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#it does suit my style though
todayisafridaynight · 8 months
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Today at trivia: learned a baby hedgehog is called a hoglet. You've many hedgehog themed shenanigans here and I thought you'd like to know if you didn't already 💕
YEAAAHHHH LIL HOGLETS !!!!!! an UPMOST important fact to know...
#snap chats#class ended early since we were just introducing ourselves but i still managed to have the most annoying night oh my god#first my professor accidentally shook my bad hand and i didnt tell him it was A Bad Hand#people usually tell me i have a really good handshake but now my handshake look AWFUL like im sorry prof my hand has cysts in it#awful first impression and those are big to me..#it gets worse though cause i went to get eggs and detergent and my card declined For Some Reason???#the only strange thing i did lately was get gas LMAO I DONT ??? UNDERSTAND.#i mean i got my shit with another card i have but i didnt get the receipt the first time since i thought it was in the bag#but no it gets worse cause i cant even get into my dorm building cause for some reason my id card just. does not open that door#IT OPENS MY DORM ROOM BUT NOT THE BUILDING DOOR and then i couldnt find the housing department room#so i have to email them tonight. to fix my stupid card ig.#but no so i ran back out to ask the clerk if he still had my receipt and He Didnt. Fair Nuff so he just gave me a rough estimate#which is SOOO fun so heres to hoping i didnt underpay my credit card. overpay Ill Live itll prob just be a few cents more#AND THEN I HAD TO DO THE AWKWARD THING WHERE I SIGNAL TO THE DESK CLERK TO LET ME IN. AGAIN#but yeah... AND THEN I HAVE CLASS AT 8AM on god i might just skip since i want to drop the class anyway#but thats also MAD disrespectful.. ill just hope class ends early idk..#so yeah. terrible night. it WILL get worse.#maybe ill make eggs.... not like i can buy food. i mean i CAN but ugh i hate doing credit card payment that shit so extra#and to top it off as i was leaving the store Again some mate was liek 'excuse me sir- oh im sorry excuse me ma'am'#MY GUY I AM WEARING A SUIT AND A FACE MASK AND I HAVE SHORT HAIR STYLED LIKE A DEBATE CLUB MEMBER#YOU WERE RIGHT THE FIRST TIME I PROMISE LMAO kms. fr.#ok im done ranting SORRY. thank you for the reminder baby hedgehogs got cute as hell names..#im gonna try to think of old people to feel better...
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nyalectro · 9 months
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Saw people on twitter saying they think electro’s ps4 design is ugly i got FURIOUS
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radioconstructed · 1 year
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⌖ Don't ever question my VOCAL RANGE! HAHA! This was FUN!
[ DJ Cummerbund - Shaxicula (Loveshack x Toxic x Dragula) ]
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flyagaric-art · 24 days
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Genuine question, how do y’all figure out how you want to render your art? I’m trying to figure out but I really don’t know where to start with it.
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redsray · 2 months
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Batkids playing any kind of board game but make it extra competitive because whoever wins gets to choose what Bruce wears for the next gala.
Bruce, in a sparkly top and skinny jeans:
Reporter: Ah, who chose your outfit tonight, Brucie?
Bruce: That'd be my eldest, dear!
Dick, behind him, full into the gala persona: Flattering, isn't it? He should wear it more often, don't you think, sweetheart?
Reporter, flushed: Oh, absolutely.
Bruce (to Dick): Get a new fashion style. Please.
Dick: Never.
Reporter: Who would be responsible for your wardrobe tonight, Brucie? It's certainly a statement.
Bruce, head to toe in a pink suit and Hello Kitty accessories: Gorgeous, isn't it? All the credit will have to be given to Jason, though, I'm afraid.
Reporter: Your second son, if I'm not mistaken?
Bruce: The very one.
Jason from across the gala hall, trying to not cough up his drink with laughter:
Tim, next to him: He's pulling it off, though. Little spins and everything.
Jason: Still ridiculous. That's Batman right there, Timbo.
Tim, snickering: The Dark Knight, huh?
Bruce, dressed in a collared white shirt, sweater and skirt, looking like he just came out of a light academia novel:
Reporter: Wow, Brucie. Who do we thank for that wonderful outfit choice?
Bruce: Ah, flattering, is it not? Tim's choices when it comes to fashion are wonderful, if not a bit simple.
Tim, nodding from behind him: Only the finest satin skirts. Charming, right?
Tim, to Bruce: Don't call my style simple, Mr. all I wear is black.
[Jason handing Dick $10 in the background because Bruce does, in fact, pull off a skirt.]
Reporter: Oh lord, what a gown! Who influenced your fashion choice tonight, Brucie?
Bruce, in a long green and black gown with gold accessories, nothing short of royal-looking: I fear only one person I know could choose an outfit as gorgeous as this one.
Damian, proudly next to him, in a smaller, matching gown: Only the most exquisite. You lot in this flimsy country cannot compare.
Bruce: Yes, Damian has a fine taste in fashion. He gets it from his mother.
Damian, quieter: Well certainly not from you.
Bruce, dressed in an elegant white dress shirt, long black pants and a corset with red accessories, a fan in his right hand:
Reporter: What an entrance! Anyone to give credit to for the wardrobe, Brucie?
Bruce: That'd be my daughter, she certainly shines with her choice of clothing.
Cass, grinning with a matching fan: Very pretty.
Bruce: Thank you, Cass.
Reporter: Woah, that's certainly new. Any reason for this choice of clothes, Brucie, dear?
Bruce, in a snapback cap, loose jeans and a band t-shirt, complete with rings and a chain around his neck: Well, all of my children are creative, but... Duke might just take the cake for this one, love.
Duke, losing his absolute shit next to Jason, Dick and Tim: You look great, B.
Steph doesn't usually go to galas, but she participates in the game nevertheless. If she wins, god help Bruce, because it's a gamble with her. He either ends up wearing a gorgeous outfit with eccentric and trend-setting accessories or literal checkered pyjamas. Worst yet, he has to say he picked it himself, since he can't directly blame Steph.
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mirohlayo · 9 days
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Could you do something about the drivers' new girlfriend who is obsessed with the reader? Who is the driver's ex-girlfriend? and eventually the driver's and reader end up together again. (a little inspired by Obsessed by Olivia Rodrigo
Hello !! I really struggle to choose between the drivers but I ended up choosing Lando (it's no longer surprising). Hope this suits your request, enjoy ! ᥫ᭡
OBSESSED
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( when your ex' new girlfriend become obsessed with you, you know you have win everything. )
warning : angst, fluff, some toxic behavior, like two innuendos
note : sorry to all the Maddie it's just the first name that came up on my mind 🫰
word count : 1.9k
You're sure this whole thing has been going on for a few weeks now. And you don't know when it's going to end. It's been several weeks since your relationship with your ex-boyfriend Lando ended. And he's had a new girlfriend for several weeks now.
Sitting in front of a table on a terrace, near the Mclaren building in the paddock, you can't help but stare at your ex and the brunette girl in his arms, walking hand in hand along the path. Her long hair styled in a magnificent bun, her model figure, her confident walk.
You can't help but imagine yourself in his place. Because after all, a few weeks ago, it was you in this place. It was you who walked alongside Lando, who came to support him on all his races, who was proudly in love with him. And his new girlfriend simply replaced you. Because she is also the reason for your breakup.
Everything was perfect in your relationship. You were madly in love with each other and incredibly happy. He gave you the world and in return you gave him everything he couldn't have dreamed of. You were simply soulmates, made for each other. Until this brunette comes and ruins everything.
You knew she was friends with Lando. However, it was absolutely no problem for you. She's not the first girl he's had as friends and you can't deny the fact that you have a few guy friends as well. You trusted each other with your eyes closed so there was nothing to worry about her.
But when she started to interfere in your life, your personal relationship, when she started to get closer to Lando at a maddening speed and when she stole his precious time so that you remained the one who finally spent less time with him, you knew there was a big problem.
And that this problem is indeed her.
It's as if the roles had been reversed, and in the end you gradually became a simple friend, while she in turn became his new girlfriend. You couldn't take it anymore, even though Lando tried to reassure you about her and her actions.
He himself didn't want her.
But it was so suffocating that you finally put an end to it. You knew that at the time of your separation, when you said those words to him that broke his heart into a million pieces, you still had powerful feelings for each other, but love isn't everything.
And here you are now in this situation. You being his ex, staring at him and his new girlfriend when you just came to support the Mclaren driver. Lando has publicly announced that you have remained on good terms and are good friends, which is why you sometimes come to the races. But the reality is there: you don't even look at each other once.
Because if Lando does, he knows he won't be able to let you go. And if you do, you won't be able to hold back either.
“Huh, what is she doing here again?” Maddie, the driver's new girlfriend, mocks your presence as her vicious gaze glares at you. "Hmm ?" Lando frowns, curious. He tries to follow Maddie's gaze, and his eyes end up landing on the woman he deep down still hopes will always be his.
“I already told you to forbid her from coming to the races.” She adds. The driver rolls his eyes and sighs, not taking his gaze away from you. It seems that you are strangely attracted to your phone. "I know, but... we're still friends, she has every right to com-" "Friends? You don't even talk to each other, and it's even she who decided to break up with you."
Lando clenches his fist and his jaw. “And because of whom do you think?” He looks at her coldly, while Maddie can feel a deep fury just by looking at his eyes. She was about to retaliate when suddenly Lando fans came to surround you. "Y/N!! I love you, can I take a picture with you?"
You slowly raise your head, surprised to see three young girls smiling pleasantly at you, waiting for a response from you. You finally realize the situation, and you show them your biggest sincere smile. It warms your heart, knowing that despite the hate you received after breaking up, there are still people there to support you.
Of course, they may be fans of your ex, but the fact remains that they are all simply adorable, and you can't help but be grateful to them, because after all these people support the boy that you love so much.
“Thank you so much, sweethearts” You can't help but giggle and even chat a little with these girls. But while you're enjoying this intimate moment, you obviously can't notice Maddie's dark and unhealthy gaze on you. She kills you with her gaze, while jealousy takes over her entire being.
For what ? Why can't she be like you? Why can't she be you? What does Lando like about you? What can she do to be like you? She would lose her mind. She scrutinizes each of your actions. She records each of your actions and gestures in order to copy them with the exact same precision.
It's toxic but she can't help it, for her it's vital and essential. She is obsessed with you, with everything you do, with your whole person. You're her current boyfriend's ex, and she knows how much he's still in love with you, so she's trying any way she can to be like you. She just wants to be better than you. But she can't.
And you know she can't. Just look at the way Lando looks at you, eyes full of love and admiration, as you listen attentively to the fans in front of you. Lando himself knows, no girl will be like you.
-
"No but seriously, she's doing it again!! Is this the how manyth time this week?" Your best friend is almost going to tear her hair out. Maddie's latest Instagram post has the exact same types of photos you posted last week, and her stories are identical to yours. You sigh, running your hands over your face. “Look, maybe she didn’t do it on purpose, it’s probably a coincidence.” You try to convince yourself.
"A coincidence? You still manage to defend your ex's new girlfriend while she does everything to discredit you!" Your best friend looks completely hopeless as she plops down on the couch in your hotel room. “Don’t tell me otherwise, Y/n. She’s wearing the exact same outfit as you in her post.”
“Maybe we just have the same taste in clothes, we don’t know.” Your best friend looks at you with empathy. She gets up from the couch and places her hands on your shoulders, caressing them gently. "Look Y/n, I know you're way too nice to be mad at anyone. But this girl is so obsessed with you, it's super toxic and unhealthy."
You can't deny your friend's words. In recent weeks, she has only copied you and used the same expressions and facial expressions as you. She only hints at you. Why is she so obsessed with you when you don't care about her?
It eats you from the inside. You've been thinking about it lately and it's almost sickening. Your best friend seems to have noticed it too. "I know what you need. I'm going to buy your favorite snacks and we're going to have a relaxing evening together tonight, okay?".
She does not wait for your approval since you already know you have no choice. And without another word, she rushes out of the hotel to go buy your favorite snacks. “What a life…”, you sigh before opening your phone again, coming face to face with Maddie’s latest insta post.
As you were about to open the comment section, you heard voices raised. As if two people were arguing with each other. You remain paralyzed for a moment, before finally continuing what you were starting to do. But as soon as you go back to your phone, the voices continue to shout and be heard louder and louder.
Panic rises within you. Maybe there is a real problem after all? You approach the door of your room to try to hear better, but without being aware of it you end up opening it, opening onto the long empty corridor upstairs.
Listening carefully, you know that the voices are coming from the room directly across from yours. But you also, and unfortunately, recognize Lando's voice. You can recognize it among thousands of voices, and you are sure that the male voice is him.
A higher pitched, more feminine voice mixes with the driver's voice. Without realizing it, you are now standing a few centimeters from their hotel room, facing the door. But you can hear perfectly what they say to each other. Despite their voices muffled by the walls, you manage to make out a few sentences.
“I mean, why are you so obsessed with her?” Lando shouts even louder. He's really fed up. "I'm not obsessed with her Lando!!" "Oh, so why are you trying to copy everything she does? Why do I always see you stalking her social media, location and contacts?" He continues to rise.
This last sentence makes her speechless. “She broke up with you, so I’m looking at her social media to find out why” Lando lets out a mocking laugh. Did he hear correctly? "Because you still haven't understood that it's because of you that she broke up with me? It's all your fault but you continue to play blind!!".
Lando's furious voice brings silence to their hotel room. It seems Maddie has stopped screaming. "I should never have accepted this PR stunt. I would have received hate but at least I could have been with Y/n right now, with the woman I truly love with all my heart and not a girl who is hopelessly obsessed with a woman much better than her.”
Several minutes of silence follow, but the din of your heartbeat seems to echo throughout the hallway. They were arguing about you. The reason for their argument is you. And Lando talked about you. He confessed information you didn't even know. That you didn't know.
He still loves you, and the whole damn new girlfriend thing is really just a PR stunt. So, everything is clear now.
You gradually regain consciousness, but the bedroom door suddenly flies open, Lando stands in front of you looking completely furious. But when his gaze falls on you, his body language shows that he is already relaxing a little more.
“Oh, Y-Y/n…” You lower your head, ashamed that he surprised you like this. He's not sure what to say as an awkward silence settles. “Did you…hear what we said?” You clear your throat, avoiding his gaze. "You were screaming so...yes. I heard everything." “Oh, okay…”
He scratches the back of his neck, embarrassed and very uncomfortable. “Maybe we should talk then” He suddenly offers and you lift your head to nod. "Yes, that would be better. In my hotel room if you want."
You both go back to your room, and Lando sits directly on the couch, while you join him by sitting a little further away, leaving a reasonable distance between you.
“I meant it. I meant every word I said, Y/n.” You nod to encourage him to continue. "Of course I think Maddie is completely obsessed with you and you must have realized that." He plays with his fingers nervously as he lowers his head. "But I also meant the fact that I still love you. So much. I'm still so in love with you that it hurts me to know that I can't wake up next to you anymore. I still want you so bad and I need you in my life. I know that our story doesn't have the right to end now and that it won't end until we're old and in love."
You wipe away a tear that had just formed in the corner of your eye as you take Lando's hands in yours. You can't suppress a small laugh - or rather a sob - as you smile lovingly at him. “Fucking PR stunt, huh?” He smiles shyly, his eyes watering from the tears that threaten to fall down his face.
“Yeah, fucking PR stunt and fucking crazy girl” He answers and you end up laughing softly. Your hands came up to cup his face as you moved closer to him, your hearts almost touching. "I still love you so much Lando. And I need you too. I'm sorry I broke up with you. I must have broken your heart and-"
"Don't apologize when it's not your fault, sweetheart. I should have cut ties with her a long time ago." He places a small but sweet kiss on your forehead. “I have the best girlfriend again and I have absolutely no plans to part with her.” You smile tenderly as you roll on top of him. “Good, because me neither.”
You kiss him gently on his lips, while he puts his arm around your waist and brings your head closer with his hand to deepen the kiss. He can't stop kissing your soft lips, because he missed it so much, he can't resist.
He slowly pulls away so he can just get a clear view of your face, while resting his nose on yours. “In the end I think I’m the one who’s completely obsessed with you baby.” You giggle, stealing a little kiss from him. “No need to tell me, I already knew that. A certain fake account of yours on Instagram was only watching my stories”.
He blushed violently at your words. "Fuck. Am I really a bad stalker?" “Well, not as bad as Maddie.” He bursts out laughing and tightens his embrace around you. “Good to know I'm better than that girl” He ends up diving back in for another kiss, this time more intense and more passionate.
He moans weakly as he lets himself into the kiss. Suddenly, the bedroom door bursts open to reveal your best friend. You both look at her, surprised. But to your relief, she rolls her eyes in a mocking grin and half-closes the door, before adding, "I think I'm finally going to cancel the netflix and chill and leave you to a romantic sex night."
You throw a cushion from the couch at her, but she manages to dodge. “Fuck you!” You shout at her as she continues to make fun of you. “You should say that to me, right?” Your boyfriend gives you a mischievous grin full of innuendo. You gently hit him on the chest as your best friend finally leaves, closing the door.
“Tomorrow, she is dead” You add, already thinking about what revenge you are going to prepare for her. “I think you're the one who will be dead after what I'll do to you tonight” Lando continues to add in order to tease you and despite your annoyance, you can’t help but giggle shyly. “But first, I want to cuddle you” You tell him before pecking his lips.
“I don’t ask for anything more” He ends up confessing before kissing you again, not being able to hold back the smile that forms on his lips.
After all, maybe it's true. Lando is ultimately the most obsessed with you. But as long as it's him, you know it'll never be a problem for you.
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wriothesleybear · 2 months
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Gallagher with a cute little housewife!reader
~warnings: fluff, some spiciness, fem!reader, MDNI!
Gallagher would love to have a cute little housewife to come home to. Someone who cares for him, makes him dinner, and loves him. He loves when you wear your cute little apron that suits your figure nicely. (He wonders what it would look like if you wore nothing except for the apron.)
He usually can't help himself and takes you from behind on the counter while you're finishing up the cooking. He tries to be quick because he wouldn't want your delicious dinner to get cold. After dinner, he returns the favor and gives his thanks by doing the dishes.
He loves when you greet him at the door when he walks in, asking him how his day was as you kiss him on the cheek, telling him how much you missed him. He could just take you right there in the front entryway entrance. He can't help it. You're just so cute and such a loving, dotting wife. On the daily, he thinks about how lucky he is to have you as his wife.
He has you taste test the drinks he makes at home when he's coming up with new ideas. He loves how your eyes brighten as you watch him make drinks. The excitement and admiration is written on your face. Praises about how talented he is leave your beautiful lips. He gets a little bashful if you praise him too much. His cheeks slightly red as he looks away from your gaze, rubbing the back of his neck. He's also a little bashful because your praise involuntarily makes blood rush to his cock. He never got much praise in his life so he didn't know that he would love it so much when you did it. He finally loses control when you call him 'my husband'. The drinks are soon forgotten as he carries you to your shared bedroom where he can show his undying love for you as your husband.
He's not a morning person so he struggles with getting up for work, but having you gently waking him up with kisses smothering his face helps a little (but not much because now he'd rather stay in bed where he can hold you and share slow, passionate kisses). If you really want to get him out of bed, promise him shower sex. He'll immediately get up, picking you up bridal style and carry you over to the shower. (In no way is it a quick shower.) While he gets dressed, you make him some breakfast and pack a little lunch for him.
You see him off at the front entrance, kissing him goodbye. Instead of a quick kiss goodbye, he cups your cheek and wraps a strong arm around your waist, pulling you close as he deepens the kiss. It's such a passionate, love filled kiss that you're left breathless once he pulls away. It's romantic but it leaves you with wanting more and debating whether to ask him to stay a little longer instead of going into work. You hold your tongue though, not wanting him to get in trouble because you know he'll say yes if you ask. He can't say no to you.
He can see the desire in your eyes even if you don't say anything. He feels the same way, but he disciplines himself and ends up going to work. He doesn't leave without promising to show you how much he missed you once he comes home. It's something to hold you both over for now.
He sometimes runs into you while he's out and about working. Seeing you helps his mood when he's getting annoyed from the newbie hounds. When he sees you, he takes his attention away from the young hound dogs he's training and puts it all on you. If he had a tail, it'd be wagging for you. He does get annoyed if his conversation with you gets interrupted by either a guest breaking rules or the young hounds messing around.
This man would be a simp for his wife. Enough said.
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kingsandbastardz · 3 months
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So for basically my whole life I'd grown up with and was resigned to accept that the chinese concept of formal/nice clothing of my and the previous generation has been western clothes. So at any awards ceremonies or performances, entertainers would show up mostly in western suits/dresses and maaaaaybe you'll spot the occasional cheongsam if they're going for a Wong Fei Hong vibe. Which, you know, kinda sucks if you have any concept of western cultural imperialism in asia.
So when the hanfu revivalist movement started, I was waiting to see when it would enter the mainstream -- my hope was for fashion designers to integrate traditional/dynastic elements into their work and make it common place enough that I can buy this shit online for ME. Because I WANT.
Though some of the designs can be a bit hit or miss, I am LOVING what various stars and entertainers are wearing out and about now.
Anyway - here's a collection of Xiao Shunyao's modern hanfu inspired/hybridized stage outfits from the last couple years. For his MLC performances, his stylists seem to be borrowing inspiration from his Di Feisheng and possibly other character costume silhouettes.
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I'd been seeing a few comments about how his outfits play with gender - and some of his outfits do! But I think the interesting thing to discuss is from which standard is he playing with gender? Because from a western perspective, the things he does with his western suit tops, belting on top of the jacket for a tightly cinched waist, and the addition of a trailing skirt = femme. But if you're talking from a hanfu-hybridized pov, that's just a modern take on hanfu and having any of those elements is not inherently femme and would often read masc to me.
So these things aren't necessarily gendered because they exist traditionally in chinese men's clothing or costume designs (ie video games, comics, historical fiction illustrations and film, etc, so therefore in the modern lexicon of masculine/acceptable for men):
presence or lack of a skirt
silky, velvety, gauzy or sparkly material choice, esp in formal or stage clothing
short or long length of skirt
embroidery
flowers/floral/bird designs
folding fans
certain styles of makeup
beading, gold, tassels, jewels
non-chunky jewelry
headbands
widely flowing silhouettes
What XSY's stylists are doing with some western clothing items are interesting. I'm convinced there have been one or two western jacket tops made of thinner material that they're folding over the front, and belting down instead of buttoning (which then matches with his other outfits that are designed specifically to do this). Then they're adding a skirt, cloak or bracer element to it.
The western portions often bring a military minimalist feel which they balance with a more gauzy material in the skirt or cloak portions.
Things I think are playing with gender:
row 1 - image 1: red di feisheng-inspired outfit
The lace-up girdle is there to match the bracers in both material and style. And it's positioned to be similar to the heavy belt that Di Feisheng wears. HOWEVER. That style of girdle/corset-like clothing item can't be divorced from the modern idea of sexy leather corsets. So imo, this waist piece on that outfit was a choice. Especially when paired with his allergic-to-collars-higher-than-his-sternum necklines. And if you take into context how masculine yet female coded his character is in the drama, the whole look evokes that.
row 2, image 1: black western suit with belt on top, hat, cloak, black boots and not-visible but also a black tassel fringe skirt
Hat and cloak moves the intention of the outfit from western toward a more Asian slant, because alone, it looks like a western black suit with western heeled boots, cinched waist with a lady's belt (seated photoshoot) and western style tassel skirt. The suit top consists of a vest and a shrug-like sleeve portion that appears masculine at first glance. But take the shrug and pair it with the tassel skirt (I can't find the red carpet photos but here is a better view of the skirt when seated), and I think you got a look that's both intentionally edging toward the femme in a western sense but also confusing matters by hiding within the parameters of both western and chinese traditional male styling.
row 2 - image 2 : white asymetrical western jacket styled in a front fold-over style, gauze skirt, trailing pearl embellishments
The more traditional leaning version of this is the white outfit in row 3 that he wears to the Hi6 Hello Saturday variety show -- the skirt portion on that outfit is one I'd consider non-gendered. Row 1, images 2 and 3 are examples of masculine/neutral uses of gauze that plays with flow of form but isn't inherently femme. This stage outfit is very western-appearing masculine suiting, until you hit the skirt which is giving me long ballerina tie-on skirt with the additional swan/mermaid pearl strings. Imo, another example of deliberately using traditional masculine styling but switching it up with the combination of material choice and make that is feminine.
row 2, image 3: black space military boots, black suiting, black -silver ombre sequin trailing skirt and white gauzy shawl with black floral design
The over all design is going for a masculine military-feel. (think this outfit for shen langhun) But instead of a thicker military cloak, it's replaced with a woman's gauze shawl and a skirt that trails behind him very much like the back of a woman's formal fish-tail gown when he moves around. If you take into context Wang Herun's outfit is a white-silver sequined dress cut in a way to also give a space-military-queen vibe, imo they both coordinated their outfits to balance out with both femme and masc qualities.
Thoughts? I'm curious what others think about this.
While I wait for the CNY photoshoot for XSY's red and black look, here's him with his stage collaborators with a nice range of skirt lengths, period influences and material choices. The woman in the center is the one with the most military-fighter design out of the bunch. The dudes are all in variations of formal-wear-with-good-kicking-boots (and lots of crotch space).
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archonsabyss · 3 months
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╰─..✶. [ Constellation of love ]
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❒ pairing : zayne x fem!reader
❒ genre : romance! established relationship! hint of spice! minor angst w comfort!
❒ warnings : sexually suggestive! zayne is not the most expressive when it comes to sharing thoughts or feelings about himself (this does not apply to displays of physical affection, affirmation, your relationship on the whole)
❒ word count : 4.1k
─❒ authors note : ironic how caleb was my inspiration and driving force to write for Love and Deepspace, only for my first fic to be about zayne. this was inspired by the song "I'm Yours" -the script
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His shift had ended over an hour ago, yet he remained ensconced within the unadorned walls of his mundane enclosure as the hands of the wall clock kept pace with his thudding heart. Apart from that, there was a serene stillness.
It fascinated him to an extent how this silence created room for such intense thoughts that he could almost hear his anxiety of longing; that he could almost see the reflective daze of enamorment flickering in his eyes as he looked through the expansive window, not perceiving a city nor the alignment of lights stretching across the earth, but envisioning your face and that incredibly bewitching smile.
Carved into his recollections were the smallest of details of your features— the asymmetrical dance of your smile where one lip ascended slightly higher; the delicate lines adorning your nose with its subtle scrunch; and the way your eyes neither exaggeratedly rounded nor formed tiny creases.
It was a sight he so dearly missed, but even with that profound sense of longing he still could not find the courage to retrieve his phone, dial your number, and confess the sentiment aloud. The mere contemplation of it brought about a dainty blush to the apples of his cheeks, a sensation almost bordering on embarrassment and so he closed his eyes and tried to vividly recreate your portrait from memory, only he soon realised the futility as it could never truly rival the sight of you in person. Still, he persisted because he wished nothing more than to see your broad smile with his own eyes and revel in the melody of your joyous laughter.
It takes him a lot longer than he would have preferred but eventually a blurred image manages to take shape and although it's somewhat hazy and not immediately discernable, he can well enough capture the essence of what's unfolding.
He sees the dance of your fingers sliding across his palm and intertwining with his, just before you pull him through the crowds with energy he can't quite relate to. You cast him a few glances now and then to ensure he remains right behind you, even though your firm grip on his hand already keeps him close.
The scene seamlessly morphs into a setting that feels strangely familiar to him. It reveals itself to be his bedroom, with those unmistakably moody grey walls you've suggested he decorate with portraits or perhaps a contemporary strand of fairy lights. A suggestion you eventually gave up figuring it might not suit his style. Little did you know his search history was brimming with room decorating ideas and his online cart packed with items you've recommended, hoping you'd approve the next time you visit. And so he sees you both standing in the middle of his room with your hand cradling his face and your thumb gently tracing circles on his cheeks.
It's sweet. A modest gesture that has him reminiscing of the times it actually happened, and he believes this may be where his daydream concludes. But in a sudden turn of events, the scene shifts abruptly and he's still standing at the centre of his room, only there's no longer any distance between you and him as his lips are fervently connected to yours in a flurry of provoked passion.
Behind his closed eyelids, his pupils are shaking as he witnesses the screenplay of your hands clutching his collar while your shirt drapes just below your shoulders. The expanse of skin from your earlobe to your breasts, and the distinct outline of your bra straps captivate him to an extent where his mouth salvates as he watches the version of himself in his dreams, move you backwards until the back of your knees meet the edge of his bed and you topple down, bringing him along with you.
Zayne managed to catch his weight before it crushed you by extending a hand out to connect with the mattress all while keeping the kiss intact and it is the course of moans emanating from your throat after he does that forces him to snap back into reality and confront the repercussions of his wandering mind.
The pounding of his heart stirs up a droning noise in his ears that is so unmistakably audible, that they practically sing in delight as his embarrassment draws out a shaky breath from his lips.
Zayne blinked his widened eyes at the provocative thoughts and placed a hand over his mouth in sheer disbelief, feeling the seething heat emanating from his face beyond his control while the tips of his ears burned with a blend of warmth and self-awareness.
"Pull yourself together," He monotones to himself as several minutes pass him where his senses traverse along the plains of questioning his dignity.
He grapples with the shame of his desperation for you that he remains unaware of the door to his office opening and closing, as well as the rhythmic clicking of footsteps approaching him just as your voice emerges with a murmured greeting, and your arms envelop his waist, prompting him to startle and turn on his feet ready to have a word with whoever dared to initiate such intimacy. But his apprehension quickly dissipates upon realizing it's you.
As if anyone else would ever have the guts to initiate physical touch with him, of all people.
"Missed me" You grinned up at him and there's that breathtaking smile of yours that has haunted his every thought for the entire day.
He hums in response to your question knowing his feelings better conveyed themselves through actions, and so he reaches out to delicately grasp your chin between his thumb and index finger and descends upon your lips with his own in a kiss that feels like a reenactment of the inception of his less-than-innocent daydream.
It's a kiss with a superiority that far surpasses the one shared in his thoughts by such a considerable margin and he indulges himself with utmost care in the way his mouth moves against yours.
His lips are soft as they nibble and tenderly envelop your lower one. The kiss is far from being only intricate with the amount of exploring tongues that delve into every crevice of each other's mouths. The saliva mingles and coats your lips at an exceptionally slow and gentle pace, creating a faint blend of moisture as the kisses smack with the occasional muted suctioning.
You're so lost in each other, that you lose track of time until the necessity to pull back for air arises. You take note that your lungs were not as adept at holding prolonged breaths at a time, as his were.
As you retreat, the realization settles upon you that you were only moments away from taking it somewhere else. Your cheeks flush with a heat under the intense gaze emanating from his eyes that peer at you through the glass of his spectacles.
"What are you doing here?" He asked, the resonance of his deep, husky voice echoing in your ears and inciting the butterflies within your stomach to run a mock.
Had you been anyone else you likely would have recoiled beneath the icy and distant timbre of his voice, misinterpreting the straightforward tone and failing to notice the underlying concern that hinted in his eyes.
"We haven't seen each other for afew days. Didn't you miss me orworry about me?" You teased.
"The weather was nice and judging by your flood of messages you must have been fine without me. Though I'd like to know why you arrived without texting me in advance."
"I missed you"
He tilts his head, denying the way his heart leapt at the confession. "What if I had already gone home?"
He steps back to create a bit of distance without raising your suspicion as he quite honestly needs a moment to quell his tumultuous heart before he takes you into his arms, which inevitably he will do again but only after he gets himself under control. Zayne casts a brief glance in your direction as he rounds his desk and begins to collect the scattered sheets of paper and neatly stack them, feigning busyness.
"I took my chances and would you look at that, I walked into your office to find you exactly where I had hoped you'd be" You remarked, watching as he perused through documents
"That was reckless of you," He chimed with a small disapproving shake of his head. "What if I wasn't here? All the money you spent on transportation would have been a waste. Not to mention it is quite late and you're out alone at night."
"Oh you're such a worrywart" You dismissed with a roll of your eyes, "Give me a break will you, Love? It's enough dealing with Caleb and Grandma as is and now you too. Besides, I was on my way to your apartment when I remembered to call you, but of course, you didn't answer and so I contacted the hospital and they mentioned Dr Zayne was still in despite his shift ending─" You looked down at your wrist-watch, "Almost four hours ago"
"Either way─"
You interrupt him by reaching over the desk and placing a finger on his lips to silence him. "If you're going to pretend you're not happy to see me I can always leave, and then both the money and coming here would be an actual waste"
It was hard to get his final say when you inadvertently threatened him with the possibility of leaving, knowing it was his weakness as of right now. That alone was enough to have him seal his mouth shut and accept the situation.
You practically radiate with approval as he simply gives in without a further fight.
Zayne let out a deep sigh as he settled into his seat and pushed aside whatever papers remained in the middle. He observed you from across the desk and gave a small tilting gesture with his head, hoping you'd read between the unspoken lines and figure out what he wanted without him having to explicitly state it. Fortunately for him, you did.
You left your bag behind on the opposite end of his desk as you circled it to reach him.
He slid back and swivelled to the side, his legs parting in invitation.
Your gaze falls to his lap as you halt in your steps, a flush creeping across your face upon noticing the bulge that presses against the fabric of his pants and Zayne's unfazed expression. He simply raises a brow and boldly takes your hand, leading you to perch on his lap.
An unusual shyness takes over you even though it's not the first time you've sat on his lap. Perhaps it's the solitude of being alone in his work environment with the romantic view of a thousand stars and the glow of man-made lights illuminating the world beyond the window.
"Why exactly haven't you gone home yet?" You whisper tenderly as your fingers trace over the noticeable dark circles beneath his eyes framed by the metallic obsidian of his glasses. "You look exhausted"
You touched these tired eyes of mine
And mapped my face out line by line
And somehow growing old feels fine
He worries if he should succumb to his vulnerability and confess the truth, or retort with something dismissive. But he decides to rid himself of questioning everything and leans into your touch, his eyes fluttering closed as you cradle his face.
"What's on your mind, Zayne"
Listen close for I'm not smart
He feels your hands leave his face, and he's about to voice a complaint when he senses his spectacles sliding off his face, followed by a brief pause and then the unmistakable feeling of your lips leisurely planting kisses on the bridge of his nose, his forehead, and the dark circles beneath his eyes.
You wrap your thoughts in works of art
And they're hanging on the walls of my heart
Despite their roughness, his hands display the utmost gentleness when he holds your sides and the feeling your touch evokes makes his fingers press with a reassuring weight into your hips to anchor himself in the moment.
I may not have the softest touch
I may not say the words as such
And though I may not look like much
"Talk to me" You encourage. Your voice, like the delicate touch of flower petals falling. His ears are attuned and he blinks his eyes open, directly locking gazes with you. Ever so slightly they soften and his eyebrows unfurrow, the side of his lips raising with subtle visibility and he's sure as the dawn, understanding like never before with a knowledge he's never embraced prior.
I'm yours
He's yours
Zayne smiles at the thought, and even though you've been fortunate enough to witness it more than anyone else it will never cease to be a welcomed delight. You can't quite pinpoint why his aura appears more at ease now but you have no intention of complaining. He leans his face closer to yours, his eyes demanding a reaction while his hand places on the side of your head causing you to direct your gaze to his tie.
"Have you gotten into any trouble lately" His voice, dripping with honey, lowers as he speaks to you.
You shake your head with furrowed brows in response to his inquiry.
"I'm not always out looking for trouble!" You retort.
"No, but it seems drawn to you, and hence, it finds you"
"My trouble magnet must not be that strong considering it seems ineffective against a certain kind of trouble."
He arches a single, incredibly attractive brow. "Are you implying I'm trouble?"
"Am I?"
"I wouldn't grasp the meaning even if you did Love. I'm far too occupied with work to find myself in any sort of trouble, and it would seem my hands are tied dealing with a little troublemaker of my own. Besides, I don't reckon two troublemakers would make a balanced couple, would they now"
"So you're implying I'm the trouble one between us?"
"Not at all" He fails to hide the amusement from peaking out through the smirk that tilts his lips. "I just believe you're quite the allure to things not entirely safe."
"Oh, is this some kind of insinuation as well?" You scrunch your nose. "Not entirely safe as in...?"
A pregnant pause hangs in the air as silence cuts through. Suddenly, it hits you, and you snap your head at him with wide eyes, your jaw dropping in disbelief. "Oh."
He chuckles, poking your forehead. "You talk too much."
"You talk too little!"
"Do you want me to talk more?"
"Yes. No... Yes..." You groan, covering your eyes with your hand. "Don't ask me questions like that."
"Want to hear my voice that much?" The smug tone in his voice accompanies that breath-stealing smirk as he pries your hand from your eyes and kisses your knuckles.
"This is exactly what getting into trouble feels like," You mutter under your breath. "You're fucking trouble. I think I need my heart checked. As a doctor, you're causing more damage than healing"
For dramatic effect, you accelerate your breathing and pretend to heave for air while clutching your heart.
"Your condition is incurable," Zayne slips his arm around your waist and draws you flush against him until your noses touch. "You can't get rid of me so easily."
"Seems you're doing that on your own though" He becomes more attentive upon hearing the sigh you exert afterwards, and the air tenses ever so slightly.
"What does that mean, Angel?"
"Don't think I forgot how you evaded my questions earlier."
"It is nothing"
"Mhm, nothing as in something?"
"It is nothing to concern yourself with" He withdraws.
"I won't pry for now, but perhaps you should head home and get some sleep. You looked more exhausted than usual."
"I'm fine."
"You should still go home."
"I'd rather not."
"Why?"
"You're prying."
"I'm concern-ing"
"That's not how the word is meant to be used," He corrects, and you're on the verge of exploding when you muster a fake smile, relenting with exaggerated sarcasm, "I'm expressing concern. Happy now?"
"Thrilled," He deadpans, and you pinch his cheek causing him to glare at you.
"So you don't want to go home"
"I did not say that"
"You're unusually stubborn, especially when it involves something you don't want to disclose. So why the reluctance to go home?" You pointed it out knowingly.
Zayne remains silent in response to your questions, his lips tightly sealed as his thoughts delve into the depths of contemplation. It has neared an hour and a half since your arrival that dispelled the loneliness that took hold of him, and he hesitates to provide any reason for you to leave. He knows that sharing his worries will give you every reason to stay and never leave his side, but he grapples with the discomfort that opening up about his internal struggles could bring. The prospect of delving into his emotions and sharing them with you raises uncertainties about the potential outcomes, creating a hesitant barrier in his mind.
For him, it's something seemingly insignificant yet deeply personal. For someone who has dedicated their entire life to saving others and dealing with countless individuals and their distinct reactions, this internal struggle appears unusually challenging.
In that moment, it's you, nestled on his lap offering him the world through just your touch and your unconditional love for him. A soul poised between a state of simple and unadorned equilibrium. Someone who admitted a thousand times over how much they missed him, how much they loved him, how insatiable the longing for his presence was, they were all woven together by a thread of love and your shyness and nervous anticipation.
His long slender fingers touch your cheeks, his mind teetering towards admittance.
"I've somehow lost touch with the experience of solitude" He states, though he appears entirely lost in a world of his own. "I've missed you"
His hand drifts lower, parting your lips with his thumb. "Going to a place without you there seemed pointless. Calling it home when your presence is absent makes it feel empty. And so I chose to stay back and wait until my exhaustion reached a point where returning to my apartment wouldn't leave me yearning for you constantly"
And though my edges may be rough
"I must admit this is a foreign feeling to me, and while it is not as awkward as I anticipated, it does cause a bit of embarrassment. I feel as though I come across as excessively reliant on you, as if I lack emotional independence"
I never feel I'm quite enough
I may not seem like very much
But I'm yours
"This feels like the most you've ever talked to me despite knowing each other for almost our entire lives" You smiled, holding back a sob as tears welled up in your eyes and he found your reaction puzzling, wondering about the reason behind it.
He is unaware of the significance this holds for you and your relationship. His confession carries substantial weight, revealing feelings he has guarded closely all this time. These emotions kept hidden for so long are something you've gently encouraged him to share, trying not to press too hard or pry them out of him but aiming to help him unburden himself. It feels as though the red string of fate has finally begun to extend a bit further, as if the stars now align and connect, finally crossing the barriers they once held, bringing the ends together at long last.
Your love is deeply passionate and intertwined, much like those red strings, and your love is written in the constellations of those stars that run far across the galaxy.
"Why are you crying, Angel"
Your quivering smile reveals the acknowledgment in your heart. You nod as if agreeing to his every word, freeing yourself from restraint and allowing the tears to flow as he gently brushes them away with the pads of his thumbs.
You healed these scars over time
Embraced my soul, you loved my mind
"You do know you just indirectly asked me to move in with you, don't you?" You chuckled breathlessly, joy accompanying the sentimental realization.
Zayne's mouth forms an 'oh'... "I didn't consider it from that perspective, but I suppose it amounts to the same thing."
Your grin spreads so wide that it's uncontrollable your cheeks ache from the happiness. Zayne carefully wipes away the remainder of your tears and seals the moment with a tender kiss that erases its every trace. He then pats your thigh which signals you to rise from his lap so he can stand up.
He leans down to your height with his left hand resting on his desk and the other cupping your face once again.
"It's entirely up to you." His whispered exhale caresses your lips, his eyes boring into yours. "I desire you more than anything. Should you decide to agree, you'll have me more frequently than my work permits."
"You'd divorce your work for me?"
He dismisses your teasing with a slight shake of his head and a hint of a smile, "Unbelievable. But if that's what you would like to think of it..."
"The idea sounds quite domestic," You giggle, wrapping your arms around his neck. "I'd love to have you all to myself every second you're at home, to the point where you might even get annoyed with me. But─ I wouldn't want to entirely pull you away from your work – work that helps people and has been one of the reasons I fell in love with you. I'll be content enough just to have you return home to me afterwards every night"
His heart rate undeniably quickens, evident in the pulsing of his neck and the shallowness of his breathing. You release your arms from around his neck and tend to the details of his appearance, straightening his collar and adjusting his tie.
"Besides," You add, "I love seeing you in your lab coat; it's insanely attractive"
Zayne presses a kiss to your cheek before trailing down to the sensitive area beneath your ear, a sense of excitement coursing through his veins as he envisions the promising future. In an instant, the prospect of returning to his apartment becomes highly anticipated, and the allure of his bed grows even more irresistible.
He swiftly gathers his phone and essentials as you pick up your bag and wait for him near the door. As he finishes, he approaches, noticing your outstretched hand and arching an eyebrow.
"What's with that expression?" You wrinkle your nose at the way he's eyeing your hand. "You worried your colleagues will see us holding hands?"
"On the contrary, I'd prefer if they saw it," he responds, taking your hand and interlocking your fingers.
"Then?"
He adorably tilts his head glasses once again perched on the bridge of his nose as you open the door, and he follows, "This is- quite a twist to how I imagined my day would unfold."
"It's only the beginning. You're in for a weekend of sprucing up your apartment with me," You playfully announce. "While I appreciate the modern aesthetic, I think you need something that feels more like a home."
"What have I gotten myself into" He muses, shaking his head, but deep down he harbours no regret, no wish for anything different – he'd have it no other way because the minute he heard your words, 'feel more like a home', it's like you knew him and what resided at his core, and a home with you is everything he longed for. Now, hand in hand, it's finally within reach.
"Hey, Zayne..."
He emits a soft hum as you cast a glance over your shoulder while he observes the illuminated numbers above the elevator descending.
"Let's go home"
He grins with a radiance unseen before, his eyes aglow with newfound brilliance. Nodding in agreement, he echoes the warmth of the sentiment. "Home is where the heart is," knowing his heart rests in your delicate hands.
You're the only angel in my life
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☣ copyright @archonsabyss all rights reserved // do not copy; steal; plagiarize; reword or repost my works to any other platform! No translations!! All credits to original owners of characters/anime/pictures that are not my own!
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2K notes · View notes
idyllcy · 4 months
Text
a pathological people pleaser
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word count: 4.4k
warnings: smut || pt 2 to and i wouldn't marry me either
summary: Jinshi's getting desperate to bed you.
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Jinshi contemplates what kind of a ring to get you. He really does. He looks through the designs that had been initially made for your marriage, but he finds inspiration in none of them. You would suit a ring that's crafted with only the finest of materials, not a ring that was just bought from the streets. Though, you had been going out with Maomao more often with some guards to have fun and buy food. At some point, the palace chefs are going to need to learn how to make a roujiamo that tastes like the ones on the street and not the fancy food that you had grown used to having.
He calls Maomao and Gaoshun for help picking a ring, but ultimately neither of them come up with something that would suit you. (He even asks his mother, but she is no help either.)
So, he rots in the confinement of your shared office, head spinning as he sketches more and more ring designs. The one of the current empress is nice, but it is not something of your style. The one that his mother had received was pretty as well, but not something that he desired to put on you. Perhaps a simple jade ring of your size would do better, but it seemed too plain compared to the kind of treatment he was supposed to give you. A simple jade ring would be fitting for him, but not necessarily for you. He would give you gold, but he wasn't quite sure what kind of a ring design would fit you.
He's gonna age from this, he swears.
Yet, he continues sketching at it between his paperwork, frowning at how big of a demand there are for eunuchs. The lower ranking concubines were still desperate, he finds. Perhaps especially with the announcement of his marriage... not announcement. He was married, but with the revealing of his marriage, it seems some concubines are getting desperate for some sexual release. Jinshi... really is no better than they are. He finds that he can't sit still around you these days.
He's... desperate. Yeah. Desperate is the right word.
"Rotting in here again?"
"You know, I'm starting to think you're actually Diu from your actions." Jinshi grumbles from his desk, shoving the paper with the ring designs to the side, catching your eye.
"To be fair, I am him, and he is me." You pick up the paper, tilting your head at the ring designs. "Designing rings for me? How sweet of you. Why not just use one from the treasury?"
"You deserve a new one." He groans. "I wanted to design one for you."
"Why not just gold?" You hum. "And then thread a pearl and jade orb through them."
"A jade ring would be nice." Jinshi hums, staring up at the pin in your hair. "To match your pin."
"Whatever you design." You hum. "I'm sure I will be satisfied."
"It has to be perfect." He mopes. "Or else I will not forgive myself."
"That's rather harsh on yourself." You hum, reaching for his brush as you sketch a design. "I liked the ring presented to the empress."
"The blue gem?"
You tap your chin. "Though, the gold isn't my favorite combination." You finish your sketch, noting down the color scheme, and Jinshi blinks at the choice.
"You just want a plain jade ring?"
"For the wedding ring." You blink. "The westerners are quite intriguing with the tales they tell. The women there boast many rings."
"You went to the west?"
You shrug. "A season is plenty of time to explore."
"She went to a port city." Maomao speaks up from the door. "Gaoshun is asking for the report."
"I sent it to him already?" You raise a brow.
"The one regarding the ceremony in the winter."
"Ah." Jinshi's fingers slide down the stack, pulling out a booklet between all of it. "Here."
Maomao nods, pausing as she catches wind of the ring design. "How about a ring with the royal family's seal?"
"I'm not becoming crown prince." Jinshi grimaces.
"I am sure the emperor would allow it regardless."
"I don't want a ring like that." You pause. "though, it would be quite a statement to wear it on the pinky."
"You want a divorce?!" Jinshi cries, heartbroken as Maomao leaves the room with the report.
"No." You shrug. "I might if you keep putting off the concubines' requests."
Jinshi jumps in his skin as he goes back to the papers, and you glance at the ring you've drawn.
"Carve a jade ring with a phoenix for our wedding ring. I do not desire gold." You hum. "And you are to have a dragon on yours."
Jinshi looks up at you, eyes gentle as he drinks in your figure under the setting sun, summer wind rustling the leaves outside, heat not too much to handle either. There is something delicate and breathless about you to him. You are worth so much, yet he had to spend such little time compared to the age of the universe to prove that you are his only one. Time is suck a fickle thing when it came to the clouds and sky. He supposes that's more a reason to treat you well and make up for time lost.
"Is that all you want?"
"What else would I want?"
"How about a jade pendant?"
"With the royal family's seal carved into it?"
Jinshi laughs. "Why not my last name?"
"Sure, pretty prince."
Jinshi flushes.
You have tea with Ah-Duo a lot during fall. The weather cools bit by bit, and you sit in your yard, peeling the sugarcane as she looks through the files, humming at your writing, each stroke nice and clean. She puts the papers down, a maid rushing over to take them to your study, and she glances at the sickle and cane in your hand. It seems you have found new talents outside of the palace walls. It fills her with a sense of warmth, almost.
"How do you feel about the new eunuchs?" She hums.
"Some of them are rather attractive." You hum, not paying much mind as you cut off a piece for the lady.
"Is that so? Yue would have a heart attack if he heard you say that." She takes the piece, popping it in her mouth as she chews, humming. "It's sweet. I like it."
"That's good." You laugh. "I had the chefs just hand me whichever one." You continue to hack at the crop with the sickle. "Jinshi would be fine."
"I doubt it." She hums, spitting out the dry cane into the bowl prepared beforehand by the maids. "He is rather protective when it comes to things he desires... you included."
"It is only recently that he has become protective over me." You hum, putting a piece into your own mouth as you chew. She was right. It is sweet. "Which is also why he refuses to become the imperial prince."
"You would make a great empress."
"I would." You chuckle. "I have been raise for the role, after all."
"Though, this is better." She smiles. "You are happier like this."
"Oh, well as empress, I suppose I would not do too much. Jinshi, though? That poor man."
"He would have quite the work set out for him." She hums. "Though, you would be there to support him."
"I suppose." You hum. "It would be better had you been ascended to the position of empress."
"What is done is done." She hums. "I find it more amusing that your talk with the emperor of letting me visit worked."
You snort. "I saw the chance and took it. It would be a shame to not host you at least once in a house that is now warm."
"I suppose so." She smiles. "Does it not hurt to cut the sugarcane yourself?"
"It does not." You hum. "My hands are stained with sugar, and I work up a good sweat. I find it fun."
"Fun?"
You snap the plant in half, handing the peeled half to Ah-Duo as you continue with the unpeeled half.
She bites it, humming. "It is good. Is there a reason to cut it? I no longer remember."
"It's so you can get the most of it." You offer her one of the knives on the table. "Be careful not to cut yourself."
"I will." She nods. "Have you learned anything else?"
"A foreigner showed me how to peel a pomegranate." You pause. "Oh, and I have developed a strange talent for peeling oranges. It is incredible how clean it can peel with the right tools."
She nods, popping a piece into her mouth.
"How are the children?" You tilt your head, cutting another piece to put in the central bowl.
"They are faring well." She hums. "They are children, after all."
"I suppose." You mumble. "Jinshi went a little insane on their family."
"Not to mention he had full right, holding the army seal." She chuckles. "I heard from the maids that the imperial court threw a fit upon the realization that you had been holding onto something so precious and had just casually given it to Jinshi in order to save a maid."
"Not just any maid at the time." You snort. "Jinshi's dear maid."
"Of course." She smiles. "Though, he had been in love you. He had simply pushed it down."
"Like father like son, I suppose." You mumble. "Has the emperor visited?"
"Not yet." She pauses. "Is he planning so?"
You turn your head at the sound of footsteps.
"Jinshi." You hum, smiling.
He steps over to press his lips to your forehead, smiling fondly at your juice-stained hands, only freezing when he remembers his mother is with you. "...niang."
Ah-Duo waives her hand. "How cute."
Jinshi flushes, and you chuckle, pinching his cheek.
"You needed something?"
"The emperor is coming for a visit, niang." He pauses. "To our residence. He will be visiting the tearoom."
You raise a brow at Jinshi.
Jinshi shakes his head at you.
"Very well." You grin, shaking Jinshi off of you as you peel the sugarcane with eerie accuracy, cutting the rest into bits for the late consort to enjoy. "You can take the bowl."
"None for me?" Jinshi pouts.
"The emperor matters more in this case." You shrug. "I shall send some maids to accompany you."
"Alone will be fine." Ah-Duo nods. "Thank you."
You smile as she leaves, and Jinshi takes her spot, pouting at the sugarcane she had left behind.
"I want a bite."
You take the plant from him, cutting pieces off for him, watching as he chews, reaching for his throat as he threatens to swallow. This fucking dumbass.
You pry his jaw open, ignoring the fact that your hands probably taste like some sort of sugar, ordering him to spit it out. He listens, dry cane spat into the bowl you've held before his mouth, and his spit slides down with hit, the poor male panting like some bitch in heat. You let go of his mouth, exhaling as you mumble. "Good boy."
The words ring in Jinshi's head and shoot straight to his dick, and he licks your fingers unconsciously, eyes half-lidded as he tastes the sugar on them. Wait.
fuck.
He was NOT supposed to do that.
You freeze as something brushes your knee, and you stare into Jinshi's eyes as he stares back up at you, blinking rapidly, praying you wouldn't point it out. The two of you meet eyes, and you back up, sitting back down as the two of you wait for the other to speak up. Jinshi refuses to speak up.
You break the silence. "I'll wait."
"Thank you." He mumbles, cheeks red in embarrassment as he rushes off to somewhere private.
This is awful.
some days you wonder how long Jinshi went without sexual release.
It's a strange thought, really. So, when you and Jinshi are wedded and you're waiting for him on the wedding night in your shared bed, you don't know what to think. Alright, wedded is the wrong word. The two of you are rewedded, and you are dressed in the robes the late empress had prepared for the two of you to sleep together in. You think it's too little, but apparently it's supposed to rile Jinshi up. Speaking of Jinshi, you wonder how he's dealt with getting boners. He... can't sleep with someone because he's a eunuch, but he can't just leave himself hard forever.
Jinshi stares at you from the door as you're lost in thought.
Skin. You're showing skin. He feels rabid at the sight— as though he were some carnivore in the wild, grew before his eyes. He feels as though he would go feral if he were to get his hands on you, so he stands there, collecting himself. He can't scare you off. He finally has you in his hands again, this time treating you properly, and he can't just scare you off because he's wanted to touch you for ages but couldn't.
"Jinshi?" You tilt your head at him, and he musters up a smile.
"I don't want to scare you." He pauses. "But I fear the maids did a little too good of a job with you."
He offers you a drink, and the two of you down it before you lick your lips to speak up.
"Why? You want to defile me?" You lean forward, almost as if to emphasize your point, and Jinshi flushes red.
"I really wonder how you learned to flirt like that when you were Diu." Jinshi sits next to you, fingers pushing your hair back as he leans in. "This is fine, right?"
"Would be funnier if I were Diu right n-" You're cut off as Jinshi presses his lips to have you shut up. He loves you, but god, were you infuriating sometimes. It was as though the winter and spring without him had changed you into a different person— not that he minded. You're charming no matter how you act or react. Your hair scrunches between his palm and fingers, and you tilt your head to give him better access, passion and longing staining your face as he presses his lips to yours and his fingers bloody with something he's wanted forever. Some sort of twisted passion beats from his chest to yours, a whimper spilling past his lips as you thread your fingers through his hair.
He only pulls away when you soften against him, chest pressed to his as he feels your muscles tensing from the lack of breath.
"You still with me?" He moves his hand out, your hair slipping between his fingers as you hang your head to breathe.
"I sure wish you weren't good at everything you did," You keep your head hung, unraveling his robes with ease, palming his cock through the fabric wrapped around his waist. Jinshi's hips shift slightly for more friction, and your hand presses down on his hipbone, forcing him to still as you pull on the strand to free him, licking your lips at his length. "I don't think you're going to fit, pretty boy."
"We'll make it fit." He hisses out as you let the spit on your tongue roll onto the tip of his cock, smearing the precum with your saliva, your fingers smooth against his length as you spread it. Jinshi whimpers as you do, the ring around your finger cool against his skin, and you lean in to stare up at him through your lashes, biting your bottom lip as your hand speeds up. Jinshi whimpers, hand flying to wrap around your wrist and hold you still, and you tilt your head, yelping as he takes your lips pushing you back into the mattress. You lean into the kiss as he tugs on the bow, string coming out and top falling off with ease as his fingers brush your tits, thumb pressed to your nipple, humming into your mouth at the feeling of it hard. "Let me take care of you tonight." He huffs, pulling from you as he forces your tits up with his hands, pinching your nipple to catch a wince from you.
"Mean." You pout, no real annoyance on your face, and Jinshi busies himself with your chest, lips pressing a kiss to the meat of your chest, biting down— almost as though to mark you as his territory. It irks him some days that the maids still have lingering crushes on you from when you were Diu. So, his bites trail up from your chest to your neck, canines crazing over your pulse point as he bites down, hands sliding down to hold your waist as you crane your neck and whimper. Jinshi leans to force his chest to yours, and your fingers curl uncomfortably next to you as he sucks on your neck, purple blooming across your skin wherever his lips were.
"You're so pretty." Jinshi mumbles, finally pulling his lips off of you with a pop, staring down at you as you're suddenly aware that you are bare. You try to hide yourself but Jinshi makes work of his hands swiftly, holding your wrists together as he rolls his hips against yours experimentally. "I wonder how much of my reading is going to pay off."
"Studying through indecent literature? How sinful of you." You arch your back as he pulls your undergarments off, spreading your legs slightly as he slides his index finger down your slit, taking note of the slick threatening to spill out.
"I'd say this is worse, though." He slides a finger into you with ease, and you whimper as he curls it, nails slightly grazing your walls, making you gasp. "You sound so sinful like this. I sure hope you didn't let any other man see you like this."
"And if I did?"
"Then I'd suppose I'd just have to ruin their life." Jinshi straightens his middle finger as he curls his index out of you, sliding both into you at once. You shift slightly at the stretch. Jinshi curses under his breath at how tight you are. He doesn't want to break you your first night. So, he spreads his fingers in you slightly, thumb on your clit as he tries to loosen you. Instead, you flutter around him, only a light gasp freeing from your lips as he furrows his brows. He spreads his fingers, trying to make space for a third and get a reaction out of you. Instead, you don't react, simply shifting your hips to accommodate the stretch from his fingers.
"Am I bad?" He pouts, thumb finding your clit.
"No." You breathe, squirming from his touch.
"Am I average?"
"Jinshi, I have no idea. This is as much of my first time as it is yours." Your wrists fight against the grip of his hand, and he lets them go, lowering his face to your pussy instead, hooking your knees over his shoulders as he pulls you up. You back arches dramatically as he wraps his arms around your thighs, and Jinshi presses his tongue flat against your cunt, licking up as you jolt. He watches as your pussy flutters around nothing, and he slides his tongue in, moaning into your against as he tastes you. So this is what you taste like— some mixture of sin and lust, nectar that would put even the sweetest of peaches to shame. It would drive Jinshi to madness, he supposes.
Your fingers grasp at the pillow above your head, whimpering with each flex of Jinshi's tongue, and his fingers dig into your thighs, earning a squeal from your lips as you feel something tighten in your stomach. Your eyes widen as your nails dig into the sheets and your back arches impossibly more, tears in the corner of your eyes as Jinshi sucks at your orgasm, ignoring the mess of slick sliding down his chin and splattering onto the sheets. You turn red in embarrassment at the mess, but Jinshi pays it no mind, continuing to lap at your pussy, eyes digging into yours as he puts on a show for you. You look away from his eyes, opting to make a mess on his tongue instead, eyes rolled to the back of your head as a second orgasm crashes upon you. Jinshi drinks it up just as eagerly as the last, eyes half-lidded as
Your legs shake as Jinshi lets you down, fingers wiping the slick from his face as he pumps himself with it, and then sliding his tip beneath the hood of your clit to further coat his dick in your cum. You shift against his cock, grinding lightly into him as he chuckles. "Patience, beloved."
"I'd say you're worse than me." You heave, walls fluttering around Jinshi's length as he slides in. He notices the way your skin lifts with him inside of you, and he presses down on the bulge, blinking slowly. You gasp, stomach flexing out of instinct, pussy clenching around Jinshi with a hiss. Jinshi stays still, thumb brushing your clit to incite a reaction from you, earning him a lewd whimper. The sound shoots straight to his cock, head spinning as he slides his palm up your abdomen to your chest, pinching your nipple as he swallows.
"This is fine, right?"
"Insecure?" You roll your hips in affirmation. "I wouldn't have married you or let you catch me if it wasn't."
"Tease." He grumbles, taking your legs and folding them to your shoulders, forcing himself further into you. You moan, clenching around him as he moves, holding you down by the hips as he slams into you with each thrust, gasps slipping past your lips and colors in your vision as he moves. Flowers blossom in your lungs as you try to catch your breath, head spinning deliciously at the taste of Jinshi's lips on yours, a light fragrance from the rice wine he had taken mixing with the one on your lips, and you moan into his mouth, squirming from his touch. Your legs relax over his shoulders as he presses into you, fingers digging into the plush of your thighs, hair sliding off his shoulders to cage you in as you whimper.
The wind rustles the trees outside as you cum around Jinshi the first time, brows knit together and eyes closed as your face twists from the unfamiliar sensation, head thrown back and lips parting once the crash ended, and Jinshi stills, hand reaching to brush your hair to the side, cupping your face with his hand. "You alright?"
"Felt weird." You mumble. "Did you..?"
"No." Jinshi hums. "Would you like me to? Inside?"
"I don't mind." You whisper.
"Alright," He starts moving again, focusing on himself as your legs slide off his shoulders and fall into the mattress, hooking behind his pelvis as he thrusts, your arms wrapping around his shoulders as he pistons into you, your breath caught in your throat as you see white and stars, drool threatening to leak down your chin and choke you with your head thrown back and muscles tense. Jinshi pants into your ear as he feels himself get close, pulsing and ebbing inside of you with each roll of his hips, your name spilling past his lips in some sort of raw desperation and begging, only spilling into you once you call his name back through your cloudy haze, white painting your walls as white fills your vision, the same white visible in the air on the snowy trees.
His breath mixes with yours as he rests his forehead on yours, bare skin pressed to yours, sweat and cum mixing with your own, the two of you merged as one. In the distant past, you loved him until it physically destroyed you, and in the distant future he will love you until he is stuck in the same destruction that had dragged you away from him. Only then would he forgive himself, lips spreading into a gentle smile, eyes staring into yours as yours are closed, catching your breath as your chest rises and falls, vine of hickeys and bruises trailing down from your neck to your waist. Your walls flutter around him as you recover from another orgasm, skin flushed like peonies as Jinshi tilts his head to press a kiss to your shoulder.
"Still with me?" He presses his palm to your cheek, palm brushing your skin.
"Yes." You pant, grimacing at the squelch that sounds when he pulls out of you.
"I wonder if we'll be with child."
"I doubt it's this easy." You mumble, lashes fluttering. "Would you want one?"
"Up to you." He mumbles, reaching to the side to pour himself another glass of wine. "We do not have to worry about succession either."
"Oh, I've never been so thankful to have not ended up where I was supposed to." You sigh in relief.
"You do not want one?"
"Not my priority." You hum. "Unless you wish for one."
"You are my priority." Jinshi hums, offering you a glass. "Another?"
"No." You roll onto your stomach to stretch your back. "We have plenty of time as well."
"I suppose." Jinshi hums, holding his hand out for yours.
You give him your right hand, and he pouts.
"Your left. The ring."
You free your arm and hold it out, and Jinshi kisses your knuckles gently, eyes closed as he hums contently.
"We match." He smiles, lips curled into a gentle smile, eyes full of a warmth you had forgotten he was capable of. You smile, a laugh bubbling out of your chest as he fiddles with your fingers, some sort of domestic ambiance filling the room. And just like that, your anxieties fade away, and a smile makes way on your face.
"I love you." He hums, lips pressed to your forehead as he lays next to you, still holding your hand, his ring brushing against yours.
"I love you too." and you close your eyes, body relaxing into his, heartbeat one below the missing sun.
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faesystem · 5 months
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As an ambulatory wheelchair user I have so many thoughts about how people draw/write disabled!Scar. This is sort of a guide/insight from a disabled person about writing/drawing disabled people.
Specifically in regards to wheelchair users.
Do not get me wrong, this fandom is genuinely probably the best group of people I have ever seen when it comes to drawing wheelchairs. I do not believe I have ever seen Scar fanart where he is in a completely unusable, horrible, hospital chair. It is so clear people have taken the time and energy to research into wheelchairs and I love it. I am in no way saying stop that.
I just think people could maybe put a little bit more consideration into him being disabled beyond visual appearance.
I saw a really amazing artwork of SL!Scar and he is in a sports chair. Which is really cool, in many ways, as it shows some thought being put into the setting. If I were in combat, I would in fact like to not be knocked from my chair or have my chair tipped over.
Yet, you have very limited mobility in a sports chair. It is, by design, made to prevent you from tipping over. Which means that you are incapable of going over bumps, really, let alone natural terrain.
Just in general, there really is not any wheelchair that exists in our world that would allow wheelchair users to exist in a setting like the life series.
So, I have some ideas:
- Horses. Hands down my biggest suggestion. Especially with Secret Life they fit in very well with the setting, everyone uses them, and it fits the bill perfectly for what he would need. Especially considering Scar is an archer, it makes a lot of sense for him to be on horseback. It suits him and his style of fighting so well.
- Some sort of redstone power chair. There are all sorts of ways you could design something like this. Perhaps with pistons that push down against the ground, allowing for jumps. Perhaps just a series of pistions functioning as like a bunch of little spider legs. There are a lot of things you can do with that, you can get very creative.
- For my Vex!Scar lovers, you could have magic be used as a mobility aid. Perhaps a magic wheelchair, or perhaps a magic exoskeleton.
And with all of the ideas, considering how they fit into the setting really changes everything. What are the strengths? What are the draw backs?
With horses, they are strong and fast and agile. But they are big, it is hard to fit into small spaces, and they can be killed.
With some sort of redstone chair, I feel as though it would make sense for it to be robust and strong. Depending on how it is constructed, something fast and agile or perhaps something a bit slower and more clunky. Is it loud? How would stealth work in something like that?
When it comes to any sort of magic you do not want it to fix the disability. It is a mobility aid like any other. Not perfect, not the same as not being disabled, just another tool with its own unique draw backs. Perhaps magic is draining or it takes concentration. Would he tire quicker than others? Would he require food quicker than others? Is it possible for him to lose focus on it in a stressful situation, leaving him stuck until he can calm himself down?
Other things to consider are really specifically the setting as well as what disability you are giving him.
I feel as though on Hermitcraft an option like a redstone chair just makes a lot of sense. Multiple redstone chairs, even, all constructed differently for different uses. Such as ones for building. How does long distance travel work with the chair and how you lore your setting? Is it something he can put in his inventory? Is it something he remains in when using an elytra? Does that have any draw backs, such as being slower or needing more rockets or being less coordinated in the air?
I feel as though in the life series a mix of vex magic and horses makes a lot of sense. The magic is good for small spaces and short trips and emergencies, but it is too tiring to travel across the map with and too much effort to maintain when he needs to concentrate on battles. That would be where the horse comes into play.
As for what disability, well, it truly depends. Most of my rambles here have been based upon paraplegia, because I often times see people making him an ambulatory wheelchair user just because they do not know what to do otherwise.
Not that making him an ambulatory wheelchair user is a bad thing by any means. I am one and I adore reading stories like that. It is just a bit clear that a lot of you are quite lost as to how to navigate hurdles disabled people face, so you make it so he can walk over those hurdles. Which, once again, I am not shaming you for! This post is just to show there are other options
But in the case of him being an ambulatory wheelchair user: why is he one?
Mobilities aids are disabling unless you need them. You cannot access spaces or you do not have hands free or any number of things. What to the Scar you are writing makes using mobility aids helpful instead of a hindrance? What times are they more trouble than help, and what cost is there for not using it?
A good example is if Scar can walk around short distances with minimal difficulty/drawback, but long distances are painful or physically not possible.
Look into different disabilities and consider it. A lot of people tend to default to chronic pain because that tends to be quite a common one across a lot of disabled people, but there are a lot more different reasons why.
It could also be that he is very slow because of his disabilities. I have muscle weakness sometimes because of my FND, and it is like moving through sludge whenever I try and move.
It could also be that the mobility aids are a preventative measure. He does not need to use his wheelchair, unless he has done too much walking and then his body refuses to support his weight. He does not need to use his wheelchair, but when he does not he is a lot more likely to dislocate something and then yeah he can't walk. He does not need to use his wheelchair, but he is a fall risk especially after a lot of walking or running. Him being in his wheelchair prevents him from falling! (And if he's a fall risk, maybe he's strapped in too!)
I just have so many thoughts and I wanted to share them.
I see so many of you putting in effort already and it warms my heart. It is why I feel comfortable enough to make this post, because clearly you all care a lot about representing disabled people well.
:]
If you have read this far thank you so much. Let me know what you think or if you have any questions.
Edit: I made a rough redstone wheelchair design. It is one of the few reblogs that has comments, if you filter for that you should be able to find it. If not, reply to the post and I can send you the link to it. :]
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bobbinlacebliss · 1 year
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Finished project: Rosemary
I was scrolling through my own blog today (as one does) and realized I never did a proper round-up post for Rosemary. So this is a bit of a retrospective I suppose! Click through for my notes on the project if you're interested - otherwise, I hope you like the pictures!
This is certainly one of my favorite pieces that I've done. I think it really turned out beautifully! But, it also stands out in my mind for having a foul, foul, truly foul number of broken threads that had to be replaced in the middle of the work. I think at least 6? The ideal number of course being zero. At the time, this sucked. I had no idea what I was doing - you can see in one of the pictures that I was referencing three different books at one point trying to figure out how the heck to fix the dang things. But in hindsight, it was valuable experience! I got a lot of practice splicing in new threads, and I also stopped being so afraid of it happening. (Though of course one still likes to avoid it...)
I am not sure why so many threads decided to part company with their fellows, but I have some theories. I'm fairly sure it's not because of putting too much tension on the thread, because it didn't snap under pressure so much as just kinda fray and drift apart. My prime suspect is the bobbins - something about this style of bobbin makes it really hard (for me, at least) to prevent them rolling wildly all over the pillow during the work, which runs the risk of untwisting the thread. This is very sad for me because I love these bobbins. But I haven't given up hope that I can still make them work. They seem to roll less on my box pillow, so maybe they can just be reserved for that pillow. Also, I'm on that "it was a bad batch of thread" copium 😅
This was also the first time I tried mounting the finished lace onto fabric, which I was very worried about screwing up but it wound up not being so bad! Sewing is definitely not my strong suit, but I got through it and am pleased with the result.
Technical Notes
Pattern: "Rosemary" from A Visual Introduction to Bucks Point Lace by Geraldine Stott
Thread: Egyptian cotton 80/2 in bright white
Gimps: 8 ply of the base thread
Pins: .5 mm pins for the picots and motifs; .8mm pins for the ground and footside
Picots: 5 twists
Started: September 14, 2020
Completed: August 11, 2021
(If you've made it this far and you somehow haven't heard enough about this project, you can check out the "rosemary" tag on my blog to see my other posts about it.)
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odxrilove · 9 months
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BIRTHDAY BOY
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PAIRING: mingyu x f!reader
GENRE: fluff, friends to lovers, bday party!au? kinda confession!au, uni!au but not really mentionned
WARNINGS: , flirting, swearing, alchohol, drinking, one mention of being high (not yn or seventeen), etc typical party stuff, game of truth or dare, minghao is annoying x1 (jk), yn gets jealous a bit, yn and mingyu are in love ewwww, huge make-out session (borderline smut...) (JKKK. or am i), lots of tension + more?
WC: +8.1k
SYNOPSIS: It’s Mingyu’s birthday party, and Hoshi lets something out under the influence of alcohol. Apparently, you have two gifts prepared for him– completely throwing out the one-gift tradition your friend group strictly follows. However, Hoshi’s a liar — and a bad one at that — but it’s already too late. Even though Mingyu knows he’s supposed to be excited about all the gifts he’s receiving tonight, he’s (not so surprisingly) only interested in everything you’re giving him.
A/N: thank u so so much to sara the loml pookie bear (@4xiaojun) for reading it so many times over the past few months and hyping me up ! i couldnt have finished this fic if it wasnt for u ily bae !!!! &&& rec song - i dont understand but i luv u by seventeen 
FIC TAGLIST: @etherealyoungk @simpforyongbokk @luvhyun3 @nhularin @matchahyuck @graybaeismytae @mark-geolli @esloao @jaklvbub @sukistrawberry @raggedypansexual
back to masterlist !
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“Having fun?”
The music is loud, resonating off the walls and making your ears ring. But even if you barely hear your own thoughts over the noise, mingyu’s smooth voice fills your ears.
You change your weight from one foot to another, bringing the red cup to your lips and taking a sip of your drink. The alcohol isn’t cold anymore and you slightly grimace at the way it burns your throat when you decide to empty your cup. You pull the cup away from your mouth, bumping it deliberately against his before crossing your arms and looking up at him.
“Yeah. Even more so now that you’re here.”
His already pretty smile widens and his little vampire teeth appear as he throws his head back to laugh. Your mind is hazy from the alcohol and you’re a bit tipsy, glossy eyes staring at his neck. You always thought mingyu’s skin was so pretty.
Mingyu takes a look around the room before focusing on you again, leaning with his shoulder on the wall next to you. He’s tall and looking down at you, it makes you smile a little.
His heart beats in his chest at the sight of your cherry lips, still wet from the drink. He doesn’t think he’s seen you wearing this lip color before, recounting all the times you came to hangouts wearing anything else than lip balm. The color suits you though, he thinks.
Unconsciously, his eyes wander to your cup before landing on the white plastic rim, the red trace of your lip gloss making him shudder.
The glint in your eyes is mischievous when he makes eye contact with you again. He sees you looking him up and down and he has to yell at his own mind when certain thoughts enter his head. He can sense how you fill up with pride at the sight of him wearing the watch you just gifted him, eyebrows shooting up in surprise.
“You’re already wearing it?” your body turns to him a bit and he leans down even more at the same time, faces centimeters away from each other. He lifts his hand up with a grin, pushing his shirt sleeves up his arms even more when he notices you eyeing them.
This time, you smile so big Mingyu almost awes at the sight. You force yourself to stop smiling and look away but your happiness can be heard through your slightly playful voice. “The others wouldn’t be happy to hear that, y’know?”
Mingyu wiggles his fingers and flexes his arm, making you giggle and uncross your arms in the process. “Why wouldn’t I? It’s my favorite gift.”
He tilts his head to the side, ruffling his styled hair with his ring-clad hands. Mingyu isn’t much of a ring-wearer but when he does, it fills your stomach with butterflies– not that that doesn’t happen on a daily basis.
“Who said the others have to know?” His stare makes you feel weak, knees almost buckling under you. You lean back on the wall for support, something he definitely catches up onto with the way he smirks. “Let’s say this is our little secret, yeah?”
You blush when you realize he’s, again, wearing the rings you gifted him months prior for secret santa.
Mingyu turns to lean against the wall with his back, facing the crowd as he lets himself drown into the loud music and the warmth your body radiates, shoulders touching. Your friend crouches down a bit, legs stretching on the ground and head close to your neck. With a sigh, he plops his head on your shoulder, turning to hide against you. He grabs your hips and holds his arm around your waist, audibly whining against your neck.
You nod silently, picking at the rim of your cup. From how close the two of you are, Mingyu can count your lashes, admire your face and the way your lips curl into a smile when you see your friends having fun on the other side of the room.
His breath tickles your skin and you realize mingyu’s just as tipsy as you are.
“You know what Hoshi told me?” he starts off, voice small and softer than usual. You guess he’s a bit tired from partying all night. It’s only a few seconds later that you look at him, smiling and humming when he silently waits for an answer. “He said you had a second gift for me.”
The man, who’s supposed to be 6.1ft tall, seems to shrink even more at your question, pouting and eyebrows furrowing. He glares at you before his eyes turn soft, hugging your body from the side. “You know I didn’t mean it like that~” His voice is slurry and you laugh at him, patting his head and passing your fingers through his hair.
Ah Hoshi, he wouldn’t be himself if he didn’t go around spilling secrets and creating drama. You avert your eyes, suddenly finding the fabric of Mingyu’s shirt very interesting. “Is the watch not enough for you? ‘didn’t know you would be so greedy, gyu.”
You nod again, fixing a few strands of hair on top of his head. “I like your hair like this.”
“Yeah? You think I’m handsome?”
Mingyu abruptly gets up, rolling his shoulders back to stand up straighter. He lets out a mix between a gasp and a chuckle before turning towards a mirror near where you’re leaning against the wall. He passes his hand through his hair, going over the spots you didn't touch and paying extra attention to not mess up the ones you previously styled as he smiles. Suddenly, his tone turns confident as he examines himself in the glass, winking and adjusting the sleeves of his shirt.
You try your best to keep a straight face but the alcohol in your system makes it a difficult task. “Of course, you’re always handsome.”
Mingyu seems to light up at your words, a big smile on his face as he returns to where you are, choosing to lean against the wall on your other side. You know he’s up to something with the way he looks at you but you don’t question it– he’s mainly harmless so you have nothing to worry about.
To Mingyu's surprise, you don’t deny it. 
He taps his pointer finger on his chin, pursing his lips and giggling, “Could it be that you’re flirting with me?”
He swears he can see a teasing look in your eyes before it quickly disappears, making him gulp. He can’t even question you about it more before you’re intertwining your fingers together, holding his hand close and walking away from the wall. Mingyu feels like a puppy following his owner, tail wagging and tongue lolling out as he watches you drag him to the other room, discarding your empty cup on a random counter.
With a loud sigh, you plop down next to the armrest, dragging Mingyu down with you, squishing his big body between Hoshi and you. He looks at you and pouts as you let your head fall back on the couch, closing your eyes for a few seconds as the loud music resonates off the walls. 
When the two of you enter the living room, you’re not even surprised to see some of your friends gate-keeping the couches, seemingly playing a drinking game. Hoshi is one of the drunker ones and you walk past him to get to the bigger couch, ruffling his hair as he stares with empty eyes at a framed photo hung up on the wall. He’s still out of it so you quickly scratch the underside of his chin with your nails and he perks up, immediately scooting over to give you and Mingyu some space on the couch.
You feel Mingyu’s hand resting on your forearm, slowly dragging up and down as he intensely watches goosebumps rise up on your arm. When Hoshi seems to get dragged into a conversation between Joshua and Seungkwan, voices fill the room and you joyfully listen, letting Mingyu take your hand in his. 
His skin feels soft against yours and his thumb draws circles on the back of your hand. You turn towards him, leaning further against the armrest as he smiles at you. He’s cute you think, he’s always been cute. 
And then Mingyu brings your intertwined hands up to his mouth, kissing the back of your hand delicately and smiling into the sweet kiss.
His eyes sparkle, the party lights making him shine. His hair is ruffled from the many hugs he received from his friends and his cheeks are rosy from the alcohol.
Suddenly, it feels like you two are the only ones there, like there aren’t dozens of partygoers stumbling around Mingyu’s apartment. It’s weird, how you stare at each other in absolute delight, ignoring everyone around you as if Seungcheol wasn’t calling out both your names for a game of truth or dare.
It’s Mingyu who first snaps out of it, having been elbowed in the ribs by Hoshi next to him. He grumbles in pain but lifts himself off the couch anyways, extending his hand out to you and winking at you. You laugh and place your hand in his, his warmth sending shivers over your spine. 
Mingyu hoists you up from the couch and immediately wraps an arm around your waist, keeping you so close to him that your free hand lands on his chest. He tilts his head slightly and comes closer, mouth inches away from your ear. 
“I’m happy you came. Thank you.”
Mingyu pulls back with a slight blush on his cheeks, the tip of his ears read. A shy smile covers his lips and for a moment you’re not sure if you’re able to speak. You shallow and find your vocabulary again, thoughts racing in your mind. 
When you speak up, eyes locked into his, Mingyu thinks he could pass out from the sugary sweet tone in your voice. 
“I wouldn’t have missed it for anything.”
With a silent nod of his head in the direction of the hallway towards his friends, you put your hand in his again and lead the way, zigzagging between guests. 
“So, you really made out with that girl during summer camp? There’s no way that’s true.”
Laughter fills the room as you once again find yourself in the living room with Mingyu and his closest friends. At first, you had all followed one of the guys to the kitchen for a game of truth or dare until one of the partygoers threw up right on the stark white kitchen tiles, pausing the game and consequently pushing the group back to the sacred couches. 
Jun yells at Dino, hitting the latter on the shoulder and downing his drink. The younger one cackles, teasing Jun more for his confession. “Shut up, dickhead. I’m not saying anything else, just know that she was the one who initiated it.” 
His answer doesn’t convince Dino in the slightest and he just continues to laugh, falling backwards on the beanbag he’s currently occupying.
Mingyu’s laugh fills your ears, the joyful sound bringing a smile to your lips. You’re sitting right next to him again, but this time with your back to the armrest, one leg dangling off the couch and the other one blocked under the latter. Your heel digs into the skin of your thigh and unfortunately for you, it’s starting to feel like you have pins and needles in your legs.
You openly wince at the prickly sensation and squirm around, trying to release your hurt leg as you support yourself on the armrest, your feet on the floor slipping. Even with all the laughter and noise in the room– and Hoshi’s sudden barking, Mingyu notices and turns to you with worried eyes. You’re pouting without knowing it and he finds it hard to stare away from your lips, forcing himself to help instead.
What you didn’t expect however, was for him to pull your legs over his, in his lap, after you sat back down. You can feel your face heating up and you’re sure that your ears are full on red at this point. Mingyu knows the effect his action had on you, smirking while pretending like he’s absorbed by the current conversation– or more so an argument between Seungkwan and Dino about who used to have the best math grades in high school.
A gentle hand places itself on the side of your knee, helping you lift your leg as he guides you up with his other hand on your waist, respectfully and only after your nod of affirmation.
The boy continues to act like nothing is going on, seeming calm while his heart beats loudly in his chest. There is so much going on, the music resonating off the walls and friendly banter in the background, but Mingyu’s only focus is on the way your breath hitches when he hoists one of your legs up in his lap. He grabs onto your ankle, near the strap of your high heel and your leg soon joins the other one in his lap.
Mingyu’s being careful with his movements, unsure if he’s crossing a boundary or not– unsure if he just ruined one of his best friendships just because his heart couldn’t keep itself in check. But then you grin, eyes sparkling wide and radiant as you look at his hand on your ankle.
It’s a silent game of back and forth– Mingyu’s looking at you to see your reaction and you avoid his gaze, knowingly, to stare at his pretty hand running up and down your calf. Mingyu knows you would have said something if you disapproved of his action but he’s still feeling like a high school boy with a crush on someone for the first time, worrying about every small thing.
On the other hand, you are glowing, happiness and excitement radiating off you. You feel weird, butterflies erupting in your stomach as if you weren’t already aware of how much Mingyu could affect you– how he could make you fall in love with him over and over again.
Actually, if he thinks about it, he is a boy with a crush on someone– you, just not as a high school boy anymore since he graduated long ago.
You snap out of your little bubble, again, and for once you are grateful for Joshua. Because you’re almost hundred percent sure Mingyu was starting to trace hearts on your thigh. And you certainly didn’t know how much longer you could survive his constant flirting.
When your eyes lock, there’s a look and nod of agreement between you. And then his hand is on your upper thigh, thumb brushing circles on your skin.
“Truth or dare! Yn and Mingyu, you two are playing this round!”
Even with the guys’ screaming in the background, you hold eye contact with him for a little bit longer, just in time to see his eyebrows relax and his gaze soften before you’re diverting your eyes. 
“Isn’t truth or dare something you play in middle school?” You tease your friends, trying to lift yourself off the couch to sit up straighter so that other people can join and use the couch. Before you can do so and pull your legs off Mingyu’s lap, he stops you with a hand on your knee, looking at you with furrowed brows.
“Cmon Yn, truth or dare is a classic. Even us oldies have to play it once in a while!” Dino exclaims, unaware of the sudden tension rising from your couch.
A loud slap is heard before Dino winces, turning around to face the culprit as Scoups menacingly points at him, “Ya! Who are you calling old!” They continue to argue for a bit, with Dino calling the oldest, well, old and Scoups pushing the youngest off the beanbag and on the floor.
Normally, you would have paid more attention to it, the friendly banter bringing you much joy, but this time your mind is focused on something else.
If Mingyu tried to talk to you right now, you would barely be able to hear it over the loud music, but he doesn’t talk to you, his gaze tells you enough. “Don’t” is what you understand he’s trying to say and you let out a deep breath. He’s still staring at you, hand still on your knee and his eyes seem to be pleading you to stay.
At that moment, you realize you could probably never say no to Mingyu.
So you set your legs back down in his lap, readjusting your dress so that you don’t flash everybody. When Mingyu realizes you decided to stay, he sends you a big smile, teeth on display. And when he smiles at you like that, you would trade every couch in the damn world to see it a bit longer. You don’t even care anymore about the other party goers who might have wanted to join the game, Mingyu and you clearly taking up the whole couch, with a drunk Dk squished to Mingyu’s right side.
“Hey lovebirds! We said you two are playing, pay attention instead of staring at each other!” 
The game in itself isn’t that bothersome– your friends are mainly having fun, bickering and throwing each other under the bus when it comes to revealing not so important secrets. It’s pretty entertaining to watch and you take pleasure in it, but you can’t concentrate fully on Jeonghan’s story about how he saw his high school math teacher and science teacher, both married with kids, making out together in the science lab ten years prior. And all that because of the eyes boring into the side of your head. 
You huff when you still feel his eyes on you after Woozi downed his drink, poking Mingyu in the ribs. A quiet yelp leaves his mouth and you smirk, triumphantly, crossing your arms proudly, chin high. 
That is until Minghao turns towards you, pinky lifting from his glass and pointing your way. “Yn, truth or dare?” 
Your cheeks grow hot, being caught off guard as you sink into the armrest of the couch. You take a moment to think. You know Minghao isn’t the type to completely humiliate you if you decided to choose dare, he’s actually rather laidback with you, but you also remember accidentally spilling his last cup of his favorite tea right on his lap when you all went to visit his new apartment a week prior. And since Minghao’s pretty protective of his tea, you’d prefer to avoid walking right into the cage of a wild and unpredictable animal. 
And as the red-haired boy looks at you, waiting for your answer with a slight smirk on his face, you’re sure you made the right choice. 
“Truth. I don’t want to leave this place covered in a mix of glitter and cereal or something.” 
Truth it is. And could Truth possibly do even any harm?
Minghao hums, taking a last sip of his drink before finally speaking up. “Wise choice. Or not. Yn, of all the people in this room, who’s the guy you’re crushing on?” 
Okay, so apparently Truth can do a lot of harm. 
Your eyes widen, your mouth falling open in sock as everyone turns to look at you, some whispering between themselves and some even giggling. 
You definitely did not think this through enough. 
Mighao tilts his head a bit and you don’t waste a second more before you’re reaching forward to grab your shot glass off the table, “Pass”. In your haste, you forget that you’re basically sitting sideways on the couch and that you don’t have any support under you as you move your upper body off the couch, eventually losing balance and falling forward. 
But before you can hit the coffee table with full force, an arm snakes around your waist, holding you up and bringing you back on the couch. Mingyu’s hand is holding onto your hip firmly, his fingers dipping into the fabric of your dress. 
There’s a sudden silence as your friends look from you to Mingyu, then back to you. You turn your head towards your ‘savior’ and directly make eye-contact, the close position and the strong scent of his cologne making you dizzy. 
Your face heats up, again, and you quickly grab your glass from the table, downing it and returning to your seat, hands clasped tightly together. Minghao eyes the now empty shot glass and chuckles, “Hiding something?” 
You glare at him, “It’s one question only, Minghao.” You forgot sometimes how infuriatingly teasing he can be. 
The next round of truth and dare goes more smoothly, nobody’s falling to the ground and there are no questions regarding anyone’s love life– if you don’t take into account Joshua asking Hoshi if his sister is still single. 
You don’t know how much time passes but you feel at ease on the black couch, leaning the side of your head against the backrest as you continue to enjoy the nice and friendly atmosphere. The guys have now changed to another game in a smaller group, while the others thought it was a good idea to start playing Mario Kart.
The music changes to a slower genre when the clock hits 2am and you decide that maybe it’s time to get another drink, the alcohol leaving your system a bit too soon for your liking.
With a sudden boost of energy, you swing your legs off Mingyu’s lap and stand up, kneeling down to stack the empty shot glasses and bring them with you to the kitchen. While you’re doing so, you feel a tug at the bottom of your dress. Mingyu pulls the hem of your dress down as you lean over and he makes sure no one can sneak a glance under your short  outfit. 
You turn to him with difficulty, the stacked shot glasses in your hands and your heels almost knocking over a plastic cup on the ground. Mingyu looks up at you, hair brushed back and arm resting on the back of the couch. He waits for you to speak and you smile softly. “Want a drink?” 
The corners of his mouth turn up and he gets up from the couch, taking the shot glasses from your hands. “I’ll go with you, if that’s ok.” 
You nod, and almost notice the faint blush on Mingyu’s cheek, “Of course.”
The music is still playing through the heavy speakers in each corner of the room, the lights of the TV casts a colorful glow over Mingyu’s living room and the chatter of every party goer doesn’t go unnoticed as you two make your way out of the room, stepping over the many empty cups on the wooden floor and into the less crowded hallway.
There aren’t really a lot of people in the hallway, but most of them are walking from one room to another, making it a hassle to peacefully cross the hallway without bumping into someone. It’s loud and the people occupying the little space aren’t exactly making it easy to enter the kitchen. 
Mingyu sees the mess before you do, taking all the shot glasses in one hand and grabbing your hand with the other. His back is creating a wall between you and the ‘danger’ in the hallway, and before you know it, Mingyu’s pushing forward, bumping into drunk party goers to make it through. He quickly creates a path, one that is safe to take as he pushes away the cups and beer bottles on the ground away and to the side, craning his arm so that you’re close to his back and following him.
When a very drunk– and probably high, guy stumbles out of a random room and directly into Mingyu’s shoulder, the shot glasses nearly fall to the floor, earning a panicked gasp from the owner. The guy doesn’t even bother to say sorry, looking past the both of you with a dead gaze as he tumbles forward, weak legs bringing him to the living room.
You whip your head around, smelling the awful stench coming from the guy and bring your hand up to cover your mouth. When he’s out of sight, you sneak one last glance to where he disappeared off to and tsks. “Asshole.” 
Mingyu’s laugh brings your eyes back to him, puzzled. He just squeezes your hand, sending you a smile over his shoulder. 
As you two finally arrive at your destination, the kitchen, your eyes widen in horror. It seems that there are even more people in the small kitchen than in the living room, which is already crowded enough. There’s not even enough space to navigate properly, people choosing to squeeze themselves between other people to get to the exit, spilling bits of their newly-filled drink. You hear Mingyu sigh– the cleanup the morning after is gonna be a tough one.
“Hey, why don’t you wait for me here? I’ll go in alone and come back with the drinks.” Mingyu turns to you, the shot glasses carefully leaning against his chest. 
Mingyu watches as you glance around the hallway and then around him, into the kitchen. You bite your lip, showing you’re becoming a bit anxious and he furrows his eyebrows. His smile quickly falters, showing concern right away. “You okay?” 
You look up at him as he turns fully towards you, almost blocking the doorway to the kitchen. You pass your hands over your dress, flattening out the non-existent wrinkles. “Yeah, it’s just starting to feel a bit too stuffy in here..”
Mingyu hums, raising his head to look at the end of the hallway, where the door to the balcony is situated. When he returns his gaze to you, he tilts his head cutely, licking his lips. “You wanna wait by the balcony? I told the guests not to go on there too much so that i won’t get a noise complaint from the neighbors. I think it’s safe if you go there.” 
With a smile, you nod at Mingyu, “yeah, that would be great. Thanks.” You place one of your hands on the wall next to the kitchen before leaning in so he hears you better over the music. “Don’t die in there by the way! We haven’t even gone to Iceland yet like we planned to years ago– it would be a waste for you to miss out on our extravagant bucket list, right?”
Mingyu’s laugh fills your ears, the sound making you smile from ear to ear. “C’mon, who do you take me for? Seok– Oh sorry.” Mingyu cuts himself off, lifting his two hands in the air with one still holding all the shot glasses. The girl, who just bumped into Mingyu, and who you recognize as one of your classmates from your major, pushes her hair behind her ear, blushing at your friend. 
Before she leaves, she mumbles a few words, but the music is way too loud for you to make out what it was, and then she’s gone. 
You don’t pay too much attention to it, as does Mingyu, who’s already back to look at you. It’s not the first and certainly not the last time someone is going to bump into one of you two at his party. 
“Sorry, what were you saying?” You turn back to Mingyu, crossing your arms and making the silver necklace you’re currently wearing shine even more under the flashy led lights. 
“Ah, sweetheart, you never listen do you?” Mingyu brings his free hand up to your jaw, tapping on the underside of your chin with his index finger. “I said, you need to stop biting your lips when you’re nervous. They’re too pretty for that.” 
You can’t speak, your entire vocabulary having left your body. His hand then turns to cup the underside of your jaw, his thump grazing over your bottom lip, ultimately smudging a bit of your lipgloss. Your mouth falls open a bit at the shock but he doesn’t stop. “A pretty color.. for pretty lips. Suiting.” His thumb sweeps one last time over your lip before he retreats into the kitchen. 
“Wait for me by the balcony, I'll grab our drinks for us.” 
— 
The temperature outside is completely different from the stuffy warmth inside the small apartment, the cold breeze making you shiver. You’re not a fan of the winter, or the cold in general, but when it’s almost 3am and your cheeks are red from being around Mingyu, the weather is probably the only thing keeping you sane. 
You think it’s captivating outside– how the moon shines and provides you enough light, how the silence from nature and the muffled sounds from the party mix together, how the wind blows your hair around and makes you tremble. You like it all.
There’s a calming atmosphere around it. You don’t feel as edgy as before and you mentally thank Mingyu for allowing you to use his sacred space for your own benefit. 
If you truly think about it, you had come to the party with no real intentions, but as the night goes by, you find yourself yearning for more. 
You find yourself yearning for Mingyu. You suppose it’s not entirely a bad thing– it’s also not the first time. 
You’re leaning over the balcony railing, looking down to the street at the foot of his apartment building. The concrete tiles are darker than usual, and wet– you were too absorbed by the party to even notice it was raining outside. The water droplets on the railing are cold against the skin of your forearms but you just clench your jaw through it. In a way, it wakes you up.
Your eyes are closed as you hum to the melodies of the pop song playing inside, chin propped up on your palm. You don’t know how long you rest your eyes, but you missed Mingyu’s voice when he opens the door to the balcony, stepping out of the apartment and smiling your way.
“Sleepy?” You just tilt your head, eyes still closed. You do turn towards him as you feel his presence behind you. 
You realize Mingyu always smiles when he’s looking at you and butterflies race in your stomach. 
Your hands are on the slippery metal railing as you lean back against it, the water droplets staining the lower back of your dress. It’s cold against your skin and you shiver, suddenly, and Mingyu notices, immediately stepping closer to you. 
“Just a bit out of energy.” 
Mingyu closes the balcony door behind him, swiftly setting down the two newly-filled plastic cups on a wobbly garden table in the corner and joining you. He stands in front of you, hands in his pockets and smirking down at you. You gulp, feeling like his prey. 
“Why’s that?” His tone doesn’t show an ounce of concern. Probably because he knows he has nothing to worry about. 
You’re not a jealous person, truly. You’re relatively confident when it comes to your relationships and friendships and have never deemed it necessary to throw a tantrum about your partner and who he talks to. To be fair, your last relationship was quite a while ago, but you still stand by your own beliefs. 
So, feeling a tiny bit of jealousy creep up when your classmate– the one who had previously bumped into Mingyu– walked up to him in the kitchen and laid her perfectly manicured hand on his bicep was an entirely new thing for you. 
You had even questioned yourself if you had the right to be jealous. You and Mingyu weren’t even together! 
The fact that you could watch what was happening right from your spot on the balcony didn’t help you either– your curious self being unable to stop watching while your mind was telling you to think about happy moments– aka moments where Mingyu showed he was definitely more interested in you than in the party or your classmate. 
So even though the little angel on your shoulder tried to avert your eyes from the crime scene, the manipulation play from the little devil on your other shoulder was a bit too convincing for your liking. In conclusion, you found yourself staring at the entire event. 
Frankly, nothing happened. On Mingyu’s part at least. The girl however, let’s say she was just trying to get to know him (a lie you’re definitely not telling yourself to keep calm).
Honestly, you weren’t paying much attention at first. It’s Mingyu’s birthday party, of course people will go up to him and congratulate him. But when the girl– you honestly don’t even remember her name– leaned towards him and put her hand on his chest, on the same spot where your hand had been moments prior, you knew this was more than a simple “happy birthday!”. 
Was it foul to only remember the way Mingyu’s smile seemed fake, the way he slowly backed away from her presence, and the way he rushed back to you? If it was, you couldn’t care less.
The two drinks he brought back were still sitting on the old table, untouched as if forgotten. 
Mingyu’s a bit too close for your liking. You can probably start counting his lashes– or the sparkles in his eyes. But when you open your mouth to joke, so that the tension could leave your body, Mingyu interrupts you and gets even closer. 
His tone is serious but you know he’s enjoying this, the corner of his mouth tilting up. “Were you jealous?” 
You hate how good Mingyu knows you, and you hate the effect he currently has on you, even though you would normally bathe in it. 
You know he knows, so there’s really no need to lie. Even more so when one of the reasons why he rushed back to you was because your eyes met when he was getting your drinks, and he saw you biting your lip. And you know now he doesn’t like it when you do that. 
You lean back against the railing even more, the metal digging into your skin as your heart starts to speed up. Your sudden shyness doesn’t waver his interest in the slightest and he only takes a step forward, backing you up against the railing. 
“What are you going to do if I say I was?” 
At that, Mingyu chuckles, looking to the side before hanging his head down. When he looks at you again, his hand finds its way to your cheek and he carefully brushes over the blush adorning your skin. 
The only thing you hear is a small ‘cute’ uttered under his breath before he retracts his hand and puts both of them on the railing behind you, trapping you between him and the end of the balcony.
Mingyu caught you, literally, and there’s not much you can do to stop him from getting what he wants. So you opt the easy way out, speaking the truth. “I was jealous, yeah. For the first time ever actually.” 
His smile grows even wider. “Do you love me that much, darling?” 
You don’t give him an answer this time, because you know he’s not really waiting for one. He knows and that’s enough for him, now. He also doesn’t really have the correct mindset to play this game with you at his party. The few glasses of alcohol you both took earlier are probably a bit at fault too. 
You clear your throat and he speaks up again, voice a bit rougher than earlier. “I guess Hoshi didn’t lie when he told me you liked me that much that you would have prepared two gifts for me.”
“You know Hoshi almost always lies.” You let go of the railing, hands finding their way to Mingyu’s waist, fiddling with his leather belt.  
You hear him inhale sharply, looking up to the sky for a short moment before focusing on you again, and definitely not on your hands. 
To fight back against the aggressive butterflies causing havoc in his stomach, Mingyu pulls you towards him, one hand on your lower back and the other one squeezing the fat at your hip. He’s in total control, and he’s confident about it too– you couldn’t even blame him for it. 
“Oh, almost always? So he’s not lying this time?” Mingyu leans down again, faces inches away from each other, to the point where you could just close the distance between the two of you with a small movement of the head. “Because I do think there’s some truth to it, sweetheart.” 
Your hair swings in the wind, and even though it’s cold, you want to stay with Mingyu as long as possible. His body feels warm under your fingertips and you almost gasp when he pushes you against the railing, his hand protecting your lower back from digging into the cold, wet metal. 
A short silence fills the air and you don’t know what to do except look away, your face growing hotter and hotter with every minute. Mingyu doesn’t talk either, too busy staring down at you. He makes a mental list in his head of all the things he loves about you, adoring you with his eyes while the music inside resonates from the glass door. 
You look away because you can feel him stare, and you wouldn’t know how to react if you were to make eye contact, since the effect Mingyu has on you is continuously making your knees buckle under you. 
“Were you interested?”, you suddenly ask, voice much quieter than before. It takes Mingyu a few seconds to realize what you’re talking about when you don’t meet his eyes, deciding to rather look at his shoes instead. 
He thought he had made it clear– clearer than anything else– but he didn’t expect you to suddenly shy away while in his arms and close to his chest, all because some girl tried to flirt with him. Deep down, you know he isn’t (if he was, he wouldn’t be with you right now, risking at least a three day-long fever) but you want him to say it. 
Mingyu just tilts his head a bit, a soft smile on his face as he tries to show you you have nothing to worry about. “Not in her, no.”
This time you smile back, a quiet ‘good’ falling off your lips as you place your hands on his forearms, palming his muscles through the sleeves. “Just wanted to make sure, y’know.”
He knows. 
Now it’s his turn to ask questions though.
“Why didn’t you say anything during Truth or Dare?” The question comes off strong, completely out of nowhere and causing your eyes to widen in shock. You weren’t expecting him to mention the game and how much you had embarrassed yourself.
You’re quick to answer though, in all honesty. “Because the others didn’t have to know.”
Mingyu smirks, liking the way your face heats up whenever he does or says something. He feels like your eyes can’t take him in wholly, going from one part to another frantically as they slide over his upper body. “And can I?” 
Your eyebrows furrow after his teasing tone makes an appearance again and he has to stop himself from letting out a chuckle. You’re almost pouting too, lower lip jutting out and unintentionally showing off your pretty lipgloss. You cross your arms, nails digging in your own forearms as the cold suddenly takes over you again. “I think it’s pretty obvious, don’t you think?”
A beat of silence, and then, “I want you to say it.”
He’s begging for it, pleading eyes boring into yours. His voice sounds somewhat more whiny as he starts to rub your sleeveless arms, making the goosebumps disappear. It’s not the first time you’ve seen Mingyu use his puppy eyes, he usually brings them out when someone teases him or when he needs something, and today, it’s the latter. 
Once again, you find yourself unable to refuse Mingyu anything. 
“I should have said your name when Minghao asked.”
Then he’s smiling again, happy you finally (kinda) admitted what you two should have confessed months earlier. He didn’t think you would give in so quickly, making him beam in excitement. His eyes are full of joy and his cheeks are rosy– you like to think it’s because of what you said, but the alcohol could still be playing a part in it.
You didn’t even feel tipsy anymore, no blurred vision or imperfect balance. It’s the first time you’ve sobered up so quickly, and you entirely thank Mingyu for it. 
You truly don’t know how much time passed since you stepped foot onto the balcony, the cold weather dragging every minute out but Mingyu’s presence speeding everything up. The music seemed to have calmed down a lot since the beginning of the night, and when you glance around Mingyu and into the apartment, you notice you can actually now make out the furniture and picture frames in the hallway. The kitchen and hallway are mainly empty but you can still hear chatter and laughter coming from the living room, concluding the rest of the guests are probably scattered all over the couches.
When your thoughts are all over the place, a slight pinch at your hip wakes you up, bringing you back to reality– on the balcony, and still in Mingyu’s arms. He chuckles, smoothing down your dress where he pinched you, rubbing over the now sore spot as you slowly wince. 
He looks behind him, into his apartment, where you were previously staring at and comes to the same conclusion as you. 
You’re all alone, with no one around. 
That thought alone makes him gulp. Fuck, was he always this nervous around girls?
It’s a silly question, because he knows he’s only ever that nervous when it comes to you.
He’s nervous, but he still craves for more so he focuses on you again. On your pretty eyes and how much they glisten in the moonlight. On your soft hair and how perfectly his hand fits in the nape of your neck, playing with a few strands. On your pretty lips and how he wishes he could just kiss away the lipgloss, so that you’d have to apply it again and he could then mess it up again.  
Mingyu needs you now, and if that means speaking without a filter, then so be it– a sacrifice he’s more than willing to give. 
“Are you going to kiss me now?”
You giggle and he feels dumb. But then you smile so deeply that he falls in love all over again. And he thinks you’re with no doubt the most beautiful soul he’s ever met. 
Your hands start to travel back up from his forearms to his biceps, before landing on his shoulders, where they squeeze his muscles, the tension in them all too familiar. You eye him, entirely this time, taking your time to appreciate every single part of him. 
You stare a bit too long at his neck and Mingyu blushes, unaware of how he’s supposed to react to this sudden onslaught of attention. Your hands move up to his jaw, holding his face close to yours as you stroke both his cheeks. 
You truly have him twisted around your finger. 
“Do you want me to?” It's an unnecessary question, but you want him to say it– just like Mingyu wanted you to before. Mingyu thinks he’s on the verge of collapsing, the only thing still keeping him upright are your hands on him and his on your waist and the railing. 
He’s desperate as he catches both of your wrists and kisses them each, before bringing your right arm up to wrap around his neck. He’s slow but determined and it sends shivers down your spine. Your nails scratch against the nape of his neck and he groans, clearly affected by it– by you. 
“Please, Yn.”
Your left arm soon joins the other one around his neck and Mingyu has to mentally restrain himself from rushing whatever good is supposed to happen. When both your arms are loosely hanging around his neck, your bodies are closer than ever, chests pressed against each other, warmth engulfing you entirely.  
Your sweet voice is the last thing he hears before his mind circuits. “Guess it’s time for your second gift then.”
And then you’re standing on your tip-toes, closing the small distance between you two and finally, finally stopping the seemingly endless torture. 
Your lips smash against his and it’s so aggressive because you can’t control yourself anymore. His lips feel soft and delicate against yours and you think you might end up breaking them– you wish you would. 
Mingyu holds a strong grip onto your waist, his arm circling around it to make sure you don’t shy away again. His other hand is on the side of your neck, holding onto your face as he pushes you against the balcony railing. 
One of the first things he notices is your raspberry flavored lip gloss– which he swears he knows he will never get enough of– and the slight hint of alcohol on your lips. It’s enamoring, enticing and everything he’s ever wanted. 
You run out of breath quickly but you don’t stop, you refuse to, physically unable to separate yourself from him. It’s Mingyu who backs away first, leaving you desperate for more, chasing after his lips. You gasp for air, head spinning at the utterly new but heavenly feeling while Mingyu attacks your neck, jaw, and everything that could make your eyes roll back.
Your hands are gripping onto his shirt, nails clawing at his back as Mingyu takes pleasure in pressing kisses onto your skin, going from your neck down to your cleavage and stopping when his chin grazes the fabric of your dress.
Mingyu groans when you pull at his hair, biting and sucking at your neck before planting a last kiss on your collarbone, quickly coming back up to your lips. He swears he can’t live anymore without kissing you. 
You drag Mingyu closer to you by the collar of his shirt, and then he’s kissing you again. His lips were determined and unrelenting, not letting go of you. He was addicted, goosebumps taking over his body as he bit down on your lower lip. You whined at the metal taste in your mouth, craning your neck for more. 
Mingyu chuckled against your lips, kissing them slowly before sliding his tongue against your lower lip to soothe the bite. He’s barely leaving you alive, completely breathless but still– always–  aching for more. 
His mouth was devouring you and you just couldn’t get enough– both of you, too absorbed in your own little bubble to even notice the weather was becoming gradually worse, rain falling out of the sky in a downpour. 
His tongue slid against your lips, again, before entering your mouth. Your hands holding onto Mingyu’s shoulders weren’t enough to get you anchored, legs trembling as he held onto your waist, muscles flexing. 
Mingyu’s warmth surrounded you completely, to the point where you felt like you couldn't breathe properly. Mingyu had taken full control over you, as your mind was a total mess, and you were just able to follow his movements and beg for more.
You gripped onto his bicep as you arched your back, the rain drenching both of you to the core– not that you really cared anyway, the way Mingyu’s tongue fought with yours was what truly mattered. 
You were ruined– completely and devastatingly ruined for everyone who wasn’t Mingyu.  
Then he eventually parted from you, pressing one sweet kiss to your mouth and you almost teared up when you felt him smile against your lips. 
Mingyu was beautiful, soaking wet hair sticking to his forehead, cheeks and the tip of his ears spark red and his lips swollen, red and plump from kissing you. His chest is heaving as you stare up at him, not caring in the slightest about the rain messing up your makeup and outfit. 
His hands slowly lift up to your face, holding it so softly your heart skips a beat. His thumb sweeps over your cheekbone and he leans towards you, nuzzling your nose with his. 
Mingyu’s eyes literally shine and your lips part in awe.
You stare too much but Mingyu doesn’t force you to look away, because he’s sure he’s staring just as much. 
It’s only when you lean back into his arms that Mingyu notices the lingering taste of raspberry on his lips. He grins and he hopes that your lip color stained his lips, so that when you go back inside, your friends know that you’re his now– not that they weren’t aware before. 
And when you lift your head to look at him, arms circled around his waist, your smudged lipgloss is enough to make him want more. 
“Happy fucking birthday to me.”
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ewanmitchellcrumbs · 2 months
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Gīsītsos (little ghost)
Pairing: Aemond Targaryen x f!reader Warnings: Fingering, dubcon, smut. Word count: ~3.7k
Summary: As part of the Red Keep's serving staff, she knows it is better to remain unseen by the family she tends to. Unfortunately for her, an incident involving the second of the Targaryen sons means his gaze is now firmly fixed upon her.
Author's note: For @targaryen-dynasty's sleepover challenge. I was given the AU "meet cute" and the prompt "we have to be quiet". I have put my own little spin on both of these to suit my preference for canon and my particular writing style. No tag list. Follow @fics-by-ewanmitchellcrumbs and turn on notifications. Community labels are for cops.
There is an unspoken rule among the serving staff of the Red Keep; remain unseen and unheard whenever possible. Move as a spectre through the castle, do not draw attention to the mess you are employed to clean up. Those they serve do not wish to be reminded of their imperfections. Blissful ignorance is placed upon the pristine condition of the chambers they return to at the end of each day. They have always been that way, how could they not be? But beneath it lies an undercurrent of I do not wish to see it, do not make me look.
She is content to remain out of sight and mind of the Targaryen family, though her work is thankless, there is serenity to be found in the duties of a maidservant. As long as she completes the tasks assigned to her, then she is otherwise unbothered, and she considers herself fortunate to have a comparatively easy workload to some of the others.
The maidservants that attend to Prince Aegon’s bedchamber are ordered to work in pairs, partly because the mess he so often leaves behind is work enough for two, but also because he is known to sleep late, and there is safety in numbers. A chill runs down her spine at the memory of the whisperings that had passed between the staff about Dyana, brought before the Queen and forced to drink moon tea, before being relieved of her employment from the Keep. From that point on, the maidservants were forbidden from entering his rooms alone, lest they find themselves victim of the Prince’s wandering hands and lustful appetite.
There is no such danger to be found within the sleeping quarters of Prince Aemond, which she is in charge of tending to each day. He makes her job almost too easy, but she does not allow her guilt to weigh heavily enough upon her that she would ask for additional duties, instead she gives thanks to the Seven for this small mercy and ensures she finishes each day having completed her tasks to an impeccable standard. 
As she tugs the crisp white sheets of the bed firmly back into place each morning, there is no lingering body heat or scent to be found, indicating he has been awake for hours. She wonders if he sleeps at all, considering the unrumpled state of his bedding. When she strips the sheets off to change them once a week, there are no personal effects that fall loose, no trace that the Prince she serves exists at all. He is as much an apparition as she is.
When she is finished making up the bed or delivering the old sheets to the laundress, she sweeps the ashes from the hearth and readies the fireplace for Aemond’s return. Aside from that, there is little else to do besides lightly dust the shelves and reorganise the books placed upon his table. She never once sees the Prince, nor does he see her.
The most strenuous of jobs is the one she currently finds herself doing; the once weekly wash of the bedchamber floor, which requires her to get down upon her hands and knees with a brush and scrub the flagstones with a mixture of hot water and lye. The floor is hard upon her knees, her back aching, and knuckles sore from the combination of the soap and how tightly she grips the brush.
Satisfied that there is not an inch left unclean, she drops the scrubbing brush into the bucket, groaning softly as her knees twinge in protest as she stands. She swipes at the perspiration upon her forehead with the back of her hand, before reaching behind her to soothe ache in her lower back.
She freezes as her elbow collides with something on the desk, her heart feeling as though it stops beating within her chest as she hears the heavy splash of it fall into the bucket behind her, splattering dirty water against her skirt.
Snapping herself out of her shock, she quickly turns, seeing she has knocked a book from the table into the water she had been using to wash the floor. Dread swirls in her belly as she stoops to lift it out, her mind running rampant with thoughts of how much trouble she’ll be in if she has ruined one of Prince Aemond’s belongings. At best, she would lose her job. At worst, she is unsure, but she does not wish to fall foul of the man that rides the world’s largest dragon.
Drying off the leatherbound cover with her apron, she is relieved to see her swift action has prevented any serious damage, though the pages within are sodden. She cannot return it to the desk in this condition, so she tucks the book under her arm and picks up the bucket, walking quickly out of the Prince’s chambers, and back towards the servants’ quarters. If she can get it dried and return it in time, then hopefully he will be none the wiser to her mishap.
The scullion keeps the fire in the shared space ablaze all day, and she settles in front of it, opening the dampened book, careful not to place it so close that the parchment might singe. Happy to see the water has not soaked through far enough to smudge the ink, she turns the pages carefully while they dry, her eyes scanning the words. It is a tome of philosophy, far beyond the realm of her comprehension. It serves as a reminder of the divide between her and the Prince, she is beneath such intellectual pursuits. She imagines he would be infuriated that a lowly maidservant would ever dare to read it, and finds herself hunching over the book as it dries, subconsciously concealing it from view, as though she is engaging in something forbidden and shameful.
After an hour, the heat of the fire has returned the book to its original state, or at least as close as it’s going to get. She makes haste to return it to where it belongs, hoping that Prince Aemond will not yet have returned to his chambers. Her skin is heated, a combination of having been so close to the open fireplace for an hour and nervousness at the idea of being caught.
She enters the bedchamber without knocking, expecting it to still be empty, and moves swiftly on light feet, returning the book back to the desk it had laid upon previously.
“An enjoyable read, was it?”
The voice is soft, yet its sinister edge sends a shiver up her spine, causing her breath to catch in her throat. She turns slowly, keeping her head bowed, not daring to meet the unblinking stare of the One Eyed Prince.
“Your Grace,” she utters meekly, “please accept my apologies. I did not mean to intrude.”
“And you did not answer my question either.”
She dares to look up then, watching in wide eyed horror as he walks slowly towards her, dressed in his sparring attire, his expression impassive.
Swallowing thickly, ignoring everything within her that desperately wants to lower her gaze, she forces herself to hold it. “I did not read it, I swear, I would never be so discourteous.”
“Hm,” he murmurs, standing tall in front of her, “a pity. ‘Tis an interesting text. So, tell me, what were you doing with it?”
He is standing so close to her, she can feel the tickle of his breath upon her flesh, see the angry, red indentation of the scar that runs the length of the left hand side of his face, disappearing beneath the leather patch that covers his eye. There is something in the way he looks at her that makes her want to shrink into herself, but she fears she has forever shrugged off the shroud of invisibility that has until now protected her. His eye is piercing, a silent threat. I see you.
She considers lying, but decides it will be worse for her than simply telling the truth, if he catches her out. “I…I accidentally got the book wet while I was cleaning. I took it away to the servants’ quarters to dry it.”
Aemond leans his body into hers, and she can feel the warmth that radiates from his chest, smell the sweat that lingers on his skin from his exertion in the training yard. She screws her eyes shut, icy fingers of fear gripping her insides as she awaits her punishment, but then the heat of him is gone.
Slowly opening her eyes, she sees that he is still standing in front of her, but his attention is now focused upon his book as he flips through the pages, studying it for signs of damage. He had simply reached behind her to retrieve it. The relief that floods her is enough to make her want to laugh, but she knows better, biting it back as she exhales heavily through her nose.
Satisfied that his book is unruined, he snaps it shut, holding it with both hands as he looks at her once more. “Are you always this clumsy?”
She gapes at this, white hot embarrassment radiating from head to toe. “N-no, never. It was an accident, Your Grace, I swear it.”
He smirks, cocking his head. “Perhaps I ought to keep a closer eye on you?”
Please, no.
She wants to leave, to be away from the intensity of how he looks upon her, to have him forget her face and allow her to go back to being invisible.
“I promise I will take greater care in future, Your Grace. I apologise. Can I go?”
He raises an eyebrow at this. “I do not know. Can you?”
This is humiliating. Is he getting some sort of satisfaction from this?
“If that will be all, Your Grace.”
She bows her head to him and hurries from the room, feeling her heartbeat in her throat with every step that she takes. She can sense his eye upon her, boring a hole into the back of her, long after she has left his chambers, and it fills her with a sense of unease for the rest of the day. Her only solace is that she can return to her duties upon the morrow without having to see him.
However, as she enters the bedchamber the following morning she is horrified to find the Seven have decided her spell of good fortune has come to its end. Prince Aemond still occupies the space, standing at the foot of the bed as he fastens his tunic. Halting her steps, she lingers uncertainly, not knowing what she ought to do.
He stares at her as he continues to dress, not making any moves to alleviate her discomfort, and she takes a tentative step back.
“Should I come back?” She asks warily, glancing over her shoulder towards the door - it has never appeared so inviting.
“No need,” he assures her, “do what you need to.”
She hesitates a moment longer, but realising she is in no position to protest, she begins the task of turning down the bed. She can feel him looking at her the entire time, making her feel self conscious. There has never been an audience to spectate over her daily tasks before, and she moves as though she is suspended in honey, afraid to make a mistake while he is watching, despite the fact that these are duties she has performed hundreds of times before.
To her frustration, he moves as slowly as she does, unhurriedly clasping on his sword belt and pulling on his boots, watching her all the while, but never speaking a word. It is not until she begins sweeping away the ashes from the fireplace that he finally takes his leave, silently striding from the room without addressing her further.
For the first time since she entered Aemond’s chambers that morning she feels as though she can breathe, although a voice in the back of her mind tells her she has not seen the last of Aemond, and he certainly has no desire to see less of her.
Over the next few days, he is there every time she arrives, either in the process of dressing, or still laying in bed, causing her to turn away, ashamed at the way excitement flutters in her lower belly at the sight of his well defined bare chest.
He is doing this on purpose, she knows he is, abusing the imbalance of power between them, because she cannot ask him to stop. He is not really even doing anything wrong; it is not uncommon for maidservants to be in the presence of those they serve as they perform their duties, yet there is something about this that feels completely improper. The way his stare lingers upon her, stalking her as though she is prey, it both frightens her and fills her with a sense of mortification, because she knows that, deep down, there is a part of her that likes the fact that his attention is on her. The veil between them has been lifted, and now that she has gotten to know what resides on the other side, at least a little, she thinks of nothing else. It is both exciting and terrifying to have someone in such a position of authority so interested in her and what she does.
It is the day she strips the bed in order to place fresh sheets upon it, and she enters the bedchamber prepared to have to wait for the Prince to vacate it first. However, she finds that he is already gone for the day. Unsure if it is relief or disappointment that she feels, she immediately begins to pull back the bedding, deciding she would prefer not to dwell on the hollow feeling that has settled within her chest.
As she tugs the bedsheet loose from beneath the corner of the mattress, a small piece of parchment flutters from it, landing softly on the flagstones beside the wooden bedframe. Nothing has ever fallen from Aemond’s bed before, he is much too tidy, and so her curiosity is immediately piqued.
Plucking it from the floor, her mouth runs dry at the words she finds penned delicately in black ink.
Though I am absent, I think of you.
Was this meant for her to find? She feels foolish for considering such a notion, and yet she cannot shift the idea that it might be. Her hands shake as she holds the note, her mind reeling with thoughts of what she ought to do with it: keep it, cast it into the fireplace, put it back and pretend she has not seen it?
The latter is impossible, he would notice the fresh sheets upon the bed and know that she has found it. Perhaps she is being presumptuous, and this has been left for him by a bedmate? She decides to simply place it upon the desk, and leave it up to the Prince to decide its fate.
Though she attempts to continue her day as normal, thoughts of Aemond and the contents of his note will not allow her any peace. She wonders if it is indeed her that he is thinking of, and if it would satisfy him to know that he haunts her mind in equal measure. If only she had never knocked that wretched book into the bucket, then she would be free of this torment.
Aemond is fully clothed as she walks into his rooms the following day, standing beside his desk. There is absolutely no reason for him to linger, but she knows precisely why he does, her suspicions confirmed when she spies the note clasped between his fingers.
“You read it?” He asks, lifting his gaze to meet hers as she enters.
“Was I not supposed to?” She asks quietly, setting down the basket which contains the brushes and rags she uses for sweeping and dusting.
“I left it where only you would find it,” he retorts, allowing the parchment to flutter back down upon the desk. “What do you think?”
“I do not know, Your Grace,” she responds simply, attempting to keep her focus on meticulously unloading her supplies.
“Leave that,” he orders coolly. “Come here.”
She trembles as she steps slowly towards him, and he rounds on her, caging her between himself and the desk, its wooden edge biting into her lower back.
“You are beautiful,” he breathes, brushing a stray strand of hair away from her face. 
The trace of his fingertip leaves a trail of heat in its wake. She feels dizzy, overwhelmed, the urge to run and her body’s insistence at remaining rooted to the spot at direct odds with one another.
“Please,” she whispers, “do not. It is improper.”
His hand drops to his side and he regards her with a look of amusement. “I am not my brother. I will not take anything that is not given freely. But I suspect you want this as much as I do. Tell me I am wrong.”
“Your Grace, I–I…”
The words die in her throat, what can she say? A maidservant cannot speak of her desire for the Prince she serves. How can she give voice to the fact that since he first acknowledged her, he has plagued her every waking thought?
“Say the word, and things shall go back to as they were before, we shall be strangers once more.”
That is certainly the easier of the two options, and yet the idea of having to live without his attention now she knows the sweet torment of what it is to have it seems unfathomable to her. She is playing a dangerous game, treading a knife’s edge, placing herself directly in harm’s way, and the words she speaks next will forever change her life’s trajectory, but as she stares up into his piercing blue eye her judgement is too clouded for her to mind.
“I do not want that,” she says earnestly.
“I want you to beg for it,” he tells her, the slightest hint of malice in his tone.
She feels a stickiness between her thighs, a dull throbbing ache in her core that makes her nerves sing for release. Her voice is foreign to her, pathetic sounding as the single utterance of “please” tumbles from her lips.
“Please what?” Aemond asks, tilting his head, mocking her as he looms over her, keeping her pinned against the desk behind her.
Under ordinary circumstances, she would feel ashamed by such lewd behaviour, but these are no ordinary circumstances, and her actions are driven solely by desire, so she feels no chagrin as she allows herself to murmur “please touch me”.
The Prince’s deft fingers make quick work of moving up her skirt, ghosting along the inside of her thigh as he goes, causing her to suck in a shaky breath as she grips his shoulders for support.
She mewls helplessly as his middle and index fingers work their way beneath her smallclothes, dragging through her silken folds, wet with arousal.
Aemond hums in appreciation as his digits explore her, his entire hand moving beneath the thin cotton of her undergarments, cupping her mound. She exhales a shocked gasp as he pushes two fingers forcefully inside of her.
His free hand clasps over her mouth, muffling her sounds, as he works his fingertips inside of her at a lazy pace. “We have to be quiet,” he tells her, “or we will get caught, and we cannot have that.”
She nods in understanding, whimpering against his palm as his thumb begins to circle her pearl, the pumping of his fingers increasing in pace, the sticky sounds of her arousal accompanying her stifled whines of pleasure.
They have not even shared a kiss, there is no romance to be found here, but she does not mind. If anything, the depravity of the act serves to heighten the sensations and renders her more responsive to his touch.
His eye bores into hers, the pupil so large it almost eclipses the blue of it, his lips parted slightly as his nostrils flare. He crooks his fingers, brushing against a spot inside of her that causes her to buck against his hand. He grins wickedly, speeding up his movements both inside of her and against her bud.
The pleasurable ache she feels building winds tightly within her gut, and her thighs tremble with the effort of keeping her upright. Her fingernails dig into the fabric of Aemond’s tunic, as she feels her body tense in preparation for what’s to come.
With a final press of his fingers, she falls apart, her cry almost silenced by his hand over her mouth as she breathes erratically through her nose. She tightens around him in quick pulses as waves of warm relief pass through her body, making her pliant against him. 
She maintains her grasp on his shoulders, not trusting her shaking legs to keep her upright as he releases her mouth and withdraws his hand from beneath her skirt, his fingers glistening with her release.
He tuts, examining them carefully as he holds them up between them both. “What a mess you’ve made”, he says condescendingly, pressing them against her lips and forcing them into her mouth. The taste of herself upon her tongue is tart, the very idea of what she is doing lewd to her. “Something else for you to clean up,” he coos, watching as she sucks her essence from his fingers.
With these words she is brought crashing back down to earth as she is reminded of the power imbalance between them. She will always be the woman who tends to his messes, who serves him, except now she is also a vessel for his pleasure and, whatever the outcome of that may be, it is too late now to take it back. He has seen her, fully, and she will only ever see of him what he allows her to.
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No Hiding In Plain Sight Pt 2 - LN
Summary: Lando is taking no risk. The world is going to know exactly who he's dating.
Part 1
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"I can't believe I said yes to this. I swear you're out to get me arrested or something." Y/n murmurs as Lando zips up the racing suit. "You realise I used to do street races in shorts and a hoodie."
"Probably how you managed to scar your legs so much." Lando hums while she deadpans a look at him. "You look good in my colour."
"You said that about papaya and now you're saying it about fluorescent yellow." Y/n scoffs before she sighs softly moving to wrap her arms around Lando who pouts at how cute she is, just placing his chin on top of her head. "What I crash?"
"You won't and if you do, we've got people at the ready." Lando assures her then moving back and cupping her face. "You're going to be fine. I'll be right there next to you."
"You hate being a passenger."
"I do, but I think this is going to be cool."
"Great." Y/n murmurs before smiling when Lando pecks her lips trying to reassure her that it really is going to be ok. "Fucking hell."
Eventually y/n is in behind of the camera for the intro and Lando is beaming as he stands with the Quadrant team beside him.
"Everyone who does know, my girlfriend in a previous life was an illegal street race driver-baby come here, introduce yourself." Lando grins making her move into frame and find herself firmly held at the waist by him.
"Yeah, I'm y/n and Lando found out that I street raced and said it'd be good for a video." Y/n sighs with a nervous laugh then flushing and trying to wiggle away when Lando manages to kiss her neck.
"Let's go!" Lando exclaims then pushing y/n towards the jacked up car. "Oh, helmet. Guys, where are the helmets?"
They get y/n in a matching helmet to Lando before Lando helps her get properly strapped in.
"No normal seatbelts?" Y/n jokes feeling a little more confident about this not going so badly that she might not fuck up. "You're not going to tell me to slow down are you?"
"I'll hold my breath if I need to scream." Lando smirks then tugging the seatbelts. "Do they feel ok? Not lose or slack anywhere?"
"No, you've managed to just not suffocate me." Y/n smiles then grinning when she is given another kiss. "I hope they're going to be cutting all these affectionate moments out."
"Probably go in the blooper reel." Lando shrugs before moving around to his side of the car and making sure he's also secure in his seat.
After a few more checks, talking with the camera team. They are eventually ready to go ahead with it.
"Alright, baby. You ready?" Lando asks as Ria appears as the one who will be starting the race.
They are actually driving up against Max and Aarav. Though Max seems more nervy about it.
"Yeah, I'm good." Y/n nods after wiggling the gear to check it's neutral as she engine grumbles.
A thumbs up from Lando and a thumbs up from Aarav. Tells them that they're ready to go when everyone else is ready.
There's a few cameras in the car from a few angles to capture everything and truth be told Lando's feeling a little clammy knowing that he really doesn't actually know the extent of y/n's abilities while driving. Driving on the track was nothing compared to what he's about to witness and she hasn't hinted at just how quick she can be.
Ria in true fashion of street racing holds out the cloth and y/n feels her younger self rise to the surface, muscle memory as she is ready to go at the drop of the white cloth.
The cars launch forward but it's pretty obvious Max got off better, not that it matters so much because y/n's faster. No hesitation as the car shoots forward, overtaking Max and Aarav before they can celebrate his good react time.
"Fuck." Lando murmurs as the flies, it's not the speed of an F1 car. But not being the driver and this being a completely different style of car to go at such a speed. He's feeling his stomach churn at the feeling of the g-force.
It's not exactly street racing because they have managed to find themselves a desert. Out in Portugal rather than in England like a lot of the Quadrant videos.
Y/n's blood burns with thrill as she drifts around a turn, slamming on the throttled as she feels her bones buzzing with the vibration of the car.
"Are you you alright, baby?" She laughs grinning like she's wild. Though really she's just having the best time.
Lando on the other hand is terrified. They've seemed to have lost Max and when they pass the finish line. Y/n swings the car around in another clean drift before they come to a stop.
"That was...amazing! Oh my gosh, I could go again!" Y/n laughs clearly feeling the adrenaline kick of her drive, turning to look at Lando and laughs. "Are you ok?"
"Y/n...if you taught yourself to drive like that, it's no wonder you funded a race career." Lando states while she smiles a little. "How did you not end up with a race career?"
"I mean I did, it just wasn't a legal one." Y/n smiles as Lando begins to unbuckle himself.
"You stay here, I think Max has to see how it's done."
"Yeah?
"I mean you just destroyed him." Lando nods while she beams at him.
When Max gets in the car he almost looks terrified while y/n grins at him.
"Do you want me to ease up?"
"No. No. Max can handle it. Honestly mate, don't shit yourself though." Lando laughs leaning through the open driver's door, seemingly double checking y/n's seatbelts are ok. More for his own assurance than anyone else. "You good over there, mate?"
"Yeah, just going to go into cardiac arrest from your girlfriend's driving." Max states sarcastically while y/n smiles at him.
"Good luck. I lived." Lando smiles earning a middle finger. "Have fun, y/n."
"I will." Y/n smiles still feeling the buzz.
She'd really forgot how good it feels to be behind the wheel. It was maybe because she knew her reasons for racing weren't there anymore. She didn't need to race and every time she raced, it came with the risk of a criminal record.
"Don't worry, Max. It's fun." Y/n smiles reaching to pat his knee.
Lando is the one to drop the cloth, mainly because he wants to see just what it looks like to watch y/n rocket off. Plus the glimpse at Max's expression as they zoom past him.
"Lando...your girlfriend is an absolute badass." Ria comments walking up to Lando as they watch the dust slightly block the view of the car. "If she replaces me, I don't know if I'd be mad."
"She's not replacing you, you muppet." Lando laughs as y/n goes around and begins heading towards them. "You might want to move."
Ria runs off while Lando smiles awaiting the inevitable of y/n drifting around him and he's sure he can hear Max cheering and hollering at y/n.
But eventually she stops when the cloud of dust is too much to safely see that she's not too close to him. Lando gets over to them once the car has stopped and laughs as Max drops out the passenger side and dry heaves, looking like his stomach might just spill it's contents onto the dusty ground.
"Are you alright there mate?" Lando laughs as he opens the driver's door and checks on y/n who is rubbing her eyes. But it quickly becomes obvious where Max might be gagging and coughing hard.
The dust must've got in through the vents. Y/n is coughing and rubbing at her eyes.
"Jesus." Lando laughs unclipping her belt as she coughs a little. "Alright, baby. Come on we'll get you some way water. You too, Max. On your feet."
"Oh yeah, don't give me a hand or anything." Max states sarcastically as Lando pulls off y/n's helmet, frowning that she's still blinking a lot.
"I'm ok, I just got a face full of the dust. Like someone targeted my eyed or something." Y/n frowns before she sighs while Lando tries to turn her head so she looks at him.
"We'll try and use some water to wash them a little." Lando murmurs then smiling. "Did you scare the hell out of Max?"
"He wouldn't open his eyes and when we were going around you, he avoided the dust in his eyes, just breathed it in."
Lando manages to help Max up and gets them both to some seats helping y/n splash her eyes till she assures him the dust isn't bothering her. Though her eyes still look pretty bloodshot, she's out for the rest of the racing in the video.
-
When the Quadrant video went live, it was no surprise to anyone that Lando and y/n are dating, but it was a huge surprise even to the McLaren team to see her driving abilities.
It's ended up with Lando being quizzed about the young woman.
"You confirmed that you and y/n are dating but that video you made. Y/n is a very talented young woman. Are you going to be encouraging her to maybe take up rallying?"
"She is amazing isn't she? I didn't even realise how good she was but really she just is so amazing." Lando grins not being able to hide his joy over dating her. "I would love to see her rallying, her brother already competes. But I think she prefers there being essentially no rules so we'll see. Might get her into karting or something if she'll let me talk her into it."
"We'd certainly love to see it."
"I'll let her know she's got a fan base already rooting for her. Although I'm sure she already knows."
Y/n is actually out in the paddock when Lando steps out the media pen and she is talking with Alonso of all people.
"Ah, Lando. Your young lady was just telling me about her illegal race funding." Fernando chuckles while she smiles brightly at him. "I was impressed. Lance shows me the video and I wonder why she is not being signed to McLaren now."
"I was just explaining I'm happy with my risk-free HR job that comes with no cost for travel." Y/n smiles while Lando laughs.
"You can watch my brother rallying. He's the whole reason I ever even risked the racing."
Fernando seems to soften at that information smiling at the young woman before looking more directly at Lando.
"Do not lose this one. She is one of the very best. I can tell, I have lived long enough. Do not be a fool." Fernando declares making y/n flush but send him a small smile.
"I won't." Lando assures him before he leaves. "Maybe I have to watch out that other people are going to be chasing you. I'll have to look out for competition around here."
"No different to when you're out on the track then." Y/n hums as she turns around and drapes her arms over his shoulders. "Fernando is sweet, might make him plan B."
"You're so funny." Lando scoffs while she grins at him then beaming when he scoops her up suddenly in a kiss. "I think we may need to just go on racing dates. Maybe we could convince your brother to let us have a go at rallying with him."
"He would say yes. He loves competing against me and destroying me in literally anything."
"I can respect that." Lando smiles then sighing as he looks around. "Let's get to the McLaren unit. I'm hungry."
"Mmm...food does sound good." Y/n nods then grinning as Lando kisses her gently.
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nanaminis · 1 month
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jjk men & you: nail appointment!
tldr: gojo, geto, nanami, ino, choso, toji, sukuna + mahito going with you to your nail appointment.
cw: fem!reader. sukuna refers to reader as ‘woman’ once. and mahito.
a/n: this was fun lowk. might do it for jjk boys, depends on my motivation. idk if mahito particularly counts as a man, but he’s here for my mootie. time to sleep now, enjoy!!!
✿ — gojo:
first things first, he’s paying for your nails. which sounds like a good thing, until you realize he’s insisting on going along with you. he’ll pester you the entire time, suggesting colors and styles (how does he know so much?!) and then doing anything to get you to laugh or look at him. sometimes it results in your nail tech getting a little lot frustrated because he keeps making you squirm. eventually, tho, he’ll stop and let the tech finish up your nails.
“they’re cute. would’ve been cuter if you let me pick, buuuut... still cute.”
✿ — ino:
he’ll flex his knowledge about nails like it’s something revolutionary or suggest a style that he swears is completely unique, only for you to correct him and realize that it’s really just basic information. he’ll spend the rest of the appointment scrolling through pinterest and instagram, trying to find inspo for your next set.
“ooh, baby, look. these are nice, right?”
✿ — nanami:
only pays if you want him to, and only goes if you want him to. is content to let you pick whatever style you want, but likes to pick out bold colors and suggest designs based on your interests or adding charms. always tips the tech, and once your nails are done, he gently grabs your hand and kisses the back of it.
“these suit you perfectly, my lady.”
✿ — geto:
at first, he is nawt going in there. unless you find a sorcerer nail tech, he’s going to be slick the entire time. he’ll side-eye everyone else getting their nails done, judge their taste (“why would she choose that shit-brown?”), and stand up the entire time. he doesn’t want the germs. once you’re done, he’s pulling you out of there as quickly as possible.
“here, take this. ... yes, it’s hand sanitizer. you don’t want those monkey germs, right?”
✿ — toji:
only goes because you told him if he tagged along, you’d pay. in reality, he was going to go all along, just to make sure nobody tries anything. he will slap the shit outta somebody, including your nail tech. sits in a tiny chair by your side, massive head resting on your shoulder and arms crossed, absolutely knocked out. he’ll only wake up if you shrug your shoulder or if the appointment ends (he has some kind of sixth sense for that shit).
“huh? ... nah, i ain’t sleep. you cute, now c’mon.”
✿ — choso:
kind of like gojo, clingy asf. he won’t make suggestions (bro has no idea, pls bear w/ him), but he’ll praise any and every decision you make. his arms will be wrapped around your waist the entire time, earning him lots of ‘awhss’ and ‘look at them! so cute.’ tips the nail tech for “making you extra gorgeous.” his words, not mine.
“you look good, i swear. i like the colors, and the shape, and the design, and your hands...”
✿ — sukuna:
has a personal nail tech. you think he maintains them black nails by himself? no. threatens his nail tech to do good on your nails, otherwise it’ll be the last set they ever do. makes minor suggestions, but is content to sit back and let you decide for yourself. he does have a preference color, though, either black, red, or dark purple. gets a weird urge to nibble your fingers once your nails are done. please don’t ask why.
“hm? you look fine, woman. nothing rivals your natural beauty, so quit ya whining.”
✿ — higuruma:
he’s awake for the entire prep process. watching you pick your colors, decide on a design, get settled in the chair. the second the nail tech actually gets to work, though, he’s tapped out. just like toji, he’s sitting in a chair beside you, head either resting in your lap or on your shoulder. if he could sit across from you, his head would be on your chest. only wakes up when it’s time to pay (he tips!) or if something goes wrong.
“... mm? oh, those are nice, sunshine. i like the little designs, very cute.”
✿ — mahito ..?:
a lil shit the entire time istg. doesn’t care what you pick, will poke and squish and pinch and nuzzle you the whole process, annoying both you and the tech. considers getting his done to match yours, but realizes he could probably just morph the shape of his soul instead of sitting there.
“those are, like, so cute! ... no? you don’t like my valley girl accent?”
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