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#I cannot BELIEVE how lucky we are this year
artists-ally · 20 hours
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{Fake It Like You Love Me} Azriel x Reader x Xaden Riorson x Cassian
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*slowly creeps up from the depths of hell* Heeeeeeeey, glad you guys remember I still exist 😭😭 First off, THANK YOU for 600 followers. That's insane and I don't deserve you all so thank you so fucking much. SECONDDDD, here is another part of my Fuck Away The Pain series!! Sorry this has taken me so long to do, but I think you for your patience. As always, let me know what you think and feel free to drop a request if you have any!!! Enjoy! Title and series inspired by this song.
Part 1: {Show Me Where It Hurts} Part 2: {Dirty Little Curse} these do not need to be read in order to be enjoyed!
Word Count: 7,630
Warnings: Smut. Like... an alarming amount of smut. ACOTAR x FOURTH WING, Dom/Sub, MMMF, use of the nicknames "pet" and "sir", oral (M and F receiving), pet play, degrading, praise kink, choking, spanking, cum eating, unprotected sex.
Tagging: @lees-chaotic-brain @thelov3lybookworm @needylilgal022 @librafairy @cyrygher @agent-anna @blessthepizzaman @bubybubsters @highladyofterrasen7 @annabethgranger123 @acourtofbatboydreams @thatacotargirl @berryzxx @throneofsmut
Summary: It is just after the legendary snowball fight. Azriel, Cassian, Rhys and Xaden are in the sauna while you, Mor, and Feyre are inside the cabin. Once Rhys leaves, it seems that there is a vacant spot that needs to be filled.
~~~~~
“So, explain this to me again?”
“Every year, they have a snowball fight. They just keep going and going and going until there’s a winner,” Feyre explains. “This is the first time you and Xaden are here so I think they’re taking it easy.”
From off to the side of the cabin, we hear a shout and then a chorus of laughter. 
“Maybe not,” Mor says, peeking out the window. “Cassian just decked Riorson in the face.”
I giggled, sipping my warm tea and curling my legs under myself. “Probably made fun of Cassian’s hair or something. Called him a wet dog.”
“You know damn well that animal will come in here and shake like one too.”
“And after the sauna? Yuck, it’s going to smell for ages in here,” Mor shakes her head.
“The sauna?”
Both of them stop dead in their tracks, exchanging a knowing glance. Feyre looks at me with a twisted smirk. “You don’t know about the sauna?”
“Should I be afraid?” 
“Definitely,” Mor grins, setting down her cup. “After they get done, they all go into the sauna together.”
“Naked?” I dare to ask.
“Terribly so,” Feyre adds. “A few years ago, on my first trip to the cabin, I got Rhys kicked out because… well, he just couldn’t stop thinking of me.”
I damn near choked. Then I burst out laughing. I can imagine it. Rhys, Azriel and Cassian sitting in the sauna together. It must be some sort of rule they have. If one of them gets a little too hot and bothered, they’re out. But the thought of them all in there, Azriel and Xaden sweating… does some pretty magical things to my brain.
And the space between my thighs.
“Gods you are just as bad as they are, Yn,” Mor fake gags, coming to sit next to me. “Don’t get too excited. None of us have ever been in, and none of us ever will.”
“Really? That’s kind of shocking, honestly.” There hasn’t been one exception? “I know Cassian is a bit of a…”
“Male whore?” Mor fills in the blank. It makes me giggle. 
“I don’t quite know everyone well enough to make those assumptions, but Cassian definitely gives off a certain… aura.”
“Oh please, he’d take it as a compliment,” Mor smiles, playing with some of my loose hair. “But no, not even him. Now, what I cannot believe is how you ended up with both Az and Riorson. That is truly a work of art.”
I can’t help the smile that blooms onto my face. “Some are just more blessed than others.”
Feyre barks a laugh, “I’ll say. You got lucky with those two, you know.”
“I know. We’re not like– together together, but they take very good care of me. I honestly kind of like it. It's all the best parts of a relationship without having to worry about if everyone is getting enough attention. They give me what I need, and I give them what they need.”
“Have you ever asked for more? To be in a real relationship?” Mor asks, curiosity getting the best of her. Feyre smacks her in the shoulder. “Ow!”
“Don’t be insensitive,” the High Lady reprimands. 
“Don’t be silly,” I wave them off. “I’ve thought about it, but I don’t think that’s what I want. Sure, being in love is great and all, but why complicate it? We work flawlessly together right now, why change? If either of them brings it up, I’ll be open to the idea. But for right now I’m thriving. They are far too generous anyway. They constantly bring me gifts or invite me out to dinner. They’re doing enough for me. Far more than enough.” “Not to mention the world's best sex,” Mor wiggled her eyebrows at me. “What’s it like with the two of them? Are the rumors of the Illyrian true? What about Xaden, is he packing too? Gods I bet he is, isn’t he? Now, I am the last Fae in Prythian who’d want to be taken by two males, but… for the both of them? I might reconsider. Tell me, does Az-”
“Cauldron boil me,” Feyre sighs. “I’m getting a drink.”
“Ooh! Will you bring me-”
“No,” Feyre scolds, heading into the kitchen.
“Crony bitch.”
“I heard that!” Feyre shouts from the other room. 
Mor and I share a laugh, snuggling in close together. “This is so fun.”
“Isn’t it?” Mor says, “You’re always welcome back, Yn. I’m not sure I’ve ever seen Az so relaxed. He looks… happy. And I can’t vouch for Riorson but he looks like he needs this too.”
“Yeah it’s been a stressful couple weeks for Xaden. There was a huge issue in his homeland and he nearly lost his life. His dragon is bonded to someone else in his squad, and her dragon almost died. It was scary. I’m just glad he’s okay. On the flight up here he was giving me all his strategies on how he was going to win.” There’s a loud cackle from outside and the sound of bodies running into each other. I looked over the back of the couch, seeing Xaden at the bottom of the pile, snow being shoveled into his face. “Guess they didn’t work so well.”
“They’re probably done now,” Mor explains.
“Sauna time?”
“Sauna time.”
The door opens and the four males clamber in, shaking snow from their hair and clothes. 
“I’m gonna get you back for that Rhys,” Xaden grins, evil intent behind those onyx eyes. 
“I’d like to see you try. Hey Mor, hi Yn. Where’s Feyre?” Rhys pats the top of Mor’s head, offering me a kind smile. 
“In the kitchen!” She calls, the High Lord following the sound of her voice. 
Cassian makes a b-line for the couch, shaking his head like a mutt. Mor squeals, I just shut my eyes and take the damage. When I open them, he snickers and sits on the floor, sighing loudly. “And that makes 181 wins for yours truly.”
“Then he must have cheated,” Mor gags, wiping off Cassian’s grime with the bottom of her shirt. “For fucks sake Cass you stink.”
“I’m a hard working male,” he begs to differ.
“Only thing you’re working is gonna be my foot in your ass,” Mor chides, standing up. “I’m going to shower, I smell like a dog.”
“You wish you smelled as good as me. Sorry to catch you in the crossfire, Yn.”
“It’s all good,” I smile, rubbing the few drops I got off on my sleeve. 
But the look on Xaden’s face when he comes to sit next to me reflects anything but. He’s got a scowl directed at Cassian, but he makes quick work of masking it, planting a kiss on my cheek. A moment later, Azriel does the same thing. 
“Should you be sitting on the couch?” I ask. Xaden’s hair a soaking wet mess, his clothes more the same. 
“Trust me,” Azriel chimes in, “There have been far worse things on this couch.”
I blink at him, wondering if I would need to burn my clothes after this. He plops down next to me, slinging an arm over the back of the couch behind my shoulders. 
Cassian looks between all three of us. Clearly seeing the size difference and taking notes about it. “I should probably keep my mouth shut.”
“That would be wise, brother,” Azriel grumbles, stretching out his legs. “Where's Rhys? Im fucking freezing and I wanna go in the sauna.”
“He’s in the kitchen with Feyre,” Mor said, rounding the corner from the washroom. She clearly didn’t shower, but she smelled much better. “And we all know what happened the last time the two of them were left alone here.”
“What happened?” Xaden and I asked at the same time. 
“Nothing,” Azriel, Cassian and Mor responded in unison. 
The dragon rider and I shared a look, a silent promise to ask Az about it later. We had a nice evening planned, dinner with everyone, and then they were going to let Az, Xaden and I spend the night in the cabin. We’ve never been here before today so it was a generous offer. I can tell how much this place means to all of them. 
No one needs a vivid imagination to get an idea of what’s going to happen later. 
“Fuck him,” Cassian pushes to his feet, binding his hair back with a strip of leather. “Come on, let's get started. He can decide later if he wants to join.”
Cassian and Xaden head out the door, but Az stays seated next to me. “Having fun?”
“Of course,” I reassured, patting his thigh. “Mor and Feyre are very kind. And this is a lovely cabin.”
“Good, I’m glad.”
“Looks like you two had a lot of fun,” I smile, resting my cheek on his damp shoulder. “You smell far better than Cassian.”
“Naturally,” Az smirked. “And yes we did. Xaden needed it, you needed it. It’s always just been the three of us every year, but it felt right to have Xaden here in the mix. You too, obviously.”
“Glad I could make the cut,” I joked, receiving a pinch on my ear. 
“Brat.”
“That’s not even close to me being a brat and you know it.” “Don’t I ever,” he grinned, covering my mouth with his. Despite the chill coming from his body, his lips were warm and soft. Full of life, vibrance, and need. “By the sound of it, Rhys won’t be joining us in the sauna. We won’t be in there long, will you bring us some towels around four?”
I looked at the analog on the wall, the hands reading 3:22pm. I nodded, “Sure.”
He curled my hair around his fingers before standing, following the other two outside. 
In the meantime, I hung out with Mor and we talked about random stuff. She tried to get more details about Az and Xaden, but I wasn’t willing to give them up. We played a few card games, had a snack and a glass of wine before she winnowed off the mountain and back to Velaris to meet some friends at Rita’s. 
Just as I was curling up with a book, I felt a cool whisper circle my wrist. A strand of Azriel’s shadow wrapped around and around in a never ending bracelet. I smiled, looking at the clock. Just seven past four. I head for the closet, grabbing three thick, soft tan towels. 
Damn, it's cold out here. How do they not freeze to death? I carefully step in their footsteps so my toes don’t get frozen off. There is a little stone path to the sauna and I gladly jump from stone to stone. With the towels under my arm, I knock on the door. 
“I brought your towels, they’ll be out here on this chest,” I shouted, unsure if they’d be able to hear me through the thick wood paneling. There was a small jut out from the roof over the door, ensuring they wouldn’t get covered with snow.
“Will you bring them in?” Xaden calls.
I skidded to a halt, damn near knocking myself over. Did he just say what I think he said? “I thought no females were allowed in the sauna?” 
“Don’t be ridiculous,” Cassian’s voice boomed. “We just need the towels so our bits don’t freeze off. You can close your eyes if you’re scared.”
Scared? I wasn’t scared, but I didn’t particularly care to see Cassian sprawled out with all his glory on display. Well, okay that's a complete lie. Ever since I first saw the Lord of Bloodshed, I thought he was… well… hot. He’s tall, all thick muscle and confidence. He knows he’s hot shit. I’d imagine if he were a closer friend that confidence might piss me off, but I think he’s funny. He knows what he’s got and he’s not afraid to show it. 
“Are you going to bring them or not?” Xaden shouts.
Oh. Right. The towels. 
I take a steadying breath and push open the door. A wave of humid, damp air blasts me in the face, instantly melting the flecks of snow on my hair and lashes. There isn’t a light save for a few windows to let some ventilation in. It's dark, but I can make out the three figures. Azriel and Xaden are to the left, and Cassian is to the right. 
I keep my eyes on my boys and place towels in Xadens open arms. “Thank you, my dear.”
“Of course,” I smile, carefully avoiding any glimpses of Cassian in my peripherals. Just before I can reach the safety of the outdoors, Azriel’s hand wraps around my wrist, gently tugging me in front of him. His other hand curls around my hip, pinning me still. “Yes, my shadow?”
He all but purrs at the nickname. “Stay.”
Stay. Stay? As in… in here? With him and Xaden and Cassian? “You guys enjoy your time together.”
I tried to take another step, but he sat up, gripping my body to keep it positioned between his powerful legs. I trailed my eyes down his torso, seeing a bit of a surprise waiting for me. “I told you to stay.”
Heat flooded my body, a different heat than the one coursing through the sauna. I quickly glance at Xaden to see him exchanging a glance with Cassian across the way.
“I- I wouldn’t want to kick Cassian out just because you want me, Az. That’s rude,” I say, my breath hitching when he slides his hands under my thick wool sweater. He rakes his nails down my back and I momentarily forget that there is a third set of eyes watching. 
“I don’t think Cassian would mind the show, would you, Cass?” Azriel looks around my torso at the Illyrian, and I have to force myself not to do the same. 
There isn’t a verbal response from him. 
Az roughly grips my hips, forcing me to sit down in his lap. His mouth attaches to mine before I can make a sound. I flinch momentarily when he bites down on my lip, his pace fast and aggressive. The sauna is silent save for the sound of our lips meeting. 
Sweat begins to swell around my hairline, trickling down the back of my neck. He removes my sweater and tosses it towards the open door. I wasn’t wearing a bra, and the hot air coats my bare back. Azriel breaks the kiss, latching onto my neck and collar bone. 
“Az,” I say, already breathless. “Wh-What are you doing?”
“Are you telling me that you’ve never thought about Cassian before?”
Shit. SHIT.
“I- well I didn’t- not in the way you think I would’ve I was just-”
“That certainly didn’t sound like a no, Yn,” Azriel looks up at me, a knowing glint in his eye. “Did you think I wouldn’t notice?”
“I- I didn’t think… I would’ve never thought that-”
“You have five seconds to tell me to stop. One.”
“Azriel I-”
“Two.” He pushes me back to my feet. 
My knees buckle and it’s an effort to keep myself upright in the sweltering humidity. “Why would I have thought that you and Xaden would want-”
“Three.” He stands, towering over me.
I huff in annoyance. “Azriel, stop counting-”
“Four.” Az makes me take two steps back, advancing on me.
“Xaden will you please fucking-”
“Five.” His fingers wrap around my throat and push me back. Directly into Cassian. A second set of hands find their way onto my body. Cassian grips my hips, keeping me from falling. I am deathly still. I hardly breathe. I don’t dare make a noise. “You’d like it if Cassian joined, wouldn’t you?”
I don’t respond. 
“She looks petrified,” Xaden points out very matter-of-factly. 
“I like it when she’s scared, she obeys when she is. Isn’t that right pet?” 
One word. One stupid nickname and I’m under his spell. Fuck, of course I want Cassian to join. I haven’t ever seen him without clothes, but he doesn’t leave much to the imagination. “I- I umm-”
“Just admit it and I’ll let you go,” Azriel demands, tightening his fingers for emphasis. It’s nowhere near a dangerous amount, but it makes my breath hitch.
“Yes yes,” I rush out, senses on fire. 
“Yes what, pet? Come on, you know the rules. If you want Cass to join you have to tell him.”
Azriel releases me, and if it weren’t for Cassian holding me up, I would’ve keeled over. The combination of the restricted airflow and the density of the heat in the sauna was going to make a lethal combo. 
And I craved it. 
I quickly slipped under, fully ready to play with the three of them. I gently turn and look down at Cassian. His bronze skin is shining with sweat, hair still bound behind his head. I take a deep breath, swallowing. “Would you like to play with us, Cassian?”
His eyes dilate, tongue darting out of his mouth to wet his lips. “I thought you’d never ask, darling.”
Relief floods me and I smile. I am so thrilled he said yes. I look over at Az and Xaden, waiting for their command. I desperately need them to tell me what to do. This is already so overwhelming in the best way possible. 
“Why don’t you be a good girl and welcome Cassian, okay?”
I don’t need to be told twice. Like he knows what I was thinking, his knees spread apart, inviting me in. I sink down to the floor and stare up at him through my wet lashes. “Messy or clean?”
A grin spreads across the Illyrians mouth. “Oh, she’s good. Messy, darling. I want to see you ruined.”
Cassian’s finger separated my lips and I sucked on his thumb. He pressed down on my tongue, and I swirled it around his digit. Meanwhile, his other hand fisted himself, and I couldn’t help but take a glance. 
Cauldron boil me alive–
I delicately reach a hand out and replace mine with his. The warrior's head falls back and he shuts his eyes. My hand is so much smaller than… well, every part of him. I stroke up and down, gently thumbing the small slit at the tip. A few drops slide down onto my finger and I generously lick them off. He definitely tastes similar to Az, but nothing like Xaden. 
The moment my tongue circles him, he cuts loose a moan deep from his chest. 
“Fuck you’re so warm,” Cassian lifts his head, taking in the sight of me taking him in. I swallow around him, drawing more sounds out of him. 
“I think what makes it so good is she loves doing it. Don’t you, Yn? You love being stuffed full,” Azriel comes up behind me, his presence stealing my breath away. Maybe it’s the added heat that makes my head dizzy. “That’s right, work him all the way down. Get him nice and deep.”
I push and push my head all the way down his cock, taking a moment to stay still, just emphasizing exactly what I can do. Cassian laughs at me, full on laughs. A mocking sort of sound that spreads goosebumps all across my skin. He bucks his hips, really testing how far he can push me. 
“Oh, she’s good,” he grunts, head tipping back again. “Keep that perfect mouth moving, darling.”
My ears are ringing a little. Whether that be from the heat or the sheer overstimulation, it’s hard to tell, but I didn’t react right away. The next thing I knew, one of Azriel’s hands was fisting my hair, the other braced at the back of my head. I nearly choked when I was ripped away and then slammed down onto his cock a few times. 
“You heard him, Yn. Take his cock like the good slut you are,” Azriel reprimanded. He continued to overpower me, making me work up and down on Cassian. I let my jaw go slack, along with my hands braced on Cassian’s thighs. I let out a content sigh as I was fucked on Cassian’s cock. 
I rocked with Azriels movements. His grip singed my scalp and an ache formed in my jaw. It was familiar, ignorable, but present nonetheless. I was glad to have them doing all the work, it was far too hot in here to think clearly… even without the added exertion.
When Az decided I got the memo, he let go of my head and I continued the motions with steady practice. I closed my eyes, feeling every drop of sweat on my body. My thick, fleece lined leggings were beginning to soak through. Xaden’s calloused hands found their way to my waste and began to slide them off. With a pop, I pulled off of Cassian, giving my jaw a much needed break. Xaden peeled them from my legs, taking my underwear with them. But, before he let me sit back down, he laid down on his back, beckoning me to ease on top of him. 
“Surely you’ll suffocate, it’s already unbearably hot in here,” I huff, catching my breath. 
“Then I shall go doing what I love most,” the dragon rider replies. “Sit.”
I looked to Az, silently asking if this really was a smart decision. He just gave me a pointed nod with narrow eyes, a promise that if I didn’t listen he’d make working for my release miserable. So I obeyed without a second thought. 
The moment his tongue curled into me, I sighed. Aimlessly, my hand worked tentatively up and down Cassian’s shaft, drawing a few sounds out of the General. “Let me fuck your throat, darling.”
There must’ve been a sparkle in my eye because I grinned, opening wide for him to do so. His length was thick. Almost too thick. And long. Fucks sake everything about him was big. I was up for the challenge. As it hit the back of my throat, I relaxed, letting his hands fall around my ears. It was gentle at first, his thrusts long and even. I moaned in tandem with the licks I was receiving from Xaden, my mind a melted, scrambled mess of ecstasy. With a particularly hard suck on my clit, I jerked the opposite way Cassian was going.
“Ah ah ah,” he chided, clicking his tongue. “You don’t get to run away from me. Take what you’ve been given. Be a good fucking girl, Yn.”
I glance up at him, throat too full to make any noise. A third set of hands– Azriels, so experienced and commanding, settled on my breasts, plucking and pulling. I could feel everything and nothing at the same time. My entire body was numb with pleasure, numb with exploration of the three of them. 
Azriel. Xaden. Cassian. All three of them, the most powerful warriors of their respective worlds, all focused on one thing. One goal. 
Me. 
Cassian picked up his pace, the thrusts less deep, but far more firm. It was clear he was chasing his high, thick veins beginning to bulge in his arms… up his chest… in the column of his throat. 
“She does such a good job at taking it,” Cassian praises. “Doesn’t gag, doesn’t complain. Look at all those pretty tears. All for me, darling? Do I fuck you so good you need to cry? It’s okay, I’ll lick them clean. Then make them spill down your neck again when I get to fuck your pussy.”
My heart thrashed in my chest, thighs shaking with the force of Xaden’s tongue against my core. I writhed my hips, breathing harshly through my nose every other thrust because that’s all Cass would allow. At some point Azriel’s hands left the mix. I couldn’t see him anywhere, but his presence remained. Those shadows replacing his skilled fingers. 
My body was wound tight. I was already anticipating a fun night with just Azriel and Xaden. But now? With Cassian? A new fire had been set ablaze inside me. And it needed– no, demanded, to be let out. I tried to warn Xaden, I tried to ask for permission, but I couldn’t with Cassian’s grip on my head. I fiercely moaned, hips shaking so badly that Xaden had to lock me in place. 
“You can let go,” Azriel commanded from somewhere behind me. I silently thanked him. 
Like a crack of lightning, my release barreled through me. I came so hard my vision whited out, a faint ringing bounding between my ears. Moans of pure pleasure spilled out of me and right onto Cassian. The extra vibrations must’ve done wonders from him because his grip faltered, as well as his pace. His head slumped forward and his eyes rolled shut. 
“Fuuuuck, whatever you’re doing to her, Riorson, you better not fucking stop. Keep her moaning like that. Fuck I’m gonna cum so hard. Want it, pretty pet? Want my cum down your throat, filling your belly?”
He released my head, bidding me to give a verbal answer. After what Xaden just did to me, I’m not sure that’s physically possible. “P-Please, sir” I sigh out, my voice in an atrocious state already. “Wanna make you feel so so good.”
The use of ‘sir’ must’ve really done something to him. He sat up, a corrupt, unforgiving smile creeping onto his cruel lips. “Sir? That’s a dangerous game, my darling.”
“She doesn’t mind a little bit of danger, does she?” Azriel grips my hair again, pulling my head back so I have to look up at him. I nod carefully, the strain in my neck almost too much. “Yes she does. Now get to it, I'm getting impatient.”
Bad things happen when Azriel is left uncared for. And who was I to make him suffer?
I stuck out my tongue, a silent beg for Cassian to slip back in. He did without further coercion. The first time my nose brushed the soft hair on his pelvis, I could’ve sworn it was an accident. The second time, I realized it wasn’t. I couldn’t breathe, a small panic settling in every crevice of my body. I tried to keep calm, but between a relentless Xaden under me and a ruthless Cassian in front, it was near impossible. 
“F-Fuck fuck fuck fuuuucccckkkk,” Cassian shouted, the muscles in his thighs and abdomen flexing. “Gonna take it all? It’s gonna be a lot, can you handle it, darling? Yeah I think you can. I’ll make you either way. Stay niiiiice and still for me- oh fuck-”
At the last second, he pulls me off about an inch and the humid, sweat filled scent of air floods into my nose. I drink his release down. It’s thick and warm, salty and abundant. I hum around him as I swallow and swallow and swallow. My eyes fill with tears yet again and they escape down my cheeks. 
Cassian shudders. With gentle laps of my tongue, I clean him up. He watches me attentively. I can’t help the smile that forms on my lips when our eyes meet. 
“You…” he breathes heavily, chest swelling and falling. “You are a little devil, aren’t you?”
The Illyrians hand wraps around my throat and he pulls me to my feet, and off of Xaden. The way our tongues met could’ve moved mountains. He was not shy in showing how much he wanted me. I melted into him, straddling his thigh and letting my arms drop to my sides. 
Azriel played with my hair, hands caressing my ass. Together, they brought me down, content to let me relax for a few minutes. 
“You did so well, pet,” Azriel cooed, dragging his tongue over the shell of my ear.
“So fucking good,” Cassian murmured against my lips. “Such a good little girl.”
I could hear Xaden climb to his feet, the sound of his hand stroking his cock loud in the otherwise quiet room. “I will never, ever, get tired of making her cum on my tongue.”
“Should I have a taste?” Cassian asked, placing small bites on my throat. 
“I actually had something else in mind,” I sighed out, getting lost in all the hands and tongues. He gave me a curious look, but I just smirked, easing onto shaking legs and turning around so my ass was in Cassian’s lap. “I want to play a game.”
“A game?” There is an obvious hint of danger in Cassian’s voice? “What kind of game?”
“I want you and Xaden to fuck me, and I want Azriel to tell you when to move and when to stop.”
I haven’t yet brought it up to Azriel and Xaden, but I’ve always wanted to do this. A game of red light green light. To give full control and power to him, making us work for our pleasure. I look at Azriel, gauging his response, but he just grabs my chin, bringing our faces level. 
“Yeah? You wanna play a game? Want to be treated like a literal pet? Taking commands and performing tricks?” His voice is thick with desire, so low only we could hear it. 
My heart skips a beat. I hadn’t thought about it like that before. But the idea is… it’s-
“Look at her face, Cass,” Xaden tilts his head mockingly. “She wants it so bad, don’t you, pretty girl? Would you like a collar, that way if you get lost they know who you fucking belong to? Gods she’s so red. Don’t be embarrassed, pet. We know just how much you love being fucked full of cock and cum.”
“Sit on his dick, Yn,” Azriel orders. “Now.”
Silently, I hover over his lap, letting Cassian guide my hips. At the first press of his tip, I gasp. A new thrill thrummed through me. 
Azriel comes and stands in front of me, cupping my cheeks. “I know he’s big, but you’re gonna take all of him. And you’re going to like it because you asked for it. So, here’s your first trick. Sit.” 
The Shadowsinger pushes on my shoulders, leaving no option but to take Cassian all the way. All. The. Way. My breath is lodged in my chest with no room to escape. I can’t think. Can’t hear. Can’t see. Can’t even begin to process what is about to happen. 
“Oh, good girl Yn,” Xaden praises, still stroking himself. “Look at how pretty she looks, Az.”
Cassian grunts behind me, hooking my legs over his knees so the others can see him buried inside me. I cry out at the shift, feeling him go deeper and deeper. Gods, he feels like he’s everywhere.
“Cassian, why don’t you play with her nipples,” Azriel instructs, walking back and forth in front of us. “Xaden, give her something to suck on.”
“With pleasure,” Xaden grins, those onyx eyes narrowing on my mouth. I go to protests, but then I realize just how hard he is. How flushed his skin is. And I need to taste it, to relieve him of his torture. 
He traces my lips with the tip, coating them in his slick. With a heady pant, I stick out my tongue to invite him in. 
A hand cracks down on my thigh. I scream out, more in shock than in actual pain. Azriel’s hand was the culprit. 
“Did I say you were allowed to taste it yet?” His eyes are swirling with lethality. I bite my tongue to keep myself from saying something stupid. “Well?”
“N-No,” I say meekly. “I’m sorry. May I taste it, Az? Can I please taste Xaden?”
After a minute of letting the question hang in the air, building suspense, he nods. Greedily, I take Xadens hips and bring his cock towards my mouth. 
It’s such a glorious sound to hear when Xaden curses low. A deep rumble in his chest letting me know this is exactly what he needed. Without moving– fearful I’ll get another smack– I look at Az, awaiting my next instruction. 
“Fuck her throat, Xaden,” Az says, eyes scanning out bodies. “Start fucking her nice and slow Cassian. Really savor her, make her moan just like Xaden did for you.”
At the same time, both of their bodies start sliding in and out of me. They find a rhythm instantly: Cassian fucks me forward onto Xaden, and Xaden fucks me back onto Cassian. It’s easy enough to let them do all the work, my bones and liquid at this point anyway. All I know is pain, pleasure, and unfiltered need for these males. 
I moan deeply as Cassian hits that spot inside me. Xadens hip stutter, his head tipping back as Cassian hits it over and over again. 
“Does that feel good, Xaden?” Azriel asks, gripping his hair at the root, whispering right in his ear. “To have our girls' mouths all around you?”
The dragon rider nods as best he can with Azriel’s grip. “Fuck yes.”
“Make her stop.”
“W-Why?”
“Because I told you to. Yn, stop,” Azriel demands. I instantly pull my mouth away from Xaden, even if it makes me want to scream and thrash and beg for it back. I need it, need to taste it, need to feel him cum down my throat. “See, she listens to me. Do I need to punish you too?”
“No,” Xaden shakes his head. “I’ll listen.”
“Yes you will.” Azriel gives a fake smile. “On your knees.”
Xaden sinks to his knees. 
“Suck on Yn’s clit. Make her cum on Cassian’s cock.”
The sight of Xaden, on his knees, cock leaking continuously, does something to me. It gives me ideas for later. He helps push open my legs, even when the first brush of his tongue makes me see stars. Cassian has to wind his arms around mine to keep me from sliding off. I know he’s strong, but to be able to hold me still and keep fucking me is…
“Good boy, Xaden,” Azriel praises, brushing his hair away from his face. “Just like that, make our pretty girl cum.”
It’s not going to take long. His laps are so soft, so gentle, and it works far faster than I’d like to admit. 
“Az- Az can I cum?” I ask, just to be cautious. I do not want to have this taken away from me. I can’t have it taken away from me. 
“Yes, pet. Cum as much as you want.”
It’s like music to my ears. It’s building and building. In my core, at the base of my spine. Behind my eyelids. It’s fucking everywhere. My vision goes white and an embarrassing noise tears from my soul. I writhe on Cassian, driving him further and further inside me. Sweat is dripping off me in buckets. Fuck it is so fucking hot in here.
“Very good Xaden,” Azriel says. “What a good boy, making our pet cum so well. You can stuff your cock back down her throat. She looked so sad to see it go. Go ahead and cum, fill her up nice and full. Cassian, get up.”
Suddenly I’m on my feet being steadied by several pairs of hands. The way Cassian is looking at me, the way he’s breathing, tells me I’m in trouble. The glances passed between Az and Cass worry me. The next thing I know I’m on my knees and elbows, ass up in the air.
“Sit on the floor, Xaden,” Azriel commands. “Right in front of Yn. Yup, there you go, now just let Cassian fuck her onto you.”
A shudder runs through my entire body when Cassian slips back in. I swiftly take Xaden down, mainly because if I don’t I’m going to go crazy. The delicious, sweet taste of him fills me once again and I hum in content. 
“Don’t hold back Cassian, chase exactly what you want. Fill up her pussy as much as you want, she can take it.”
“Fucking hell, Az. Are you trying to kill me?” Cassian chuckles, letting his motions pick up pace. Every snap of his body into mine sends waves of pleasure down my spine. It rolls through me and allows me to take even more of Xaden in my mouth. “I’ll never get over just how fucking tight she is.”
“Malek spare me…” Xaden curses. I get to watch Xaden fall apart and a new thrill fuels my motions. I lose all concept of time, I have no idea what is going on. All I know is Cass is fucking me like his life depends on it, and that Xaden is holding on for dear life. 
I suck as hard as I can, pressing my tongue into the bottom side of his cock. I can’t pay attention to the most sensitive areas of him, mainly because Cassian if fucking me too hard to let me. Hopefully I can make him see stars anyway. 
“F-Fuck Yn, I’m gonna cum,” he warns, knees falling open. “Oh fuck I’m gonna cum.”
“Give it to her, Xaden,” Azriel kneels beside Xaden, hand trailing over the muscles in his chest. 
I watch the muscles in his abdomen clench with every breath. He scrunches his eyes closed and I brace for him, letting his hips rut as fast as he wants. With a long, drawn out growl, Xaden releases down my throat. I do my best to swallow it all, but between the angle and Cassian's relentless thrusts, I let a few drops spill out. 
Xaden is throbbing on my tongue, his sounds of pure pleasure fill my ears, filling me with deep satisfaction. 
“Can’t fucking take it anymore,” Azriel rips me off of Xaden and takes his place. I’m hauled up onto my palms, Azriel’s cock bobbing in front of me. Before I can take it between my lips, Azriel bends down to my level, licking the droplets of Xadens cum off my lips. 
I went as still as a statue. Tingles spread from the tips of my fingers to my toes. I watched him swallow, his Adam's-apple bobbing. I was at a loss for words. If he wanted me to speak, it’d be impossible. 
Thankfully I didn’t have to. He filled my mouth, not wasting a second. 
“Xaden, will you go grab those towels?” Azriel asked, hands trailing over my shoulders. 
“When I can move,” he responded, making the Shadowsinger and the General laugh. I swore I could feel the rumble of his laughter through his cock. 
“Not gonna last much longer,” Cassian warns, adjusting his grip on my hips.
“Wait.” Azriel urges, “Give me one minute.”
Cassian stills, and I whine in discontent. A second later, his hand smacks my ass, undoubtedly leaving an imprint of his hand. “Don’t complain, pet. Or you won’t get anything at all. You should be grateful to be stuffed full of our cocks. That’s no way to disrespect a guest.”
Azriel is unforgiving as he fucks my throat, his pace fast and hard. To be fair, he has been waiting a long while for his turn. It doesn’t take long for him to start showing signs of nearing his high. He grabs both sides of my sweat-soaked head, and I feel drops from his own body–and Cassians–land on me. 
“Want my cum?” Azriel asks, pulling me off. “Want me to cum down your little throat, pet?”
“Yes yes yes,” I slur my words together. “Please gimme all of it, need all your cum. Wanna taste you so bad.”
“Yeah you fucking do,” Azriel’s grin is sinister. He knows exactly what to say to make me squirm. “Drink it all up, slut.”
When he finally gives me what I want, I don’t dare waste a drop. I leave no mess to clean up as he cums all the way down. There’s nothing I can do but swallow, swallow, swallow.
I begin to lose some consciousness, the heat and over exertion finally catching up to me. I feel Azriel slip out, praising me and telling me how good I did. I think I nod, but Cassian resumes his motion and I forget about everything. I can only focus on him pounding into my pussy, getting so deep I have to let out little noises every time he does. 
“She’s so fucked out,” Xaden says from… somewhere. 
“Yeah she is, she looks so good. Limp and used. So fucking hot, Yn,” Azriel agrees. 
I moan in response. It’s about all I’m capable of at this point. And it feels so good. Everything they did to me, every thrust from Cassian feels like I’m floating. I close my eyes and let him finish me. 
As Cassian lets go, I feel him pin my shoulders to the ground, ramming his hips as hard as he can into me, filling me up nice and tight full of his cum. There's a big stretch, and then an almost immediate release. His warm slick flows out from around him and down the inside of my thigh. Tears or exhaustion and pleasure streak down my cheeks and fall onto the wood floor of the sauna.
Eventually, I’m laid on my back. I can barely open my eyes, but I feel a tongue lapping between my legs. I try to inch away, but firm hands keep me from closing my legs. I whine. 
“Ah ah,” I hear Cassian chide. “He’s just trying to clean you up. Be still. Here, drink this.”
A cup is pressed to my lips and I hungrily drink down. The salty, briny taste is washed from my tongue and my blurry vision begins to steady. I look down, seeing Xaden between my legs, his curly head soaked with sweat. 
Cassian’s thumb brushes my cheek, collecting a small tear. “Aww, poor baby.” I watch as he licks it from his digit. It… gets me going faster than I’d like to admit. Then his tongue trails the length of my cheek. I shudder, letting out a tiny squeak. “Told you I’d lick them clean.”
“Alright that's enough, Xaden,” Azriel says from up above. “Let’s get her inside and cool off.”
“I just couldn’t help it, her pussy looked so good full of cum,” Xaden winks at me, and I can feel a flush of my cheeks and neck. “Even after all we’ve done together, I still make you blush.”
“Zip it,” I glared at him, failing to keep my smile at bay. 
Cassian lifts me up, hugging me close to his chest. We’re all covered in sweat, but I don’t give a fuck. I just want to take a nice bath, curl up with my boys, and sleep into next week. A cold burst of air greets me as we step outside the sauna. 
“Is she doing okay?” Azriel asks. I think it’s him that brushes hair away from my face. 
“Mhm,” Cassian responds, giving my body a squeeze. “She's gonna be alright?”
“Yeah,” Xaden added. “She always recovers really well. She’s not afraid to tell us what she needs. But by this point we know what she needs.”
“My only request is a bath.”
“See?” Xaden chuckles, then plants a kiss on my head. “Feeling okay? Not too lightheaded?”
I make a noise that sorta sounds like an ‘mhm’, but it kinda comes out as a garbled mess. All three of them give a laugh. 
“That was… more fun than I thought it was going to me,” Cassian sighed contently, padding down the hallway to one of the bedrooms. I'm set gently on the bed, propped up against Cassian. I am way too tired to open my eyes, but my ears track them all around the room. I can smell the soft lavender wafting from the bathroom. Hallelujah. 
“Yeah, I’m glad you joined,” Xaden agreed, his fingers beginning to braid sections of my hair. “We’re just waiting on the tub to fill up, pretty girl. Then we’ll get cleaned up and go to bed. You did such an amazing job, taking us all like that. And the game? We’re going to have some more fun with that, aren’t we?”
“Yes we are,” I nodded, peeking open my eyes to find them all huddled around me. Azriel smiles sweetly, cupping my face, stroking his thumb back and forth across my cheek. “Hi.”
“Hey,” he whispers. “Feeling better?”
“Yeah,” I nod, clenching my hands to get some of the tingling to go away. “It was so hot in there.” 
“We even turned down the heat before you got in there,” Xaden explained, tucking some hair behind my ear. “Did you have fun?”
“I always do, did you?” I asked, looking up at Cassian.
“In the beginning I was a little unsure but… now I’m hoping you’ll send word any time you wanna play again,” He grins, pressing a kiss to the top of my head. “You were unbelievable.”
“Isn’t she something else?” Azriel looks at me fondly. “Baths ready, want to be by yourself or do you want one of us in there with you? Or… well, I guess we all can fit if that's what you want.”
“Well I’m certainly not going to wash my own hair,” I grin.
They all share a look, smiles creeping onto their mouths. 
“I’ll get the shampoo,” Azriel winks.
“I call the conditioner,” Xaden stands, following Azriel into the bathroom. 
I can’t help but laugh. 
“Are they always like this?” Cassian watches as they root around in a cabinet, smelling the different bottles. 
“Yes, they’re too kind to me.”
“I think it’s well earned,” he smiles, helping me stand. “Come on, let's go.”
I let him lead me in, making sure I get a good look at his ass. Damn. just… damn.  
“I could ask Feyre to commission a painting, it’ll last longer,” he says cockily. 
I give it a smack. With a helping hand from Azriel, I sink into the tub, and let the water cool off my skin. I lean back, wondering how I got so damn lucky.
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rist-ix · 2 years
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How was your first day of school?
Let’s just say this semester's theme is “Crime” and leave it at that
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astriiformes · 1 year
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Today is the seven-year anniversary of when I followed Scribe back on tumblr, which is the sort of thing that makes for a significant relationship milestone for two internet-friends-turned-queerplatonic partners.
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beatlesforsale · 11 months
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I cannot believe that Sigur Rós just keeps making incredible music, no matter how long it's been. This is their first single in 7 years. Their first album since 2013 is coming out this month. Every time I listen to their music It just sends me back to a place of peace and tranquillity where everything is okay and all the hurt and pain in the world mellows out. I was so lucky to see them with a friend for the first time in 2017 and I cried when I saw them for the second time last year with my partner in a huge stadium and I cannot believe I live in a world where music like this is created and exists. Just phenominal.
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theoldsports · 6 months
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married.
Coriolanus Snow x reader | 5.5k words
alcohol makes consent messy, substance abuse, manipulation, arranged marriage, public humiliation, two-way abusive relationship <3
Coriolanus may well replace Lupin as my favorite guy to write for. he’s fucked up. i can’t fix him, but i could certainly make him worse.
As quietly as possible, [Y/N] closed the door to Coriolanus’s lavish new apartment behind her. She didn’t particularly want him to know that she had left the apartment in the first place. There were always too many questions.
[Y/N] had recently moved in with Coriolanus since their engagement. Her parents had arranged their marriage with his grandmother, affectionately called the Grandma’am not long before she passed. Coriolanus was about the most desirable bachelor in the Capitol. Not only was he an excessively handsome twenty-three year old, but he was also growing increasingly wealthy and had recently received his first assignment as a Gamemaker working on creating a new arena structure for the Hunger Games. Everyone who was anyone in polite society knew of Coriolanus Snow.
And [Y/N] hated him with everything she had. She had to see his defiant smirk in school every day for years since they were twelve or so. She hid from him every chance she got at home. [Y/N] slept in another room away from him. The only advantage of their marriage were the politics and name recognition for the both of them.
“I didn’t realize you were going out.” Coriolanus said flatly, snapping [Y/N] from her thoughts. She hadn’t even realized he had been in the apartment’s common area. He was sitting calmly in an putrid-looking armchair, alarmingly still.
[Y/N] gasped and clutched her chest in surprise. “Is there a problem with my leaving?” She said quickly.
“No problem.”
[Y/N] looked at him curiously. “Okay.” She said and moved passed him to her bedroom.
After a moment of pause, Coriolanus appeared in her doorway. He leaned against her doorframe with a hand in his pocket. “Where were you, by the way?” He asked plainly.
“I don’t see how that’s your business.”
“It was beginning to get late. Our engagement party’s in two hours. I cannot very well attend an engagement event without my fiancée. So. Where were you?”
“Dry cleaner’s.”
Coriolanus let out a scoff. [Y/N] could see him get hot under the collar. “You expect me to believe you were—Where’s the laundry?” Coriolanus questioned.
[Y/N] reached into her coat pocket for the stub of her laundry receipt. “Dropping off, not picking up. You’re on Lucky Flickerman’s next week. Dropping off my dress ahead of time. Anything left you would like to accuse me of?” [Y/N] sighed, leaned against her desk chair.
“Do not speak to me like that,” Coriolanus begun, sighing. It was obvious that he felt undue humiliation from her response. “It’s childish and unbecoming.”
“So is your being a hypocrite.” [Y/N] snapped back instantly.
The pair fought daily. Never had Snow laid a hand on her, but it wouldn’t be surprising if he did one day. [Y/N] didn’t recall any particular fights he had been involved in at the Academy, but it doesn’t mean they didn’t happen.
“Stop acting like a child!” Coriolanus repeated. “Are we not allowed one remotely pleasant moment together? You know I don’t want this just as much as you, but here we are. Can’t we be civil?”
“I am capable of civility, yes. You, on the other hand…”
“You’re disgusting. You don’t know how to listen. It blows me away. I asked you a simple question that a married couple should ask the other when one is gone. Now you’re screaming at me like a little girl. Grow up.”
“Grow up? You wanna talk about childish; you’re selfish, demanding, and cold. I’m scared to death of you. You make me feel like a toy, not a person, Coriolanus. I was always pretty fucking certain children had toys, not grownups.”
“Good gracious… Fine! Be that way. Cause a fucking scene!” Coriolanus screamed. His temper flared. He got that look in his eye that only men can get when they lose something they wanted. “My coat and tie are black. I’m assuming you’re not intending to clash or something, so just letting you know. Y’know. Communication. The polite thing to do.” He reported and stormed out of her room to his own. Her door slammed so hard behind him that she feared in may splinter off its hinges. What must the neighbors think of them?
[Y/N] resisted the urge to shout for Coriolanus to drop dead.
She was left to ready herself alone. As she pulled out her dress (that wouldn’t look foul against Coriolanus’s coat and tie) from the closet, she caught a glimpse of the engagement ring on her finger. White gold with a moderately sized ruby set in the middle. She was told both the gold and the stone were real, but she had her doubts to some extent. She found it was difficult to believe anything Coriolanus said. The ring made it clear that Coriolanus didn’t truly know [Y/N] because she had always worn silver jewelry. She felt isolated from all her prior jewelry pieces as now, none of them matched.
Then, [Y/N] stepped into her dress. A flowing black ballgown with a full petticoat and a glittery exterior over the fine satin it was made from. She couldn’t quite complete the buttons running up the dress’s back. She sat down at a small vanity Coriolanus had purchased her to do her hair and makeup. She assumed he would be hard pressed by the fact she couldn’t button the back of her own ballgown; that she was incapable or needy.
After dragging kohl and shadows over her eyelids, among other things, she set out to find the correct pair of shoes to match the dress.
The problem with dressing to match Coriolanus is that he was excessively tall. This meant every dress had to be accompanied by the tallest heels one could find. [Y/N]’s ankles ached just thinking about a night in shoes like that again. With her makeup done and her dress unbuttoned down the back, [Y/N] set out to find the red heels Coriolanus had purchased for her. She sat unceremoniously on the floor with her large skirt fluffed out around her to dig in her closet for the shoes.
Coriolanus was fastening his white gold and ruby cufflinks that matched [Y/N]’s engagement ring when he knocked at her door.
“Yes, what?” She shouted from the floor.
Coriolanus pulled the door open without asking if she was decent. “I was going to ask if you were ready, but I can see that you aren’t.” He sighed. Coriolanus never apologized after a fight, instead he tried to placate in whatever way possible. He was incapable of an apology, [Y/N] thought. Whether it was buying her something, taking her out, helping her find something she had lost, that’s what he would do to ease his own guilt. If he could feel guilt.
[Y/N] sighed as well. She was unwilling to engage in verbal sparring with him now. She lowered her head in a visual show of defeat. “I can’t find my other shoe,” She said weakly. “The red ones you got me.”
“The red heels?” He asked quietly. Coriolanus perceived she was not much in the mood for his attitude, and felt his residual anger cool off several degrees.
[Y/N] nodded hopelessly. She didn’t want to go to the engagement party. She didn’t want to be marrying Coriolanus under terms such as these. [Y/N] felt like property and everything hurt.
“Let me look,” Coriolanus said. What he meant to say was ‘I’m sorry for everything,’ but what he said was: “I’ll help you look. Don’t wrinkle your dress, alright?”
[Y/N] stood up awkwardly, holding the falling bodice of her dress up. She felt uncomfortable being so vulnerable in front of him like this. “Sorry, I couldn’t button the back.” She said. With her free hand, she reached around the back of the dress in an attempt to close it.
“Don’t apologize. I’ll get it. Turn,” Coriolanus commanded plainly. [Y/N] did as he said. He notched the buttons down her back with ease. “You should’ve called for help. I didn’t realize you were struggling.” He said. He patted her shoulder to signify he was done with the back of her dress. Coriolanus moved in front of her closet and bent down to find the missing left red shoe.
It was silent for a moment. “Of course you weren’t aware I was struggling.”
Coriolanus offered no reply. He understood what she meant.
“Aha!” He said after a few moments, holding up a matching set of shoes. Coriolanus placed them on the floor in front of her so she could step into them. He offered [Y/N] a hand for stability as she did so.
“Thank you,” she said. “Hey, Coriolanus?”
“Hm?”
“Are you nervous?”
“No,” he replied, standing up from the carpeted floor. “Are you?” Coriolanus’s blue eyes were piercingly inquisitive. Eyes that didn’t want to know you, but to consume you.
“Yes.”
“Really? Why?” Coriolanus asked. It didn’t feel rude or hot-tempered. It was merely a plain question. It made [Y/N] feel safe to answer, even though she remained guarded.
“I’m presenting myself as the soon-to-be wife of the most important thirty-under-thirty in the Capitol in an arranged marriage. And you hate me. You have hated me since we were children. My life is over, Coriolanus. This is for you and for my family’s honor, evidently. What do I have left?”
“You think I hate you?” Coriolanus asked, bending his neck to look at [Y/N]. “I don’t hate you.” [Y/N] wasn’t sure how truthful the statement was.
“Well, at least, you don’t like me.”
Curiously, Coriolanus placed a hand on her neck and dragged his thumb across [Y/N]’s jawline. “That’s such shit, [Y/N]. I didn’t realize you thought that of me. That you… Felt that way at all,” he started carefully. “Rather, and this sounds silly, I enjoy arguing with you. I sort of thought you did as well. You’re ruthless, I admire that,” He smirked and paused for a breath. “I do like you. Believe it, or not. I’ll just have to figure out a way to show you better,” Coriolanus’ hand slid from [Y/N]’s throat, down her side and back to eventually rest at her waist. She blinked up at him, surprised at the luxury of such unexpected contact from him. “Your life is not over. You wanna work, work. You want to not work, stay home. Please, allow me to do what I can for you. I can open doors. Whatever you want, name it. Things, opportunity,” [Y/N] nodded at the word ‘opportunity.’ “You’re meant to be my wife and I’m… really, I’m one of the best resources there is around here. Let me use that advantage. Had I known sooner, I wouldn’t have wasted all that time and money buying you things you hate.” He attempted a casual joke, holding her too close to him.
They were closer physically than they had ever been. Due to their proximity, [Y/N] had to rest her hands on Coriolanus’ chest as she stared up at him. She didn’t know what to say, so she nodded and straightened the red rose at his lapel. “You just might get yourself that unified front with me if you bring home your work…”
“You’re interested in Gamemaking? Since when?”
[Y/N] rolled her eyes. “We’re going to be late. We can speak about this later.”
“By all means.” Coriolanus leaned down awkwardly and kissed her. Maybe it was out of duty, maybe out of desire. Neither of them knew. They had shared the occasional peck on the lips for social reasons before, but this felt a bit different. It was charged somehow. A promise.
When they separated, [Y/N] stared at Coriolanus. He was all eyes - blue, blue, blue. He blinked at her. She blinked back. “Come on, we’ll be late to our own party.”
The whole ride to the event venue, Coriolanus had kept his hand on [Y/N]’s thigh. This was an unusual gesture. Normally, he didn’t chance touching her, even by accident. It was an unspoken agreement to keep their distance.
“I’m gonna be sick.” [Y/N] groaned into her palm as she exited the vehicle, led by Coriolanus toward the door of the event hall. The building had been destroyed when they were children in the war and had been recently restored to its former glory.
“Same thing as earlier, or did you decide I’m the worst person on earth?”
“Same as before. Haven’t decided about the second thing. My parents are going to be here too. You remember them?”
“Yes. I’ve met them… Twice, I believe—”
“Tread carefully.” [Y/N] said, offering no additional support.
Coriolanus nodded in solemn understanding. His eyebrows knitted together, knowing one more nasty, exhausting troublespot would be in his way tonight. He hated social gatherings as much as [Y/N]. With all the gentleness he could muster, Coriolanus took her hand. “Heading inside… Unified front?”
“If I must.” [Y/N] said.
With that, the night took off. Bright flashing cameras reflected off the black and white marble of the building, and applause rang off the large, cavernous walls. Everyone was shaking their hands, greeting and congratulating them, and stopping them for overly pictures at every turn. For a moment, [Y/N] truly believed that everything in her life was perfect, because everyone around her seemed to assume that it was. It made the pill of her future easier to swallow.
Coriolanus led her around the room with ease. He introduced her to many individuals whose names she would not remember tomorrow. She was beginning to develop a stunning routine of artifice with him as Coriolanus puppeted her around the room. Each interaction functioned with a greeting from Coriolanus to the stranger, he would remove his arm from [Y/N]’s waist and drag it down her arm into her hand in order for her to showcase her striking gown. Then he would say “isn’t my fiancée beautiful?” or “isn’t she just divine?” or “what a lucky man am I?” [Y/N] would chuckle and compliment him back with “my Coriolanus, ever the charmer!” or “isn’t he just divine?” or “what a lucky woman am I?” accordingly. They would smile sickeningly and pretend they were in love, he would lean in and kiss [Y/N] on the cheek, and she laugh warmly at his ‘spontaneity’ and place a hand on his chest, or straighten his tie.
After that, they would move on to greet the next poor sucker and repeat the process.
Eventually, [Y/N] dragged Coriolanus off to the side so she could relax her artificial grin. “Sorry, I need a moment. My face hurts. And that last man and his wife, was that his wife? They stunk. They smelled so foul it is unreal.”
Coriolanus smirked. “Those were my next door neighbors growing up. Vile. They’re very heavy morphling users, if you couldn’t tell with the glazed over look and twitchy eyebrow.” Coriolanus mocked.
[Y/N] laughed, hard. “Oh, you’re terrible!” She jeered. “Damn, what I wouldn’t give for morphling tonight…”
“Don’t tell me you’re a junkie, now.” Coriolanus pressed.
“Junkie is such a strong word…”
“Well, since I can’t get you high out of your mind at the moment, best I can offer is posca. I can grab you a glass and you can hide from the onslaught for a moment.” Coriolanus offered.
“Please. A particularly stiff glass if you can swing it. Or whiskey!” [Y/N] said. She watched Coriolanus turn to leave for the bar. [Y/N] tucked herself in a corner behind a noble Corinthian column for a moment of peace. A few people came and went that she greeted with that 1000-watt fake smile of hers, but she was mostly left unbothered. [Y/N] caught sight of a clock and realized Coriolanus had been gone for several minutes longer than he should have. She excused herself from talking to some old woman that claimed to be some distant great aunt or something of Coriolanus’ and set off to locate him and her posca.
Cutting through the crowd, [Y/N] spotted tall Coriolanus over most everyone’s heads, holding two glasses of posca, and speaking to her parents.
Fuck.
Her parents.
[Y/N] rushed sharply towards Coriolanus. She stopped short of approaching. She wanted to listen in for a moment to what they might be saying. [Y/N] knew her parents were of the socially treacherous sort. She turned her back to them and stood, pretending she didn’t know they were there.
“…Hasn’t given you too much trouble.” She heard her mother laugh.
Coriolanus laughed uncomfortably back. “Ha, not too much, no,” He said. “She’s quite fiery, for lack of a better word, though. Tough. She’s a tough woman.”
“You’re a strong young man, Coriolanus. I’m sure you’ll find a way to put her in her place. You can’t have her compromise your image and all that, you know. She can just be so destructive.” Her father said.
[Y/N] felt her heart sink. The positive interactions she had with Coriolanus were slipping out of her mind by the second in overhearing the conversation.
“Ah, yes sir,” Coriolanus said. “We’ve got a whole lifetime for—“
[Y/N] turned around and stomped over to Coriolanus. “There you are!” She said, returning that winning smile to her lips. “I’ve been looking everywhere for you, dear,” [Y/N] the pet name coming from her mouth made her nauseous. She grasped Coriolanus’ arm firmly. “And you got me a drink? You really are a dear, aren’t you?” She smiled and turned to her parents. Coriolanus felt tense beside her; she could feel it in the muscles in his arm.
Both her mother and father embraced her lovingly. “Oh, [Y/N], you look beautiful as ever.” Her mother said.
“Thank you,” [Y/N] said flatly, not returning the compliment. “If you’ll excuse us, there was someone else I wanted Coriolanus to meet. We’ll be back around soon. Love you!” She muttered, pulling Coriolanus away from her parents.
“Give me that.” She said, as soon as they were out of earshot, taking the glass of posca from Coriolanus.
“They’re…” he started in reference to her parents.
“Dreadful. I know,” [Y/N] heart felt broken. She didn’t even have a chance with Coriolanus without their humiliating influence. She didn’t want to dive into rationalizing his overheard conversation. So she just morosely stared down at the floor.
“They’re cruel to you,” he remarked as [Y/N] drank. “They told me I should work on breaking your spirit.”
[Y/N] took a long drink from her glass. “Are you going to? Break my spirit, I mean.”
“Haven’t decided,” Coriolanus replied. “Is tonight terrible so far for you?”
“Absolutely and unendingly.”
“Shame, since it’s supposed to be for us,” Coriolanus frowned. “Here’s what we’ll do. Drink up and we’ll dance. You told me you liked to dance once. Still true?”
“Uh, yes. You remember that?” The truth was that Coriolanus forgot very little.
“Too much talking, not enough drinking.” He replied, reaching out to tip the stem of her posca glass up, forcing the drink towards her lips.
“You’re a dick.” [Y/N] snapped. Her voice echoed from the round glass at her mouth.
“Never heard that one before.” Coriolanus said sarcastically.
A total of five empty posca glasses were settled on a cocktail table between them after about forty-five minutes of chatter and drinking. Coriolanus seemed looser than before, but focused as ever. The third glass, and the last half of Coriolanus’ second, had sent [Y/N] over the edge into drunkness, however.
“Dance with me now?” [Y/N] slurred slightly.
Coriolanus held his hand out as an affirmative response. She took it and he led her towards the dance floor. “FYI, I’m going to lead. You’re falling apart.” He leaned in to whisper teasingly as they approached the shiny wooden floor.
“If you’re shit at this, I reserve the right to take over as lead.”
“You have zero faith in me,” Coriolanus said, grabbing her too firmly in a waltz hold. She placed her hand on his broad shoulder. “Don’t think, just follow. I’ve got you.” He said, staring at her. Blue, blue, blue eyes, completely unreadable. Coriolanus sloppily led her around the dance floor, keeping the spins to a minimum. Sober, he was probably a fairly decent dancer. [Y/N] was reflexively a fine dancer as well, but a bit sloppier than normal. The thing that was actually holding back her dancing abilities, were the damn red heels. Her feet ached and she didn’t think she would be able to keep up with much more than a waltz in them.
The next song began after only half the length she had expected from a waltz, [Y/N]. It was a brisk foxtrot; all reliant on footwork. As Coriolanus led her into the first sidestep, [Y/N] kicked off her heels without missing a step. She harshly kicked them aside, sliding them to the edge of the dance floor. [Y/N] found she felt tiny now in front of Coriolanus. His smirk doubled at the sight as well. “Better?”
“Much. How about you shrink six inches next time so I don’t have to grow six inches. Seems fair to me.”
Coriolanus laughed cordially. His laugh turned into a sigh when he noticed [Y/N]’s lack of reply. “Are you angry with me?” He was aware that she usually was angry with him, he was asking specifically she to the conversation with her parents.
“Yes, why?”
“Because you’re being extremely rude.” Coriolanus said sharply.
“And?”
“No reason, just making conversation.”
Coriolanus couldn’t figure out what [Y/N] was looking at over his shoulder, but he didn’t care enough to ask. “Wanna make it up to me?” [Y/N] asked. “Posca wasn’t enough.”
“I’ll consider it. The terms?” He replied, spinning her through a tempo change.
“I want to make my parents hurt. I don’t live under their roof anymore. She’s been staring at me since I took my shoes off. See? I’m embarrassing her. And you know how big you owe me.”
This gave Coriolanus pause. Really, he didn’t owe her anything worth a damn. She was as bad to him as he was to her. “Why?”
“You said you could grant me opportunity. Grant me the opportunity of making her feel a fool for making me marry you, Coriolanus. I’m drunk. This offer is only going to work right now.”
“What’s in it for me?”
“Blowjob.”
“I have an idea,” Coriolanus said immediately. [Y/N] grinned. His job was having wicked, awful ideas, so it was nice when he delivered. “Do you trust me?”
“No.”
“By the end of tonight, you will,” Coriolanus grimaced. He rotated the pair of them on the dance floor so [Y/N]’s back was to them and he could keep eyes on her parents. “I’m going to touch you.” He whispered in her ear when the music shifted to something more akin to a rumba.
“What?”
In seconds, [Y/N] felt Coriolanus’ nose slide from where he had whispered in her ear and down her neck to above her pulse point. He planted one kiss to her throat. Coriolanus waited before kissing her again to make sure she didn’t throw him halfway across the event hall in rage first. After that, he felt he had the go-ahead to work more forcefully. Coriolanus sensually kissed hard up and down the right side of [Y/N]’s throat, while both of them tried to keep their fuzzy brains clear enough to keep dancing. He kept kissing and sucking at her neck until she let out a nice loud sound of pleasure. That was when he pulled away. He was happy to see a nice purple bruise starting to form on her exposed neck.
“How was that?” He asked dryly, trying to hold off a pending erection.
“You’re out of your mind. Do it again.”
“I’m pretty sure my boss is here, [Y/N]. That was… great, but unless there’s—“
“We got lectured our entire growing up at the Academy to make sure we were to be winners by any means necessary, Coriolanus. Push the envelope. It’s our night. We can do whatever we want. Let’s make it count, at least. With all these cameras here? You keep this up, and your face will be on every periodical in Panem.”
“Yeah, for terrible reasons!”
“Any press is good press and you know that. ‘TROUBLE IN THE ARENA?: GAMEMAKER’S FIANCÉE BREAKS DOWN AT PARTY,’” she said, showing a fictional headline example. “Below it, a nice picture of me crying and you dusting me off like a dutiful husband. Have your way with me and eventually I’ll snap and cry and accuse you of something you didn’t do, then you can ‘put me in place,’ so to speak. Control the fucking news cycle til everyone knows your name.”
[Y/N] could tell that Coriolanus had in fact agreed to gamble with his image when his hand slid down her back and grabbed her ass. His mouth ducked back into her neck as well, biting harder than [Y/N] expected. [Y/N] let out a painfully loud moan without meaning to.
“You want a show, let’s give ‘em a show.” He muttered against her skin. Coriolanus pulled his hips flush against his. The fabric of her ballgown being the only meaningful barrier between them. After a few moments, they had given up any chance at a rumba. Coriolanus stood over her, kissing her bruisingly hard anywhere we could reach.
“Coriolanus,” [Y/N] muttered. She gripped his shoulder tightly to steady herself. “Fuck, that feels good.”
Coriolanus took his hand out of the one that was clutching hers and slid it up to grab her face harshly between thumb and forefinger. “Can you shut up for a minute? I’ve let you run your mouth all day. It’s getting annoying,” He said, the mask of kindness slipping from his eyes. “You have had a complaint about everything. I put up with it, too. It’s getting… really,” Coriolanus’ hand gripped her ass harder over the ballgown. “Fucking annoying. You’re already making me do all this because I’m a dick. Stop being a brat. Please keep your mouth closed until I want it open, okay?”
He was holding her face so tightly that she couldn’t even nod. That’s when she saw the cameras start flashing, as Coriolanus gripped her by the face like a spoiled child and rubbed her ass in front of everyone she knew. “Yes.” She tried to mumble, but it came out squished.
“Great, then, we’re clear. Don’t think, just follow.” Coriolanus leaned forward and kissed her blazingly. That’s around the time [Y/N] could hear her mother in hysterics stomping to the bathroom. She sighed with relief, but also burned with humiliation. It felt like Coriolanus was practically trying to fuck her with her clothes on.
[Y/N] couldn’t believe this. This wasn’t brutally argumentative Snow, this wasn’t pseudo-gentle Snow. Who was this? What the fuck was he doing? Why did it feel good? [Y/N] felt a shiver tingle down her spine as he kissed her. Aggressively, she kissed back in an attempt at delivering that ruthlessness Coriolanus said he prized. He squashed that quickly and leaned her back, almost knocking her off her feet. She pulled back breathlessly.
[Y/N]’s eyes were darting around the room, watching everyone watching her. She was the show tonight. For the first time in her life, someone had made her the real center of attention that she always craved to me. Coriolanus granted her opportunity. It fucking worked. Her gaze shot back to Coriolanus, looking down at her possessively. He was mouthing something to her, but her intoxicated brain couldn’t signal her eyes to focus enough to piece together his words.
“What?” She whispered, leaning away from him.
More clearly this time, Coriolanus mouthed. “Hit. Me,” He leaned in close to her ear and whispered. “I told you. I’m leading; I have an idea.”
[Y/N] started to shake her head ‘no’ at her insane exhibitionist fiancé, but she remembered she was the one that had asked for a show. Without asking why, [Y/N] feigned disgust and stepped away from Coriolanus. She raised her hand and sharply slapped him across the face. This elicited gasps of shock from their guests. She could see a red mark beginning to develop on Coriolanus’ fair cheek.
Violence like this is what people in the Districts did. This was not what well-bred, promising youth from the Capitol did. The chatter in the room grew in the form of prying hushed whispers. The band stopped playing. This was not how beautiful young girls behaved at their engagement parties. [Y/N]’s stomach dropped. She looked angrily between her vile hand and the mark on Coriolanus’ face. Both of their expressions showed that she had hit him harder than they expected.
“How many men, [Y/N]?” Coriolanus asked, forcefully.
“What?” [Y/N] asked, shocked. She had no idea what he was talking about.
“How many men have had you behind my back?”
It was a fucking act. No truth to it at all. He wanted a rise out of her and so did the cameras. This was exactly what she had asked him, she didn’t realize how seriously he would take her.
[Y/N] sighed. She understood her role and she was going to play it perfectly. “One. Only one, I swear. None since you caught us in bed.” Lie. “Stop. We’re…” she glanced around, playing ashamed of the cameras. “We’re in public, Coriolanus. Please. Don’t cause a scene.” She said, parroting what he had said to her that morning.
That line did the trick. She saw the vein in his forehead pop out. “Don’t cause a scene? You struck me!” Coriolanus roared. “That’s unfair, and you know it.” The ghost of a smirk played on his lips while he clutched his face.
“You wouldn’t hear reason! The accusations you made of me, Coriolanus. You—You—“
Coriolanus surged forward and grabbed her by her forearms. “Accusations that are warranted. I don’t know how you expect me to trust you after something like that! Do you think I’m made of stone?”
“Yes!” [Y/N] yelled truthfully.
Coriolanus paused. “[Y/N], I hurt just as much as you do. You’re drunk. You’re not thinking straight,” He placated. “I just can’t stand to see how these men look at you like that, knowing you would trade me for them in a heartbeat.” He brought the tempo of their fight down with his false melancholy.
“Coriolanus…” [Y/N] said tentatively. “I wouldn’t… Not now. We’ve put that behind us. I-I’m yours and—“
“I made this whole night about you. I…” Coriolanus swallowed dramatically. “I love you.” Lie? “I love you, I spend all night trying to show you that I don’t want anyone but you. I try to make you feel special so you won’t stray again. And you, you hit me… I can’t do anything right enough for you.” He turned his face away, feigning hiding tears and released her arms.
Without the stabilizing touch of Coriolanus, [Y/N] was starting to feel uncertain on her feet from the alcohol. Far from gracefully, [Y/N] sank to the floor, her skirt fanning out around her as it had when she was searching for her shoe earlier that evening. From the drink, the tension and the state of her shambling life, [Y/N] let out an unexpected sob. Coriolanus turned his head in genuine surprise at the sound. “I’m sorry, my love,” she started through sniffles. “I’m sorry. Forgive me,” She looked up at him as her mascara began to drip down her cheeks. “Please forgive me. You have every right to leave, but please, Coriolanus, you’re all I have left.” That part was true. It was all gone. Her childhood home, the security of her parents, university and the Academy were behind her, taxing relationships with friends she had outgrown. Coriolanus was all that remained. [Y/N] cried harder. “I made a mistake.” She howled.
Coriolanus was impressed, to say the least. Cautiously, he knelt down in front of [Y/N]. He would remember this image of her for his whole life. With her mascara running, her stockings ripped, her shoes long missing, the top of her extravagant dress sliding too low for public consumption, she was divine, truthfully. That was her. That was how he would always want to remember her. “Darling?” He said quietly.
Now, the bastard was left open to play the dutiful savior, just as she had teased earlier.
[Y/N] started to twist the engagement ring off of her finger, theatrically. Coriolanus took her obvious bait and took her hand to stop her. He slid the ruby ring back down her finger calmly. “Darling, I’m not going anywhere. You’re drunk. You just need a little help, right? You mustn’t drink so much. It breaks my heart to see you like this,” Coriolanus squeezed her hand and brought it to his lips, kissing it softly. “You need me. I’m not going anywhere. What kind of husband would that make me if I did?”
She nodded. “Thank you,” she wiped her eyes with the back of her hand. “You’re a good man, Coriolanus,” LIE. “You’re too good to me.”
“Come on,” Coriolanus rose from the floor and extended a hand to her. “Let’s get you home, huh?” He said condescendingly.
[Y/N] took his hand carefully. He pulled her up and she stumbled to her feet. Coriolanus wrapped an arm tightly around her waist and pulled her closer. He glanced around in surprise to address the crowd that had gathered in front of them. “I’m sorry for everything you just had to see. Please be kind to my fiancée; she’s had a lot to drink. Posca, right?” Coriolanus darkly attempted a somber joke. “I should’ve kept a closer eye on her. We’ll be getting home. Thank you all for coming out to celebrate us tonight.” Sorry to call it a night with so much night left.” He said softly.
Coriolanus led her to the edge of the dance floor where he had spotted her shoes. He grabbed the red shoes from the floor and carried them dangling from his free hand as he walked her to the door and down the stairs to the sidewalk. [Y/N] had a vague memory of Coriolanus summoning their driver via the valet at the door. She was too busy noticing how her stockings caught on the sidewalk with every step.
“Darling?” Coriolanus whispered, leaning down to whisper to her. “You were brilliant.”
“Really?” She sniffled hesitantly. “Because I’m fairly certain that everyone in that room hates me.”
“Any press is good press.” Coriolanus reminded her with a gentle kiss to the forehead.
“For you, maybe. I made a mistake asking for that…” she kicked at a stray stone on the sidewalk. “I am probably the biggest villain in Panem right now.” [Y/N] said, shaking her head a little with a sad laugh.
“Not a villain,” Coriolanus scoffed. “A star.”
PART II HERE
TAGLIST:
@badwicht @stelleduarte @cinnamongirl127 @prettyppetty @soulessien @bejeweledreverie @jjstyles @ndycrls @arminsarlerts @catlover420sstuff @chmpgneprblem @co1dmountains @watermelonharry @ohantonia @miscellaneousmoonchild @lille999 @pumkinnxsmut @nananarwhal @taykorsyogurt
sorry - some of them would not process and actually tag! i tried!!!!! non functional tags indicated with strikethru
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nouvellevqgue · 1 month
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SWEET MEMORIES ; oscar piastri x webber!reader
summary: it's been a year since they got married and ever since then, they can't help but to go back in times and recall the sweet memories of their wedding day here and there.
note: aight, this is the last on my queue, for the rest of my works check @duhyork for more. and sorry for the wrongs and awkwardness here, i've never written a wedding scene before :)
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ONE YEAR AGO...
ynwebber and oscarpiastri
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liked by landonorris and 986,772 others
ynwebber 4.4.24 🤍
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landonorris wowowow congratulations to the both of you future parents! can't wait to see how your kids going to look like
mclaren Congratulations to you Lovebirds! 🥹❤️
username WHAT WHY AM I KNOWING THIS JUST NOW
username I can clearly see that is Oscar
username boy can't even remove the awkward stance off for a moment 😭😭
alpinef1team Congratulations for the wedding, Oscar. We sincerely hope that you both would have a good love life together!
username This is the first time that alpine admin say something longer than their usual sarcastic reply
alex_albon Me, Lily, and the rest of Williams team wish the both of you a very happy wedding day from LA. So sorry that we cannot attend the both of your wedding, but we certainly wish the best for you both. 🫶🤍🤍
username I js woke up and then I saw this... It honestly feels like a fever dream
redbullracing We wish you the happiest wedding to the couple!
scuderiaferrari We too at Scuderia Ferrari, represents all the drivers and crew here wish the both of the happy couple a best wedding.
username aren't they a bit too young to get married?
lewishamilton Happy wedding day to this couple! I wish you a great future and a wealthy life.
aussiegrit It is still hard to believe that you were married with my daughter now. But either way, I really wish you both to have a great life and for the rest is indescribable...
yourusername Awwwwww... Thanks dad!🥹🥹🥹
username Bro got lucky and got two webbers at once
username he already marries her dad first
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“...i wish you long life, happiness, prosperity, and may the vows you made to each other today sustain you forever.” the priest said, breaking the silence for a moment before continuing his speech, “you may kiss the bride.” he ends. and by the time they kissed, the crowd's cheer is erupting from everywhere. clearly happy to see them finally holding the new title of husband and wife.
an hour has passed right from the reception, and now they're gathering at the garden, celebrating their special day. and definitely, it's led by lando, who has been his friends for all this time and has witnessed ‘the ins and outs of their romance.’
the loud sound of a fork meeting a champagne glass as he gets up caught the attention of everyone there, including the married couple. waiting for whatever going to happen next.
“okay um, first of all i want to say my congratulations to this couple for the a hundredth times today,” he said, followed by some of the audience giggle at his speech. “but i just wanted to say that, "even though I haven't known you as long as hogan has known you, but i at least know the half part of your love story along with what i'm now saying is that your wife is right in mclaren's garage." he said while smiling, and he could also see oscar whose cheeks were starting to turn red and his smile was widening every time he spoke.
"i actually never thought that they would get married in the end, but is that more surprising than him winning the heart of mark webber's daughter? the only daughter of his own manager after having his first win.” he said with a surprised tone, making mark who is sitting right in front of him covering his face as the audience's laughter is started to come from here and there as soon as lando said that.
“but really, i've witnessed their love story since... probably since he's still a newcomer, a new driver for mclaren, i've seen it.” a burst of awws coming after that, “they are completing each other from each other's flaws, and for the rest of it were just history. and also... does their cuteness count?” he looked at mark and at the time he saw him nod, he finally said: “yes. cuteness from them does count.” he ends. “everybody, cheers to the happy couple. i pray that the both of you will always be happy.” he raised his glass before finally sipping its contents, earning a bunch of applause from the crowd.
the couple can't help but to kiss once again after his speech, mark and nicole can't help but to smiled at each other, and lando looking so proud of himself afterwards.
the surprise of course didn't just end there, but the night are still young, and there's still a lot to uncover right there.
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ONE YEAR LATER...
ynwebber
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liked by oscarpiastri and 452,766 others
ynwebber I still recall it very clearly that when the first I saw your dad, he immediately got into tears, and oh boy so do I 🥲 I loved every second of our very special day, and I can't get enough of your love for ever after.
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oscarpiastri ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️
lilymhe AAAAAAHHH YOU TWO ARE THE CUTEEESSSTT!! 🤗🤗
carmenmmundt I miss how emotional it is there, you both really suited each other.
username I CRIED TOO THAT TIME
username omg i wanna jump out of a cliff
username I don't believe it's been a year since
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oscarpiastri
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liked by ynwebber and 739,902 others
oscarpiastri Inarguably the best and my favourite day of my life. You made it completely for me, Y/n. You are the best person I can asked for to be with me for the rest of my life.
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note 2: happy birthday oscar piastri, future wdc.
taglist: @queenofmanydreams @muglermami @4limq @avengers-assemble123456 @cabbyhabs @meowtastick @4mula-1 @miarabanana @amel1ee @dinosushilun1 @auggieblogs @namgification @charli123456789 @cherry-piee
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81folklore · 2 months
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heaven - OP81 - part 5
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pairings: oscar piastri x private!reader (fc: gracie abrams)
summary: australian adventures of yn and oscar
type: social media au (smau)
authors note: IM BACK WRITING MY FAVORITE ANGELS!!! ive been feeling slightly more motivated so i thought id just continue a story instead of creating a new one (at least whilst im in this slump) i do hope you enjoy!!
heaven masterlist masterlist
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yourusername
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liked by oscarpiastri, logansargeant and 7,191 others
oh australia how ive missed you and your gifts 💫
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user3 whats the best gift australia has given you??
yourusername oscar!!! liked by oscarpiastri
user3 SHUT THE FUCK UP WHATTTT?!?!??
user62 i feel SICK THEYRE SO??
oscarpiastri oh my goddd
oscarpiastri 😍😍
user4 you cannot separate oscar from that emoji
yourusername not even i can😕😕
oscarpiastri you can pry it from my cold dead hands
user81 that dog is so stinking cute
user22 yess but that dress is GORGEOUS
user5 right shes sooooooo pretty liked by oscarpiastri
user88 australia is the one whos lucky!! liked by oscarpiastri
user67 like they are being blessed with the yn ln
yourfriend3 you are oh so lovely liked by oscarpiastri
yourfriend3 i take it back stop your boyf from liking my comments abt you
yourusername he loves me🥰🥰
oscarpiastri i do!! its true!!
oscarpiastri 📍location home
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liked by yourusername, lilymhe and 52,281 others
my favorite lady in my favorite place
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user18 SHE IS HIS FAVORITE LADY OH MU GOD😭😭
user17 AND HIS FAVORITE PLACE IS HOME😭
user24 oh my god she is gorgeous liked by oscarpiastri
user84 i will never ever get tired of them
user28 i hope theyre in love forever and ever liked by oscarpiastri
user55 oscar liking this comment☹️☹️
yourusername my babyyyy
yourusername oh how ill always love you liked by oscarpiastri
oscarpiastri 🩷🩷
twitter
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yourusername
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liked by oscarpiastri, landonorris and 8,729 others
the day you entered my world you changed my entire view on life and myself, you help me find love and happiness in things i never expected and showed me how to appreciate the smallest things in life.
sometimes i wonder if im being selfish, how can i be worthy of all the love and time youve given to me? surely there is someone more deserving, someone who needs everything youve showed me more? i think about what i must have done in a past life to be gifted with you and then i wonder if we are destined.
maybe i dont deserve you in this life, maybe i dont deserve you in a thousand other lifes. but i believe we are meant to be which means for every universe we dont find eachother, we find eachother in a hundred more
im so glad we found each other, i dont know if i deserve you but i promise i will cherish and appreciate the way i have done for 6 years and the way i will continue to love you for as long as this universe allows and then i will love you even longer in another
six years used to feel like forever but now ill never have enough time, happy anniversary lovely
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oscarpiastri you continue to help my heart keep beating
oscarpiastri i didnt think love was real until i found you
oscarpiastri we will find eachother in every universe i promise
oscarpiastri you are the prettiest and most lovely person i have ever met and you deserve everything and more
yourusername my good looking boyyyy🩵🩵
user29 i have no words i cant comprehend what im reading
user10 i feel so violently ill they are so sweet
user62 my parents everyone!!!
user53 is that an engagement ring?!
user33 wait pause
user5 theres no way right??
oscarpiastri
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liked by yourusername, arthur_leclerc and 62,379 others
you’ve impacted my life in more ways than you will ever know and im so thankful that i get to love you for all eternity, you have such a beautiful soul and i can’t believe i get to hold it
happy six years and to a lifetime more
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yourusername you are so so incredible
yourusername i dont know how many other ways i can say it but i love you
oscarpiastri i love you too
user66 they are sooooo
user7 oh my gooooood i am a puddle of tears
user56 you just dont get them like i do
user32 anyone else sad we didnt get a long caption like yns was beautiful
yourusername oscar said more than enough in his letter☺️
user43 OH MY GOD HE WROTE HER A LETTER😭😭😭😭
user3 six years.. six damn years and they are still so in love
user48 guys are they engaged or not😭
yourusername not!! we are still young and exploring ourselves and the world and we are still grow into better people. we didnt want to rush when we still have so many things to do but we will when we know we are ready🩷 liked by oscarpiastri
user65 i didnt know it was possible to love two random strangers so much☹️☹️
yourusername added to their story
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seen by oscarpiastri, landonorris and 9,372 others
text on story reads: 🩷🩷🩷
oscarpiastri added to their story
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seen by yourusername, aussiegrit and 105,482 others
text on story reads: sunshine ☀️☀️
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818 notes · View notes
Text
why them??
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Whenever we visit a new location, there's an in-game reason given for why it's these specific four characters chosen to go! I was eager to see why Vil had Jamil, Azul, and Ace come along with him to an acclaimed film festival... and I was not disappointed 😂
***Tapis Rouge in the Shaftlands spoilers under the cut!!***
So as it turns out, Vil has been invited to the International Film Festival in Fairest City (a significant location for the entertainment and beauty industries). He’s going to promote a movie he’s in that’s releasing next year.
The original plan was for the Film Research Club to accompany Vil and take the chance to learn more about movie productions. However, the club is in the middle of filming for their own project and a change in weather has led to their shoot next week being cancelled. The filming they would have done next week now has to be done this week, so Vil’s club members cannot go on the trip. (Vil himself still has to attend because he is contractually obligated to.)
The other NRC students start to argue over who Vil should take in his club members’ places. The people vying for spots include:
Cater (because the Fairest City is so trendy and always popular on Magicam)
Azul (many famous brands are sold in Fairest City; he has a financial interest in this research)
Lilia (has visited the city before, but never the film festival)
Jade (the city is close to old mines, which he is interested in)
Ace (he loves the idea of going to a fashionable city and “tasting” the celebrity world)
Rook (a lover of movies and dramas; he is curious about the movie studios)
Floyd, Epel, Deuce, Grim (lol it sounds fun to them; Epel also says he has not traveled a lot so he wants to go this time)
Ruggie (FANCY FOOD)
Jamil (wants to take advantage of Vil’s presence to see behind-the-scenes things they don’t normally show; he usually prepares snacks for when Kalim watches movies at one of three at-home theaters but hasn’t had the time to really appreciate the films for what they are himself)
DKJLBHASILYFAYFVQEFIFQEPI; I love the added detail of Jamil telling the others they're inconveniencing their senpai but then Azul cuts in and implies the behavior is a manipulation tactic to show off to Vil how reliable Jamil can be (thus increasing his odds of going while he still maintains his "humility")... Those two just cannot stop getting at each other's throats, I swear 💀 (In part 2, they continue the pettiness when Ace comments that they’re both quick to tease him together, so do they actually get along? Jamil says no but Azul says yes… and the two of them are STILL bullying each other about their personalities once they get their new outfits. Truly not a dull moment with them…)
BUT THIS IS THE REAL STINGER
So since Vil can only pick 5 people to take with him, he says they'll have to prove that they somehow excel over the others. It's then that Azul cooks up a scheme on the spot and recruits Jamil and Ace for it: a lottery! Azul proposes it, has Jamil pitch in, and has Ace prepare the drawings. THIS WORKS ON MULTIPLE LEVELS BECAUSE:
Azul can present the idea as "random" and "fair". This makes him appear like a kind problem solver not wanting to give anyone, not even himself, a leg up.
It would come off as shady if he gets one of the twins (known to be his henchman) to agree with him... so who does Azul get to back him up? Jamil, someone from another dorm, and someone who was passive aggressive with him earlier. This creates a false illusion that others beyond Azul and his dorm believe in the "fairness" of the lottery.
Ace has deft fingers; he a cut a deck of cards--and he can easily rig a lottery since he's in cahoots with Azul, the guy who suggested it to begin with.
This creates a situation where Azul, Jamil, AND Ace get to go to the event. These bitches are mutually benefitting from being collectively sneaky (According to Ace, Yuu and Grim pulled the remaining two slots by coincidence, so they just happen to be "lucky") 🤡 AND THE FUNNIEST PART OF IT ALL IS THAT VIL SUSPECTED THEY WOULD PULL THIS SHIT, BUT HE LET IT HAPPEN ANYWAY SINCE IT'S TECHNICALLY STILL THEM DEMONSTRATING THEIR TALENTS TO HIM...
Truly, bravo... That deserved a standing ovation, gentlemen 👏
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astraystayyh · 9 months
Text
Invisible Thread- two.
This is the second and final part of Invisible Thread. Here is the link to part one.
pairing: minho x reader. pre-established relationship. reader has she/her pronouns.
genre: fluff and domesticity. angst. healing. characters trying to become better. humans being humans.
cw: parent death. grief. talk about death. allusion to sex but no smut. suggestive at one tiny part but it's for the plot.
summary: In which Minho rewrites your entire relationship with love.
word count: 17k
a.n: this is, i hope, a gentle reminder to always be kind to yourself, and to the people surrounding you. this one is pretty personal because i see myself a lot in yn, but it was also challenging since i wrote about things i have never experienced either. so i hope you'll enjoy reading, and that the second part will live up to your expectations. it took me a long time to write this but it's okay!! English isn't my first language and this was also a reminder to be patient with myself. thank you. i love you all. truly. feedback is highly appreciated, as always <3
(here is a Spotify playlist i made for this second part, you can listen to it while reading if you'd like :))
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Love. How lucky yet cursed we are to ever experience it.
The fear attached to this singular emotion seems ridiculous. Because we aren't afraid of experiencing anger, sadness, or nervousness. They might overwhelm us, but we accept them, we recognize them as they are and then we cope with them. Whichever way we know best.
But when love comes knocking on our door, we stray away from it, we try to shape it into something else- much gentler on the soul, less devastating if it were ever not reciprocated.
So, we name it a crush, attachment, infatuation; anything but the cursed four-lettered word- anything but love. As though merely acknowledging it would morph it into a sharp-edged sword, eternally wedged within us, making our blood dribble away slowly and with it, our souls awash.
You are no exception. Love has terrified you for the better part of your life. There was a time when the word did slip easily from your mouth, back when you were a child and your view of the world was still naive, undisturbed by what you now know. You loved ice cream, you loved candy, you loved your teacher who braided your hair.
But then the once light word grew heavy on your tongue. Because love is what made you crave your mother's warmth, only to find coldness awaiting you. It is love that made you seek shelter elsewhere, in the fleeting opinions of the people surrounding you, hanging your entire worth on the words they uttered about you- ones they forgot within hours but you carried for years.
But this view of yours got dismantled, slowly, day by day. You’ve come to learn that it isn't love that had hurt you, it was rather the lack of it.
It cannot be love that wound when it is the emotion swimming in your eyes, whenever they rest on Minho. You didn't dare say it to him, to name the feeling out loud. You were petrified that if it was ever out in the open, then the love would materialize into something tangible, and the universe would snatch it away, as it has done before with everything you've ever wanted.
But although you didn't say it, you felt it, deep within each one of your atoms. It spilled from you like infinite ink, rewriting your entire relationship with love, dismissing every wrong notion you've once established about it.
Love cannot hurt because you love Minho, and you'd hurt yourself before ever hurting him.
But maybe none of you would have to hurt. Maybe for once, you'd both be okay. That's what you'd like to believe as Minho's shoulders brush against yours. You are sitting at your usual table at Limbo, a gray cat sprawled on top of your laps. Finals ended three weeks ago. Summer break is here, the one time you've been dreading since you came to college. Because everyone is going back to their homes, but you don't have one to head back to.
"What will you do this summer?" Minho suddenly asks, putting down his iced americano. You scratch the cat's ears beside you gently- Lilia you've decided to name her. "I don't really have plans."
"Would you like to go camping?"
"With you?"
"I mean, unless you have another secret boyfriend, then yes, with me."
"Shut up," you giggle, swatting his arm playfully. "I'd really like that," you smile softly at him, to which he nods. "Oh, and we still need to celebrate your win this term."
"Mm. Let's just call it a date this time," he grins, taking a spoonful of the salted caramel cheesecake and bringing it to your mouth. "I need to go visit my family for a few days, and then we can go," he adds.
Sudden guilt floods your being. He had a family he could go to. It was selfish for you to want him to stay, to strip him from this privilege you weren't granted with.
"I don't want you to cut your time short with them for me," you mumble, eyes fixated on Lilia soundly dozing off on his lap. It still astonished you how all animals seemed at ease in Minho's presence. As if they could sense his gentle soul, carefully hidden behind his sarcastic retorts, and cheeky smiles- one you were lucky enough to have been touched with.
"I'm not. I just really wanna go camping," he says nonchalantly, but his hand raises to squeeze your shoulder lightly.
"You should go with them."
"I have a two-person tent in mind, it won't fit the three of us. And I want to come back to you."
His words painted a sweet picture- of him returning home after a long journey, and you were that haven he sought to rest. The idea that he'd discover such solace in you when you struggled to find it within yourself, seemed unfathomable to you.
So, you bite your lower lip slightly, before squeezing his knee in gratitude. "Okay. I'll be waiting."
✹✹✹
Blue and orange flames surge higher under the wind. You watch, mesmerized as their light dances upon Minho's skin, painting him with glistening, golden hues. Every feature of his face is chiseled to perfection, as if a sculptor spent hours perfecting his face, down to the tiniest detail. He looked in his element here, setting up your tent and grilling the meat and now looking up at the sky, a chilled lemonade in his hand. You should go camping more often.
Minho places his empty can of cola on the ground, before tapping his lap. "Come here," he smiles and you oblige, rising from your chair and settling on his thighs. You tuck your knees to your chest, curling yourself entirely in his hold. His arms encircle your body, making sure you don't slip down. You close your eyes, as Minho gazes up at the night sky before you. You are comfortable and safe. It is that safety that you've craved for so long. To be held and not fear the threat of a knife behind your back.
It still surprised you, how you came to crave Minho's presence. But it went beyond just being near him; you felt as if you needed to touch him, as if verifying his existence, ensuring he wasn't an ephemeral specter slipping through your fingers like grains of sand in an hourglass. Yet, even more surprising was Minho's own yearning for you. His hands were always drawn to you, subtly grazing your face, resting on your palm, skimming your shoulders. Each tentative touch filled an echoing void within you, slowly diminishing it until all that remained were faint whispers of it.
Minho has cared for you, long before he understood you. He saw snippets and fragments of you, and he cared for the patched-up version he made up in his mind. And when you unlocked your heart for him, he only cherished it even more, silently molding his behavior so he wouldn't cross any of your boundaries.
He was hesitant at first, in holding your hands and kissing your lips. He still asks for permission, in that gentle voice of his, to touch you, in case you’re uncomfortable. Which you aren’t, because his hands on you are infused with care, fingertips dripping with unguarded attention and softness, for you.
You sigh contently, nuzzling your face in the crook of his neck as his arms tighten around you. Comfortable and safe.
"What's your favorite word?" he suddenly inquires and you giggle slightly. He often asks you these random questions, as though he wished to understand you in the most ordinary of ways and to care for you in each.
"I think it's the word soft. Whoever thought of the word really nailed it. Nothing else could have depicted softness like this one."
"The word does sound really pillowy, and gentle."
"See, I really love gentle too! Why is the word gentle so gentle? Does that make sense?" Laughter tings your question as he grins, his nose brushing lightly against yours.
"It does. They both remind me of you, actually."
"Really?"
"Mm. You're still so soft and gentle, despite it all... If they ever tell me there is one kind person left on this earth, I'd come looking for you."
Sudden tears flood your eyes as a shaky exhale leaves your lips. It felt rewarding, in a sense, to have someone acknowledge the strength it takes to be kind, in a world that had dealt you nothing but harshness.
"Can I tell you something?"
"Anything."
"Sometimes..." you pause, racking your brain for the best way to word this. "Sometimes it scares me how much I've come to care for you. How you make opening up not sound as daunting as before."
You grab his hand into yours, fidgeting with his fingers. The familiarity of their touch helps you calm down. "I'm not saying you'll hurt me. I just... I can't help this tiny voice in the back of my mind telling me to be cautious. It's gotten quieter, but it's still there."
"That's just your past selves trying to protect you," he smiles softly at you, brushing a strand of your hair behind your ear. "When I told you I'll be here, for as long as you'll have me, I meant it. Doubts and all."
"But I don't want to be closed off anymore," you admit. "It's very lonely that way."
"I know it is, love. But it's what you knew best back then, hm? You shouldn't feel bad about it, you did what you had to do to protect yourself. I'm just here to protect you too now."
"You think I can no longer do it myself?" you tease, your hand threading through his silky hair.
"Of course, you still can. But two shields are better than one. Also, this is exactly why I work out."
"Will your muscles protect me from my mind?" you giggle and he nods proudly. "Have you seen these?" he flexes his arms, before snorting, a bit shyly, eyes squinting closed. He's saying nonsense to make you laugh, and it's warming your heart beyond belief.
"I think these should just stay wrapped around me," you grin, guiding his arms around your back once again.
"No complaints," he smiles, as you settle against his chest. He places a soft kiss on the top of your head and you close your eyes. Safe and comfortable- Minho.
✹✹✹
Summer has been kind to you. Or maybe it was you who has been kind to summer, your laughter filling its air until it could do nothing but mirror your happiness.
Summer tasted like love with Minho by your side. In clementines he peeled for you, feeding you each slice with a soft smile on his face. In spontaneous bike rides at six am, to chase sunrises you've never witnessed before him. In numerous books he bought so you’d read them to him, his head on your lap, a tranquil expression coloring his face. And although the months have all been sweet, there are two days that you remember particularly.
You don't mark up the time with dates, but rather with the new feelings Minho bestowed upon you- the first time you wanted someone to stay, and they did.  
"Baby?" Minho’s hand brushes against your shoulder and you startle, turning around to look at him. "Are you okay? You zoned out."
"I’m fine," the rehearsed lie slips from your mouth, long before you could think about it. A ping of guilt swarms your heart, you’ve promised yourself that you’d tell Minho about your true feelings, even if he couldn’t help you with them.
"Are you sure? You haven’t said a word since I came over..." He quickly glances at his watch, "Three hours ago."
"I’m sorry," you mumble, your thoughts swarming your head once again. You felt horrible for wasting his time. He had better things to do than sit with you in silence.
"I’m not asking you to apologize," he says cautiously as if he’s aware he’s threading along a dangerous line. You stay silent and he shuts his eyes closed, hand reaching up to pinch the bridge of his nose. "I just want you to be honest."
"I am."
"Are you, really?"
"What do you want from me?" you ask a bit breathlessly. You don’t know what you are saying, but you can sense your walls building up, higher than you could ever reach them.
"You’re clearly not fine and I-"
"I am trying, okay? I’m trying, please." You plead; you’re unsure for what exactly. For him to stop prodding, because you don’t have answers for him, not yet. Not when you haven’t understood it yourself.
"I'm going for a walk," he says, abruptly standing. You stay frozen in your place, as he quickly slips his shoes on, before leaving your apartment. You’re trying and it isn’t enough for him.
You don’t move from your place as time slowly trickles by. The seconds morph into minutes and suddenly it’s been an hour and a half since Minho left. There is a tantalizing fear making you stay put as if you ever dare to move a limb, then the stillness would be shattered and Minho wouldn’t come back.
It’s hard to reroute your brain entirely- old habits creep up on you swiftly, and suddenly you’re pulled back into the old you, woven into the web of horrible thoughts stitching all around you. Change feels sweet, with Minho, it feels like hope and the taste of a new beginning, but it is scary and different. And the familiarity of what you were before him calls your name from time to time. It was horrible and lonely, but there were no surprises in it. You knew what to expect at all times.
You could’ve told him that you weren’t feeling good, that you didn’t feel like talking and Minho would’ve understood. Because this isn’t the first time this happened, and it happens to him too sometimes. So, he understands, more than anyone you know. But instead, you lied and denied and Minho left. And you can’t blame it on anyone but yourself.
You grab your phone, its sudden light burning your eyes. You blink repeatedly, as you dial Minho’s number. It rings and it rings, then it goes to voicemail. You try again, through blurry vision. It doesn’t even ring this time- straight to voicemail.
Minho’s left. He’s had enough. You can’t blame him.
Three swift knocks resound loudly on your door. You don’t remember reaching the doorknob, your body’s moving on autopilot, but you pull it open. Minho. Your hold on the handle tightens until your knuckles turn white. You can’t look at him, you don’t want to see his face as he leaves you.
"Why are you crying?" he whispers, dainty fingers gently wiping away your tears.
"Don’t go. Not you too," you manage to utter, and you hear Minho suck in a deep breath, before pulling you tightly to his chest.
"What are you talking about?" he says, as he buries your head in the crook of his neck. The familiar scent of his cologne washes over you- you’ve memorized its earthy notes by heart now, easily recognizable between a thousand smells.
"You've been away for two hours and I called and you- you didn’t pick up. I thought you wouldn’t come back."
"My phone died while I was outside and I lost track of time, and- please don’t cry. I’m sorry, I’m so sorry." He leans away, cupping your cheek delicately. "Im here, you see? Let’s go on a walk, hm?"
"You were just out," you mumble and he smiles at you. "I wanna go with you."
Minho takes off his jacket, draping it over your shoulders. He leads you outside, still clad in the bunny slippers he randomly bought you a week ago. His hand is warm in yours. His hand wouldn’t be warm if he was leaving you.
You walk in silence to the park near your home, and Minho sits you down on an empty bench. Your tears are dried up by now, cheeks cold from the night breeze; and his hand is still in yours.
"Chan didn’t leave our dorm for three days." He starts, clearing his throat. "He’s overworking himself, doesn’t even eat the food I make him. And I tried to tell him to take a break today. But I couldn’t… I couldn’t convince him. He’s probably still working on his music right now," he chuckles, but there is no trace of humor in the sound. "And then I come to you and you’re not okay. And I want to help but suddenly I’m pressuring you. And you’re trying, so hard and you’re doing so well and I’m pressuring you instead of helping. And I failed at being there for you both. What good I am if I’m not there for the people I lo- care about?"
"Don’t say that, please. You are good enough. More than enough," you cup his cheek, pressing his forehead on yours. "You’re always here. Don’t ever doubt that. I’m sure Chan appreciates everything you do for him."
"And you?" he asks, tone coated in such raw vulnerability that it knocks the breath out of you. At that moment, Minho was a plain hill, devoid of hidden nooks and crannies- nowhere for him to guard his emotions from you.
"Do you remember that night, when I asked you how I can help you feel yellow?" you ask after a while, and he nods, repetitive blinks rythming his silence. "I used to think that happiness was yellow, that sudden joy that drowns out the world around you. And I wanted to always feel yellow, the highest of highs. But that could only lead to another low, another extreme. I’ve since learned that true happiness is feeling peace when you lay in bed at night…  And for your heart to beat soundly from contentment."
"I remember feeling this way only once, a long time ago. I woke up to see the sunrise, but I was a bit late to it, so I missed the orange and the pink," you chuckle slightly, as the distant memory floods you. "But I saw the blue, this really soft blue, and as I looked at it a strange sense of serenity washed over me. As if, as long as I looked at that pastel blue, I’d be alright. And now…" You smile softly, your thumb delicately grazing his cheek, Now, I can just look at you. You are my blue."
Minho’s eyes glisten with unshed tears as he looks at you, mouth slightly hung agape. You giggle quietly, before patting his head gently. "Thank you for staying," you whisper, and a sudden smile breaks out on Minho’s face. It’s so radiant- as if every star in this galaxy was ground to fine dust and then sprinkled into it. You can’t admire it for long since Minho crashes his mouth on top of yours, drawing you in for a kiss that leaves you breathless afterward.
"You know I had a really nice dream yesterday," he finally whispers against your lips, a newfound lightness in his voice. "I think this is the first time where my reality is much sweeter."
✹✹✹
The first time you felt loved, truly.
It’s a couple of days into August when Chan tells you that he has signed up with a producing agency- it’s a huge step for him, one he’s been rambling about each time you met him for the past few months. So now you’re over at his and Minho’s dorm, attempting to bake a congratulatory cake for Chan. It was Minho’s idea, one he mumbled into your ear nonchalantly, as if he didn’t wake up really early to scout all the ingredients you might need.
"Why is baking so much harder than cooking?" Minho whines, burying his head dramatically in the crook of your neck. You giggle, patting his back in faux sympathy.
"So, you're admitting you're not good at everything?" you tease and he straightens up instantly, brows furrowed as he looks at you.
"I didn't say I'm not good at it. I said it's harder than cooking," he drawls out and you hum in reply, a teasing "sure, sure" escaping your mouth.
"Do you know how to crack an egg with one hand? That's the cue that you're a great baker."
"Why would I when I have two hands?" you chuckle and he smiles cheekily, raising his eyebrows at you. "Well, I can do it."
"Fine," you huff, grabbing an egg onto your hand. "Teach me?" you smile sweetly and he grins satisfied, "Of course."
"Here, you just need to crack the egg gently into the side of the bowl. And then lodge your finger inside, slowly pulling the shell apart. Like this," he demonstrates and you nod in understanding.
"Your turn," he smiles and you follow his instructions, tongue poking against your cheek in utmost concentration.  
"Min look! I did it" You grin widely, turning around to show him the egg now dropped into the bowl.
"You did! I’m proud of you," he smiles, placing a tender kiss on your temple. You pause, the egg’s shell still tightly clutched in your hand. You didn’t drop it into the bowl, and someone’s proud of you for it.
 It’s late into the night, and your stomach is aching from laughing for hours on end. Your plates of cake are on the ground, with only crumbs left on top of it. Minho invited two of Chan’s closest friends over- Felix and Han, so now you’re all playing rounds of Uno, and the poor freckled boy is losing each time.
"This isn’t fair," Felix whines, before stealing a bite of the leftover cake on the table. "This is really good by the way," he compliments and you giggle, turning around to point at Minho, only to find him already looking at you, a soft smile on his face.
"It’s all him," you say, and Chan gets his face impossibly close to your boyfriend’s, a teasing smile on his face. "You love me so much."
"I don’t. Get back," Minho pushes his face away, but you can tell he’s lying, from the fond smile threatening to spill over his mouth.
"Sure," Chan sing-songs, before turning to look at you. You wink at him and he ruffles your hair affectionately, as he always does when he wants to tease you. "Thank you for the cake, yn."
"You’re welcome," you grin as an unfamiliar warmth spread through your chest. Is this how it feels to have a family? People you care for and who care about you in return?
Minho notices the sudden bittersweet expression etched on your face, so he grabs your pinky in his hand, squeezing it slightly. You turn your palm around, before blindly intertwining your fingers with his- something you’ve gotten much better at lately.
"We’ll get going," Han announces when it’s nearly midnight, as he and Felix both get up from the floor. "Sure you don’t want to come to the party?" Chan asks, eyes trained on you and Minho.
"Yeah, we’ll stay the night."
You stand up as well, following Chan to the door and stopping him before he leaves. "You don’t mind me staying the night, right? It’s your dorm too, so I should ask."
"Of course not. You can come over whenever, even if Minho isn’t here. You don’t ever have to ask me, okay?"
"Okay, thank you, Chan," you beam at him, relief coursing through you at his words.
Soon enough, the dorm is silent, and it’s only you and Minho once again. You go to clean up but Minho pulls you by your hand, ushering you toward his bedroom. "Let's leave it to tomorrow," he says, and his voice sounds like warm candle wax dripping down on you. You can’t say no.
You find that he’s already prepared a pair of pajamas for you, spread out nicely on the bed- his grey shirt and a pair of shorts he has apparently overgrown.
"You'll find a box there, under the sink, it’s for you," he announces, as you walk into the bathroom to change. It’s filled with anything you might ever need, tissues and makeup removal and pads and medicine, and your cherry shampoo.
"When did you prepare this?" you ask as you open the door wide for him. He peeks his head inside, eyes softening when they take a glimpse at your figure - wearing his shirt, in his bathroom.
"A month ago, or so. Just in case you ever needed to stay the night." He's so thoughtful, you're starting to believe that the word was molded after him. "Is it enough? do you need something else?" he asks tentatively and you shake your head, squeezing his hand lightly. "It's perfect. Thank you."
"Of course. let's brush our teeth?" he smiles and you nod, grabbing the blue toothbrush he bought for you. He squeezes some toothpaste into it, and your eyes meet in the mirror. You can feel a blush creep up your face, to match the tip of his ears turning pink. It felt innocent to blush at the mere act of brushing your teeth together- at the domesticity of it, and the future hopes that lay within it.  
Minho washes his face with his cleanser and you do the same. He suddenly hoists you up the bathroom counter, before standing between your legs. his arms cage your body, as his doe brown eyes look up at you. "Do my skincare for me," he pouts and you giggle, diligently taking the moisturizer and applying it to his face.
You take your time, massaging it into his skin, rubbing soothing circles on his cheeks and the tender skin under his eye. His eyes close at your touch, body leaning forward and pressing onto your legs. You grab his lip balm, applying it evenly to his puckered lips, and then you kiss him. Softly, tenderly, hands going up and down his arms. His own find your waist, encircling it, thumbs skimming your sides.
You lean away, a giddy smile on your face. "Thank you for the lip balm," you say, before kissing the tip of his nose.
Minho's room smells like clean laundry and vanilla, courtesy of the candle he lit up. You've been here before, but this is your first time sleeping on his bed. He goes in first, before beckoning you in. You lay down on his silky pillow, your hair fanning all around you. Some strands of it go into your mouth, and you giggle faintly as you pull them away.
"Here," he says, leaning over your body and opening the drawer next to you. He takes out a hair tie, and a faint memory dances around in your mind- you tying up his hair at the convenience store near Limbo.
"You kept it?" you question incredulously, voice coming out in a faint whisper.
"I did," he says simply as if it's ridiculous for you to expect otherwise. "Can I tie it up for you?" he asks and you nod.
His fingers gather your hair, making sure no strands of it are escaping. They're magical, relieving every tension you have in your body. You feel him twisting the tie around, securing your hair in a low ponytail.
"All done." his voice is quiet, and so is the kiss he presses onto your shoulder.
You both lay down, facing each other. It's silent but it no longer scares you. Not when your fingers are grazing Minho's palm, tentatively, the way one dips their toes into the water to test its temperature. Your hands are dancing around one another, not yet holding each other, as if engaged in a dance only your body understands. His eyes are locked on yours- a brown shade so mesmerizing you wish you could paint the entire universe with it.
His gaze is always soft when it comes to you, pupils slightly dilated, eyelashes fluttering with each blink. They're so quick you almost can't catch them, as if he unconsciously wants the time in which he looks at you to last longer.
Minho's hand reaches behind you, before pulling the slipping comforter over your body. He tucks it in your sides, and warmth surrounds you everywhere; from him mainly. He's been so attentive to you tonight- a silent care you only truly appreciate when you've experienced a lack of it. It's as if he's pouring years' worth of missed love back into your life, and in return all the love you've held within, never bestowed upon anyone else, has found its sole destination in the man by your side.
Your hand circles his once again, and you watch intently the way your fingers graze one another, delicately, as if skimming on the edge of holding one another. You give in first, intertwining your fingers with Minho’s and squeezing them gently. They fit his perfectly, this is where they're supposed to be.
"I don't know what you’re doing to me," he whispers, his eyes locking onto yours once more. There is a newfound emotion gleaming in his gaze- incredulity, at the depth of his feelings.
"What do you mean?" you question, nuzzling closer to him. Your head finds its rest on his arm and he responds instantly by patting your hair.
"I want to keep buying toothbrushes for you." His voice is hushed and yet it resounds loudly within your being, as if shouted from a sky-high rooftop.
You exhale softly, curling your hand around the back of his neck, and pulling him down gently to your face. You press your lips on top of his, and they move slowly, deliberately, like a painter's careful strokes. Each touch of his lips against yours is there to make you feel something- things that he can't bring himself to say, so he shows.
You finally break apart, dazed from the raw emotions barging into your heart. You then lift your head slightly, planting a tender kiss on his forehead. Minho closes his eyes, as your lips linger in there far longer than necessary. They remain closed even after you pull away, and it is the look on his face that pushes you over the edge. The serenity painted across his features, but particularly, the trust. As if you could mold him however you want and he'd be grateful you ever touched him to begin with.
"I love you," you confess so suddenly, and the words feel foreign yet familiar as they stumble out of your lips. You expect a shift in the universe, a disastrous change as you verbalize this sentiment that's long haunted you. And yet, all that happens is Minho's eyes shimmering as they look at you. And you realize that you aren’t scared he'd twist the words and stab you with them. You know he'd cherish them, even if he didn't feel the same.
"I love you," he says back, a radiant smile lighting up his face, coloring each of his features in unadulterated happiness. Hearing those three words from him made your heart leap in your chest. There is so much more of what you feel that you wish to express. You’ve told him, but you want to show, to press your body to his so the feeling would emit from your heart to his own.
Your hand trails across his chest, and you feel his muscles constrict under your touch. "Can I?" you ask, gazes flickering between his eyes and the hem of his shirt. It's always about permission to you both- permission to touch, to feel, to kiss and the answer is always yes. Yes, yes, yes.
"Please," he whispers, and you tug his shirt quickly over his head. You are a goner after that when his hands caress your skin like you're delicate porcelain. He’s hovering over you, the candle's shadow dancing across his body. Your fingers are tracing every inch of his skin graced by the flickering light, which meant your hands were everywhere, and every touch of yours was mirrored by him. Every kiss he returned ten times fold, every gasp he drank in hungrily, only eliciting a louder one in return.
"Tell me if you’d like to stop," he smiled tenderly down at you, his nose nuzzling against yours. You never felt the need to. And as the night marched forward, you gradually grasped what the poets meant by ‘making love’. You felt as if you were truly making love, as if your every move conjured love in its purest essence between the two of you. The ebb and flow of your bodies served as a spell, heightening your emotions into a raw fervor. It was love that orchestrated your moves, binding you both in a cacophony of sweet sounds, meant for you only to hear.
Minho's gaze remained fixed on yours, as he uncovered parts of you you've never dared to show anyone. It only cemented every feeling you harbored towards him. And the safety. The safety of being in his arms. To be as bare as one could possibly be, and yet to still feel blanketed by his soft eyes on you. 
✹✹✹
Dainty snowflakes coat the outside world in a pristine white blanket. It’s a mesmerizing view, one you’ve grown to be grateful for these past few weeks since it signaled the return of winter, and with it, Minho’s birthday.
It's hard to resent snow when it welcomes the existence of the person you’ve fallen in love with.
The outside might be cold but you wouldn't know, not when you are nestled close to Minho, his legs thrown over your lap. You stare fondly at his figure, too engrossed in eating the birthday cake you’ve prepared for him- a vibrant green frosting and a picture of his three cats printed on top, just like he requested some time ago. You lean in a bit, wiping away a trace of whipped cream from the corner of his mouth. He smiles at you tenderly, angling his head to press a soft kiss on your thumb pad.
There is a growing lump in Minho's throat, but it doesn't suffocate him, since it's formed by your love for him- you remembered what he said about the birthday cake. He was joking, obviously. But the fact that you brought his ridiculous wish to reality warmed him beyond belief.
You rummage a bit in your place, hands tucked under the pillows, and then you take out a purple envelope. "Open it," you say as you place it on top of his lap. Minho puts his plate down, straightening out in his place before looking at you, a curious smile on his face.
"More surprises?" he asks, referring to the gift you’ve already given him- a pair of t-shirts, all with cats and silly scriptures imprinted on them.
"Mm," you hum, as Minho finally opens the envelope. He pauses, as his eyes rack furiously over the content of the letter. "What's this?" he asks dumbfounded, trying to fully grasp the meaning of what he's reading.
"Because of constellations, people often think that stars always live together in a cluster. But oftentimes, they are alone. Or... if they're lucky enough, they get to roam the universe with a partner. They call them a binary star. Like you and me." Emotion simmers beneath your words, and you continue, your voice a gentle undercurrent.
"It's comforting to know that other versions of us are going through this world side by side too. To know that long after we're gone, there would still be two stars discovering the universe together, orbiting around one another. A token of the love we lived." You lift your gaze to meet his, to find him staring in awe at you. You take a mental picture of this moment, adding it to the collection of the ones you already captured of him.
"Our love may not be revolutionary, we're only two humans out of billions that have adored before us. But our love is grand to me. I try..." you bite your lip, reaching out for his hand- it will guide you as you try to speak. "I always try to find the words to describe how much you mean to me, to tell you how much you do to me. I used to always hold my hand out, in the hopes that someone would grab it. But no one did, so I curled it into a tight fist. And I thought it'd stay this way, for the rest of my life. Until you came, and you unclenched my fingers gently, one at a time, and then you grabbed it into yours." Tears are trailing out of your eyes now, but you show no effort to wipe them. Happy tears shouldn't be swept away.
"Thank you for existing, my Minho," you smile softly at him, and he nods, tears brimming in his waterline, cheeks flushed pink at your words. "Thank you for kissing my finger pads and reminding me that there is still softness in this world, all embodied in you." You cradle his cheeks tenderly in your hands, trying your best to let your love seep through your fingertips into his soul.
"I think you've carved yourself into me, carved your name into my heart. Your roots intertwined with mine, and thanks to you, I managed to crack through the hard earth and bloom again. Thank you for making me feel the warm sun again. I was so so cold before you." You whisper the last part, like a sinner's confession, eager for it to be carried away, forgotten.
Minho brings your body to his, as he buries his face in your chest. You can feel slight tremors shaking his body, and you place soft kisses on his shoulder blade- soothing, calming. You are safe in my love for you, they spell out.
"I can't believe you’ve named stars after us," he mumbles against you, and your fingers thread through his hair gently, flattening out stubborn strands of it. "It's nothing," you smile and he shakes his head vehemently. "It's not- it's not nothing to be loved by you. It's everything to me."
He leans away, bringing your head down to press his lips into yours. It tastes sweet from the cake and salty from his tears. It tastes like healing. You both kiss for mere seconds and yet it feels like an eternity to you. As if your mind stretches out time with Minho, knowing how valuable it becomes with him. He presses his lips onto yours one last time, before exhaling softly, melting completely in your hold.
"As long as you're with me, I don't ever need to look at the sky," he whispers. "There are enough stars in your eyes for me."
✹✹✹
It’s late December and the fragrant aroma of hot chocolate fills your apartment. You’re preparing two cups of the cozy drink in your kitchen, while Minho watches you fondly, leaning casually on the doorway.
"Are you just gonna stare at me?" you giggle, turning around to toss him a sly smile.
"Do you need my help making hot chocolate?" he raises an eyebrow, a mischievous smirk tugging at the corners of his mouth.
"Yes, I wouldn't say no to a bit of emotional support."
"Ah, my bad," he playfully bows, walking over to you. Minho gently wraps his arms around your waist, leaning his chin on your shoulder. His bangs tickle the side of your face, akin to the brush of a butterfly’s wing, and a soothing sense of contentment washes over you as he holds you close.
Minho places a soft kiss on your shoulder blade, and the touch sends shivers along your spine. "This is for warming up the milk," he mumbles, adding another kiss to your neck, "and this for mixing in the hot chocolate powder," and a final one to your temple, "and this is for pouring it in cups."
"Why thank you," you giggle, turning around to hand him his cup. "Do you remember what episode we stopped at?"
"37," he replies instantly.
"I think you love this anime more than me," you pout jokingly. "I plead the fifth," he answers solemnly and you chuckle as you both make your way to the couch.
Merely one episode in and you can already tell that Minho is no longer focusing on the show. He’s absently swirling the drink in his hand, his gaze lost within his cup.
"What did the poor hot chocolate do to you?" you smile, a beacon of curiosity piercing through his daze. His head snaps up at the sound of your voice, turning around to look at you sheepishly. "Just zoned out."
"I noticed. What's on your mind?" you ask, lowering the volume of the TV to fully focus on him.
"There is an upcoming dance competition. It's at a regional scale and I'm just... wondering if I should participate."
"You should!" you fervently reply, "You're such a talented dancer. You deserve recognition for your hard work."
"I'll become very busy, though. It's already hard enough to manage this degree," he speaks softly as if he's not fully convinced of this excuse himself.
"I've never seen you as happy as you are when you're dancing. You'll handle it, and I'll be there for you too."
"I should do it, right?" he asks, a small smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.
"You really should," you echo, your hand rubbing reassuringly across his arm.
"Okay. I will," he nods, and you beam at him, before pulling him in for a comforting hug.
"On second thought... Everyone will now see how talented my boyfriend is and they will fall in love with you," you playfully muse as you hold him close.
"But everyone's already in love with me," he says in a matter-of-fact tone.
"Mm, the heartthrob of campus."
"People throw themselves right and left at me, it's exhausting," he sighs, the giddy smile easily heard in his voice.
"Okay, now you're overdoing it," you giggle and he further buries his head in your neck, inhaling the scent of your perfume. "Don't worry," he mumbles quietly, "I'm only ever yours."
As weeks meld into months, your days become a whirlwind of preparation for the dance competition; where each participant is required to create a choreography from scratch, for a song of their choosing. You witness firsthand the immense effort Minho pours into this, just as he does with everything he undertakes. He spent hours upon hours in the university's dance studio, and you were often there with him. While he practiced, you sat in a corner, working on your laptop. He only paused to kiss the top of your head before diving back into his practice.
He chose a song you've never heard before, called Taste. It was mesmerizing to witness him become a vessel for the melody, like an instrument attuned perfectly to the emotions the song tried to convey. His body moved sensually, flowing like fluid water, perfectly controlled by him. Every beat in Taste was matched with a move of his, powerful enough to capture you, gentle enough not to overwhelm you, like the ebb and flow of the waves brushing against the shore.
The first two months slipped through the hourglass of time in a breeze. And although Minho grew busier, you still both managed to carve out time for quick dates. Strolls by the ocean and spontaneous trips to the cinema- outings that helped you recharge fully once again. But the third month coincided with your midterm exams, casting a heavier cloud over both of your lives.
Minho became overwhelmed, quickly, bearing the weight of his two worlds. He was smart, immensely so, he could handle his classes with ease, retaining knowledge faster than anyone you knew. But the day only had twenty-four hours in it, and he couldn't possibly do it all- finding time to practice, study and take care of himself. So, you tried to handle the last part, as best as you could anyways. Exam seasons always took a heavy toll on you- both physically and emotionally. It also didn't help that you went down with a strong flu for two weeks, making your energy levels plummet to zero.
It was only three days before the start of your exams when a soft knock resounded on your door. You opened it to find an exhausted Minho. He’s fidgeting with the hem of his shirt, beads of sweat glistening on his upper brow.
"I'm tired," he whispers, eyes looking absolutely devoid of emotion as they align with yours. You smile softly, grabbing his hand and pulling him inside, "I know."
You lead him to the bathroom and he follows silently. He's so compliant in your hands as if all the energy in his body was sucked out of him. "Bad day?" you ask, as you peel away his blue hoodie.
"Very." He says, voice barely above a whisper.
"It's okay. You're here now," you try to keep your voice just as quiet as you take off the rest of his clothes. You undress quickly as well, before pulling you both to the shower.
Minho rests his forehead on your back, as you check the water temperature. When it's warm enough to feel soothing on his skin, you pull him underneath the jet, and you both stand in there for a while. His head hung low, now buried in the crook of your neck; his breaths growing slower, more even.
"You did well, my Minho," you say, voice threatening to get lost in the sound of the water hitting the tiles, but Minho catches it. He tightens his hold on you in response.
Minho can feel you reaching over and grabbing something from the rack behind him. He recognizes the smell of your shampoo as you pour it in your hands, before lathering it gently on his hair. He almost starts crying right there and then, as your fingers skillfully massage his scalp. You are everywhere, pressed to his body and your hands in his hair, and your cherry scent that’s washing all over him. And the outside world suddenly seems so far away.
You rinse off the shampoo, before grabbing your conditioner and threading it through his hair, making sure that every strand is evenly covered. He shuts his eyes closed, as your hands move to his neck and start massaging it. He's so sore from all the dancing, tired from the studying he has to catch up on. But you’re making him feel okay now, as you unravel his nerves without uttering a word. How do you do it? He wants to ask; how do you always paint his world blue?
Your hands are trailing over his body now, not sensually, just easing the knots in his muscles. You're spreading body wash all over him, and his eyes are still closed, as he feels you place tender kisses on his soapy skin. ‘I love you', your voice reaches him like a faraway lullaby, 'you've been working so hard', 'I'm proud of you'; and your comforting words morph into hot tears lodged into his waterline, begging for an escape.
You finally turn the water off, before pulling him outside and wrapping a towel around his waist. He sits idly on the edge of the bed, as you quickly put on your clothes, before walking over to him. You help him wear his pajamas, the ones he's left in your apartment since he often stays the night. He can't move a limb, but you're doing it in his place- as if the life in you was blown into him, and he's only breathing thanks to you.
Once you’re both fully clothed, you sit behind Minho on the bed, legs on either side of his body. You grab a towel you warmed in advance and begin to gently dry his hair with it, patting each strand with care. As soon as you're done, Minho turns around, nestling his head against your stomach. You let him, hands rubbing soothing circles on his back.
"I already told you, but I'm very proud of you," you say, head lowered so he'd be able to hear you. "I'm so amazed by your strength and hard work. You inspire me a lot, Min. Just keep on going, and if you need a break, you can rest by my side, okay?" You place a gentle kiss on the top of his head.
"I love you," you add softly, and Minho tightens his hold on you. And then he crumbles. Completely.
He falls apart in your arms, painful sobs racking through his body. You panic, as the unfamiliar sounds knock your breath away. You've seen Minho cry before, single tears that managed to escape from his eyes, trailing on his cheeks. But you've never seen him so shattered, so consumed by his pain that he could no longer contain it. You’re caught in his storm, as uncharted waves of his hurt crash against your shores. Has he been hurting all along? Were you this oblivious to the pain brewing inside him?
Your body’s shaking as you press your chest to his back, your arms cocooning his curled-up figure. You try your best to shield him; you don't know from what exactly, but you know it has to go through you first to get to him again.
"I'm so- sorry you have to see me this way," he hiccups, his words digging their claws deeper into your chest.
"Don't say that, baby, please. It's okay, you can cry as much as you want. I'm here."
"I'm sorry," he repeats, voice quivering, and you can feel your heart slowly cracking, hurting in depths you haven't thought existed before.
"Minho, I don't- I don't only love you when you're happy. I love you when you're angry and frustrated and when you're sad. You deserve kindness and you deserve to be kind to yourself because you are still Minho. My Minho. No matter what emotion you're feeling."
"Please stay with me," he pleads softly, and you bite your lower lip, as traitorous tears escape your eyes and land on his shirt. "Where would I go, love? You're my home. I'm here."  
✹✹✹
Selfish. Selfish. Selfish. 
The thought that's been reverberating within your mind, echoing since the moment Minho crumbled in your embrace.
Selfish. 
Of course you are, since you remained oblivious to his own struggles as he slowly chipped away, until he shattered unexpectedly. Akin to a seemingly sturdy building, struck by a minor vibration and suddenly reduced to ruins.
Selfish. 
Each time you sought solace in him, you failed to realize that he was stripping away his layers to shelter you. You took and took from him, each time you called, each time he came over to brush away your tears. Your endless bad days didn't leave room for his struggles, unperceived amidst your turmoil.
Selfish and horrible. You weren't made to be loved. 
Minho is sleeping right next to you. He looks peaceful, endearing bunny-like teeth peeking through slightly parted lips. He's undisturbed, like a placid river, until someone selfishly decides to skip some stones in it- you. 
His chest rises and falls, erasing all remnants of his previous breakdown, like a scripture on sand washed away by the waves. You could almost forget it ever happened if it wasn't for the persistent echoes of his sobs. Raw pain had seeped through him, yet it could have been different. If you had asked more, he might have unraveled slowly. He would have talked and he would've never had to explode. 
Selfish and guilty. There's a bitter taste in your mouth. It doesn't go away when you hastily gulp down water.
You'll keep your problems to yourself. There is enough for him to bear already. By sharing your load, you aren't diminishing it, only adding more to his. 
You can't let your mother be right. Not about this. Not when it comes to Minho. You can't ruin his life too. 
✹✹✹
You are being distant. 
Minho notices it straight away when you stop coming over to his dorm. When you find excuses to not come to Limbo anymore, accounting it for the exams you're both taking. But he knows it's just excuses. You are straying away from him. Your light that shone on him every day suddenly turned into a distant lighthouse beam. 
And it's his fault. 
He's embarrassed by his outburst. How he broke down right in front of you. How he clung to your arms, counting on your words and touch to stitch him back together. How he wasn't enough for himself, but you were. 
Guilt floods his being, making you sadder when you're already dealing with so much. He recounts your tears dripping into his hair, as you hugged him tightly to your body. He made you cry; he shouldn't have broken down. That's why you're staying away. He can't blame you. 
He misses you. He saw you this morning and yet he misses you. Because you weren't there with him, you were somewhere else, in a faraway place in your mind. What if he can't reach you anymore? He wasn't sure what to do with himself without you. 
It's 11 pm, and he's knocking softly on your door. You open it and he smiles tightly. You smile back. 
He hovers around the entrance of your apartment, hands tightly clasped behind his back. You unclasp them, interlocking your fingers with his and leading him to your couch. You are warm, he missed you. You are here and he misses you. 
You both sit down, and you're looking at him curiously. His eyes fall to your lips, pillowy and rosy and he can't help pressing his mouth onto yours. It'll give him the courage to speak. 
"I'm sorry," he whispers against your lips and you lean away, confusion clearly written across your features. 
"For crying the other day," he clarifies. "I've made you uncomfortable and you feel like you have to be cautious around me, and I'm sorry, I won't do it again." 
"What are you saying? You didn't- you never..." you suck in a deep breath, inching closer to him.  "Minho, don't ever apologize for that. please. You should never apologize for being human."
"But you are being distant," he says in a small voice, avoiding your eyes. 
"Minho, I..." you bring your hand to his cheek, locking your gaze with his. "It's not what you think. I promise."
"Then what is it?"
You bite your lip, sighing loudly before speaking again. "You sobbed. And I had no idea you were hurting that much inside. I am so reclined on myself that I didn't notice. And I tried to distance myself so I'd sort my thoughts out. So, I could be there for you, fully. You're always here for me, and I feel... As if I failed you." 
It's now his turn to cup your cheek, his thumbs gently brushing against your skin. 
"I felt so loved by you that day. That's why I cried. because I've never felt that way before," he's quick to explain. "Yes, I was stressed and overwhelmed but it's not your fault. You were there for me when I needed you most. You didn't fail me; how could you think that?" 
"Because it should've never gotten that bad. If I had noticed before, then I would've helped you and it wouldn't have gotten that bad for you. You don't deserve to feel sad, not when you’re... You. Someone like you shouldn't feel sad." 
"Didn't you say we're humans? Isn't that what humans do? They fall down and they get up, I can't always be fine. It's not your fault." 
"Minho you don't understand... How much more of yourself can you give to me, without hurting yourself in return?" You're so sure of these words you're uttering, as if you've drilled them into your mind by now. You couldn't be more wrong. 
Minho blinks repeatedly, trying to gather the words in his mind properly. You weren't distancing yourself from him, because he had hurt you. But rather, so you wouldn't hurt him anymore. So, you'd be there for him more. A sudden relief floods his being. He isn't losing you. 
Minho can't help the chuckle that escapes his mouth. He shakes his head slightly as he brings you to his chest. You're so warm as you wrap your arms around his waist. He still misses you but you're here, you aren't going anywhere. 
"You memorized my coffee order. And my favorite pudding. You always bring me one when you come over. When you find a new flavor, I haven't tried, you always buy it for me. You look at me so excitedly when I try it. As if me finding a new favorite pudding brings your personal joy," he's talking softly, slowly, in the hopes that you'd understand what he means. 
"You love spicy food, but you always cook without it when I'm with you. Because I can't handle it as well as you. You put snacks and water in my bag when I have dance practice, and then you come to check on me, even when you're busy too. You bought me an umbrella, and you placed it near the entrance of my dorm, so I wouldn't forget it. You give me the opened chopsticks package first, and you blow on my food so it wouldn't burn my tongue. And you let me pick the movie, every time. You let me pick it," he places a soft kiss on your shoulder, tightening his hold on you. 
"You brush my hair away from my eyes when you think I'm asleep. And you make sure the blanket covers my body entirely, even if it means it doesn't cover you. I've never had that. Never had someone care for me this gently. Even when I'm not awake and I can't give them anything in return." 
He leans back, smiling softly at you. There is a new palpable emotion in the air- love, in its most unconditional form. It smells fragrant and sweet- like you and him. 
"I notice everything you do for me, every way in which you love me. You're here for me in more ways than you can ever imagine. And I love you. Please don't stray away from me. Promise me," he pouts slightly, nudging his pinky toward your face. You giggle in defeat, before wrapping your pinky with his. 
"Didn't you think pinky promises were silly?" 
"Nothing you like is silly."
"Not even that cheesy drama I watch?" 
"Okay. Maybe that one is. But it makes you laugh," he trails off. "If it makes you laugh then I like it too." 
"You'll talk to me more, right? About whatever's bothering you? When you're not feeling black yet?" 
"I will, I promise. You too, right?"
"Mm. I will too." 
"Good," he smiles, pecking your cheek softly. "I've missed you. And I don't mind feeling all the colors of the rainbow, as long as you're near me."
✹✹✹
The voices of your friends singing you happy birthday reaches you like the distant chirping of birds, fading away in the back of your mind with each passing second. You know that Mina is smiling at you, her head resting on Jeongin’s shoulders. And that Chan, Han and Felix are all clapping excitedly, their voices blending together in a somewhat harmonious melody. But you can’t seem to focus on any of it. Your eyes are set on Minho, who’s walking over to you, a vibrant pink cake in his hand. The surface of it is covered in candy- marshmallows and macaroons, and a dozen of lit candles. Their light flickers on Minho’s face, casting an ethereal glow on him.
And as your widened eyes meet his, he knows that it all just clicked in place for you.
Four months ago.
"What did you like to do, when you were younger?"
You stay quiet for a few moments, mulling over Minho’s question. The waves crash softly at your feet, the sound of them and Minho’s arms around you serving as a perfect cover to thread through your childhood once again.
"I had a bunny plushie. My aunt gave it to me one day when her daughter didn't want it anymore. She was going to throw it out, but I took care of it. We took care of each other, in a way. I used to stay alone at home a lot, and Caramelo would keep me company."
"Caramelo?" he giggles and you pinch his arm playfully. "I was six when I named it, sue me."
"Mm, and where is Caramelo now?"
"I left it in the house. I packed in such a hurry and it didn't fit in my suitcase. But I really wanted to bring it," you smile sadly and Minho can sense a shift in your tone, so he trails his hands across your arms gently, pulling you even closer to his chest.
"What else did you like?" he asks, placing a kiss under the shell of your ear.
"Playing in the playground, there was one really near home. I'd sneak out and go play in the swing, but there was no one to push me higher there," you chuckle slightly, burying yourself further in Minho's embrace. 
"Oh, but I met a girl there when I was eleven, Lydia, I think. She was our neighbor, and she invited me to my first ever birthday party. Her parents prepared this huge cake for her, it was all pink with so much candy on top. I kept dreaming about having a similar one for my birthday. We also painted each other's nails and put on facemasks, and then we watched a movie. It was really fun," you recall, a wave of nostalgia washing over you. You were really shy and didn't talk to the other girls present, staying away in a corner. But Lydia grabbed your hand and pulled you next to her. She didn't let go during the entire movie.
You hoped she was okay, wherever she might be now.
"And... my mom took me one day to a hill near our home. We sat on a bench there, overlooking the city's lights. We didn't talk but she braided my hair since it kept getting in my mouth. That's my favorite memory with her."
Your voice is carried away with the wind, drowned in the waves. You hoped that one day your childhood memories will come back to you, like the sea foam dissolving at your feet. Gentle, incapable of hurting you anymore. 
"You know what I really want now? A big cake for my birthday too," Minho suddenly whines and you giggle, turning around to look at him.
"Want me to bake it for you?" you tease and he nods, cradling your face between his cold hands. They warm up once they rest on your cheeks.
"Yes. I want the cats’ pictures printed on it, and..." he trails off, looking up at the sky. "I want it to be green.”
"Green?" you chuckle. "Isn't that a bit weird for a cake?"
"Are you questioning my vision?" he wiggles his brows at you, his hands coming to your sides.
"I am," you laugh, as he starts to tickle you, unwaveringly. You fall to the sand, and he's on top of you, hands roaming your body as loud laughter erupts from you.
Minho’s eyes soften as he gazes at your laughing figure, but he doesn't stop, not until you tap his arm multiple times, happy tears trailing from your eyes.
"I'm sorry, I'm sorry. Green is perfect, you are a genius!"
"Why thank you," he smiles, before leaning down and kissing your tears away. You shiver slightly, from the cold and the feel of his soft lips on your skin. He notices.
"Come on," he outstretches his hand and you grab it, standing up and dusting your pants. Minho squats slightly in front of you, and you giggle before climbing on top of his back.
"Don't you ever wonder who was the person who invented tickling? They were just sitting down and then they touched someone and they started laughing,” he suddenly muses.
"Right! And then they decided this was something they should keep on doing, and it stuck around for centuries."
"I think it's really cute. It says I love the sound of your laugh so much that I will sit there and tickle you just to hear it."
"And you just tickled me," you trail out. "I know," he mumbles, the tips of his ears suddenly turning pink.
"I like your laugh too, Minho."
"Just like?" He teases, in a futile attempt to diffuse his shyness. 
"I love it. I love it so much I could pay my entire life savings just to keep on hearing it again."
"Stop," he whines and you giggle, swinging your dangling feet in the air.
"Have you ever heard your laugh? No other melody can compare. At this point, musicians should just retire."
"You're insufferable," he finally laughs and you sigh, melting into his back.
"And you like me."
"And I love you."
Present time
The realization dawns on you like a floodgate- Minho is recreating your happiest childhood memories.
From the pink cake of your dreams. To the obnoxiously glittery nail polish he brought home three days ago, spontaneously, you foolishly assumed. He insisted on having a pampering night, where you both applied face masks to one another, bunny headbands tucking your hair out of your face. You giggled as he painted your nails with the utmost concentration, and then begged you to paint his in return. He didn't explain why he wanted pink nails suddenly, you should've known. 
You should've known when he suddenly knocked on your door at midnight, taking your sleepy figure to the playground near your apartment. "Why are you here so late?" you questioned, rubbing your eyes tiredly. 
"We are sneaking out," he whispered in your ear, and you didn't question his flawed logic- who were you sneaking out from exactly? But all was forgotten as he pushed you in the swing, fueled by your growing high-pitched giggles. "Higher?" he shouted and you laughed loudly, the sound of it echoing around the park. "Yes, higher!" Until you felt as if you were close enough to touching the stars. 
You should've known. 
Minho places the cake on the table, his warm hand finding your lower back. He rubs it soothingly, as you mouth a heartfelt "thank you" to him, hot tears prickling at the corner of your eyes. You couldn't speak, afraid of bursting into sobs in front of all your friends. He understands what you're referring to.
It's far later into the night when your friends finally leave Minho's dorm. You've all cleaned up the place, soft music emitting from the speakers. You didn't need songs to fill the silence, the conversations flowing easily between you all.
You gather all the gifts you've received and take them to Minho's room- a pair of shoes you've been raving about from Mina and Jeongin, and new headphones from Chan, Han, and Felix, since your old ones stopped working not too long ago.
"You're okay?" Minho asks, pressing a chaste kiss to the top of your head.
"Better than ever," you beam at him, cupping Minho's neck and meeting his lips in a tender kiss. 
"I'm still not done," he smiles secretly, brushing his lips against yours once more, before pulling away. You watch, curious as he heads towards his closet and takes something out of it. Your eyes grow wide as they settle on the gift in his hands. You can feel your lip quivering as you walk hastily over to him. 
"Is this...?" you ask incredulously and he nods, a happy smile on his face. "Your Caramelo."
"How... When?" you stammer, as happy tears blur your vision, "How did you do it?"
"I have my ways," he smiles assuredly at you. "Do you like it? I'm sorry if I overstepped by bringing it to you," he adds softly, a hint of vulnerability in his words.
"No, Minho, this is the sweetest, most thoughtful thing anyone has ever done for me. I can't believe it- I... I don't even know what to say."
"You don't have to say anything," he smiles, his hand rubbing your arm affectionately. "I figured this plushie should be in a loving home, with you. It helped you back then and now you're strong enough to help it in return."
There are overwhelming emotions that we can't quite express with words- like sorrow, sadness, or in your case, happiness. That's why touch was invented, you believe. As you pull Minho for a bone-crushing hug, Caramelo snug between your chests, you hope that he can feel everything you failed to express through words. That your soul will speak to him in a way your mouth couldn’t. 
"When you told me there is a friend of yours, who lived in my town. There was no friend, right?" you mumble into his neck.
"No, I just wanted to know your address," he whispers, arms tightening around your waist.
"Did you meet my mom?"
"Yes. She's the one who gave it to me."
"Did she tell you anything... about me?" you ask cautiously.
Minho remembers snippets of his conversation with your mother- the indifference she showed towards you, as if it wasn't her daughter, her flesh and blood that she discarded away so easily. 
"Nothing of importance. I promise you."
"Thank you," you whisper, voice caught up in your throat, bound by the ropes of your overflowing emotions. "Thank you for healing me."
Sleep didn’t come easily to you that night, and as Minho snored quietly next to you, you untangled your limbs from his, before heading to the kitchen to retrieve a glass of water. 
You find that the lights are already on and that Chan is working on his laptop, eyebrows furrowed as he gazed at his screen.
"Hey," you greet softly, careful not to startle him. 
"Our birthday girl," Chan grins and you chuckle quietly, before settling next to him on the couch. 
"What are you working on?" you question, taking in the different settings displayed on his screen.
"Just a new song," he shrugs sheepishly, "I'm almost done with it." 
"That's nice," you mumble, tucking your knees into your chest. 
"I suppose Minho already gave you your gift," Chan speaks softly and you startle, turning around to look at him. 
"He didn't tell me what it is, don't worry. But I assume he pretended as if it was no big deal, that he got it." 
You nod silently, fearing that speaking would stop Chan from talking. 
"I told him that he should just walk up to your house, present himself, and then ask your mom if he can take some of your stuff for you. But he said it’s too risky, and there is a chance she might say no. So, you know what he did?" Chan chuckles softly, and you feel the breath slowly escape your chest. "He spent weeks researching all the moving companies that work in your town. And then he bought us uniforms that looked like one of theirs. With the name tags and all. We rented a truck and we drove there, so we’d pretend as if we were moving the rest of your belongings. Your mom didn't question it thankfully, and I've never seen Minho as relieved as when he climbed back into the truck."
An overwhelming need to cry threatens to consume you, and you bite your lip harshly to stop it from taking over. Not in front of Chan.
"For him to go these lengths for you, means that he loves you a lot. But also, that he feels really loved by you. So, thank you, for loving Minho. I'm very happy you guys are together now." Chan smiles softly at you, before getting up and ruffling your hair slightly. 
You quickly go back to Minho's room, before bringing his body tightly to yours. And as soon as you touch him, he mumbles your name in his sleep before throwing an arm over your waist.
"Thank you for loving me. I love you so much too," you whisper into his back, as your tears dampen his shirt. You wished that the words would reach him in his dreams, making them sweeter for him.
You didn't make a wish that day, as you blew the candles, foolishly believing that everything you've ever wanted was already around you. But you should've.
Maybe that would've stopped the anguish to come.
✹✹✹
There is a bad feeling nudged into the space between your ribs. You rub a soothing palm across your chest, in the hopes that it will calm your spiking anxiety. But you only feel your heart growing more erratic in your chest, and the sound of it only makes you panic ten times fold.
You’ve just woken up. You can hear the water running in the shower. Minho has stayed over since you both studied late into the night. You listen intently, a small breath of relief escaping your mouth when the water turns off. He’s okay.
You drag a hand tiredly across your face, before shaking your head left and right. You’ll have a good day, you’ll open the blinds and the golden sun will stream through your windows, and you’ll feel okay.
You don’t.
The dread lingers in your being throughout the day, making the simple act of walking weigh heavily on your bones. You try to distract yourself, by focusing on your classes and listening to Mina’s rants about her latest date with Jeongin. But to no prevail. So, you surrender to that feeling, today’s a bad day, but tomorrow doesn’t have to be. You’ll make sure of it.
It’s five pm when you finally walk up the stairs of your apartment. Minho went to grab you both something to eat since you’ll be studying again tonight. You wish he’d come home quickly, so you wouldn’t attach your anxiety to him. As long as you see him, then he’s okay.
You open the door, pausing by the front entrance. Something in you tells you to flee, to turn back, and never set foot inside. You don’t listen to it. If you paid attention to everything your mind tells you then you’d never truly live.
You quickly change out of your clothes, before turning on the TV. You mindlessly scroll through the show suggestions, and settle on one you haven’t seen before. You turn up the volume, making sure that the voices of the characters would drown the ones in your mind.
But then, your phone rings. It vibrates from the coffee table, the name of your aunt illuminating your screen. She calls you from time to time, but why is she doing it today? You don’t want to answer, not when there is a bulge in your throat suffocating you.
You watch numbly as the phone call seizes. You breathe out a shaky exhale. You’ll call her tomorrow.
The phone rings again.
You bite your lip harshly, hands shaking as you bring the device to your ear. You’re overreacting, you tell yourself. Nothing’s wrong. Minho will be home soon.
"What’s going on?" you ask immediately, the question slipping out of your mouth before you even thought about it.
Your aunt sighs softly, and then her voice floods your being. It sounds hoarse like she’s been crying. "Look, I…" another sigh, and you imagine her fidgeting with the hem of her dress. She always wore dresses. All seasons mingled. With pretty flowers sewed into them and sometimes even-
"Your mother died in a car accident."
Silence. You can't hear anything after those words are uttered. You know that your TV is still playing in the background and that your aunt is still talking on the phone. But it's completely silent. For five seconds. Where the world stills, as if to allow you a brief moment to process what you just heard.
Your mom. Gone.
But then, sounds crash upon you like a relentless wave. The shatter of the characters in the background, the ticking of your clock, the dull buzz of the refrigerator. And your aunt, she's still talking, telling you about the funeral and when it will be held and you can't believe what you are hearing.
It's all too overwhelming, everything surrounding you is too much to bear so you simply hang up.
You put your phone down on the table. And then you turn it off. That's one sound dealt with.
You turn the TV off and dismantle the clock from your wall so it wouldn't tick anymore. You then unplug your refrigerator. Has its buzzing always been this loud? You wonder. But it doesn’t matter anymore. Now it’s silent. It's what you crave.
Minho will come home soon. You should make him something to eat. You think to yourself. A fruit salad. It's warm outside and the fruits are refreshing.
So, you grab a knife from your drawer, and then you start peeling an orange. Then an apple. It's rugged, and half the fruit is wasted with the peel. You've never really known how to peel the skin properly. So, you put the knife down. The blade is slightly red, you notice. There is blood oozing from your finger. You cut yourself. But it doesn't hurt, so you leave it be.
Light floods your apartment, a stark contrast to the shadows within you. But you want it to be dark, and silent. You already took care of that last part. So, you pull down all the blinds and turn off the lights one by one. Now it's pitch black. Now it's quiet.
You sit on the floor, running your hand across the tiles. You count them, one, two, three. When is Minho coming home?
The floor is cold underneath you, the sensation heightened since your every other sense is muffled. You can't see, you can't hear, but you can still touch. You wished you couldn't anymore. The smallest sensation overstimulates you.
The front door unlocks, but you don't hear someone coming in. You imagine Minho standing by the door, looking around in the dark. It's okay, he'll find you. He always does.
"Honey?" he calls out and you reply from the living room, "I’m here."
You don't have to yell, it's quiet enough for your voice to be carried around your home with ease.
Minho has his flashlight on, you notice. He's looking for you and he finally spots you on the ground. You move a strand of your hair behind your ear, and you feel something warm smear across your cheek. You forgot about your cut- a reminder of the pain lurking beneath the surface, waiting patiently to consume you.
"Baby?" His tone is soft and careful, and you can see the worry brewing in his brown eyes. Why was he worried? You're okay. Nothing happened.
"I made you a fruit salad. It's in the kitchen. Can you please turn off the light?"
"Okay." His voice is calm, and you don't mind him talking. You could bear it. He was different after all, to you.
He’s pulled into the abyss with you, as he sits down next to your rigid figure. His hand rests on top of your pinkie, but you recoil from it. Not because you hate it, but his hand is warm and the floor beneath you is cold. That's a contrasting sensation. You don't want that. You just want a stillness, to feel like a straight line. Straight lines are always sure of themselves, of where they're going. You were tired of feeling like a bent one at the hands of the universe.
"What happened, baby?"
"Nothing."
"Okay. What did you do when I left, hm?"
"Nothing much. I was watching this new show, I think you’ll like it. And then my aunt called. She told me my mom died in a car accident. And then I went to the kitchen and I cut up some fruits. But I didn't know how to peel them. Can you believe it?" you giggle, your voice suddenly high-pitched. "I mean who- who doesn’t know how to peel the skin of an apple? Isn't that such a basic skill?" You're laughing now, you don't know what's funny, but you're laughing.
"And I cut my finger, but I didn't feel anything, Minho. I don't- I don't feel anything," you're still giggling, hot tears trailing down your cheeks rapidly. "My mother died and I don't feel anything. Why- why can't I feel anything? Minho, I can't- I can't-" You're hyperventilating, words straining to come out of your mouth. The breath is knocked out of you and white spots cloud your vision, like the stars that dance around Minho’s eyes. They seem kind enough so you don't fight them. You want to welcome them in the hopes that they'd take this unbearable weight off of you.
"Yn, yn, breathe for me, baby. Listen to my voice," Minho calls out and it's as if you're pulled in two opposing directions. He sounds scared, so you try to do as he says. You don’t want him to worry about you.
"You're doing so well, breathe with me, okay? Breathe in... Breathe out... Perfect, let's do it again," he instructs and you try your best to follow suit. You can feel yourself shaking, your hands moving as if they have a mind of their own. You are cold, too cold, and you can't help but wonder if it's how your mother is feeling right now too.
The thought seems to drive you over the edge and you let out a guttural sob. It racks from within you, reverberating from the depths of your splitting soul. It's a pain unlike any you've ever felt. You try to find something to compare it to, a sensation you imagine must hurt the same. But you can't find any. You can't find a metaphor to make the pain more bearable.  
So instead, you let out a heart-wrenching scream, slicing through the silence you tried desperately to maintain. Your throat aches from the strain on your vocal cords but you pay it no mind, not when there is a pain bursting open every seam of yours, undoing every thread you so carefully stitched back into your soul.   
Amidst your pitch-black apartment, you see yourself quivering in the corner, head buried in your hands. And then it’s thirteen years old you sitting there, the one who wished for something so horrible to happen on the birthday she spent alone, yet again. Your wish came true, you want to tell her. You tried to take it back, but it came true.
Minho gathers you in his arms, and you clung to him. You know he's trying to wrap you up the best he can, his arms around your back and his legs pressed on you. He's trying his best to stop you from falling apart. From breaking beyond the point of no return. And you think to yourself that you've passed it. You've passed it and he's clinging helplessly into your remains now.
✹✹✹
The funeral went by in a blur, its details elusive in your memory. At times it felt like a fever dream, a mirage conjured by your mind. And sometimes you tried to believe it, to lull yourself into a comfortable thought. Where you don't talk with your mom and she doesn't know how you are doing, but she's still alive. On the other side of the country. She's still breathing.
But this fleeting comfort is quickly shattered. The thought barely lingers, like a whisper in the wind, never staying long enough for you to finally draw in a full breath. Because the grief clings onto your skin, and you carry it with you everywhere, like a stench that won’t quite leave you. You wonder if other people can smell it on you too.
Minho hasn't left your side, once. He's always next to you. His hands are resting on your back or brushing your cheek tenderly. They are always near. And you hold them tightly. You practically memorized the lines etched on his palm. It's all you stared at during the funeral.
It felt wrong and unjust to be somewhere where everybody knew your mother, except for you. You felt as if you were left out, robbed of happy memories to mourn as well. So, you remained silent, gaze fixed intently on Minho's palm. And he didn't mind; he never does when it comes to you.
He's gentle with you, he's always been, but he's particularly gentle with you these weeks. The countless times he's cared for you blur together- his soapy hands skimming your body, massaging the shampoo into your hair when your limbs felt too heavy to move; the meals he cooked for you, making sure that each bite was cool enough before feeding it to you. How he always told you he was proud of you, at random times throughout your days. ‘What for?’ you wanted to scream, ‘I'm barely alive as it is’. "For breathing," he'd add as if he heard the thoughts swirling in your mind. "For being here. For waking up today." 
He did your laundry and he folded your clothes. Sometimes he even picked your outfits and dressed you in the morning. Leaving pecks all over your face after each worn clothing. You wanted to smile, to tell him how much you loved him. How his love felt like a sun ray peeking through the cell hole of a prisoner. But you couldn't speak. So, you hoped he knew.
He unburdened you of all these mundane tasks, so you'd focus on other ones. Like attending classes and taking notes and writing essays. Because as much as you wished for it, the world did not pause for your sorrow. In the grand tapestry of existence, where did you stand exactly? You were nothing but a mere speck of light. Your emotions, as profound as they were to you, did not hold the power to halt the world's march, to compel universal mourning.
But Minho made your world stop, just like he promised, almost a year and a half ago. When you finally found your voice, he'd listen to you talk, your head on his lap, his fingers weaving through your hair gently.
"I feel like I’m mourning two people. The person I knew and the person she could have been," you told him one night and he hummed, listening intently to you.
"The what-ifs are killing me Minho. It feels like I’m suffocating each time I think of what could have been. She left so suddenly. But she should've stayed. Maybe our relationship would've gotten better."
"Maybe… or maybe not, you can never truly know. And it’s not your job to find the answers to the questions she left behind. Maybe she didn’t even have them herself."
You appreciated how his hand never left yours, as you journeyed through seas of uncharted emotions. The anger- that came with her leaving so abruptly, leaving you behind with a heavy baggage to dissect. The sadness- from losing the woman who will always be part of you. Because we don't kill our hopeful past selves, we simply bury them and they remain just under the surface of our souls, a testament to everything we've been through.
The nostalgia- that creeps in from time to time, conjuring rose-tinted memories in your head. Maybe her voice was softer here. She did ask about your day one time. Wasn't that her sitting on the benches in your musical play? But it wasn't, it was just your brain trying to soften the harshness of losing her.
It is how our minds cope with grief, your therapist says. Minho convinced you to go see one. Because love doesn't mend everything. And he needed you to be okay again, for yourself.
He's always waiting for you after your sessions end. With coffee and a fresh pastry. You didn't eat them at first, because they tasted bland and you'd rather not waste them. But one time you bit into the strawberry muffin and it tasted sweet and citrusy. And you smiled at Minho.
He stared at you in awe that day, and then he kissed you softly, pressing his pillowy lips against yours. His eyes mirrored galaxies, tears tracing constellations down his cheeks. "You look so pretty when you smile," he whispered tenderly and you felt emotion bubbling within you, stuck in your throat. But you didn’t want to cry. So, you only smiled more brightly at his words, and you kept his compliment stored safely within you, right beside every sweet gesture of his since that day.
Minho didn’t have the answers to all your questions. He didn’t always know what to say to make it feel right. But he stayed there, he tried his best, to heal parts of you that you never knew could be bruised.
You tried one day, to go through the day normally. You woke up, opened the blinds, and then you made Minho breakfast. You ate lunch with Mina, making some jokes here and there. And when you saw Chan in the line of the coffee shop, you went up to him to talk.
And then you got home and showered, put on makeup, and waited for Minho to come to you. As soon as he opened the door, you were on him, hands busy unbuttoning his shirt, your lips pressed wildly on top of his. You missed him, missed the way he made you forget as he touched you, everywhere. As he showed you how much he loved you.
"I want you, please," you whispered, your lips grazing the shell of his ear, your hands roaming across his chest. Your tone was begging and Minho could feel the urgency in it, so he nodded, he could never say no to you. He watched as you guided him to the couch, as you straddled his lap. You kissed his neck and he tilted it back to give you more of an opening. His hands were on your thighs, cautious. Your lips on him felt heavenly but he couldn’t allow himself to get lost in the pleasure, he had to keep an eye on you.
You were urgent, with the way you sucked the tender skin above his collarbones, how you grinded your hips into his. As if you were on borrowed time and you had to make him reach his high as fast as possible.
"Tell me you’re mine," you muttered, between the kisses you imprinted onto his chest. He could see the lipstick stains you left behind as if you needed to mark him up for everyone to see.
"I'm yours," he says, his hand smoothing the top of your hair. He could sense that something was wrong now, because your eyes were glazed over, and your kisses were getting sloppy, as if your mind was somewhere else. So, he grabs your hips to pause you. "I'm yours, angel. You hear me?"
"Tell me you won’t leave, tell me you’re staying," you take his hands away from your sides, clasping them in a tight hold. You capture his lips in a desperate kiss, and Minho can feel the tears streaming down your face. "Tell me you’ll stay, please, I can’t- can’t lose you too."
"Hey, hey, love. It’s okay, calm down," Minho easily frees his hand from your grasp, bringing you closer to his chest. It’s all it takes for you to start sobbing. "Who said anything about losing me? I’m still here, I won’t ever leave you," he shushes, his voice sounding like honey to your ears. It manages to muffle the sound of your erratic heartbeat.
"I'm so so tired Minho, so tired," you sob, burying your head in his chest. You felt as if there was pain igniting the end of each of your nerves. You couldn't run away from it because the pain became you. "I try to be strong, but I can't. It hurts to wake up and- and to try to go on as if nothing happened. The thoughts in my head don't ever stop and I can't- I can't do this anymore. Please make it stop. Make it stop hurting," you press your palm onto your chest, a useless attempt to soothe the burn within.
 Why did it feel as if in your attempts to put out the fire raging within you, you only ended up fueling it even more?
"I would- I would if I could but I can't do that, I wish I could-" his tone is desperate, raw pain dripping from it.
"What if I'm not strong enough to do it myself?" you cut him off, finally asking the question that's been haunting you. "What if I can't fill this hole within me and it keeps on growing until it swallows me whole?"
Minho tightens his hold on you, rocking you gently in place, trying to lull your heart to sleep, so it'd stop hurting, even for a moment, even for a second. You know it's selfish to expect him to have all the answers, but he's all you have. He's the only voice you can bear listening to.
"I can't promise you that you'll ever fill the void left by her absence. It will keep on bleeding and throbbing, begging for a temporary patch-up. But one day it'll stop, it can't bleed forever. And around that hole flowers will bloom, like a sanctuary, watered by your overflowing love. Because it is your love that's hurting you, not your anger. Do not kill your heart to stop feeling, please. It will do that on its own, it won't hurt more than it can bear."
"It will take time. And if you run out of your time, I'll give you mine too. You aren't alone in this, we are a binary star, right?" he smiles softly and you nod slightly against his chest. "I read that to the invisible eye, they look like a singular star. I hope that to the universe we'd look like one person too, so they'd pass some of your pain to me."
✹✹✹
It’s been a few months since your mother died. You didn’t like the term passing away, because it entails that it was gentle, in passing, as if you were expecting it. But her death was sudden and it made your entire world flip upside down.
"Would you like to talk to her?" Minho suggested one night, his knuckles brushing against your cheek softly.
"Will you come with me?" you ask quietly.
"Of course. If you want me to, that is."
"I can try."
Minho drove you to the graveyard the following weekend. It felt weird to see her name etched on the grave, a reminder that this was all real and not a figment of your imagination. 
"I'm not a daughter anymore." You speak after a while, tone coated in sadness, and acceptance. "But I think I’ve never truly been one, since you were never a mother to me."
"Is it weird, that I miss you? I don't even know what I miss exactly since you were never there. But I miss you. I miss having a mother. And I'm sorry, that you were so angry at the world you couldn't find it in you to love me." You pause, blindly reaching out to hold Minho's hand. He grabs it instantly. "But I won't carry your anger anymore. I don't want to be mad at you, for leaving so suddenly. I want to be happy. I deserve to be happy. And I hope that you are too, wherever you are now."
You turn around, a small smile gracing your lips, and Minho wastes no time in wrapping you in his arms, your cheek resting against his shoulder. He's proud of you, the emotion shines clear as day in his eyes. 
"I wanna take you somewhere," he tells you and you nod, wrapping your arm securely around his waist.
The drive is short and you recognize the place fairly easily. It's the hill you told him about a long time ago, the one that held your happiest memory with your mother.
You both sit on the bench, your head finding solace on his shoulder. The view unfolding in front of you is still as breathtaking, and with each passing moment, the tightness in your chest seems to ease. Memories of your mother and this serene spot intertwine like delicate vines, bringing you a bittersweet sense of comfort. Because mourning someone isn't straightforward, not when humans are this complex, never strictly good or bad.
"Cold?" Minho asks and you shake your head no. "You're a human heater."
"Only near you," he smirks and you giggle slightly.
"I remember your hands used to be so cold."
"So, I could find an excuse to hold yours."
"Are you flirting with me?" you chuckle and he nods, a proud smile on his face. "Is it working?"
"I haven't run away yet, so I suppose it is." There is a newfound lightness in your voice, one you’ve been achingly missing for the past months.
"Come here," he taps his lap with his hands and you promptly lay your head on it.
"Look at the sky," he instructs and you do as he says, squinting your eyes. "What am I supposed to see?" you giggle, but then you feel it, the faintest snowflake falling on your nose tip.
"Go away, I don't want to watch the first snow with you," you tilt your head towards Minho, who's watching you, a soft smile on his face.
You giggle at the distant memory, when you both left Limbo, two years ago. The first time Minho rewrote your memories.
"As if I could ever love you, that'd just be signing a death warrant," you repeat your words from that night, a knowing smile on your face.
"How's that death warrant going?"
"Horrible, so so horrible," you say as you intertwine his hand with yours, squeezing it lightly.
"Mm. I suppose we can't be the exception to the superstition."
"How unfortunate," you smile as he leans down to press a kiss on your forehead, before looking back at the sky again.
He looks perfect from your view. You can clearly see the mole on his nose, the pucker of his rosy lips, and his long eyelashes framing his eyes. You are overcome by a feeling of love for the man beside you, and you stand up from your place to pull him in for a deep kiss.
"What was that for?" he smiles once you lean away, his fingers gently grazing your lips.
"Thank you, for today and for every day since I've met you."
"Of course, my love. You took a big step today, what color are you feeling right now?"
"Whatever color loving you is."
✹✹✹
Hills covered in verdant hues, rows of flowers bursting with vibrant colors, stretching before your eyes. The birds are chirping somewhere near, intermingling with the faint melody of the wind brushing against your skin.
"Here," Minho comes from behind, placing his knit jacket on top of your shoulders. Its warmth seeps through you, and you lean your back against his chest, melting into his embrace. His arms encircle your chest, resting comfortably on top of your heart as if guarding it from harm.
You feel your breathing slow down as you both look out the window. You are somewhere far from the city and its buzzing lights, a small white cottage surrounded by nature, where only you and Minho exist.
Minho nuzzles his chin on your shoulder, placing a chaste kiss under your ear. A light giggle escapes your mouth, as goosebumps rise upon your skin. Your body still reacts as sweetly to Minho, proofs of his love imprinted all over you. His touch is familiar to you but still as soothing, never losing its effect on you. You believe it never will, even when you're both withering down; his touch will still be the only thing making you bloom.
"This is nice," he whispers, sighing softly and you nod against him, raising your hand to settle on top of his. His fingers instinctively find your wedding ring, playing with it as they've done for the past two years.
"It's always nice with you," you say and he smiles softly, squeezing your hand lightly. You remember how it felt when he held it for the first time. How he hasn't let go since. It was only ever his to hold.
"We did well, don't you think? For our first time being alive."
His words make a gentle warmth stir within you. It is your first life, and you're lucky enough to spend it with him.
"We did," you turn around, to find him already looking down at your figure, a fond smile on his face. "To think we probably wouldn't be together if it wasn't for our law classes."
"No," he shakes his head, hands gently cupping your cheeks. "I would've found you. On a random evening when you'd stumble onto Limbo. In the supermarket where you'd buy your cherry shampoo. In the park you used to play in as a kid. I would've found you."
You've once read that when humans are about to pass away, a film of their happiest memories plays in front of their eyes. You know that many years down the road when you're on the brink of going away, you'll remember this moment clearly in your head. You'll remember the cicadas chirping far away, and the zesty smell of the lemon muffins you made earlier today. You'll remember the cold breeze ruffling your hair, and Minho’s warm hands on you. And you'll sigh contently, from having lived a life filled with love.
"My soul is dipped in yours. It will always find you too."
1K notes · View notes
leclercsainzz · 10 months
Note
hey hun!
could you write a smau with actress!reader x charles where charles is literally whipped for his gf and maybe reader is in the new barbie movie and he can’t stop talking about how proud he is and stuff like that and the fans and other drivers make fun of how whipped he is
thx xx 🩷
INTO YOU
PAIRINGS: charles leclerc x actress!reader
TYPE: social media au
yourusername
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liked by charles_leclerc, carlossainz55 and 518,028 others
yourusername: pretty in pink! 🩷
view 7,929 comments
charles_leclerc: you look mesmerizing
charles_leclerc: baby, you are looking gorgeous 😍
charles_leclerc: forever proud of you!
↳ yourusername: i love youuuu <33
user: the way he hype’s her up, i cannot 😭
↳ user: i need me a man like that ASAP
francisca.cgomes: stunning!!
isahernaez: obsessed with you and your beauty 😩
↳ charles_leclerc: same!
carlossainz55: i cannot stop looking at these - charles
↳ carlossainz55: yn, come get your man! he keeps refreshing this post every 5 seconds just to comment
↳ sebastianvettel: what is it that teens say nowadays? ah, yes .. he’s WHIPPED!
user: you’re so pretty, I CAN’T 😭
user: how does charles get this beauty all to himself?!??
user: call me charles cause i’m also a simp for you 😌
yourusername
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liked by charles_leclerc, dualipa and 540,619 others
yourusername: this barbie is a certified genius #thebarbiemovie
view 8,510 comments
user: tuRN IT UP, WE’VE BEEN WAITING FOR THIS ONE!! 🔥
charles_leclerc: so proud of you, my love!! ❤️
user: screaming, crying, throwing up .. can’t wait!!
charles_leclerc: the prettiest barbie ever!
↳ yourusername: my biggest fan 😘
dualipa: you’re a real beauty!
user: she truly is barbie and then there’s charles
↳ user: she’s everything, he’s just ken
user: charles is one lucky ass man, i swear 😭
↳ charles_leclerc: that i am:)
↳ user: i hope you know how to fight
lewishamilton: charles sent this to the group chat and DEMANDED we all watch this
↳ user: ooh, to be in this gc
user: i cannot wait to watch this!!
charles_leclerc and yourusername
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liked by yourusername, arthur_leclerc and 683,893 others
charles_leclerc: first of all i want to start of by saying happy 3 year anniversary, chéri!! with all that you’ve accomplished over the years, i can’t help but be immensely proud of you and your hard work .. i’m glad to have you around and blessing my life in ways you’d never imagine … thank you for being my biggest supporter and lightning up my mood every chance you get! i love you will all my heart, baby!! ❤️
tagged: @yourusername
view 8,841 comments
yourusername: omg, you’re making me cry:(
yourusername: thank you, bby! I LOVE YOU SO MUCH ❤️
user: i’m noT crying, you are
carlossainz55: please tell me yn bought that t-shirt for you
↳ charles_leclerc: if it helps you sleep at night then yes
maxverstappen1: that t-shirt, mate 💀 someone’s WHIPPED
lewishamilton: confirmed: charles is yn’s biggest fan
↳ pierregasly: 😭😭 not even yn’s fans are this obsessed
↳ carlossainz55: the BIGGEST simp out there
user: the waY the other drivers are coming for him 😂
user: cRYING OMG 😭
user: the way they’re each other’s biggest supporter 😩
danielricciardo: i was about to comment “cute” until i saw the last picture you posted ….
↳ user: danny, please 💀 let the man live
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yoursername
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liked by charles_leclerc, estebanocon and 548,792 others 
yourusername: european premiere in london for barbie & race week officially completed ✔️❤️
view 6,847 comments
user: the way she went to support him even though she had to attend the premiere later on 😭
↳ user: don’t forget he attended the premiere with her too
↳ user: smh, and i can’t even get a respond
charles_leclerc: forever proud of you!! ❤️
↳ yourusername: back at you;) 😘
user: meanwhile my bf can’t do the bare minimum
user: they’re the reason i believe in love, i swear 😩🤍
danielricciardo: did you tell margot robbie i love her?
↳ yourusername: of course!! (charles sent you a vid)
user: every couple wishes they were them
carlossainz55: meanwhile charles leclerc starstruck by his own girlfriend at the premiere
↳ maxverstappen1: he’s acting as if he doesn’t live with her and sees her 24/7 💀
↳ yourusername: 😭 i can’t with ya’ll
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yourusername and charles_leclerc
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liked by charles_leclerc, lewishamilton and 586,931 others
yourusername: get you someone who looks at you and appreciates you the way he does!! 😚
tagged: @charles_leclerc
view 7,629 comments
charles_leclerc: i’m addicted to you
↳ yourusername: me @ you 😩
charles_leclerc: i can never take my eyes off you, you’re too gorgeous, baby!!
charles_leclerc: you make me blush 🤭
↳ lewishamilton: confirmed: charles is the #1 simp
user: theY’RE MY PARENTS, yA’lL
user: the way he looks at her with such love 😭 i CANNOT
pierregasly: obsessive fan behavior, if you ask me
carlossainz55: i guess this is cute
↳ yourusername: guess???!??
↳ carlossainz55: it’s cute
user: this mf is sooo whipped!!!
↳ user: he’s just like me 💁🏻‍♀️
user: he better know how to fight cause i’m gonna steal his girl
↳ charles_leclerc: for the girl i love, absolutely
↳ user: mY HEART JUST MELTED WTF 😭
user: they say love is dead, but these two proved me wrong
2K notes · View notes
undertheorangetree · 6 months
Text
The Last of the Dragons
Chapter Five- The Agreement
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Summary- Even days have culminated to this moment.
Warnings- MDNI 18+ NSFW. Female Reader. Incest. Pregnancy (we all knew this was coming). Treason. Mention of murder/poisoning. OOC Aemond cuz he’s experiencing joy. Titty sucking. Soft smut.
Author’s Note- and that’s that on that! I genuinely cannot believe how well received this was, I honestly thought I was gonna be writing this entirely for me and didn’t think people would respond to it the way they did. I’m so so glad you all loved it and hopefully that love continues with the final chapter. Full chapter linked below🥰
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Morning lets out a curious sound as she follows the reflection of the compact. Her head tilts, the scratch of her claws echoing through the room as she turns them in before she's pouncing on the sunspot, attempting to trap it underfoot. Baela laughs as she shifts her hand, sending the light further into the room, Morning skittering across the flagstones in order to chase it and pulling a laugh from her as well.
Rhaena does not share in their glee, letting out a heavy sigh as she makes her way across the room. "You're so mean to her, you shouldn't tease."
"We're playing," Baela defends, but Rhaena picks Morning up all the same, the young dragon settling into her arms almost immediately. She curls into the warmth of Rhaena's chest, stretching out long where she is cradled, tail falling limp over her arm.
"You'll be lucky if she doesn't bite you," she laughs, making her way over to Rhaena and running her fingers across the pink scales on Morning’s snout.
The little dragon makes a purring noise, pushing up against her fingers and she can't contain her smile. She had never seen Silverwing as a hatchling, claiming her on Dragonstone soon after her family arrived, but she can't deny how sweet Morning is, more akin to a cat than a dragon. Vermax had never been that way, Arrax kinder but capable of the same prickly nature. Tyraxes and Stormcloud seemed closer to Morning than the latter two were but none seemed sweeter than her. Though sweet as she may be, she is still a dragon, capable of violence at any given moment. Particularly if Baela continued to goad her.
Baela looks at her in mock offense, closing the compact pointedly before making her way toward them. "She would never. Far too sweet for such cruelty, aren't you, my love?"
She puts her face far too close to Morning's and though she braces herself to watch her sister lose a chunk of her nose, Baela pulls away before anything can happen, simply rubbing the tip of her nose against Morning’s. There is a degree of longing in her eyes as she backs away and immediately she knows Baela is missing Moondancer. Their bond had been special and the loss had hit her hard, especially when coupled with all the horror that followed, the chains Aegon forced her into, and she feels her heart break for her sister.
"Perhaps we can go riding soon," she offers, coming up to take hold of Baela's elbow. "Silverwing is big enough for two. We can ride however you'd like."
Baela smiles, the corners tinged with sadness, and brings up her hand to take her own, squeezing once. "I would like that."
"And perhaps Morning will join us as well once she's big enough to saddle," she adds, turning back to Rhaena.
Her second sister grins brightly, a laugh escaping her as Morning scrambles up her arm to lounge across her shoulders like a mink fur. She nearly blends into Rhaena's gown, the two pinks far too similar a colour to be pure coincidence, and Baela reaches out a hand to pull their sister closer.
It is moments like this that she has missed the most, moments where the three of them are alone, where they can act as they did as children. There was a brief period, the two years they spent together on Dragonstone before Baela was sent to Driftmark to ward, where they had days just like this. The three of them, joined together at the hip solely because they were girls of the same age. The same septa, the same maester, together always. On occasion, she had found herself missing Helaena, wishing that the four of them had been given the chance to be girls together, wishing that this familial rivalry did not exist. But the night on Driftmark had sealed that fate behind a metal grate forever and Helaena's marriage to Aegon had confirmed it further.
There was to be no shared girlhood for them. Not in this lifetime.
The door to her chambers opens then, pulling her from her thoughts and revealing their grandsire. He stands in the threshold for a moment to take them in, all three chained together by clasped hands, and smiles widely. It makes her stomach drop. "Are we to spend the morning together then?"
"Unfortunately not," she says, face scrunched in sympathy before turning to her sisters. "Would you both give us a moment alone? Council matter, I'm afraid."
"Of course, lovely," Baela assures her. Though there is a clear suspicion there, she still presses a kiss to her cheek all the same.
Rhaena is nodding as well, raising Morning in her arms. "We should find something for this beast to eat before she attempts to devour a few ravens in the rookery."
They say their goodbyes, each pressing a kiss to Corlys's cheek, and she feels her heart clench the moment the door closes behind them, leaving her alone with their grandsire. Corlys looks over at her and smiles, enough to make her guilt feel all consuming before she gestures to her dining table. He takes a seat while she begins rifling through her letter chest, searching for the right seal before pulling it out and joining him at the table.
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Read the rest here :)
Taglist- @ammo23 @bellstwd @kckt88 @aemondsbabygirl @shygardengalaxy @duds31 @at-a-rax-ia @ladymarg0t @queenofshinigamis @drakar-i @cl-0-vr @castellomargot @moonlightfoxx @ladybug0095 @marihoneywk @the-common-cowgirl @darylandbethfanforever9 @bunny24sstuff @helaenaluvr @toodlesxcuddles @eternally-passionate @herfantasyworldd @ashovertheriver @hypocritic-trash-baby @heavenly1927 @bunbunbl0gs @divxnee @seabasscevans @madislayyy @jessssica1234 @humanpurposes @strangersunghoon
510 notes · View notes
pawnshopbleus · 6 months
Text
Red-eye
Pilot!Abby Anderson x Flight Attendant!Fem!Reader
Contains - light homophobia, some bad words, angst, hurt, comfort, threats, Abby being a good wife, not beta read
Summary - After a horrible encounter with a passenger, Abby helps you feel better.
Authors note - beware, this is my first time writing in months.
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Being a flight attendant wasn’t a part of your original plan after college, but it provided you with a lot of amazing opportunities. You got to travel the world, meet new people, hear different languages, and experience rich cultures, and you got paid for it. Being a flight attendant is also how you met your wife of three years, Abby Anderson, who was currently navigating the aircraft. You loved your job, but sometimes passengers could be difficult.
Like the man that you were currently helping. First-class passengers tend to be rich and snobby assholes, but this man was on another level. After one too many complimentary glasses of red wine, he began inquiring about the wedding ring on your finger. Once you mentioned the fact that you had a wife he demanded to be served by a different flight attendant. You would have happily complied with his requests if it wasn’t for his homophobic rhetoric.
“Sir, I’m going to have to ask you to stop,” you said. Your tone was affirmative, but a bit shaky. This wasn’t the first time someone had been openly homophobic towards you, but you always had Abby by your side. Now, she was in the cockpit doing her pilot duties so you had to deal with this on your own.
“I’m not listening to some…” You tried your hardest to drown out the sound of him calling you a slur, but your attempt failed.
There was a collective gasp from the people in first class. They had abandoned all hopes of sleep once the drunken man started his monologue. Even though there were passengers listening, no one dared to say anything.
With teary eyes, you left the scene, finding solace in the bathroom. You looked at yourself in the mirror. Your makeup was ruined, your eyes were red from crying, and your cheeks were stained with tears. It took you a long time to come to terms with your sexuality. You were proud to be a lesbian, but people like that man made you regret ever coming out of the closet.
There was a knock at the bathroom door. “I’ll be out in a minute,” you sighed. You grabbed a tissue from the roll and dabbed it on your cheeks, trying your best to look as presentable as possible.
“Honey, it’s me.” It was Abby’s sweet voice on the other side of the door. Hearing her voice puts you at ease.
“Can I come in?” Abby asked.
You opened the door immediately. Nosy passengers watched the scene with confusion. The pilot of the plane going into the bathroom with a flight attendant was not something one saw every day, but you didn’t care. You closed the door behind Abby and sighed into her embrace.
The bathroom was small and compact, causing you to be pressed so close to Abby. She wrapped her arms around you and kissed your forehead. She began to pet your head as you began to break down in her embrace.
“I heard what happened,” Abby said without further need to elaborate. Of course, she knew already. Word travels fast in a metal tube in the sky. “Want me to punch him?”
You chuckle, “No, I wouldn’t want you to lose your job. We have a mortgage to pay.”
You can feel Abby’s wedding ring lightly scrape against your scalp, causing shivers to crawl down your spine.
“I wish I could defend myself, but I didn’t know what to say. He called me a-a,” you couldn’t even utter the wretched word that the man dared to call you.
Abby placed her index finger on your lips, shushing you. “It’s okay,” she said, “no one will ever call you that ever again. I’ll make sure of it.” You place your hand on Abby’s cheek and she jumps a little bit, her warm skin is not prepared for your cold hand. You look into her eyes and your heart tugs a little bit. You cannot believe that you were lucky enough to find the perfect woman. Abby was everything you looked for in a partner. She was kind, caring, and supportive. Not to mention she was the prettiest woman on earth.
Abby’s hands slide down to the place just above your ass. “Are you going to keep staring into my eyes or are you going to kiss me?” she huffs.
You smirk and give the woman what she wants. Your lips come in contact with hers, kissing her with fervor. Your lips move in rhythm with hers. Your hands that were once on Abby’s cheeks found themselves on her strong biceps. Abby’s hands began to slide down lower when there was a knock at the door. Abby squeezed your hips and let out a sigh of frustration.
“Seat one b has requested a Pinot Noir and you’re the only one who can reach the bottle,” Dina, a fellow flight attendant said from the other side of the door.
You hide your face in Abby’s chest and say, “I’ll be out in a minute.” Both you and Abby check yourselves in the mirror, making sure that the two of you look presentable.
“Feeling better?” Abby inquired, placing a hand on your shoulder and looking into your eyes.
You nod your head and let out a breath, preparing yourself to go back out. You open the door and you're met with a handful of eyes staring at you as you and Abby exit the bathroom. You smile at the curious people and continue your flight attendant duties.
Abby, on the other hand, walks all the way to first class, finds the man who was tormenting you and whispers into his ear. “If I hear you say another fucking thing about my wife I’ll cut your dick off and make you eat it.” She then pats him on the back and returns to the cockpit, leaving the homophobic man speechless.
429 notes · View notes
thepersonnamedsam · 8 months
Text
where’d all the time go? - dr3
pairing: daniel ricciardo x fem!reader
summary: a little look back in time and into the future
face claim: heidi berger
warnings: none
note: hiya, i’m back (at least for now)! this was inspired by the song where’d all the time go by dr. dog :)
masterlist / taglist
yninsta
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liked by danielricciardo, user and 38‘738 others
yninsta where’d all the time go?
view all 19‘627 comments
danielricciardo my beautiful baby
danielricciardo look at you, you were always cute
danielricciardo i love you so much
user1 he’s so whipped
user2 we love a whipped man
user3 give him some cream so he can be whipped cream
user4 wow, y/n, you are so pretty
yninsta thank u so much
user5 danny is a lucky man
danielricciardo indeed i am
yninsta aww baby
danielricciardo i am the luckiest with you
danielricciardo
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liked by yninsta, sebastianvettel and 927‘188 others
danielricciardo where’d all the time go? bc she’s my wife now rather than my racing partner…
view all 672‘910 comments
user6 omg danny u can’t drop that bomb rn!!!!!!
user6 i was not prepared to go to heaven today
user7 wtf happened?
user8 when did that happens?!;!;!:
user9 in june apparently
yninsta i am so lucky to call u my husband <3
danielricciardo mrs. ricciardo has a nice ring to it
yninsta yea and u gave me a pretty ring
sebastianvettel congrats you two, glad to have been invited!
user10 seb was invited!:‘bejdkdbfjd
user11 he better have been
maxverstappen1 my dream just vanished :(
maxverstappen1 i will never be mrs. ricciardo :(
user12 hahahaha max is too funny
yninsta soz max, can i make it up to u?
maxverstappen1 divorce him?
danielricciardo never.
user12 i cannot believe it, my fav boy got married
user13 yea and we didn’t even know about the engagement
user14 doesn’t matter, they won’t last anyways
user15 anyway(s) - there is no plural of anyway. if u hate do it at least grammatically correct
user16 slay. (and they will last forever)
charles_leclerc congratulations!!! so happy for you
daniel3.jpg
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liked by pierregasly, yninsta and 87‘199 others
daniel3.jpg the polaroid camera latifi gifted me finally came to good use, thanks mate
view all 11‘927 comments
nicholaslatifi cheers mate
user17 i just know they had the most perfect wedding
user18 i want a man to love me like danny loves y/n… sigh
user19 he there sweetheart :)
user18 ew.
yninsta it was perfect
landonorris had the most perfect time, thank you, you muppets
yninsta we love u lando
danielricciardo ig we do, if wifey does…
yninsta be nice
landonorris yea, be nice and listen to your wife
yninsta and danielricciardo
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liked by charles_leclerc, landonorris and 672‘179 others
yninsta we had the most beautiful time, thank you to you all! lots of love
comments disabled
yninsta
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liked by danielricciardo, user20 and 63‘826 others
yninsta where’d all the time go pt. 2
view all 46‘199 comments
user21 SHE GOT PREGNANT? TWICE? WHEN?
user22 that’s why she didn’t show up to the races, omg, she had whole kids!
user23 i hope they were whole…
user24 oop-
user25 he looks so happy
user26 so much better than at mclaren
user25 right?
landonorris when will i get uncle duties again?
yninsta soon
danielricciardo no you will not, they were so hyper last time you had them, idk what you did with them
landonorris they had pavlova, isn’t that a specialty of australia?
user27 it’s kiwi!!!!
landonorris doesn’t matter
f1
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liked by danielricciardo, yninsta and 1‘839‘636 others
f1 little throwback to @danielricciardo 's bachelor party with the whole grid
view all 738‘829 comments
user28 aww how sweet was that
user29 it’s really the whole grid :(
user30 even seb
user31 i think it was sebs last race even
user32 but their children seem at least 4 years old?!;
user33 maybe that’s why they married?
danielricciardo i look so bad :/
user34 nO TAKE THAT BACK
user35 look how happy they all are!
yninsta thank god they don’t have my bachelorette party pics…
f1 🤷🏻‍♀️
yninsta if u dare! i will sue u
°°°
taglist: @ironmaiden1313 , @topguncultleader , @biglittlesecret, @gulabjamooon , @lovelyy-moonlight , @peachyplumsss , @mistrose23 , @copper-boom , @love4lando , @champomiel , @serenityleah , @iloveyou3000morgan , @angelwithoutmywings , @elleeeee21 , @youkissedareaderinthedark , @mikauraur , @thybulleric , @lpab , @fdl305 , @mellowarcadefun , @teti-menchon0604 , @vildetry06 , @bibissparkles , @aurora-maria , @lunnnix , @sya-skies , @Buckywifeyy , @dakotali , @rechtrecht , @noncannonships , @1eclerc16 , @pitlanebabe , @sopheeg , @whatthefuckerr , @avengersheart , @thatsadsmallchild , @peachiicherries , @idkiwantchocolatee , @callsign-scully , @mehrmonga , @badbatch-simp24 , @lissyontour , @din0nugs , @elliegrey2803 , @gay-for-victoria-de-angelis
598 notes · View notes
daydreamingyuta · 8 months
Text
Mornings | Jaehyun
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summary: fluff, a collection of mornings with Jaehyun over the years as you spend your lives together. word count: 1,127
Saturday August 10, 2019 [7:18 am]
You woke up, having hardly gotten any sleep, but energized as ever. Today you were meeting up with your boyfriend, Jaehyun. You two had just made everything official and your heart was so happy.
You go into the bathroom to do your skincare, and when you walk back into your room, you notice a good morning text from him.
Jaehyun: "Good morning baby! Can't wait to see you today <3"
A single text shouldn't make you this filled with joy, but it's from Jaehyun, so of course it does.
Y/n: "I can't wait either! Do you think we could also get some ice cream afterwards?"
Jaehyun: "We'll do anything you want angel"
You flop back onto your unmade bed, your thoughts filled with how lucky you feel to be Jaehyun's girl. You start to get giggly because you know that, by the end of the date he's going to cup your face into his hands and tell you how pretty he thinks you are, like he always does.
Sunday November 10th, 2019 [1:17 am]
You were supposed to be at home, already asleep in bed by now, but you and Jaehyun didn't want to leave each other. Each of you making excuses to prolong your date. Now it's one in the morning and you're on a walk, the street lit up by the moonlight. Each step you take, now unconsciously synced with his. Jaehyun hasn't let go of your hand once, and you wish that he never would. While you were enjoying your stroll, his mind was racing, thinking of how to tell you. He knew in his heart that you felt the same way about him, so he decided it would be best to just tell you outright. "Y/n?" He says, with a hint of nervousness in his voice.
You both stop and turn to face each other, knowing from the tone in his voice that he needs to tell you something important. "I love you." Words cannot describe how your heart feels in this moment. The way he's looking at you, like you're the most precious person in the world to him, was making you melt. "You love me?" You say with a teasing smile, tilting your head slightly. "So much y/n. I can hardly take it." He says, breathlessly. You stand up on your tippy toes and give him the biggest kiss you've ever given him. "I love you too, Jaehyun."
Sunday December 15th, 2019 [9:12 am]
The slight movement of Jaehyun cuddling more into you was the reason you had woken up. You move to get into a more comfortable position, causing Jaehyun to wrap his arm tighter around you.  “I’m sorry baby, did I wake you up?” Jaehyun says with his morning voice that you couldn’t get enough of.  “Hm, it’s okay. I love cuddling with you in the mornings.” Jaehyun nuzzles his head into your neck, “Me too, baby.” You fall back asleep, thinking about how excited you were that it’s almost your six month anniversary together. You can’t believe that you’ve been together for that long, the time feeling like it was going by so fast. 
Friday April 16, 2021 [7:32 am]
You knew something was up. You weren't sure what, but Jaehyun and all your friends and family had been acting strange for the past month. Like they all knew something you didn't.
You had just gotten a promotion at work, so maybe they all came together to plan a surprise party for you. But that's not really something you would enjoy and they all know that, so you really had no clue what it could be.
Today, Jaehyun was taking you out on a fancy dinner date, so whatever was going on definitely wasn't happening today.
"Good morning, angel." Jaehyun says, once he sees that you're awake. He's carrying a suit that he must have just picked up from the dry cleaners.
"Did you buy a brand new suit for our dinner?" You ask, confused.
"Yeah." He shrugs, as if getting a new suit was no big deal. As if he didn't have to spend days finding the right one for the special occasion. As if he didn't get the suit tailored to fit him exactly the way he knows you like.
You had more questions, but Jaehyun distracted you from them all by climbing into bed with you and giving you a million little kisses. You were in heaven whenever he did this.
Little did you know, that in only a couple of hours he was going to be down on one knee, in the park that you two visited during your first date, asking you to make him the happiest man on earth.
Monday May 16, 2022 [10:35 am]
You woke up with the waves coming from right outside your hotel window. You feel around the bed and notice that Jaehyun must have already gotten up. You hear a sound in the bathroom and know that he just got finished with his morning shower.  He comes out of the bathroom with a white robe on, his hair wet and messy, but you don’t think you’ve ever seen anyone as handsome in your life.  “Can you believe we got married two days ago, Jae?” You ask, unapologetically staring him down.  “No, I can't." He says, jumping back under the covers with you. "Did my beautiful wife have a good night's sleep?” You rest your chin on his now bear chest. “Yes, I did.” He strokes your hair as he looks down at you. “Should we sleep in on the first day of our honeymoon?” You nod your head yes, adamantly. You come up to press a kiss onto his lips and he cups your face into his hands and kisses you back. He pulls away, but just for a moment to ask you a question. “Do you know how beautiful you are y/n?”
Monday May 8th, 2028 [7:23 am]
“Mommy!” You hear as your oldest hops onto your bed, waking you up. “Mommy, happy mothers day!” She presses kisses all over you, making sure that you're fully awake. “Thank you sweetheart.” You say, sitting up so you can give her a hug and another kiss. She giggles in your arms and gets close to your ear like she has a secret to tell you.
"We made you something." She whispers.
Soon after, Jaehyun walks through the door, balancing your youngest in one arm and a stack of pancakes in the other.
“Happy mothers day, angel.” Jaehyun tells you as he sits the pancakes down on the bed and leans over to give you a sweet kiss.
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starsainzjr · 2 months
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Pairing: Lewis Hamilton x Southeast Asian!reader Faceclaim: Kelly Marie Tran Requested: Yes No
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yourusername Colorado
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Liked by lewishamilton, georgerussell63, carmenmundt and 40,862 others
yourusername Unbelievable time in Colorado with the love of my life. Oh, and Lewis was there too
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roscoelovescoco Yous the loves of my lifes toos!
lewishamilton I see how it is, you're just here for the Roscoe access
georgerussell63 I mean, can you really blame her? yourusername You're the real love of my life, Lew. Just don't tell Roscoe lewishamilton We can bribe him with treats
carmenmundt That looks like it was the best camping trip ever
yourusername Can confirm
lewismylove Wake up babes, Lewis and Roscoe content just dropped
l.h.eight Dude what the hell I just woke up. Let a girl be conscious before you attack her with Lewis and Roscoe content
lewishamilton
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Liked by yourusername, carmenmundt, georgerussell63 and 704,936 others
lewishamilton Favorite place with my favorite girl. We'll be back and ready to race next weekend
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yourusername Favorite place with my favorite boy 🥰
lewishamilton Best way to spend the last few weeks of peace
georgerussell63 @/yourusername Where did you find the horse????
yourusername I'll never reveal my tricks georgerussell63 Alright then keep your secrets yourusername 🧙🏻‍♂️
l.h.eight Seriously the most perfect couple on the grid
lewismylove I love it when he goes full fanboy with her
hamil10 He really is her biggest fan and it's absolutely adorable
yourusername Brackley, England
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Liked by lewishamilton, carmenmundt, mercedesamgf1 and 40,822 others
yourusername Team dinner!
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lewishamilton Had a perfect date for a perfect evening
yourusername Three years in and you still manage to make me blush lewishamilton That's the goal, love yourusername ☺️
carmenmundt Such a memorable night! We'll miss you both next year!
yourusername Love you to bits Carmen!
l.h.eight I cannot believe this is the last time we'll get team dinner content from YN 😭
hamil10 I KNOW it really is the end times
lewismylove They are literally my comfort couple. The middle picture? They're so damn cute
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yourusername Bahrain
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Liked by lewishamilton, carmenmundt, mercedesamgf1 and 41,039 others
yourusername Almost time for lights out! Let's go @/lewishamilton!
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lewishamilton My biggest cheerleader. I love you my darling
yourusername I love you too, handsome. Go knock 'em dead
roscoelovescoco Mys pawrents ares the bests
yourusername Love you too, Roscoe
mercedesamgf1 Lucky charm is here! Let's get it done this weekend!
lewismylove Stop he is actually so adorable. Like are you kidding? If that's what I saw picking me up from the airport I would never ask for anything again
hamil10 Real. So so real bestie
l.h.eight I'm sobbing I love them so much
lewismylove Seeing them in red next year is going to be so weird
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lewishamilton
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Liked by yourusername, roscoelovescoco, carmenmundt and 399,171 others
lewishamilton Amazing past few days with my two favorite people on the planet. Nice to rest, but it's back to work this week
View all 40,014 comments
yourusername I'm so honored to be listed with Roscoe
lewishamilton You have top spot, don't tell him I said that
yourusername 🤐
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All photos from Pinterest, Instagram, or Google Images
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81folklore · 3 months
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heaven - OP81 - part 4
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pairings: oscar piastri x private!fem!reader (fc: gracie abrams)
summary: oscars winter break as seen through social media
type: social media au (smau)
authors note: THEYRE BACK BABYYY!! ive missed these two so much so here 🤲 i spent a while trying to decide what i wanted to happen with these two (already have some plans) but i needed to post and my current wip is so frustrating 😕
authors note 2: its official theyre my favorites, i had sooooo much fun writing this, just two babies in love!!!! requests are always open and feel free to come chat!! (also i wrote this at 6am so sorry if there are any typos🫶)
heaven masterlist masterlist
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yourusername
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liked by oscarpiastri, logansargeant and 9,289 others
always dressing up 🖤
📸 oscarpiastri
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yourfriend3 actually insane
yourfriend7 you are so lovely
oscarpiastri how are you even real
yourusername babyyyy☹️
oscarpiastri 😍😍
yourusername 🤩🤩
user5 ur outfits are always unreal
landonorris is thought u were staying in tonight??
yourusername we are..i dressed up for fun😁
user7 THE WOMAN THAT YOU ARE
user18 SKWKZIWJJS
user93 my jaw DROPPED
yourfriend2 my favorite outfit of yours!!
user54 biggest question is if we’ll get winter break content😕
yourusername
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liked by oscarpiastri, yourfriend1 and 13,279 others
my favorite time of year💫
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oscarpiastri weenie waits for no one
yourusername heyy he likes sleeping in the warm☹️☹️
oscarpiastri still steals my seat😕
user54 oh my god
user3 DID OSCAR TAKE THOSE?!
yourusername yesss🫠
yourfriend6 see you soon!!
user68 the outfits NEVER disappoint
user2 im so ok
user26 THE FOURTH PHOTO??
user63 THE LAST PHOTO??
user5 you are so so pretty
yourusername thank uuuu🫶
oscarpiastri
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liked by aussiegrit, yourusername and 436,742 others
life without racecars☀️
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user54 OH MY GOD
user77 i may never recover
yourusername weenie and back photos oh i won *liked by creator*
landonorris ?!?!!?!
user2 LMAOOOO
user4 i feel ill i cant cope
user32 i need someone to love me the way they love each other
yourusername ☀️☀️
user9 the third photo..the THIRD PHOTO
user44 don’t cry don’t cry don’t cry don’t cry don’t cry don’t cry don’t cry don’t cry don’t cry don’t cry don’t cry don’t cry don’t cry don’t cry don’t cry don’t cry don’t cry don’t cry don’t cry don’t cry don’t cry don’t cry don’t cry don’t cry don’t cry don’t cry
twitter
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yourusername
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liked by oscarpiastri, landonorris and 14,281 others
oscar oscar oscar
i hold so much love for you i often feel like its about to spill out of me, unable to be contained, and when im with you i let it. i let it fill the room and cover you until you really feel how much i love you
every day i wake up thinking about how lucky i am that i get to love you, that i get to live with you. its a blessing and im the luckiest girl in the world
ill never be able to fully explain just what you mean to me, just how much youve impacted and improved my life. everyday i find myself thinking of you and finding bits of you in places i least expect and then i get filled with this happiness that i only experience with you
you are the light of my life oscar piastri and i will love you in every universe, i promise
tagged oscarpiastri
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oscarpiastri i love you more than words can describe, you have made me the happiest man alive
oscarpiastri i am in awe of you every single day and i cannot believe i get to spend them with you
yourusername 🩷🩷
op81priv
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liked by yourusername, ln4priv and 37 others
the love i feel for you is infinite and is strong enough to keep me alive forever
you keep my heart filled with a love that ive never felt before and i will only ever feel for you
you’re my forever person, my bestfriend and i will love you until i cant love any more
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yourusername oh oscar i love you so much
yourusername forever sounds perfect to me
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yourusername added to their story
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