden, golden eyes. Suguru’s hair is down and slightly damp, his dark locks framing his face in a way that makes you want to bite his nose off. You could never tire of a face like this. And you were lucky to have it all to yourself.

“Not what I meant, but noted.” Your lover smiles.

Hard to resist, you reach up to tuck a dark strand behind his ear and to this does he melt. You exhale at the feeling of his warm cheek resting into your palm like he was molding himself into you.

“Then what?” A thumb brushes across the expanse of his cheek as you whisper back.

Suguru sighs before speaking again. “Do you love me?”

This time, you really do pinch his cheek and threaten to bite his nose off as you roll your eyes and return to your original sleeping position. You don’t need to turn around to see him with a slight pout on his lips, brows furrowed just a bit.

“Don’t ask me dumb questions you already know the answer to, Sugu,” You bring your hand back to pull his arm back around your waist. “Of course I do.”

“I want to hear you say it.”

“Let’s go back to sleep.”

You should know better than to think that Suguru would stop there. The bed dips slightly before you feel your wrists being pinned above your head and your lover moves his knee over your body so he can loom over your smaller figure, a saccharine and deliciously sweet smirk on his plush lips. The tips of his hair strokes your face, which causes you to scrunch your nose with a smile. You knew what you were in for immediately, but it was quite honestly way too late to be even reasonably horny. All you can do is huff and pout up at the man you love so ridiculously much.

“Say that you love me.” He tries again.

“Sugu…” You whine as you make a small attempt to free yourself from his hold, knowing well you could never beat his strength. It was all for show and you’ve decided there was no longer any point in trying to sleep tonight.

“Come on…” He pouts, loosening his grip around your wrist to lace his fingers with yours instead.

Your careful eyes watch as he lowers his handsome face to yours, lips only mere centimeters away from yours. Suguru raises a brow at how you stare at his lips with a hungry look before your eyes meet him again, begging. Thinking he would finally give in to your silent pleas to kiss you, your other half dips his nose into the crook of your neck instead. To this, your body deflates and you sigh at the feeling of his skin on yours, that nose you adore so much brushing along the soft expanse of your neck while leaving a trail of feathery kisses.

Suguru places a playful bite on your shoulder before pulling up to look at you once more. “Do you love me?”

You bring his lips back down to yours, to which he happily reciprocates with a smile. Pulling apart, you look at him and really look at him. Making sure he possessed every feature you have memorized for years and looking up at the eyes that only seemed to sparkle when looking at you. Finally, you smile.

“I love you Geto Suguru. I love you so much,” You pinch his cheek for good measure. “And don’t forget it this time.”

“Now that wasn’t too hard, was it?” He smiles before reaching under your (his) shirt to squeeze at your side. “I love you, too.”

#i'd follow suguru anywhere if he asked i'm so sorry but i can't contain these thoughts of him.. IM JUST A GIRL #geto x reader #geto suguru x reader #geto fluff #geto x you #getou suguru x reader #JJK

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asterrx · 14 days

Text

Lee Jeno x Male Reader

warnings: idol boyfriend jeno,blowjob,unprotected sex,bathroom sex,roughsex,etc.

The night at the concert, you were in the crowd, like any other person, with your lightstick and a banner to support your boyfriend, Lee Jeno who is performing.

Nobody knows that you're in a relationship with the idol that is on the stage with his members right now, the concert was mind blowing, it went so well, all the members gave their all, but Renjun couldn't be there because he was in a hiatus. And when they performed 'Smoothie' Jeno suddenly took off his shirt, shocking the members and all the people there, his well toned abs and his biceos, his mucles were all so manly, nobody could take their eyes off him.

Even though he's very hot and sexy, you were sonehow feeling sad, and jealousy starts building up deep inside you. You couldn't think straight, everybody, literally everybody at the concert has seen your boyfriend shirtless, you feel like something that has always been yours have been taken away from you. Seeing your boyfriend shirtless on stage having fun while everyone is drooling over him somehow makes you angry.

And after that he act al cute and innocent later at the concert, knowing damn well what he did.

After the concert, Jeno texted you telling you to meet him backstage, but you just ignored his message which confused Jeno, and eventually he calls you on the phone, "Hi babe, I was texting you but you weren't replying, can you please check your message..." he says, you just said yes and checked the message.

Then, you went to the backstage as Jeno asked you to, the members were there, greeting you with warm smiles and you could tell behind their happy faces they were really tired, it was such a long show.

Jeno hugs you from behind and says,"Hi baby boy, I've missed you",he pecks your cheeks, and you just stood stilk, not even reacting. Jeno was a bit confused, he can tell from your face that you were upset. So, he tries to lighten your mood, he asks you about the show, whether you liked it or not and you just ignored him which made Jeno wonder what he did wrong.

At the drive home, you stayed silent while Jeno talked about the show, how good it feels to perform on stage, you just listened without giving him any response.

Wanting to gain your attention, he kissed your lips softly, you just pulled away and told him to focus on the road and keep on driving. He was a bit sad, not knowing what made you upset, "Do you want to get ice cream?" he asked to which you replied,"I'm not in the mood to eat ice-cream", Jeno is now feeling bad.

You finally reached your shared apartment and as soon as you ckosed the door, Jeno pinned you against the wall, "Why are you ignoring me?" he said, "I'm not",you replied, "You were having fun right?" you added, Jeno had no clue,a look of confusion on his face, you rolled your eyes and headed to the bathroom to take a shower.

You entered the shower and took off your clothes, standing completely naked in front of the mirror, now you turned on the shower, the water was warm, it was really relaxing. On the other side of the door, Jeno was pacing back and forth, wanting to apologise, he snuck in tye bathroom and suddenly hugs you from behind, "Baby, please stop ignoring me...I'm sorry", he said, but you rolled your eyes, "Can you please get out, I'm not done yet...you can come back when I'm done", you said.

This time Jeno had enough, he sighed, then he suddenly turned you around to face him, manhandling you and he just started kissing you roughly, the kiss was rough, it was intense. So intense that you could swnse all the frustrations he was facing. "I've had enough", he said, then you mentioned about what he did on stage, then Jeno's eyes widened, "All I did was trying my best, and now you're complaining, it's frustrating...", he said, then he pulled you back in for another kiss.

His clothes are all soaking wet now, he ripped his shirt off, still kisding you, the kiss was driving you insane, all you could think of was how hot he was on stage, with all hos sweat dripping down his body.

Now Jeno finally pulled away, then he pulled his boxers down, revealing his big hard cock which sprung up in an instand, he took your hand and let you stroke it slowly, precum dripping from the tip of his dick, you kneeled down licking his precum clean, his dick was a bit salty and musky since he was sweating so much from the concert.

You are now bobbing you head up and down his big cock, taking it balls deep, Jeno throwing his head back, rolling his eyes back, he felt so good, you look up at him with teary eyes, Jeno looked down at you, the sight was like the hottest thing for him, he always liked to see you face while you suck him off.

After several minutes Jeno pulled back and lifts you up, he bend you down as you held on the sink for support, Jeno then stroked his dick and placed himself on your entrance, he suddenly thrust, balls deep, making you scream, it feels like your hole is gonna tear, even though you had sex with Jeno countless times, you're never able to adjust to his size. Then he started moving, his pace was rough and hard, your moans filled the bathroom, Jeno grunts, your reflection on the mirror as he was fucking you was making him more excited, then he started moving even faster, making you scream in pleasure, Jeno always loved it when you moan. Most of the times, you act all tough but when Jeno's in control, you're just a little hopeless kitty.

Minutes passed and you jave switched to different positions, you felt you orgasm approaching, Jeno xan easily tell from how your breath becomes faster, then he grabbed your cock and placed his thumb on your tip, "Wait for me", he said, you moaned louder, Jeno's thrust are now faster and harder, he was also about to cum, "Cumming", he whispered, just then, he released your cock, you came on the bathroom floof as Jeno buried his seed deep inside your hole.

After that you took a shower together, after care is what Jeno is a about, he is a monster when it comes to sex, but he takes good care of you as if he didn't just toom your ability to walk.

Then you walked out of the bathroom, changed into comfy clothes and then cuddled on the bed. "I'm sorry baby", he said, "I did it just for you", he added, "I was just jealous, that everyone got to see my hot boyfriend shirtless",you replied, Jeno was smiling, your words turned him on again, you can tell from his face. He was now ready for a second round, he's got that stamina of a fucking beast, then you just pretended to be asleep, knowing what wilk happen if you didn't.

#kpop smut #kpop x male reader #kpop x reader #jeno x male reader #jeno smut #kpop oneshots #nct dream smut #jeno x reader #nct jeno #nct dream #lee jeno #jeno nct #jeno #kpop male reader #kpop

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dollhog · 8 months

Note

You still alive?

Yes, thoroughly alive and haven’t stopped putting on weight. Need to come back with some killer pictures to show off how much I’ve gained on my accidental hiatus. Still haven’t weighed in, as I want to put on an extra 50lbs or so before I do, so that the number is truly shocking. But I would estimate I’ve put on a good 40lbs since my last weigh in, because I’m looking huge. I’ve been chugging a shake with each meal and eating copious amounts, and it’s really showing on my back rolls and arm fat. My double chin has become basically just extra lard storage at this point. Y’all have this pic I snapped to give you the idea of what I’ve put on until I take some better ones. My belly at its furthest point sits at my mid thigh ❤️‍🔥🕷️

#death feedee #gaining kink #death feederism #extremely obese #cute fatty #hot obese #morbid obesity #sexy obese #fat slob #fatty girl #feedie #gaining fat #fat piggy #fatty getting fatter #feedee feeder #gaining weight #stuffed fatty

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fairestwriting · 3 months

Note

Hello, if you don't mind, I want to request a sceanrio or headcanons (which one you more prefer is fine by me) with Jade insist to take care of his crush after a long day of dishwashing duty in Monstro Lounge despite his crush doubt that he might wanted to get them in his debt and does not realize that he did that because he has a crush on them? Feel free to skip this req if it's makes you uncomfortable though <3 Thank you!

oldie but one that i thought of a bit even when i was on hiatus... scenario format because maybe i want jade to take care of mw after a long workday too. What the hell

word count: 1345

pairing: jade x gn!reader

content warnings: wish fulfillment none:)

You exhale heavily, your shoulders slumping even without you willing them to, as the very last plate is cleaned to perfection, setting it down with all the others...

It's not that you expected a night of dishwashing to be the easiest thing in the world — but luck really wasn't on your side that day, and it turned out it was the third years' last day of exam week.

Which meant, the Lounge would be crowded. Which meant, you'd have a lot of dishes to wash. Which meant, as you just now discovered, your upper back, forearms, and feet would start to actively try to kill you.

At least it's all just over, you think. You pull off your apron and the rubber gloves that did nothing to keep your hands from going wrinkly from exaggerated humidity, then you turn around, ready to report to Azul that your shift was over—

Then, in your tired haze, you bump into something, someone, and it doesn't even register who it is until a firm grip on your upper arm keeps you from embarrassingly stumbling for a good moment.

"J...Jade? What are you doing here?"

He looks at you. His hand is still gripping your arm, though... it's done really softly, especially for an attempt at keeping someone from tripping.

And he smiles softly, politely at you. Like he always does.

"I could perhaps ask you the same question." He says, a lilt to his voice, releasing your arm as you step back into a balanced stance. "It's rather late, you know? Azul was even looking for you."

"Oh, was he?" You cringe at the way it comes out a little more bitter than you'd intended, but... you're tired, and Jade was... strange, but definitely not a tyrant. "Well, I was about to go look for him and say I'm done with the dishes. There was just..." You glance behind yourself, seeing the piles of plates and glasses, the dish soap bubbles that got everywhere. "There was a lot."

Jade's gaze follow yours, and his smile softens, even more when he looks back at you.

"In that case, why don't you let me inform him instead, and I could... get you something to eat in the meantime? You must be hungry."

Alarm bells ring inside your head. The offer is tempting, of course it's tempting, but this is still Octavinelle, and Jade is still Azul's... henchman, or something. You grimace while you try to get your tired brain to think of a response.

"Um... no, thanks, I'd rather not be indebted to—"

"Ah. You're worried about that?" He asks, and the look on his face, while hardly different from his usual poised smile, has a hint of... something different that you couldn't quite place. "In that case, we could arrange a way for you to... give me something in return?"

"Uh..." Again, the alarm bells continue. If they weren't mental, the noise would probably be intense enough to give you a headache— "I don't... think I have anything you'd..."

"Your company, in exchange for any menu item free of charge. How does that sound?"

What.

You blink, genuinely dumbfounded. Jade still smiles. Always does. You're not sure if it's a joke, a part of you says it's a bad idea, but...

"You want my company in return for the favor." You echo to him, and he nods.

"Yes. I'll tell Azul you're done with your work, and fetch you whatever you wish. Then we can get a sit while you eat. Does that work for you?"

"That..." You really wish you could protest, but at the worst moment possible, your own hunger makes itself known. "...okay."

"Lovely. You can wait at the Lounge. What would you like to have?"

You mumble out your usual order, still a bit confused, and he gives you a nod as you part ways. Out of the kitchen, you don't waste too much time in taking one of the seats with cushy chairs, sighing in relief when you feel your body sinking into them just slightly, supporting those overworked limbs.

The Lounge really was empty. You have a few minutes to stare at it, all by yourself — it really must be late — and even dare to bask in the comfy, yet classy lighting of the environment.

It felt so much different like this. No music, no people to serve. It was... relaxing, surprisingly. Even though it was your workplace, and the source of quite a lot of stress in your life...

"The boss is notified. Here's your food." Jade chimes in with a playful tone after what feels like way too little time, setting a plate of your very favorite Mostro Lounge special in front of you. You can't help the way your eyes widen at it a bit, still not fully grasping the situation.

"And Azul is okay with this?" You grab the fork, but look up at Jade first, watching as he takes a seat in front of you.

"Of course. I wouldn't do that otherwise."

He chuckles, and despite your cautiousness, you can't resist the urge to dig into your food. It tastes even better after all that work.

And for some reason, it makes Jade's smile just a touch brighter when he watches you eat.

"It's important to eat well, you know. I hope you've been getting enough meals lately. Exam weeks are never kind."

"Yeah, I... I mean, I'm doing fine. If I want to keep up with all the work, I have to eat."

You take a larger bite, and he continues to watch you. With one more sprinkle of energy in your system, you start to try to understand what got to him all of a sudden. You look through his features, usually so unreadable and static, and you search for... something. Anything.

A sign this was a strange prank, maybe.

"That's good to hear. In any case, though, I'll discuss with Azul to have better planning for evenings like these... Friday nights and such. I wouldn't like to see you so overworked again."

You stop chewing for a split second when you catch on to his wording. I wouldn't like to see you so overworked again. Maybe you're just too tired, and making this all up, but...

What's different in Jade's face now is that there's a hint of sincere softness. One that doesn't even look all that unfamiliar— that you swear had been there when you had brief chats during work hours, even.

Your face flushes. Is he...?

You lift your gaze away from the food, and meet Jade's eyes. He's still smiling, hands folded politely on the table, though it's small enough that when you set your fork down, you swear you feel your hand brush against his glove.

"Thank you... for this, Jade." You mumble out, unsure of what to say. He gives you a smile like he always does, but in this empty, silent Lounge where you're not even sure if you're seeing things right, it makes your heart flutter.

"Thank you for the company. It really was a busy night." He gets up, taking your plate. Only now, you notice you're done eating. "I'll take care of these, don't worry. Just head back to your dorm and rest up. Unless..."

You blink at him again, now unsure of how your brain could even withstand so much confusion. "U...Unless...?"

"...Unless you'd like me to escort you?" He says, and his eyes narrow slyly, glinting— now, wait a minute...

Floyd and Azul were still supposed to be there, weren't they? They always were during closing time. Which meant...

Of course. Of course Jade would only go about something like this as deliberately as possible.

He chuckles. Your face is hot all over and his smile is wide. Skillfully, he carries the plate in one hand as he makes his way to the kitchen.

"Just wait for me if you do. We can make another deal if you want."

And then, he's out of signt, and you're left with a dizzying feeling.

if you wanna support my work, you can buy me a ko-fi or commission me!

#twst #twisted wonderland #twst imagines #twst scenarios #twst x reader #twisted wonderland x reader #jade leech #jade leech x reader #lis writing

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motherofdogs1010 · 17 days

Text

A Jedi in Arrakis III (Paul Atreides x Reader)

Summary: While on the run from Empire troops, Jedi padawan Y/N comes to find out that hyper-driving in a compromised craft can have some major setbacks when she discovers not only is on a new planet but a whole new galaxy as well...

Warnings: 18+ only, eventual smut, eventual pinv! sex, current fluff and eventual angst, kissing, simp!Paul, spoilers for Dune 1 and 2, somewhat canon aligned

A/N: Sorry for the hiatus, loves! I'm back and ready to grace you with my works!!

Dividers by @firefly-graphics Banner by @vase-of-lilies

Part I Part II

The Baron was a man of heavy weight and heavy glutton, he liked food and power with women waiting for him. He liked the power that Geidi Prime gave him, but most of all, he liked the power that controlling Spice, no controlling Arrakis gave him.

This is why he felt anger towards the Emperor for forcing his soldiers off-planet and handing his cash cow to the damned soft-hearted Duke Leto and his house.

He hated House Atredies with a passion and he could recall the countless interactions he had with Duke Leto, the heated arguments he had with the man.

Which is why he felt happy when the Emperor proposed the slaying of House Atreides, the slaughtering of those damned fools.

"There is a rumor floating around", one of his advisors said, "of a girl from not of this galaxy that the Duke has taken in, someone with some extraordinary abilities. The Emperor wants her alive, especially since the na-Duke is said to be quite taken with the girl."

The Baron grumbled as the sound of the Sardaukar's throaty chanting filled his ears.

It was another hot day on Arrakis, the dry heat of the planet making Y/N wonder why Paul and other members of House Atreides were wearing all-black. Y/N had been offered a loose, beige dress that she wore with a scarf covering that concealed her head and neck from the harshness of the sun that came down on the planet.

"Tell me more about Arrakis", she said to Paul as he led her outside. "I feel like we've only ever talked about our home planets."

"Everything I learned is from the archives", Paul began as she noticed a place of worship ahead of them. "The people who inhabit the planet call themselves Fremen, they're the only ones to ever to successfully live here. The sandstorms here are brutal, they ravage and destroy anything that crosses them... maybe not a sandworm, but anything yes."

Paul spoke in a gentle yet enthusiastic voice that made her stomach flop around and she felt her ears begin to get hot. She was embarrassed at the way he was stirring feelings, forbidden feelings in her as they walked along the compound.

"They value water here the most and the Spice they are constantly exposed to gives them blue eyes. Not much is known about them since they prefer to remain to remain remote."

"And you said Spice is what is needed to travel?" she said, Paul nodded.

"We rely a lot on Spice, which is why it is so unheard of that you traveled here without Spice", Paul clarified. "The Emperor gave my father control of this planet to find peace with the Fremen People but before, House Harkonnen controlled it."

Y/N saw inside the temple many people praying; religion wasn't something uncommon back home, there were so many from the Mandolorians to the Sith but she had never really seen such worship before.

"What are they praying to?" she asked, gesturing to the people.

"To Shai-Hulud", Paul said as a warm breeze came by, "it is also a Fremen custom to spit at one's feet with how they value water."

"We greet and say goodbye by saying 'may the force be with you'", she said with a small grin.

She missed home despite the intrigue this galaxy brought, although she wondered how much was about the galaxy than it was her interest and growing intrigue with Paul.

🪐

Jedi law dictated that love or any form of romantic feelings were forbidden yet Y/N could recall a conversation she had with Anakin about the law.

"It's an odd law", Anakin had said, "love is the strongest form of the Force yet it can also be your weakness."

Y/N wondered about it as she walked the halls of the compound; Paul had been pulled away by his mother, Lady Jessica as she said that the Reverend Mother was wishing to speak to Paul. It gave her time to contemplate on her growing feelings for Paul with BB following behind, letting out a little chirp every so often.

Lady Jessica had been pleasant to her, the woman reminding her of some of the older Jedi Masters with her way of speech and stance, but Y/N had managed to piece together that it had to be from strict upbringings and belief of the Bene Gesserit.

"Ah, F/N", a familiar voice called out to her and turning around, she saw it was the Duke, himself.

"Oh, Duke Leto", she said, "how nice it is to see you. Thought you'd be caught up doing Duke stuff."

Duke Leto chuckled as he said, "I'm on my way to find Lady Jessica."

"She took Paul to meet with some Reverend woman?" Y/N said with a questioning tone.

Leto sucked in a breath and nodded, Y/N wondered just how this Bene Gesserit ideology worked. It was nothing she had ever seen before back home and seeing the way the Bene Gesserit sisters carried themselves intimidated her just a bit by how their eyes singularly focused on you as if they were truly trying to dissect you right down to your core.

She just hoped that she wasn't about to fall into their cross hairs.

Another night came to Arrakis with cool air and a beautiful night sky that always kept reminding her of Tatoonie as BB charged in the corner. Her hair was down again and she was in another loose muslin nightgown to help with the heat of the planet; she had the doors closed along with the windows as she sat in her room, watching a hologram archival documentary on the planet.

The Duke was pleasant to talk to, he was knowledgeable and kind, and for some reason reminded her of Obi-Wan.

A knock, a familiar knock echoed in her room and she tried to suppress a smile as she knew it was Paul.

Walking to the door, it slid open to reveal the young na-Duke but she could see something was troubling his mind a bit as she greeted him in.

"Something troubling you, Paul?"

Paul looked at her as they sat on the small sofa that was in the room.

"Your way of believing is so simple yet so understandable", Paul breathed, "my mother was supposed to birth a girl, it's how it's been for eons with the Bene Gesserit."

"Why?" she frowned.

"I think... it's so they could eventually get their Kwisatz Haderach", Paul voiced, Y/N frowned. "It's their Messiah, a male heir that possesses the abilities of the Bene Gesserit."

"And you think it's you?"

"I hope it's not me."

She remembered Paul's earlier explanations of the abilities of the Bene Gesserit sisters and their use of something he called 'the Voice', which reminded her of the way the Force could be used to manipulate weak minds.

Paul was quiet for a moment before he scooted closer to her and she felt her breath get caught a bit in her throat as she stared at him.

"I have these... visions", Paul said, staring into her eyes. "I dream of things that I'm never too sure of and for months, I dreamed of a girl... I dreamed of you."

Y/N felt heat rushing through her as the sound of the hologram documentary rang quietly in the room.

"And ever since you've arrived, it's felt like I've been living a dream... a dream that I never want to wake up from."

And before she knew it, she felt Paul's lips against hers in a soft, gentle kiss and her heart raced as she felt a surge of electricity go through her...

So many thoughts were running through her mind in that quick moment and maybe it was the instant connection she had felt towards Paul, maybe it was some odd corruption from the Sith side of the Force that made her entangle her fingers through his dark, curly hair and push her body against his lithe frame.

But all she knew at the moment was that Paul felt like home.