#(i'm answering these a bit late so uh...sorry about missing the one at first!)

[corishadowfang]

If I can ask another… The Found Family Stays Together AU SNIPS and/or Union Leader outsider perspective fic? 💖

(For this)

Yeah, of course! (People can ask about as many as they'd like, haha.)

I know I've talked a little bit about it on here before, but The Found Family Stays together AU is basically just...an AU where the Union Leaders all end up staying together after the end of the world, haha. The idea is that they stay in the past and end up building Scala together...eventually. The "SNIPS" document is basically just where I've thrown stuff that I wanted to write, but wasn't necessarily in, like...chronological order. (Ex. there's some stuff from the earlier days, but there's also stuff from when they're adults.) It's mostly just a very self-indulgent thing, haha.

Anyway, excerpt below the cut!

EDIT: I...just realized you also asked about the Union Leader outsider perspective fic. So, uh...that'll also be under the cut, aha.

            “Do you ever feel like night and day are just social constructs?  Like—who decided what was morning and what was night?  It all just bleeds together, anyways.”             Lauriam groaned and rubbed his hands across his face.  “Ephemer, please.  It’s too early for this.”             “See, see, who says it’s early and not just really late?”  He was pretty sure he wasn’t making much sense—his mind felt fuzzy and his eyes heavy.             Lauriam shoved a mug across the table.             Ephemer started away from it, staring at it almost cross-eyed.  “Coffee?”             “Yes.  Please, just—if you’re going to be awake, please drink it.”             Ephemer gave him a tentative smile and sipped it.  His nose wrinkled at the taste.  “I don’t know why Brain likes this stuff,” he murmured, but took another sip.             “I’m guessing I’ll need one for him, too.”  Lauriam turned back to the coffee pot.  “That is what you were doing all night, right?  Trying to figure out how to get the Dandelions back?”

So the Union Leader outsider perspective fic is another one I'd really like to come back to and finish! Basically, it's another "all of the Union Leaders stay together after Daybreak Town falls," but with a slightly different twist to the AU. In this case, it's mostly told from the perspective of the person they come to for help, who has no idea what's going on. It's taken a backseat for a bit, but...hopefully one day.

Anyway, an excerpt:

            “My friends and I need a place to stay.”             The words came through the ringing in Tess’s ears.  She snapped back to the girl’s face.  Her expression was steely and resolute; it didn’t look quite right on a kid her age.  Then again, the bloodstains and magic didn’t seem right, either.             “It doesn’t have to be here,” the girl said quickly, as if that was the most concerning thing here.  “Just somewhere in town.  Somewhere that isn’t too expensive.”             “You don’t look like you have much on you,” Tess said, mouth running on autopilot, and she immediately wanted to kick herself for it.             The girl’s expression crumpled, then steeled again.  “No, but we can work if we need to.”             “With whatever magic did that, I’m guessing.”  She gestured helplessly at the clearly-healed wounds, but her mind was slowly catching up to what she was seeing, and she found herself sighing in defeat, running a hand over her face so she didn’t have to see the girl’s expression to that comment.  “I think you’d better come in for a bit.”

[nochepsicodelica]

Toji who got really drunk after a misunderstanding you left him to ponder upon one morning when you left for work. You missed a part of your routinely goodbye to him and at first it didn't bother him. He understood that you were running late, but once he started chugging the cold drinks and he sat with the sentiment, he realized it did strike him.

He hated the entire process of getting drunk, hated that drinking was unbearable unless it was chased with sweet kisses from you, but there he was, downing bottle after bottle. He was starting to feel liquid full but even in this intoxicated state he didn't want to put down the bottles. At some point he starting feeling uncomfortable being by himself and didn't want to feel that way anymore, so he called and texted you. Multiple times. You finally picked up after the eighth call.

-Hi, baby! Sorry, I missed your calls. I just left work and i'm heading home.-

-Baby? Who are you calling baby?- He scoffs, a roll of his eyes following.

-You... Toji. It's you. Who else would I be calling baby?-

-Honestly, I...- He laughs, the sound not coming off as one of joy with the next words he speaks. -I didn't think you even loved me enough to give me stupid pet names. I feel very unloved by you and... mhm, just want you to know that.-

Now, that's just entirely untrue and it hurts to hear. You prove your love for him every day. What is this sudden false claim against you?

-Toji, love, what are you saying? I'm coming home, already. Maybe we should talk in person. This is hard to discuss over the phone.-

-Uh-huh, you do that.- He sighs, heavily, his eyes lidding with sluggishness. -Can't win a verbal argument, s-so you're gonna come over here and try to seduce me with your pretty face. I'm just gonna say no when you try to touch me. Just no.-

-I'll see you in a bit, Toji.- you say, before abruptly hanging up.

He sounded off. You knew something was up the second you saw his eight missed calls and a stack of messages just saying 'hey'.

Your keys jingled as you pulled them out of your bag to unlock the front door. The house was steady, no sign of Toji watching TV in the living room or of the shower running. You walked further in, calling his name. It was kind of eery walking through your silent house. You also knew of Toji's tendency of scaring you, so you were on guard for that as you paced around the house. You had one more room to check and it was the bedroom. You dragged your feet over to the room, knocking when you noticed the door was closed. There was no answer after two more knocks so you just opened the door.

The sound startled Toji who was lying against the headboard of the bed, almost falling asleep. The second he saw you his demeanor changed. He perked up like a dog when their owner comes home, before melting back to the stoic state he had been sitting in.

"Hey," you say, almost tentatively, as you walk towards your shared bed, sitting down on the edge. You're met with an acknowledging hum of a response. "What's wrong, baby?"

"There you go calling me baby again. Baby is for people who love each other, so stop it."

You look over the bed, spotting the evidence that led to the bite in his attitude towards you— those bottles that spill the remaining drops of their content and Toji's backwash onto the bed, making the sheets reek of alcohol.

"Well, I love you, so no, i'm not gonna stop calling you baby."

He crosses his arms over his chest, huffing like a child. "That so? It didn't seem that way this morning. I've never felt so forgotten about by you."

"I told you I was gonna be late for work, but you insisted on keeping me trapped beneath you. Bring that part to light, handsome." You can see the corners of his lips twitching. He's holding back the most wicked smirk at the short burst of memories from the morning. "Plus, I still gave you your goodbye kiss, so what are you on about?"

"You didn't say 'I love you'. That's part of goodbye with you, so you can't blame me for feeling this way." His eyes express something of hurt. Maybe it's enhanced by the drinks he had, but you can't leave him that way.

"You're loved, baby. Very much so. Me not saying it this one time doesn't diminish the actual feeling." He's been reduced to a cub over this, so as his lover, you step in to mend the feelings that were grazed.

"Can you..." he rasps, patting his thigh, signaling for you to sit. You drag yourself towards him, and plop yourself onto his lap. You can smell the alcohol on his breath as he rambles on about how you can't forget to say 'I love you' to him ever again, even if it's a blurted, rushed one that he doesn't get a chance to respond to as you rush out the door.

The look he reserves for you is entirely soft, his hands are hot against your clothed back as they feel the warm body he's missed for hours. "I still..." he pauses to sigh, tiredness imbued into the sound. "Still want you to call me baby," he starts again. "I was just bummed. Don't stop calling me baby. Don't ever do that." He's letting his hands roam all over you. Your back, your waist, your hips—everything.

"Are you gonna let me touch you or are you gonna say 'no'?" You grin, remembering his words, verbatim, just incase he tries to tell you he never said them.

"Why aren't you touching me? Why would I not want you to touch me?" He looks insulted by the question and you have half a mind to remind him of what he said to you on the phone, but the heat in his eyes dies out as quickly as it appeared. "Really need a hug, mama. Please, hug," he says, the last part muffled by your chest as he keeps his face buried into it.

You held him tight and murmured 'I love you' countless times, while he hummed in response and groaned quietly as you ran your fingers through his hair.

[vssail]

kiss it better | robin x reader

a/n: english is not my first language! // 468 words

again, this was going to be about jaybin, but it could fit any robin (maybe a little ooc for damian). choose your fav and have fun reading!

"Hold still" you hissed at Robin. Your anger from exhaustion was obvious.

He made the effort not to move, but he couldn't help but flinch after you applied antiseptic to one of his scratches.

"God, this could qualify as torture, you know?" 

"If I torture you so much, next time wake someone else to patch you up!" you half-hissed, half-yelled. Yeah, you were angry.

He didn't answer (there was nothing he could say back). You were right, he shouldn't have bothered you so late at night. But Batman wasn't in town, Alfred would be angry for being careless (just a bit), and he kind of missed you. So yeah, he knocked on your window in the middle of the night with a first-aid kit in hand.

You continued working on him in silence, and he took the time to study your face. Even though you looked tired, your eyes were determined on patching him. Your eyebrows were furrowed in concentration. He didn't like the tension in your face.

While you were finishing bandaging his arm (it definitely took the worst damage), a hand rested on your cheek, caressing your face. With the other hand, he smoothed the crease on your forehead, trying to soften it.

"I'm sorry for bothering you," he murmured. "You should rest."

You left the bandages on your lap and placed a hand over his, still resting on your cheek.

"I saw you on TV," you whispered, a bit ashamed of what you were saying. "You were acting careless. And then I saw you getting thrown through a window."

He gave you a soft smile.

"Don't worry so much... your favorite Robin is safe and sound." 

"Not so safe and sound – that cut on your arm is terrible" you scolded. But a small smirk started forming on your face. "And who said you were my favorite?" you teased him, taking the bandages again.

He pretended to look hurt by that, only making you smile. The two of you continued with your own chores: you patching him, him studying the little smile still on your face. He loved making you happy. Both of you lost track of time until you finished.

"So... am I getting a lollipop after this or-" 

You cut him off, suddenly kissing the bandage on his arm. When you pulled back, you were greeted with a flustered, out-of-words Robin. He was completely still, frozen and red, his usual smirk gone.

"Robin?" you asked, trying to get him to Earth again.

"Uh?" he answered, but still looked like he was in another world.

You tried — really tried — not to smile, but it was impossible. The sight was too good for that. 

"Wh-What did you just do?" he babbled.

"...Kiss it better?"

He looked at you firmly.

"You're gonna be the death of me."

[bunnies-and-blues]

Hi~ your post on study session headcanons was so relatable for me, because I’m preparing for exams right now! Wish Kogure-sempai could keep me company while I revise… Sigh

Would you do headcanons for Mitsui, Rukawa, Kogure, and how they’d make up with their s/o after an fight?

Thank you so much! Keep up the good work!

─꒰ᐢ. .ᐢ꒱─ slam dunk : kiss & make up ☆

⸝⸝ tl;dr : fights are always the worst thing to have with your partner. work features mitsui, rukawa, kogure, and you !

⸝⸝ note : not really hurt/comfort, but more so just the comfort after talking it out with the sd boys ! and thank u sm, peach, wishing you the best on exams ! (even though its vv late) =DD

you don't even remember what you fought about . was it a conflict on schedules ? were you being too clingy ? or lack thereof ? whatever it was, it felt awful .

mitsui hisashi . . .

look, i love the guy, but he's not the best at communication

chances are, he'll be giving you the cold shoulder for a couple of days, even though his heart yearns for your presence and his eyes automatically search for your name whenever his phone lights up with a notification

i feel like he'd be a bit prideful, not replying for hours on end and giving you terse replies whenever you speak — like i said, awful communication skills !!

secretly though, he'd be asking his friends for advice — kogure, specifically. and to some extent akagi as well; he knows that both of them are level-headed enough to hear both yours and his side of the story.

eventually, he breaks ; he misses being around you : (

mitsui stops you just as you were about to leave the room. it was late afternoon, the sun's rays slanting through the classroom windows. dust motes swirl lazily in the light as mitsui steps towards you once, twice, three times, until eventually you two are facing each other. his eyes are downcast, his feet shuffling on the worn wooden floors. "look, i - uh -" he starts, and he curses. why the hell can't he talk ? even when you're not doing anything, you can still render him speechless. he stops, takes a deep breath, starts again. "i just wanted to say that i'm sorry, for you know, not answering your messages and not calling you back. ignoring you. i - i have no excuse for that; and i'm not proud of it, either. but i just wanna say that, whatever we fought about, we- we can talk it out, if you're okay with that. i wanna make this right. i don't like being in fights with you, and it feels weird, not talking to you. and the thing is, i-" he sighs again, his gaze finally coming up to meet yours. his words come out in a whisper, his statement meant for you and you only. "- i missed you."

kogure kiminobu . . .

easily the best communicator out of the three !!

he's the type of person that strives to end any miscommunication before it could even begin, so fights and arguments with him are infrequent, if not completely rare

the only scenario i can see wherein you'd get in a fight with him is about how maybe you're working too hard -- studying from the time you get home to the early hours of morning with no breaks in-between

kogure hates seeing you suffer, so often times he tries to offer advice, even if you don't want or need it

eitherway, an argument would happen ; maybe some hurtful words were thrown around, words that neither of you meant

regardless of who instigated, kogure would always be the one to first make amends

all around you, the world goes on -- students chatting excitedly over lunch, footsteps echoing all across the campus, birds and cars and people all just trying to move forward. but in this corner of the school, the one with the flowering cherry tree behind the cafeteria, the world only consisted of you and him. you fidget with the water bottle in your hands, the condensation making your palms wet. the sweltering noontime heat makes you dizzy. (or was it from your lack of sleep?) you raise your handkerchief to swipe at your sweat, but kogure beats you to it -- gently, he dabs his at your forehead, then your cheeks, then your neck. his hands are cool despite the heat. "i'm sorry for what i said the other day," he says as he cools you down. "i ... i just don't want to see you having a hard time. i know that your deadlines were near and you have so much to do but i just really don't like seeing you so ... tired. you haven't been talking much lately and i haven't seen you smile all week so i - i just --" "kiminobu." you cut him off, leaning your cheek into his palm. kogure's heart pounds in his chest ; you say his name so sweetly, so softly. "it's okay." "are you sure?" he stammers, leaning forward to caress your face better. "it's just that i know i said some things that i shouldn't have said and it's --" "kiminobu," you repeat again, your tone firm but gentle at the same time. you rest the weight of your head on his palms (along with the weight you've been feeling all week) and you smile at him. "it's okay." kogure stares at you for a moment, then he smiles back, his eyes crinkling and a laugh spilling from his lips. "okay," he repeats, nodding his head. "okay." he laughs, and it feels like he's weightless, floating on cloud nine.

rukawa kaede . . .

not much to say for rukawa tbh

but in all seriousness, the aftermath of your fights with rukawa would be silent and cold. much like mitsui, he tends to prioritize his pride and sore heart over actually making amends with you.

but that doesn't mean he doesn't care !

more often than not, he ends up with his fingers hovering over his phone's keyboard, trying desperately to think of a way to apologize to you, before sighing and just turning his phone off

he plays basketball to let off the steam, and also to occupy his mind from the lack of your presence : (

the sounds of rukawa's basketball hitting the floor echoes throughout the empty gym, mixing in with the sounds of cicadas chirping in the trees. moths gather under lamplights, their wings silvery in the night. bam-bam-bam goes the ball, before his pace stuttersto a halt. he wipes the sweat off his forehead and checks the time -- 7 pm. that's enough practice for one day. the cold night air greets him as he walks out the gym. as he swings his leg over his bike, he sees a familiar figure out of the corner of his eye. "you're still here," he states, deadpan. he still hasn't figured out how to apologize to you, and his stiffness shows in his voice. "yeah," you reply, clutching your bag tighter. you had been in the library with your classmates up until that point, working hard to finish a group project before tomorrow's deadline. silence between the two of you. you walk on, and so does he, the click-click-click of his bike wheels the only sound disrupting the quiet turmoil of each other's thoughts. the two of you exit the school campus, and for a moment you both falter on the concrete sidewalk, shoes scuffling the grit underfoot. "i'll- i'll go this way, then," you mutter. what the hell, he hates this! everything feels so ... stilted. before rukawa could reply, you turn on your heel and start walking in the direction of the train station. you barely manage three steps before rukawa cycles by, blocking you with his bike. he takes your bag and puts it in the front basket. pats the passenger seat of his bike with a determined gaze. "i'll take you home," he says. his voice is softer now. there wasn't much else to do except to sit on the backseat of his bike and let him pedal you home, the night air causing goosebumps to erupt on your skin. "wrap your arms around me," rukawa instructs. the wind carries his words, lifts it to your ear. you swear his breath hitches just the tinest bit when you do what he says, adding in a small nuzzle to his side for good measure. "i'm sorry," you whisper after a while, voice half-muffled by the fabric of his coat. your fingers toy with the zipper of his jacket. rukawa is silent for a bit, then he takes one hand off the handlebar and puts it atop yours. he intertwines your fingers with his, squeezing. his pulse vaguely thumps through his skin, sending beats vibrating through your palm. "i'm sorry, too."

[ayumy1]

Scored My Heart

Itoshi Sae x Male reader

Part 1 (<- You are here) | Part 2

Synopsis: The reason why Sae gave up his shared dream with Rin was because 'he' scored his heart in a way nobody else could.

Content: Fluff, humour, a tiny bit of angst

wc: 3.2k

Note: This is my first bllk fanfic and reader fanfic. So I apologise in advance for any ooc or weirdness. This is a male reader fanfic for plot purposes, if you don't feel comfortable reading, don't.

Language colour code: Spanish | Japanese

Life in Spain was hard for Itoshi Sae. Very hard.

Despite being a step closer to reaching his dream, understanding the coach and his teammates was another matter entirely.

All trainings required a painful amount of scrutinising to understand what was going on. Whether it be what plays to execute to what he wanted to eat at team dinners.

Of course the coach tried to make things a bit easier by using a translation app or using actions instead of words. He obviously didn't want to lose such a promising player due to a lack of hospitality, but the only promising comfort he could provide was to wait for something next week. At least that's what Sae could decipher.

True to his word, something did come the following week. Rather it was not a thing. But a person.

"Y/N L/N, YOU DARE COME LATE AFTER MISSING A WEEK OF TRAINING!" screamed the coach hurling a soccer ball to the newcomer.

"Chill out, coach. I came here as fast as I could." the figure named Y/n L/n dismissively replied as he effortlessly chest trapped the incoming ball.

"Haaah...I'm gonna retire early because of this kid," the coach sighed, "What kind of idiot gets sick in summer?"

"The special kind!" he grinned.

By now everyone had crowded around the boy, either patting him on the back or teasing him mercilessly. Sae could only spectate on the sidelines in slight envy.

It was not long before the coach barked out orders to continue the training exercise, whilst the latecomer began warming up.

"Sae!" the coach waved over, to which he promptly jogged over. "This is Y/n L/n. He knows a bit of Japanese, apparently... Y/n, this is Sae. Don't bite him."

"THAT WAS A ONE TIME THING!!!" exclaimed a blushing Y/n, who recalled the memory with great embarrassment whilst trying to swat his coach away.

Sae could barely understand the conversation and watched the coach walk away, leaving them behind.

"Sorry about that, I promise I don't bite. Trust me. It was a one time thing with some guy who plays soccer. I don't know if you know him, he's kinda famous. But ever since then, coach never lets me live it down..." Y/n rambled on.

Sae just stared. Even if the boy spoke Japanese, he wasn't even sure if he'd catch it all.

"Oh, you don't understand me..." the boy suddenly realised, "Uhh...My name is L/n Y/n. But uh... Y/n okay".

Sae's eyes widened, hearing Japanese in a foreign country felt weirdly comforting. At least there was finally someone he could talk to without fear.

"Itoshi Sae. But Sae's fine." introduced Sae. "I'm a striker, what position do you play?"

"Uhh...(Insert favourite food)." Y/n cluelessly answered, praying that the question was about his favourite food.

Sae burst out laughing. It was the first time he ever laughed since arriving in Spain. Once again, Y/n was flushed in embarrassment. This was now the second time he messed up an introduction to someone his coach brought.

As soon as Sae caught his breath, he began motioning to himself and an imaginary soccer ball. Before pretending to kick it with precision and power towards an imaginary goal. He then pointed towards Y/n with a questioning face.

"Ah...Same!" Y/n enthusiastically replied.

In the distance, the coach was gathering everyone up for another exercise.

"I should go now. It was nice meeting you." Sae said before running off.

Y/n stared at the retreating figure, he couldn't wait to tell his mum about Sae. Maybe excluding the part about his own poor excuse of Japanese.

"Y/N, QUIT DREAMING AND FINISH YOUR WARM UPS!"

A few months had passed since Sae arrived in Spain. With the help of Spanish classes and Y/n, he'd gradually been able to feel more at ease and understand everyone. As usual training was harsh and the overbearing heat wasn't helping anyone's will to live.

Except for Y/n.

"Hey! Did anyone see that goal just now!" Y/n beamed. He was currently the only one out on the field, whilst the others took an extended break out of the sun.

"Alright, gather up!" called the coach, "We're ending today's practice here. I don't want any of you getting heatstroke or what not. Make sure to rest and stay hydrated. Understood?"

"Yes, coach."

"Especially you, Y/n! No more soccer today." the coach sternly reaffirmed.

"Hmph, fine." huffed Y/n in a pouty manner.

Everyone slowly trudged towards their bags before bidding farewell to each other. Sae was lost at what to do. His routine for the past few months consisted of training, class, eating and sleeping with barely any time for himself. Noticing his distress, Y/n decided to muster up his courage.

"Sae, wanna come to my house?" Y/n asked. With the help of Sae, Y/n's Japanese had also been improving.

"Sure." replied Sae.

"Cool, you can meet my mum. She's Japanese, so you can actually talk to her!" he exclaimed.

"You're half Japanese?" Sae asked, adjusting to Spanish. He gradually picked up Y/n's speaking habits. Such as using Spanish when he was excited or using Japanese to mess with people or a combination of both if he got too comfortable and lazy. Only when Sae switched languages with him, did Y/n notice.

"Ah, I did it again." Y/n sheepishly smiled. "Yeah, I learnt most of my Japanese from her. I guess I don't really look the part, I probably spend too much time in the sun."

"I thought you learnt Japanese from anime." stated Sae, "You're always quoting random lines."

"Shush, only you hear that." Y/n playfully glared as he guided Sae back to his home.

Time seemed to fly as the pair spent time together sharing stories, discussing hobbies and touring the L/n household. Then the topic of family came up.

"I have a brother called Rin. He's gonna be the best striker after me." Sae proudly.

"Wait... you're the best striker after me!"

"Huh, no way! You're behind Rin." retorted Sae.

Before Y/n could argue back, the click of the front door unlocking attracted his attention. He grabbed a Sae by the wrist and rushed to the door.

"Welcome back!"

"I'm back," the female who stepped into the house replied, "Oh, is this Sae-kun you've brought back?"

"Mhm"

"It's nice to meet you, L/n-san." Sae politely greeted.

"Likewise, Sae-kun. I hope Y/n hasn't caused you too much trouble. Would you like to stay for dinner? I can cook Japanese food if you're feeling homesick." she offered. They continued to exchange words in Japanese, leaving a very clueless Y/n to look back and forth.

With the addition of Sae, the home was filled with laughter. It had been a while since the L/n's were able to accommodate for another.

"Thank you for the dinner, it was delicious." complimented Sae.

"No problem, Sae-kun. You're welcome back anytime." replied the older L/n.

"Sae, you can come over everyday!" Y/n offered, oblivious to what his mother had just said.

"Hahaha...that's just what your mother just said, idiot."

"Oh."

Sae's lungs clawed for air as he hunched over trying keep his composure. He couldn't do it. He couldn't score. The defender's that swarmed like bees were tight knit and unrelenting.

The only reason they won was because of Y/n's goals again. A goal that soared beautifully in the air with deadly speed, to a place nobody could reach. Everyone could either watch in fear or awe over and over again.

That was the true essence of a striker.

"Dammit."

Every opportunity given to him always resulted in passing. It was like it was the only thing he could do.

"Sa-" Y/n hesitated. He knew the frustration of his friend. It had been multiple games since Sae had scored and it was clearly weighing heavily on his mind.

What is the purpose of a striker, if not to score?

It was obvious to everyone that Sae was stressed, tired and most of all homesick. Y/n signalled to the coach before dragging Sae to the locker rooms.

They walked home in silence, hand in hand, with Sae lagging behind a little. It wasn't until after they snacked and showered that Sae began to talk.

"Sorry."

Y/n motioned Sae to sit down and turn around, so he could help dry his hair.

"For what?"

"I failed."

"Huh?" Y/n' questioned, like Sae had three heads, "I thought you were sorry for eating my food."

"I wouldn't apologise for that" Sae quickly replied.

"Hmph, meanie. I was joking." huffed Y/n, "You didn't fail me. You failed yourself...This might be wrong for me to say to a striker, but your assists are amazing! Like better than (Insert team's midfielder), because your passes are like really precise, so they're really easy to kick in the way I want. The ball always goes 'BOOM' when I receive it from you. But from others it's always like 'baaaaam' and there's nothing special behind it. Obviously it's different when I move it up the field because then it's always a 'BOOM'. If that makes sense...?"

By now, Y/n's hands had already stopped drying Sae's hair and were waving around to imitate the sounds he made. He peeked over to see Sae's reaction, expecting joy from the compliment or anger from the insult as a striker. But was shockingly met with a blushing Sae.

"Uh...Sae?"

"You idiot, I can't understand you when you speak so fast in Spanish." he seethed and pushed Y/n's face away. His face clearly counteracted his words laced with annoyance.

"But if you didn't understand, why are you a tomato?" Y/n inched closer to whisper in his ear.

"Shut up!"

"HAHAHA! YOU SWITCHED TO JAPA-GWAH!"

Sae tackled the cackling boy and they wrestled around the room, knocking into the shelf and bed of Y/n's room. It wasn't till a stray soccer ball from an upper shelf smashed into the back of Y/n's head, creating a domino effect that unfortunately ended with their foreheads colliding.

"Why on earth do you have a soccer ball on the top shelf?!"

"For moments like these!" Y/n exclaimed, using the opening to capture Sae into a tight hug.

"Hey! Let me go!" Sae yelled, struggling to break free.

"I'll teach you street soccer."

"Huh?"

"I'll teach you street soccer." Y/n repeated.

"I understood the first time, idiot"

"But you said 'huh'"

"How does that even benefit you?" muttered Sae.

"If it means I get you as my partner on the field, I'll do it." stated Y/n with determination.

"...Fine."

"One more thing, you're staying over tonight. There's salted seaweed in the kitchen. No take backsies!"

For the next year, Sae and Y/n trained together to share each other's respective techniques and observations.

"I have a terrible self-awareness of whoever's behind me, when I have to trap a high ball mid air." Y/n randomly spilled.

"Don't tell me that, we're probably going to play each other in a warm up match." Sae panicked.

"Good." beamed Y/n, "Then I should learn how to fix it then."

"What if we play each other in the future?"

"Then it'll be even more fun! Just imagine it." Y/n happily replied. "But then again, if you apply for citizenship, we can play on the national team together."

"True. The Japanese team is lukewarm." Sae thoughtfully answered.

"Lukewarm?"

"Shut up." Sae half-heartedly glared, "I can't score when I'm anxious."

"I know." said Y/n, causing Sae to drop his head in disappointment. "Everyone can see your anxiousness on the field, which is why they take advantage of it. You gotta feel the desire to make them tremble under your skill and drop dead as you plow through the enemy territory...and finally score where no one expects!"

"...Did you take that from an anime?" laughed Sae.

"Hey! I was trying to help you and this is the thanks I get?"

After lots of teasing and laughing, they continued to practice diligently at mastering each other's style and it was not long until they could show off their practice.

'You're all...lukewarm,' is what Itoshi Sae mindlessly repeated in his head.

A defender approached from his left, causing Sae to pause with the ball on the outside of his right foot. By protecting the ball on the opposite side, he swiftly performed a roulette and passed them with ease. Another charged directly for him, allowing him to flaunt his speedy double touch.

He was readily approaching the goal, eyes piercing into the soul of the goalkeeper who could only cower in fear and beg for mercy.

This continued for many games, Sae would not only assist the other strikers, but also score himself, bringing great joy to everyone on the team, except for the coach. He was no doubt that he was ecstatic about Sae's growth, but the problem lay in the team composition. If Sae was a striker, he'd need to fuel his ego even more and focus purely on being a scorer. But if he was a midfielder, he'd need to focus on stamina only, creating and executing plays.

Whilst performing both was possible as an attacking midfielder, Sae was registered as a striker and needed to make a decision about his position. No coach would be willing to create a team featuring a player that couldn't pick a position.

"Sae!" the coach called out, to talk privately after another victory.

"Yes, coach?"

"Sae, do you like to score?"

"Yes."

"Then why do you pass?"

Sae hesitated, for he didn't know the answer at first. Initially passing was a way of evading the enemy due to fear. But now, he had grown to overcome that and charged powerfully with a desire to score a goal.

"Because it's just as fun." Sae began.

"Fun?" questioned the coach, motioning him to expand.

"Dribbling past the enemy, only to pass to another," Sae explained, "is like..."

"Tch, you lukewarms. You're not worthy of seeing the full extent of my powers." a voice suddenly filled the silence.

"Y/n, why are you here?" the coach sighed, not surprised at all.

"I'm hungry," replied Y/n, "So am I right?"

"Ehh, I don't know?" Sae responded.

The coach exhaled a deep breath, there was no point in shooing Y/n away, he'd most likely find out sooner or later.

"Sae, look up Alvaro Recoba and if you like his play style, then I'll be placing you as an attacking midfielder." the coach announced.

"M-midfielder?" both boys stuttered.

"I can't have you stealing the midfielder's job, if you're a striker." explained the coach, "You'll have to pick."

Sae nodded and allowed Y/n to drag him away.

"Goodnight, boys. Don't sleep too late." the older L/n reminded them before heading off to bed.

"Okay." they replied. Time passed quickly whilst Sae and Y/n were huddled together on Y/n's, watching videos of the Uruguayan midfielder, Alvaro Recoba.

"Woah! Can you do that, Sae?" Y/n nudged. The maroon haired boy was unresponsive.

"Uh...Sae?" asked Y/n with concern.

Instead of answering, Sae posed his own question. "Are we still partners, if I become a midfielder?"

His thoughts orbited around his friendship with Y/n and soccer. Would they still have their personal practice time? Would Y/n abandon him to practice on his own? Or even worse, never want to play together anymore?

Y/n sat up straight and grabbed Sae's shoulders firmly to the other's surprise. They stared for a while in silence.

"Don't play soccer or be a striker to be partners." Y/n firmly stated. "Never do something like that because it'll only make you empty. Got it?"

"Yeah." replied Sae, he was shocked at his friend's piercing gaze.

"If the only thing that changes is your title, I don't see why we wouldn't be." Y/n began, his seriousness seeping away, "In fact, you'd be my official partner because my goal is just as good as your goal. Without you, I wouldn't have scored in the first place."

Sae just nodded, allowing the words to sink in properly. After watching a few more videos, they retired for the night to their respective beds, or in Sae's case a futon. With his mind at peace, Sae could rest easily, unbeknownst that Y/n's mind was whirling with memories. It was going to be a long night for Y/n, who just gazed at the blank ceiling.

The next morning, Sae woke up well rested to the sound of oil sizzling and the smell of miso soup. His friend was messily sprawled in his bed, still snoozing away.

"Good morning, Sae-kun." L/n M/n greeted Sae, who just arrived in the kitchen.

"Good morning L/n-san." replied Sae, who kept insisting to call her L/n-san.

"Is Y/n still asleep?" she asked. It wasn't unusual for him to sleep in, but it was increasingly rare.

"Mhm." Sae hummed as he accepted the plate of fish sprinkled with salted seaweed from her. The table had already been set with cutlery, bowls of miso soup and rice.

They began to converse about daily life, even though they had heard most of it from the yapper, Y/n.

"You're curious about why Y/n told you that, right?" M/n guessed, when she noticed Sae's hesitation after mentioning the conversation that occurred last night.

"A bit." admitted Sae, "But I don't think Y/n's comfortable about it, since it involves his father."

There was no doubt that they both deducted the reason why Y/n was sleeping in this morning.

"You're so patient, Sae-kun." M/n proudly smiled, resting her chin against her palm. "I'll tell you anyway."

"Eh?" Sae's eyes widened in shock.

"You've figured out most of it... and I trust you, Sae-kun." she said knowingly, standing up to grab a photo album off a nearby shelf.

"Y/n learnt soccer from his father at a young age." she began, showing a photo of a young Y/n and a man posing with a soccer ball. As she was flipping through the album, the man had stopped appearing in the photos. "They played everyday, until he passed due to a car accident when Y/n was eight. From then, he played soccer for his father and slowly lost himself. My only regret is isolating myself and not noticing earlier."

An awkward silence settled between them. Sae was at a loss of words, should he share his condolences or had it been too long since it happened? Or would it be better to promise to take care of Y/n?

"Thank you for being his friend." M/n added.

"Thank you for telling me and taking care of Y/n. I'm very grateful to call him my friend and I promise to take care of him." Sae stood up and bowed.

"Now...would you like to see more photos of Y/n?" she smiled sweetly, lightening the mood. She quickly grabbed another album containing embarrassing photos of Y/n such as tripping or being smacked in the face by a ball. Sae could only sweatdrop at the abundance of photos.

"Morn-" Y/n sleepily shuffled into the kitchen, "GAH! WHY ARE YOU LOOKING AT THOSE!"

For the rest of the day, Sae couldn't make direct eye contact with Y/n without the images imprinted into his head from appearing.

Part 1 (<- You are here) | Part 2

Note: Thank you for reading. I hope it was clear to understand. I have plans to make a part 2.

[gracieheartspedro]

Your Needs, My Needs

I : Strawberry Wine

a masterlist of how you can help gaza

the prelude to this series

pairing: cowboy!joel x f!reader (no outbreak)

description: joel fixes your toilet but you can't help but yearn for more time with him. so you invite him to dinner and try to win his stomach? aka love?

word count: 3.2k words

warnings: there is no smut in this part. still MINORS DNI! no use of y/n! vague talk of reader's old life before texas, no real description of the reader, reader does have anxiety/mental illness that is not fully recognized/diagnosed, mentions of eating food, reader lives alone, reader got MONEYYYY, mentions of joel's ex wife (gasp), alcohol consumption, smoking cigarettes, kissing, flirting. all the fluffy stuff <3

author's note: hey...hey.... how y'all doing?? i'm so so so sorry this has taken so long. my life has been crazy for the last like 4 months and I'm finally getting settled into my life again. I miss y'all and I miss writing, so HERE I AM! I'm hoping everyone who wanted me to tag them months ago is still cool with me tagging them 4 months later lol. okay, lemme know what you think xoxo

Joel comes and goes for days. The first day he returns, he inspects your toilet again and tells you he has the wrong tools. You discuss a game plan and by his initial projections, your toilet should be fixed the next day. But when he fails to come by in the morning, you decide to call the phone number on the post-it note he left for you the day before. 

The phone rings and you get an answering machine of a younger girl telling you to leave her and Dad a message after the beep. When the line lets out a long ding, you breathe out the random croak in your throat. 

“Uh, hey, Joel, it’s me. Just seeing if you’re stopping by today. If not, that’s fine, I’ll be home all day today and tomorrow. Okay, uh, bye.”

Hours go by and you find yourself pacing, regretting your decision to leave him a message. What if he gets it and thinks that you’re crazy? 

Ever since you had made his acquaintance, you felt completely reliant on interacting with him. It may be due to the fact that you haven’t socialized with anyone else in months. You were very good at isolating yourself, but lately, it’s been eating you alive being so alone. Now that you had this big house, the silence felt almost too quiet. Joel’s southern drawl and straightforward responses gave a bit of light back to your life. 

Around dinner time, your landline rings. You practically fall over your couch racing to pick it up, hoping it was him. 

“Howdy neighbor,” He grunts through the phone, “Sorry I didn’t come by today, hope ya didn’t miss me too much.”

You let out a dry laugh, trying not to sound too giddy about him following up with you. You were borderline pathetic. 

“No, I just wanted to make sure you were still alive,” You manage to get out, “You are still alive right?”

“Still kickin’, just busy as all get out. ‘M fixin’ to head to your place now if you’re not busy.”

You look down at your pajamas and start to nod. It’s not like he can see you through the phone, but you are reacting to his words like he’s right in front of you. 

“Sure thing, I’ll leave the door unlocked.”

-

“So… It’s really just you here? All by your lonesome?”

He’s messing with his toolbox, searching for the one tool he needs to fix the toilet. You stir your fresh brewed tea, ensuring none of the sugar clumps up at the bottom of the mug. You had offered him some, but he politely declined, telling you that he had a big dinner.

You take a sip, testing the sweetness. “Just me. How about you? Just you and your daughter, right?”

He laughs heartedly, turning towards you from where he’s squatted. You look at him with curious eyes, unsure if you asked the wrong question. He stands up, a wrench in his hand, a smile still spread across his face. 

“Her mama left town with her new boyfriend about 5 years ago. Wanted the city life, not the life I gave her. It’s been just me and her ever since.”

So he’s single. You think to yourself. 

You realize the laugh was probably because of how absurd and new it must be for someone to ask him about his life. He grew up here and you are positive everyone here already knew all about his business. You are a breath of fresh air for him. 

Before the silence becomes awkward, you speak up. “City life ain’t worth a shit.”

“Yeah, she’s different. Won’t speak ill of her ‘cause that’s my bosses’ mama. She sees her now and again. They are just very different.” 

The conversation comes easy with Joel. While the first couple of interactions you two shared were a bit strained, after days of small talk, you realize he’s the truest Southern gentleman you’ve ever interacted with. Polite with a little bite. He never speaks ill of others, except his brother. He loves to pick on Tommy. He seems like an attentive father. He loves to pick at you, always pointing out your Northern tendencies. Your horrible driving. Your accent and your speech patterns. But he’s also very complimentary. A couple of days ago, he remarked how nice your perfume was when you were standing close to him. It made your heart skip a beat. 

And on top of all of those things, he’s very easy on the eyes. 

“That’s mighty fine of you not speaking ill of your ex,” You try to drag out the silly Southern saying, which causes him to chuckle again. You smack your lips before continuing, “Wish I could do the same.”

You are not sure what he’s doing to the tank of your toilet, but you watch him strain to get a piece out of the corner with the wrench he has. He clenches his teeth, turning the piece to the left to loosen it. 

“Exes are exes for a reason,” He grunts, fiddling with some more things in the tank, “I ain’t too hung up on datin’ right now. I got my girl and my horses.”

“And now you got me, your annoying neighbor who almost crashes into your horses and asks you to fix toilets.”

He breathes out loudly, “Yeah, ‘nother pain in my ass. Just what a man needs.”

-

The toilet is fixed too quickly. You had busied yourself with other small cleaning tasks that when Joel finds you in the kitchen doing dishes, he startles you. It took him about 15 minutes to finish the job and you had thought you could at least finish up the dishes you made from dinner. 

“‘M all finished up. Gotta get back home to do some rounds at the stables,” He says as he waltzes over to your paper towel holder. He grabs a sheet and begins to wipe his damp hands, “Anythin’ else for me today?”

You turn off the running water, going down a list of fixes you could ask him to do. You decide it’s probably best to just ask him to swing by another day to help you with other things. 

“No, thank you though, Joel. I am sure I’ll be by to ask for more help,” You chuckle, shaking your hands dry, “I owe you dinner or something.”

As you say it, it feels like all the air leaves your lungs. He’s staring at you and there’s a glint in his eyes. You are not that good at reading people, mostly because you are deathly afraid of being wrong. His eyebrows raise as he leans against the counter near you. He’s so close and in your space, but you try to push the thought of him coming onto you out of your mind. 

“What’do you got on the menu tomorrow?”

His voice is kind of husky which makes your brain draw a blank. You wipe your hands on your pants before crossing the kitchen to check your fridge. You glance through your ingredients, settling for the only dinner item you can conjure up that his southern palette may like. 

“Baked chicken and vegetables?”

He nods, tossing his paper towel into the bin beside you. “Yeah, I've been needing a home-cooked meal. Think I could come over at like 5? Tomorrow?”

You recollect a time when a guy showed interest in wanting to hang out with you outside of work. It had been years and he was not nearly as attractive as the man in front of you. 

You nod slowly, trying not to look too robotic due to your nerves. “Sure thing, cowboy.”

-

You did not know what to wear. You contemplated going into town to see what the local boutiques had but you ran the risk of Joel seeing you out. You didn’t even know if this was a date. 

You settle on a sundress you have owned since high school. It’s the perfect length and while your mind goes to wanting to impress Joel, you also need to be comfortable. 

You cleaned your house, adding some new decorations to your living room walls. You even clean your sheets and make sure your bedroom is vacuumed. 

When the time comes for Joel to arrive, you pace the kitchen anticipating the doorbell. You already had all the food prepped and ready to put in the oven. The vegetables have been cut and seasoned. Everything was just the way you needed it to be. 

Joel gets there 5 after your scheduled time. When you welcome him at the door, his hair is styled and you can tell he put on his “fancy jeans”. 

What you didn’t expect was the bouquet of flowers he had in his hands. 

“Afternoon, neighbor,” He begins before extending the floral arrangement towards you, “My girl said I had to bring you something nice. Somethin’ bout being a gentleman.”

You smile widely, giving flowers all your attention. Even with the fragrant bouquet, you get a whiff of his sandalwood cologne. 

“Nice to see you cleaned up for me, cowboy. Come on in, dinner is about to get put in the oven.”

-

You catch him scanning you up and down when you place the spread of chicken and vegetables on the table. He was in the midst of talking about his daughter and her band fundraiser, but he completely halted when you took notice of his staring. 

You settle into the dining room chair across from him, waiting for him to continue, but he doesn’t. 

“She needs more sponsors?” You break the silence, wanting to move away from the sudden awkwardness. 

He swallows, reaching for the serving fork, “Oh, yeah. She needs to reach a certain goal to go on her senior band trip.”

You try to avoid his wandering gaze again, focusing on organizing your plate of vegetables. “Where are they going?”

“Disney. She ain’t never been out of Texas, so she really wants to go.”

You remember all the trips your family said they’d go on to Disney, but they never did. Your father could not stand being around his own children, let alone other people’s children. You think about how he used to complain about your constant questions, all the times he completely ignored you for your brother. You start to spiral, the anxiety creeping up in the back of your throat. You push your chair out from under the table, excusing yourself for a moment. You go to the bar you have set up in the living room and grab the only sweet wine you have. Strawberry. You grab two glasses from the top of the setup and walk back to Joel. 

“Forgot wine,” you mumble, setting a glass in front of him, “You want some?”

He is already picking at his chicken, “Yeah, I’ll take some.”

You are quiet as you uncork it expertly, pouring it into each of the glasses. Joel watches you like a hawk. You can tell he’s trying to read your expression, so you try your best to remain neutral even though your hands are shaking. 

You place the bottle in the middle of the table, making sure it’s easily reachable. 

You finally sit back down, sipping the red liquid. The strawberry flavor isn’t very strong, it’s more like a hint of the berry. You had gotten the bottle from a roadside stand in Kentucky. An older lady who must have owned a vineyard nearby was selling them for $5 each. You told yourself you would only use it for a special occasion. This event seemed fitting. 

Wine always makes you flushed, but you are always a bit flushed around Joel. Even more so when he’s watching you so intently. 

After a couple of sips, you finally rest your shoulders and begin to eat your dinner. 

“I could sponsor her,” you finally say, returning to the previous conversation. For some reason, you felt obligated. Joel quickly retaliates, shaking his head as he chewed on your roasted veggies. 

“You ain’t gotta do that, doll.” 

The nickname rings in your ears. You take another sip of wine. You can tell Joel notices your reaction because he smirks with his mouth full. 

“But I want to, Joel. I’m sure she has worked hard her high school career, she deserves to have fun.”

He hums, but still shakes his head negatively, “I can’t let you just pay for-”

“You can and you will,” You enjoy another bite, smirking at your defiance towards him. He looks perplexed. “So when is this fundraiser? Is there like a dinner or something?”

He finally caves, “This Friday at the school. It’s a dinner and auction. I guess if the kids don’t find their sponsors, some local businesses are willing to sponsor them.”

“Are you going?”

“Yeah,” He cuts up his chicken, “I guess you’re gonna come along, too, if you’re givin’ my girl all that money.”

“Does a check work?”

He sits back in his chair, already finishing off his wine, “You seriously don’t have to-”

“What are neighbors for, Joel?”

He nods, “You mean friends.”

You furrow your brows, trying to let your hazy mind find a time when you called him your friend. This was a new development.

“Friends, huh?”

He pours more in his glass, “Well, I’d like to think so.”

The wine is hitting your system and you realize your arms feel lighter. You grab the stem of your glass and tip it up to down the rest of the alcohol. Joel’s eyes are trained on you, waiting for a snarky response. 

“Do friends stare at other friends like that?” You pour more wine for yourself. You realize he’s done eating so before he can respond to your flirtation, you speak up again, “You done with that?”

He looks down at his empty plate, “Yes, ma’am.”

“Yes friends look at other friends like that, or you’re done eating.”

He grins, “‘m done eating, doll.”

-

You two find your way out to the rocking chairs. They were left there by the previous owners and you could tell they were probably as old as you. 

You had another full glass of wine, sipping it as Joel lit up a cigarette. He admitted it was only a bad habit when he was drinking, which was rare. “Sarah gets onto me when I have even one beer. So this has gotta be between us two.”

You swirl the crystal, watching him carefully take a drag of the stick. “Your secret is safe with me, cowboy.”

He giggles as he lets out a huff of smoke. “I haven’t had secrets in a long time. Guess I’m lucky it’s with the town stranger.”

The statement hits you in the very pit of your settling tummy. You furrow your eyebrows, leaning forward towards him. Your chairs are not that far away from one another, so this is probably the closest you have ever been to him except for that one moment in the kitchen. 

“Luckiest man in Texas that’s for sure,” You muster, averting your eyes. You could not stare into his beautiful brown eyes for too long. “Having the privilege of getting me out of my head. No man has done that in years.”

“What? You not good at letting loose?”

You shake your head, knowing that he did not understand what you meant. You take a moment to inhale, finally glancing up at him again. “I think I may just be cursed.”

“Now, why do you say that?”

You contemplate spilling the beans. Letting your heart fall onto your sleeve after years of shielding it from anyone who looks your way. Your lips part, but no words come out. It’s just the sounds of the cicadas. 

“As soon as something is good, it gets bad somehow. I don’t even get a moment to savor it.”

You feel the statement down to your bones. The last time you felt settled in your own life, the rug got pulled out from under you. You cannot remember a time when you truly felt present in a special moment. You always felt like you were floating outside of your body, watching things happen and never really truly feeling anything. 

You don’t expect him to lean closer to you, “Whatever happened before you got here, you ain’t gotta worry about it anymore. You obviously put distance between you and what happened for a reason. Let this little side of the world be your home now.”

You push your spiraling thoughts away, letting him be right. 

“I’m workin’ on getting settled. It’s easy when you have a handsome cowboy to help along the way.”

It comes out like word vomit. Between the wine and the nerves coursing through your entire being, you can’t help but admit your little crush on the man. You slap your free hand over your forehead, admitting defeat before he can even respond. You knew he would take the comment and run with it.

“You always flirt with your friends, sweetheart?” He was toying with you, which was a good sign. If he wasn’t interested, he wouldn’t call you such a thing. 

You smile, releasing your face from your hand. His eyes are tracing every curve of your face, a subtle pass that you did not capture quickly enough. 

“Only ones that fix my toilets.”

And then, he kisses you. It happens so quickly, that you don’t fully grasp that it’s happening until you're molding your lips into his. Once your buzzed brain picks up the fact that the man you have been crushing on is kissing you, he pulls away. Your eyes are still closed, your hands still gripping onto your wine glass. 

He huffs loudly and stands up quickly. Once you place your eyes on him, he’s pacing around the back deck stairs, not too far from where you’re sitting. You instantly bite back the urge to ask him what’s wrong, because there’s always something wrong. 

“‘M sorry, sweetheart. I should’na done that.”

He instantly regretted it. The thought made your throat tighten. He continues to walk back and forth, causing a draft. 

“It’s fine, Joel. I’m n-not mad.”

He shakes his head, halting his robot-like movements. He finally looks at your pitiful expression and lets out a long sigh. “I don’t think I’m much of a gentleman, kissing you on the first date.”

You watch as he places his hands on his hips, contemplating his whole life right before your eyes. You realize he is too traditional to see that nowadays, people are sleeping together on the first date. First base is nothing. You rest your glass on a decrepit table next to you and stand up. 

You slowly approach him, trying to catch a glance from him, but he continues to avert his eyes. You grow bold enough to tilt his chin towards you, letting your guard down for a moment. 

“You’re such a gentleman, it hurts,” you whisper, slowly letting a smirk grow across your face. The comment makes his shoulders lower, finally relaxing from such a heated moment. 

“Just don’t wanna mess this up with ya,” He murmurs, only letting you and the nearby fireflies hear you, “I enjoy spending time with you.”

You slowly lower your hand to your side, trying to act casually about the confession. But the truth is you want to run and wake up every cow and horse within a 10-mile radius with a squeal of delight. 

“I like spending time with you, too, Joel.”

He takes your hand as you say it, bringing your knuckles up to his lips. His breath is hot on the back of your hand before he says, “Well now, I quite like the sound of that."

taglist (some of y'all can't be tagged, I tried lol)

@midnightdragonzero @casssiopeia @anoverwhelmingdin @notsosecretspy @raindrcpsangel @art-estrange @misstokyo7love @lizzie-cakes @d1lf-loverrr @ashleyfilm 

@blckbrrybasket @cande-beggins @gloryekaterina @lilyevanstan1325 @frogtape @jamesdeerest @mellymbee @arrowsandanchor @polishedtaylor @harrieandharassed @ranahx @youwouldntdownloadapizza @jmillersgirl @wintersquirrel @stefanibear003 @joliettes @startsm00n @abbsfrommars @76bookworm76 @youotterbekiddingme @jodiswiftle

[kitty6choi]

𝑳𝒊𝒕𝒕𝒍𝒆 𝒃𝒖𝒃𝒃𝒍𝒆

⋆｡𖦹°⭒˚｡⋆｡𖦹°⭒˚｡⋆｡𖦹°⭒˚｡⋆｡𖦹°⭒˚｡⋆｡𖦹°⭒˚｡⋆｡𖦹°⭒˚｡⋆｡𖦹°⭒˚｡⋆｡𖦹°⭒˚｡⋆

「 Synopsis」 : It's been a while since you've seen your boyfriend and the last thing you want to do is leave his side.

★Paring: Bf idol! Bang Chan x fem!reader

★Genre: fluff + smut MDNI

★Word Count: 1.3k

★WARNINGS: Foolishness, unprotected sex (Don't do this) nicknames:my love, baby.

A/N: I've been really busy and a bit sad lately so I wrote this to forget my problems for a while lol, so I hope you enjoy it. English is not my first language so sorry if I made a mistake. If you like it please comment and share.

⋆｡˚୨𝖬𝖺𝗌𝗍𝖾𝗋𝗅𝗂𝗌𝗍୧˚｡⋆

The sun had been up for a long time, the noise of the lively city could be heard through the window and you could swear that you ignored some calls just to stay in bed a little longer, but it was inevitable, with the warmth of the sheets and surrounded by the arms of your boyfriend who had returned, everything else could wait.

“Are you awake?” You couldn't help the smile that appeared on your lips when you heard his voice, you had missed him so much.

“It's weird that you see me sleep, you know?” You opened one of your eyes only to see him leaning on one of his arms while he gently caressed your hair.

“I can't help it,” he came closer to leave a kiss on your forehead, “I need to know that you're here, with me.”

You felt your heart beat strongly when you heard his words and you came closer to hug him. Bang Chan was a busy person and it was hard to have to be apart when he had to go to work, but when he came back they didn't waste a second and did everything they hadn't been able to.

Sometimes they would go for walks at night holding hands, they would go to places, eat their favorite food and sometimes they would just lay in bed while enjoying each other's quality. It was like being wrapped in an invisible bubble where only the two of you existed and no one could get in.

“I'm here” you looked into his eyes, you wanted him to know that you were telling the truth, that you were speaking from the bottom of your chest “forever”

Despite the warmth that Bang Chan showed people, you knew that not anyone could get inside, but at that moment from the way he looked at you and smiled at you, you knew that you were already in his heart.

“I love you” you said without being able to avoid it and before he could say anything you kissed him. You melted into the heat of that kiss giving everything of yourself, you were completely in love with him and you knew that your heart belonged completely to him.

Between kisses and small caresses you moved all over the bed until you ended up on top of his body and a shiver ran down your spine when the sheets left your naked body. Bang Chan took your legs and caressed your skin while he looked at you with a combination of desire and admiration.

“You look beautiful just like that”

“I know” you answered mockingly while you moved your hips a little on the bulge you felt under you “I know you love seeing me on top of you” Bang Chan let out a small moan and you felt his hands tighten a little on your thighs.

“Uh huh” his hands moved down your body leaving a warm trail wherever he moved, but you stopped when his hands cupped your breasts. Bang Chan leaned forward a little until he was sitting with you on his lap and he got closer to your face “I love everything about you my love” Your mouths came together again in a warm and slow kiss, full of all the feelings that could not be expressed with words.

You stifled a moan when his hands gently squeezed your breasts and he seemed to notice, but he continued to taste your lips while his fingers hooked onto your nipples. Your hands landed on his strong shoulders and you scratched his skin when he pulled away biting your lip. The desire in your bodies was becoming more and more evident and with the kisses on your neck it was difficult to try to keep your hips still on his lap, but Bang Chan ignored your little movements while he concentrated on passing his mouth over your breasts.

You arched your back, letting his hands support your weight as he ran his tongue over one of your nipples and his teeth grazed your skin, sending shivers down your spine. Your fingers tangled in the curly locks of his hair and you closed your eyes, letting yourself be carried away by the spiral of sensations.

You moved your hips once more, looking for something to calm the tickling in your pussy, but Bang Chan grabbed your hips tightly, making you stop. You looked at him with a silent plea, and even though he wanted to stop, he couldn't at this point, he was just as needy as you.

“Chanie…” you wrapped your arms around his neck and moved your hips on his cock once more, urging him on. You heard the ragged sigh he let out and moaned when you felt the tip of his cock touch your wet walls until it reached your entrance. You sank in, feeling him slowly fill you up until he hit rock bottom.

“I love you” he said to you when you looked into his eyes.

Time stopped in your little bubble, as he thrust his hips and you felt him leave his load inside you again. Your body was marked by his bites and the traces of your nails were left on his back, his lips were swollen from the long kissing sessions and your legs trembled violently as your mind became clouded only by the pleasure you felt.

“One more” Bang Chan begged in your ear, you could only nod and open your mouth letting out his name. Bang Chan pushed his hips and you wrapped your legs around his waist while his hands moved down your body until they landed on your clit, he moved his fingers in circles making your body shudder and your pussy tighten from the sensation

“I can't take it anymore” you said holding back the tears in your eyes as you felt a wave of pleasure run through your entire body

“Come” you immediately released yourself without being able to stop it and instantly you felt Bang Chan's release spill over your thighs. His body collapsed on top of yours and you stayed still while you both caught your breath. Your hands caressed his hair while his arms surrounded you, it was as if neither of you wanted to move, until you started to feel a little suffocated by his weight.

“Baby… I think I need to breathe a little” Bang Chan moved immediately asking for your forgiveness and separated from you leaving you a void, but he helped you up before going to clean up.

After taking a shower and with clean sheets they lay down again simply enjoying each other’s company. You didn’t know when you fell asleep on his chest, but you woke up with a smile knowing that he was still by your side.

“Did you sleep well?” You nodded moving to look at him and gave him a smile.

Bang Chan took your hand and kissed your fingers, but you noticed that there was something strange in one of them, you moved your hand away and on your ring finger you noticed a ring with a shiny stone, you looked at it very carefully without understanding what was happening until Bang Chan let out a laugh.

“What is this?” you asked nervously and excitedly

“My love… you know that I have loved you from the first moment you entered that place and since then my love for you has only grown, you have supported me and helped me when I needed it and that alone has made me understand how much I want to have you in my life” his words made your heart beat with emotion and you could not control the tears that were accumulating in your eyes “that is why I want to ask you to marry me”

“Yes, of course” you said releasing the tears and hugging him tightly while he laughed and hugged you tightly knowing that he would never let you go.

𝐴��𝐿 𝑊𝑂𝑅𝐾𝑆 𝐶𝑅𝐸𝐴𝑇𝐸𝐷 𝐵𝑌 ©𝐾𝑖𝑡𝑡𝑦𝟼𝑐𝘩𝑜𝑖 𝑀𝑈𝑆𝑇 𝑁𝑂𝑇 𝐵𝐸 𝑃𝐿𝐴𝐺𝐼𝐴𝑅𝐼𝑍𝐸𝐷 𝑂𝑅 𝐶𝑂𝑃𝐼𝐸𝐷

[kathlare]

accidental introductions

Lando Norris x Amelie Dayman

Summary: A simple evening takes an unexpected turn when a FaceTime call leads to an unplanned introduction between Amelie and someone very important in Lando’s life.

Wordcount: 2.3 k

Warnings: use of substances

full masterlist // request over here!

April 25th, 2020 - London, United Kingdom

The kitchen smelled like rosemary and garlic and something else that was probably burning, but neither Lando nor his mum seemed all that bothered.

—You’re supposed to stir it, not mash it,— Cisca teased, elbowing her son gently as she took the wooden spoon from his hand. —You’re ruining the risotto, chef boyardee.—

—I'm doing my best,— Lando whined, dramatically wiping invisible sweat from his brow. —You didn’t tell me this was gonna be so intense. I feel like I’m on MasterChef—

—And you’d be the first one kicked out,— she smirked.

Lando grinned, rolled his eyes, and turned to wash his hands. —Be right back. I need the bathroom.—

He disappeared upstairs, leaving his phone on the counter beside the stove, unlocked.

Not even thirty seconds later, the screen lit up with a familiar contact photo: Amelie’s name, with a tiny Mexican flag and a cherry emoji, danced across the screen as the FaceTime call came through.

Cisca glanced at it, then at the stairs.

Rang once.

Twice.

Three times.

—Oh for heaven’s sake,— she muttered, wiping her hands on a tea towel before tapping the green button and holding the phone up. —Hello?—

The image that appeared made her blink.

A girl, beautiful, messy-haired, wearing a black hoodie way too big for her, squinted at the screen, clearly not expecting this face. Her brows furrowed before her mouth parted slightly.

—Oh… oh shit.—

—You must be Amelie,— Cisca said with a warm smile, already amused. —Hi, love. I’m Lando’s mum. I think he ran away from the kitchen before he could burn anything else.—

Amelie blinked, frozen in place like someone had hit pause on her entire existence.

—You’re… you’re his mum?— she repeated, eyes wide. Her voice jumped half an octave. —Oh my god, hi! I didn’t... I didn’t mean to... shit. I mean. Sorry. Hi. I didn’t know he wasn’t gonna answer.—

Cisca laughed, the kind of laugh that made you want to be friends with her immediately. —It’s alright, darling. I’ve heard your voice coming out of that phone so many times, I feel like I already know you.—

Amelie looked like a deer caught in the headlights of a very charming British Range Rover.

—He talks about me?— she asked before she could stop herself, her voice too hopeful, too curious. Her brain immediately screamed at her to shut the fuck up, but it was too late. Words were out. The damage was done.

Cisca raised an eyebrow, clearly clocking that exact tone. —Not in so many words,— she teased, stirring the risotto again with one hand, —but he smiles at his phone like an idiot when he’s talking to you, so I’ve put the pieces together.—

Amelie groaned and let her head drop into her hands. —Okay, I’m logging off forever. Tell Lando he can find another gaming buddy. Or a funeral livestream.—

—Oh, don’t be silly,— Cisca chuckled. —I like hearing him laugh. There aren’t many people who get him out of that little brooding cloud he likes to live in. You’re good for him.—

Amelie peeked up through her fingers, cheeks fully pink now. —I’m not… I mean, I just... we’re just friends.—

Cisca gave a sly smile. Uh huh. Sure.

The camera shifted a bit as she walked over to the stove and gave the risotto a final stir. Amelie could now see the cozy kitchen in full—warm wood cabinets, vintage tea tins stacked by the window, a spice rack that clearly got used—it all felt like a real home. The kind you actually missed when you were away.

The sound of feet bounding down the stairs broke the moment.

—Did I miss something?— Lando called, and then paused as he stepped into the kitchen. His eyes landed on his mum holding his phone, then on the screen.

He blinked. —Wait, are you... did you answer my FaceTime?!—

—She’s lovely, by the way,— Cisca said, completely ignoring him as she handed over the phone like nothing had happened.

Lando looked from her to the screen and back. —Mum! You can’t just... Jesus.—

Amelie was still recovering, trying very hard to look casual as if she hadn’t just been mid–existential crisis. —Hey, chef boyardee. Your mum’s iconic.—

He groaned and covered his face with one hand. —I’m never leaving my phone unattended again.—

—Probably smart,— Amelie teased, regaining her usual confidence now that the shock had passed. —Your mum just called me “good for you.” What are you gonna do about that, huh?—

Lando turned roughly the shade of a strawberry. —I’m gonna pretend that didn’t happen and continue burning dinner. Cool? Cool.—

Cisca, of course, wasn’t done. —You know, Amelie, if you ever fancy some actual food and not whatever abomination he microwaves for himself most days, you’re welcome here anytime.—

—Mum!— Lando hissed, completely scandalized. —You're literally inviting a girl I game with across the ocean in the middle of a pandemic.—

—Well, if she ever does end up in London, don’t be an idiot and make her stay in a hotel,— Cisca said, winking at the screen. —She can have the guest room. The good one, not the one that smells like damp towels.—

—Is this a British mum thing?— Amelie deadpanned. —Because my mum would interrogate anyone who so much as looked at me too long.—

—Oh, don’t worry, darling. That’s just the second meeting.—

Lando practically faceplanted against the counter. —This is a nightmare.—

—You’re welcome, sweetheart,— Cisca sang, and then turned away like she hadn't just completely rearranged her son’s emotional equilibrium.

Amelie bit her lip, trying hard not to grin too much. Her heart was hammering way harder than it should have been. She met his mum. By accident. And his mum liked her. That shouldn’t have meant anything. They were just friends. Just friends.

So why did it feel like a door had been kicked wide open?

She watched Lando glance at her again, his cheeks still flushed, but his eyes soft. He looked completely knocked off balance.

And for a second—just a second—Amelie wondered what it would be like to not run from that idea.

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

liked by charleslemonade, lanmelieupdates, and others

twitchquintetdaily: 🚨 THEY’RE LIVE 🚨 Amelie, Charles & Lando just went live playing Fortnite and the chaos is already off the charts 😭 catch them third-wheeling each other in real time rn 🕹️🍿 twitch.tv/landonorris 🎧💅

View all 22,009 comments

f1streamshenanigans: Lando yelling “BABE REVIVE ME” and Charles just watching him die is cinema → daymaniac4life: @f1streamshenanigans I SWEAR he forgets we can hear him 😭 → lanmeliecore: @f1streamshenanigans “babe” ??? be serious rn → fraudnando: @f1streamshenanigans that was a jump scare and a proposal in one breath

charleslemonade: Charles trying to build and just spinning in a circle is the reason I believe in God → amelieonscreen: @charleslemonade he really plays like someone’s dad at an arcade → quintetchaos: @charleslemonade Amelie: carrying the whole team

lanmelieupdates: the way Lando keeps asking if she’s “got heals” like he’s not fully blushing → maxiewrld: @lanmelieupdates mans is down BAD on main and on twitch

fortnitelando: Charles saying “I feel like a chaperone” is the most accurate commentary of the night → camillesburner: @fortnitelando he’s the only thing keeping this from becoming a romcom speedrun → streammama: @fortnitelando and he’s failing. they’re one flirting session away from eloping on mic.

lanmeliefan72: Lando pretending he’s not obsessed with her while missing every shot is SO FUNNY → fortnitegf: @lanmelifan72 bro’s aim gets worse the closer Amelie’s avatar gets 😭😭

charleslemonade: Charles is 100% third-wheeling and knows it

ameliesbangs: why does Amelie trash talk like she’s in a 2004 CoD lobby 😭 → vroomygirlie: @ameliesbangs she called Lando a “pink helmeted liability” and I haven’t recovered

twitchgirly999: Charles every 2 seconds: “GUYS? where are you?” → scuderiacore: @twitchgirly999 literally the forgotten middle child of the squad rn 💀 → chilis4lyf: @twitchgirly999 justice for charles but also this is hilarious

ameliesburnbook: they’ve been live for 10 mins and Lando’s already offered her a medkit and all his dignity → charleslemonade: @ameliesburnbook he’s practically on one knee with a chug jug

lanmelieupdates: Lando: “wait don’t push yet, Amelie’s still looting” …she’s got him TRAINED → ghostedbygasly: @lanmelieupdates soft launch speedrun

alexisbored: she made fun of his aim and he giggled. i’m gonna go lie down → fernsandfriends: @alexisbored why is he BLUSHING through a headset

gaslysrevenge: charles third wheeling with grace, like a true gentleman → tifosithotwife: @gaslyrevenge he’s been through it before. he knows the signs 💀

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

After two hours of failing spectacularly at Fortnite, Amelie was certain the universe was punishing her. The stream had been chaos: Charles kept blowing himself up with rockets, Lando was giggling more than shooting, and Amelie, well… she’d mostly been too distracted. The chat had loved it—clips were already going viral of her mock-raging at Charles in dramatic Spanish while Lando wheezed in the background—but the moment she clicked end stream, the silence in her house returned like a tide.

She sighed, pushing back from her desk chair. The light from her dual monitors flickered once, then dimmed into standby as she stretched, spine cracking from hours of bad posture. Her hair was a mess, her hoodie half-on, and her knees were cold. Classic gaming aftermath.

In the bathroom, the shower hissed to life, and she let herself stand under the hot water longer than usual. Let it sting a little. Let it soak through the ache in her chest—the kind that never fully left. Not since him. Not since Cameron.

But this wasn’t a bad day, not really. Just… a soft one. A quiet kind of ache. She could feel it in her bones, and apparently, so could Björn.

When she stepped back into the living room wrapped in a towel and her old Mariah Carey shirt, she found the usually aloof cat curled on her blanket nest, tail flicking softly, yellow eyes watching her with more attention than usual.

—Okay, now you want to hang out?— she asked, padding barefoot across the hardwood and collapsing onto the couch beside him. He didn’t bolt. Instead, Björn stretched—long and lazy—and allowed her to scratch behind his ears.

It was strange. He’d been distant all week. Moody, almost. And now here he was, purring like an old car engine.

She settled into the cushions, tugging the blanket around her legs and reaching for her phone to order food. Thai, maybe. Or sushi. Or both. Screw it—she was hungry, and emotionally delicate enough to justify a feast.

As she scrolled through delivery apps, Björn shifted again, pressing the full weight of his body into her thigh like a little heater. His purring deepened. She raised an eyebrow at him.

—You okay, buddy? You’re not usually this clingy.—

He blinked slowly up at her and bumped his head against her arm. She sighed, her chest tightening for no good reason, and kissed the top of his head.

—Yeah. Me neither.—

She placed the order—pad see ew, tuna nigiri, spring rolls—and set the phone aside. A movie would help. Something easy. Familiar. Howl’s Moving Castle was already in her continue-watching queue, so she hit play and pulled Björn closer. The opening credits rolled, music soft and glittering through the speakers, and for a while, she let it wash over her. No pressure. No expectations. Just her, a weirdly affectionate cat, and Studio Ghibli.

Her phone buzzed once. Then again.

She blinked, leaned forward, and saw the name lighting up the screen.

Lan

She didn’t hesitate this time. She swiped to answer and lifted the phone to her ear, voice still a little soft from the mood.

—Hey.—

His voice came back warm and easy. —Hey, Ames. You okay?—

Her eyes flicked to the TV, then to Björn still purring against her side. She hesitated a second too long.

—Yeah. I’m fine. Just tired.—

A pause.

—Bad day?— he asked gently.

She smiled a little, eyes dropping to the blanket tangled around her legs. —Not bad. Just… you know. Soft. Missing people. That kind of thing.—

He didn’t fill the silence right away, and she was glad. Sometimes the right kind of company was the kind that didn’t rush in with solutions. Just let it sit.

—My mum thinks you're lovely, by the way,— he said finally, and she could hear the tiny grin in his voice.

Amelie groaned, flopping back against the cushions. —Oh my god. Are we still talking about that? I’ve never been more humiliated in my life.—

—You were humiliated? She called me Chef Boyardee in front of you. I’ll never recover.—

She laughed. The first real one of the day. —You kind of deserved it, though. That risotto looked like baby food.—

—Excuse me. That was a brave artistic take on Italian cuisine.—

—That was a war crime.—

He chuckled. Then, a beat later, —I’m glad you called. Even if you ended up talking to my mum.—

Amelie traced a finger through Björn’s fur. Her chest didn’t feel quite as tight anymore. —I didn’t mean to. I just… wanted to hear your voice, I guess. That sounds lame. Never mind.—

—It’s not lame. I like when you call. Even when you’re yelling at Charles in three languages.—

Her heart did that annoying thing where it squeezed and fluttered and pulled all at once. She swallowed, the quiet of the living room somehow louder than it had been.

—You always call at the right time,— she murmured.

—Yeah?—

—Yeah.—

Another pause, but this one felt warm. Intentional.

Then Lando’s voice, soft and low and maybe a little shy: —Do you want to fall asleep on the phone again tonight? I can stay on while you eat, if you want. Or just… be there.—

She blinked, surprised by the sudden sting behind her eyes.

—Yeah,— she whispered. —I’d like that.—

—Okay. Good. I’ll stay.—

Björn shifted again, curling even closer.

On the screen, Howl floated down from the sky, Sophie’s hand in his.

And for the first time all day, Amelie didn’t feel quite so alone.

[curly-fry-3]

I don't know if you write for wlw themes since all your posts are wlm, so if you don't just ignore this, I'll understand.

So I wanted to request daughter-reader after having a bf for maybe a year breaking up cause she released 'holy shit I'm a lesbo' and they like broke up on good turns like he sure he was a bit sad but understanding and they both stayed friends. So now she somehow has to tell Dean, like she knows Dean probably wouldn't be mad at her but still she's a nervous wreck, and he liked her, now, ex bf much and almost treated him like family (You can continue from here if you write for wlw themes like I said already (*ᴗ͈ˬᴗ͈)ꕤ*.ﾟ)

𖦹Home of Sexual𖦹

summary𖦹 Dean realizes he hasn't seen you hang around your boyfriend in a while and needs you to explain the sudden shift on your behavior

pairing𖦹 Dean Winchester x Daughter!Reader

word count𖦹 1,276

notes𖦹 this request took me a while be cause IT IS AMAZING and needed to be handled with love and care

It had been a year. A year of dating your now ex boyfriend. You loved him, of course you loved him, but something just always felt off. You didn't understand why girls loved kissing their boyfriends or why other girls had a hard time staying celibate. You had always felt like something was wrong with you, that maybe you were broken. It took some self reflection–and a little exploration on the internet–for you to realise the truth. You're a raging lesbian. 

If you had come to this realization under any other circumstances it would have been no big deal, it’s the 21st century #pride or whatever. But this wasn't any regular coming out. You had a boyfriend you had to break up with. A boyfriend that your dad really liked. Your dad, Dean friggin Winchester, had gotten over the fact that his baby girl was dating a boy and had started treating the kid like family. So of course, when you broke up with him, you did not tell Dean–you didnt wanna break his heart. You also maybe we're sort of kinda nervous to tell your dad the reason things ended, it's always hard coming out. 

Your ex and you had split on good terms. Sure he was sad about it but he understood–it's not like you didn't want him you just didn't want boys (the problem really was you not him). But just because you two didn't hate each other doesnt mean you were best friends. Dean had noticed that he wasn't coming around as much. At first he didnt wanna ask about it; maybe you two were in a rough patch, you just needed to sort stuff out. But after a month of not seeing the kid he got curious (he missed him), He decided it was time to ask you what happened.

You were in your room one day after school. Dean noticed you doing that a lot lately, locking yourself away. He walked in and found you sitting on your bed scrolling on your phone. Working up the courage to start the conversation, he started picking up trinkets on your dresser and looking at them before setting them back down. Noticing your dads odd behavior, you cleared your throat and got his attention. He put down the toy in his hand and turned to you, leaning his body on the dresser and folding his arms over his chest. You put your phone down and sat up higher in your bed, “do you need something”

Dean rubs his hand over his face and stands up straighter “um kid you know you can tell me anything right”

You give him a questioning look “uh yeah, what is this about”

“Its just…I haven't seen your boyfriend in a while…you can tell me if there's trouble in paradise”

You freeze up a bit “oh…that”

He notices your change in behavior and his face hardens in confusion and worry “Are you two ok?”

You avoid eye contact and answer “well, yes…actually no, we um…broke up”

His gaze softens and he steps closer to the bed to comfort you. He reaches out and rubs soothing circles on your shoulders.“Aw sweetheart, I'm so sorry, you wanna talk about it? What happened?” You awkwardly shrug and look up at him “It was mutual”

He scenes your reluctance to give a clear answer and stops his soothing motions “Did he do something”

“N- No, no. He didn't do anything it just wasn't gonna work out” You stumble out

Dean immediately relaxes but doesn't stop his questioning “There has to be more than that, you guys were together for like a year”

“Im sorry dad, I know you liked him” You respond, looking down at your lap

He rolls his eyes and crosses his arms over his chest again “Sure I liked him but I like you a hell of a lot more. Sweetheart, you sure you're ok? You can talk to me–tell me why.”

You look up at him anxiously “No judgement?”

“Do you seriously have to ask that, of course no judgment” he reassures

“ok…We broke up not because of any fight or anything…I just um…realized that it wouldn't work out because…I like girls”

“Oh?” Dean looks down at the floor for a second in contemplation then looks back at you “Oh!” His jaw is slack as he thinks about how to respond

You look around your room awkwardly “yeah”

He regains his composure “ok…cant say its too shocking but I still didn't expect it”

You focus back on him “Wait what”

He shrugs and continues “I mean, I know you only liked watching that live action scooby-doo cause of velma in the latex, can't blame you”

Your eyebrows scrunch in confusion and your voice raises “You knew!”

He puts his hands up in defence “I thought it could be maybe a phase or maybe you wanted to be her…maybe you swung both ways. I just never thought you would only like girls…You only like girls, right?”

“Um yeah pretty much” You respond 

He rocks back and forth on the balls of his feet while processing what you said “so you're a lesbian?”

You nod “Yeah…wait you're like totally chill with this”

He looks at you with slight disbelief “Of course, why wouldn't I be?”

“I mean I didn't think you would be anti but I thought you'd have more of a reaction” You answer

“I like girls, you like girls, so what” He says, nonchalantly 

“I mean, I guess you're right” You agree

His expression turns serious and he lowers his head to catch your gaze“I'm glad you felt like you could tell me…cause you can tell me anything you know”

You look up at him “I know”

He relaxes a little and unfolds his arms, placing one hand on your shoulder “Good”

You stay like that for a second before dean interrupts the silence “Are you and him like done. Like is he never gonna come over”

You try to hold back your smile “yeah im pretty sure he doesnt wanna see me again”

Dean sheepishly asks “yeah, but do you think he would want to see me”

You chuckle slightly “are you serious”

He pulls his arm back and puts his hands in the air, exasperated. “He was a good kid. I'm not gonna apologize for liking him” He put his hands in his front pockets then mutters under his breath “at least he would want to watch football with me”

“Hey!” You interject “I heard that. Football is boring”

Dean makes a disgusted face “Football is the backbone of american culture, you would know that if you would watch a game with me”

You shrug “i'm ok with not knowing”

He looks down at his feet and sighs knowing that he isn't gonna win this one. As he looks back up at you, he gives you a warm smile “you ok…sure you two broke up for a good reason but you still cared about him”

You nod “i'll be ok”

“Good…now that that's over, you have to hang out with me again, I feel like you're always in your room.” He says

After Dean pulls you out of your bed you spend the rest of the night eating junk food and watching TV. He knew the breakup was still hard for you so he didn't even try to make you watch sports with him. Halfway through the movie you picked, you had fallen asleep on his shoulder. Maybe you were a little different now, but that doesn't mean things have to change. You're still Dean's baby girl and he’ll love you just the same.

sorry if there are any typos and I hope you love it

@areswasneverhere

[serejae]

WE CANT BE FRIENDS | 16. BUT ID LIKE TO JUST PRETEND

(written)

prev | next

warning: im gonna pretend we're in korea for this chapter so jaehyun can drink LOLSIES, i also know barely anything about drinking so if its not accurate OOPS #20y/owhocantdrinkstrugglesbcshesscaredofthelaw

mstl

taglist @lilriswife4life @cherrytaesan @tubatu-lovie @woonsbot @guiltysungho @taylorluvation @kage-yaa @lionhanie @dearly-somber @nicholasluvbot @nujeskz @unhakki @lblossom21 @crispy-kirby @seunghancore @nctrawberries @i03jae @icewons @miidorei @hanbinniesmango @helpsplease @dongminz

ps: it doesnt get better from here until wayyy after ;-)

(a few minutes ago) EPISODE 5

"what are we even supposed to do?" jaehyun said as he took another shot. "i uh have to ask you questions" woonhak explained as he repositioned the camera up to face jaehyun. jaehyun hummed as he took another shot "are you okay? you took like 10 shots since we got here and i haven't even started recording yet" woonhak looked up from the camera concerned. "pfft what do you know about drinking" jaehyun laughed looking at woonhak, woonhak scoffed "not much, but i know this relates back to yn". the older one looked away "just record or something i don't know..."

"now we have myung jaehyun. i'll ask you questions and you can answer away from yn. i assure you she won't see this footage...well unless she watches this but that's beside the point." woonhak adjusted the camera a bit. "so i CAN answer the question? i have a choice?" jaehyun asked rather tipsy. "no sorry, you WILL answer these."

"what are your opinions on L/N Y/N?"

jaehyun took another shot before answering. "Yn? she's...I MISS HER" he suddenly erupted into tears taking back woonhak but content is content...

"i cant live without her i dont know how i haven't died yet during these 2 years. shes all i constantly think about, when i go to the store, i think about her, when i sleep, i think about her, when I'm even in my fucking office i think about her and that was the main thing that drove me away from her." he sobbed into his hands. woonhak giggled a bit at the sight and zoomed into jaehyun crying. "I'm gonna have to put a 'her' count in here..."

"I thought you ended things because of music, your job?"

"FUCK THE JOB! i'm done, i'll take it all back and work at fucking wendys if it means i can stay with her. my music career is a flop! YOU know" jaehyun pointed at woonhak to which he nods "THEY know" he pointed at the camera "SHE knows" he points at his heart "I just cant take not being around her anymore. we don't have to be friends we don't have to date again I just want her back in my life completely without messing everything up. i'd literally argue with her for the rest of my life even if it hurts me rather than never talk to her at all and it hurts because she makes it look so simple, not missing me, not talking to me. but it's fair enough isn't it? if i had just shut my mouth for that one day i would've realized that music doesn't compare to her, but why'd i have to realize so late?"

"do you still think about her?"

"of course i do" he cried even more, woonhak was pretty sure jaehyuns drink was more tears than alcohol now "you know..." jaehyun giggled for a second 'the roman empire? how its like a joke that all guys think of it often, she, y/n are you watching this?" jaehyun gets close to the camera, his nose touching the lens, too drunk to realize anything. "yn, you're my roman empire, there's not a second i don't think about you. i wake up , its you, i go to sleep, its you, i eat, its you, hell i could strip right now and dance-“ “that's enough" woonhak stops him. "i just wonder why you think so deeply about her, shes just a girl-" jaehyun cuts woonhaks words offended "DONT. shes not just some random girl, shes yn. the first person who understood me, the first person i felt comfortable with, the first person to support my music career, and i just, let her go. for the same music career i left her for. clearly, you've never been in love or never been in love and lost that same person due to your dumb actions..."

"then why were you acting so cold to her today?"

"fuck, woonhak. its all a persona, i'm trying to convince myself I'm over her, but clearly, it's not working, at all. even today i used all the force in me not to fold and when i complained about it on my twitter this random sea jae something account commented...but i remember she did comment under my comment saying "its not like me and her will get together" with a "haha" like what does that mean...is it a sign from the universe?" jaehyun looked over at woonhak with a sad smile trying to convince himself he's not that effected by you despite going on a 30 minute rant about you. woonhak laughed a bit. jaehyun looked down at his shot glass and stared.

"do you think she misses me...like ever?" he turned again to woonhak who stared at jaehyun in pity. "she-" woonhak paused and shook his head "directors shouldn't get involved" jaehyuns body shot over to face woonhak "YOUR NOT A DIRECTOR YOUR A 17 YEAR OLD BOY" "18 in Korea" woonhak added "I DONT CARE, YOUR A 17 OR 18 BOY WHO IS FAILING HIS FILM MAKING CLASS WITH A NEGATIVE NUMBER. WHAT DOES SHE SAY ABOUT ME."

"fine, i'll show you." woonhak logs into his phone and text you to help him out. "oops, phone died" jaehyun groaned and face planted into the table.

(NOW)

you texted woonhak that you were outside and you saw him drag jaehyun out. "damn he's out." taesan said from your backseat. you hum in agreement. woonhak approaches the car and opens the back seat to throw jaehyun in until taesan stops him "put jaehyun in the passenger seat" "but you're back here-"

"woonhak. put. jaehyun. in. the. damn. front. seat."

woonhak placed jaehyun in the front seat and got in the back.

jaehyun turned his head to you as you were driving

"yn?" he asked softly "yeah?" "do you ever miss me?"

you dont reply, looking in your rear view mirror you see woonhak and taesan sleeping. sighing you turn back to jaehyun when you stop at a red light, he looked at you with soft doe eyes that could break any minute. but you couldn't help but admire his features shining in the red light, you hadn't got a good look at him until now and damn, he was still so...

BEEP

right. "back then yeah" you lied, or maybe not, who cares

"i still miss you, a lot. Every day i wake up and my heart aches for you, only to see an empty cold space in the spot next to me. i know, i know everyone tells me and i got the signal from you, i know I'm stupid for ending a relationship over music, SoundCloud especially but i don't want to move on. if i put on earth with one other girl and her only i wouldn't even speak to her, i'd make a stick doll and name it after you, talk to it every day, because yn, you're the only person I've ever needed and i hate that i lost the one person who kept me going, that i still dream of, that i can't move on from, i just wish i didn't let you go at all.

do you...still think we'd be together if i hadn't ruined us?"

you pause staring at the gearstick "maybe in another life" you replied lowly afraid your voice would crack. you blink back tears refusing to even look at him. you hear him catch his breath and realize he's crying "i just wish it could be this life. i want it to be this life, yn, I'll do anything for it to be this life please. let me back in your life."

"jaehyun no, you're drunk"

"drunk words are sober thoughts"

taesan said from the backseat still with his eyes closed. you realize both woonhak and taesan have been faking sleeping the entire time.

"get out" you said. taesan opened his eyes and realized yall were in front of his and jaehyuns house. OH RIGHT, thanks yn" you hum as you watch taesan help jaehyun out. "take care" you said to both of them, before jaehyun gets through the door he turns back at you and smiles softly

"ugh i shouldve recorded that"

oh.

you forgot he was there.

[turtlecleric]

CWs: thoughts of suicide, suicide attempt

-

There are no stars here.

There were stars in the country. You remember staring up at them on nights when you couldn't sleep, getting lost in the constellations until your eyes got heavy enough to stay closed. Here, though, when you look up, there's just… darkness. An endless expanse of nothing. Almost like the stars themselves decided it wasn't worth it anymore to stick around. Light pollution, smog, yeah yeah, you know. But maybe… maybe the stars just decided to leave. To start fresh.

Or maybe… they decided to finally rest.

The wind cuts through your thin jacket, chilling your skin. Your feet sway where they hang in the air, over the side of the roof, and when you lean forward, peering down at the city below, you think you should be feeling some sort of vertigo. A bit of fear, maybe. Instead you feel… nothing. Just cold, and stiff, and tired.

You miss the stars. But you understand why they left.

The city is a blur of light and movement. There are thousands of people down there, even now, at this late hour, going about their lives. It's so busy here. Always busy and bustling and alive in a way that doesn't come naturally to you.

Out of place. That's what you are. That's what you've always been. But not for much longer.

“What are you doing?” a voice stage-whispers nearby. You inhale sharply, whirling around to see… nothing. You scan the empty roof, eyes wide, your heart lodged in your throat. There shouldn't be anyone up here. You checked to make sure when you first came up, and there had been no one. If someone had come through the door, you would've heard the heavy, ancient thing creaking on its hinges, and the ladder is to your right, so you would've seen if someone came up the fire escape. So there shouldn't be anyone up here.

“Sorry, I didn't mean to scare you. I know this is weird or whatever,” the voice continues. It sounds like… a guy. Honestly, he sounds like a fucking dork, with the way he's whispering so loudly. “It's just that, like, Leo would kill me if I let myself get seen, but you've been here for a while and it's pretty late, or- I don't know, early? Whatever, but I had to check on you, y'know? So, like, are you good?”

…This is weird. Right? Yeah, this is definitely weird. The guy, wherever he is, doesn't… sound like someone you need to worry about, though. Something about the way he talks makes you feel like… talking back.

“I'm good,” you say slowly, the words feeling foreign in your mouth. You twist around further, still scanning the empty roof for signs of movement. “How did you… get up here?”

“Uhhhhhh same way you did?”

Okay so he's a terrible liar. Despite everything, it makes the corner of your mouth twitch upward. “Right. Sure.” You scoot back and swing both legs back up so you can stand, your muscles protesting from sitting still for so long. You take a few steps away from the ledge, peering around you. “And where are you exactly?”

His voice goes from a stage whisper to a cheesy imitation of a ghost, and yeah, okay, this is the weirdest thing that's ever happened to you, but you can't help laughing when he croons, “I'm a hallucinaaatioooon.”

“Uh huh. A hallucination.” There are a few vents on the roof. You start to walk between them, circling each one in the hope that you'll find this guy crouched behind one, but no such luck. “A hallucination that will get in trouble with the big boss for being seen? Is that what you said?”

“Pshhhh Leo isn't the boss of me. Well, I- I guess like sort of, in a way, but not like- I mean- Dad is the- okay, no, we were talking about you. What are you doing up here? Aren't you cold?”

You cross your arms, feeling a bit petulant at the question, though you're not sure why. Yes, you're cold. But it's… fine. “Are you cold?”

“Answering a question with a question, huh?” You hear a nervous chuckle from… somewhere. “Donnie does that when I'm being- oh shit, am I bothering you right now? I am, aren't I? I'm sorry, I just wanted to make sure you were okay. I'll- sorry, I'll let you get back to, uh, sitting.”

“No!” You reach out a hand toward nothing, feeling more than a little silly as you continue to look around you in vain. The roof is still empty. “No, please, I…”

You… what? Want to keep talking? Missed feeling seen? Maybe he is a hallucination. Maybe this is your brain's last attempt at stopping you. But… it's true. You do want to keep talking.

That's just pathetic, isn't it? Sad, lonely little girl, wanting to be seen so badly that she'll hallucinate someone to ask if she's okay. There's no one here. You're alone.

You're alone.

Everything you had been feeling before you came up here returns, all at once, like a crashing wave, smothering you beneath the crushing pressure. Your throat tightens. Your lungs burn. There's a fog in your mind and a black hole in your chest and you're shivering but it's not from the cold.

…You've put this off long enough. It's time to stop pretending.

Your shoes scuff against the roof as you approach the ledge. A gust of wind makes you sway dangerously, and you think you hear the voice again, but the roaring in your ears is too loud.

Just one more step. One more step. One more. Just. Just-

Something yanks you by the arm, and you stumble backward, bumping into something big and solid. You're wildly disoriented for a few seconds, still getting your feet steady beneath you, and then you look up to see…

Okay. You're definitely hallucinating.

“What are you doing?!” The man (??) asks, frantic concern etched into every line of his face.

His face. Green skin. No hair. And no ears, and more of a snout than a nose, and a- a mask over his eyes? For some reason? You're officially losing it.

The man snaps his fingers - there are fewer than there should be, you notice - in your face, and his other hand rests on your shoulder, holding you in place. “Focus on me, angel, okay? Can you hear me? Are you okay? What were you doing?”

He's talking so fast you don't even get a chance to answer each question before he's asking the next. You stand there, watching him fret, and Jesus, he's huge. With a big… something? On his back? A shell? You look him up and down and back up again before you finally find your voice.

“Are you a turtle?”

He stops moving, going quiet, and seems to suddenly realize something. His expression turns sheepish, almost afraid, and he pulls his hands back to fidget with them in front of his stomach. You feel unmoored without the weight of his hand on your shoulder. “Yeah, actually. I am. Sorry, I… guess I should've… I'm… I'm Mikey.”

Mikey. There's no way this is real. Still, it feels rude to not introduce yourself in turn. Mikey seems to relax when you tell him your name, but the concern returns quickly, and this time when he speaks, he does so quietly.

“What were you doing?”

Is this… your brain trying to… get you to face what you're trying to do? Somehow? You know what you're trying to do. You've been thinking about it for months. Where were these hallucinations before you quit your job? Before you sold nearly everything you own and let your lease run out and cut off the few people who have tried to make a connection with you since you moved here? You're so tired. You're so…

“You know what I was doing, Mikey.”

There's silence as you stare at each other. You watch his expression shift from confusion to dread to sadness. He looks from you to the edge of the roof and back, and his eyes start to water, and you can't, you can't, you can't do this. That's not fair. It's not fair for your mind to come up with a giant turtle man and then make you feel bad for him being sad. That's fucking ridiculous!

…But you do. Feel bad. Mikey looks lost, and scared, and sad - and you hate it.

“Sorry,” you murmur.

Mikey makes an aborted movement with his arms, then shakes his head. He opens his mouth, then closes it, then opens it again. “Can I hug you?”

Well, now, this really is pathetic, isn't it? When was the last time someone hugged you? Is your brain that desperate for comfort?

…What do you have to lose?

As soon as you nod, Mikey puts his arms around you and pulls you close. His arms shake, just a little, but you feel secure in his hold. Your cheek rests against his chest, and it's… oddly firm. Textured. Warmer than the air, but still a bit cool to the touch. You can feel his chest moving as he breathes. It feels so real. And you… you don't want him to let go.

It's pathetic, fine, sure, whatever, you don't care, but when you start to sob and he only holds you tighter, you're so, so thankful that he's here.

You let yourself cry. He stays quiet, a steady presence that keeps you grounded, and when your sobs turn to sniffles, he's still holding you. It still feels real. It can't be real, it can't be, but honestly? Fuck it. Fuck everything. You really, truly, do not care. It feels good to be held. It feels good to be seen. To be… cared for. Your brain can hallucinate whatever it wants at this point, as long as Mikey is there, too.

When he starts to pull back, you cling to him. Embarrassing. Whatever. He stops pulling away though, holding you close again.

“Do you want me to take you home?” he asks.

“Don't have one anymore.”

“Oh. My bad.”

For some reason, that makes you smile. Your hallucination, which manifested because you were going to kill yourself, is apologizing for not knowing that you were homeless, which you did in preparation for said killing of said self. Yeah, no, that's funny. That's fucking hilarious.

Maybe you're a little sleep deprived, actually.

“Can I…” Mikey hesitates, his fingers tapping against where he's still holding you. “Do you maybe want to stay with me? For tonight? It's pretty late, so… you'll need a place to sleep, yeah? N-Not that I was, like, saying that- I mean, I'll take the couch obviously, so-”

Oh my god. He'd be sort of adorable if he were real. You let him stumble over his words for juuust a little longer before putting him out of his misery. “That sounds nice, Mikey.”

“Ye-Yeah? Okay. Okay. Cool. So I'll. Um.”

You yelp as he shifts his arms and picks you up like it's nothing, carrying you bridal-style. You look up at him with wide eyes, and he smiles hesitantly down at you. “Ready?”

You blink. Ready for… what? But, as you've already clearly established in your head, you're done questioning things. So. You nod.

“Alright. Uh. Don't freak out. Here we go.”

Don't freak- JESUS CHRIST. The air whips past you as he sprints across the roof and leaps into the fucking air. For a split second you're sure that you actually did step off the roof, that the hallucination has finally ended and it was just your brain scrambling to make shit up in the moment before you plummeted to your death - but then you feel the impact of Mikey landing on something and continuing his sprint. Then it happens again, a leap and a free fall and another impact, and then it happens again, and you realize he's- he's jumping between roofs. Carrying you across the city from way up here. How-

Nope. Nope. Not asking questions. Doesn't matter. He's got you. That's what matters. You press closer, loosely curling your fingers around a leather strap that's crossing over his chest. Another leap, and you think you're sort of, kind of, maybe getting used to it. There's a sort of rhythm to it, and you let yourself relax. You wonder if the rhythm is soothing or if you're just that exhausted. You wonder if any part of this is real. You wonder if you're falling asleep or falling to your death.

It doesn't matter, you decide. Either way, you'll finally be able to rest.

[swee7dream]

how would the dreamies react to their s/o regressing for the first time in front of them after being super stressed and not being able to be a little ? ^^

it’s been a long time caregiver!nct dream x gender-neutral!regressor!reader

genres sfw age regression content, established relationship, hurt / comfort, angst in some, bits of fluff in all warnings involuntary / vent regression, regression block, negative self-talk, haechan's is long sry dni if you sexualize age regression. not only blocking but also reporting.

author’s note i'm SO sorry this took so long for me to get out. i promise i didn't forget about you, nonnie! i might've geared a little bit ( a lot ) off the prompt at times but i still hope you like it ! thx 4 requesting !

mark lee (ᓀ‸ᓂ) wc 642

With all your responsibilities lately, Mark finds it logical that you don’t regress as often as you used to. The last time he remembers was over three months ago. He misses taking care of you, hearing your sweet voice call out for your 'Mack!'. But he doesn’t want to burden you even more with any expectations to do anything you weren’t feeling up to do. He wasn’t planning to bring it up. Honest.

That was until you started coming home to avoid his kisses and go straight to bed. That moment left a pang in his heart.

In the silence and tension of your apartment, Mark finds himself in your little corner of tiny things, picking up your toys and dusting off your coloring books with longing. He misses his baby, so he’s going to get his baby back, he decides, no matter what it takes.

“Oh look, that new Disney movie came out you said you wanted to go see it, right?”

“I’m tired, Mark.”

“…okay.” He bites the inside of his cheek.

Just keep trying, Mark. You got this.

“Babe, I’m doing laundry. You want me to wash Cheese Doodle?” He knocks at your office door.

“Huh?” You raise your head as if you were a fish out of water. “Uh, yeah. That’s fine. Thank you.”

Hmph.

“What is that?” You give the box in Mark’s hand a look.

“It’s a game. Picked it up at the store. It’s like… Twister? But there’s something different about it. I dunno, I didn’t pay attention to the label and just bought it. Chenle asked that we bring some kind of board game for his party on Saturday.”

“Oh. Well, I have a thing on Saturday so tell him I can’t go but I hope everyone has fun.”

As the saying goes, the fourth time’s a charm.

“You’re not going to bed?” You rub your eyes, already in your night clothes and under the sheets.

“Not really tired,” he replies with a shrug as he makes his way out into the kitchen. “I think I’m gonna make myself some angel milk to get the sleeping juices going. That always worked for you. You want some?”

You’re already pretty tired, the events of the day had sucked every last drop of potential energy from you. Still, some angel milk in all its sweet, vanilla-tasting glory makes you lick your lips.

“…yeah. Please,” you answer.

When he comes back from the kitchen, he has your warm drink in one hand and Cheese Doodle—your orange puppy stuffie—in the other.

“Sit up for me, baby,” he says softly as he sits down on the edge of the bed, not wanting to spill anything from your favorite mug.

“Unicorn…!” You notice, taking the pink and rainbow cup in your two sleeve-clad hands. “Thank you.”

“Mhm.” Mark smiles. “and I just took cheese doodle out of the laundry too. Used the fabric softener that you like. Wanna feel?”

“Oh.” In a second, you’re like a cat rubbing your cheek against Cheese Doodle’s fur. “Smells good, Markie. Thank you.”

”Of course, baby. Feeling tiny?” He asks only now that he’s 95% sure you are.

”Little bit,” you admit into your mug, slurping quietly to not burn yourself.

”Aw.” He pouts. “That’s good. You know, Markie missed you, baby. I haven’t held my baby in such a long time.”

”Missed Markie too.” You blink at him with sleepy eyes and a milk mustache. “Lot.”

”Wanna cuddle for a little then?”

”Just for a lil' bit.” You nod, placing your angel milk on the bedside table.

Mark knows the mug will be forgotten by the morning but he'd rather make and waste a million angel milks than for you to forget him and Cheese Doodle again.

huang renjun ૮ ˙Ⱉ˙ ა wc 594

“Oh that’s a nice painting, Jun,” you praise, resting your chin on his shoulder as he sits on a stool. “Very pretty.”

“I feel like it’s missing something, though,” he says with a frown. “Here. You paint something.”

“On your canvas?” You look at him. “No way, love. I’ll ruin it.”

“You won’t. Now take the brush.”

“I won’t.” You step back and cross your arms. “I’m not gonna mess up this painting you’ve been working so hard on with my clumsiness.”

“What are you talking about? You always add something to my paintings.” Renjun gives you a look. The look that makes you want to roll your eyes.

“And they’re always so much better before me.”

“You don’t think that.”

“I do.”

“Why are you talking about yourself in this way all of a sudden?”

“Because it’s true!” You explode. There’s a burning in the backs of your eyes as you keep talking. “All I’ve been doing lately is messing up stuff for other people. I’m no good, Renjun.”

“…”

“My boss thinks it, my team members think it. I know you think it too!” You sob.

“Darling-”

“Stop it, Jun.”

“Darling,” he repeats, taking your hand in his. “come here.”

He pulls you in with one hand and wipes your tears with another, so careful he almost makes you think you are glass.

“What’s in that green binder in the bookshelf over there?” he asks.

“What?” You furrow your brows. “I don’t know.”

“Go check.”

You give him a look but make your way to the oak bookshelf; filled with sketchbooks, novels, and a singular green binder. You look at Renjun when your fingers touch the spine and take it out only after he nods. Your knees wobble as you flip through the pages so you let your bottom hit the floor.

In the binder are the handwritten notes from back before the two of you even started dating; flirtatious exchanges recorded on coffee shop napkins, gum wrappers, and ripped-up bits of college notes. The next stage of your relationship is at the flip of a page; rushed post-it notes of domestic living with 'I love you!'s and 'Don't forget to eat!'s kept safe in the plastic sheets.

You look up at him with surprise but he only nods his head for you to keep flipping pages. You flip through empty slips until you almost reach the back cover and find all the drawings you’ve made for Renjun over the years while in regression. Each and every one. Even the ones where you're mad at him and have him eaten by monsters.

“You kept them…” You pass a finger over a drawing you made of the two of you, your stickmen-selves holding hands and smiling in a rocket ship.

“Of course I did, baby. How could I throw away something so perfect?” You hear his voice next to you, having gotten up from his seat to crouch next to you on the floor. He gently pulls your head into his chest and his lips drop to kiss the top of your head. “I don’t think you mess up things, my love. Ever. You simply change their direction. My Lovebug is the most creative, innovative person in the whole wide world, didn’t you know?”

“Junnie…” You sob, the dam of pent-up emotions finally seeking release.

“Hi there, babybug.” He whispers. “I’m right here, lovey. Right here. Let it all out.”

lee jeno ૮ .◜◡◝ა wc 655

“Babe, the ice is melting and your coke is turning into gross, brown, sweet-tasting water,” Jeno warns.

“One second, baby. I just need to finish this assignment real quick,” you mutter with your bottom lip bit in place.

It seems you’re still in the same clothes from three days ago, the same amount of time Jeno’s seen you stay in bed studying. He’s beginning to think your butt might be attached permanently to the mattress at this point. When it comes to your bedside table, your 5-hour energy from lunchtime being the latest addition to the food trash and empty water bottle pile doesn’t fill him with any more positive thoughts.

“When’s it for?” He sighs. “Your assignment.”

“…what?” You turn your head to him but your eyes stay on the screen. “Oh, um, Friday.”

“It’s Monday. Come on.” Jeno pulls at your arm like a spoiled child. “I’m not even making you shower or anything. I just wanna hang out with my hermit, stinky, computer nerd. Will you grant me my wish please?”

You look up with a half-offended, half-amused expression and your jaw dropped.

“I’m not stinky!” You fail to shake off your arm from his hold. “I told you I’m coming! I just really need to finish this.”

“No.”

“Yes.”

“No.”

“Yes.”

“No.”

“Ye- ah!” You squeal as Jeno pulls at your arm, throwing you over his shoulder. “Jeno! I’m serious!”

“I’m serious too. Monday to Friday is five days-”

“Four days!”

“-and that’s more than enough time to finish your assignment.” He refuses to acknowledge your interruption. “You are going to eat a proper dinner with me on the couch as we watch TV and you’re gonna like it, you got that?”

“Augh…!” You groan, going limp on him.

“Oh, I know.” Jeno pouts as he sets you on the couch, covering you in your train-print fleece blanket. “I’m so mean, aren’t I? Asking you to take a break when all you wanna do is work, work, work.”

You just stare at him, squinting your eyes as you fail to hide a smile.

“Well unfortunately for you, gumdrop, babies don’t work! So I’m afraid I can’t let you do that. The police will come after me if I do. Child labor laws or something like that.”

He leaves a quick kiss on your forehead right before speeding to the kitchen. Jeno’s eyebrows wiggle in a wave when he returns with your food; apple slices, chicken nuggets, and fries all in their respective spots in your divided plate.

The original pasta and movie date night plan being scrapped for a Nono-Gumdrop night doesn’t phase Jeno. In fact, it excites him. Your projects and exams and assignments and professors... he tries so hard not to hold resentment against them all as they pull his baby away from him. But tonight? Tonight is different, and for once in his life, caregiver Jeno is triumphant.

“Thank you…” Your fingers wrap around the blue silicone and Jeno engulfs you in a bear hug when he sits down. Tight but not so tight it obstructs your arms when eating. “What are we watching, Nono?”

“Max and Ruby.” He smiles when you gasp.

“Love Max and Ruby!” You gush with a mouthful of apples.

“Do you?” Jeno drops his head to the side. “You do? You do? Nuh-uh. I do. It’s my favorite show in the whole wide world.”

“Well, ’s my favorite show in the whole galaxy!”

“Yeah? Well-”

You squeal, feeling ticklish when he nuzzles his stubble on your face.

“Nono, stop!” You giggle.

“Eat up, gumdrop.” He sighs, the feeling of his baby in his arms and eating a proper meal for the first time in days is an incomparable joy. “Two episodes and then it’s bathtime.”

“Ah, boo, Nono!” you whine but it turns back to giggles when he compresses you in his arms.

lee donghyuck ʕ˙Ⱉ˙‧:ʔ wc 994

“You there, Angel?”

You shake your head.

It feels strange, like your body isn’t yours, as you hold on tight to your dolls in your hands and see none of the lively sparkle in their eyes you usually do when you’re small.

“I’m broken, Hyuck,” you say with such a lack of emotions that you can’t tell if it’s actually you who is speaking. “I did everything right. I got dressed, I put on the music box, I’m trying to play for God’s sake. And nothing is working still. I feel ridiculous. A grown adult trying to act like a child.” You scoff.

“Hey, stop.” Donghyuck’s firm tone sends a shiver down your spine and you pull away. His shoulders drop when he notices; you’re scared and he’s only making it worse.

“That’s my baby you’re talking about, you know?” He tries again, with a softer tone this time. “Don’t talk about yourself like that. You are not broken.” He holds your cheek.

“I’m just so tired, Hyuck.” Tears come up and blur your vision. “Everything has been going on for so long at the exact same time and I just- I can’t anymore. I need to just step away from reality for a little bit but I can’t even do that. My brain is just locking me in here in this state of suffering for who knows how long and I have no way of getting out. Not even for an hour.” You sob.

“I know, lovely.” He wraps his arms around you, letting you in turn wrap your arms around his legs from your seat on the floor. “It’s been so much for so long. You deserve a little break. Take a deep breath. Let’s try to let go of all these grownup worries, okay? We can pick them back up later. Come on, Angel, breathe.”

Angel.

Channie called you Angel and you still don’t feel small. The realization makes for more tears to come up but you refuse to let another defeated cry leave you. The denim of his jeans is rough on your face but not rough enough to make you stop using it as a tissue for your tears.

“…okay,” you creak out. “Breathe in. Breathing in…”

“There we go.” Haechan passes a hand over your head, the sensation soothing you somewhat. “And out. one, two, three, four, five, six, seven. Good job, Angel. Nice long deep breaths.”

You repeat the action several times, following his counts and pushing yourself to feel his jeans under your fingertips and smell the woodsy notes of his cologne to ground yourself.

“Everything sucks,” you say after some moments of silence. “Everything sucks. I didn’t even ask for any of this. I just want to be small,” your voice breaks.

“And you will be.” Donghyuck’s touch is gentle, encouraging you without words to look up at him. The pad of his thumb is warm when it wipes the tears from your face, brushing against your damp lashes. “You will be. I promise.”

“I don’t know what to do, Hyuck. I’m all out of ideas at this point,” you admit.

“How about just trying to feel not sucky?” He scrunches his nose, the most tender of smiles painted on his face. “How about… just drawing a picture? Just one. Doesn’t have to be with crayon or marker like when you’re feeling tiny. It can be whatever you want it to be. Don’t think about being small, just about drawing.”

“…draw what?”

“Hm… what about your dolls?”

When you unwrap yourself from his legs to look at said dolls, it gives Donghyuck the chance to go grab your art supplies. Your dolls don’t have that lively aura you see them with when you’re small but you can almost feel a sort of pity and empathy from them. It reminds you of the type of support your friends give you in their messages despite the country lines separating you.

“And I’ll draw… a car. Jeno’s been getting me into Formula One.” Donghyuck pulls you out of your thoughts when his voice is so close it makes you turn to see he’s taken a seat next to you on the floor. He opens a pencil case right in front of you two and takes a black pencil for himself to begin sketching on some paper.

“Really?” You opt a red pencil.

“Yeah. It’s pretty interesting.” He shrugs.

“But ’s so boring.” You sniffle up some snot from your lightning-fast crying session. You didn’t even cry for that long, how come you can feel your eyes swelling? So annoying. “They just go around in circles.”

“It’s not just that though. There’s—pass me the red? Oh, you have it. No, it’s okay. I can wait—there’s like a ton of beef between them. I like watching the interviews and stuff. It’s like watching basketball or football.” Haechan lets out a groan as he lays on his stomach, resting a cheek on his fist. “That’s really pretty, baby.”

“Y’like it?” You move to mirror him, turning your drawing for him to see better. “Think I’m gonna add some other stuff too.”

“Like what?”

“I don’t know yet,” you admit. “Probably you. I always like drawing you. And then… your red car. You can take me and the dollies on a road trip. I like it when we have fun together.”

Affection floods out of Donghyuck, letting out an adoring ‘aw’ as he hugs you, leaving kisses on all the spots he knows won’t lead to a tickle fight.

“So cute! I always have fun with you. My Angel...” he hums into your temple.

“My Channie…” you mutter under your breath, sketching his head four times bigger than the rest.

na jaemin ଘ(੭ˊᵕˋ)੭ wc 664

“I’m okay.” You rub your nose. “Just a couple sneezes, Jaem. It’s not a big deal. I can keep studying for a little while longer.”

“You sneezed four times in a row.” Jaemin stands next to your desk chair with his arms crossed. “Do you know what that means?”

“What?” You sigh, knowing he won’t leave until you entertain him.

“You have the plague.”

“The what?”

“The plague.”

“Baby, I don’t have the-” Achoo! “the-” Achoo! “the plague…”

You move your mouse around your screen and click away at it but it doesn’t hide the reflection of Jaemin’s intense stare into your skull. He’s not amused. You spin your chair around.

“I don’t have the plague,” you repeat with a clogged nose, not even convincing yourself this time. “…I just have a little cold.”

“I wonder where you could have gotten that from, hm?” He turns you toward him by the chair’s arms and traps you by holding onto both of them and leaning in until your foreheads almost touch. “Maybe from studying a little too much? From stretching yourself too thin? Pushing yourself past your limits? Hm? Hm? hm?” He turns his head at an angle with each question, being obnoxious about his accurate statements.

“Five minutes.”

“No.”

“I just need to email this professor.”

“No.”

“I have a group project.”

“Good thing you have groupmates, huh? Come on, get off your pretty little butt.” He grabs you from under the armpits, placing your feet on the ground as if you were merely a bag of rice. “We’re playing hospital.”

“No…” you whine with dragging feet the whole time Jaemin guides you to the kitchen, his gentlemanly hand giving you no chance to run as it rests on the small of your back.

“Yes…” He pouts at you as he fills up the syringe with orange medicinal syrup. “Babies need be good and take their medicine when they are sick, okay?”

“Jaemin-” You pull your head the other way, holding his wrist away from you.

“Baby…” he sings, dodging your attempts. “Say ‘ah’, pumpkin.”

Pressing your lips tight doesn’t do anything, the plastic tip of the syringe still slipping in and filling your mouth with bitter medicine that makes a lame attempt at orange flavoring. You shake your head, still rejecting the cold syrup as it goes down, but it does regardless, chilling your throat when it does.

“Bleh!”

“Drink some water, baby.” Jaemin holds up a cup (when did he fill that up?) and you take it as if it were the key to eternal life.

“Taste so icky,” you say with your face scrunched up like a raisin. “Hate it!”

You’re sick and suffering from forced consumption of medicine. Jaemin knows this. Jaemin shouldn’t smile. But he just can’t help it! His baby is finally back after such a long, long time. he thought he was gonna die from BWS (Baby Withdrawal Symptoms).

“Aw…” His hands reach out to hold your face and squish your cheeks together. “Baby doesn’t like medicine? Babies don’t like yucky bitter things. Babies like… sweet yummy things! How about some hot chocolate, lovey-dovey?”

“Chocwate?” you ask with raised eyebrows.

“Hot chocwate.” His nose scrunches as he pinches your cheeks. “Does that sound good?”

“Yeah!” You hop free of his crab claws. “Hot chocolate! Wanna, wanna, wanna!”

“Be careful, sugarplum!” Jaemin laughs, twirling you with such ease it feels as if you were in a dance. “Why don’t you go put something on the TV while I make us the chocolate? Whatever you want, baby,” he says, but you’re already out of the kitchen and looking under blankets and cushions for the remote.

“Spongebob!” You hold it up to the ceiling like it were the sword in the stone.

“Except Spongebob. You know that shrinks your brain.”

“Aw!” You slump but quickly straighten up like a ruler. “Ah- Ah- Achoo!”

zhong chenle (ᯟ︿ᯏ) wc 622

“I’m so proud of you.” Chenle pecks your head as you hold his waist from behind. The smells coming from the stove you two stand in front of are nothing if not heavenly. “Pretty, funny, kind, graduated. How’d I bag you?”

“Mmm, I dunno.” You shrug smugly, as you look out the window. A content sigh leaves you as your eyes follow the raindrops that slide down your window. “Must’ve done something good in your past life.”

“Must have,” he hums. “Set the table for me? I’m basically almost done.”

“You got it.” You peck his cheek. “Smells delicious. Jaemin give you cooking lessons while I was gone?”

“I’ll have you know I’m a great cook. I don’t need any cooking lessons. Never have.”

“Ah…” You roll out the placemats with a sarcastic nod.

“But if I did, I would go to Donghyuck.”

“If you did, I would approve. His soups are good.”

“Mine are better.”

“…”

“Right?”

“Sure.”

The music playing from the speakers and lights in the apartment all shut off at once, not even the hum of the refrigerator sounding in the silence, the darkness. The thunder is so close it feels like footsteps. Heavy, angry footsteps coming close. Closer and closer to you.

The power comes back as soon as it left but you can’t seem to recover as fast. You don’t even remember dropping down to hold your knees, and in the dark you didn’t see how many tears came up to overflow from your eyes. Chenle calls out your name but it sounds so distant it doesn’t even register. It feels like you’re running out of oxygen like a deep sea diver falling hopelessly down to the ocean floor.

“Hey,” you take a sharp inhale at Chenle’s warm hands holding your cheeks ground you back to reality. “Hey, the power went out. Everything’s fine. You’re okay. You’re home, you’re with me. Nothing is gonna hurt you here, you hear me? You are safe.”

You almost knock Chenle over from his crouching position when you throw yourself on him, but he reads your body language just in time to catch you. His lips press into your hair, your temples, your shoulders, the softest of touches as you wail into his shirt. His heart breaks at how fragile you seem in the moment, like a porcelain doll with a chip. You sob and babble to the point that Chenle can’t understand what you’re saying. All he can catch is one word.

“Daddy…”

There’s nothing for you to do but cry, Chenle’s learned with time, so he lets you do just that. He lets you cry in his arms there on the floor and when you’re finally willing he attaches you to his hip as he walks around. He wipes your tears with a paper towel and makes sure you get a bottle of water to drink from to rehydrate.

His eyebrows furrow when you turn your head to dodge his spoon, rejecting the meal you were so looking forward to less than twenty minutes ago. This meal which was meant to be a celebration of not just the end of your education but of all your life up to this point. Of your growth, your endurance; of all the stress you put yourself through to come out victorious in the end.

You’re still victorious, he thinks. Even now as you fill up the apartment with tears, he’s so proud of you. His partner, his baby, the strongest person he’s ever met.

“Come on, dollface. Just one spoonful, yeah? Need you to eat,” he tries again.

park jisung (∩˃o˂∩) wc 668

“What’s that giant box?”

“What giant box?” He looks at you on the couch. “...I thought you were napping.”

“I woke up. What’s with that giant box you’re pushing into our house?”

“Oh, this?” Jisung looks down. “It's… a box.”

You blink, irritation in your tight-lipped smile at your boyfriend’s lack of cooperation.

“I know it’s a box, Ji. I'm asking what’s inside the box?”

“Box… stuff…”

“Jisung!”

“That’s not my name!” He whines as he shuts the front door. “My name to you is Ji! Or Baby! Not Jisung! It’s so scary when you call me that...” He sighs. “It was supposed to come before you started your vacation time, while you were at work.”

“Why?” Your eyebrows come together into a questioning frown.

“Because- just- you’ll see soon. Pass me the scissors? Thanks.” He pecks your lips, taking the scissors from your hands and pushing your back away with little force. “Now go. Get! Your surprise will be ready in a minute. Go… brush your dolls’ hair or something. It’ll be super quick.”

“Doll hairs? is it a Little gift?”

“Shoot.” Jisung bites his fist. “...can you just go in the bedroom already? It’s not a Little gift. It’s not.”

The instructions that came in the box of the not-Little gift said construction would only take thirty minutes. Not to fear, with super handyman Park Jisung to the rescue it only took three hours and two people.

“We’re done!” You clap, looking in awe at your brand new play kitchen, pink and wooden and creaky and yours. “Jiji, finish!”

“Yeah.” He sits back on the floor, wiping the sweat from his brow. “We’re finished. D’you like it?”

“It’s so pretty, jiji!” You beam, hugging his head and squeezing the brains out of him.

“I’m glad you like it, bub.” He nods at his work in approval. “You deserve it. Worked so hard recently.”

“Thankie!” You get up quickly, running barefoot into the bedroom to come back with a box of play food in all colors and sizes.

“Make you a lenonade, bubby!” You begin adding ice to a cup and add a lemon to it. “Ice cold lenonade.”

“Oh, I love your lenonade. Thanks, baby.” He takes the cup, making gulping noises and finishing it off with a loud and satisfied ‘ah!’. “Actually, are we playing restaurant right now?”

“Um… yeah!” you decide. “Welcome to my rest’rant! What would you like to order?”

“I would kill for a good burger.” Jisung pats his stomach like a starved man. “I hear you guys have some good ones, is that true?”

“The truest!” You smile. “One burger, comin’ up!”

You turn back to your kitchen and hum to yourself as you place a burger patty on the stove.

“No pans for that?”

“No pans!” You shake your head. “Special burger.”

“Ah, must be.” He mutters behind you.

When it comes to building time, Jisung acts like a to-be-blacklisted customer.

“Could I have no onions in my burger? I’m allergic.”

“No, you’re not.”

“It’s just play pretend, honey.”

“Oh. Then, yes you can, sir! No onions.”

“And no tomatoes please. I don’t like how the seeds get stuck between my teeth.”

“No tomatoes!”

“And could you cut the cheese? It kind of sends me to the bathroom.”

“Ew… okay, no cheese, either!” You toss the slice of play cheese to the side.

“…could you also remove the meat? I’m vegetarian.”

That’s the final straw. No meat? You look down at his ‘burger’: bread, lettuce, bread.

“This is what you want?” You turn to show him his order.

“Oh yes.” He smiles, clasping his hands together in anticipation. “That’s my burger! So tasty. Thank you, shop owner.”

“You’re welcome…” You give him a look. “Ketchup?”

“No thanks.”

“Mayo?”

“Bleh! Pass.”

“…barbeque sauce?”

“Oh, that’s my favorite! Lettuce and barbeque sauce burger, my favorite.” He licks his lips.

“Jiji, ew!” you whine.

tag list ( ask / comment to join ! ) @mystarsohee @cupofwyn @iwontlettheselittlethingsslip @aeriaeri

[joels-shitty-puns]

The Key To Your Heart - Track 9

Pairing: Pedro Pascal x Musician!Reader

Series Summary: After writing your feelings for Pedro into a song, it gains a lot more popularity than expected. Ultimately it brings both criticism and support, with new possibilities around the corner.

Series Warnings: 18+ only (MDNI). Panic/Anxiety attack. Alluding to sexual scenarios. Kissing. Fat shaming, name calling. Mentions of food, weight loss, weight gain, dieting, weighing, potential eating disorder, food guilt. Potential for puns/dad jokes (name of my blog, and the fic) should give that away. This is my first fic which should be its own warning, lol. Also some cursing. Mentions of masturbation (f) maybe more smut later idk. Sadness, reader is pretty depressed. Poor body image. Rude people. Bullying-ish and just lack of support? Anxiety. Age gap! Reader is in her mid 20's, Pedro is current age (48).

Other stuff: Reader is plus sized. AFAB. Inexperienced. Also has a dog, but you can pretend it is another creature probably. Further, in case it isn't clear, italics almost always are the reader's inner thoughts!

Word Count: 2.7K

Series List: Here!

Miss Chapter 8? Here!

Hi everyone!! I really don't feel great about this chapter, I'm sorry if it sucks. I kinda just want to get it out there though because I don't see my brain thinking up anything better. A lot of writer's block surrounding this scene. Anywho, hopefully next chapter will be better, but I still hope you like it. Although we allude to a little bit of sexual situations now that they are together, I likely will avoid explicit smut being that Pedro is a real human and I am a guilty, guilty human for writing any smut at all. I don't want to offend Pedro (not that he'd ever see it anyway, I am delusional), but I also know people find real person fiction uncomfy as a whole. That being said, I think this story may be coming to a close pretty soon. I plan to have maybe one more full storyline chapter, and at least one little side bonus chapter :) Please let me know what you think in the comments, or DM me if you wanna chat! I love hearing all your thoughts. Thank you for reading and hanging in here with me.

Before the screen even had a chance to load, you canceled the request. Nervously looking at Pedro, he held your hand under the table. “What is it?” he asked gently.

“I just realized,” you replied. “What if they ask about us? About those pictures? What should I say?”

Pedro answered with a gentle stroke of his thumb on your cheek. “Whatever you feel comfortable with. I'm sure I'll be fine with whatever you say, baby. I know your privacy is important to you, and I trust you. I'm all in with you.”

“Okay.” You took a deep breath and once again began the stream.

“Live in 3…”

“2…”

“1…”

The fans began to file in, and before you knew it, you had thousands of viewers. Opting to start with your screen covered, you wanted to give an intro first before the big reveal. 

It wasn't long before the comments flowed across the screen. 

You took a deep breath, squeezing Pedro’s hand, and jumping in. “Hi everyone! It's me… a lot has been happening lately and I decided it might be time to show a little more of myself.”

-“First!”

-“Did she mean to start a live video ??"

-"Hiii! I'm a big fan"

-“Is she there??”

-“Do you guys see anything?”

“So… Here's me.” You turned on your camera, waving at the screen, your stomach twisting in deeper knots.

-“No fucking way.”

-“!?!!!!!”

-“SCREAMING”

“Hi… Some of you might know me, some might be surprised. But this is me. This is the girl behind the music.”

The comments flooded in, entirely too fast for you to read.

“I want to thank all of you for being fans and listening to my songs. It really means a lot and I hope you liked the album. Your support blows me away, especially with what little information about myself I've given.”

More comments.

“Well, I uh… guess I should read some of these comments and answer some questions. I'm sure there’s a lot you all are wondering about,” you stated nervously, starting to read.

-“Why did you hide your identity?”

“Why did I hide my identity… I hid my identity mostly based on poor self image. I never expected my music to gain popularity, never expected celebrities to know it. Never expected any of it, and it certainly brought its share of criticism. I was scared to be in the spotlight and I didn't feel like I looked good enough to be someone famous. You know? I'm not skinny, I have flaws, and that doesn't always sit well with the Internet. I guess I was mainly scared of how I would be perceived. I'm just a normal girl who had her whole life flipped upside down when I wrote my feelings down,” you laughed anxiously.

Choosing to ignore the storm brewing in the comments below, you addressed the earlier comment. “Thank you for your kind words. I'm glad I can make you feel more accepted by seeing more plus-sized people in the entertainment business. Everyone should feel seen and have a place at the table, no matter what you look like, or who you are.”

-“I think it's nice to have more celebrities that look kinda like me.”

-“You're so humble!!”

-“You should've stayed hidden lmao”

-“Shut up, asshole. Why are you here if you're going to be rude?”

-“I'm sure you're a real supermodel behind that keyboard bravery.. smh”

You weren't expecting someone to actually feel like you were representing them and making them feel seen. You didn't think you had enough of an impact for that. You certainly weren't treated that way when you weren't famous. Nobody really even noticed you before.

You could feel Pedro’s eyes on your face, his thumb swirling circles and hearts over the space of skin on the top of your hand, below your thumb. The place where his bullseye resides on his own. Does he trace that tattoo when he's nervous, the same way he is with me? Perhaps his tracing of your hand is calming himself as much as it is for you.

Desperately, you wanted to look over at him and be comforted by his deep brown eyes, but doing so would cause people to wonder who you made eye contact with and smiled at. So instead, you gave a gentle squeeze and a smile towards the screen, hoping he would understand. 

-“Hi, I'm a big fan of yours. Can I ask… is what you said on your album true? You've never been kissed before? I haven't either and I was starting to feel like I'm just a freak.”

“Oh, honey, you aren't a freak. Everyone has things happen at different times in their life. But yes, everything I wrote in my album at the time I wrote it was true. And don't worry, I have felt the same way. Seeing others be kissed, falling in love… having the things I wasn't, it really hurts. But it'll be okay.. nothing is wrong with you. You're deserving of love.”

You hoped they wouldn't pick up on your usage of past-tense wording. Pedro, still holding your hand, rubbed his other hand over your arm gently.

-“Wait… at the time you wrote it? What about now?”

The comments were going wild.

Welp…

Your hands shook, and you used your opposite hand to place on top of Pedro’s that gripped yours. He squeezed gently, feeling the nervous tremors pass through your body, continuing to rub gentle strokes over your arm with his opposite hand.

“Uhm…” your cheeks heated and your stomach sank.

“I've changed a lot since this album was first written. Experienced new things. But I'm still the same person.”

Shit.

-“Who did you kiss?! Is it the guy in your song?”

-“Will you tell us who the song is about?”

-“Wait a second… you're that girl aren't you!?!!!! The one in the pictures with Pedro Pascal!!!!”

-“OMG IT IS”

-“!!!!!!!”

-“IS HE THE GUY!?!”

-“ARE YOU DATING!?!”

The nervous tremors continued, now threatening to cause your teeth to chatter. A full panic attack was brewing. Pedro squeezed your hand again, touching your knee and trying to do his best to ground you without speaking up on your live video. Skipper could feel the waves of anxiousness pooling off of you as well and crawled forward to settle his body across your feet. You took a few calming breaths, but when you went to speak, your voice still betrayed you.

“I..” your voice cracked, shakiness evident as you could feel tears starting to edge their way towards your vision.

I can't do this. I can't do this. I need to shut it off.

You shut your eyes, taking deep breaths, trying to ease your nausea and stress. 

Keeping your eyes closed, you spoke. “Yes.”

You took another deep breath. “Yes it was me, yes the song was about him. Yes.”

You opened your eyes to read the comments, tears pooling down your cheeks as you couldn't hold back your emotion anymore.

This is so embarrassing. The first time I show my face I'm crying and having an anxiety attack in front of the whole world.

You swallowed, choking back the full sobs that your body wanted to let loose. Wiping your face with the back of your hand, you began to read the comments, expecting laughter, criticism, and bullying. Instead, you were met with kindness.

Coming back to your senses, you gave a shaky smile. “Thank you guys. I'm sorry for my emotions.” You sniffled. Pedro was still rubbing your hands and arms, comforting you, having never stopped. His eyes still bore into the side of your head, and you knew he was struggling to not speak up or grab you fully. 

-“Oh my God, are you okay?”

-“I didn't mean to make you cry I'm so sorry”

-“You and Pedro make a cute couple”

-“Oh no, please don't cry”

-“Idk if you guys are dating but you seem cute”

-“I'm so glad you guys are spending time together when he's the guy in your song”

-“It'll be okay, please don't be upset”

-“You're amazing, we love you”

“Yes, Pedro and I have been spending a lot of time talking after he publicly commented on my song a few months ago. The party was the first time we met in person and we're still figuring things out,” you let go of your worries and broke eye contact with the camera, looking to your side to meet Pedro’s gaze. “But… we're happy.” You smiled at him. He smiled back gently, squeezing your hand, worry and sadness plaguing his face over your well-being. Breaking eye contact, you looked back at the screen.

You giggled before answering “well, I think that's all we have time for today. Thank you all for joining me!” You silently clicked off the stream, closing the browser, turning off the computer, and turning to Pedro. He grabbed your other hand in his, now holding both. “Are you okay?” He asked, concern etched in his face.

-“AAAAAAAAAAHHHH!!!!”

-“IS HE THERE WITH YOU!?!”

-“whaaaaat”

-“SCREAMING”

-“Shut. Up. This is insane.”

-“YOU GUYS ARE SO CUTE I CAN'T TAKE IT”

“I think so,” you nodded.

“Seeing you panic and not being able to do anything without potentially making it worse… It killed me. I'm so sorry. I just wanted to pull you into my arms and end that video myself. I hated seeing you so upset.” He stared down at your intertwined hands, rubbing his thumb over them again. 

“I appreciate you being here for me,” you let go of his hand to stroke his cheek. “I couldn't have done that without you.” You met his eyes, leaning forward to rest against his forehead. He let out a shaky breath. “I love you. I'm so proud of you.”

“I love you too,” you replied with a smile. “Let's move to the couch, huh?” You asked, pulling him up from the chair. He stood, just as your phone rang, a call from Rose. You quickly answered.

“I saw the live stream. You did wonderful! Don't worry about any of the negative comments you saw or any stories that come out of this. I'll handle it all.”

“Thanks, Rose.”

“Anytime. Take care.” She hung up.

You updated Pedro as the two of you walked towards the couch. “Do you want breakfast?” He asked.

“Maybe in a minute. Can I just hold onto you for a few minutes?”

“I would love nothing more.”

He sat on the couch, you sitting next to him, before he gave you a look. “What?” you laughed. He patted his leg.

“Let me hold you.”

“I'm too heavy for that Pedro, don't be ridiculous,” you shook your head.

“You're the one being ridiculous.” He reached over, pulling you into his lap. “I'm too heavy! You're going to hurt yourself,” you whined.

“You're not too heavy. You're the perfect size, baby. Come here,” he pulled you forward, your body sliding down his thighs as he wrapped his arms around you. You straddled his lap, knees on either side of his hips while he rubbed your back gently. You placed your arms around him, nuzzling into his neck and closing your eyes. You both sighed, and he grabbed a blanket next to him to pull over your bodies. “I could stay like this for hours, wrapped in your arms” you sighed comfortably. 

“Why don't you?” He turned his head to kiss your lips. You lifted your face up, taking your head off his shoulder to kiss him deeper. The kisses were lazy and comfortable, holding each other and enjoying the warmth of being in each other's arms.

Finally the two of you broke the kiss, settling back on his shoulder, him tilting his head to lean against yours. His hands sprawled over your back, pulling you forward a bit to adjust in his lap. You let out a soft whimper at the contact, fully aware of the location your bodies connected at the moment. “Feel how much you mean to me?” He asked, his breath ghosting your ear as he pulled your hips forward again. You whined. “Yes..” you answered breathlessly. The temptation to keep doing that was overwhelming. But he once again wrapped his arms around you, rubbing your back as the two of you comfortably dozed off, finally relaxed after so much stress of the morning.

Hours later, you stirred, feeling Pedro still underneath you. At the feel of you moving, he stretched a bit before settling with his arms around you again. “Morning, baby” he hummed. “Guess we fell asleep,” you smiled.

“Some of the best sleep I've had in a while, here with you.”

“Same here.” You blinked your eyes open, kissing him on the lips with a peck. “What time is it?”

He turned his head to look at the clock on your TV. “5 o’clock” he laughed. “Guess we both needed some rest.” 

“Mmmm, I guess so,” you hummed, settling into him more.

“Good thing I brought nonperishables. Are you hungry?”

You pondered. “Yeah, I am,” you looked into his deep brown eyes. “Breakfast for dinner?” You smiled at him.

“Sounds perfect.” He pecked your lips before you slid off his lap, the two of you standing to stretch. It wasn't long that you two stood apart before you leapt forward again to give him a hug. He laughed, hugging you back. “I'll never get tired of being in your arms,” you smiled into his chest, breathing in his scent.

“I'll never get tired of holding you in mine,” he pulled his face back to look at you.

“Now let's eat! I'm starved,” you scampered towards the kitchen, him giving a gentle pat to your butt before hugging you from behind as you grabbed the breakfast foods. You giggled, setting food on plates as he kissed your neck, still wrapped around you from behind. “I'm starving too,” he replied back to your earlier statement with a growl, biting your ear.

“Pedro!” You giggled, smacking his arm gently. He chuckled, pulling away and grabbing his plate as you both headed to the table.

The two of you ate, filling the space with light conversation, both of you occasionally sneaking Skipper some bites under the table. He could get used to having two humans spoiling him.

The chatter came to a natural pause, eating in silence and smiling at each other across the table. Pedro stopped eating, wiping his hands and continuing to stare at you. You laughed, asking him what was up. Suddenly, he looked nervous.

“I, uh…” he rubbed his neck. “I was going to wait until after we had at least a first date to say this, but…” he trailed off, and your mind spiraled. Is he breaking up with me? Is he not interested anymore? What's wrong?

“I was wondering if… you'd be my girlfriend? Exclusively?” His cheeks flushed.

You stammered, dropping your fork on the plate. “You… you want… me to be your girlfriend?” You smiled.

He nodded. “If… you'll have me.”

“You want to be my boyfriend?” He nodded again, looking down at the table.

“Yes. Yes, are you kidding? Please! I'd love nothing more.” You grinned, jumping out of your chair to move to him.

He stood, pulling you into a hug. “Really?” He smiled at you.

“Really,” you nodded. “Now kiss me,” you held his face.

“Gladly,” he pulled you closer, kissing you deeply, his tongue asking for entrance to your mouth. You squealed, surprised, but letting him in. You'd never experienced this sensation before. But it was… incredible.

He licked your lips, the two of you exploring the inside of each other's mouths, tongues dancing together. The kiss was heated and deeper than ever before, both of you finally pulling away for air, him coming back in to peck your lips a few times, sucking your lip between his own. You sighed shakily. “Wow.”

“I love kissing you,” he smiled against your lips.

“I love kissing you. You're a good kisser,” you smiled back.

“So are you,” he smirked. “My beautiful girlfriend.” He gave a kiss. “How about that date tomorrow?” He pulled away to look at you, letting his hand rub across your lower back, just above your butt.

“I'd love to,” you stroked his face. “My handsome boyfriend.” You wrapped your arms around him again, blissfully.

“Tomorrow,” you two sighed in unison.

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[forest-hashira]

New Lengths

I CONTINUE TO PROVIDE ALL THE TRANSFEM GOJO CONTENT I WANT AND CAN'T FIND ELSEWHERE!!! this time back with the reader inserts! (there's a stsg transfem gojo piece on my ao3 account if anyone wants to read that too!) anyways sorry it's been so long since i updated this series, i got stuck for a while. once again huge thank you to cal (i forgot your url i'm so sorry update he's @dr-runs-with-scissors) bc he loves transfem gojo probably as much as i do and constantly encourages me to come back to her. love u friend 💜

series masterlist here | read on ao3 here | wc: ~2.3k | cw: transfem gojo (duh), gender neutral reader, fluff as usual, you trim her undercut, that's basically it lol

The progression of Satoru making changes to her appearance was gradual, and you’d been with her every step of the way, encouraging her to take things at a pace that felt natural to her. 

Of course, you’d also been happy to indulge her at every turn, painting her nails every time she decided she wanted to try a different color – she’d amassed quite the collection of blues and glittery top coats since that first trip to the drugstore –  as well as helping her find different makeup products to try out, though most of that browsing was done online. 

A few weeks after she started wearing lip gloss out of the house, she’d gained the confidence to let you put a little bit of product on her brows and lashes. It wasn’t anything super noticeable, just a bit of clear gel, but she’d been ecstatic the whole day afterwards, her eyes sparkling behind her sunglasses. 

A few days after she started wearing the gloss and lash gel out of the house, you noticed her hair had gotten a bit longer, and it no longer stood up as straight when she wore the blindfold. You couldn’t remember the last time you’d seen any noticeable difference in the length of her hair, so you decided to bring it up.

“You haven’t been wearing your blindfold as much lately,” you murmured from your spot on the bed, gently rubbing some leave-in conditioner into her hair – not really anything fancy, just something to help keep it soft and fluffy – and giving her a gentle scalp massage in the process.

“Haven’t felt like it,” Satoru answered casually, leaning a bit further into your legs from her spot on the floor in front of you as you continued to work the product into the damp strands. “Feels better to wear the glasses when I wear product in my lashes, too. Doesn’t make everything feel crushed, I guess.”

You hummed, giving a small nod. The movements of your fingers slowed a bit, though you still continued to lightly scratch at her scalp the way you knew she liked. “Is your hair bothering you at all, either?” It was impossible to miss the way her shoulders tensed slightly at your question. “I noticed that it’s starting to fall in your face more than it used to, even with the blindfold on.”

She was silent for a few long moments, then nodded slightly. “Yeah, it does,” she agreed quietly, and when you looked further down, you could see she was rubbing her thumbs along the sides of her fingers, an anxious tic you’d noticed she had even before you’d started dating, but it seemed to have gotten worse since she’d started to transition in private.

The silence that settled over you then was tense, but not necessarily uncomfortable. When it became apparent to you that she wasn’t going to be the one to break the silence, though, you took a deep breath. “Do you want to grow it out, princess? Because you don’t have to, if you like your hair the length it is now. Plenty of women don’t grow their hair out long.” 

A shuddering sigh escaped her lips then, as if the words had given her permission to talk about changing this part of her appearance, permission to admit she was ready for another step forward. “I-I, uh…” Her voice faltered for a moment, but as always, you patiently waited until she was ready to speak again. “I think I do want to grow it out, yeah. B-but not the undercut, I wanna keep that short.”

“Yeah?” you murmured, smiling down at her as you trailed a hand lower, down the back of her head until you reached her undercut, gently scratching your nails across the area. “Hm, it could probably use a trim. But we can make sure to keep the rest long.” 

She relaxed into you a bit more again, and your expression softened.

“I know it’s a little late now, but do you want to contact your hairdresser about getting in to trim your undercut?”

Satoru grimaced slightly at your words, and she shook her head slightly. “You mean my barber? No, I don’t. Now that I’m transitioning… I don’t think I want to keep seeing him. Feels wrong.” She shifted a little, resting her cheek against your thigh. You could tell there was more behind her explanation of “feeling wrong” continuing to see her barber, but you weren’t going to push her to say any of it out loud; you had a pretty good idea of what she meant, anyways.

“That’s fine,” you assured her. “I can help you find another stylist, we can get you in to see someone then.”

“Well, actually…” she trailed off for a moment again, hesitating. “I was thinking… maybe you could trim it this time?” She tilted her head back to meet your gaze, her own blue eyes unsure. 

Your eyes widened in surprise at her words, and you blinked dumbly for a moment.

Taking your silence as hesitance, Satoru rushed to speak again. “Just this time! Just until I can find a new stylist. It’s getting long, and I really want it trimmed as soon as possible, and I’m still nervous—”

She was absolutely rambling, trying to fix the situation, when you cut her off. “I’ll trim it, princess. I don’t mind. I was just surprised, is all.” Wanting to make sure she understood that you were serious, you resumed scratching lightly at her scalp, smiling sweetly down at her.

Satoru practically melted at the touch, dropping like a puppet with the strings cut as the tension quickly left her body. She let out another shaky sigh, though now she was smiling slightly to herself, turning her head a bit further into your touch. “Thank you,” she murmured, pressing a sheepish little kiss to your knee.

The sensation tickled a bit, and you giggled softly, pulling your knee away from the touch out of reflex. “Of course, ‘Toru. Do you want to trim it now, or do you want to wait until tomorrow?” You really weren’t sure which way she would decide: she’d said she wanted a trim as much as possible, but she’d already showered and washed her hair that night, and you were certain she’d want to rinse any stray hairs off her skin once you were finished. 

“Are you okay with doing it tonight?” Her eyes were on yours again, her expression much more relaxed than before, and she blinked curiously up at you.

Once again, you were a bit surprised by her words, not having expected her to answer you so quickly, but you nodded easily. “Yeah, I’m fine with that.”

Her face lit up at your words, and she was quick to scramble to her feet. “Great!” she practically cheered, taking your hands and tugging you up from the edge of the bed.

Following her was easy, especially when she was so excited, and you couldn’t help but laugh softly at her eagerness; a sound born out of pure affection. You allowed her to pull you into the bathroom, standing and waiting patiently as she released you to pull a case from the cabinet. For a moment you were confused, until she opened it to reveal an electric beard trimmer and the guards to go with it.

“That’s what that thing is?” you asked, laughing again. “Why do you own those? I didn’t think you’d ever even grown facial hair.”

“I haven’t,” she confirmed with a smile. “Shoko got these for me as a joke a couple years ago. Not sure why I kept them all this time, honestly, but it looks like they’re coming in handy now, yeah?”

“They certainly are,” you agreed.

After looking over the set of guards, Satoru eventually picked the 1/8th of an inch length, and helped you get the guard attached to the trimmer.

Holding the trimmer in your hand, you looked her up and down, a slight frown on your face. “You’re too tall,” you said after a moment. “You’re gonna have to sit down so I can do this without accidentally making you bald.”

That got a laugh out of her. “I think I would prefer to keep at least some of my hair for now,” she teased lightly, but sat down on the closed toilet lid. “Better?”

“Yes,” you confirmed, relieved that it did, in fact, change the height difference enough for you to have a good angle. “Can you pull the rest of your hair out of the way? I need to get a towel to wrap around your shoulders.”

Satoru nodded, digging around in one of the drawers for a hair tie as you turned to the linen closet and grabbed a towel. By the time you turned back to face her, Satoru had managed to tie the rest of her hair up in a small ponytail on the very top of her head, and the way it stuck up made you giggle as you wrapped the towel around her shoulders.

“What?” she demanded, feigning indignance. “I look beautiful right now, I’ll have you know.”

“Beautiful like a flower getting ready to bloom,” you teased, pressing a quick kiss to her lips before moving around to stand behind her again. Picking up the clippers from where you’d set them on the counter, your whole demeanor grew serious again. “I need you to really try to stay still, okay ‘Toru?”

“I’ll try my best,” she promised, shooting you a reassuring smile over her shoulder. “I trust you.”

You did your best to smile back at her, then gently turned her head so she was facing away from you once again. Swallowing thickly, you switched the clippers on, your grip tightening slightly as they began to buzz in your hand. 

Not for the first time, you were glad that working as a sorcerer for so many years had given you reasonably steady hands, but right now you were especially thankful, because it meant there was a much lower chance that you would make some sort of mistake while trimming your girlfriend’s hair. You took your time, running the clippers in slow, straight passes up her scalp, watching as the little tufts of lavender-white hair drifted down and landed on the towel you’d draped around the sorceress’s shoulders before you started. 

A short while later, you were finished, and you shut off the clippers and set them aside. When Satoru began to move to get up, you were quick to stop her. “Hang on,” you told her, “let me wipe the hair off your neck.”

She settled again obediently, and you wet a washcloth, wringing out the excess water before turning back to her, gently running the damp fabric over her skin, murmuring a little apology when she jumped at the first touch.

When you were finished with that, you stood back, admiring your work. “Alright,” you said, smiling slightly to yourself. “All done.” You tossed the damp cloth into the sink to deal with later, and before she could do it herself, you pulled the towel from Satoru’s shoulders, careful to keep any of the trimmings from falling onto her or the floor.

“What do you think?” you asked, the two of you shuffling around each other a bit as she stood and moved to look in the mirror, and you stepped to the shower and shook the hair off the towel.

Satoru twisted and turned a bit, trying to get a good look in the mirror, eventually giving up and just running her fingers over it to test the length. “Hmm, yeah, much better,” she hummed, smiling at you in the mirror. “Thanks, baby.”

“You’re welcome, princess,” you told her easily, hanging up the towel. “Now, come on. It’s getting late and I want my princess cuddles.”

With a smile so bright it was nearly blinding, Satoru took your hand and led you back to the bedroom; even if she wasn’t feeling as tired as you were, she was always more than willing to indulge you in cuddles, because really, she adored them, too.

The two of you crawled into bed together, shuffling under the blankets and giggling quietly at each other as you pulled the blankets up over your shoulders. As you settled down, you realized your girlfriend’s hair was still pulled up in that goofy little ponytail, and you gently pulled the hair tie free, sliding it over your wrist in the process.

Her hair fell down around her head then, and as you tenderly brushed the strands from her eyes and tucked them behind her ear, you realized it really had gotten some length on it; the ends of her hair now rested only an inch or so above the bottom of her undercut, and you couldn’t help but twirl some of the strands between your fingers.

“Gonna have my own personal Rapunzel soon…” you yawned, offering her a sleepy smile.

Even in the dark of the bedroom, you could tell the words had her blushing fiercely. “I sure hope not,” she mumbled. “I don’t wanna be locked in a tower by an evil witch.”

A small hum of amusement escaped you, and you nuzzled a little closer to her, pressing a sleep-clumsy kiss to the corner of her lips. “Don’t worry,” you promised quietly. “I’d be your knight in shining armor and rescue from the tower, even if I had to climb up to you ‘cause you didn’t wanna get your hair dirty.”

Her bashful laugh was the last thing you heard as you drifted off, a gentle smile still curving your lips, one hand still fiddling with her hair.

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[knockyasocksoff2022]

Motion Sick

Sicktember 2024 - Prompt #6 Dizziness/Vertigo

Words: 4,440

Pairing: Tanizaki Junichoru x Tachihara Michizou

POV: First person

CW: Mentions of nausea and throwing up, but no graphic descriptions

Junichirou’s Perspective

I can feel my stomach churning, and that familiar acidity rising in my throat. I’m going to be sick. 

I knew I shouldn’t have come along, the agency didn’t even need me for this trip. It was Kenji who insisted that I come along so I wouldn’t miss the dolphins in the bay. He doesn’t know about my terrible motion sickness and being as spineless as I am, I couldn’t say no to him.

Now I wish I had.

It’s late afternoon but the summer sun is still high in the sky, the weather hot and sticky. My back aches and I feel lightheaded from being bent over the railing for so long.

Then I get an idea. It’s probably stupid, but no one is paying attention to me so I should be safe. I plug in my earbuds and press the dial button for the first contact in my phone. At first, the ringing is uncomfortably loud then the call is answered and his voice fills my ear.

“Jun? You good? You only call if there’s an emergency.”

I don’t answer right away, letting Michizou’s warm voice wash over me. I swallow thickly.

“Junichirou?”

“Sorry,” I whisper

“What for? You’re not hurt, are you? Why are you whispering?” Panic enters his voice. I shake my head before remembering he can’t see me.

“N-no. I’m-“ My voice fades out as my stomach roils, threatening to send its contents back up. I think I’d die if I puked while talking to Michi on the phone, that’d be way too embarrassing. I shouldn’t have called. “It’s stupid. You can hang up if you’re busy.” 

“I’m not. I’m at lunch with Gin and Higuchi. I'm glad you called too, cuz they were being all disgustingly lovey-dovey. And I’m sure whatever you called me for ain’t stupid. What is it?” Despite the loud conversations around him, his voice is comforting.

“I . . . well, I’m getting motion sick and I think I’m gonna puke. I . . . uh . . . just thought that hearing your voice might distract me a bit.” It sounds dumb as I say it.

He doesn’t answer, the line crackles in silence.

“See, I told you it was stupid.”

“No, it’s not. Where are you? In a car?” His voice is calm now, with a serious tone and I can imagine his expression, cool as he thinks through the situation. The background is quieter now like he’s stepped even farther away from wherever he was.

“On a boat, we’re looking for evidence in a murder case that was dumped in the bay. The waves are bad today though, so . . .”

“So that’s why we’re whispering.” I can see him nodding to himself. I smile at the thought, “Where are your meds?”

“I left them at home,” I admit.

“Of course you did. I’d bring you some, but . . .” He laughs, the affectionate teasing sending warmth through me. “So what should I do?” The teasing turns to sympathy.

“Can we just talk? About anything.” The desperation leaks through as another wave rocks the boat.

“Sure. . . .” He hums trying to think of a topic, I find myself tapping out the rhythm on the railing focusing on it instead of the rocking of the boat. He ends the melody with a flourish, “Today I ran into Elise, you know, the Boss’s kid or whatever.”

I turn on the camera and nod, still not trusting myself to speak. Michi seems to get it.

“Yeah, well she somehow bribed him to wear not only a maid outfit but a nurse outfit and one of those supposedly “sexy” devil costumes. She showed us all the pics. It was a riot but I felt kinda weird looking at them, you know. Like it was an invasion of privacy, and also if the Boss knows I saw them he might give me desk duty indefinitely.”

I laugh, so hard that my stomach pain increases fivefold but it feels good.

“That’s the only really funny story I have for today, some other stuff happened too, we had an assassination job, but if you think you’re gonna puke maybe I’d best not tell you those. . . . Anyways, want me to make dinner tonight. I might need your help, but I can do most of it. I know being sick always makes you tired.”

I think I can speak again, I take a breath, sighing when I find my stomach has settled down considerably. “Yeah, I would like that, make it something light though, a soup or something.”

“Cool. And, uh, don’t feel bad about calling, I’m happy to help. And seeing Gin with Higuchi was making me miss you a lot, I miss you right now.” He sounds awkward, still new to expressing emotions so blatantly. My stomach clenches, not out of nausea, but wanting. Seeing him over the phone isn’t enough, I want his arms around me, his lips brushing my cheek.

“I miss you too, but I guess I should let you go before Gin and Higuchi get suspicious.” I’ll admit even I can tell I sound pouty, but I know the longer I stay on the call the more likely it is for one of the other agency members to catch me.

“Yeah, you’re probably right. But promise you’ll call me back if you start feeling bad again.” I can hear the worry in Michizou’s voice even as he tries to hide it. It makes my heart flutter in my chest.

“Okay,” I say the word but don’t hang up, neither does he. We exist for a moment in comfortable silence.

“They’re so wrapped up in each other I think we have at least another hour before they realise.” He rolls his eyes.

I smile.

He starts telling me about how Akutagawa was being creepy while referring to some short story about some gate, and I bask in the warm glow of his voice and enthusiastic facial expressions as he talks. Soon I’m laughing so hard I drop my phone, my earbuds yanked out of my ears. I can faintly hear Michizou complaining about how I “dropped” him.

I bend down to pick up the device but someone is already handing it to me. Kenji. 

My breath catches and I feel nauseous again. Maybe he’ll be really nice and won’t tell.

He stares at the phone screen, and Michizou stares back, as if maybe if he’s still enough Kenji will think he’s just a photo. Or maybe he’s in shock. After a second he clicks off the camera and hangs up belatedly.

“Why were you talking to the Bandaid guy? Is he your friend?” Kenji asks it with no malice whatsoever, but if he knows he might tell the others, not realising the ramifications.

I think about asking who he’s referring to, and playing dumb but it’s too late for that.

“Oh, um, we were just . . . He’s my friend, but you can’t tell anyone okay.”

“Okay! Is he nice like Cool Hat-san?”

I snort at his nickname for Executive Nakahara. “Well, he’s nice to me, but he can be a little mean sometimes, you know.”

“Oh, he’s just like Cool hat-san then!”

“What do you mean?”

“Cool hat-san always seems so angry but one day I saw him and Dazai-san snuggling with each other through the window of Dazai-san’s dorm. And he must be a really good hugger because Dazai-san kept telling him not to stop. I was only walking by so I don’t know the rest, but they seem also to be good friends.”

I’m so shocked that I can’t answer for a whole minute. I’m not sure what the hell is going on between those two but I know they weren’t snuggling. Before I can form an acceptable reply, Kenji asks: “Is Bandaid guy a good snuggler?”

If I was drinking or eating anything I would have spit it out. I can feel my entire face heating up. I’m not sure whether I’m saved or doomed even further because Atsushi is walking over to me.

“Junichirou! What’s wrong? You’re all red!”

“Ohhh, I . . . uhh, I’m just seasick is all, I hate boats!” I groan again, patting my stomach to add extra effect.

Atushi nods, “Oh, I didn’t know. Are you alright? Should I bring Naomi?” He sounds unsure and cringes as he says my sister’s name.

“No!” It comes out too quickly, I force myself to sound calmer, “Don’t bring Naomi, I can handle a little sickness myself. I’ll be fine with a few deep breaths.”

“Are you sure?”

I nod.

Atsushi walks back towards the boat’s cabin.

“Maybe you should call Bandaid guy again, tell him to bring you some medication when we return to the dock,” Kenji says, too loudly, because Atsushi turns back around.

I expect him to make a scene but he just walks over calmly.

“Who’s ‘Bandaid guy?’”

“A friend.” I can hear the shaking in my voice. Atsushi hates the mafia, he’ll never trust me again if he were to find out.

He squints as if thinking then his eyes widen, he stares straight at me. He knows.

What should I do? What should I do? What should I do? What should I do?

“I see. Hope you feel better.” is all he says before walking off again.

WHAT? WHY? Isn’t he going to tell? How is he just okay with that?

-

Everyone else is so busy with the evidence being pulled up from the seafloor that I’m alone again.

The anxiety has turned back into motion sickness, even worse than last time, so despite already being caught once, I do the only thing I can think of, I call Michizou back.

He answers on the first ring.

“Worse?” he asks

“Yeah.” is all I can manage.

“How bad?”

“Bad.” I cringe at the croaky sound of my voice.

“Okay. What can I do?”

“Just talk?”

“Sure. I already told you most of the funny things. Does it matter the topic?”

“Nothing gory.”

“Hmm.” I hear him shuffling around, “How about this? It’s a collection of poems, I got it from my brother . . . it’s what they sent back when he, well, you know.”

He takes my silence and heavy breaths for a yes and starts to recite the poetry. I close my eyes and lay down on the boat deck soaking in his gentle words.

Kenji’s Perspective

After a long day, the boat is finally back in the dock and we’re all gathered at the rail where the ramp will drop for us to get back on the ground, all but one.

“What the hell is he doing?” Yosano-san asks, pointing to Junicihrou-san lying on the boat’s deck with his earbuds in. He looks serene.

“I dunno,” says Atsushi-san.

“I think he’s talking to a Band-Aid guy, or maybe he’s listening to music.”

Oops. What do I do now? I’ll have to apologise to Tanizaki-san for revealing the secret.

“Baindaid guy? Is he a doctor?” Yosano-san asks

“I wasn’t supposed to tell you that, but no, I don’t think he’s a doctor. I saw him on Facetime, he looked way too young.” I shrug. 

I did recognise him, from the raids on the office, but I don’t know his name. I hope she doesn’t ask if I know him. I’m a terrible liar. Thankfully Atsushi steps up.

Atsushi’s Perspective:

I tap Kenji on the shoulder and he steps back.

If you’d asked me to lie even a few months ago, I’d have totally flaked, but these past few months of excusing for gaps in time have improved my skills greatly. I’m not sure if that’s a good thing.

“Maybe he’s a friend from school? The siblings go to the local High School, right? Surely the two of them must have some friends besides us to see when they’re not working? If not that’s sad.”

Yosano-san nods, a thoughtful expression on her face. “Maybe? But they’re pretty weird so I’m not sure. They've never mentioned anyone. If it is a friend, though, I’m glad. Maybe Noami will find a nice boy to get attached to instead of her brother.” She sounds doubtful. I don’t blame her.

“Eh, well just go and get him. I’m sure he’ll tell you if you ask.” Kunikida-san says

I can’t help frowning at this. “Yeah, he probably will.” It comes out louder and more bitter than I intended.

“What’s that face for?” he asks.

“He’s scared of Yosano-san, and you know it. It’d be unfair to use that against him. He probably doesn't want to tell us, so don’t make him, okay.” I’ve never snapped at him before, and I’m not sure if this qualifies, but I don’t want Junichirou to say anything he isn’t ready to yet. 

Ryu told me about them as soon as they got together. And . . . I know that Motojirou-san has a massive crush on Yosano-sensei

She frowns back at me. “Okay? Jeez. What’s got you so intense about this so suddenly?”

“I- I, he just looks really relaxed. If he’s not in pain from the seasickness anymore, does it matter?”

“I suppose not.” She concedes, still looking very suspiciously at me. After a tense moment of staring, we both nod. The boat is almost to the dock, and Junichirou is still lying on the deck.

Kunikida-san is walking over to him, probably worried about his schedule, we were out here longer than planned. The last thing he wants is for disembarkment to be delayed. Poor Junichirou. 

Kunikida’s Perspective:

I have patience for Junichirou’s affliction, of course I do, but if he doesn’t get up soon, we’ll have to carry both him and the evidence off the boat. I’m sure Kenji wouldn’t mind, but, still . . .

As I look down at him, it’s impossible to miss that he looks more serene than I’ve ever seen him, and on a boat of all places. His breathing is steady and even. He’s hovering on the edge of sleep. I wonder what he’s listening to. White noise maybe? Surely not waves?

I almost don’t want to wake him. Alas, it’s necessary.

“Tanizaki-kun, please get up. We’re at the dock now. You won't feel ill anymore.”

He doesn’t stir. After a moment I give him the lightest of taps with my toe. 

“Mmm, Michi? No. Let me sleep a bit more, okay? I’ll have soup later.”

“Michi? Who’s Michi? It’s me, Kunikida-san. Your superior at the agency.”

He jolts up, eyes wide. Is this “Michi” his girlfriend? If so, I can see how that would be embarrassing.

“Wha– I-I’m so sorry. I thought, uh, I thought that you were, uh, my . . . brother. Yeah, my bro Michi, uh, you know.”

Brother? But, he has no other family members besides Naomi, as far as I’m aware.

I look him dead in the eye, daring him to continue. He powers down his phone, probably ending whatever audio he was listening to.

“Tanizaki-kun, you don’t have a brother.”

He blinks slowly, processing. “M-maybe I do . . .”

“Tanizaki-kun. I don’t really care who you were talking to, but you do need to get up. Come on.”

He looks distinctly relieved as I help him to his feet. He sways a little but seems alright overall.

-

When we return to the office, the President relives Junichirou of his duties for the day.

“Go home, Tanizaki-kun. Rest up.”

“T-thank you, sir.” Junichirou bows deeply, still looking a little shaken.

Poor boy. Today wasn’t easy on him. Kenji apologises for suggesting he come along as he goes, but Junichirou shakes his head, saying it’s fine, telling him not to feel guilty.

Junichirou’s Perspective:

It’s nice that Noami agreed to stay at the office to help out with paperwork in my place. Even a few months ago she would have never.

After lying down for so long, it feels odd standing up. My head spins and my legs feel heavy. I still feel hot with the embarrassment from earlier with Kunikida-san. 

When I’m far enough away from the office, I pull out my phone and dial Michizou again.

The car park feels way too large, and heat radiates off the concretised ground. Since when did the earth rotate so fast? Maybe it’s just me?

“Hey, Jun, you hung up on me earlier, what happened? Are you back now?”

“ . . . Yeah, and I th-think I’m gonna pass out. P-please come pick me up.”

“Shit! Yeah, where are you?”

“Uhh, everything a bit fuzzy honestly.”

“Jun? Shit, uh, stay awake okay, er, sit down if you can, yeah?”

“Yeah.” I do, leaning against some stranger’s car. It does help. “I’m sitting, I’ll share my location.”

“Okay, I’m coming.”

-

I open my eyes to the screeching of tyres. It’s close, but I can’t bring myself to move, too afraid I’d only fall. Which I guess doesn’t make much sense since I’m already sitting.

“Jun! Hey, Jun, you good?”

Michizou stands over me. He crouches down, tucking my hair back.

“Hey, come on, let’s get up.”

He starts to lift me but his body is too warm against mine, I shove him off.

“Too hot.”

“Sorry. I’ve got water.” He holds out a thermos, I take it eagerly, almost dropping it, but it doesn’t fall, only floats. It’s cool. I watch it in awe for a minute.

“Jun? Are you alright? You need to drink.”

“Huh? Oh, yeah, I’m just a bit out of it.” I must be more ill than I thought, It’s obviously just Michi’s ability that’s making the thermos float.

“Okay, tell me if you feel sick again.”

“Yeah.” Carefully, I take a sip. The cool water does wonder, the fog clearing so quickly it makes me a little dizzy again.

“Better?”

“Much.”

“Good, I have meds at home, and soup too, you’ll need to eat.” He says as he opens the door for me.

I don’t realise that he’s given himself the driver’s side until I’m already under the safety belt, hand movements on autopilot.

“Wait, Michi, you know I have to drive. If I don’t I’ll get sick again.” I start to unbuckle the belt, but it’s a bit harder than usual, with so many straps. Michizou puts a hand over mine to stop me.

“Juni.” It’s a sweet nickname, one he almost never uses. I can count the number of times on one hand, and this is only the second. It makes me feel ready to melt. “You’re all dizzy and shit. Let me drive, yeah? We’ll be home soon.”

“But . . . I’ll get sick again.” It’s babyish of me, I know and I hate how whiny I sound but, “Michi, I really don’t want to be sick again.”

He leans over the console, hugging me from the side. He smells nice, and the motion is gentler than usual. He rubs my shoulder and runs his fingers through my hair. The small action does wonders for the blooming headache, “I know. But you’re not good right now. Just this once? You’re always fixin’ me up when I’m down, so let me help you today.”

His hands feel so good that my eyes start to close. He’s right, there’s no way in any universe I could operate a vehicle like this. And he’s a better driver than me on my best day, more experienced.

“Yeah, I’m dumb.”

“No, you’re not,” he assures. “Just close your eyes. I’ll wake you at home.”

-

When Michizou’s voice draws me from sleep I open my eyes to the sight of the out kitchen counter overhead light. It’s off, sparing me from a worse headache. Am I . . . on the counter? He must’ve carried me in and put me here. I blush a little. There’s something cool on my forehead, a flannel, I think. Do I have a fever? I thought I was just seasick, but maybe . . .

“You’re really warm, not a fever, but I think you got heat stress,” Michizou informs me, his voice drifting in from the bedroom.

“Oh,” Is all I can say. I notice that he’s stripped me down to my pants and tank top. I do feel better. “Why am I on the counter, though?”

He blushes this time, “I dunno, I figured the sofa would be too hot since you’re kinda sweaty.”

“Makes sense.” Our sofa is very warm, and covered with blankets that Gin and Ichiyou-kun gave us.

The room only blurs a little when I sit up. I wring the now slightly warm cloth out in the sink.

“Google said a cool bath would help bring down your temp and with the headache. How sick do you feel? Do you wanna eat first? Or can the meds wait.”

I consider myself for a moment. I’m still a little queasy. I was asleep so I didn’t get sick in the car, but the ride didn’t exactly help. The medication would bring relief, but I’m still worried whatever I eat might come right back up. I hate throwing up. You’d think it’d be easy after all this time, but it hurts. Maybe if I wait it out, the queasy feeling will go away. “Bath first, I think.”

“Kay, I’ll run the water.”

-

The bath fills quickly, and because I don’t have to wait for the water to cool, I can get in right away. It feels like heaven after all day on the hot boat deck. I just soak for a minute, listening to Michizou finish dinner in the kitchen. He’s not amazing at cooking, but he can make about five dishes really well, and soup happens to be one of them.

Michi was right, I am sweaty. I should probably shower.

Lazily, I drain the tub and turn on the shower nozzle. Standing up reminds my stomach of the boat, but the cold water helps.

-

“Soup’s done. There’s cucumber salad too, and watermelon cuz Gin went to the farmer’s market. I gotta cut it though.” 

“Mmm, sounds good. I’m almost done.” I hope my stomach can take it.

“You decided to shower?”

“Yeah.”

“Feeling better?”

“A lot.”

I hear him start to return to the kitchen.

“Wait.”

“Yeah? Do you need help?”

“Could you wash my hair?” I’m grateful he can’t see me, it makes the request easier. I’m so used to having affection sort of forced on me by Naomi, as pure as her intentions may be, that it’s made me shy to ask for it.

“Sure, let me just wash my hands. Be there in a sec.”

-

I hear the tap shut off and Michi’s footsteps, almost silent across the wooden floor.

The door opens. He smiles, softer than his usual fanged grin. He’s holding a pitcher and a stack of clothes. I must’ve forgotten do get mine.

I sit, waiting patiently as he fills it.

“So, did your colleagues find the evidence they were looking for? For all that trouble, they better have.”

The phrasing makes me laugh. “You’re so formal sometimes.”

He looks down, focusing on the label of the shampoo bottle, “Yeah well, my mum had high standards for me growing up because of my brother, she beat it into me before I left. Some of it stuck, I guess.”

I smile, not that can take away all he’s been through, but I can try. “They did find it, I’m not sure what it was though.”

He laughs at that. “Tip your head back.”

I do, letting the cool water cascade over my head.

-

He helps me up.

The clothes in the stack are a mix of mine and his. I borrow from him so much it’s hard to keep track. Well, I say that, but our styles are actually quite distinct. I don’t care, not really. His black tee is well-worn and comfortable.

While I finish dressing, he dries my hair. It’s at times like this when our two-centimetre height difference is noticeable. He doesn’t have to reach up at all. It’s kind of hot, I won’t lie.

-

Thinking about food is one thing, but at the sight of it, I’m suddenly queasy. Not from motion sickness, per se, but just the anxiety that I’ll be sick again if I eat it, a vicious cycle.

“Michi, ‘m gonna-”

He helps me to the sink, rubbing soft circles over my back. 

I haven’t eaten since breakfast, but since I managed to avoid being sick on the boat and in the car, it’s all coming back up. The smell and sight make me sick yet again until my mouth feels disgusting.

“Shit, you’re really not feelin’ good, huh? Maybe I should take your temp again.”

“N-no, m’ not ill. Just worried.”

He seems to get it, as he shifts his hands slowly, running them down my side until his warm palms are against my upset stomach. “I promise, food will make you better, it always does.”

“Y-yeah, I know. M’ just dumb.”

“You really gotta stop sayin’ that.”

“Sorry.”

“That too.”

“Sor- I mean,d pens’t this gross you out.”

“Not really, I’ve seen worse. Besides I’m used to it . . . oh, not from you. You’re fine, I, uh, just had this friend, you know. Anyways, are you good for sec? I’ll get water.”

(A/N: Fukuchi’s always getting hungover lmao)

I nod.

He brings a glass with ice, fills it and hands it to me. I swallow and spit, repeating the process until I can’t taste the bile anymore.

“Better?”

I nod again, still shocked by the rudeness of it.

“You need only eat a bit, just to have something in your stomach before you take the pills. I’m not keen on a repeat of last time.”

There’s that formality again.

Last time. I had a bug so I took paracetamol without eating, got sick then passed out in the bathroom for a few hours.

“Me either.” I let him lead me to the table.

True to his word, and what I know in the back of my mind, the broth is harmless. I manage nearly a whole bowl with a small serving of salad before downing the medication with tea.

-

“See?” He’s smiling as we settle down on the sofa, “You’re fine now.”

“Thanks.”

“No problem.”

Now that I’ve cooled down, I miss his warmth again. I pull him closer until he wraps his arms around me.

“I’m so happy that I have you . . . I love you, Michizou.”

Maybe he didn’t hear, but then he leans down, lips brushing my ear, and whispers “Love you too, Juni.”

Suddenly the film isn’t nearly as interesting, not as much as Michizou’s finger in my hair anyway, making me feel all warm and fuzzy. I’m tired today, and I dislike lying, but maybe I’ll tell the President I’m still not feeling so good tomorrow.

Gosh, the things we do for love.

[strawberryujamm]

over an ice cream

• a burnt-out college student who suddenly receives a phone call from his longtime friend Jimin, to say he's waiting outside her house.

pairing: jimin x reader

genre: fluff, longtime best friends, college students, unspoken but mutual feelings

words: 1.2k

warnings: none

a/n: this is my first fanfic! i felt inspired to write it. it's definitely not the best i could write as of now and i only polished it a bit (coz i'm sick and i have little time to do so) but i just like to share this one just because. thank you in advance to anyone who will read this ♡ hope u like it :>

—

Holding my cup of instant coffee, I glanced at the clock that had been keeping my attention for the past 5 hours. It's already 11:00 pm but I still have a lot of school stuff to finish. It's stressing me out, but there's no other time to do it all, as I've been sick these past few days and had to put them off for a while.

I sighed and looked at my messy table. Then I looked behind me and laid my eyes longingly at my bed.

"If I sleep, I'd be doomed tomorrow," I said to myself.

I've been thinking about a lot of things, especially for tomorrow's afternoon classes. I think I might not have prepared enough for our lectures, but I just felt burnt out from all the work that needed to be done within a limited timeframe and with such little time for a breather. I really need to take a good break after all this.

Okay, let's do this.

I faced my laptop again and continued to scan our readings, write some notes, and edit a presentation, while also finalizing a script and my schedule planner for this week. I was juggling from one task to another, and it felt never-ending.

I emptied the remaining coffee from my cup and leaned on my swivel chair. My eyes are strained from looking at the big screen for hours. I massaged my head as I started to feel it aching again.

The time felt so slow but I felt like I was running out of it. It's now 1:15 am so I decided to take a quick break. I felt hungry, but eating would just make me feel sleepier than I am right now, so I tried to shake it off my mind.

When suddenly, my phone rang—louder than usual, on a night that fell into a deep silence.

I grabbed my phone on the bed to check. Who on earth would call at this hour?

My heart started to race as I read the caller ID.

Park Jimin

How long has it been since we last talked? I fell quiet for a moment before realizing that I needed to answer. I tapped the answer button.

He quickly spoke.

"Hey, Y/N. I'm sorry for calling this late... Are you busy?" I could hear his heavy breathing like he just ran a marathon.

I didn't realize how much I missed his voice.

Panicking to respond, all I could say was, "Oh, Jimin. It's been so long! What is it? Are you okay?"

"Well, yeah...I've been trying to message but I couldn't reach you. So, I called your number instead. I hope I didn't bother you."

Oh, that's why.

"Uh-huh. About that. I was busy working through my backlogs, I didn't have time to check on my messages. I'm taking a break now." I tried to keep it cool; I tried to hide the fact that his voice alone made me elated.

I waited for him to explain why he called, and a part of me was hopefully anticipating...for something. He responded after a few seconds.

"Sorry. The thing is, I'm outside your house." I could hear him laugh nervously.

"What?" I suddenly froze on my chair, obviously stunned at what he said. Thinking of what to do, I was hoping he was only saying it for fun.

But I don't think so. Do I have to go out? With my appearance right now, I don't think I can face him. Even after all these years of being friends, I still tend to get conscious around him. Yet he doesn't know.

"Y/N?" My trail of thoughts disappeared as I heard his voice over the phone again.

"H-huh?"

"I asked if we can meet right now?"

Even with all the thinking, my mouth automatically said yes.

—

I went outside and saw him standing near the gate; his back against the wall and both of his arms hugging a big brown paper bag. It was a cute sight, yet I couldn't help to also notice his sharp features from his side amidst the dark, complimenting his delicate features.

He still looked the same.

He might have finally felt my presence as he turned to look in my direction. His face brightened as he saw me, and I felt mine did too.

He smiled as he walked towards me and handed me the paper bag. I can smell the floral scent of his favorite perfume.

"You went here just to give me ice cream?" I asked him after peeking at the bag. Unbelievable, I thought.

I couldn't contain my smile and my racing heartbeat. He sure was random, but I was deeply moved by the act. I have just yet to realize the situation—that he's here and we finally meet again—when he opened his mouth to speak.

"Well, I just happened to walk past the convenience store and thought of you, I think." Jimin smiled proudly and then seconds later, scratched the back of his neck.

"At 1 am, Park Jimin?" I let out an amused laugh.

"Why not? We used to go for late-night walks before. I just..." his voice trailed off.

"Hmm. Just what?" I squinted my eyes at him. It's not common for him to randomly appear with two pints of my favorite ice cream, especially at midnight.

But it was indeed true. We used to walk together during late hours and I couldn't help but to briefly reminisce those moments.

Jimin looked back at me.

"I missed it."

I was taken aback by his words. It sounded so careful and warm to hear from his mouth and I almost forgot how to breathe.

I didn't know what to say.

His eyes with such intensity, locked with mine, and none of us was letting go. As much as I wanted to look elsewhere because of the tension, my eyes remained on him.

Before I could fall any deeper into his brown eyes, he looked away and broke the silence.

He hesitantly said, "I mean, I know we rarely see each other nowadays because we're busy. But I just wanted to let you know that I'm still here. I've been wondering about you, Y/N." He looked down, trying to escape from my gaze.

If my heart could literally melt like the ice cream inside the bag I was holding, I'd probably drop on the pavement right now.

"I'm glad you called all of a sudden. I am also wondering about you these days, Jimin," the words unconsciously escaped from my lips. I could feel his eyes on me, and now I'm the one who's looking away.

I sensed his surprised reaction and it was the same as mine.

"I'm...I'm happy to know you feel the same." He sighed in relief.

There was a moment of silence but it didn't feel awkward. I tried to hide my face from him because I could feel myself blushing.

Maybe, I was wrong about thinking I'm the only one who keeps a one-sided feeling. That we both share something mutual in each other's stares and hesitant words and none of us had ever noticed, not until now.

Perhaps he also treasured every fluttering moment that occurred between us. And maybe...maybe both of us share the same unspoken realization right now that would soon be heard.

"The ice cream's probably melted," I said observing the wet paper bag. I just had to say something.

Jimin nodded. "Let's eat it now then. Together?" His eyes sparked with anticipation.

I gladly responded, "Together."

Who knew I would get my early break this midnight?

☆ strawberryujamm - march 11, 2025