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dreamauri · 4 months

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♪ — 𝗝𝗨𝗦𝗧 𝗧𝗛𝗘 𝗘𝗬𝗘𝗦 lando norris x co-worker! fem! reader (fluff) “. . . your co-worker and former classmate has a public crush on you, and you try to play it off. but who are you kidding? it's lando.”

( my master list | more of lando norris ) ( requests | taglist )

yn.ln posted on their story

liked by pieregasly charles_leclerc and 32.8k others ★ ☆ ━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

yn.ln

liked by pieregasly charles_leclerc and 29.7k others yn.ln it's been a minute, lets recap.

landonorris Y/N WHAT ARE THESE??!! ↳ yn.ln my favourite parts of the year, duh

username this is GOLD! Lando's face in the third pic is a whole mood😆 ↳ yn.ln RIGHT?! that's his 'I just lost a bet' expression

landonorris when did you take that one in the hospital?? ↳ yn.ln you said and i quote "im looking very pretty right now. take a picture and hang it on my face." ↳ oscarpiastri i can see it ↳ yn.ln i can hear him saying "oscahh" in the corner ↳ landonorris . . . the block botton looks so good rn ↳ yn.ln do it i dare you. ↳ landonorris .... YOU DONT HAVE TO EMBARESS ME INFRONT OF THE INTERNET ↳ username 💀mom?

username lando pointing at the help me thingy pleas-

maxfewtrel send me the whole camera roll? ↳ yn.ln ya got it boss, that's 50 dollars ↳ landonorris ARE YOU MAKING MONEY OFF ME??

username THE LAST PICTURE!! WHY DIDN'T WE SEE THIS BEFORE??!! ↳ yn.ln sorry, i randomly found it in my camera roll, here it is now tho ↳ username god bless you y/n ↳ landonorris she cant be blessed cause she's a demon ↳ yn.ln 😇yet you're standing at my door holding a board game. ↳ landonorris STOP OUTING ME ↳ username god bless you y/n ↳ username god bless you y/n ↳ username god bless you y/n ↳ username god bless you y/n ↳ maxfewtrel LMAO

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landonorris and yn.ln posted on their stories

seen by pierregasly, oscarpiastri, and 76.9K others

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yn.ln and landonorris posted on their stories

seen by pierregasly, landonorris, and 67.9K others

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landonorris

liked by pieregasly maxverstapen1 and 29.7k others landonorris got our first date!

yn.ln not a date <3 ↳ landonorris i do not see👍 ↳ username please date him y/n ↳ username pleaseeeeeeeeeee ↳ username please y/nn ↳ yn.ln nahhh

maxfewtrell it's not a date if i was there ↳ landonorris YOU WEREN'T EVEN INVITED MATE ↳ yn.ln i invited him😛 ↳ landonorris traitorrrr ↳ yn.ln you love me ↳ landonorris i do. very much. ↳ yn.ln ew. my eyes are burning ↳ maxfewtrell 🙄some simp ↳ yn.ln lando no-rizz haha ↳ username y/n called lando ew?🥲 ↳ landonorris STOP BULLYING ME, I HAVE FEELINGS ↳ maxfewtrell says you, you destroyed mine flirting with y/n right in front of me ↳ yn.ln should we get him tickets to flirting lesson for Christmas ↳ landonorris 😔💔

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yn.ln

liked by pieregasly maxverstapen1 and 26.9k others yn.ln rain!!

landonorris no photo credits 🤨?? excuse me?? ↳ yn.ln laando

oscarpiastri keep your head inside the car ↳ yn.ln buzz kill 😒 ↳ maxverstappen1 he's right though ↳ yn.ln wont happen again, sir🫡 ↳ landonorris go away max🫠

username waiting for lando's weird ass girl energy comments

landonorris slay queen👑👑💗💗🥰

landonorris the one and only 💋 ↳ username oh my god lando ↳ username SOMOMW SCRENSHOT BEFORE Y/N KILLS HIM ↳ yn.ln make me cringe one more time. i dare you.

landonorris showed them how its done😍😍😍 ↳ username MY EYES? ARE THEY FR?? ↳ username YESS ITS REAL!! ↳ username my heart, hes so cutee

landonorris ate and left no crumbs💅 ↳ yn.ln make me cringe one more time. i dare you. ↳ landonorris ouch, my good vibes sending 🥲 ↳ username woman gave him an ultimatum ↳ username Y/N NO PLEASEEE I BEGG

landonorris ... you're very pretty ...??? ↳ landonorris DONT BLOCK ME IM SORRY ↳ yn.ln that was good for once. i'll take it ↳ landonorris 😁

landonorris very pretty <3↳ username i will seriously stop believing in love if they dont grow old together

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landonorris

liked by pieregasly oscarpistri and 26.9k others landonorris turns out, she really likes compliments!

yn.ln no, i actually like your eyes more ↳ landonorris im dreaming ↳ yn.ln i'll take it back then ↳ landonorris NO!

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yn.ln

liked by pieregasly oscarpistri and 26.9k others yn.ln just the eyes

landonorris i feel appreciated ↳ yn.ln its a mr and ms norris genetics appreciation post ↳ landonorris i'll take it

username its official?

carlossianz55 i taught him the pick up lines ↳ yn.ln he needs more lessons please, im begging ↳ landonorris aw come on! i really tried this time!

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ewanmitchellcrumbs · 5 months

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The Golden Ratio - Part One

Pairing: Michael Gavey (Saltburn) x f!reader Warnings: Derogatory language, angst, mentions of parental death, mentions of infidelity. Word count: ~4.5k

Chapter summary: Her relationship strains under the pressure of long distance, though she has her classmate, Michael, to help distract from the worst of it. Series masterlist.

Author's note: For @assortedseaglass. No tag list. Please follow @ewanmitchellcrumbs and turn on post notifications. Community labels are for cops.

She is sweaty and exasperated as she drags her suitcase over the cobbles of Holywell Street. One of the already precariously wonky wheels had finally given up the ghost and broken off as she’d dragged it up the stairs of Oxford train station, making the fifteen minute walk to her accommodation more tiring than it needed to be.

But she was here, finally. Oxford University.

Her dad had sold the car to make sure she had money to live on until her student loan and maintenance grant had been paid to her. He didn’t want her taking a part time job to make ends meet, she’d worked hard to earn her place here, her focus should be on her studies. Coming from a low income family meant she had qualified for the maximum amount for both maintenance loan and grant, but her first set of application forms had been misplaced by Student Finance, so she’d had to send in a second set, meaning there would be a delay with her first payment.

An unfortunate consequence of her dad not having a car is that she’d had to get the train to London Victoria, a tube to Paddington, then another train to Oxford. But it is not the fact that she is seemingly the only student whose parents aren’t obstructing the pavements with their cars in order to drop them off that makes her feel like an outcast, there is something deeper, more sinister feeling.

She sees it as she struggles to get her bag across the lawn of the Halls, people grouped in little clusters, as though they’ve been friends forever. They dress in Juicy Couture velour tracksuit bottoms and brand name Ugg Boots, while she wears her mum’s old Dr. Martens and a tartan skirt she’d bought in a charity shop for one pound fifty. She doesn’t fit in. She feels she may as well wear the word “poor” across her forehead like a scarlet letter.

Having checked in at the Porters’ Lodge and been given directions to the accommodation, it’s lonely as she unpacks her things, her room feeling empty and quiet. The only sounds are muffled talking and laughter coming through the closed window from outside. She feels lonelier still when she pulls out the framed photo of her and Rich. They’re both smiling, his arms wrapped around her waist as she leans her head against his. It had felt like their relationship would last forever when that picture was taken. That seemed like much less of a possibility over the last couple of weeks.

She had met Rich at the beginning of sixth form. Having attended Chatham Grammar School for Girls, she had decided to stay on there to do her A levels. The mathematics department was decent, and she had heard Russell Group universities were more likely to consider applications that came from grammar schools. Rich had transferred over from Robert Napier School. Where she was shy, quiet and reserved, he was lively, outgoing and sociable. His zest for life had shone a bright light on an existence that was, for her, otherwise dull and grey.

They were an unlikely pairing. She was logical, analytical and studied maths and physics. Rich was creative, free spirited and guided by emotion. He studied art and music. They had been together for two years and she had thought he was the one. But then it came time for UCAS applications, and where she had applied to Oxford, Cambridge and York, Rich had applied to Leeds, Brighton and Glasgow. It seemed that no matter where they were accepted, they were destined to be apart.

When she had received an unconditional offer from Oxford she had been elated, however, the crushing devastation upon hearing Rich had been accepted into The Glasgow School of Art with a conditional offer had quickly dulled her excitement.

She had never felt like an outsider or a loner when she was with Rich. Basking in his sunny disposition had felt effortless, she never felt alone. He was going to take all of that away, and she was unsure of how to cope with it.

“We’ll make it work long distance, don’t worry,” he’d told her, and she’d believed him.

But then he had actually gone to Glasgow. Fresher’s week in Glasgow started a week earlier than it did in Oxford, so Rich had moved away first. It didn’t take long for the texts and phone calls to dry up into nothing. She had heard from him once in the last few days.

She sighs as she slides up the screen of her beaten up Nokia. Still nothing. She had text to let him know she was leaving for Oxford today and he couldn’t even be bothered to reply. She knows it’s his first week at university and he’s likely busy and having fun, but how was long distance going to work if they never actually spoke to each other?

Despite the loftiness of the dining hall, it feels stuffy as she moves through it later that evening, taking a seat at a long table crowded with other students. She had hoped that the Fresher’s welcome dinner would be an opportunity to make friends, but everyone seems to be deep in conversation already. The chatter hums loudly like white noise, until it comes to a sudden stop.

“FUCKIN’ ASK ME A SUM THEN!”

She turns, mouth agape, to look at the pair of boys sitting a few places up from her. One is darked haired and seems nervous and uncomfortable, shifting awkwardly in his seat. The other is blonde, an angry, intense expression on his face, shadows cast across it from the lamplight on the table, as he stares in wide eyed anticipation. It was him who had shouted, clearly.

“Four hundred and twenty three times seventy eight,” the dark haired boy asks quietly.

Instantly his friend replies, without missing a beat, “thirty two thousand, nine hundred and ninety four.”

Involuntarily her eyes widen in surprise. She sits there and does the calculation in her head, though much more slowly than he had.

Carry the two, eight times two is sixteen, plus two is eighteen, carry the one…he’s right. How is it possible that he came to that answer so quickly?

When her gaze lifts he is looking at her, observing her doing the working out in her head. He holds her stare, a smirk curving the corners of his mouth. He knows she knows he is right, and it’s clear he feels smug about it.

Quickly looking away, she reaches for her water glass, wanting something, anything, to distract her. There was something about the way he looked at her that made her feel uneasy.

God, I hope I don’t have any classes with him.

She holds her timetable for the week in her hands as she moves her way through the corridors towards the lecture hall the following morning. The first week looks to be fairly light touch, with an introductory lecture for each of the courses; algebra, analysis, probability and statistics, geometry, dynamics and multivariable calculus. Today is the introduction to analysis, and she is excited to study under the tutelage of Professor Helen Byrne. Her research focuses on the development and analysis of mathematical and computational models that describe biomedical systems, with particular application to the growth and treatment of solid tumours, wound healing and tissue engineering. Professor Byrne is someone she has admired within the field for as long as she can remember, and she is very much looking forward to her tutorials with her.

Her excitement fades when she enters the lecture hall and immediately sees the angry guy from the previous evening.

Just my luck.

The only available seat is next to him, so she sits down, dropping her bag to the floor by her feet.

A hand extends out towards her in her peripheral vision, taking her by surprise and she turns in her seat towards it, shrinking back slightly.

He seems utterly unperturbed by her reaction, keeping his arm extended. “I’m Michael Gavey.”

She blinks, regaining her composure as she leans forward, shaking his hand and introducing herself in return. His palm is clammy against her own, and she can still feel it there even after having let go and wiped her hand on her jeans.

“I saw you last night,” he says matter of factly, pulling his arm back and resting his elbow on the desk in front of him.

“Oh, yeah,” she says with a tight smile, nodding, “so you and your mate…is that like a party trick or something?”

“No, no party trick,” he says with a demure smile. “I’m a genius.”

She forces herself to laugh politely, assuming he’s making a joke, but she stops, her brow furrowing slightly when she sees he doesn’t share in the humour. He’s being serious.

Opening her mouth to ask a follow up question, she’s interrupted as Professor Byrne sweeps into the room. Her and Michael both face forward in their seats as she introduces herself to the class.

Over the next hour they are given an introduction to the course and what to expect in their first year, including an overview of the papers they will need to write and examinations that will be sat. She pays rapt attention, scribbling furious notes, until the lecture begins to wrap up.

“As it’s the first week, I will go easy on assignment setting,” Professor Byrne tells them all, “but there will be an assignment nonetheless.”

A loud, collective groan echoes around the lecture hall. Her and Michael are the only two not to join in.

“Now, now, settle down,” she chastises, “it’ll be fun. I’m sure you’re all aware of the Fibonacci Sequence, a series of numbers where each number is the sum of the two preceding numbers. Mathematically we can describe this as–”

She turns and scrawls xn= xn-1 + xn-2 on the chalkboard, before facing the students again.

“--I’d like you all to find an example of the Fibonacci Sequence in real life and present it back to the class during next week’s lecture. You’re to work in pairs, so buddy up, and see you all next week.”

Professor Byrne places the chalk back on the desk before striding back out of the lecture hall. The room is instantly a buzz with chatter, as people move between seats to find a partner.

She stays rooted in place, suddenly wishing Rich was here. It’s in moments like these that he flourishes, allowing her to take a backseat as he effortlessly navigates them through social interactions. Instead, she is alone and the space around her feels bigger and scarier with every moment that passes.

It’s only when she turns her head that she notices Michael has yet to move too. Gathering all the courage she can muster, she clears her throat and speaks to him.

“So…er…did you wanna partner up for this thing then?”

“I don’t like to work with others,” he says matter of factly, keeping his gaze fixed ahead.

“I’m not exactly thrilled about it either,” she says with a sigh, “but for this assignment we have to.”

“You’ve picked me because I’m a genius. You’ll expect me to do all the work while you get pissed with your mates.”

He fixes her with an accusatory stare, and she feels the heat of anger prickle her skin.

“Haven’t got any mates,” she mutters darkly.

He observes her for a few moments, elbow propped on the desk, jaw resting against his fist, and she fidgets self consciously in her seat. No wonder the other boy from last night had looked so uncomfortable. It feels like he’s studying her.

“Let’s go to the library,” he says simply, standing and picking up his bag.

“So, you’re a genius?” She asks, opening her notebook once they’re seated opposite each other at a table in the library, nervously tapping her pencil against the page.

“Hmm,” Michael nods, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose with his index finger, “I don’t even like maths, really. I can just…do it. Anything. In my head.”

She’s struck by how blunt he is, sucking in a breath as she considers what to say next. There is something so disarming about him, she gets the sense he’s analysing her every word and action.

“Right,” she begins, “so, er, for this assignment I was thinking about how Leonardo Fibonacci used rabbits to prove his theory. One hundred and forty four pairs of rabbits can be produced from a single pair of rabbits in a year, based on the sequence.”

“That’s fucking stupid,” Michael replies with a sigh.

“What?” She asks irritably, annoyed by his dismissal.

“What are you expecting us to do, go to a pet shop and buy rabbits? We’ve only got a week to do the assignment, we need to be more practical.”

She rolls her eyes. “I was using that as an example, not saying we do that exactly! Come on then, genius, what’s your suggestion?”

“Spirals,” he says with a slight shrug. He leans across, placing the tips of his fingers on her notebook and sliding it towards himself, before picking up her pencil. “There is a special relationship between the Fibonacci numbers and the Golden Ratio, a ration that describes when a line is divided into two parts and the longer part - A - divided by the smaller part - B - is equal to the sum of A + B divided by A, which both equal one point six one eight. This is represented by the Greek letter,” he stops to scribble a φ on the pad. “The ratio of any two successive Fibonacci Numbers approximates the Golden Ratio value.” He stops again, scrawling 1.6180339887 on the page. The bigger the pair of Fibonacci numbers, the closer the approximation. From there, we can calculate what's called the golden spiral, or a logarithmic spiral whose growth factor equals the golden ratio.”

She is stunned into a silence for a moment, a combination of his audacity to simply take her belongings, and awe at the rapidity with which his mind works. Collecting herself, she blinks a few times, looking up into his eyes.

They’re so blue.

“So…er…how do you propose we present this data back to the class?”

“A simple table is sufficient, look–”

His hand moves rapidly over the page, a complete table there on the paper when he drops the pencil into the gutter of the notebook and sits back in his chair.

“We present that,” he tells her, his eyes fixed on the page. “Using the values of the sequence as the edge length of squares arranged in the table, a spiral is generated.”

She leans over, sliding the notebook back to her side of the table, marvelling silently at his work. He is fascinating to watch. He’s right, he can just do maths.

“It’s good,” she says, eye flitting up to meet his, “solid. But it’s fucking boring.”

This time it’s his turn to be annoyed. “What?” He asks, eyes narrowing.

“Everyone is going to present something like this, because it’s easy,” she explains, “Don’t you want to stand out to Professor Byrne? We should do something outside of the box.”

“Hmm. Go on then, what are you thinking?” He rests his cheek against his fist, leaning against the table as he stares at her.

She feels herself grow warm under his scrutiny.

Does he always have to be so bloody intense?

“There are loads of examples of Fibonacci numbers appearing in nature. We could look for some? Flowers, perhaps.”

“I’ve got hayfever,” Michael states simply.

She sighs.

Of course you do.

“Then we’ll get you some Piriton! Come on, there are studies that show seed heads, pinecones, fruits and vegetables all displaying spiral patterns that when counted express Fibonacci numbers. This fits perfectly with the brief of the assignment and will leave a lasting impression.”

He moves his hand away from his face, resting his arm flat on the table and quietly drumming his fingers against it for a few moments. “Alright then,” he finally concedes.

“Great,” she grins excitedly, tearing out a page from her notebook and writing on it hurriedly. “Here’s my number, so we can meet up to work on it, and also my Hotmail address, in case MSN works better for you.”

He huffs through his nose as he takes the paper from her, a soft laugh escaping him. “The countess at hotmail dot co dot uk,” he reads with amusement, “very droll.”

“Shut up,” she grins back, “I made that in secondary school. Thought it was funny.”

Back in her room that evening, she’s excited to see she has a text from Rich, finally.

Hope ur enjoying it. Having so much fun here!

She sighs, throwing her phone down on the bed side table. No kisses, not even an “I love you”.

Watching out of the window, she sees the giggling groups of students making their way out into town, readying themselves to spend the night drinking, making friends and having fun. Just like Rich is doing, not giving her a second thought, while she stays cooped up in her room without a friend in the world.

Suspicion nags at her, so she turns on her laptop, loading up MySpace. Rich takes number one place on her top eight friends, and she clicks on his profile. It looks much the same as it always does, but she decides to snoop further, clicking into his friends list. She can see he has recently friended a girl named Sophie.

Sophie is pretty, bright pink streaks in her hair, and a nose ring. Exactly Rich’s type. Her most recently uploaded photos are of groups of people, clearly all taken during Fresher’s week. A pit forms in her stomach as she sees that in almost all of them Sophie and Rich have their arms around each other. Worse still, Rich occupies space eight in Sophie’s top friends.

She closes the browser, blinking back tears. Surely, she is just being paranoid. They’re just friends. Friends have photos together, and it was normal that he would make new ones when he went away to uni.

Opening MSN Messenger, she hovers over Rich’s username. Unsurprisingly, he’s offline, he always is these days. She smiles when an add request from [email protected] pops up. Of course he’d have Tau, the mathematical constant, in his Hotmail address. She clicks accept and he immediately appears in her online contacts. Looks like he isn’t out tonight either.

Double clicking his username, she chuckles to herself upon seeing his display picture is of Pythagoras. Such a dweeb.

“Want to work on our assignment tomorrow?” She types to him.

Barely a few seconds pass before she sees him typing back. “Yes. When?”

“We could meet at the Water Meadow at lunch time?”

“See you then.”

Straight to the point, no idle chit chat. She shakes her head and closes the messenger window, though finds herself strangely excited by the thought of seeing him tomorrow. She reasons that it’s because Michael is the closest thing she has had to a friend since arriving at Oxford.

She visits the nearby Tesco Express the following day, buying a meal deal for each of them and a packet of hayfever tablets for Michael. She has no idea of what Michael even likes, so plays it safe by buying a bottle of Oasis, a Crunchie bar and a ham and cheese sandwich for them both.

At precisely noon, Michael stands at the entrance to the Water Meadow waiting for her. She smiles as she looks at his t-shirt; maroon with a diagram of a circle on a gradient with a downwards acceleration of 9.81 meters per second, with the slogan “that’s how I roll”. A mechanics pun.

“Like your shirt,” she says as she approaches him.

He grins. “Thought you might, considering your email address.”

She averts her gaze. There is something about the fact that he’d thought of her when he’d chosen what to wear today that makes her tummy flutter.

Stop it. You’ve got Rich. Michael’s weird!

“I got you some hayfever tablets,” she tells him as they start to walk along the pathway that’s flanked by green space on either side. “Do you wanna have lunch first and then start looking for flowers?”

They settle, cross legged on the grass, Michael already having taken one of the tablets, chased with half a bottle of Oasis, and she spreads out the food between them.

She watches in fascination as his eyes widen at the sight of the Crunchie bars, snatching one up and tearing off the wrapper. Her mouth falls open slightly as she sees him hold it sideways, biting into it from the side, before devouring each of the pieces it inevitably breaks into.

“You like Crunchie bars then?” She asks, a little grossed out, but curious nonetheless.

He swallows, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. “Mother didn’t allow me to have sweets growing up, bad for your teeth, she said.”

She nods, a feeling over pity replacing the disgust that had roiled her stomach just seconds ago.

“So, is it your mum that pushed you into studying maths?” She asks, fiddling with the lid of her drink bottle.

“Sort of,” he says. “Mother never married, but she wanted a child. She used a sperm donor - a physicist, apparently - and was artificially inseminated to have me. She was thrilled when I showed a natural aptitude for maths, and has always encouraged me. It’s why I do it, why I accepted the scholarship, to make her proud. She’s been through so much to have me, it’s the least I owe her.”

Her face falls, a feeling of sadness overwhelming her, making her heart ache for Michael. There is something so tragic about the fact that he has lived his entire life adhering to the expectations of the person who had created him for their own selfish want of a child.

“What about you then?” He asks. “The bank of mummy and daddy paying for you to be here?”

She shakes her head. “I earned my place, just like you did, with straight As, though I don’t have a scholarship. Have had to take out loans to cover the cost. It’s just me and dad since mum passed away.”

“Oh,” Michael says, blinking rapidly, obviously surprised. “Apologies, I’d assumed a pretty girl like you would be the same as the rest of the vapid cunts studying here, if you can call it studying.”

She hums in acknowledgement, considering his words, turning her own Crunchie bar around in her fingers, focusing on the way the foil wrapper slides against her skin. His compliment makes her heart beat more rapidly, even if it is backhanded. “Like I said yesterday, I’ve got no mates. It was always Rich that was better at that sort of thing.”

“Rich?” Michael asks curiously, cocking his head.

“My boyfriend. He’s at uni in Glasgow.”

“Three hundred and sixty two point nine miles,” Michael states simply.

“Pardon?”

“That’s the distance between Oxford and Glasgow,” he explains, as though it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “How are you planning to make a relationship work with that sort of distance?”

“We’re doing long distance,” she argues, feeling herself growing defensive, scowling at him.

“Yeah, I bet that’s gonna work out great,” he scoffs, eyes widening, clearly mocking her.

“The Glasgow School of Art was the best choice for Rich to study what he wants to,” she retorts.

A grin spreads across his face. “Art?! I suppose you should be grateful he’s hundreds of miles away then, he sounds like a moron.”

She huffs, hurriedly shoving her things back into her bag. “Let’s just look for these fucking flowers and get this over with.”

The pair work for the rest of the afternoon in silence, the atmosphere is tense and angry, but they are productive nevertheless, settling on a patch of sunflowers to use for the assignment.

They look at the spirals of seeds in the center of the sunflowers and observe patterns curving left and right. Counting these spirals, their total is a Fibonacci number. They then divide the spirals into those pointed left and right to get two consecutive Fibonacci numbers.

Cutting down a couple of sunflower heads to use as examples, Michael also makes a diagram in his notes for them to present with their findings.

She feels satisfied by the time they part ways, but an uneasy feeling has settled over her that has dread gnawing into her gut as she thinks about Michael’s criticism of her and Rich’s long distance relationship.

Unsurprised to see she has no missed calls or texts from him when she goes back to her room, she opens up her laptop and logs back onto MySpace. This time when she looks at Rich’s profile her blood runs cold as she sees that Sophie now occupies space number three in his top friends. He’d had time to log on and change the position of a girl he’d met a couple of weeks ago, but couldn’t be bothered to send her a single message?

Before she can stop herself, she’s pulling out her phone and calling his number. She doesn’t care if this wastes all of her credit, she needs answers.

It rings for ages, and she anticipates being sent to voicemail, until he eventually answers, sounding breathless and distracted.

“H-hello?”

“Rich, it’s me,” she says quietly.

There’s a pause before he answers. “Oh…how’s my little nerd? Everything okay?”

She ignores the familiarity, keeping her tone neutral. “I’m going to ask you something, and I want you to be honest with me.”

Not giving him an opportunity to respond, she pushes on. “Has something happened between you and this Sophie girl I’ve seen you on Myspace with?”

Another pause, except this time she hears him inhale a deep breath. “I was going to tell you when we came home for Christmas break. It felt wrong to break up with you over the phone.”

It feels as though the bottom of her world has been ripped away, her heart twisting painfully as her vision blurs with tears. She swallows thickly, anger bubbling alongside her devastation, so that her tone is venomous when she replies “So, you were just gonna keep stringing me along for two months, so you could look like a good guy?!”

“Babe, no, I didn’t mean for this to happen, I just–”

“You’re a piece of shit,” she cuts him off, “fuck you!”

She hangs up, chucking her phone down onto the bed, and immediately bursts into tears, holding her head in her hands as hot tears stream down her face, her shoulders shaking as her nose grows snotty.

Two years. Two fucking years and he’d chucked it all away for someone he’d known for two weeks.

She walks towards the sink in her room, looking into the mirror and sighing at her reflection. Her eyes are red and puffy, she looks a mess. Splashing cold water onto her face to rid herself of the worst of it, she then flops down onto her bed, opening her laptop.

Immediately she is met with her MSN chat window with Michael from the previous evening. He’s online.

Without thinking, she types out a message to him.

“Do you have any alcohol?”

Within seconds he’s typing a response.

“Would you like me to have alcohol?”

#michael gavey x reader #michael gavey x you #michael gavey x y/n #michael gavey imagine #michael gavey smut #michael gavey angst #michael gavey #michael gavey saltburn #saltburn michael gavey #ewan mitchell #saltburn #michael gavey fan fiction #michael gavey fanfiction #michael gavey fanfic #michael gavey fan fic #saltburn fanfiction #saltburn fan fiction #saltburn fan fic #saltburn fanfic

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slayfics · 6 months

Text

Explosive tendencies a slow burn fanfic about the readers developing relationship with Katsuki Bakugo.

Chapter one: You stalk Katsuki’s social media page.

Chapter links

Your phone lit up with a notification buzzing on your desk. You pick up your phone to see a notification from Instagram and see that Izuku has followed you. You curiously look at his page and see that it has an overwhelming amount of All Might photos, then click over to see who else he is following and quickly realize he has followed everyone from the class.

You had just recently started your first year at U.A. and still hadn't interacted too much with your other classmates. So curiosity got the best of you as you scrolled through Izuku's following list to look at some of your classmate's pages to get a better understanding of them.

You glanced at many of your classmates pages. Mina's page was super pink and most photos were either selfies or her or her out with friends. She seemed to have an easy time making friends and getting along with others. She was probably the classmate you had the most interactions with. Purely because she would come up to you as if she had already known you her whole life. Much like she did to everyone else.

Shoto's page was empty expect for one picture of soba.

Eijiro's page had only two photos. One of the pro hero Crimson Riot and another was a selfie with his bright red hair. You couldn't help but wonder if some of your classmates deleted their old photo's to start over fresh at U.A.

Kyoka had a bunch of pictures of concerts and band albums with a few pictures of herself in between.

Tenya had a bunch of picture's of books he read and recommended.

Continuing to scroll through Izuku's following list you stopped when coming across Katsuki's page.

You clicked on his page and scrolled through the few pictures he had. Your cheeks flushed ever so slightly looking at one of the selfies he had posted.

You weren't sure why but something about him had caught your attention. Ever since being in the same group as him in the U.A. entrance exam, you had found yourself curious about him. All of your other classmates seemed to be put off by his constant angry demeanor, but something about his tenacity made you want to know more about him.

You pulled your knees into your chest as you stared at your phone. Your phone was unlocked sitting idly on Katsuki's Instagram page. The bright screen illuminated your dimmed room.

You twirled your hair absentmindedly as you debated following him. Just do it, don't be a coward you told yourself. You swiftly picked up your phone and clicked follow then locked and dropped your phone down back on your desk.

To your surprise, your phone buzzed again shortly after, you quickly looked and felt your heart flutter. He had liked one of your pictures. Not just a picture, but a picture of yourself you posted a few days ago.

Your face flushed as you held your phone in your hand. Suddenly, your phone dinged with another notification making you jump.

He had followed back.

You gripped your phone in your hand harder as you scrolled over to direct message him and stared at the page feeling your cheeks get even warmer. Come on just say something, you tried to hype yourself up.

He liked your picture and followed you back so obviously that means something right? Fuck it just do it you said to yourself and typed out a message.

"Hey I never got a chance to ask what happened after we split up?"

You typed and sent swiftly before you lost your nerve. During a training for your class at USJ some villains had broken in and attacked the class. You were split up with Bakugo and Kirishima for a short time before the two boys decided to go after more of the villains while you went back to the exit with the rest of the class.

You set your phone down not expecting an answer any time soon but you were surprised to see three dots appear almost immediately. Your heart dropped at the next message.

"What’s your address? I’ll Come over and tell you all about it."

What?! Were you reading that right?? You never expected that response. Your hands started to shake a bit.

It was late and surely the others in the house wouldn’t approve of having him over at this time. Fuck- you knew you were supposed to be on your best behavior since starting U.A. but… how were you supposed to say no.

"You ok with sneaking in?"

"Yeah just hurry up and send your address."

Before putting any more thought into it you typed out your address and pressed send.

Oh crap- You looked around your room and noticed all the stuffed animals on your bed. You quickly shoved them all in the closet along with some loose clothes that were around your room.

It wasn't long before you heard a loud explosion from outside and your phone dinged again with a notification.

"Which window is yours?"

You opened your window and saw Katsuki standing outside, within a split second of spotting you he had used his quirk to be at your window seal. You backed up as he jumped into your room.

"Uh- Hi," You greeted him trying to sound confident but it was evident in your voice you were nervous.

Katsuki sat on your bed leaning back against the wall.

"So you want to know what happened?" He asked, his face adorned with his usual smirk.

"Yeah," you said, as you sat down in the chair at your desk facing Katsuki.

"We found the other villains and I took down that warp gate villain, which slowed the rest of them down."

"Wow really?!" You said, amazed. You knew All Might had shown up and taken over so you didn't expect to hear that Katsuki had played that much of a part in the fight.

"Fucking Deku got in my way though!" Katsuki yelled.

"Hey are you alright?" You heard someone else in the house call from outside the room as they approached your door.

"Shit!" You grabbed Katsuki by his shirt and shoved him into your closet. Just in time for them to knock on your door.

You opened your door, "Yeah sorry it was just the TV- didn't realize it was gonna be that loud." You lied.

"Oh- ok-," they said, slightly suspicious since your TV was off but having no other evidence decided to drop the subject. "Well goodnight don't stay up too late," they said as they started to walk away.

"I won't don't worry! Goodnight," you called back, shutting your door quickly.

You opened your closet door and a few of your stuffed animals fell out.

Katsuki had one of them in his hand, "This is a cute little guy," He said with a smug smirk on his face.

"Shut up," you said, reaching trying to grab the stuffed bear from him, but he quickly avoided your grasp.

"Did you hide these in the closet because I was coming over?" He asked, eyes analyzing you.

"I don't know what you're talking about," You said, stubbornly crossing your arms.

"I bet they were all on your bed, weren't they? Tell me the truth or the bear gets it," He said, sparks flying from his fingertips.

"Quite down! You're gonna get me in trouble!" You pleaded.

"Better hurry up and tell me then," he said, a smirk growing.

"Ok- Fine, yes! I moved them off my bed because you were coming over. Happy?" You said, giving in to his taunts. You tried to grab for the bear again but he moved the bear away from you once more.

"One more question, is this the first time you've had a boy in your room?" He asked. You felt your face instantly light up with a blush, and you averted your gaze looking at his feet.

"Hm- I'll take that as a yes," He laughed and handed out the bear for you to grab. You grabbed it from his hand, your fingers grazing across his when you did.

"Alright well I'll see you tomorrow, wouldn't want to get you in trouble, you're not supposed to stay up too late," He teased as he made his way back over to your window.

You turned around wanting to call out to him but didn't know what to say. As quickly as he came in, he left you alone in your room once more.

Thank you for reading! I’m very excited to share this series~

Tags: @unofficialmuilover

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obsessedwithceleste · 28 days

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Reflections

Mattheo Riddle x reader

Interlocked pt 1

Based on this request.

Summary: reflection (n) a serious thought or consideration.

word count: 2k

©️ obsessedwithceleste. all works posted here belong to me and should not be reposted or copied in any way or form.

You feel your hands beginning to tremble as you stare up at the large statue of a golden griffin that supposedly lead to the headmaster's office. An owl had dropped a letter on your bed just hours ago summoning you to him, and since then, you had been racking your brain trying to think of a reason for his request.

It was the last day of term before you were to return home for the summer. Most of your friends were in the dorms packing at that very moment, but not you. No, you were standing here, wondering why on Earth you were being called to the headmaster's office.

Your grades were fine, you hadn't gotten into any spats with a professor, or another student for that matter, you hadn't lost your house any points. You couldn't think of a single reason Dumbledore would want to see you. No. That wasn't true you realize. You were one of the names on the list of Dumbledore's Army.

But then why were none of your other classmates being summoned?

Before you could worry yourself any further, you look up at the statue in front of you.

“Lemon drop” you say timidly, not entirely sure that the password would work.

To your surprise however, the griffin lets out a loud grinding sound as it turns slowly, revealing a hidden staircase behind. Taking a deep breath and stealing yourself, you forge ahead, carefully making your way up the winding staircase.

You find yourself standing in a large study, bookshelves lining the walls, and previous headmasters roaming about the grande picture frames hanging above. Peering about, the room appears to be empty as you make your way up to the large desk that is centered in the room.

You didn’t mean to snoop. Well, maybe a little. A handful of seemingly random objects lay strewn atop the dark mahogany, a glimmer of silver catching your eye. Picking up the small object carefully, you find it to be a thick, silver ring embedded with dark emeralds. An ornate letter S carved into the heavy metal.

“I see you’ve taken a fancy to the Slytherin ring,” the raspy voice of Professor Dumbledore states as the man seems to materialize next to you.

Startled, you jolt back from the desk, the ring clattering against the wood as it falls from your hand.

“Professor! I’m so sorry. I hadn’t meant to snoop,” you rush, holding your hands tightly behind your back.

With a light chuckle, Dumbledore picks up the silver ring, a contemplative look on his face.

“Strange things heirlooms. This particular ring belonged to a Salazar Slytherin, you may have heard of him,” he says, a glimmer of mischief in his eye.

Your jaw drops open in shock. The Salazar Slytherin?

“In fact, all of these heirlooms once belonged to the houses of one of the founders.” He continues, picking up a heavy looking silver necklace dripping with sapphires and diamonds to inspect. “Curious that you choose that ring.”

“It just caught my eye,” you mumble. “What are you doing with all these anyway, Professor?”

The old man pauses, considering the jewels clasped tightly in his hand.

“I’ve been searching for something. Or somethings, rather. Which leads me to the reason you were brought here today. It is my understanding that you were one of the students involved with Harry Potter’s, tutoring sessions, shall we say?”

You hold your breath. Here it comes. You must be in some sort of trouble you think as you give a slight nod.

“You must know then, that Voldemort has returned.” Dumbledore states, a seriousness taking over his face.

Again, you nod your head slightly. You had heard what had happened at the department of mysteries obviously.

“And I assume you also know he has a son at this very school?”

Of course. Mattheo Riddle. A Slytherin, obviously, in your class. Mischievous and rowdy, with a reputation for breaking the hearts of girls throughout the school. How could you not know of him?

“Yes professor.”

Dumbledore once again takes a moment to observe you and you shift uncomfortably under his intense gaze.

“You must know, y/n that what I am about to ask next is not to be taken lightly.”

You blink back at the old man, not at all sure where this was going.

“During times like these, it is essential that we gather as much information as possible in order to overcome our enemies,” he explains, eyes never once leaving yours.

“I don’t think I quite understand what you’re asking sir. You want me to become a spy?”

Dumbledore pauses, head tilting as if trying to put his next words together as carefully as possible.

“It would be, quite beneficial, to have someone form a sort of- attachment to the young Mr. Riddle. Someone for example, who isn’t as connected to Mr. Potter, but still dedicated to his cause.”

“Someone like me.” You finish, taking in his words. “You want me to date Mattheo Riddle to gain information for you.”

You can see the glimmer in Dumbledore’s eyes once more as he ever so slightly gives a nod of his head.

“Of course a decision doesn’t need to be made immediately. You’ll have the summer to think things over, though y/n I must ask that this conversation remains private.”

His words churn in your head as you take a moment to truly understand what was being asked of you. If Voldemort had truly returned, this would send you right into the heart of the snake pit. A dangerous position indeed.

“Of course professor,” you mumble, as the old man leads you back in the direction of the staircase.

As you make your way back to your dormitory, you can’t shake the proposal from your mind. It was a monstrous ask for a teenager to become a spy so early in what you were sure was inevitably going to be war. But you were also sure that Dumbledore wouldn’t request this of you unless he was certain that it would be relatively safe. Especially considering you’d be within the confines of the school.

You let out an anxious sigh. You certainly had a lot to think about in the coming months.

Mattheo shivered feeling the cold draft that seemed to be a permanent resident of Malfoy Manor.

After his father’s self-proclaimed abominable travesty at the department of mystery, he had been moved into the manor with the rest of his father’s mindless followers. The only solace he had was the fact that both Draco Malfoy and Lorenzo Berkshire had been brought to reside in the manor as well, the three banding together to make it through the summer.

He sat with Enzo now in the library, the fireplace giving off just enough light for them to make out the small black print on the pages. This is really all life had been recently. Sitting in the library waiting for one of the adults to come calling for one of them before coming back to disassociate.

“He’s calling for you. Father told me to fetch you,” Draco says, from the library doorway, as if vocalizing Matthew’s thoughts. His pale face looked especially hollow, as if he’d seen a ghost- or more likely the Cruciatus curse.

Mattheo let’s put a deep sigh, dropping his book onto the table beside him as Enzo looks at the two with pity.

He despised the fact that his father had returned. Utterly loathed it in fact. Slytherin students at Hogwarts were already pariahs in the halls. But add on the last name Riddle? He was set up for failure, he thought bitterly to himself. And now with the whole Dark Lord nonsense. Mattheo sighed in annoyance.

He knew he should fear that thing that was his father, but honestly, he just couldn’t bring himself to care. He’d spent his entire life ostracized, assumed the worst of, beaten down, what more could the Dark Lord really take from him? He’d already made his life a living hell by simply giving him a name. He just didn’t care.

Mattheo lazily made his way to the Master’s wing of the mansion which his father had quickly taken over, displacing the Malfoys to a small guest room on the opposite side of the house. After placing the blame for his most recent failure on Lucious Malfoy, his father was reveling in humiliating the man in any way possible. He knew it was hitting Draco hard too, but they were too proud to say anything.

Finally reaching the large, perhaps intimidating double doors of the study his father was currently presiding in, Mattheo didn’t even need to knock as the doors flew open, eyes turning towards him.

The usual goons were there. Bellatrix of course, Lucius and Narcissa, Pettigrew, Severus. Even Theodore's father Nott Sr. They all watched in silence as he stepped a few feet into the room.

“Mattheo,” the eerie voice of his father hisses with glee as the boy enters.

“Father.” He replies dryly.

“Just the one I was looking for.”

“Well you did summon me.”

The Dark Lord glared at the petulant boy in front of him.

“Mattheo, dear boy, come closer.”

Mattheo frowns at his father’s request, grimacing at the thought of being anywhere near the ghastly creature. Nevertheless, he walks confidently further into the room, coming to stop directly in front of his father.

It didn’t take long for Mattheo to feel his father begin to try and pry into his mind, scavenging for something, though Mattheo wasn’t sure what. He steeled himself, having become rather familiar with occlumency since his father’s return. It really wasn’t difficult to off-track the Dark Lord, he had tended to see what he wanted to see, but not many of his followers had seemed to pick up on that particular trait.

After a few minutes of this, the Dark Lord seemed to grow frustrated.

“Mattheo, I have a special task for you,” he announces finally, a large grin overtaking his face. “You should feel honored that such a role is being entrusted with you. Do you feel honored boy?”

“Of course.” Mattheo grits out.

In actuality however, he was growing nervous. He knew that Lorenzo had already been tasked with fixing a broken vanishing cabinet at Hogwarts. And Draco- well. Draco had been assigned a task as well. Both seemed impossible. It was only a matter of time before he was assigned a task himself.

The Dark Lord smiled menacingly at his son.

“We want a spy. Someone in Dumbledore’s little army to feed us information about his sacred chosen one.” He announces. Bellatrix lets out a cackle from beside him.

“Father, I’m not quite sure you’ve thought this through. I’m not exactly in the good graces of most of Hogwart’s population,” Mattheo responds, slightly annoyed.

His father’s face immediately turns to one of rage.

“Silence you impertinent child!” He bellows.

“You dare question your master?” Bellatrix screeches. “Let me punish him master. Let me practice on him like I did little Draco,” she begs.

Mattheo frowns at the woman in disgust.

“Silence Bellatrix. All in good time. But Mattheo you will not be the spy, no. I am no mere amateur to the games that Dumbledore will play. No, dear boy, your task is to lure in someone from Dumbledore’s order. Form an- attachment. Seduce them, do what you must and they will spill their secrets. Affection makes one weak Mattheo. Love might have prevented me from getting rid of their savior once. But it will not again. Love makes you weak, and they will learn.”

Mattheo looks at his father with disdain. A ridiculous task, he thought. And definitely something far better suited for Lorenzo who would have absolutely no trouble chatting up some witch. But that’s just the thing wasn’t it. The Dark Lord wanted to see them squirm. Struggle.

“Is that all father?” He asks, growing bored.

The Dark Lord considers the boy in front of him before waving his hand.

“Bring me the Berkshire boy. Bellatrix needs a new play thing.”

God I'm slow😫 idk why this was so hard to write but here we are🫠

tag list: @elsafromcabinsix

#slytherin boys #theodore nott #lorenzo berkshire #matteo riddle #slytherin #harry potter universe #enzo berkshire #draco malfoy #matteo riddle x reader #mattheo riddle fanfiction #mattheo riddle x y/n #mattheo riddle x reader #mattheo riddle

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swordcreature · 5 months

Text

Empty - Rolan x Tav Soulmate AU

hi hi hi! me and the wonderful, amazing @forgeofthenine decided to do a lil collab/prompt swap for the tiefling boys. it was so much fun to write and you definitely need to go see what prompt i gave her because oh boy i know it's gonna be cute. like scream into a pillow cute. thank you Bri for this collab idea i had so much fun and also totally didn't spend an entire work shift looking at pictures of Rolan's hands (because you know, inspiration).

my prompt was for Rolan + "Your soulmate's handprint is the first place they touch you"

(i'm totally going to edit formatting of this post later because it takes me forever to do so, so if you see it change, that's why lol)

Rolan could recall, with complete clarity, the first time someone touched the dark red handprint on his chest. He was barely a teen, not even old enough to truly understand the implication of a soulmate, when a classmate braced her hand over his heart. He remembered the way his chest tightened, how he couldn’t breathe as the taller tiefling laid her palm just slightly too left of the soulmark.

He didn’t need to look down to know it wasn’t a match. How many times had he pressed his own hand against his chest, trying to make his long, clawed fingers fit the much smaller handprint, so that he could burn the feeling into memory? Lia had said it was just fate, that the gods had someone better in store for him, but that didn’t lessen the sting – even if he wasn’t particularly fond of the girl.

He decided that romance was a fool's game, one that people like Rolan couldn’t afford to play. Or, at least, that’s what he told himself. He had a family to look after, siblings to provide for. What good would dwelling on silly fantasies of love do him? It certainly wouldn’t put food on the table or a roof over their heads.

In the back of his mind, though, in the privacy of his own thoughts, Rolan imagined what it would be like to meet the match to his soulmark. It was bittersweet, a torturous pain that he reveled in, teasing himself with pretty fantasies of who his mate may be. They always stayed fantasies, though.

But then Elturel fell into Avernus. And any hope Rolan had of ever finding his soulmate was ripped away, like the ground beneath his feet that gave way to the fiery pits of the Hells. He felt hollow, empty. Even as Elturel returned to the mortal plane, the feeling never went away.

⸻

When Tav first came into the grove, Rolan was drowning in the emptiness. It was easy to pretend it didn’t exist when the world was going to shit around them. And he had all but mastered the art of walling himself up so that any blows to his brittle heart didn’t send it careening into the abyss he felt inside.

Rolan found that he felt different around her, though. He first noticed it at the party, as he and the Elturian refugees celebrated Tav and her companion’s efforts against the goblins. The cavity in his chest seemed to shrink, if only by a little bit. But it was enough for Rolan to breathe, to take a breath he didn’t realize he so desperately needed. It made him nervous, the way she easily was able to slip through the defenses he painstakingly constructed and take hold in his mind.

For the first time since Avernus, Rolan let himself imagine what it would be like to feel her hand against his chest, slotting into place over the red mark.

⸻

These temporary highs never seemed to last long for Rolan. Amid the broken grounds of the shadow cursed lands, as Cal and Lia were ripped from his grasp, the cavern in his chest swelled. It loomed large and insidious, and Rolan felt as though if he closed his eyes hard enough, he could fall into it. He hated it, hated himself, hated feeling so utterly weak.

And when the emptiness threatened to swallow him whole, Tav was there.

She returned to Rolan what he thought was lost to him forever. If he weren’t a coward, he would have grabbed her right then and there. He would have pulled her to him and apologized for the venomous words he spit at her in anger, would have thanked her for all that she had done. He simply uttered a tiny 'thank you' and let her go on her way, trying to ignore the way his chest shifted as she left.

⸻

If Rolan were a third party, looking at his life from unaffected eyes, he perhaps would have laughed at the misfortune that plagued him at every step. It truly never seemed to end. Just as he got his footing, arriving at Baldur's Gate and securing a place for him and his siblings to stay, the rug was pulled out from under him.

At least this time, the pain he felt was physical and not deep within. At least he had bruised and marks to show for it. At least he could put a name to his tormentor: Lorroakan.

Although he did have to admit that after everything he had been through, working as the whipping boy for an egomaniacal wizard was something he could handle. Or at least see through to the end.

And Rolan fully intended to stick through his apprenticeship, to become a powerful and renowned wizard, to ensure his siblings were taken care of. He certainly didn’t expect Tav to throw herself into the mix, killing the master wizard before Rolan had even been there a tenday. Though, he probably should have expected it.

She always seemed to show up whenever he needed her most, even when he didn’t want her help. Especially when he didn’t want her help. If Rolan was religious, he may have thought her a form of divine intervention. But he hadn’t prayed since he was a child and calling her work an act of the gods seemed like an insult to Tav’s capabilities. She was Tav, nothing more and nothing less. A woman who somehow knew him and what he needed, without even knowing him.

Perhaps that’s why she appeared at Ramazith’s tower one day, dressed in her casual clothes, under the guise of checking in. Rolan had taken on the duties as master of Sorcerous Sundries, and though things were better than they had been in so very long, the emptiness still gnawed at his chest, just as vicious as ever.

She was just as glorious in her street clothes as she was in her armor, but something drew Rolan’s eye to her hand, a part of her he had never seen uncovered before, always beneath a gauntlet of some sort. On it was a pink blotch that extended over her wrist, twisting around her arm like a snake. As they caught up, he found his eyes drifting back to her hand, tracing the outline of it again and again, trying to discern its secrets.

As Tav stood to leave, it clicked.

With one long stride, Rolan closed the distance between them, grabbing her wrist over where the soft pink shape marred her skin. His pull may have been just a tad too rough, causing her to stumble forward into him. She braced herself with a hand against his chest.

He didn’t need to look down to know it was a perfect match. And by the look on Tav’s face, she didn’t either. For a long moment they stared at one another, nothing but the sounds of quickened breath between them.

Then they were smiling and laughing and Rolan decided that if he didn’t kiss her right then and there that he may actually light the whole damned tower on fire. As he clumsily pressed his lips to hers, he couldn’t feel a lick of space in his chest. Just the fullness of his racing heart.

#bg3 #bg3 rolan #rolan #rolan x tav #my writing #forgeofthenine #soulmate au

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forksianbeaute · 6 months

Text

Bleed Me Dry | C. Cullen | Prologue

𝚈𝚎𝚝 𝚊𝚗𝚘𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛 𝚜𝚝𝚘𝚛𝚢 𝚊𝚋𝚘𝚞𝚝 𝚑𝚘𝚠 𝚊 𝚛𝚎𝚜𝚒𝚍𝚎𝚗𝚝 𝚏𝚎𝚕𝚕 𝚒𝚗 𝚕𝚘𝚟𝚎 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚊𝚗 𝚊𝚝𝚝𝚎𝚗𝚍𝚒𝚗𝚐.

Warnings: This entire story is intended to be read by those who are at least eighteen years old. This chapter itself doesn’t contain any mature content, but I will block all ageless and underage blogs who interact with this post.

It’s still early — too fucking early. The sun has not risen above the horizon just yet, though from what you have been told, you figure that it wouldn’t really make the scene look any different even if it had, since there’s a thick, dark curtain of clouds veiling the skies of Forks more often than not.

Glancing outside, you take a brief moment to appreciate the beauty of the picture that opens right behind that steamy, clearly never-washed window of the Forks Hospital’s break room. It’s something you’re not used to viewing as beautiful, but now — looking at the endless sea of dark green and gloom, and seeing how both of those elements tie the picture together whilst somehow only adding to one another’s beauty —, you’re beginning to think you’ve never seen anything as beautiful in your life.

“I would like for all of you to meet the newest addition to the team.”

It’s one of the board directors — one of those four people, who actually have a say in what goes on inside the walls of Forks Hospital these days —, who introduces you to the entire staff.

You’re not quite sure what kind of a welcome it was that you were expecting to be greeted with upon arriving, but it surely wasn’t anything like this.

A couple dozen pairs of tired, still half-closed eyes staring back at you. Unimpressed, perhaps even a little bored expressions carved onto the features of what seems that is literally every single person present. Coffee cups in the hands of most — the smoky aroma of that freshly brewed, nearly black liquid that is supposed to knock some life into the employees of this hospital now lingering in the air.

Forcing an awkward smile onto those cherry-red painted lips of yours, you say, “Hi.”

It’s not that you’re shy, or not-that-good with people, because really you’re not either of those things — you’re quite the opposite, actually —, but something about seeing those nonchalant, ‘Can we go now?’ looks on the faces of your new colleagues seems to shove every single thing you thought you could say to them down your throat — making sure that this situation is way more awkward than what it needs to be.

The board director, Samuel White, gives his throat a rather loud clear, making it evident to everyone present that he doesn’t approve of this being the kind of a welcome new employees are greeted with here, at Forks Hospital.

Noticing that his efforts don’t really make a difference — noticing that not a singular person straightens their spine, or even tries to fix the look on their face —, he sighs, the audible exhale loud enough to be heard over the steady humming of the air conditioning unit that you’re sure runs on full speed all day and all night, just to be able to keep the humidity of this rainy city outside the hospital’s walls.

“Anyway…,” he then says, bringing his hand up to scratch the back of his neck. “She’ll be with us until the end of her residency. She’s a damn good doctor and surely a great addition to the team, so… Be nice.”

It almost feels as if you were eleven years old again. Standing in front of the classroom, with a backpack full of heavy books resting on your shoulder. An awkward smile tugging the corners of your mouth upwards, while waving at your new classmates — something that the teacher insisted you do.

Come to think of it, the situation which you’re in now isn’t that much different, actually. Only now you’re standing in front of a hospital’s break room instead of a classroom. Only now the room is brimming with highly educated adults instead of kids whose parents have spoiled them rotten — who they either don’t seem to give a flying fuck that you’re here.

Though it is something you don’t notice, at one of those flimsy-looking, white cafeteria tables that someone with poor taste has decided to decorate the break room with, sits Dr. Carlisle Cullen. There is no coffee cup in his hand like there is in the hands of many others, but instead a few patient files sitting in a nice and neat pile before him, patiently waiting for him to start his day by going through them.

With both of his elbows resting on top of that god-awful table, and with one hand’s fingers curled into a loose fist that is now positioned right before his nose and mouth, he sits still — not really having it in himself to do anything else because God, that’s how good you smell. And though every single person in this room kind of does smell good to him, this is different. You are different.

He has been around for a while. He has treated more patients with open wounds than he cares to count, and thus has become very familiar with the scent of fresh blood and the iron-like tang there is to it that tickles his nostrils each time he allows air to flow into his lungs at work.

Yet still, right here and now — with the air conditioning unit circling the air that to him now smells like a mixture of fresh coffee, you and the scent of that sweet, floral perfume of yours —, he feels the need to excuse himself.

God, it’s going to be a hell of a long next few years.

#carlisle cullen x reader #carlisle cullen x you #carlisle cullen imagine #carlisle cullen fic #carlisle cullen fanfic #carlisle cullen fanfiction #carlisle x reader #carlisle x you #carlisle cullen #twilight imagine #twilight fanfiction #twilight fanfic #the twilight saga #x reader #my writings

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heartfullofleeches · 1 year

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Scavenger

Reluctant monster darling my love..... (concept/potential series - warnings for mentions of suicide, death and cannibalism)

The monster who never wanted to be....

You thought you'd die the night they grew in. Serrated, needle-point fangs sprouting behind the rows of canines and incisors all your years. You knew this day was coming - someday, but decades of preparation couldn't cushion you from what was to come. The jaw-splitting of each individual tooth tearing through your gums and the floor of your mouth, slowly losing the ability to eat most foods day by day. The cravings.

Your own blood worked for a while. About a month at best. The more you tore open the healing wounds on your arms and legs the deeper and thicker your blood began. Like copper molasses. After that, you didn't know what to do. You couldn't take another humans life - even if you were never one to begin with. You broke into hospitals, blood banks, freshly graves. Your stomach howled at the scraps and rotting flesh you forced into it. With those teeth; those claws, it was clear whatever you weren't designed to live on blood packs and dead meat. You need it fresh. Raw. Live prey. It's everywhere.

No. No!... People aren't food. They're your friends... People you see everyday. They deserve the right to live like you.... Just like you...

And then it happens.

Walking home alone, over a rarely crossed bridge - the smell hits you first. The undeniable stench of blood - the freshest you've ever smelled. Hunger stabs you so deep you check your stomach for wounds. You look everywhere. What's left of your human mind tells you to call the police and run. Someone's hurt. You'll hurt them more. The internal battle is fierce - come to find you had already lost from the beginning.

They were already dead. Dragged onto shore by the lake's current. You had to pray they didn't suffer. You had to pray they'd forgive you for what you'd do. You were starving. It was the only way. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. You repeat - but there's no one to listen. No one to witness as you lick their bones clean and bury them in hollow grave. You found no identification on them. Only a letter. You lost the meal that would've keep you full for days as you read it.

You visit that bridge everyday. The sight of the disturbed soil makes you nauseous at first, then you're numb. They were gone, you're still here. That doesn't make it right, but.... but.. It happens again.

There at the shore, a body. Another letter, this time tucked into a wallet. You... Knew this person. Not well, an old classmate or coworker you never spoke to, but you knew. What happened to them since you last saw them. You.. do what you have to - conscious enough to take their meat back home, but after storing it away, you look them up online. Everything seemed fine on the surface - til their water logged phone powers back on.

An alternate account, pleading for help on days they posted pictures with sunny smiles to their main. Questioning their place in life, begging for something anything to make it all worth it. Their pleas went unheard. Every single one, until you found them. How long had they been in pain?

You find accounts on forums for people like them. People with nothing left to live for and waiting for that final push. Easy targets for something like you. You'd never go hungry again - so you reach out... to help.

You know first hand what it's like to suffer. You don't want to see anyone else in pain. You saw a family member of that old acquaintance one day. The grief in their eyes crushed you more than the pains of hunger ever could. You'll atone for your sin of living on by helping whoever you can. When you can't - you'll go out to search for your next meal.

Eventually you began to notice the signs of people down on their luck in your day to day. You tried not to look at others to avoid your hunger flaring, but it's so hard to ignore. You befriend these people. Ease your way into improving their outlook on life, and getting the help you can't provide. People gravitate towards you for your kindness. You see it an expression of your guilt. You try to slip out of their lives just as you came, but some of them just can't let you go. You're an angel. A saint. They want to give back to you what you've given them. They see that same sadness they once had in your eyes and want to do whatever it take all alway. They reach and reach, but you only drift away. They search for all they can find out about you - and one of them finds it.

A journal, hidden beneath your bed. Mere snippets of the live long torment you've endured. They didn't want to invade your privacy, but you left them no choice - and now they see why. Reading your crimes, the reasons you held out your hand to them - it brings them to tears. They truly had met an angel. An angel that needed their help as much as they once needed theirs.

A new neighbor moves. Amongst all the pleasant greetings from everyone else in your complex, they visit you of all people first. They bring a big slice out of a casserole they had just made. You politely decline, but they insist. You take a bite. It's good. Really good. Good enough for you to swallow. You can eat this. All the spices and seasonings, you can taste them. Your stomach feels so warm and full from the first bite alone. You're completely stuffed by the time you finish. Licking the plate, you freeze! You..... can eat this.... Why can you eat this? What's going on?

Then you notice the bandages around their arm.

"Hey, Y/n... Did you know the taste of beef is really overpowering? I made beef and pork meatballs the other day, but all I could taste was cow.... Is it the same for you?"

#yandere oc #yandere imagines #yandere x reader #yandere headcanons #yandere scenarios #yandere x you #yandere text #yandere blurb #yandere insert #yandere concept #yandere x y/n #monster reader #yandere #tw yandere

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neo404 · 2 months

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Jealousy.

Summary: you are out with Nick (your bf), Matt and Chris because Nick asked you to hang out with them before recording a video and to sleepover after they finish recording. While you wait for them to record in the parking lot you hang out in the outside tables of one of the restaurants while snacking until an old friend sits next to you and starts talking/flirting to you. Nick gets jealous. That’s all.

Warning: cursing, pet names? (love and honey)

‘’I think we’ll take 50 minutes to 1 hour; I don’t want you to get bored or anything, maybe you should have stayed at our house.’’ Nick is grabbing my hand, standing outside some restaurant that I don’t know, from the target that its besides Matt and Chris come out with cans of soda, bags of chips and some funny hats in hand. I laugh and squeeze Nick’s hand a bit.

‘’It’s all right, I’ll wait for you here. Plus, I have to eat, I’ll be fine, don’t worry it’s just a few minutes.’’ I give him a kiss on the cheek as Chris and Matt stop walking when they are standing besides us.

‘’All right, time to record.’’ Matt says.

‘’It will be just a few minutes Nick, you won’t die for being 5 minutes away from you boyfriend.’’ Chris smiles and pokes Nicks arm. Nick slaps his hand and tells him to shut up.

‘’I’ll be back as soon as we finish and we can buy a few snacks and maybe a plushie on target for our sleepover, and you can think on what movie or series you want to watch.’’ He gives me a quick kiss on the lips and starts walking to the van with his brothers while waving at me.

I sit down at the tables that are outside the restaurant and star eating from the french fries I ordered, as I take a picture of the fries and my drink besides it to post it later someone walks out of the target with a bag and walks straight to me.

‘’Hello.’’ he says and I look up from my phone to see my friend from high school Max who I haven’t seen in a few years.

‘’Oh god, hi. How are you? How have you been?’’ I smile at him as he sits besides me.

‘’All good, I got into the university I wanted, I got a part time job. Everything is amazing, how about you?’’

‘’That’s awesome. I am doing good too, life has been really fun lately.’’ I smile.

We talked a lot, about music and the movies we have watched, when we were classmates, our goals, crazy things that have happened. We just talked and laughed a lot, after all it’s been a while since we have seen each other. He says something about our teacher and as we laugh, he puts his hand in my arm and leans in as he laughs.

‘’Who are you?’’ Nick is standing in front of us whit a frown and scanning the situation. ‘’do you know him?’’

‘’Yeah, he is Max, an old friend from school’’ Nick looks at him up and down as I the both of us stand up.

‘’Yeah, nice to meet you. Who are you?’’ Nick raises a brown at this question and crosses his arms.

‘’I’m his boyfriend.’’ Max smirks and looks up at Nick since he’s taller a few inches.

‘’Nice to meet you, Nick.’’ Max turns around and gives me a quick hug. ‘’Good bye, have a nice night. And dm me so we can go out again.’’

‘’All right, good bye.’’ I wave at him as he walks away. ‘’How was the recording?’’ I smile at Nick and put my hand in his shoulder. He is still frowning and his arms are still crossed.

‘’Fine.’’ He walks to the target and I follow him closely. I tried to make talk with him and grab his hand or arm but he gave me short answers or told me he needed to carry the bags.

We walk to the van, sit at the back and Nick puts his earpods on. I look at Matt and Chris from the mirror, and I ask them quietly if something happened and they said no. I’m on my phone the rest of the ride home and when we arrive Nick rushes to his room.

‘’Is he okay?’’ Chris asks me and I shrug my shoulders.

‘’I don’t know, I’ll talk to him.’’ I smile warmly at him and say good night to Matt and Chris. I walk to Nick’s room and knock on his door twice.

‘’Come in.’’ I open the door and see Nick sitting on the bed already wearing more comfortable clothes and scrolling in his phone. I close the door behind me and sit beside me.

‘’Nick, honey. Is everything okay?’’ he lets out a sigh and puts his phone in the night table.

‘’No. I mean, you didn’t told him you have a boyfriend? You didn’t told him I was you boyfriend’’

‘’Who? Max?’’ he crosses his arms and nod. ‘’Is this about him?’’

‘’Yes, its about him flirting with you and telling you to dm him in front of me.’’

‘’No, he wasn’t.’’ Nick rolls his eyes.

‘’Yes, he was. He didn’t knew you were taken an was flirting whit you, when he saw me and I said I was you boyfriend he looked at me weirdly.’’

‘’I didn’t realize.’’

‘’Its whatever.’’

‘’Why are you so upset?’’ He sits up and looks at his hands.

‘’I’m just scared, I don’t know, sometimes I get insecure. Maybe I got jealous. He was being flirty with you and I wasn’t there, you didn’t told him you have a boyfriend and I overthought it, like you didn’t want him to know.’’

‘’No, no, never. Don’t say that. Nick, I love you’’ I grab his face with my hands and stroke his cheek with my thumb. ‘’It didn’t come up; I was so exited to see an old friend. I’m so sorry, I really didn’t mean to. You are the only guy I want to be with.’’

Nick’s eyes get a bit watery and his arms wrap around me, hugging me tightly. I stroke his hair and whisper sweet nothings into his ear.

‘’I get to pick the movie.’’ He says against my neck.

‘’All right, love. We will do whatever you want to.’’ I kiss his head and he push me playfully.

‘’Go change clothes first, or you’ll fall asleep and tomorrow complain about how you didn’t sleep well’’ he smiles and I throw a pillow at him.

‘’Okay I will. Don’t miss me too much.’’ I say as I walk to the bathroom.

‘’I will, you know it.’’ He winks at me and I close the door behind me.

#nick sturniolo x male reader #nick sturniolo x you #nick sturniolo x reader #sturniolo triplets x reader

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ultimate-chickennougat · 16 days

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| Your Salaryman Husband | (Vol 8)

Vol 1 Vol 2 Vol 3 Vol 4 Vol 5 Vol 6 Vol 7 (Not Required) Vol 9

Salaryman!Kento x Housewife!Reader

You see your husband in his glasses for the first time...

Word Count: 1.3k

CW: SFW, domestic fluff, fem!Reader, reader wears a dress, Gojo is mentioned (a lot).

A/n: I haven't posted a new volume in weeks, my sincerest apologies! This one was a bit rushed, but I'll be back with regular installments.

Due to the nature of being a sorcerer, Nanami didn’t have many photos of his time at Jujutsu High. Most of the few that had been taken were stuffed into dusty boxes in storage rooms, that none of his former classmates and colleagues wanted to touch.

That pattern continued into adulthood. His hatred of his work as a salaryman (a job he eventually came back to), and as a sorcerer, caused him to not appreciate having documentation of those moments. Other than from the unannounced snap of a camera from Gojo, or on a particularly important occasion, his face was rarely captured before he met you.

His stance on the matter didn’t change, but instead there were plenty of memories he wanted to have preserved. In fact he bought a camera just to bring on outings with you, taking pictures of the two of you together and the beautiful scenery of the parks and forests you visited.

He quickly returned to his former job after meeting you, but during that short period in which he was a sorcerer, he made sure to take pictures of himself whenever he went to any place that was interesting and to let you know that he was safe while he was there.

Without the intent of actively pursuing high grade curses, Nanami made many other lifestyle changes, including retiring his glasses. He still stumbled upon lower ones from time to time, but the absence of his glasses had no effect on exorcising them. At the beginning, he kept them tucked in his pocket just in case he might need them, but eventually they slipped into a box of old memorabilia and got stuffed into the bottom of his closet.

Despite your rigorous cleaning routine, it was still by chance that you stumbled upon that box. Nanami always kept his closet neat and organized, and there was never anything wrong with it every morning when you picked out his tie for him. Instead it was Nanami who asked you to take some of them out and place them on the table, as Gojo was going to pick up some pictures to show his students.

You pulled out the white file boxes, all uniform with the labels “Jujutsu High” on them. Each was brought to the living room and placed on the table, waiting for whenever Gojo was going to come by.

A whole hour passed before you touched the boxes again. In that time you had made some tea and started on dinner, before curling up on the couch to finish your embroidery. But, Gojo hadn’t given a time and was notorious for being late. He was a busy man, after all, so there was no reason not to try and help him out a little.

Instead of sifting through old boxes, you figured if you could grab the pictures and place them in a neat stack, it would save him some time (and your husband some stress from having Gojo go through his things).

As you could expect with your husband, the insides of the boxes weren’t dusty at all. Other than a few marks on the sides, probably from moving things around, everything was perfectly in order. Along with that, all the photos were preserved in sleeves inside a book that you easily removed.

Flipping through the pages, you couldn’t help but let out a giggle at the sight of Nanami’s old birthday photo with his classmates at Jujutsu High. You recognized Ieiri, who was your doctor as per Nanami’s recommendation, and Gojo of course, though the others were unfamiliar to you.

For you it was also a trip down memory lane, seeing as some of the photos you had only glimpsed at in the past, and you remembered all the stories Nanami had told you about his time as a student and a sorcerer. You placed the book firmly in the middle of the table, about to close the lid as the clock hit 5:30 P.M, when Nanami got home.

Just a few minutes later he was walking up the steps and into the house, being greeted by you just like every day. To him, it was the perfect way to come home. It had already been a few months since your marriage, and he couldn’t imagine getting bored of it decades away, let alone any time soon.

Nanami held you in his arms, that were sore and tired from a long day of typing and flipping through papers at the office without much time to stretch. You could hear his heartbeat soften while he relaxed.

“Welcome home, darling,” you smiled, trying to help him feel at ease. Of course, your presence was more than enough to do just that. “I’m glad to be home,” he mumbled, lowering his shoulders and letting you go freely. “Has Gojo come by yet?” you shook your head, to which he nodded. “Knowing him he’ll show up in the middle of the night,” Nanami groaned, rubbing his forehead.

“I put the photobook on the table, is that what he wanted?” you asked. “Yes, thank you,” he joined you, where you were flipping through it. “I remember when you told me about this,” you showed him the picture of a birthday cake, baked just for him by Gojo. “I didn’t realized Gojo was the one who made it,” he could see the honest surprise on your face. “Hmm… I must have left that part out…” he frowned, recalling how embarrassing it was at the time, though it was a fond memory. Nanami pulled one of the unopened boxes towards him, taking the lid off as you continued looking through the photos.

Nanami paused when he saw the glasses. It had been a while, but they were still familiar to him. So much so that he popped them right on, his eyes quickly adjusting to the new shade. “Kento?” you tilted you head at the sight, while he turned to look at you. “Yes, my love?” he pulled them off his face so you could see him properly. “Are those old? I never knew you wore glasses,” you pointed to them in his hand. “They’re for Jujutsu sorcery, to watch curses,” he brought them to his face.

“Ah, I see,” you hummed when he put them back on. “What do you think?” he asked, smirking as he saw you examine him. Your hands started fidgeting with the ribbon of your dress, as you stared right into his eyes though you couldn’t see them. “You look very handsome, darling,” you stated meekly. That was a true statement, but there was still something you felt was off.

“I can’t see your eyes,” you continued, “Unless you’re really close, that is.” Nanami stepped a bit forward, lightly biting the inside of his lip. “And would you like to, my cute wife?” he asked, fully intending to have you blushing at his words. He bent forward, the lenses hitting the light at an angle so you could see through the dark glass. He was staring just as intently as you.

Nanami let his hand cup your jaw to keep eye contact, as an unfortunate knock on the door from Gojo came at the wrong time. “What’s a few more minutes, hmm?” he let out a chuckle, ignoring the sound. “Answer my question,” he directed you. “Yes,” you nodded quietly.

Nanami pulled off the glasses and tucked them back into the box, shutting the lid. “I agree they are quite cumbersome,” he let you go to the door. “You actually told me you liked my eyes on our first date, I would be surprised if you preferred them,” he smiled at you, letting out a sigh as the banging continued. “I enjoy looking at your eyes as well, just please don’t mention it to Gojo.”

#nanami x reader #jjk #Jujutsu Kaisen #jujutsu kaisen x you #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk x you #jjk x reader #jjk x y/n #nanami x you #kento nanami x reader #nanami kento x reader #kento x reader #nanami kento x you #nanami kento #jjk nanami #kento nanami #kento #nanami

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bbobpul · 8 months

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break my heart again 2 — njm

PAIRING. na jaemin x reader SUMMARY.how's jaemin gonna give back for all of y/n's efforts now that he finally can? it's been years—just how much has everything changed? GENRE. angst, fluff, she fell first 🤭 W/C. 3.5k NOTE. hello, part two is here! so sorry i couldn't make a taglist. i didn't have time to make one. nevertheless, i hope this fic make its way back to you. love u all and thankies sm !!!! also, my requests are open !!!

(⁠☉⁠｡⁠☉⁠)⁠!⁠→ my other works !!!!!! part one here!!

i find it hard to picture myself ever being as dedicated to something or someone again, just like how i dedicated my entire college life to na jaemin.

lately, i've been feeling like i forgot what it's like to actually have a dream. back then, na jaemin was my dream, he was my driving force. i would force myself to wake up so early in the morning just so i could see him (or his car) enter the gates of the university. i would go to school even though i am sick and feel a lot better when i get home because i saw na jaemin. but now two years after graduating, i still haven't found a decent job that i actually enjoy.

it's a common experience that many people go through, and i suppose i shouldn't complain about it. maybe i need to put in more effort and push myself harder. part of me wonders if having na jaemin back in my life would rekindle that same sense of dedication that i once had. but as i say these thoughts out loud, they sound absurd, even to myself. why would i wish for my first love to return just so i could find a decent job? why would i long for na jaemin to come back merely to feel that spark in my life again? it's puzzling why i'm even dwelling on thoughts of him and wondering if he holds the key to my happiness and success.

oh, to dream.

oh, for that old dedication to still burn within you.

if only you hadn't acted so dumb that day. could life have taken a different path? are you even happy now? if you hadn't let fear hold you back back then, if you'd actually been brave enough to listen and follow through, would you be happier today?

but no matter how much you keep bothering yourself with that memory, if people come up to you and ask if you feel bad about everything that happened that day, you'd say no. you don't feel bad at all.

deciding to let him go was one of the best things you did. he seemed happy when you left, and after that, you never heard anything about him. he's like a touchy subject in your group of friends, which can be tough sometimes since you share friends. but does it really matter now? him not being in your life probably means he's happier and more peaceful, right?

are you feeling peaceful? is being stuck in a 9-5 job that hardly brought you joy a happy situation? scratch that. did being in that job make you happy? clearly not, as you've just mustered the bravery to quit. and in doing so, you've never felt more joyful.

did you really make the right decision?

just as you were pondering your own question, your phone buzzed on the bedside table. you grabbed it and saw that the caller was renjun, your incredibly patient best friend.

"y/n," he said, his tone becoming unusually serious. "what's up?" you asked. "do you need money?" "yeah?" "here's the deal: our college is putting together a documentary film, and they've chosen your department. but guess what? your old classmates are bombarding me with messages because it looks like you're ignoring them all. frankly, i can't believe you even answered my call," he griped. "wait, hold on. what film? and why would they pick me? are they searching for someone with a post-college life so sad that it belongs in a documentary?" "well, you were practically a legend back in college, so… and apparently, the director specifically wants you, which leads to… well, another issue…" "what's the problem now?" "it's going to be directed by jaemin."

and just like that, you ended the call. but a few seconds later, renjun's call came in again.

"i'm not going to do it." "you stubborn brat." "why him?" "i have no idea!" "why is he even directing? wasn't he studying architecture or something?" "i don't know, y/n. i haven't heard a single thing about him since your graduation." "what do you mean?" "that's not important now, y/n. you're in need of money, right? seize the opportunity. do it for the cash." “so will you do it or will you do it?” “for the cash.”

...

"y/n, you've moved on, haven't you? what's done is done. i'm pretty sure jaemin has forgotten all about it. this chance is coming your way, so just accept it." "i guess i will."

you're drawn in by the idea of making some extra money and the possibility of catching the eye of potential agents or employers. right now, you're at a crossroads, thinking about how this documentary could be a stepping stone to more job opportunities down the line. this situation is different from what usually drives you – this time, it's not about others, it's about focusing on your own goals and aspirations.

you're deliberately avoiding dwelling on your past. just as renjun mentioned, you've moved beyond it. what's done is done. right now, your focus is firmly on the present and the potential that lies ahead in the future.

what's in the past is behind us, including whatever existed between jaemin and you.

from renjun

tomorrow at lunchtime, they'll be going over the schedules and discussing what to film. if you want, you can chat with the director now. his number is 0825 813 2000.

in response, you simply replied with a "okay."

the night before the lunch meeting, a jumble of emotions has you in its grip. the idea of reconnecting with jaemin, who used to be your best friend and is now someone distant, fills you with a sense of awkwardness. you tell yourself that this is about working together and the chance to grow professionally.

after taking a deep breath, you decide to shoot jaemin a text. your fingers hesitate as you type, and the uncertainty you're feeling seems to seep into your message. you finally press send, and your text reads, "hey, it's y/n. heard we're meeting tomorrow for the documentary. just wanted to check in before that."

in almost no time, your phone buzzes with a response: "hey y/n, good to hear from you. yeah, looking forward to our meeting. let's catch up and chat about the project."

the conversation is polite, but beneath the surface, there's an unspoken layer of complexity. you can feel the hesitation in your exchange, a silent recognition of the shared history that's now a distant memory. as you talk about the meeting and the documentary, the easy flow you once had is noticeably absent.

as the texts go back and forth, a sense of tension seems to hang in the air. it's as though the years of friendship you once had are casting a shadow over your conversation. the effortless connection you once shared now requires effort, and both of you can sense the change.

as the conversation wraps up with a simple "see you tomorrow," you're left with a mix of excitement and anxiety. the idea of seeing jaemin again, especially in a professional context, stirs up a range of emotions. this situation is a stark reminder of just how much things have changed – and maybe how some things can't go back to the way they were.

you believed the conversation had concluded, only for your phone to ring once more, bearing yet another message from him. as you read the words on the screen, "i missed you, y/n," a rush of emotions floods over you.

"what's going on with him?" you mutter to yourself, your eyebrows knitting together in confusion. your gaze remains fixed on the message for a moment, your attention drawn to the three blinking dots in the corner – a sign that he's in the process of typing a response. several more seconds tick by, the dots eventually vanishing, and in response, you shut your phone off. you make an attempt to settle into bed and get some rest, but truth be told, it's hard to claim you managed to sleep soundly that night. an undercurrent of thoughts and emotions keeps your mind restless.

the day of lunch lunch finally arrived. you sat across from jaemin, his words forming a distant hum as your thoughts remained clouded and preoccupied. the lingering impact of his recent message kept you in a state of unease, making it difficult to fully engage in the conversation he was leading.

then, something inside you snapped, and you found yourself abruptly interrupting him with a question that had been gnawing at you, "why me?"

he looked at you, his gaze steady, and his response was quick, "why not you?"

your frustration simmered as his words hit you. he was choosing to be cryptic, and it was only adding to your confusion. pushing past your exasperation, you pressed on, "listen, i know we didn't part on the best terms, but why come back now and act like everything's fine? i mean, sure, it's better than hostility, but why choose me? i'm the one who's no longer part of your life."

his expression remained neutral, void of any emotions as he replied, "that's not true."

you raised an eyebrow, challenging him to elaborate. "what's not true?"

"that you have nothing to do with my life, y/n," he stated firmly.

the weight of his words settled heavily between you two, the gravity of the situation growing more apparent. the lunch table had transformed into an arena for confronting unresolved issues.

you scoffed, unable to hold back your disbelief. "jaemin, i made one mistake, and now you're trying to imply that my actions shaped your entire life?"

his eyes held yours, unwavering. "y/n, it's not just about that one mistake. everything that followed, everything that shaped who i am today… it's all connected to you."

your mind reeled, trying to grasp the enormity of what he was suggesting. the complexities of your shared history seemed to crash over you, leaving you grappling with a whirlwind of emotions and a tangled web of unspoken feelings.

the weight of his words left you momentarily speechless, and in an attempt to shift away from the intensity, you sought to change the subject. "where are the other producers? why is it just you here?"

"y/n…" he began, his tone suggesting he wanted to continue the previous conversation.

however, you opted to sidestep the discussion entirely. you pretended as if the profound exchange hadn't just occurred. "i notice you're taking on the role of a director now. quite the career shift, huh?" you inquired, masking your internal turmoil with a casual demeanor. you acted as if there hadn't been a two-year gap in your connection, as though things between you were perfectly ordinary.

he met your gaze, a faint hint of something unreadable in his eyes. "i pursued another dream when i felt i'd lost the chance for my first one."

"your first dream… not architecture, then?" you prodded, curious about the direction he had taken.

he shook his head, a soft chuckle escaping him, leaving you puzzled yet again. "no, not architecture. well, i suppose that just wasn't meant for me back then, but maybe it is now."

the cryptic nature of his response only added to the layers of confusion and intrigue that surrounded him. there was something about the way he spoke that hinted at deeper currents beneath the surface, emotions and experiences that he hadn't fully revealed. you found yourself torn between the desire to push for answers and the instinct to allow him his privacy. the lunch meeting had transformed into a stage for untangling not just the complexities of the documentary but also the intricate web of emotions and history between you and jaemin.

leaving the restaurant, a whirlwind of unanswered questions dances in your mind. yet, for now, you choose to tuck those thoughts away, focusing instead on the looming filming date just a few days away – next saturday.

in the span of time between that lunch and the upcoming shoot, jaemin proves consistent in his attempts to bridge the gap between you two. he regularly reaches out, updating you about his day and proposing get-togethers, which you consistently decline.

the days pass, marked by a series of messages and missed opportunities. despite the undeniable tension, there's an undeniable persistence on jaemin's part, a determined effort to reconnect and reestablish a sense of familiarity. however, your apprehensions and the memories of your past dynamics hold you back, keeping you from embracing his overtures.

as the countdown to the filming day continues, you find yourself in a delicate dance – balancing the unresolved history between you and the prospects of the future. the lines between your personal and professional lives are blurred, and the documentary project becomes a backdrop against which the intricacies of your relationship with jaemin play out.

you find yourself constantly pondering what his intentions could be. his actions leave you wondering, and you can't help but question what he's aiming for. in your perspective, you're merely a negative aspect of his life – a streak of misfortune. you would have expected him to have learned from the past, but his determination remains unshakeable.

as you contemplate these thoughts, your phone lights up once more, bearing yet another message from him. his name on the screen triggers a whirlwind of emotions – a mixture of uncertainty, annoyance, and a hint of curiosity. opening the message, you brace yourself for whatever he might convey this time. the consistency in his attempts at communication only serves to deepen the intricate web of emotions you hold for him, leaving you caught between your shared history and the unpredictability of the present.

"the offer's still there, y/n. :)" "jaemin, let's be real. just because i'm on board with your documentary idea doesn't mean we're suddenly best buds again. a lot has changed." "i want to reconnect, though." "actually, scratch that. i want to get to know you all over again." "jaemin, i appreciate the effort, but let's keep things professional, okay?" “i’m sorry, y/n. goodnight.”

after your straightforward message, his responses ceased. a silence settled in, stretching on until saturday – the day you were set to see him again. the anticipation and uncertainty had been building, and now the moment was finally at hand.

you stepped into the studio and immediately noticed that you and jaemin were the only ones present. your confusion must have been evident on your face, prompting him to address the situation promptly.

"um, the team thought having fewer people in the room would create a more personal atmosphere," he began, his voice carrying a hint of unease. "and, well, they decided to keep me here, you know, being the director and all, and also because we have a history…"

his words trailed off, and there was a subtle vulnerability in his tone. it was as if he was acknowledging the intricacies of your past connection, while simultaneously recognizing the complexities it introduced into your current dynamic. the studio, usually a place of creativity and collaboration, had transformed into a space laden with the weight of your shared history.

"it's okay," you responded, your words carrying a touch of reassurance. as your reply registered, a faint smile tugged at the corners of his lips – a detail you couldn't help but notice. after all, it was that very smile that had ignited four years of your life, a smile that held memories and emotions you had both shared.

"um, i'll just ask you a few questions, and then you're free to go," he stated, his voice carrying a hint of nervousness that didn't escape your notice. this new facet of his demeanor felt unfamiliar to you, a departure from the confident jaemin you had known.

you found yourself disliking this uneasiness, and a thought occurred to you – maybe it was time to rekindle something within him. as he began asking you questions, you decided to respond in a way that would evoke a certain familiarity between you two. it was a subtle attempt to bridge the gap, to draw out the person you once knew.

you had believed that his silence was what you wanted. you had convinced yourself that distancing yourself from him would protect you from the past mistakes. but now, facing the reality of the situation, you realized that perhaps a certain selfishness was ingrained within you. maybe, just maybe, you yearned to erase the distance, to defy your own rationalizations.

in this moment, you found yourself yearning to rekindle what had been lost, to bring back a connection that once meant so much. the conflicting emotions within you painted a complex picture of your desires – a battle between self-preservation and the longing for something more.

however, as you locked eyes with him and saw the lack of any discernible emotion in his gaze, a haunting wave of fear resurfaced within you. in that moment, it was as if time rewound, taking you back to the day of your graduation when your heart and spirit had felt shattered. the memory of that painful experience rushed back, accompanied by the doubts and uncertainties that had plagued you.

if you were to truly confront your own feelings, you'd admit that what you witnessed that night had left you questioning your own worth. the events had stirred up doubts about whether you had ever been deserving of taking risks for, whether you had ever been someone worth fighting for.

"hey, good morning, y/n."

"morning, director."

"how's today treating you?"

"pretty good, thanks."

"hmm, and what's life been like after college?"

"…"

"take your time."

"at first, i felt okay. my friends were all getting closer to their dreams, and i was genuinely happy for them. especially…"

"especially who?"

"especially the person i left behind."

"…"

"i was content being happy for someone else. then another year went by, and i wasn't feeling so great anymore."

"do you really think they're happy?"

"hmm?"

"the person you left behind."

"yeah. and my other friends seem happy too. they've got jobs they love, they're with people they care about, and i only had… renjun *laughs* … but sometimes, i can't help but feel like i'm the one who got left behind, you know? even though i was the one who walked away."

"let's talk about your person."

"oh *laughs* he's not my person."

pausing for a moment, you glanced at jaemin behind the camera. the question lingered in your mind: what was he trying to do? his actions and intentions remained a puzzle.

his expression grew serious, his gaze fixed intently on you. it was as if he had something to convey, something he was holding back.

"the last time i actually saw him was in an instagram post. he was with some girl. it happened on my graduation day. i waited the whole day, hoping he'd appear in the midst of the crowd. when he didn't, i held onto the possibility of seeing him by the gates. but that didn't happen either. my last hope was maybe he'd send me a single message, but by the end of the day, nothing came. then i went on instagram and saw a photo – a warning, i guess. a warning that i should just stop hoping. that… happened a few weeks later, i think. or maybe it was just a few days after our argument, the one where he told me he couldn't love… yeah."

you met his gaze and once again, his face was serious. his eyes were furrowed and his mouth was slightly open. a few moments passed, and he let out a shaky breath. screw it, you thought, it's out there now and i don't care anymore.

your silent exchange was interrupted as he shifted the camera away. confusion clouded your thoughts as you watched him move. he turned back to you, his expression still serious, and then he grabbed a chair from the nearby table. he sat down with his back facing you.

the room felt charged with unspoken emotions, leaving you to question his intentions and actions. it was as if he was peeling away layers, searching for something beneath the surface.

"did you know that…" he began, his voice breaking the silence. "she was his sister?"

"i never told you about her, that's on me," he admitted with a chuckle. "that was her last day, y/n. so i decided to spend the entire day with her. i'm sorry."

you were taken aback. "i'm sorry–"

"it's okay, y/n."

"i know i left you with so many questions that night, but let me tell you… every effort you made, every cookie you baked, i cherished all of it. i loved you. i'm sorry if my actions made you doubt yourself."

another pause filled the air.

"i left when you left."

"you were my dream. architecture wasn't really my passion, you know? i was struggling a lot, but luckily, you were there with me. i decided to chase after what i truly loved when you left, because i realized if i wanted you back in my life, it should be when i'm at my best, right? i wasn't lying when i said i couldn't love. i didn't want to love you when i was broken. i wanted to be the best version of myself for you. i thought that if i wanted you to be with the best person, then that should be me. so i became that person, a director, and then i planned all of this." his eyes finally met yours.

"i was always looking at you."

tears welled up in your eyes, and he seemed to notice. he took a step towards you and enveloped you in his arms.

"i'm sorry for not holding onto you back then, baby. but i promise, i won't let go of you now," he whispered.

"i'm sorry for leaving, jaemin," you sobbed.

"shh, you did what you thought was right."

"do you want to have lunch with me now?" he asked.

a mixture of emotions flooded your heart, and with a nod, you replied, "yes, jaemin."

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kpopnstarwars · 6 months

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listen to me rant about predebut unwhitewashed ateez:

firstly, i apologise for this absolute shitpost, and i don't know where any of the photos are from so apologies if they're acc urs or smt.

secondly, i apologise for the fact none of this is in order because this originally started as predebut yungi and then descended into ot8 chaos.

thirdly, i apologise for the huge rambles about whitewashing and fine men.

lastly, i apologise because i have no clue how to change size of pictures in tumblr so some are massive and some are tiny (send help)

just look at this:

OK FIRSTLY LIKE MINGI'S ACNE?? i never thought i'd find acne attractive (like, i don't mind it, but my view on it has always been pretty neutral, it's just a thing that happens sometimes). erm like first of all thank you for debunking that stupid 'glass skin' thing because for the people who actually don't have glass skin it's such an expectation to live up to, and secondly you're fine as fuck. LIKE SHUT UP RN I WANT TO KISS HIM AUBAUVVFASIKYFSAA. and then there's that picture of him in the car which i can't find rn and he's like looking to the side and he highkey looks like keeho from p1h like um mingi u had no right to look that fine predebut like have you seen skz predebut they literally looked like infants?

everyone else under the cut

ok, onto exhibit b, yunho.

LOOK AT HIM. i actually don't know if this is predebut yunho because he looks damn good but the twitter post said so, so idk but like??? he was either 19 or sub 19 here like???? I DO NOT SEE 19 YEAR OLD MEN OUTSIDE ON THE STREET LOOKING AS FINE AS THIS. and if this picture isn't predebut well my arguement is still valid because the other pictures of him which i can't be bothered to add rn still look cute asf.

i love the predebut pictures of seonghwa because he's so unwhitewashed it's beautiful.

im pretty sure this is a picture of him from the third kq fellaz thingy, so that counts as predebut, but OMFG HIS SMILE??? AND HIS SKIN IS SO NICE AND LIKE UNWHITEWASHED?? LET MY BOY'S SKIN BREATHE OMFG-

here's predebut hongjoong:

LIKE????? HE'S SO CUTE I WANNA PUT HIM IN MY POCKET?? i know this post has disintegrated from me saying predebut ateez were fine to me just fawning over them being cute teenagers but like i would a hundred percent have fallen for them if they had been my classmates or anything so um yeah.

so onto yeosang:

like... the sass? the visuals? from day one? I SEE YOU BROTHER. also ignore how the pictures are getting like younger and younger ok finding predebut pictures is hard. oh yeah and did i mention whitewashing in this post like thank god the predebut pics aren't whitewashed.

ok now san:

LIKE EXCUSE ME???? I HAVE MANY WORDS TO SAY?? like umm he was a hundred percent a twig back then but like one look at his unwhitewashed face and i would have d i e d. he'd have been one of those guys i saw across the street and had to do a double take because he's highkey FINE. also it doesn't help that i acc know a guy who kind of looks like a mix of predebut san and predebut seonghwa who i highkey had a crush on last year but um tmi.

so onto wooyoung:

i acc had to look hard for a good picture where i wasn't about to start cracking up over his bowl cut so we're just gonna accept this one. as you can see he already had the 'i am a kpop idol with trendy shoes on' thing going on so his fate was already destined. also more appreciation for no whitewashing like THANK YOU THANK YOU AAAAAH. also another guy i'd probably have a crush on if they were in my class.

last but not least jongho:

i know there were many funnier pictures i could have put on but like um i just really love this photo bc he just looks so... jongho. erm and let me mention one more time that his skin is breathing!! he's not whitewashed!! what a man.

congrats if you made it to the end of this absolute batshit crazy post

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soranihimawari · 10 months

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I Missed You

Pairing: Oikawa x (gn!) reader

Word Count: tbd

Rating: Oikawa Tooru Fluff [otf]

Warnings: none// reader in timeskip becomes a doctor specializing in aging/older athletes and completing necessary check-ups before a match.

Note: I tried to not tie any gender-specific nouns when describing reader.

How I think OIkawa & reader hug each other after not seeing each other in a long time.

[23:45]

That’s the time stamp you receive on an old friend’s text. There are only three words which the message is comprised of. When you read them aloud to yourself in the comfort of your own home, you seem to repeat them like a mantra.

‘I miss you’

Simple hope draws from this in a way that can’t be described as you stare at your screen until you ultimately lock your phone. You close your eyes for a a few minutes when your brain decides to show you a highlight reel of the activities you used to do with the sender. Learning the rules of volleyball, joining in their team jogging paths, coming to scheduled matches, accompanying him to the nurse’s office when he landed on his feet wrong, etc. He was destined to be famous, just not here at home in Japan, no. Somewhere half a world away called out to him first. Argentina was distant, far, the most you’d ever be separated and even then, the times prior were literally at the start of up schooling lives.

Unfortunately, the last memory behind the closed eyes you see is a bittersweet one: the reality your friend, confidant, (and crush) hits you. You never did want to wind up fighting with him, but for once you’d want him to fight to stay here. With you. As his best friends remind you, you’d be holding him back from his true potential ever since he started practicing with the collegiate teams up the road from where you live—this was where the initial rift began to be drawn between you two.

During lunch one day, you visit his classroom, sitting next to him explaining (or rather complaining) the trouble you were having with a particular class and one of the assignments needed to be completed prior to a content exam.

“Do you ever shut up about schoolwork, yn?”

You pause, a disappointed look heavy on your brow as those within earshot suddenly fall quiet.

“I’m sorry not all of us have a righteous path carved in front of us, Tooru,” the tonality in your voice was one of annoyance. “Some of us have to work even harder to achieve our dreams other than hoping to skip town and follow in their idol’s footsteps.”

Ever since that brief conversation, you and one Oikawa Tooru, are now practically strangers come graduation day. You hear whispers via the third year rumor mill of his accomplishments and his ultimate defeat against both Shiratorizawa and Karasuno. Matches you weren’t there to show your support for, even if Iwazumi Hajime, the ace and vice captain, had invited you because, “it would be nice for him (oikawa) to see a familiar face in the crowd.”

Glancing back at Iwazumi’s moss green eyes and stoic countenance, “and if I recall, it would be nicer if I wasn’t there because it might distract him further. There are plenty of scouts heading to those matches. I’m sure he’d catch one of their eyes.”

“And if those scouts ask him to move to another country, are you really going to be ok with not saying your goodbyes when we graduate, yn?”

You aggravatedly sigh at him, muttering an annoyed, “Yes, Iwazumi-kun, even then.”

Many months later, post Oikawa's jog in the winter while watching the Karasuno v Inarizaki match, it is now springtime. You’re holding a bouquet of flowers from your parents who pose with you for pictures around the inner school gates of Aoba Josai’s campus. Your fellow classmates and club members surround you for more photos as well. This was going to be one of the final memories you have for your high school career. You were accepted into a university specializing in biomedical engineering with a strong focus on exercise science.

This was your dream, not necessarily the same path as Iwazumi’s to become an athletic trainer, no, however you had wanted to be a doctor whose focus would help restore and maintain older athlete’s bodies even post retirement. Helping those who had maybe one or two career setbacks was something which had captivated you the more you began to focus on the life sciences of your high school careers and with the help of those teachers, they had written for you a brilliant recommendations to boost your acceptance after passing the various university exams.

[13:43]

In your office nearly a decade later from high school graduation, sits your newest patient. He comes from Argentina, like your nurses tell you, but the rumor that he had come on a friend's recommendation is what actually piques your interest. Well, to be fair, two of your friends' personal recommendation are what causes you to raise your eyebrow. The nurse on duty that day takes his vitals as normal, asks him the routine questions before giving him the proper spiel of, "sit tight and the doctor will see you in a few minutes."

Oikawa Tooru has come home for several reasons. The only one on the top of his list is coming home for an exhibition match game he was invited to by the former captain of Nekoma and now representative of the JVA. However, when word reaches Iwazumi's camp in the national team's gym, he smirks, sending a text halfway across the world. Your name is thrown into the mix of doctors who are willing to examine older, closer to retirement age, athletes. Considering this was not how he had wanted to spend his second day back in his home country, Oikawa Tooru asks to book this appointment to get an all clear before playing the V-League exhibition match Kuroo talked him into attending.

You are reading over the file of the new patient outside of the room in the hallway. You scan over the various ticks he had made on the questionnaire along with your nurse who says that his young son looks up to Oikawa-san as a professional volleyball player.

"Repeat that one more time, Sato-san," you clear your throat when Sato-san repeats what he had said earlier.

"My son is as huge fan of Oikawa-san," he points to the name at the top of the document in your hand.

Right there, next to Sato-san, the nurse's pointer finger, is the kanji of the name of a person you thought about since your high school, university, and medical school graduation days. You clear your throat, thanking Sato for his time measuring the vitals of the next patient in the room you're about to enter.

"No prob doc," is all Sato says when he walks back to the nurse station leaving you to enter the examination room where an old flame sits.

You take a deep breath prior to knocking and entering. You open the door and you see OIkawa bent over on the examination bed, reading something on his phone. His hair is cropped shorter, his shoulders are a bit broader, his skin a bit tanner, and for lack of better words, his muscles quite filled out the rest of him. He's still humming a tune you're unfamiliar with until your shoes enters his field of vision.

"Hello Tooru," your voice causes him to freeze and immediately causes his eyes to avert away from his phone. "It's been a while."

Oikawa's coffee-colored eyes study your face and the recognition hits him like a truck. Although he is dressed in a sky blue buttoned blouse and dark jeans compared to your teal scrubs and white lab coat, he stands up, arms extended to crush you in a hug. His patient file falls to the floor when you hug him back.

You hear him for the first time since that argument long ago, voice wobbly and all, "I missed you."

#haikyuu x reader #oikawa x reader #an hq: timeskip story #soft sora hours: ft oikawa tooru #🌻— flying around collecting pollen—queue #sora scribbles 2023

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asterrrific · 9 months

Text

Sunsets and Class Rings

-Mingyu x Reader

-fluff fluff fluff (and some angst?)

-warnings up for some profanity

Scenario: Y/N just "graduated" from her short term for the last academic year in the university when she went to her daily routine of going to the beach at sunset to read her book. Studying to become a teacher is hard, but for her love of literature, she applied for a short term to pick up a few electives.

Mingyu on the other hand, like y/n, is finally on his last year in the academy as a Maritime student. In a few days, he'll be boarding a ship to fulfill his duties as a cadet before graduation. He came home before leaving the ground and living on the ocean aboard a boat for a year, when he saw y/n again for the 10th time this week.

This time, he had to courage do what he should have done years ago.

Y/N's pov

It's been years since the last time I saw Mingyu. We were in our senior year then... a few weeks after graduation. We stayed at school during summer, finilazing our thesis as a class, then after that, we went our separate ways for College.

Mingyu and I aren't THAT close during senior year, but we were friendly. We knew each other since 6th grade, since we both joined radio broadcasting contests back then. I was a scriptwriter and reporter while he was a DJ.

Funny because I used to have a crush on him during those days too. Then when we met again during highschool as classmates, I thought I saw a spark between us... a "could have been something." But I guess it was just me.

Could you blame me though? He gave me chocolates and a blue teddy bear for Valentine's. OUT OF NOWHERE.

He even gave me a golden retriever pup for my 18th. "My noona was friends with your hyung back in highschool and they told me to give you one of Lana's pups for your birthday." he explained. But when I went to thank his sister, she said she and my older brother had nothing to do with it and it was all Mingyu's decision.

But WE never happened.

I mustered the courage to ask him about us... about what exactly did WE have... but he said we were just friends. I would be lying if I say it didn't hurt... it did. Because I hoped for something...

Though amidst that, I'm grateful that even if we didn't end up the way I wanted to, we still ended up being good friends. At least we still had each other in our lives.

It's been so long, but sometimes, I find myself relapsing everytime his dad and sister posts pictures of them. He wasn't loud on social media, but his family sure is. That's how I still felt connected to his life somehow even if we barely talk on the phone.

That's why I was shocked shitless when he tapped me on the shoulder, called me by my surname like he used to, and gave me a hug while I was reading by the beach a few minutes ago.

"What the- Gyu? Mingyu!" I exclaimed in realization as I tried to give him a fistbump like old times. He quickly grabbed my hand though, spinned me towards him, and draped an arm around me. Only after that, he whispered.

"Hey love, long time no see, but right now, I need you to stay calm, alright? I'm gonna be stirring you away from your reading spot. From here on out, just follow me and try to act natural."

Now I'm SCARED shitless.

But I just did what I'm told, though my conscience was screaming at me at the realization that this man just called me LOVE.

"I told you I could've just picked you up. You didn't have to take a taxi here, love." He said, obnoxiously loud, for whatever reason, I could only wonder.

"I didn't wanna bother you. You said you were busy with some stuff. Besides, I'm perfectly fine being here first." I smiled at him while the braincells in my skull wrecked havoc in my overthinking mind.

He grinned at me, his eyes and nose crinkling together as he nuzzled my hair. I flinched, though praying he wouldn't notice for whatever stage he's trying to play right now.

"Hmm. No you're not," he whispered while still awfully, physically close to me that my heart hammered on my chest. "There are a bunch of guys a few meters behind you and they're DEFINITELY interested."

I leaned away from him as I looked him in the eyes. I was about to turn to the direction he mentioned but he pulled me to the sand, pretending to help gather my chair and other stuff.

"Y/N, I'm a guy, and I know what guys look like when they're interested at someone. And those guys look like trouble. They're drunk." he explained as he finished gathering all my stuff in his arms, leaving me with just my book.

"Let's go?" he asked cheerily, shifting my load to one arm and offering me his other arm to hold on to.

I linked my arm with his and dared to look behind me. Sure enough, the guys behind me were throwing daggers at Mingyu's back. He whipped around and grinned slyly at them, pulling me even closer to him.

It's been 3 years since we graduated highschool. We're seniors in our own colleges now, and somehow, dead butterflies started to flutter inside my ribcage again as I let myself be pulled away by Kim Mingyu.

---

Mingyu's pov

I was a nutless jerk for telling her we were just friends all those years ago, even if I know within my heart that I wanted to be more than that with her, even to this day.

My heart and mind has been restless ever since we all parted ways. But when I saw her at the beach today, like the past few days, it was like my whole being came back to life.

Her hair flowed with the wind, though it's shorter now than the last time I saw her. Her skin glowed golden as the setting sun kissed her.

Damn, I still like her lots.

Maybe that's why when I noticed the bunch of guys having drinks just a few meters behind her, my protective instinct kicked in.

I mustered all my courage and recalled all the extra self defense training I learned at the academy as I tried to confidently stroll towards her like I do it everyday.

I swear, she almost hit me with her damn book when I hugged her from behind. If she ever landed it on me, I wouldn't regret it.

She beamed in recognition when we locked eyes after that, and I soared up to cloud 9 when I heard her say the nickname she called me with.

"Gyu!" she screamed. Her voice harmonizing with the element that I'll soon be calling home.

I explained the situation to her and was currently looking for a new spot to take her to as a comfortable silence sat between us.

It's a relief that I decided to go out today before I get on the ship for my internship before graduation. If I didn't, I wouldn't have seen her again.

My senses triggered again when I recalled what the guys behind her looked like. Hungry dogs ready to pounce, just looking for a chance.

I remembered back in highschool when she was stuck with something similar. We were on a bus on the way home from school, when I noticed the guys behind her were taking pictures of her and whispering nasty shit about making a move.

When a passenger got down, I called her over to sit next to me. She was shaking so bad from the experience and fear that I let myself hold her. I even let myself pass my house so I could see her go home safe that day, then I waited for the next bus to go back the other way to go home.

That was the day I knew I was really inlove, but didn't want to admit it.

"Gyu, here looks nice." she suddenly says, pulling me from my thoughts. We reached a place on the beach where there's more people on either side, but at least this one's a safer crowd.

I helped her set up her picnic mat and chair, then stood awkwardly beside her after.

"Well sit down on the mat, you silly goose." She chuckeled. I gladly obliged.

"Thanks for saving my butt there." she started after a few moments of silence. Her book was back in her bag, and I realized she didn't want to read for a while anymore, but to talk.

I followed her gaze towards the open water. Hearing the waves made me feel calm and excited but now, also nervous.

Maybe I shouldn't have met y/n today. She could be the reason why I won't be able to board the ship in three days time.

"Nah, it's nothing. I gotchu always." I teased. She nudged me.

"It's been so long. How are you? Are you about to board soon?" She sighs as she curiously looked at me.

Of course, she'll ask that question.

"In three days. I came home last week to process a few documents and my passport. I'm going back to the city the day after tomorrow." I explain, letting my eyes wander towards the waves again.

My heart ached. It was like I'm anchored to her again but I couldn't bring myself to admit it out loud.

What if I tell her about my feelings now? Would it be too sudden? I don't want anything holding me back from my internship, especially if it's y/n... I wouldn't be able to handle it.

But would I be able to handle a confrontation if I confess out of the blue? After years of not seeing each other?

"Wow. Then, I'm glad you're still able to go out to distress." She smiled. Her smile warmed me more than the setting sun did, and still, I involuntarily shivered. I hope she didn't notice.

"Well... I've been coming here these past days every sunset..." I admitted.

"...and everyday, I lingered just a few steps behind you, afraid I'll scare you away." I wanted to admit.

It's true. I've been visiting the beach everyday since I got home. And I continued to ever since I saw her here with her book every sunset.

She chuckled and the sound tickled my heart like tiny bells.

"Dummy. You'll be seeing beautiful sunsets once you board that ship. Will you be doing domestic or international?"

"Sunsets on the ship won't matter as much because I won't be seeing you with it." I wondered to myself as I looked at her.

"International." I simply answered.

"Wow, look at you big shot. Bring me souvenirs?" She requested like it was the most normal thing in the world. Like we've been doing it forever.

Since meeting her again last week, though it was from afar, even if she didn't ask me today, I would've still sent her the postcards she loved to collect, and little trinkets and magnets for the desk she loved to decorate.

"Sure baby." I answered. Like it was the most normal thing for me to say.

She went silent after that, but there's no mistaking that angry blush on her cheeks so I grabbed that chance to tease her.

"Look at you, blushing like a cherry. Do you have a crush on me?" I bravely teased.

In my head, I wanted to punch myself. Even if it was years ago, she probably still held grudges when we confronted about what WE had...

She swatted at my hands as I tried to tickle her but I was no match for her.

Until her chair collapsed and she fell on top of me, wrestling me on the mat and rolling us into the sand.

Now I was no match for HER. I'm suddenly a gradeschool kid with a crush.

"Shit- I'm sorry. You okay?" I laughed as she did too. I was relieved when she found the situation funny.

Maybe I shouldn't have just brought the topic up.

"What if I tell you that I still like you though?" she suddenly said, still laughing.

The laughter died nervously on my throat.

"What...?"

She crawled on to my other side, away from my grasp, and she sat down on the sand, facing the waves.

"I'm afraid I never "unliked" you, Kim Mingyu." she admitted. Her voice suddenly blue.

I faced her then, even though her gaze wasn't on me.

"I-"

"Nah, it's fine. I'm glad we're still buddies after all this time though." she smiled, bravely facing me as she gave me a friendly punch to the shoulder.

I held her hand there.

"What if I tell you that I want to be more than just buddies?" I finally said.

I FINALLY said.

This time, it was her turn to be silent.

I pulled her hand toward me and gently caressed lazy circles at the back of her palm.

"Y/n, I don't have any valid excuse towards being a jerk all those years ago. But I liked you. I guess, I just didn't have it in me to say it out loud." I finally admitted.

"Please don't do this, Mingyu. Not when you're boarding soon." she said. Her voice scared.

"Oh, baby, no. I'm not saying this to play with you. I'm saying this to get it off my chest and so you'd have peace of mind." I tried.

"But Gyu, how would I have peace of mind now, knowing that it wasn't one sided? Knowing that after whatever this conversation right now is, you'll be boarding soon, and I wouldn't see you again for a year or two." she sputtered, tears threatening to fall from her hazel eyes.

God, I didn't want those tears to fall.

I wasn't able to answer her immediately and she had another question to challenge me.

"Mingyu, after all these years... do you happen to still like me then?" she bravely asked. Her voice almost a whisper among the sea breeze and crawling waves.

"Yes." I answered. How idiot of me to admit it just like that when she deserved something more grand.

Someone like her deserved something more than just an explanation and a lousy yes from a scaredy-cat like me.

She pulled her hand from me and angrily wiped the tears that finally fell from her eyes. I gently stopped her and dared to caress her cheek, chasing her tears myself.

"I'm sorry y/n..."

"Don't be." she said. It scared me because I didn't know how she meant it.

I held her like a fragile pearl. I didn't want to let her go.

"You don't have to be sorry, Gyu." she said after a few beats. Her hand finding its place on top of the one I have left cupping her cheek.

She felt my class ring on that hand. I never took it off after our ceremony.

"You don't have to be sorry. I won't force you into something you don't feel like doing."

"Oh please, y/n, don't say it like that."

"Like what?"

"Like you're not someone worth taking risks for." I firmly told her.

Gently, I forced myself to remove my hand on her cheek.

I removed my class ring.

The supposed symbol of loyalty to my fellow cadets, the academy, and the seven seas that I'll soon be able to see.

I played with it on my hands, tossing it and catching it.

"Y/n... we don't have to rush it. Will you give me a chance to set things right? As they should have been, three years ago?"

She looked at the ring in my palm, then at the sea.

"What are you doing, Mingyu?" she seriously asked, a hint of nervousness tinted her voice.

"Taking a fucking risk for someone who deserves the world and a man who's not a nutless jerk." I teased though my voice was hopeful.

She locked gazes with me, and after a solid minute, she gave me a tiny nod.

I felt a fire start in my chest.

"Y/n?"

"Will you let me wait for you?" she finally asked.

"Damn it y/n, someone like you doesn't deserve to wait." I nervously laughed.

She chuckled. "Well, you big dummy, apparently, our situation will require us to wait."

"Well... will you wait for me then?" I asked her, my voice obviously hopeful but I couldn't care anymore.

"I hoped for this to happen all those years ago, Gyu. And deep down, I still think of what could have happened if what I hoped for came true."

I held her hands, the ring sandwiched between our palms.

"Will you let me make it happen?" I asked.

"So suddenly?" she laughed.

I know it was stupid and true, but I nodded.

She looked down at our hands and grabbed the ring, sliding it back to where it's supposed to belong on my hand.

"Go out and explore the world, cadet. And come back to me." she finally said.

I feel like I fucking won a cruise of a lifetime.

I grinned like an idiot and removed my class ring. Then, I hastily removed the seaglass necklace I had on.

I slipped the ring on to the necklace, then showed it to her.

She smiled as if she knew what I was about to do even before I was deciding to do it.

I knelt on the sand and went behind her to secure the necklace on to her neck. I couldn't help but kiss the top of her head when she finally let down her hair after I've locked the necklace.

I sat back on the sand, facing her, as she admired the blue seaglass and the silver class ring on her neck.

Again, tears started falling from her eyes.

"Oh come on, y/n!" I teased as I pulled her towards me. She let me hug her to my chest as I rubbed her back when she finally sobbed into my shirt.

"It's so unfair though. All of this happens but we won't be seeing each other again for a year." she cries.

"I know, love. I'm sorry." I whispered in her hair.

"Again with the sorry, Gyu." she managed to laugh amidst her sniffles.

"I'm sorry I was scared. I'm sorry I was late." I whispered still, shutting my eyes as tears started to form on the corners of my own as I remembered how I regretted not doing this sooner when we could have had more time.

She must have sensed it, because tear stained as she is, she leaned away and cupped my face on her slender hands, and bravely faced me with determination all over her face.

"Don't be sorry. I already swore I'd wait for you." She said firmly. I took the necklace on my hands and caressed my class ring dangling from it, thinking about the cost of buying another one to replace it since we're not supposed to really remove it, especially since we're boarding soon.

"I'll wait for you like you waited for the time that you decided you're not scared anymore." She teased and I laughed, stray tears leaving my eyes.

Gently she wiped them away, then brought her forehead on top of mine, her nose grazing the tip of my own.

"God, I waited to be this close to you." she whispered with her eyes closed.

I closed my eyes and dared to kiss her nose.

She giggled and I took it as a good thing. My heart soared.

"I'll send you postcards at every dock we hop on." I promised her and she continued to giggle. I kissed her forehead.

"And I'll send you seven rings from the seven seas until I could finally ask you to be my girlfriend." I swore. I kissed her cheek.

"And after that, I'll come back to you. And after that, I'll court the rest of your family. Then I'll let another few years pass on another fucking ship then I'll come back and marry you here." I swore boldly, kissing her other cheek.

She slapped my chest playfully.

"Now, now, sailor. Don't get ahead of yourself." she laughed.

"Someone once told me that if you say your wishes to the sea, the waves will carry it out for you until they happen." I softly told her, as I guided her back to my chest.

"I wonder who that someone is. They sound wise." she teased, knowing it was her who said it when we were in highschool and she bought me the same seaglass necklace I had on and gave her with my ring. She got it for me during our class trip to Jeju.

"Oh, I trust that someone. I trust that her words ring true." I boasted, resting my head on hers.

She then looked up at me and smiled, and I felt like swimming into the ocean and challenging our class ship to a fucking race.

I leaned in to kiss her forehead again as if I've been doing it for years, even if I was only able to find the guts to do it a few minutes ago.

I'm glad she's letting me.

I lingered there for a bit, then rested my cheek on top of her head. I faced the sea with her, the waves calling me out of my daydream as I realized that I have to leave her after tomorrow.

I closee my eyes and forced myself to bask into this moment and memorize every second of it so I can survive at sea with memories of her.

Slowly, I felt her shift, and dumbly, I looked at her as I realized that she's taken a brave step by kissing me on the jaw.

I stared even more dumbly at her when she giggled.

"A good luck charm for the cadet. Since I can't kiss you here yet." she teased, as she tapped my lips with her finger.

God, she's a tease.

"I'll have to tattoo that on my jaw then, sweetheart." I teased her back, as she had the audacity to guffaw at my face.

With courage I never knew I had in me, I gently placed my thumb on her lips.

Then I kissed her there.

"A promise for my return. Since I can't kiss you here yet." I teased her back, as I gently swiped my thumb over her soft lips, her face cherry red from shock of what I just did.

"HOW DARE YOU." she exclaimed, swatting at my chest. This time, I guffawed in front of HER face.

Eventually, she got tired of hitting me. Eventually, she melted back into my arms and into my chest. Her body fitting comfortably snug against mine.

And then, silence enveloped us again as we watched the last of the sun sink into the horizon, knowing that tomorrow is our last day in another long while, but at the same time, a new chapter for the both of us to look forward to.

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A/N

Hi hiii!

Been a while since the last time I made a one-shot🥹 I was inspired by my visit to the beach today, and I saw a lot of groups enjoying the sea. Then Mingyu went live tonight too, so I thought of making him the character here.

I know it's pretty long, but if you reached this point, then thanks for staying by to finish it😭🩷🙏🏻 I enjoyed writing this so much, I hope you enjoyed reading it too!

As usual, thanks for your support!🙌🏻

Also, if you want to and if you can, please reblog this so other readers can also see my works🥹🙏🏻🩵

Thanks again, and Happy 3000 days, SEVENTEEN!

Lablab~

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