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ode2rin · 23 hours

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ANYONE BUT YOU .ೃ

pairing. michael kaiser x gn!reader

genre. college AU | older brother's bestfriend | fake dating (@/saekkas req!) | angry confession (anon req)

summary: as lines get blurred, hearts get flustered, and a scheme ensues, your brother's best friend suddenly seems way more interesting than he used to be.

💭 masterlist | next part

“I’m sorry, I don’t think I can go with you anymore.”

Your ears were ringing.

After the words hung over the line, a heavy silence descended, punctuated only by the dull thud of your heartbeat echoing in your ears. The phone line seemed to distort, and the world beyond reduced to a distant murmur as a disorienting ringing filled your ears. Yet, despite the shock rippling through, you managed to maintain a facade.

“Ah, I see. It’s no problem. See you around!” Your chirped voice made you cringe internally, but it was a better front than sounding like a defeated kid whose mom said no over a piece of candy at a grocery store.

Before he could say anything else, you clicked the end button faster than he could spew some tacky excuse. Throwing your phone to the side, you settled onto your bed, lying on your back, staring at the uninteresting ceiling of your room.

Sure, it was no problem at all— the music festival was just six hours away, and your date had just canceled on you over the phone. It’s no big deal facing your college blockmates without a companion as initially planned, and it’s totally not a problem that you will most likely be a third– hell, a seventh wheel, actually, and have them talk behind your back – speculating about why you're going alone or if you were just making it up that you had someone to bring.

Yes, it’s not a fucking problem at all.

You don’t even like the artist lineup, anyway (maybe you’re mildly interested with one band that’s attending). You wouldn’t bother if you weren’t just a sophomore still trying to find a group of friends you can call your own. It's embarrassing enough that freshmen even had it better than you. It’s not a race, for sure, but in college– the truth lies blatant that support systems help. A lesson you learned the hardest way.

“Y/N? Are you in there?” Three soft knocks on your door and a muffled voice, surely coming from your older brother, interrupted your pity party.

“Yes. Come in,” you confirmed. The door creaked open, revealing a mop of magenta hair leaning over your door frame.

“There’s food downstairs. We ordered your favorite.”

“We?”

“Kaiser is downstairs.”

Of course, he is.

Your brother’s best friend must have really taken it to heart when your mom told him he can treat your family as his own. Too deep into his heart, if you could comment. You see him around the house more than you see your parents, and if that wasn’t tiresome enough, he’s literally a damn superstar in your university. Every corner, every room, in halls and library, everyone can’t seem to be over his name like a broken record.

You wouldn’t be this annoyed, hostile even, if said man was just as nice as your brother. But instead, he was far by the most obnoxious, foul-mouthed, arrogant prick you’ve ever known. Alexis should have never kicked some ball with that conceited oaf a decade ago. Life would have been so much better. But no— reality is, the bane of your existence in the form of blonde hair and sharp blue eyes, is in your house’s kitchen, probably gulping down your favorite drinks in the fridge.

If you can’t seem to have friends, your older brother seems to be goddamn bad at picking his.

“Hey, dollface. Missed me?” Speak of the damn devil and he shall appear.

The first thing you’re met with after coming down is a sight of Michael Kaiser, sitting high and comfortably on one of the counter’s bar stools. Your gaze trails down to his hand where you see a peek of his crown tattoo— and would you look at that? He’s holding a can of your Coke Zero.

“Oh, so that’s why my life was going sideways again,” you feigned a sigh in disappointment, making sure it was loud enough for him to hear, “because you’re back.”

In your unwanted years of knowing this guy, you’ve soon realized that none of your words, no matter how sharp or snarky they get, would ever faze him. Evidence would be how he just openly chuckled at your remark. “Yeah, yeah, yeah. I missed you and your smart mouth, too. Don’t worry.”

“Trust me, worry is not in the list of emotions I would ever feel for you.”

“Well, does attraction make it to the list?”

Years ago, perhaps it would have. Not that he needs to know—no chance. Your silly childhood crush on him was your deepest, darkest mistake. You might be overdramatic, but this was Michael Kaiser, and god, you would rather get caught having feelings for anyone but him.

Rolling your eyes at him, you sneer, “You wish.”

“Oh, trust me, I do wish,” he mocks your tone.

“Fuck off.”

“That won’t get rid of me, I’m afraid,” he shrugs before winking at you. You shook your head in annoyance.

You took the seat across from him and settled. You were about to lean to reach the box of pizza at the other end of the countertop, when Kaiser reached for it first and placed it in front of you.

You turned to look at him, half expecting a smirk or yet another wink from the blonde, but instead, he was preoccupied browsing on his phone as if his body moved on its own to attend to you.

You shrugged off the weird occurrence and turned all attention to the pizza and its heavenly scent sipping through the gaps of its box, just in time for Alexis to take the seat next to his best friend. You drowned the noise of their conversation as they started talking about last away games.

Your brother and Kaiser had been the most valuable players of your university’s soccer team for as long as you’ve remembered. They were two years older, so by the time you entered university, they were already making big names in the field. Rumors had it that there were already offers lining up at their feet.

If you come to think of it, it wouldn’t be this hard making friends if you would just be vocal about being Alexis Ness’ younger sibling, but the limelight and pretentious popularity it came with was something you wouldn’t wish upon yourself. You wanted real and genuine friends, not people who wanted to be around you because it was a step closer to your brother and his best friend.

Like earlier, Alexis’ voice came reaching your eardrums, snapping you out of your thoughts. After hearing what he had to ask, though, you wished you had a way to physically block out his words.

“Are you not going to get ready for the festival?” your brother asked, meanwhile, his dear friend seemed to take great interest in what you’re about to say as both of them peered over you.

“Not going anymore,” you said, as nonchalant as you could to play pretend.

“Why? You’ve been looking forward to it the whole week.”

Heat crept into your ears and cheeks as embarrassment filled you. Sure, you might not be prancing around being all excited about it, but if your brother was able to notice it, your enthusiasm must have been evident then. God, you felt like an utter fool now.

“It got canceled,” you looked away from them.

Alexis looked at you with furrowed brows, “What do you mean? It’s not–”

“My date canceled on me. I’m not going anymore to save face and not make a fool out of myself. There, happy?” you snapped.

Before you could even feel the guilt from bursting out unprovoked to your brother, you swiftly got up from the stool heading back to your room, leaving the two of them in the kitchen looking concerned contrarily. One with worried eyes glancing at your room hesitantly, and the other one with a clenched jaw and narrowed eyes.

It seemed everyone was testing your patience today, as for the second time, your ears rang—not from a last-minute cancellation this time, but from the persistent sound of your ringing phone.

Your heavy eyes fluttered open, weighed down by the sleep from your ignoring-the-world nap after the exchange with your supposed date and your brother. Disoriented and groggy, you reached out, fingers fumbling to check the caller deserving of your unrelenting fury.

Kaiser, the screen read, and suddenly, the urge to throw your phone at the nearest wall almost overwhelmed your senses.

But you answered the call anyway, because logic says that he was still your brother’s closest, and sometimes, that warranted a call that might be about him.

“I swear to god this better be important–”

“Get ready,” he interrupted.

“What?”

“Look out your window.”

Groaning, you rose to your feet, moving your drapes aside to see what awaited outside.

Outside your house’s gates, a midnight blue sports car, all too familiar, was parked across the driveway. Its owner leaned lazily over its door, one hand in his pocket while the other held his phone pressed to his ear, looking right back at you with that shit-eating grin.

“What the hell are you on?” you muttered into the phone.

You instantly closed the drapes after meeting eyes with him.

It’s infuriating—He’s infuriating. But damn, does he look good when he smiles like that. And it’s not helping your case that he was clad in loose-fitting denim pants and a black shirt, sufficiently showcasing both his tattoo and his lean yet toned build.

It’s sorcery how he makes simple and ordinary clothing look like it was screaming high-end and luxury. Only he can do that, you admit.

“As I said, get ready,” he repeated over the phone, “We only have less than two hours before your music festival or something starts.”

He’s taking me to it? “Why?”

Only one word in response, yet the two of you understood what you’re pertaining to. Silence filled the line for a moment before you heard a subtle click of his tongue.

“Because you look ugly when you sulk,” and he hung up.

You should be irritated at him hanging up abruptly and calling you ugly, but for some reason you don’t know, it puts a smile on your face.

The first one today.

Kaiser wishes he had a bigger car— which one would deem ridiculous, given that his car could easily match the price of two or even three minivans.

But if it meant having you sit not so close that your scent infiltrates his senses beyond his sound judgment, he’d gladly trade his lambo for a minivan any day.

You were intoxicating— not akin to the grip of liquor, because it would be inadequate in comparison. But rather intoxicating in the same way as the irresistible magnetism that beckons a madman to its vices.

And he must be really mad because you weren’t even sitting shoulder-to-shoulder close to him. You’re sitting comfortably at the passenger seat, a good distance in between, and yet he acts like a raging teenager who got locked up with his crush in the utility room. It is absolutely embarrassing, even for someone like him.

“Did Alexis ask you to do this?” you suddenly inquired, your gaze fixed on your side of the car.

Thank heavens you broke the silence first, because who knows what ungodly phrases he would come up with in an attempt of small talk with you?

“No. Though I bet he would have taken you himself,” he snorted, of course your brother would, “If our coach weren’t so pissed at him these days.”

Ah, so that explained why you hadn't seen Alexis around the house before hopping into Kaiser's car.

Momentarily, you turned to him. It was so swift that he might have missed it if he wasn’t so hyper aware of your every move in this damn confined space. “Is he in trouble?” you inquired to the blonde, your voice concerned and hesitant.

“Nothing you have to worry about, doll.”

“Stop with the nicknames,” you hissed, attempting to intimidate.

Unfazed, he countered with a cheeky “Make me,” under his breath. His smirk practically audible, even without you glancing his way.

Silence overtook between the two of you once more. You fixated on the road ahead, noting the nearing destination as the glow of the festival stage lights peeked into view.

It’s your chance— your chance to release the words that have lingered at the edge of your tongue since he urged you to get ready almost an hour ago. You stole a glance at the man driving beside you. His eyes focused on the road, his left hand steady on the steering wheel while his timepiece-adorned hand rested comfortably on the gearshift. In another frame of mind, you might have found yourself lost in the rhythm of his long, slender fingers tapping against it. You snapped out of it before he could point it out.

You stole one last glance before turning away to whisper, “Thank you… Kaiser.”

Instead of saying welcome like a polite person would, your companion would of course, choose to say something as, “You owe me something now.”

Of course, you thought. Mentally rolling your eyes, you ask, resigning to his antics, “What do you want?”

“Call me by my name.”

“Did you not hear? I said, thank you Kai–”

“The one you used to call me.”

Mikka.

It was a silly nickname you gave him– back when Alexis first brought him home for snacks nearly ten years ago. He and Alexis were eleven, and you were barely nine.

You remembered the blonde kid, all sweaty in his mud-stained clothes, clutching a worn-out ball by his hip, his gaze fixed on you with curiosity. “This is Kaiser,” your brother introduced, but the blonde stranger approached you, extending his hand.

“I’m Michael.”

“That’s… long.”

“What?”

“Your name– it’s long,” you echoed, looking up at him, “can I call you ‘Mikka’?”

“What?” Kaiser’s deep voice sliced through your reminiscence. “You had no problem calling me that before,” he pointed out.

“That’s before you beat up the boy you knew I like,” you scoffed at him, a familiar pettiness clouding your mind.

He chuckled at your retort, seemingly lost in his own memories. “Beat him up on the soccer field, you mean,” he corrected, though he wouldn’t particularly mind if it were an actual fight.

“Same thing.”

“Oh, come on! It was highschool!”

“Your point?” you countered.

“He was a snotface, anyway.” he rationalized.

“He was nice to me!”

“I suggest you rather get a dog instead— if nice is all you need. I heard dogs are fun to be around,” he sneered, “What do you think of pomeranians?”

You brushed off his question, preferring the depths of silence over the hypothetical responsibility of tending to a pup that bore more than a passing resemblance to him, both in appearance and, perhaps, in demeanor.

“I knew agreeing to come here with you was a mistake,” you sighed, exasperation lacing your words.

Surprisingly, Kaiser offered no retort. Taking his silence as a cue for your own, you settled into quietness, hoping for a peaceful remainder of the drive. Minutes drifted by until Kaiser broke the stillness with a whisper loud enough for you to catch.

“He was a slimy jerk,” he began, pausing as if hinting his careful choice of words, “and he was nice to you because he was trying to get into your pants.”

“How did you know?” you asked, meek and shy, fumbling with your fingers in your lap. Seeking love advice and opinions from none other than the mighty Kaiser seemed absurd, but maybe, wisdom might sometimes fare well with age.

“Trust me when I say I know how boys can be,” he scoffed, a displeased furrow settling in his brows. “He wasn't the gentleman you thought he was.”

“And you? Are you a gentleman?”

Before you could stop your thoughts from escaping your rebellious mouth, the words spilled out like water through a breached dam. The lack of response from him compelled you to chew on your lip and fix your gaze on the road, refusing to spare even a glance his way, despite feeling his stare burning into the side of your face.

Meanwhile, Kaiser was aware he might be staring too long at your side for someone controlling a vehicle, but he couldn't help it. Not when you caught him off guard with a simple question, and especially not when you were trying so hard to avoid looking at him, your discomfort palpable in the air. You looked so cute—it made his mouth twitch.

Staring ahead at the road, he contemplated your question, needing no more than a minute to reach his conclusion.

When a man looks at his best friend's younger sibling in a way he shouldn’t, he’s not deserving of the title “gentleman.”

He was far from it, he concluded. With one last glance thrown your way before bringing the car to a full stop, he muttered in an uncharacteristically soft tone.

“Especially not one, doll.”

“Y/N! Over here!” a familiar voice cut through the cacophony, prompting you to scan the crowd until you finally spotted them.

Relief flooded over you at the sight of a familiar face amidst the crowd. Checking your phone had proven to be a wise decision; otherwise, you might have spent the night searching aimlessly through the vast expanse of the venue.

The venue stretched out before you was a kaleidoscope of sights and sounds that danced upon the senses. Laughter and chatter mingled with applause and the occasional roar of approval as performers graced the stage.

Everywhere you looked there was movement and so much life. Yet amidst the bustling crowd and pulsating music, one figure occupied your thoughts more than anything else.

Kaiser's towering 6-foot frame loomed behind you, his broad shoulders carving a path of confidence through the crowd. He stood behind you like an immovable rock amidst a rushing river. And if your senses weren't deceiving you, you swore you felt the occasional brush of his hand against the small of your back, gently guiding you forward.

He was so close behind you that his breath on your nape soaked into your skin like ointment— warm to the touch, yet icy on your spine.

“Where's your date?” one of your blockmates inquired after the initial pleasantries were exchanged.

The question lingered, and suddenly, all eyes were on you. Mentally counting heads, you realized you were really on track to be the seventh wheel if you attended without a companion. Speaking of companions— you turned behind you with the intention of introducing Kaiser (not that they didn’t know him already), but your intention faltered when you noticed the scowl on his face.

“I’m the date, if you couldn’t tell,” he interjected.

From his vantage point, he observed the widening of your eyes at his declaration. Yet, when he didn’t hear any immediate retaliation from you, he flashed you— and everyone else watching— a lopsided smirk. He sensed your blockmates’ curiosity lingering, some perhaps wondering if he was truly dating you. But none of them dared to probe further—maybe because he wasn't exactly the approachable type.

After a few murmurs of ‘oh’ and ‘really’ from your blockmates, they returned their attention to the stage, where the next performer was beginning their pre-performance monologue.

You, on the other hand, look like you were out for his blood from how you’re glaring at him. “Are you out of your mind?” you hissed under your breath, just loud enough for him to hear.

Yes. Perhaps he was. Irrationality had seized him upon hearing the question. After all, he was there with you, visible for all to see. Did they not see him? Did he look like a fucking chair to those people? Common sense must be a luxury these days, given its absence in this situation.

Yet, a small voice of reason within him attempted to intervene, suggesting that the question might have stemmed from genuine curiosity.

As his best friend's younger sibling, seeing the two of you together wasn't an unusual occurrence for those who attend the same university. They likely concluded that your presence with him at the music festival was simply a matter of normal friendship (which it was, but they don’t have to know that, nor does he desire for these extras to reduce it to just that).

“I’m helping you save face like you said earlier,” he tells you, still wearing that annoying smirk.

“How does telling them you’re my date help me save face?” If anything, you'd be hiding on campus after his stunt. You could only hope words won’t travel fast.

“Would you rather I tell them I'm chaperoning you because some jerk canceled on you?”

Your words stalled at the base of your throat, unable to counter his remark. That shut you up, much to your chagrin. He was right.

“Yeah. That’s what I thought,” he quipped, grinning at your silence. “Come closer, there’s a lot of people.”

You huffed in irritation and decided to ignore him behind you, determined to make the most of your experience here. You’d let this slide for now. After all, he was here because of you.

But it wasn’t too long before you realized that ignoring him would be as futile as trying to pluck roses without being pricked by the thorns. You knew very well that this man thrives in getting under people’s skin.

“You should be flattered.”

Genuinely appalled, you ask, “I’m sorry?”

“Accepted.”

If it wasn’t night time and the blaring lights were replaced by the sun, he could have seen the twitch that your eye did at his retort.

At this point, murder is a tempting option. Sure, he’s taller and much bigger in physique terms, but you have the rage for it. Just one more insufferable antic—one more word— from this man and the whole university will be mourning their star player’s demise first thing tomorrow morning.

You took a deep breath to calm your murderous nerves, “Is that so? What part of telling people— oh wait, our schoolmates who are probably whispering behind our backs— that you’re my date, is flattering to you?”

The asshole had the audacity to shrug, “Calling me yours was.”

“Well then, you should be flattered. Not me.”

“You don’t know how flattered I am to be yours,” he mused.

If you didn’t know any better, his attempt at flirting might have sent warmth to your cheeks. But this was Kaiser— no one can tell when he’s being serious or just being his usual menace self talking shit like he’s employed to do so. Good thing you had better plans than spend it on his guessing games.

Just when you’re about to berate him once more, words halted on your throat because of a sight you least expected to see.

Han— the guy you’ve been talking to for almost a month now. The same guy who was your supposed date, to be more specific.

“What? Cat got your tongue, doll?”

If cats come in the form of a familiar man who’s a few good meters away, clearly having the time of his life dancing with someone, and clearly showing no signs of unavailability to go to a music festival he asked you to, then yes, it got your tongue.

You stayed silent far too long for Kaiser’s patience. Your lack of snarky clapbacks were starting to unsettle him more than he would allow. Shifting closer to you, he followed your line of sight to see what got you stunned in silence.

Recognizing what, or rather who, got your attention, he turns to you, his voice coming out too indignant, “Do you know that guy?”

“Do you?” you counter, picking up on his tone being all too casual as if they’re acquainted.

“He’s last week’s opposing team’s goalkeeper,” or was it ‘striker’? He couldn’t recall, so he’s more or less incompetent to him. One thing he remembers, however, “and he hates me.”

You threw him a glance, “Not surprised.”

“And do I give a fuck,” he shook his head, “Why do you keep looking at him?” Don’t fucking tell me.

Your answer wasn’t any better to what he was starting to imagine, “He was… supposed to be my date to this music festival,” you mumbled, looking down at your feet.

You didn’t want to see the look on Kaiser’s face, fearing you might see pity, and so you nailed your gaze to the ground. Totally oblivious of the man peering over you rather softly.

“Why can’t he then?” he asks, voice an octave lower.

“He said they had late notice training, so he can’t come.”

“Well, that better be his fucking ghost yapping with a brunette then,” he scoffs, looking straight to the lying man who canceled on you.

Sick of his face and sloppy dance moves, Kaiser turned his gaze back at you, only to be filled with rage because of it.

You look sad— and it made his blood boil. Not towards you, but for you.

“Y’know what? Let’s go there,” he urged, head pointing at where Han was.

Is he fucking crazy? You immediately shook your head at his scandalous suggestion. You might be feeling a little betrayed and angry, but rationality still had its hold on you— and it’s saying to not let Kaiser go with his idea.

Instead, you tug on his forearm, eyes still on the floor before looking up at him, “Can we leave, please?”

Kaiser was taken aback by your sudden meekness. He wasn’t used to this— to you, being all deflated and zoned out. He was used to your deadpan expressions and your eyes that seem to roll every time he utters a single word. He was used to you being, dare he say, feisty.

And he would rather have you stay like that all day long, even when he’s the receiving end of it.

But this? You, saying please to him, of all people? He doesn’t like it.

If this is how he gets to make you say please, then he doesn’t want it. Fuck that, and fuck that guy. How dare he.

Kaiser didn’t say anything back at your request, but you felt big calloused hands grasp on your hand still resting on his forearm. The next thing you knew, you were walking with him, shoulder-to-shoulder while his other hand was on yours guiding you to walk out of the scene.

“If I see one—just one drop of tear, I swear I am turning this damn car around.”

Your thoughts abruptly halted at the sound of Kaiser’s threat—his ultimatum, rather. It sounded more like a promise than a threat, and you knew this man well enough to understand that he never ate his words.

You shot him a glance and snickered. There was no way in high hell you’d ever cry in the same space where he was. It was the last thing you’d ever do, even if it meant convincing yourself that what you saw earlier was just a mere look-alike of Han.

“It's nothing. We aren’t even a thing,” you dismissed, your voice flat.

“But you thought you could be,” he countered, and damn if he wasn't right. “How do you even know him?”

“We're kind of talking, well, sort of—”

“Kind of? Sort of?” he scoffed.

“God—it's like a talking stage or something casual, Kaiser! There, got it?”

“That's not exclusive,” he remarked, adding insult to injury.

Irritation bubbled in your throat as his interrogation continued. But even before you could unleash your venom, you caught yourself. He was right. And while this man had never brought you good, it wasn't fair to make him the target of your bad.

“Yeah, it's not,” you admitted, a dry, humorless laugh escaping you. You recalled the brunette he danced with earlier. “I wasn't exclusive material for his reputation, I guess.”

What reputation? “That’s bullshit.” He gritted his teeth, his hand itching towards the steering wheel, clearly tempted to turn back to the festival.

“You said it yourself, he’s an athlete,” you pointed out, “You people never like to go exclusive with someone.”

“You people? Oh, please. Do not insult me by comparing me to the likes of him.”

The sass in his voice drew a chuckle from you. It was amusing how he said it with genuine horror, as if the mere idea of being associated with Han was an insult. “Why? Are you telling me you can commit to someone exclusively?”

“Someone like who? You?” He met your gaze briefly, “Absolutely.”

What the hell. “Stop messing around,” you snorted, effectively ending the conversation.

He was playing a dangerous game, saying that to you. Did he even realize what it did? Did he hear your stupid heart hammering in your chest? It was too loud, too obvious, a frantic drum solo against your ribs.

And the realization settled— he made your heart flutter.

His words, so simple, so casually tossed out, had landed like a bomb, sending shrapnel through your carefully constructed walls.

Michael Kaiser, of all people, made your heart flutter.

Suddenly, the air felt thin, the car an echo chamber amplifying the frantic rhythm of your traitorous heart. You knew you should scoff, dismiss it as another one of his infuriating jabs, but the truth was like a hot coal lodged in your throat.

“I’m not though,” he countered, eyes steady on the familiar road ahead. He sounded serious– too serious.

As you were about to retort back, the car lurched to a stop, announcing your arrival. You glanced out the window, the familiar sight of your house doing little to ease the tension that had coiled tight in your stomach.

“We’re here,” Kaiser announced, his voice a low rumble.

Hurried and flustered by the unexpected shift in the conversation, your clammy hands fumbled with the buckle, the metal cold and unyielding against your sweaty palms. You tugged, then tugged again, frustration building with each failed attempt.

“Easy, doll.”

Before you could protest, a large hand swooped in, effortlessly unlatching the buckle with a practiced flick. The sudden proximity sent a jolt through you, making your breath hitch. You met his gaze, his eyes a blazing blue as he held your stare for a beat too long before turning away.

Taking a deep breath, you composed yourself. You reached for the door handle, pushing it open and stepping out onto the familiar pavement. Before slamming the door shut, you paused, turning back to Kaiser with a newfound resolve.

Crouching down to meet his gaze, you surprised yourself with the words that tumbled out. “Be careful on your way home and,” you paused, “Thank you... Mikka.”

The nickname slipped out before you could stop it, leaving a blush blooming across your cheeks.

Before Kaiser could react, you slammed the door shut, the sound echoing in the quiet street.

Mikka. He repeats your words in his mind.

He watched you disappear into your house, a slow grin spreading across his face. Only when you were safely inside did he start the car, the image of your flustered face lingering in his mind.

Damn it, doll.

Meanwhile, you hurried to your room, clutching your chest where your heart still hammered a frantic rhythm.

Why did I call him that? you asked yourself.

The use of his nickname, a name you rarely uttered now, was a stark reminder that the two of you weren’t as close as you were younger.

It’s not a big deal, you tried to reason with yourself. He literally said you owed it to him, and calling it quits would be in the form of a stupid nickname. It doesn’t mean anything. Right— you were just returning a favor.

Your obvious self-deception was interrupted by the incessant buzzing of your phone, tossed carelessly on the bed. Picking up your phone, you opened one of the notifications, your breath catching in your throat.

It was a post on your university's gossip page, and there, plastered on the screen, was a picture of you and Kaiser.

The image froze a moment in time, capturing him standing protectively behind you, his arms caging you against a barricade. Panic clawed at your throat. This picture, out in the open, could be misconstrued in so many ways.

What were people going to think? Who took this photo, anyway?

Your eyes darted down the comment section, scrolling through a sea of unimaginable speculations, desperately searching for clues about the culprit.

Just then, a knock on the door startled you.

“Y/N? Can I talk to you?”

It was your brother— and his voice suggested he needed answers too.

Shit.

note. first mini series lmao xD will add cw as i go!

#☁️ my ode to you #michael kaiser x reader #blue lock x reader #kaiser x reader #blue lock imagines #michael kaiser imagines #kaiser imagines #michael kaiser x y/n #michael kaiser x you #bllk x y/n #bllk x you #bllk x reader #blue lock x y/n #blue lock x you #michael kaiser #blue lock fluff #first milestone event!#writing: 004

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galedekarios · 3 days

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minsc & gale

recently i've been doing a playthrough taking minsc along during the limited amount of time we do get to connect with his character in the game and i have to say he's growing on me in a way he didn't in previous titles.

i wanted to take the opportunity here to write a short post about his relationship with gale because that, too, is something i found myself enjoying despite the (too) few interactions that we have between them.

minsc's initial thoughts about gale

Player: How are you and Gale getting along? Minsc: I do not wish to speak of the wizard. Minsc: I could not have said it better myself. - Player Option 1: Gale's great - what's your problem with him? Minsc: He came to me one night with a little book of mischief - full of words and their meanings. Minsc: 'Posterior', he says. 'Can you say 'posterior'?' I refused! Minsc does not need to know the language of wizards. Player: 'Posterior' isn't wizard-talk - it's another word for 'butt'. Minsc: It is an inferior word. Far too long to use in a battle cry, which is where a 'butt' belongs. Minsc: Gale would do better to educate himself in the ways of sword and steel than to throw these pointy words at Minsc. Minsc: Ai, yes. Gale also owns a cat. A cat with wings! That is most unnerving for poor Boo. Player: You should give him a break - he's only trying to help. Minsc: Never! If he is not careful, Boo will shred his books and use them as bedding! - Player Option 2: Did you know that he has an explosive magical orb in his chest that could destroy a city? Minsc: WHAT? Minsc: That is a thousand times more interesting than anything that has ever been written in a book. Minsc: GALE! MY GOOD FRIEND! WHERE ARE YOU? MINSC AND BOO WOULD LIKE TO HEAR ABOUT THE EXPLODING.

they may not start off on the right foot, but with gale's genuine interest in other people's cultures as well as his perception and easy-going nature that changes:

sorcerous sundries

Minsc: Minsc has never trusted places such as this. Too much of a wizard's power can be simply packaged and picked up. devnote: Grumbling as we make our way through the shelves of Sorcerous Sundries Minsc: Well, picked up by all but Minsc. When he touches the many delicate little jars, oh how the wizards shout and stare! devnote: Revealing that his objection of Sorcerous Sundries is not in fact a deep philosophical belief that wizards have too much power - they just make him feel stupid and awkward when he pokes at their things Gale: Fear not, Minsc. You have a wizard at your side who positively encourages such curiosity. You'll fit right in. devnote: Reassuring Minsc: Obliged, wizard. Should we find our way to a weaponsmith, Minsc will rough you up a little - so that you too can fit in. devnote: Warm, comradely, would genuinely be doing Gale a favour

i feel like it truly speaks to gale's character that he doesn't dismiss minsc here - neither his feelings of inadequacy nor his innate curiosity about the things he perceives as wizardly.

it would've been very easy for gale - the wizard prodigy, the former chosen, to archwizard - to act the part of the haughty scholar, akin to the arrogant wizards that minsc describes in this banter, looking down on him, shouting at him, but gale doesn't.

gale reassures minsc, encourages him, telling him he'll fit right in. it reminds me of the way he treats karlach and fostering her interest in books and reading. another pair of seemingly polar opposites that still find a connection. i do think gale is quite natural at this, despite his long time spent in isolation.

and minsc does appreciate it - his tone changes to one of warmth, one of camaraderie - and i think this is also when minsc's perception of gale changes: from the annoying wizard to someone he sees as a companion and friend.

rashemi traditions

Minsc: Gale. Minsc worries you might send a fireball up his butt, with all of this stringy hair in your face. Gale: Is that why you keep your head shaved? I assumed it was a custom of some sort. devnote: Curious, referring to Minsc's origins Minsc: Oh, no! Most warriors of Rashemen wear long battle-braids, weighed down with stone. Minsc can show you, when next we camp? Gale: Thank you, but I'm more wizard than warrior. I'm not sure my scalp would stand up to such a plaiting. devnote: Very politely declining

i like this banter for several reasons: i think not only does it show the progression of their relationship with minsc offering to show gale the traditions of his homeland, gale also shows the same curiosity he shows many different cultures and ways of life, same as he does with lae'zel for instance and githyanki culture.

when he declines minsc's offer, he does so politely, without insulting minsc's traditions, putting the onus on himself instead. he's the wizard, not the warrior.

house of hope

Minsc: Gale! You will perhaps able to explain where Boo has not - what exactly is the difference between a devil and a demon? Gale: A fascinating question, one that boils down to which criteria we choose to apply. Are we speaking about the physiological? Theological? Etymological? devnote: In teacher-mode - up for an in-depth, intellectual discussion Minsc: Eh. Just how-to-kill... -ical. devnote: Non-plussed, echoing Gale's ending every word with 'ical' Gale: Oh. Then for your purposes, they are exactly the same. devnote: Disappointed

this banter genuinely made me laugh. again, i like how it shows the progression of their friendship, to the point of where minsc goes from finding gale annoying to imitating his speech. and gale doesn't put it beyond minsc to have an 'in-depth, intellectual' discussion... even if he is disappointed by the end of their banter, realising that minsc's priorities are... elsewhere.

wychlaran

depending on your party composition and who you take with you, minsc can also call gale his wychlaran.

The Wychlaran, meaning "wise old women" in the ancient language of Halardrim, also known as the Witches of Rashemen outside their lands, were the spiritual leaders of Rashemen, communing with the spirits and guiding the souls of the Rashemi people.

minsc does use it, too, to describe a special bond and a sense of duty and protectiveness to the people he ascribes this title to. he did so in bg1 with dynaheir and in bg2 with aerie.

elminster

Minsc: It must be difficult for Gale to imagine great Elminster a-courting. Writing poems. Doing... certain... deeds. Gale: Long before my time, thank goodness. That's not an image I care to dwell on. Minsc: Ugh. It is difficult for Minsc to think of, too. Let us speak no more of it. Minsc: ... Minsc: Of Elminster and the sex, I mean.

another banter that did genuinely make me laugh despite the seriousness of the situation, especially given the bond that elminster and gale share as well, which speaks of paternal feelings on elminster's part that come with a certain sense of responsibility, as well as gale's admiration, but also often exasperation with his former mentor.

on a more serious note, minsc offers great insights in his interactions with gale and gale's story:

mystra and the vremyonni

The vremyonni or Old Ones were an arcane brotherhood in Rashemen. Men that were arcane spellcasters in Rashemen had two choices, exile or to join the vremyonni. Many vremyonni were kept alive for eons by longevity magic. Vremyonni were expert weaponsmiths and magic item creators. On very rare occasions, vremyonni would fight in the defense of Rashemen. Vremyonni used secrets of magic that even the Witches of Rashemen did not use, destructive spells forbidden among the wilds of Rashemen, in case such magic was needed. The Running Rocks harbored secret strongholds of the vremyonni. All vremyonni wore masks.

Minsc: Gale reminds me of the vremyonni of my homeland. The man-mages of Rashemen. Minsc: While the girl-folk go on to rule as wychlaran, Weave-touched boys were hidden away. Trained to work their craft in silence and secrecy. Minsc: It is an old custom, not well-observed. In truth I thought it born of caution, after some catastrophe wrought by wizardly men-folk of old. Minsc: Now I wonder if it was not done to hide them from Mystra, and the snares she sets for young and prideful boys, hm? Minsc: Though this suggests that Mystra has never tempted a witch into foolishness. Not that I would blaspheme by suggesting otherwise. Minsc: I forget why I began this long and winding story. Yes Boo - we have been spending too long around the wizard.

i think this is a very interesting banter, especially since it's also only marked to trigger if gale agrees to return the crown to mystra.

it's easy to dismiss this banter, laugh it off as just another instance of minsc being minsc, but i think it's important to consider it within the context of game canon and what has been shown to us.

it's a story and everything within a story is there for a reason.

another great insight from minsc comes if gale is pushed towards the crown by the player:

gale and godhood

Minsc: Who among us has not been spurned by a lover? But a word of advice, if Minsc may be so bold: Minsc: Let the wizard lick his wounds. Write some rickety rhymes, and weep most manfully into his hamster's hide. Eh - his cat's hide. Minsc: But... his boasting is unbecoming. 'Claim godhood', he says? Will this make him any less a man with a half-mended heart?

again, minsc does at times share great insight into other characters and he does so here again with gale:

will this make him any less a man with a half-mended heart?

i think it quite accurately goes straight to the crux of what makes it so very easy to push gale towards godhood: he is hurt. he feels abandoned. by his goddess. by his former lover. both as a mystran and on deeply personal level.

he is drifting, seeking something to hold his head above the water. if it's not the protag's love or friendship, it will be the crown.

anyhow, i never expected to write this when i first learned that minsc would be a companion, but i truly did enjoy him and his interactions with gale in particular.

#gale dekarios #gale of waterdeep #minsc of rashemen #baldur's gate 3 #bg3 #baldurs gate 3 #bg3 meta #ch: gale dekarios #ch: minsc #vg: baldur's gate 3 #series: baldur's gate #meta: mybg3

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luvelylaconic · 3 days

Text

Jealous? Nah. (Yes.)

Gojo x Fem Reader (part 1): MINORS DNI

In which, you befriend Suguru and it doesn't sit well with Satoru. He's sure it's just because he doesn't want to lose his best friend, right?

Content: Possessiveness, Jealousy, Eventual smut, Jujutsu College AU, Slight Toxic Relationship, Sexual Themes

(Authors Note: This started off as a oneshot but then I just kept on writing... and then I had more ideas for it. I also have a BUNCH of unfinished oneshots so im hoping by publishing this it will motivate me to actually finish something lmao.)

<3 -

Gojo knew he wasn't one to settle down. His ego was overwhelming to most and he was far too conceited to even think about a relationship- and yeah, even he admits he is (maybe) narcissistic.

And he had every right to be. He was the chosen one after all and everyone dulled in comparison to him. He was the one that was blessed with a strength and technique nobody could compete with- he was THE Gojo Satoru.

So what absolutely confused him is how you always happened to enter his mind. Since at first, you were just another sorcerer that joined late at his school that he had to begrudgingly share his best friend with, since you were friends with him too after all. (but he reminds himself you two would never be as close as friends as he is with him.)

But the dynamic soon changed when Suguru insisted on hanging out as a group after he couldn't help but complain that he didn't get so see him as often since she was taking all his time away. And he was absolutely frustrated over it, he should've just kept his mouth shut.

But the frustration didn't stem from you being obnoxious or difficult to be around, it was the complete opposite in fact. You were too nice. But not the kind where it seemed forced, it was actually genuine. You also easily engaged in conversations with anyone and everybody, instantly catching the attention of random people who wanted just a chance to be noticed by your gaze. And he admitted, you were captivating- but that only served to annoy him. It all meant nothing if you couldn't hold yourself in a fight. Being pretty served nothing when it meant you would die to a simple curse somewhere down the line.

But Satoru quickly had to eat his words after overhearing that you had been promoted to a Grade 1 sorcerer. How? You seemed so gentle and docile, he had just automatically assumed you were nothing above a grade 3.

He was sure it happened to be a mistake, that maybe another sorcerer was with you in a mission who did something impressive and you somehow got credit for it, or someone bribed the higher ups, or maybe you personally knew a higher up? That seemed more probable. And to investigate, he pulled some strings to have you sent out on a mission with him.

And god- he was getting real tired and of being wrong. You were completely different person when you were fighting. You were borderline chaotic, completely ruthless to curses and had a technique and fighting style he would have never expected from you. Your kind nature dissipated almost instantly, barely giving him time to process what was even happening. Safe to say you exorcised the curse without a problem.

And ever since then, he found himself thinking about you too often, much to his dismay. Replaying the fight over and over again in his mind; how you dominated the humanlike creature with such ease, your body so graceful yet powerful, and how maybe... you were like that in other situations as well. Imagining how you would fight with him for dominance, taking on a different character that only he could see and nobody else - stop stop stop.

He groaned in frustration, getting up from his bed and ignoring the slight tightness in his pants. It was the wrong time to be thinking about these things, he had plans with the group, you included. Wait no- it was the wrong time all the time.

He then gave himself some leeway time to calm himself and his thoughts down. Well knowing he was going to be late to the planned lunch. Whatever, it was expected of him by now.

But what wasn't expected was the scene he happened to walk in to; everything seemed normal for the most part, everything except for the fact Suguru sat next to you, his arm extended across the top of the booth, dangerously close to being wrapped around your shoulders.

Something about it made him upset, staring at the two intensely as he slowly walked over. He quickly attempted to fault it at the fact he was jealous over you stealing Suguru away from him, nothing else.

And to keep normalcy, he loudly gagged and motioned his hands towards his throat,

"Gross, get a room."

Upon hearing his voice, Shoko rolled her eyes while the other two simply ignored him, continuing on their conversation. Or maybe they simply didn't hear him, but he still assumes they're ignoring him.

Satoru did not like being ignored,

"Tough audience.", he muttered as he slid into the booth directly across from you, letting his shoulders fall and setting his head face down on the table.

His behavior made you laugh lightly, finally turning your attention to the dramatic man,

"Traffic?", you questioned, well knowing he could get faster here without a car and more than likely, chose to be late. But you assumed it was nice to ask anyway.

Despite his attempts at sulking, he moved his shades down and lifted his head to meet your eyes upon hearing your voice, deeply breathing in,

"Something like that."

The raven haired man next to you eyed down his friend, knowing something was bothering him. He had a suspicion, but he pushed it aside for now. He'll figure it out sooner or later. But for now, he just simple smiled at his friend, giving a simple wave. He also made sure to keep his arm exactly where it was too, maybe even letting it fall closer.

And for the most part, the lunch went normal. Except for one, minor (okay major) thing;

For some extreme, bizarre reason- Gojo was nearly quiet the entire time. Quiet. Except for a few simple comments he couldn't help but make- of course.

But everyone knew it was extremely out of character for him. He was not one to simply go silent. His favorite topic to talk about was himself, he never missed an opportunity to humorously make fun of someone, or in return compliment himself in some manner. He never ran out of things to say.

So when the others were beginning to finish up, they had yet to mention the obvious elephant in the room. Simply choosing to ignore it- knowing the egotistical man would prefer to not have it mentioned than anyone insinuate that he has a problem or issue.

And everyone went on with their day like normal. Except for Satoru that is.

He sat on a chair in his room, his brows furrowed as he looked through his phone to find your social medias, desperate to find more about you. Something to ruin your personality, to prove that you weren't as a good person as you pulled off to be. Or maybe bad photos that could warp his image he had of you- that you were actually ugly and wearing really good makeup and not pretty after all.

But what he found only aggravated him even more. Your photos you had posted made you look ethereal, whether they were candid and simple or taken with the most highest quality and planned photoshoots. All your posts were absolutely social media worthy, showing the best angles of you. Of course they fucking were.

Your tagged photos also had nothing bad, but rather the opposite. Seeing you in group photos, you stood out drastically. Your smile brighter than anyone else's, your outfits better than any other girls'. But, who were all these people you were with? Were you that popular? He never really saw you with any other friends.

And the older photos dating years back just showed how you only got better looking with age, not that you were ever bad looking in the slightest.

Still desperate, he began to vigorously look through your stories; mainly being met with more photos of yourself, your childhood pets, and random scenery. But he quickly stopped once he was met with a familiar face.

It was Suguru. And by the looks of it, it seems you befriended Shoko first and within a few weeks, Suguru began making an appearance onto your social media as well. Weeks ago. How did he not know about you earlier?

The familiar feeling in his stomach then returned after seeing a photo of only you and Suguru, clearly hanging out without anyone else. It only got worse as he tried to tap away from it but only got more and more pictures of the two of you; out eating, at a concert- fuck, he even recognized Suguru's shoe in the corner of a picture you took of your coffee.

And if Shoko knew you first, why didn't she introduce him as well? Why only his friend? And how did you guys get so close so fast? He's still Suguru's best friend, right?

His deranged, icy eyes began to scan anything else your account would give him;

You had a lot of followers and a lot of likes on your post.

So he went through each and every account that had liked your post, who followed you, or who you followed.

He even deduced it down to who liked your posts the most, who you were actual friends with, people you seemed to have a falling out with and don't follow anymore, and possible romantic interests. Suguru was of course on that list, much to his disliking.

He's sure he was only like this for his best friends sake. He didn't want him to get in a relationship with a girl that didn't deserve him or had something to hide. Right?'

And after an hour of agonizing scrolling and searching, he finally tossed his phone across the room onto his bed in frustration.

He was determined to find something, anything. And once he was determined, it was only a matter of time.

#gojo x reader #geto suguru #gojo satoru #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu gojo #gojo satoru x reader #slow burn #jjk x reader #gojo x you

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egcdeath · 22 hours

Text

life's a beach

pairing: patrick zweig x reader request: @diorrfairy: i can't stop thinking about patrick x reader who's an introvert, kinda shy but with a fiery temper just like him. and she knows it's better not to get involved with guys like him but she can't help it. and he's constantly teasing her trying to get on her nerves like … summary: a chain smoking tennis player disrupts your day on the beach and uproots your entire summer vacation. word count: 6.5k warnings: enemies to lovers (kinda… the reader folds like a paper airplane pretty quickly), smoking, no use of y/n, low speed police (pool security guard) chase, mentions of smoking, brief mention of alcohol, so much exposition, vague descriptions of sports, some kissing, patrick and reader are spoiled rich kids author’s note: this fic definitely got away from me, but i hope that you all enjoy it! also, i apologize in advance for any characterization issues, since i’ve only seen the movie once. with that being said, i’m still taking requests if you want to send me anything!

For all your life, the beach has been your happy place. The soothing, repetitive push and pull of the water and the endless crashing of the tide was a guaranteed way to make your loud mind quiet down. Next to the endless ocean, you were just a tiny little dot–not a girl who was a golf prodigy, or someone whose parents' financial power caused everyone around you to treat you like a delicate doll. In fact, that was part of the reason why your parents purchased the lot in the first place, as you insisted that the comfort of a semi-private beach was necessary for you to properly enjoy your vacation.

That was also what made your smoking companion on the beach all the more jarring.

You were fully reclined on a beach chair and deeply immersed in the novel in your hands when you first caught a whiff of the strong, putrid scent, which immediately left you annoyed. Turning your head to follow the scent, your face somehow fell further when it fell upon the culprit of the foul cigarette smell. The side profile of a man who was about your age, casually smoking as he stared out at the body of water across from you.

Perhaps you had become so immersed in your book that you’d failed to realize that only a few steps away from you, someone new had joined you on the sand. After all, when you sat down just an hour ago, you were completely alone. Somehow, that managed to make your mood sour even more. There was all this space on the beach, yet this man decided to sit down right next to you and smoke a cigarette!

You were sure that you were gawking at him at this point, if at nothing else, his sheer audacity. When he finally seemed to sense your seething gaze, you quickly looked back at your book as if it was the most interesting thing in the world—despite you completely losing your spot.

After a moment of pretending to resume your reading, the stale scent of the cigarette had lessened, indicating to you that the man next to you had finally stopped. Good. Maybe your simple glare had been more effective than you realized.

But nearly as soon as a self-satisfied smirk could find itself on your face, the scent returned in full force. You practically had to physically restrain yourself from uttering, “Seriously?” aloud.

Seeing as your first passive aggressive attempt at getting him to stop was futile, you decided to pull out the big guns.

With your all but abandoned novel in hand, you curled your unoccupied arm around your mouth and began to cough profusely. You put all your might into pulling out the most atrocious sounds you could muster from your lungs, and when you decided you were satisfied with this passive aggressive approach, you glanced over at your beach companion, only to find him looking back at you.

With him looking straight at you, you felt your stomach trip over itself. You’d always been a sucker for pretty men, and with one pointed look, you were sure that this would be no different. Yet, armed with the knowledge that you were the one who started this, you willed yourself not to give in to someone with good looks and cigarette breath.

You continued to stare him down, hoping that you were coming off as intimidating, rather than swooning. Though, the longer the two of you glared at each other, you swore you could see his lips mold into the look of a smirk, particularly as he took a pointedly long drag from his cigarette.

It quickly became abundantly clear to you that he wasn’t interpreting your gaze to be anything near threatening—if anything, he saw it as a challenge. Unluckily for him, you were incapable of backing down to a challenge.

As soon as you opened your mouth to form some sort of sassy remark, you were surprisingly beaten to the punch.

“Want one?” he asked, the smirk unwavering on his stupidly attractive face.

“Ew,” you replied, then immediately regretted it. Seriously? Ew? That was the best that you could do? You would think that years of dodging and delivering verbal daggers over family dinner would’ve better prepared you for this moment, but leave it to you to be tripped up by a pretty face.

You paused for a beat too long before retorting, “You can keep your lung disease, thank you very much.” You readjusted the book in your lap, still not feeling completely satisfied with your reply, but anything was better than your first statement. “Maybe go smoke somewhere that’s not right next to me, like,” you paused to gesture to the widely empty beach. “Literally anywhere else.”

“I didn’t realize that you were queen of this strip of beach. My apologies, Your Highness,” he shot back snarkily. You swore you could feel your blood boiling as it pumped through your veins.

“I’m not saying you can’t stay here,” you could feel your volume increasing as more adrenaline pumped through you, “I’m just asking that you don’t smoke.”

You watched as his brows raised questioningly the longer you spoke. “Or at least, don’t smoke next to me,” you clarified, folding under the pressure of a set of rather piercing blue eyes.

“Fine,” he agreed with a shrug, to your surprise. That hadn’t been so hard after all. Maybe he wasn’t all that bad. You bit back the part of you that wanted to feel triumphant at your clear victory over this random, pain-in-the-ass man.

Once more, you pretended to read your book while in your peripheral vision you watched him grab his few items, including his box of cigarettes, and stand up to move. What you weren’t expecting to see was him plant himself just a few feet further from you, sit down, then begin to aggressively tap his box of cigarettes, just loud enough to grab your attention. Naively believing that he wouldn’t actually have the audacity to begin smoking again, you were slightly scandalized when he pulled a stick out and returned to happily chain smoking.

He briefly glanced back over at you, the smug look on his face telling you that he was eagerly awaiting your reaction. As much as you didn’t want to humor him, you clearly couldn’t hide your annoyance.

“Oh my god,” you huffed, grabbing your tote bag and towel and standing up to head back towards your beach house. Maybe the beach just wasn’t in the cards for today. At least that man couldn’t bother you in your sunroom.

——————

One of the benefits of owning and spending your summer at your vacation home was being able to have your friends stop by and spend a few days with you. Seeing as your parents were utterly uninterested in spending any of your summer break together, it was also nice that you were basically able to do whatever you wanted over the summer.

As a teenager, this mainly meant parties and intense summer flings, but as your time in college began to mature you and your friends, the novelty of doing something you weren’t supposed to be doing began to wear off. What never seemed to wear off was your love for the local ice cream shop, with its sweet dairy scent lingering in the air and a waffle cone that was nothing short of to die for.

With one of your friends’ visits coming to an end, the two of you sat on the patio of this shop, racing against time and heat as you worked on your cones. In between gossip about which one of your classmates had to attend graduation with a baby bump, you caught your eye on someone exiting the shop to join you on the patio.

You practically had to hold back your groan as you processed who it was. Unfortunately, your enemy from the beach hadn’t felt nearly enough shame, and he openly waved at you.

Upon seeing your eyes wander, your friend turned around to see what it was that caught your eye. Just as quickly as she turned around to view the asshole, she turned right back to you with a newfound excitement.

“Oh my god, you know him?” your friend asked you, shock and elation written all over her face for a reason you couldn’t understand.

“Unfortunately,” you replied, taking a bite of a bit of exposed cone. “Do you know him? Did he go to your high school or something?”

She scoffed at your words as if you were missing the most obvious point in the world. “‘Did he go to my high school or something?’” she repeated in disbelief. “That’s Patrick Zweig. He’s about to go pro.”

You tilted your head and furrowed your brows, as if to ask for more context.

“In tennis? He’s like, the thing right now,” she explained.

“Maybe that’s why he’s such an asshole,” you glanced back over at him, only to find that he was unabashedly staring at you as he licked his own cone of ice cream. If you hadn’t had such a ridiculous encounter a week ago, you would’ve thought that he was being suggestive towards you.

“What happened that made him such an asshole?” she prodded, and you swore that she leaned forward as she asked.

“Please try to look a little less excited,” you laughed, entertained by your friend’s investment in your story about someone who was a celebrity in her eyes.

“Sorry,” she apologized disingenuously. “Go ahead.”

“Well, I was just trying to do some reading out on the beach, when he sat like, two feet away from me. Mind you, the entire beach was empty. He could’ve gone anywhere else.”

“Dick,” she interjected, though the unsubtle glance over in Patrick’s direction and her overzealous body language suggested to you that she might’ve meant the words less than she thought she did.

“Right,” you agreed. “But that clearly wasn’t enough. So he starts chain smoking. Right next to me.”

“Rude,” she added, doing her best to validate you as you told the story. Her ability to only add commentary in a monosyllabic manner was entertaining you, but you couldn’t focus too much on that now.

“So I called him out. I was like, ‘Hey, you dick. I know that you want black lung, but not everyone else does,’” you explained, embellishing your story to disguise your lackluster responses.

She giggled as you explained and you continued on. “Obviously, he was embarrassed that I called him out. So he looks me right in the eyes, and-“

“And what?” she asked, her eyes practically glimmering, as if you were about to tell her a story about some wild tryst that left you with a negative impression of him.

“Babe, I don’t think this story ends the way you think it does.”

“We’ll see,” she said with a shrug and a wink.

“Well, he got his ass up and started walking away. Internally, I’m celebrating. But then, he sits down pretty close to me… and starts smoking again. And he’s staring me down the whole time he does it.”

“Ugh! He is an asshole,” she shook her head as you wrapped up your story. “But like, isn’t he kinda…?”

“He could be the sexiest man alive and couldn’t seduce me with that personality,” you replied confidently, although you weren’t completely sure of your words.

“That’s certainly not stopping him from trying,” she glanced over her shoulder once more, where he was still looking at you while very intently eating his ice cream cone.

“Gross,” you replied, feigning a full-body shudder. “You couldn’t even pay me to go anywhere near him.”

“It’s probably for the best anyway. A friend of my friend said there was some super messy relationship drama with him recently.”

“Lovely,” you replied, trying your best to look and sound disinterested, but feeling curious regardless. “I feel bad for whoever has to spend any extended period of time with him,” you popped the bottom of your ice cream cone into your mouth, then crushed a paper towel in your hand. “Wanna head out?”

——————

After that, you truly tried your best to avoid Patrick. Like clockwork, he seemed to appear on the beach in your backyard during the late afternoon. You weren’t ashamed to admit that you had watched him through the windows of your bedroom more than a handful of times, and you could almost swear that his head was on a swivel, as if he were looking for someone before he settled into his spot.

Unfortunately for you, it felt like he seemed to pop up wherever you were. As you evaluated boxes of strawberries at the grocery store, you noticed him eyeing bunches of bananas not all that far away from you. Midway through a hike, you noticed a familiar set of distractingly muscular thighs and tried your best to hide, much to your friend’s confusion. While drinking a fruity cocktail at a bar, you noticed him and finished off your drink and threw down a bill at record speed.

You guessed that you never realized how small a town was until you were actively attempting to avoid someone. In a way, it was a little bit exciting to be dodging him so vehemently, though you’d never really admit that to yourself. At least, it was exciting until it became an utter annoyance, much like it was becoming at that very moment.

After you’d decided that you’d spent enough of your summer lounging around without practicing any golf, you decided to take it upon yourself to head to your local country club and take on the familiar course. Of course, you couldn’t play any golf without fueling up first, which left you in the restaurant of the club snacking on a cup of fries when you spotted the one person you had been trying desperately to dodge.

You averted your gaze down to your phone and acted as if you were reading the most interesting thing in the world, but not even that farce lasted long, as you were met with the sound of a chair scratching the floor across from you. You looked back up and were met with Patrick’s intense, searing stare.

“Are you following me, or something?” he asked, his brows furrowed at you as he looked at you with concern.

“What?!” you asked with disbelief. “You’re the one who keeps showing up around me and keeps licking ice cream seductively at me!”

“Seductively?” he laughed right in your face, and you could feel your face immediately warm up in embarrassment.

“Shut up,” you replied weakly, though you knew what you saw. “Who even are you?” you asked, despite now having the displeasure of knowing exactly who he was, thanks to your friend and a Google search.

He began to smirk, and it took everything in you to not want to wipe that smug smile right off of his face. “I’m Patrick, and you are?”

You introduced yourself while mentally berating yourself for the butterflies erupting in your stomach over his intent gaze. Unfortunately, Patrick was even better looking than you could’ve imagined up close, with sunkissed skin and freckles that seemed to go on for miles.

“Well if you’re not stalking me, what are you doing here?” he questioned, though it was clear from his crooked, goofy smile that he wasn’t being serious.

“I play golf,” you explained with a casual shrug, though the feelings you were having inside were far from casual. “So I’m here to do that. You?”

“I knew I’d heard that name before,” Patrick began before stealing a french fry from you and popping it into his mouth. “You won a championship recently?”

You nodded with what you hoped was a neutral expression on your face, hoping to brush him off despite the fireworks going off in your stomach and the heat returning to your face. Sure, it wasn’t the first time someone had recognized you for your accomplishments out on the golf course, but it felt different coming from him.

“I did,” you replied as casually as possible, not acknowledging his fry thievery or reciprocating your knowledge of his athletic achievements. It was always better to be more mysterious with the type of person who seemed to love the chase, and it seemed clear to you that Patrick was one of those people. “Anyway, I need to go practice so I can win the next championship.”

You pushed your unfinished dish of fries towards him and stood up before grabbing the golf bag propped up next to your feet. You pushed your chair in and didn’t even spare him a glance back in his direction as you walked away, secretly hoping to yourself that he was still watching you as intensely as he’d been watching you at the table.

You tried your hardest not to ruminate over your conversation and feelings too much, but as you walked out to the first hole, you couldn’t help but over analyze everything. The first and most confusing of which being your feelings towards Patrick. Clearly, you were attracted to him. Despite your terrible first impressions of each other and having what could arguably be described as a meet-ugly, you couldn’t pretend like his good looks and charming, yet cocky demeanor didn’t have an effect on you. It was clear from the way that the butterflies in your stomach decided to stop lying dormant every time he was in your vicinity.

What you still couldn’t quite place were his feelings towards you. It was obvious that he was getting some kick out of teasing you. Hell, it was obvious from the first interaction you had with him. And it seemed like he might be interested in you, based on the way he seemed to be magnetically drawn to you, and his less than appropriate treatment of his ice cream cone, which he could deny all he wanted, was definitely a shoddy attempt at flirting. Even your friend had noticed.

Just as you began to try to make sense of your previous interaction, you looked up to find a golf cart headed your way. The cart was manned by none other than the subject of your deep thoughts, and as Patrick got closer to you, you swore you could see a fiery excitement ignited in his body.

“Play with me?” Patrick asked once he parked, despite already being off the vehicle and reaching for his rented golf bag.

You paused for a moment, as if you were considering his proposition, despite you already knowing your answer. “As long as you don’t mind getting your ass whooped.”

You made sure to deliver on this promise, beating Patrick with ease. In a way, it felt like comeuppance for him being a nuisance towards you just a few weeks ago. But that didn’t mean your mini tournament was without its downsides for you. You tried desperately to fight the urge to giggle like a schoolgirl when he said something stupid and snarky, and to quiet your screaming brain during the many, many, times you corrected his stance.

What you were also surprised to find was that Patrick wasn’t all that terrible of company to keep. He seemed to know exactly what to say to make you laugh, despite your effort to be unimpressed with him, or how to throw you off right before you swung at a ball. More than once, you had to remind him that no amount of teasing would change the fact that he had a terrible score, but it certainly didn’t stop him from trying.

With your landslide victory clear and your game over, the two of you made your way back to the rental station.

“You definitely cheated,” Patrick commented as he put his equipment back.

“You’re such a sore loser,” you replied with a roll of your eyes and a laugh. You’d been doing a lot of eye rolling and laughing while playing golf with him, and it was oddly quite pleasant.

“I’m not!” he insisted, turning back to face you as if that would somehow prove his point.

“You are, though! You’re a dirty player, too. I don’t think anyone has ever come up behind me and yelled for me to focus before.”

“Whatever,” he dismissed you casually, “You would be eating your words right now if we were playing tennis.”

“Yeah?” you questioned with raised brows.

“Yeah,” he parroted back, taking a step towards you and locking that intense gaze on you once more.

Feeling bold, you matched his step forward, practically getting in his face. “Fine then. Let’s play.”

“Really?” he sounded shocked by your proposition, and looked utterly unintimidated by the fact that your faces were practically touching.

“Sure. There are some courts over by the pool,” you turned to look in the direction of the pool, taking that as an opportunity to step away from him. You feared what you might do if you stayed that close to him for any longer than you needed to. “Isn’t that what you came here to do anyway?”

“So you are stalking me?” he joked, referencing your earlier conversation.

You rolled your eyes once more. At this rate, your eyes were going to be stuck at the back of your head. “Do you want to play or not?”

If you were a beast on the golf course, Patrick was a sight to behold on the tennis court. The brief article you read online simply did not do the man across from you justice as he served balls at you that probably would have wiped your head clean off of your body if you had any slower reflexes.

While you were able to get a few good hits in, courtesy of the lessons your parents put you in before they realized that golf was your calling, none of them remotely compared to the man across the court.

But your embarrassing loss was rewarded by hearing the repetitive loop of grunts and groans from your competitor. It was somewhat of a miracle that you were able to keep it together without bursting out laughing or squeezing your thighs together. You were also handsomely rewarded by seeing those muscular thighs in action. To be completely frank, there were more than a few moments where you lost momentum due to distraction from Patrick’s good looks.

While Patrick had proved himself to be a sore loser while playing golf, he wasn’t a terrible winner. He only gloated about crushing you once the two of you had finished playing, but he did happen to revel in his win for the entire walk from the tennis courts to the locker rooms.

Surprisingly, you weren’t that annoyed by him. In fact, you were pretty sure that you were hovering around the feeling of endearment.

You sat out in the lobby, freshly showered and playing on your phone when a familiar presence joined you once more.

“Are you hungry?” Patrick asked you as he made himself right at home and sat down across from you.

Was he about to ask you out on a date?

“I could eat,” you replied, trying to ignore the butterflies in your stomach once more.

“Let’s get dinner, then,” he suggested, and you tried your best not to look too excited. He was asking you out on a date. What an unexpected turn of events.

“Sure. There’s a place just up the street if you want to walk?”

The diner was slightly further than you remembered it being, but the time passed by quickly as the two of you divulged stories of your sports accomplishments on your trek over. Over dinner, the two of you instantly bonded over a similar upbringing of wealthy parents who couldn’t really be bothered to raise you, and backgrounds in boarding schools that prioritized your athletic skills over anything else.

After spending way too long at your booth and working through a spread of food that would send a shiver down your coaches’ spines, your waiter finally stopped by your table with an exhausted look on their face.

“One check or two?” they asked you.

“One,” Patrick replied before you had the chance to pipe up. The waiter turned around without inquiring anything more, clearly tired of having to serve the two of you.

“Wow,” you said with a giggle. “Chivalry is not dead.”

“I’m single-handedly keeping it alive,” he joked right along with you.

Feeling emboldened by your day of camaraderie and teasing each other, you decided to ask something. “Does that make this count as a date, then?” you asked it as a joke, though you were genuinely curious about the answer. While you’d previously found yourself intrigued with his looks, you’d now learned that he was far more than that. It was safe to say that you’d developed a full-blown crush over the span of the day.

“Do you want it to count as one?” he asked almost earnestly, and despite the fact that you were sitting, you swore you felt your knees go weak.

You shrugged nonchalantly, but the grin on your face was anything but. Fortunately, he was wearing a matching grin, and you almost swore there was a dusting of pink on his cheeks. You buckled under his gaze, and looked down into your nearly empty cup of water. “Sure.”

“Then it’s a date,” he confirmed.

“It’s so hot,” you huffed as the two of you stepped outside and into the humid night.

“Wanna cool off at the pool?” he suggested after holding the door open for you.

“Wow, you just don’t want this date to end, huh?” you teased. “The pool is definitely closed by now.”

“So?” he replied.

“So you want to break in?”

“Why not?” he shot back.

You stared at him for a moment with a mostly blank expression.

“You’re such a bad influence. Let’s go,” you conceded, heading in the direction of the city’s pool.

Once the two of you arrived at the locked gate, you stood expectantly, waiting for the next part of Patrick’s plan. You didn’t have to wait for too long, as with a brief confirmation that you were ready, he hoisted you up and over the fence. You then watched as he flung his own body over the fence, and you bit your lip as you attempted to distract yourself from how that image made you feel.

With both of you on the correct side of the fence, you took it upon yourself to shuck off your clothes—save for your underwear–before you dipped your toe in the cold water.

“How’s the water?” Patrick asked as he approached you, taking his shirt and shorts off in the process. You tried your best not to ogle too much, but his six-pack was definitely staring at you. Yeah, you were definitely ogling, and he was definitely noticing.

“You tell me,” you replied, then pushed him into the pool without really thinking. You probably wouldn’t have done it if you hadn’t just been caught looking at the man like he was a piece of meat, but you had been doing exactly that, and panicked.

After a moment, he resurfaced and spat out the water that he’d swallowed from your surprise movement. Yet, as he came back to the surface, he didn’t say anything to you.

You eyed him nervously while he began to approach you in the water, and you opened up your mouth to apologize just as you felt a hand wrap around your ankle. With a yelp, you were dragged down into the water, luckily dodging the ledge on your way down.

Coming back up, spat out the chlorinated water and coughed out what you’d swallowed. “I deserved that.”

“You definitely did,” he agreed, lightly splashing you with water from where he stood.

You splashed him right back, putting a little more effort in and splashing him with slightly more force. “But you also deserved that.”

“And why is that?” that overconfident look appeared on his face once more. Just twenty-four hours ago, if you’d seen that look, you’d probably want to knock it right off of him. Now, you were tempted to keep prodding.

“Because you were being a dick about smoking not that long ago,” you replied, getting a little closer to him and matching his look with your own confident gaze.

“Huh,” he hummed. “Fair enough.”

“So why’d you do it?”

“Who knows. Maybe I just really wanted a smoke. Maybe I wanted to catch the attention of the cute girl on the beach.”

“Shut up,” you replied with clear disbelief. “I like how you try to flatter your way out of every sticky situation.”

“I mean it.”

“So you thought annoying me was the best way to get my attention?”

“It worked, didn’t it?”

You couldn’t argue with that.

“What if I was allergic to cigarette smoke?”

“You weren’t.”

“What if I just didn’t react, then?”

“You did,” he said.

“Must’ve been fate,” you replied dryly.

“Must’ve,” he agreed earnestly. Immediately, you felt a tension in your chest, and you wondered if he felt the same way. You didn’t have a witty or sarcastic comeback, and his face was dangerously close to yours.

Unsure of what to do, you splashed him once more.

“What was that one for?”

For making me fall for you in the span of a day, you idiot.

You shrugged, unable to come up with a coherent answer with you realizing just how physically close the two of you were. Now that you were beginning to have a bit of clarity, you could hear the pounding of your heartbeat in your eardrums. Or maybe it was Patrick’s. With your bodies this close to each other, you couldn’t be too sure.

You wondered what was going through his mind, but if the quick glance to your lips and the bob of his Adam’s apple as he gulped was any indication of his thoughts, you were sure you were on the same page.

You found yourself in somewhat of a standoff as the two of you stood there, wordless and hearts pounding as you stood together in a freezing cold pool. You shut your eyes for a moment, and when you opened them, Patrick’s nose was practically pressing against yours. But just as you began to follow his lead, you were met with a blindingly bright flashlight.

“Hey!” a new voice yelled out, pulling the two of you out of your trance. “What’s going on here?”

Patrick’s eyes widened and you were sure yours did too.

“Shit, security,” you muttered to yourself as it occurred to you what was happening. The two of you immediately scurried to the side of the pool. “I don’t think they saw us, but they definitely heard us,” you whispered.

“Do you think you could outrun them?” he asked, matching your low tone as the light of the flashlight moved across the pool without

“What?”

“Come on,” he hoisted himself out of the pool and you did the same, trying your best to be quiet as the two of you grabbed your discarded clothes.

“Patrick…” you trailed off, glued to his side.

“Come on,” he repeated as he shepherded you to the fence. “I won’t let them get you. Now,” he gestured for you to come over so he could help you climb over again, and you did. As he climbed over, the security guard’s flashlight had finally caught up with the two of you.

“Hey!” the guard repeated, lunging in your direction just as Patrick made it over.

“Run!” you yelled at him as the two of you took off. All of that tennis training clearly paid off, as he was far faster than both you and the security guard.

“Get back here!” the guard shouted as he chased the two of you.

The two of you sprinted, your bare feet screaming at you as pebbles and sticks poked your soles. Running on pure adrenaline, you swore you could hear Patrick laughing as he ran ahead of you.

The two of you ended up by his car, parked safely at the country club. You desperately tried to catch your breath as you leaned against his car door, now completely sure that you’d lost the security guard who was chasing you.

“I hate you so much,” you got out in between panting heavily.

“No you don’t,” his chest rose and fell quickly as he corrected you.

“No I don’t,” you confirmed, taking satisfaction in hearing his heavy breaths next to you and knowing that you weren’t the only one affected by the chase.

It felt as if the two of you had been transported right back into the moment you were having in the pool, a heavy, undeniable tension settling over the two of you, with the adrenaline of the chase and your hearts still rapidly pumping blood from all that running. It was almost as if one second you were standing next to each other, and the next you were pinned up against his car door, kissing like your lives depended on it.

With one of his hands up your shirt, you somehow found the willpower to use the logical part of your brain. “Wait, stop,” you reluctantly said as you pulled away for air. “I don’t want another security guard chasing us.”

“They won’t,” Patrick insisted before leaning back in to kiss you.

“They will,” you disagreed, exerting all of your willpower to dodge his advance. “Take me home?”

Patrick’s hand sat securely on your thigh for the entire ride back to the beach house. With the tension between the two of you crackling and the excitement of successfully running away beginning to die down, the two of you were mostly quiet on your way over.

After he pulled into your driveway, he looked over at you with hesitance. If you didn’t know any better, you might even say that he looked a little nervous.

“Wanna come inside?” you broke the ice, knowing that was what he was surely thinking about, and just as you predicted, he seemed to light up at your invitation.

The heat of the moment seemed to have passed, with the two of you now safely in your home, and not coming off the heels of being chased down the street. Patrick sat on your living room couch while you poured two tumblers of a criminally expensive whiskey.

You returned to the living room and sat down on the far end of the couch, passing him one of the cups before extending your legs out. You were pleasantly surprised when he positioned your legs over his lap and began to soothingly rub up and down your calves.

“What a day,” you sighed, taking a long sip from your cup.

“You’re telling me,” he chuckled in response.

As you laid there, you realized that you were actually quite exhausted. A silence settled over you once more as you yawned, then Patrick yawned not too long after you.

“You know, you’re nothing like I expected you to be,” he said randomly.

“Oh?” you replied questioningly. “Should I be offended or flattered?”

“Up for interpretation,” he looked over to you to gauge your reaction, and you playfully pushed his thigh with your foot.

“Then I’m gonna interpret it in a good way.”

“I meant it in a good way,” he said after a beat.

You smiled softly as you peered at him. “I didn’t expect you to be like this, either. I actually had a lot of fun beating you in golf and running from security guards.”

“No way you’re still talking about golf after I absolutely demolished you in tennis,” he laughed, a sound that you’d grown rather fond of throughout the day.

“It was pretty amazing watching you play golf with such bad form. I don’t think I’ve ever seen someone use that many strokes on that course.”

“You wanna talk about bad form?” Patrick laughed again. “It’s a miracle you didn’t pull something when we played tennis.”

“Hey! My form is not that bad. You know I was in tennis lessons as a kid, right?”

“And how long ago was that?” he probed, looking at you with a suspicious raise of a brow.

You tried your best to do some mental math, but you were far too tired to be precise. “I mean, it was a while ago…?”

“Clearly,” he shook his head.

“Rude,” you replied, though your tone carried across you not really caring. “I’m still here for a few more weeks. Maybe you could teach me.”

“Only if you teach me how to get better at golf. I’m gonna have to impress my fellow board members someday.”

“Deal,” you agreed. Part of you wanted to leap for joy after establishing that this wasn’t some sort of one-and-done thing, and that you could at least see Patrick until you went back home.

You watched as he leaned further against the couch and tilted his head against the cushioned back of the piece of furniture, his eyes fluttering shut as he did so.

“Want to go sleep on a real bed? The guest room is clean,” you offered.

“No, I’m comfortable here,” he yawned and patted your calf. You didn’t believe him in this slightest, with his long limbs and less than ideal sleeping position. But you were quite comfortable, so you didn’t bother with insisting he leave the couch.

In the morning, you woke up in the same position that you’d fallen asleep in, with your legs draped over Patrick’s lap as he sat up and snored.

You did your best not to disturb him as you got up and went about your morning routine, taking a shower and changing into something comfortable before heading back downstairs. You were surprised to find Patrick somehow still upright and asleep on your couch, but you didn’t question it too much. It had been a long day and night.

You brewed some coffee in the kitchen, making sure to leave a portion for your guest, before you grabbed the book you’d been reading and headed out to sit on your portion of the beach.

You’d lost track of time while sitting out there, listening to the sound of the ocean and getting caught up in the contents of your book. In fact, you’d gotten so lost in your book, that you hadn’t even noticed that you’d gained a presence on the beach.

After Patrick cleared his throat, you turned to look at him. A smile grew on your face as the two of you locked eyes, and you scooted to the left on your oversized beach chair. Surely, there was enough space for both of you.

He took your invitation and sat down next to you, glancing between you and the ocean as he settled in. He wrapped an arm around your shoulder and occasionally peered down at your book, but otherwise didn’t bother you. The two of you fell into a comfortable rhythm, your chests rising and falling in sync with each other as the two of you lost track of time.

Maybe Patrick wasn’t such a terrible beach companion after all.

#patrick zweig x reader #patrick zweig #patrick zweig x you #challengers #challengers fanfic #josh o'connor x reader #art donaldson x reader

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borathae · 1 day

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"You both had a stressful day and relax with a warm bath. Soon the tension gets too much and you decide to do something about it."

Pairing: husband!Yoongi x f.Reader

Genre: married life!AU, Slice of Life Smut

Warnings: switch!Yoongi, switch!Reader, sharing of a bath, making out, lots of touches, nipple play for both, neck kisses, grinding, some dirty talk, praise, he keeps calling her beautiful :'), lotus position, cumming too soon (f. receiving), hair pulling (m. receiving), rimjob with him bend over the edge, handjob, he is just a devoted hubby who loves his wifey oh so much, she loves him just as much <3

Wordcount: 3.6k

a/n: boongles won the poll. you besties have spoken and i am here to deliver <3 i love this lil dude so much, you guys :(🤍 ps: i'm sorry for the delay, life got all too much and i didn't have the energy to finish it in time :(

Yoongi is relaxing in the bathtub when you disturb his precious peace.

“There you are.”

Yoongi peels one eye open, watching you undress without saying anything. You are talking as you get more and more naked, blind to his rather annoyed state.

“I literally had the weirdest day ever. First the bus driver refused my cash so I had to call a cab instead, then I went to work and nothing happened but then at lunch, I went to Nukim and my card declined. I had to run to the nearest ATM to get more money and broke my heel on the way back. So with one broken shoe and lots of embarrassment I had to continue working and now I’m cold because it’s really windy all of a sudden and I didn’t bring a coat. Oh wow, the water’s so nice. Mhm.”

And you are inside the bath, facing him.

He is still looking at you with only one eye, tapping his fingers on the edge of the tub. You finally let the situation sink in. He has a glass of whisky by his side and the candles burning. His favourite album to relax to is running in the background.

“Did you wanna be alone?”

“No, go ahead. I was just trying to catch a quiet hour”, he says sarcastically.

“I am so sorry. God, I didn’t think. I can leave again if you want me to.”

He dismisses you with a shake of his head, peeling himself off his comfortable position to kiss your cheek.

“Stay. It’s fine.”

“Really? I wouldn’t want to ruin your Me Time.”

“It’s fine. You’re already in the water now. I hope you don’t mind me being quiet though.”

“No, go ahead. Some quiet will do me well too.”

Yoongi relaxes again, picking up his glass of whiskey to take a sip. He enjoys it on his tongue, then swallows it with his eyes closing and his head falling back. He keeps both arms under water, relaxing his facial muscles.

You settle back as well, closing your eyes with a sigh. You feel comfortable in relaxing because you know that Yoongi was honest with you. He doesn’t mind that you are here because if he was, he would have told you. You had him telling you to leave him alone a few times in the past, so if he had minded he would have told you. He is honest like that, just as you are always honest with him. It’s what makes your marriage so nice and healthy.

You finish his relaxation album in silence and then Yoongi breaks it by moving around. You open your eyes. He is using his phone, bending over the edge of the bathtub this way. You try not, but still stare. He is sticking out his butt, giving view to his part most private. It looks so pretty and pink. You get glimpses of his balls as well. The warm water made them just as pink. You really want to run your tongue over him.

Yoongi settles back down after picking out the next album, meeting your eyes.

“Oop”, you let out, looking to the side quickly.

“Did you just ogle me?”

“No?” you lie with a nervous chuckle.

Yoongi cocks up his brow.

“Maybe”, you confess, lowering your head, “sorry, I couldn’t resist.”

“You’re so dirty sometimes”, he mumbles and relaxes again, closing his eyes.

Now that this conversation is over, you need a few moments to relax as well. You don’t have dirty thoughts per say, but you still don’t want to settle back anymore. The twenty minutes of silence you shared before were already enough to bring you down and now you are craving conversation. But you know better than to disturb him. So you are left gawking at him and wishing for time to pass quicker.

You stay like this for four songs and then Yoongi sits up to drink. He meets your eyes, covering his chest.

“Why are you staring so much?” he whines.

“Sorry, I don’t know. I guess I got bored.”

“And staring at me is fun?”

“Immensely actually. You’re really pretty.”

He scoffs and looks away, reaching for his whiskey. He settles back, drinking it with his eyes racing over your face. He swallows, sits up and gets close. Like this, your thighs are touching and he can run his hand down your waist.

“Your eyes are gonna get stuck if you stare that much”, he whispers with a playful gleam in his eyes.

“No, they won’t”, you chuckle, “you doofus.”

He chuckles lazily and sips his whiskey. You look at his lips as he does it. He swallows, licks his lips, enjoying the attention with a fluttering pulse.

“Do you want a sip?”

You nod your head.

Yoongi hands you his glass, staring at your lips as you drink from it. You swallow, following it up with a grimace. He laughs, brushing the back of his hand down your cheek.

“You’re cute.”

“It’s good, it’s just strong.”

“Mhm yeah definitely. I felt like it today. Work was stressful.”

“I already figured. Do you want to rant?”

“Nothing happened. It was just really stressful and left me with a headache.”

“Oh no, I’m sorry. Do you want me to massage you?”

He dismisses you with a shake of his head, “it’s already gone. It was strong when I came home, but it’s gone now.”

“I’m glad”, you say and rub his arms.

Yoongi finishes his whiskey, putting his glass aside before returning to you. He places both hands on your waist, kneading it gently.

“Your day was weird, you said?”

“Yeah, really weird. So many annoying things happen.”

“Mhm, they sound annoying. Do you still have your shoes?”

“Yeah, they’re broken by the door. I thought maybe you could take a look at them.”

“I’ll take a look at them.”

“Thank you so much, honey.”

“Of course.”

“Did you have dinner already?”

“Not yet, I wasn’t hungry. You?”

“No, I thought maybe we could cook together. You know, with it being Friday and us having no work tomorrow.”

He smiles with his eyes, nodding his head, “I’d like that”, he says and looks at your lips. He rubs the side of your neck, gazing oh so longingly.

The attention makes your heart race. You touch his shoulders, waiting for him to make the next move.

“You’re so beautiful”, he speaks softly, caressing your cheek just once before returning to your neck.

“Oh wow.” Your heart flutters. “You’re so beautiful too, my honey.”

His eyes soften more.

“May I?” he asks.

“What do you want to do?”

“Kiss you.”

“Oh. Yeah, you can kiss me.”

Yoongi leans in, getting lost in the kiss with you. He tastes of whiskey at first, but soon you have it kissed away and only his taste remains. This is so nice to both of you. The water is still warm, the music is relaxing, the touches you share are placed so perfectly right. It couldn’t get any better than this.

He feels so good under your fingertips. His skin is so soft, his body so warm. You can’t get enough of exploring him, tingling like crazy because he can’t seem to get enough of you either.

Your bodies draw closer as the minutes pass. When you started out, your middles were far apart, by now they are melted together. His thighs are under yours, his hands are either kneading your waist or lingering under your breasts. Neither he nor you have acted on the sudden closeness, but you can’t deny that it is starting to enchant you just a little.

You hope that Yoongi feels the same, giving him a silent signal by brushing your fingers over his nipples. He purrs deeply, pulling your hips closer in a way that grinds your heat against him. His big hand cups your breast afterwards, finally kneading it the way you wanted him to. He took the hint, communicating his own feelings with just a touch.

You and he feel the same. No words are needed, just skilled touches and needy sounds. You keep your own fingers busy with his nipples, pinching and massaging them as you and he fall into a tongue kiss. His purrs become more and more. He is so sexy in the way he shows his enjoyment. You can’t get enough of all the deep, throaty sounds he makes when you are feeling him up just right.

You answer him with your own needy noises, driving him just a little wild with them. He loves your sounds. They’re better than any kind of music ever could be. He breaks the tongue kiss to kiss your neck instead. He craves more of your noises and neck kisses always do the trick. This evening is no different. With just the first devoted kiss to your skin, you sigh his name, giving him better access by rolling your head to the side. Yoongi lets his breath swirl over your skin as he kisses you, rolling his hips against you slowly as his hands feel up your torso and his lips place kisses all the way from your ear to your shoulder.

He changes sides when your breath begins hitching in your throat and your fingers keep sliding down his tummy only to stop when they remember that you don’t have permission to touch yet. He won’t give it to you yet, wanting to bask in you a little longer. Kisses to your neck, feeling your torso and grinding against your warmth is all that he needs, while you are meant to enjoy it because you are his goddess and he is there to shower you in bliss.

He is happy to share this bath with you. His initial distaste of having his silence disturbed ceased to exist the moment you and he shared quiet and he became utterly excited to have you with him. Yoongi really likes baths with you. They are both relaxing and sometimes lead to good, intimate sex. He can really calm down from a stressful day like this, finding great happiness in it because he can make you feel good as well.

He straightens up, breaking the string of saliva connecting him with your marked neck by licking his lips. He soothes the hickeys with rubs of his thumb, gazing at you.

“Feels good”, you get out breathily, barely keeping your eyes open.

“Feels good?” he makes sure.

You nod your head, whimpering.

His eyes soften, he cradles your cheek.

“You’re beautiful”, he whispers, making you shiver with just his words. So he does it again, he praises you, “you’re so fucking beautiful.”

You melt into him, burying your hands in his hair to pull him into a kiss. Yoongi moans, giving you access to his mouth instantly. You know just to kiss him to scramble his mind and get him purring just for you. The heat between your legs increases, the speed of your grinds does as well. Soon it is almost unbearable to handle and the kiss breaks with needy mewls from both of you.

“I really need to-”

“Just do it, I want it”, Yoongi interrupts you, tugging at your hips.

This is all you needed. You climb atop his lap and sink him into you, tilting his head back with a tug to his hair so you could taste his initial moan. He always gets noisy when he sinks inside. Tonight’s no different. He has his eyes barely open, taking what you give him with parted lips. He bottoms out soon enough, whispering a quiet “fuck” as his hands dimple your buttocks.

“Mine”, you whisper, picking up a needy rhythm.

Yoongi rolls his eyes back and closes them completely, choking out a breathy “yours”.

“Say it again.”

“Yours…all yours…”

“Fuck Yoongi, I’m obsessed with you”, you moan and drop your forehead against his’, chasing the ecstasy of being with him in needy grinds. Like this, his cock is so deep and because you never bounce on him, he also never stops rubbing against your favourite spot. His tummy puts pressure on your clit, adding electric bliss to the connection. Fuck, he’s got you charged. Everything about this feels so fucking good.

Yoongi groans, dragging them out until he has to gasp for new air. The tug on his hair is addictive, tasting your shaky breaths on his lips is making him dizzy. He is yours. He really fucking is. No one has ever gotten and will ever get him as hard as you get him. He’s addicted with every second, looking forward to the next one the moment the last passed. He wishes for this to never stop. He loves to love you in such ways.

His hands are on your hips, helping you move as much as they are trying to keep you moving. He would pass out if you stopped right now. It feels so good that missing out on even one second would be torture. The bath warmed you up so much that your soft walls are burning in the best way possible. Not even the hottest bath water could warm him up as much as you can.

“Feels so good”, he chokes out.

“Yeah, feels so good”, you agree breathlessly.

He shivers, “oh god, I missed you”, he chokes out with his voice just slightly pitched.

“Yoongi”, you croak, suddenly losing every kind of composure as his sappy confession throws you over a surprise edge, “fuck, oh god.”

Yoongi opens his eyes, holding his breath.

“Are you?”

“Yes”, you scrunch your face, hiding it in his shoulder a second later, “you fucking sap, urgh.”

Yoongi chuckles, helping you ride it out with gentle guidance. He really didn’t expect you to climax so soon, but he doesn’t dislike it. It turns him on so good to know that he can make you lose control so soon.

“You’re the sap”, he teases, earning himself a nudge to his chest the moment your high died down.

“You’re awful, fuck”, you get out as you catch your breath.

“Why?” he laughs.

“Cause you made me lose control.”

“So?”

“Brat”, you say and sink into him, “fuck, that just fucked me. Wow.”

“Mhm, I could feel it”, he says, sliding his hands to your ass to squeeze it, “was it nice for you?”

“Yeah, so nice.”

“I’m glad to hear that, my honey. Uhm. Can I maybe have one too?”

“Mhm, you’re so sexy”, you purr, peeling yourself off of him despite your dizzy head, “I want you to bend over the edge. Okay?”

He gulps, nodding his head obediently.

“Good boy”, you praise, slipping off his cock. “Go on.”

Yoongi scrambles to his knees and bends over the edge, arching his back.

“You know why I want you like this, don’t you?” you ask him, rubbing his hips as you place yourself behind him. His butt looks so yummy. You can’t wait to dig in.

“Yeah”, he sighs, resting his head on the edge in preparation. He already has his eyes closed and you haven’t even started yet.

“And that’s okay with you?” you make sure just in case.

“Yeah, so okay.”

“You drive me insane, seriously.”

With his clear consent, you finally lean down, swirling your tongue down his spine until you have his hole under it. You swerve past it just to rile him up, kissing and licking the back of his thighs until your tongue naturally feels his balls under it.

“Mhm, my honey”, you purr, sucking on his tender skin while your hands massage his hips.

“Nice”, he sighs, feeling warm all over. He loves your mouth on him. He really does. You always tease him, saying that he likes it a little too much, but Yoongi won’t let it faze him. He does love it a little too much, but how couldn’t he? When you are so skilled in everything you do.

“Mhm, so nice. So fucking nice”, you whisper between your adoration. You nuzzle into him, giving his balls a little kiss before you finally incorporate your tongue as well. You want to trace every inch of them with the tip of your tongue. He deserves it for being the cutest.

Yoongi shivers, finding it just a little bit more difficult to breathe. He has really sensitive balls and your tongue tickles in the kind of way where he wants to tense up because otherwise it’s too difficult to handle.

“You’ve got the prettiest balls, my honey”, you lull, sighing happily as you guide your tongue up to his taint.

One flick. Two flicks. You move further up with the third flick, swirling your tongue around his hole without touching it.

Yoongi can’t help but squirm and keen a giggle.

“Heh”, you let out, smiling against him, “needy?”

“Needy, yeah.” He sticks his butt out more. “Please.”

“You’re such a delight, fuck”, you purr and finally give him what you denied him for way too long. You press your tongue to his hole, exploring it in circular motions.

Yoongi moans loudly and presses back onto you, feeling a whole body shiver course through him. The short moment where he was outside the water and you licked him everywhere but his hole, cooled him down so much that your tongue feels like addictive fire on his rim now that he finally has it.

“Good?”

“Good, good, yeah good. Ah-ahmm.”

You purr and hum deliciously, tracing his rim with just your tip. His noises encourage you so fucking much. He tastes a hundred times yummier when he’s that vocal.

“Good, so good. Ah, ah aah…”

This is better than you had imagined it to be. He is so goddamn yummy. Every inch of him and especially on his pretty rim. You break away to rile him up with your words. Make him needy again, take it away so he whines.

He whines. Of course he does.

“I've wanted to do this to you ever since I first watched you bend over.”

Yoongi mewls, sticking his butt closer to your face. If you don’t return soon, he will start cursing.

“You’ve got the yummiest butt, my honey”, you purr, burying yourself back in his peach. You moan throatily, flicking your tongue up and down his hole in sync with your hand slipping to his front. You pick up his cock, jerking it off quickly.

“Fuck, ah…fuck”, Yoongi moans, wheezing for air as you make his legs twitch and shake. He expected anything but this and it’s ruining him.

“Like it?” you ask, swirling your tongue quickly.

“Yeah, like it”, he mewls, fucking back onto your tongue as much as he fucks your fist. He won’t last long like this. It is already amazing enough to have you eat his ass, a handjob on top of that is way too fucking powerful for poor, little Yoongi.

“Like it too, you taste so good. Fuck, Yoongi.”

You put pressure on his rim. It gives up embarrassingly fast, allowing your tongue to wiggle inside the first inch. It’s not enough to graze his prostate, it’s not even enough to really fill him, but it still gives him a gentle stretch and Yoongi loves that. He keens your name, thanking you even when he is so utterly out of breath. His cock is twitching in your hand. Your touch is sending constant hot electricity down his legs.

Encouraged by his noises, you keep the rhythm going, feeling on ecstasy yourself. To think that there were times in your marriage where butts were a no-no-zone. That you and he really went years without exploring this area. Oh, you missed out on so much fun.

You increase the skill, wanting him to catch up on all the fun he missed out. You might have started off late, but you are hellbent on making up for it. He needs his ass ate as if it was your last fucking meal. You slurp, you growl, you suck and feast loudly. And he is shivering over and over again, hearing his pulse in his ears.

“Holy fuck, it feels so good. How are you doing that?” he moans, trembling when you purr into him and pick up speed.

You can do even better. This is what you are trying to tell him right now. You will outdo yourself even if it steals your air and makes your arm beg for a break. You will get him to a point of complete loss of control, where he can only shake and writhe and wail your name. You will and you are.

And Yoongi falls into his most natural state: moaning your name repeatedly until the only vowels his brain knows are yours.

It takes Yoongi seven more strokes and then he announces his orgasm with a pitched moan, followed with whole body shakes and graphic curses about how good it feels. You moan with him, helping him ride it out with skilled touches and your tongue pumping in and out of him. You keep it going until he begins fleeing, doing so with shaky gasps for air.

“No, no more. No more.”

“Mhhm, My yummy peach”, you lull, soothing him with kisses up his spine and your hands rubbing his tummy.

“You’re insane, seriously”, he pants, resting his forehead on the edge of the bathtub while his hands tangle over it. He is still twitching occasionally, recovering oh so very slowly.

You snicker, “yeah, most definitely and you like that I am.”

He scoffs, chuckling deeply, “fuck, I can’t even deny it.”

“Gosh Yoongi”, you back hug him, nuzzling your cheek against his upper back, “I love you.”

“I love you too.”

He straightens up and turns, hugging you against his chest. You melt with him, humming contently.

“What a way to de-stress”, he says, “wow, I’m done for.”

“Yeah, what a way”, you agree with a smile.

“Sooo, what’s for dinner?” he asks jokingly, making you laugh.

“I mean, I already started with dessert so whatever you want.”

He laughs.

“Don’t say that”, he whines.

“Why?”

“Cause, I’m shy”, he mumbles with an obvious pout.

“Gosh, you cutie you.”

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imaginaryf1shots · 3 days

Text

Neighbour Pt.2 | Lando Norris

WC: 2222 weird

Lando x Reader

Part 1

Summery: (Requested) When your ex comes to your office looking for you and you call the only person you can think of.

Warning: Cursing, toxic ex

Masterlist

Not edited or proofread

Maybe it’s because of how your friendship started, or maybe it’s just how he is, but Lando is very protective of you. And not it the way that's overly possessive like your ex, or controlling. No. Lando is out of the country most of the year, you work in Monaco, yes you don’t have to go in everyday but that’s where you work. So when he’s out of the country he’s satisfied with a text telling him you’ve reached the office, or that you’re home safe. Monaco may be safe, but you can’t be 100% sure. And your ex coming to your door on the first time you two actually talked wasn’t something that’s comforting.

Lando was in Monaco at the moment and you had to go to the office to grab something, Lando dropped you off and said he’ll go see Max until you’re done, Monte Carlo is small enough for him to make it to your office in a record time.

You were caught in a gossip session with some of your colleagues, your voices hushed and giggle-y at the tea being spilled for the group of you. The office was quiet for the day and everyone was doing their things ignoring the group of you, but it made it easier for loud noises to be noticed. So when your ex was at the reception calling your name, everyone heard it. The office is mainly females working in it, all eyes went wide and looked at you, there’s barely 10 of you there right now, it’s lunch break after all. You froze knowing instantly who it is.

”Shit.” You mutter once you snap out of it one of your co-workers had her hand on your shoulder, they all huddled closer around you as you heard the voice of the receptionist shouting back at him. You quickly pressed Lando’s contact name in your favourites pressing the phone with shakes hands to your ear.

”Hey baby, want me to come pick you up now?” Lando’s lighthearted voice filled your ear.

”L-Lando.” Your voice was shaky and you were stuttering, your eyes not moving from the door, waiting for when your ex rounds the corner and barges into the main work area.

“What? What’s wrong?” He asked instantly, hearing your voice, he was already up from the sofa and taking his keys, Max gave him a questioning look but Lando payed him no attention.

”Scott’s here.” You manage to get out, clutching your phone harder.

”That cunt, I’ll be there as fast as I can.” Lando already slipped his shoes on and was on his way to the parking lot to get his car.

”Lando, I’m scared.” You mutter tears gathering in your eyes.

”Don’t be, I’ll be right there, baby, just a couple minutes.” Lando tried to comfort you as much as he could, he’s steaming. He may have broken a few laws on his way to you but he doesn’t care, his only focus right now is to get to you as fast as he can. You stopped responding to him, but the call was still connected, he could hear more screaming, a lot of females but also Scott’s voice. It's just as loud and just as annoying as when he came to your house all those weeks ago. Lando’s hands turned white from how hard he was gripping the wheel, he half parked the car and ran out of it, not bothering to lock it. Running inside the office he sees the reception desk empty, but he follows the sound of shouting. He sees Scott’s back, you’re in front of him, six girls are beside you, some others are on the side watching with fear in their eyes, in fact if he looked closely even the ones around you held some fear in their eyes. Girls stand up for girls but that doesn’t mean they hold no fear. In quick steps Lando’s behind Scott, your eyes barely sees him before Lando’s hand lands on Scott’s shoulder and he pulls him back as hard as he could. Scott is caught off guard and stumbles back, he almost falls onto his ass. Lando is in front of you the next second, giving you a once over. Every woman in the room looks relieved of his presence. Lando looks over your co-workers before he turns to look at Scott.

”What the fuck man?” Scott is shouting fixing his clothes, he looks Lando up and down and scoffs.

”Stay away from my girlfriend, you fucking asshole.” Lando’s voice has never been this serious, his words held weight in them, Lando may not be as tall as Scott but he’s tone, he works out and he knows how to throw a punch.

”Girlfriend, you? Look bro, she’s my girlfriend okay, we’re just having a little disagreement.” Scott didn’t think that Lando is your type and in his sick head he got himself convinced that you’re just using Lando to get back at him.

”I don’t remember cheating being called disagreements.” Lando says sarcastically, he crossed his arms and stared Scott down. “Look here, mate, y/n, is my girlfriend. She broke up with you months ago, so just move on, because whatever you think you’ll be doing by coming here will never happen.”

”y/n you’re just going to let him talk to me like that?” Scott turns his sights onto you and you instantly tense up, Lando however steps in front of you cutting Scott’s visions from you.

”Look, this is the last time I’ll tell you this, but don’t talk to y/n, don’t call her, don’t text her, don’t come to her house or her work, don’t even think about her, or I swear to god you’ll never see the light of day again okay? or are you too slow to understand it? I can write it down for you.” Lando has a sarcastic smile on his face, this is a different side of the man you haven’t seen before. Your bright, happy boyfriend is gone and in his place stood this guy that’s about to beat your toxic cheating ex up and eat him for dinner. Sexy. Not the right time, but… sexy.

“What’s wrong with you man? Why do you care so much?” Scott asked, he’s voice taking another turn now, he’s more scared, he realised that Lando is being serious and that he cares about you and there’s no getting to you now.

”Because I fucking love her you idiot, piss off willl you?” Scotts stands there blinking for a few seconds before he scrambles away. Once he is out of the room Lando turns to look at you once more, he ignores the looks he’s getting from the other women and just gives all his focus to you. Lando cups your cheeks his eyes taking you in. “Are you okay, my love?”

”Y-yeah.” You squeak out still not over the shock of what you just saw and heard.

”I think you should take her home.” One of your friends says and hands Lando your things, she gives you a hug and a sympathetic look before Lando laces his hands with yours and holds your things in his other one, and you’re out of the office and to his Audi parked in front. With your things in the back and you strapped in, Lando starts on his drive back home, his hand not leaving your thigh. His eyes are on the road once he’s moving but every time he stops he just looks at you, and you’re just looking at him, your hands holding the one he had on your thigh. You don’t talk until he’s parked the car and turned in his seat to look at you.

”Are you sure you’re okay?” Lando asks you softly, and you nod, not opening your mouth to speak. “You’re quiet.”

”Did you mean it?” You ask him suddenly, feeling nervous and it shows, your eyes are no longer looking at him and your hands are fiddling.

“What do you mean?” Lando’s confused, he raises your chin up slightly and you meet his beautiful but confusing eyes.(like what colour are they really?) You don’t speak but Lando seems to realise what you’re hinting at, at least he thinks he does. “The girlfriend thing? look I know we’re not dating it just-“

”No, not that, you said you love me.” You say timidly now fearing that you thought too much into it and he just said it to get your ex to back off.

”I-uh, I did, I do.” Lando swallowed, you’re not even dating and he’s said the ‘L’ word to you, he feels stupid but it just spilled out. Doesn’t make it untrue. Lando had it all planned out in his head, he was giving you time to get over your ex, then he was going to ask you out, go on dates, ask you to a few races and then tell you he loved you.

”Really?”

”Really.” Your smile surprised the brit, he wasn’t expecting this reaction out of you, he found himself smiling with you.

”Well, I love you too.” You whisper, unable to stop smiling, Lando giggles at your smiley and blush-ey state.

”I’m going to kiss you love.”

”Please.” Lando’s lips touched yours the moment the word left your mouth. You felt a shiver run down your spine, Lando’s hands found their home just under your jaw, pulling you in. You don’t know how long you sat there making out with each other, but when you pulled back you were both breathless, trying to catch your breath.

”Guess I can start calling you my girlfriend now.” Lando says with a cheeky smile on his face, you laugh and open the car door.

”I guess so, boyfriend.”

”Fucking hell, I’m so lucky.”

Getting with you didn’t go as Lando had planned but he’s happy nonetheless, and everyone can see it, his team saw how happy he looked those days, the fans could see it, his friends and family could see it and it only became obvious to them once you made your first paddock appearance with Lando. His hand was laced in yours, a smile on each of your faces. It didn’t take long for the fans to find out who you were, your social media accounts were private but you got a torrent of requests after they were leakes, all going ignored. You and Lilly, Oscar’s girlfriend, got on well with each other. Often seen having a meal or hanging out when your boyfriends were working.

The thing that no one could deny is how happy you make Lando, he's always smiling with you, he’s pictured hugging you a lot, Alex even posted a picture of him sleeping in your lap while they were waiting to film something.

The first time the fans see an in-look to your relationship is when you’re filmed for a Quadrant video, you decide to follow Lando’s routine for a day, and man is he soft for you, always making sure you’re okay and not pushing yourself. He did enjoy when you hugged him for warmth in the cryotherapy after the training. After that one got on well with the fans you were more in Quadrant videos and seen in the back of his streams.

A few months into dating, you moved in with Lando, your stuff moved into his house gradually anyways. Whenever he was in Monaco that’s where you spent all your time.

One of your favourite moments is when Lando got his first win, man were you over the moon, you were crying and smiling at the same time. The kiss you shared under the podium is photographed and you have hung in your apartment. That moment you have treasured and held so close to you. You’re so happy you got to share this moment with him and be there for him on his journey to that first win and the man after it.

”Remember when you first moved in?” You ask Lando one morning, you’re both in bed basking in the silence you have for yourself.

”Yeah, who knew then that the crazy woman shouting at me in french would end up being my wife one day.” Lando teased you, his head was on your shoulder, he left small kisses there, his eyes were closed as he held you close.

”I wasn’t crazy, and almost all of my neighbours spoke French, also you were so loud.” You remember the sleepless nights you had because of him and you shudder. “But I’m glad you moved in.”

”Me too.” Lando finally opens his eyes and pulls away just enough to see your face. “I love you.”

”I love you too.” You say and lean up to meet his lips.

”DADDY! Cisca is bothering me.” The voice of your boy interrupted your moment, you both falling on the bed, and your door opens before two pairs of feet run in the room.

”No I didn’t, I swear.” The twins have made their entrance, which was your que for the day to begin.

”What happened, love?”

“She came in my room and started going through my toys that you-“

Your kids went on and on about what happened, but there’s one thing that’s going through your mind.

This isn't so bad.

Main taglist:

@gnatthefly . @mochimommy2002

#f1 imagine #f1 fanfic #f1 scenario #f1 x reader #lando norris #lando norris one shot #lando norris imagine #lando norris x reader #lando x reader #lando imagine #ln4 #ln4 x reader #ln #ln4 x y/n #f1 fic #f1 #formula 1 imagine #formula 1 x reader

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ladyloveandjustice · 2 days

Text

When I checked to tag to confirm his favorite food that in the tag I see people arguing "Shuro's not a misogynist!!! He's not sexist!!! he said he loves Falin's mind!!!" and guys. he's sexist. That doesn't mean you can't like him or anything, or that he's irredeemable, I wouldn't call him a misogynist as in "he hates women", but:

"ORDINARY WOMEN HATE BUGS AND THINK THEY'RE GROSS AND ICKY AND SCREAM...YET FALIN LOVES BUGS? THE SPECIALEST GIRL IN THE UNIVERSE!" #notlikeothergirls

(very funny to say it about a caterpillar too, since those are not bugs people are most commonly scared of or disgusted by compared to other ones)

He again shows a kind of condescending sexism even in post-series comics:

Pretty rich for a guy with an all female group of bodyguards! He's talking to someone who's very capable of defending herself. It's a weird cognitive dissonance he has here, one that's not really shown by other people in the manga! One thing that's cool about Dunmeshi is there's really not much "women are like this, men at like this, women have to be protected" language and women are casually treated in a fairly equal manner...except when Shuro is talking. It's pretty clearly a deliberate thing.

On top of that, he really did make Falin his manic pixie dream girl, and that's undeniable. He says he likes her mind and that's great, but in reality he barely knows her and his view of her is very founded the ideal he's built her into. First of all, he doesn't really seem to accept Laios would be part of his life if they got married, because he seems to assume Falin would leave him and everything she cares about behind, which she definitely wouldn't have done at this point in her life. Nor does he tell the two most important people to her about his plan to rescue her. He does a lot of things we know Falin wouldn't care for in her name. I think he matures a bit over the course of the manga, but I don't think he sees her actual quirks and flaws (which he might find annoying) the way Laios and Marcille do.

I've seen people excusing this with "he's repressed/ he's Japanese" which uuuuh. Not a great look to say we can't expect a Japanese man to be as "enlightened" as their European friends. Again, Shuro has grown up with a ton of women around. His indirect nature and issues with his childhood might be why he keeps his distance from them, but odds are one of the ninja girls doesn't mind bugs, or another one of his allies in the dungeon world. He did grow up in a fairly patiarchal household, but he is surrounded by women he could get to know, and very capable female fighters both in his adventurers party and his homelife. So theres no excuse for him to treat Falin as delicate or put her on a pedestal compared to his assumptions about other women.

Again. this doesn't make him irredeemable. I'd call it subconcious sexism rather than actively hating women, a thin line sometimes, but significant in the likelihood of capacity to change. I feel like if someone pointed it out to him he'd at least give it some thought or maybe try to reconcile with it. But excusing the flaw doesn't do anything for his character. Just because you like him doesn't mean he doesn't have issues.

#dungeon meshi

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xsleepinggoodx · 3 days

Text

Mikey x reader short drabble!

timeskip: 19 year old Mikey. Yknow that one Mikey before manila? The one with the short blond hair? That one!🥰

Slight NSFW warning!

………………………………………………………………………………

You and Mikey were in the most heated make out sessions you ever been in. In his garage room, in his bed, on his lap, and door locked. The tension was real. His shirt was off and his veiny arms were around your waist, squeezing every so often. Your hand cupping his cheeks as you both fought for dominance—he wins every time though.

You letting out whimpers every so often as unravels you. Your hips grinding from time to time. You guys done it before, but not really often. You’re busy with college as he is he. He spends time hanging out with Toman, you’re there too ofc, but every so often, you two share intimate stares. He’s drilling his eyes on you when you’re laughing with Baji or Mitsuya. You’re admiring him as he tells a funny story. Again, the tension is there but you guys simply didn’t have alone time together, especially not sexually.

Now you guys finally were able to hang out, alone. Telling him stories from your college as he listens, replying with similar stories, him telling you crazy moments from his fights with Toman. Playing games with him, reading together. But it just got so heated, his loving gaze on you as you read the book and when you finally looked at him back, he pounced.

That’s how it led you guys here, tongues wrapping around each other as saliva drips down your lips. When you final let go for air, panting heavily with your lovesick eyes, he smiles lovingly as he catches his own breath.

“You said you had a bad day?” You asked, tracing his collarbone.

“I already told you about it, I really don’t wanna think about it.” He pouts, already rolling his eyes.

He told you about how annoying this one gang was, the leader trashed his bike terribly. Now it was in Draken’s motor shop in repair, he couldn’t ride it for a week.

“How bout I help you relieve some stress?” You asked innocently. “You always help me…I wanna make you feel good..” you said, your eyes resting. He

He looked confused but then it finally clicked.

“Baby, you don’t have to-“ he started before he got interrupted.

“But I want to, I wanna make you feel good..please~?” You stared at him, with your begging eyes. Oh your eyes, only if you knew how much he adored and admired you.

He nodded slowly. “Please baby, I need you.”

You giggled as you got on top of him, your hips sitting on his. His head looking up at you as you captured his lips again, before trailing your soft lips down his chin, neck, finally his chest. You sat up and clutched the hem of your shirt.

“Do you want me to take it off?” You said, teasingly.

“You really don’t have to.” He said hesitantly.

“Mikey~~” you teased as you giggled.

“Yes please” he begged shamefully. You knew Mikey was good with his words, getting him to beg was always tough, but you knew how to melt him. That’s why he loved you so much, you always challenged him. Which is not something he received often. You smiled as you chucked taking your shirt off, revealing your baby pink bra. The bra stap perfectly falling off your left shoulder.

You smiled as he admired your face, then his eyes traveled down, admiring your goddess-like body. He always knew he hit the jackpot, but now it’s official. He couldn’t help himself as he rose up and kissed you, trailing down your chin, then to your neck. Leaving hickies behind. You let out a soft hum as he continues, nipping your sweet spot, his hands where they were once on your waist were now softly cupping your breast.

He grinds his hips on yours, earning whimpers from you.

“Fuck, I love you so much, baby” he said, his voice muffled from his attacks on your cleavage. You softly scratched your fingers through his messy golden hair. Rewarding yourself with his kisses.

“I l-love you too~” you said. Love honeyed your voice. You were definitely down bad for him. The best part is that so was he….

…………………………………………………………………………….

Enjoy everyone, sorry I didn’t go all the way. I’m not confident in my NSFW writing skills🫣

#tokyo revengers x reader #manjiro sano x reader #mikey x reader #tokyo revengers mikey #manjiro sano #Mikey x reader best ship

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thedovesaredying · 1 day

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Monsters in the Dark | Nikto x Reader | Part 3

Third chapter of the Cowboy!Nikto series. Nikto has some emotions and has no idea what they mean or how to deal with them. Original Cowboy concept based on the AU by @ghouljams

A/N: Finally got enough time to work on this chapter after weeks and weeks of hectic stress with work and university. Thank you to all of those still following along with the story, I'll hopefully have the next part out soon. Fun fact: The story of a horse getting hurt running into a fence because they were so excited to see someone is from one of the silly yearlings at uni lol.

Warnings: Minor medical proceedures, Nikto getting a little jealous.

Masterlist: CoD Masterlist

First | Previous | Next

Nikto can’t help wondering if there’s anything that can ruin your seemingly perpetual good mood. Even with your body dripping with sweat and elbow deep inside of a cow, you’re still somehow grinning brightly at the farmer standing beside you. Doing a part of your job that some would consider... unpleasant at best, you’re able to act as if it’s the most exciting thing you’ve ever done.

One of the other farm hands, a man about your age, if a year or two older, is acting a little too interested in what you’re doing, however, and Nikto’s jaw is aching with how hard he’s grinding his teeth together. They make a soft groaning sound as they suffer under the pressure he’s subjecting them to, but unfortunately, it’s the only thing keeping him from snapping at “Darren” when the man crowds close to you with what he must think is a suave grin.

“Alright, I can feel the cervix now,” you hum, and he can see the way your arm twists slightly within the animal, “it’s pretty easy to manoeuvre it around.” You frown to yourself, seemingly oblivious to the way that annoying brat leans a little closer, “the reproductive tract isn’t very heavy.”

“And what’s that mean, darlin’?” Darren asks, and Nikto can’t decide what he hates more, the tone the other man is using to address you, or the way he thinks it’s okay to place a hand on your shoulder. The gelding underneath Nikto snorts, shifting uncertainly as he likely senses the tension brewing.

“Oh,” you blink at Darren, as if only just noticing him for the first time, “normally you wouldn’t be able to move the cervix around so easily if she was carrying a calf, I’d be able to feel at least a little weight to it.” You reach a little further into the cow, taking a few moments longer before adding, “I can also feel the horns of her uterus, and there’s no fluid I can feel inside them.”

Darren is nodding, but his gaze is far from focused on the animal or what you’re actually saying to him.

You pull you hand slowly from the cow, removing the palpation glove and dropping it into the bin beside the cattle crush. “Looks like this girl’s open, I’m afraid,” you say, grabbing the can of cattle paint and spraying a bright green streak across the animal’s tail, “and that’s the last of the girls done.”

Pulling the release lever, the heifer is let out of the crush and into the holding pen with the rest of the females you’ve checked for pregnancies. While most of them have little blue marks to indicate a successful insemination, a few of the younger ones weren’t lucky enough to take this time around.

Darren looks as though he’s about to say something further (more than likely something stupid and obnoxious), but before he can do anything more than puff up his chest, Mr. Roberts is snapping at him.

“Darren! Get your ass into the paddock, boy!” The old man has a scowl on his face that would have recruits shaking in their boots and a voice with a harsh snarl to it from years of smoking. “The hell do I bother paying you for?” he grumbles, watching as the younger man near enough trips over himself in his haste to get back to work.

Nikto can’t help admiring the man for his no nonsense approach to his work. He’s friendly enough toward those who work for him, and when Nikto was looking for employment, took him on board with no questions asked. The elderly cowboy has made it clear that he could care less about where someone comes from, only that they can do an honest day’s hard work.

“Well, thank you for giving us a hand with the ladies,” the old man’s tone softens drastically, and he offers you a firm handshake, “I know those big business farms have all that fancy new technology and blood tests to make checking for calves easier, but I much prefer the old method.”

Although he would never admit it aloud, it’s rather… sweet, the way you beam at Mr. Roberts and nod along to his words. “Of course! A blood test would be useful for determining how long the baby’s been gestating for, but there’s nothing wrong with the palpation method to find out if they’re carrying anything.”

Roberts seems pleased by your response, offering you an elusive smile, before giving you one final nod, “I’ll see you around town in a few days, and I’ll drop your payment off at the clinic.”

There are a few final pleasantries exchanged, all of which Nikto ignores. He was supposed to be getting the horse tacked down and set out for the day. Getting distracted by you while doing your job was just an unfortunate happenstance. He urges the gelding onward with a gentle tap to the animal’s side, leaving you to the business of packing up all of your tools in peace.

He dismounts once reaching the stable, giving the horse a firm pat on the shoulder before leading him into one of the nearest stalls. He can’t know for certain if anyone else will need Murphy before the end of the day, seeing as the horse belongs to Roberts, but the least he can do is ensure he’s comfortable until he’s turned out for the end of the day.

While “Murphy” isn’t exactly a name that Nikto would have chosen for a horse, given it’s a little too human for his own tastes, apparently, the gelding was named after Murphy’s Law, seeing as the poor animal seems to constantly be getting into trouble. Anything that could possibly go wrong for him can and will. He’s only just recovered from a nasty gash he’d received to the front of his chest after getting a little too excited to see Nikto coming to greet him and crashing directly into a barbed wire fence.

Nikto starts untacking Murphy, starting with the bridle and moving his way backwards. He gives the gelding a quick brushing down and picks out his hooves to ensure there’s no stones or injuries that’ve gone unnoticed. He leaves Murphy to his dinner while he works on cleaning off the bit of the bridle and applying oil where the leather has begun to dry out. It’s a difficult job with only one properly functioning arm, but he’s not about to ask for any assistance with such a mundane chore.

When he gets back, however, he’s startled to find you standing there, stroking Murphy’s mane while the horse happily munches on a mouthful of hay. You’re cooing at the animal happily, giggling when Murphy starts trying to nibble at your shirt once running out of food.

You turn and offer him a smile, face still a little warm from the sun outside and with several strands of your hair poking out in odd directions. He finds that the look suits you, oddly enough.

It’s only when you call his name that he realises that you’ve been trying to speak to him and he’s just been there staring at your face like a complete idiot. He shifts his grip on the halter he’s holding and clears his throat. “What do you need?” He settles on eventually, deciding that’s the least offensive way of telling you he hasn’t heard a word spoken to him.

Thankfully, you don’t seem to be too upset by it. “I was just asking how poor Murphy is doing, I know he had a nasty scratch recently,” you’re looking at Nikto, but your words are said in the same, high-pitched coo you tend to use whenever you’re talking to Sputnik, accompanied by a rather overdramatic frown.

He rolls his eyes at you, but finds he isn’t entirely annoyed by the antics. “Fine. His wound has healed well,” he says while reaching over to try and guide Murphy’s head a little closer. He may not be a trained veterinarian, but Nikto has seen plenty enough injuries in his life to be able to tell when one isn’t healing well. Murphy, of course, decides not to cooperate, instead trying to press the side of his fluffy face up against you.

Getting the halter over the horse’s head with one hand is rather awkward, especially with the way the animal insists on moving about. You reach out, and he’s about to snap at you for trying to do it for him. He’s had enough of people trying to treat him like an infant recently, as though he’s not a dangerous killer. It was suffocating enough when it was hospital staff and physiotherapists, but even a civilian thinking he’s too incapable to perform such a simple task?

But then, you simply grab the buckle in one hand and hold it in position for him to secure himself.

It would be far faster and more efficient for you to take the halter and do it yourself, yet you stand patiently without comment, and wait as he pulls the strap over the horse’s head and fastens the catch in place. He’s not sure why the thought of you specifically treating him like a weak child had him prepared to lash out quite so aggressively, especially when he’s brushed off similar actions by other people with only a few choice words and a particularly icy glare.

You return to eagerly cooing at the horse before he can force himself to offer any kind of thanks, and he quickly pushes down the uncomfortable tangle of emotions trying to crawl their way up from his stomach.

“Are you finished for the day?” You ask after a few moments of silence. He gives you a nod and you’re quick to ask, “how’s your girl been holding up?”

“Our girl?” he asks slowly, forehead scrunching up. Do you think he has a partner or some kind? Why would you think there’s a girl in his life? Has he done something to make you think he’s married or dating someone?

“Sputnik,” you clarify, and his face must do something odd because you snort at his reaction. “Why, do you have another girl?”

Nikto can’t help automatically scoffing at the question, shaking his head at the very thought, “нет, we have no one.” He sees your eyebrows raise slightly, as if surprised by that, but you quickly school your expression back into its normal, carefree smile.

Your expression quickly turns into something playful, however, as you add, “really? A big, handsome man like you?” He’s not sure how genuine your teasing tone is, “surely you’ve got the ladies lining up.” You have this way of joking around with him and asking questions in a way that doesn’t make him want to immediately tell you to ‘fuck off’. It’s a strange feeling, and he’s not entirely sure he likes it.

“You are just crazy,” he counters, going to cross his arms over his chest, only to realise he can’t and instead settling for just letting them rest in place. He sees your eyes travel down the length of his damaged arm, stopping at where it abruptly ends. You don't comment on it, however, and he’s annoyed by how glad he is that you don’t. You likely didn’t even notice his injury until now, given he’s been wearing his prosthetic covered by long-sleeved clothes and gloves every other time you’ve met.

“Wow, so rude,” you grin, trying to playfully shove his shoulder, only to pout when he’s entirely unmoved by the action. He’s been called rude many times in his life, but this is the first time he’s ever found himself pleased to hear it from someone.

The sound of the stable door opening has you pulling your attention away from him and toward Roberts, who has just entered. You give Murphy a quick pet to the side of the neck, and Nikto a final grin, offering up a brief, “I’ll see you around.”

Roberts waves as you leave the stables, waiting for the large door to close before he turns to look at Nikto, one of his bushy eyebrows raised. “So, when’re you gonna marry that lovely girl?” The old man asks, leaning against the stall door with an upward twitch of his lips.

Nikto near enough chokes on thin air, whirling around on the cowboy with a startled, “что?”

The old man just sighs heavily, shaking his head, “just make sure you do it soon, yeah? We need another vet living out here on a permanent basis,” he ploughs on, “she already knows the area and she’s a lovely young lady.”

As quickly as he arrived, Roberts wanders off again, heading back to work and leaving Nikto standing in the middle of the horse stall. He takes a long moment, just staring at where the old man had been a few moments ago while his brain slowly processes everything. Surely he wasn’t being serious, right?

Translations

“да,” - “Yes”

"что?” - "What?"

#writing #call of duty modern warfare #reader insert #nikto x reader #call of duty nikto #cowboy au #fanfic

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wonuwrites · 2 days

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ot13’s reaction to “would you love me if I was a worm?” 🪱

Tbh idk what this is either but i got inspired after eating a cheesy gordita crunch and watched a bird look for food a few days ago so here ya go LMFAOOO

Warning: nothing really. blame taco bell.

also randomly putting songs on that came on for the people in case yall wanted new music to listen to <3

🪱 S. Coups: (Song Note: this song is so Seungcheol coded and I can't even tell you why lmaoooo)

"A worm?" "A worm," you said before taking a sip of your beverage. One of your favorite past times was asking Seungcheol stupid questions you'd see on tiktok and see his reaction. He always entertained them and you were thankful because both of you knew the answers meant NOTHING and that your relationship was solid. Or so you thought. "Well, if you were a worm I guess I would be a bird." "Excuse me!?" "Yeah, I'd be a bird." "Baby, birds eat worms though..." "Yeah and? Don't I do that every night anyway?" He asked while raising a cheeky eyebrow before taking a sip of his drink. You couldn't help but blush at his crude joke and hit his chest softly which caused him to laugh before pulling you close.

🪱 Jeonghan: (Song Note: im feeling nostalgic today~~ lmfaooooo)

To say you caught Jeonghan off guard is an understatement. You would be in the car with him listening to the radio in a comfortable silence when you just sprung the question on him. He half tempted to pull over and give you a genuine "what the fuck" face but instead he just scoffed and started to laugh. "Where did this question come from, (Y/N)?" He would question you. "Just answer, baby. Would you, Yoon Jeonghan, love me if I was a worm?" The use of his full name made him laugh before he just rubbed your thigh and glanced over at you. "Baby, I love you even when you act like a clown. I would love you no matter what."

🪱 Joshua: (Song Note: I got nothing but like yeehaw lmfaoooo. sorry Shua.)

Sometimes, Jisoo and you would give each other "silent treatments" when you were both play fighting and today, it was Jisoo's time to give you the treatment. Why? Well, you ate some leftovers he was thinking about for the last two hours and it killed his pride lolol. While he wasn't mad because truth be told, he was happy you remembered to eat, but still you should've known he was thinking about it because y'all were 'soulmates' or whatever. You rolled your eyes when you realized he was giving you the silent treatment as he started to make Ramen. You started to just playfully annoy him while wrapping your arms around him and just doing the yapping for both of you. He was close to cracking once you started but he finally lost it when you asked him "would you love me if I was a worm." When he didn't say yes right away, you then gave him the "silent treatment" and then it would be his turn to try to annoy you into talking to him.

🪱 Jun: (Song Note: ooo should I do a "sour" version of this? Someone tell me yes pls)

You honestly caught Jun off guard when you asked him. He would just stare at you confused before slowly nodding at you. When you laughed at his reaction it would make him even more confused. You would drop it shortly after you asked but he would think about it for awhile. Shoot, he might text some of the members for advice because well, you really stumped him hahaha. Before you both went to bed, he would roll over and whisper, "So... would you love me if I was a worm?" You would just roll your eyes before kissing him and telling him of course you would.

🪱 Hoshi: (Song Note: Stan BamBam for clear skin. This shoulda been the title imo.)

Soonyoung and you had a really goofy love life for the most part. Sure, you both had your "serious" moments but there was no questioning that you both knew how to be unserious. Today was one of those days. You both were laying on the couch together watching Spongebob. Soonyoung was mindlessly playing with your hair before you decided to hit him with such an important question for him. "Soonyoung?" "hmmm?" "Would you love me if I was a worm?" His hand would stop massaging your head for a minute while he thought about it. You fake gawked at him because he didn't answer as quick as you thought he should. Before you could scold him he would give you a smirk before wrapping his arms around you tight, "why be a worm when you can be a tigress, (y/n)? Let's be tigers forever and ever and ever." You would groan at the 'tiger agenda' but would laugh as he started kissing you all over your face.

🪱 Wonwoo: (Song Note: literally one of the most underrated songs to EVER exist.)

Wonwoo thought he would be safe from this question when it came to you. You see he had already been hit with this question from several members of the maknae line. *cough cough* Mingyu, Hansol, Seokmin, and Chan. *cough cough* so when y'all where getting ready for bed and you asked him he couldn't help but laugh which would make you so confused. He would just smile at you and find you so precious, "of course I would love you if you were a worm you lil cutie." He would give you a soft kiss before pulling you into his chest while you smiled stupidly and contently at his answer.

🪱 Woozi: (Song Note/Rant: If you are still sleeping on Ian you need to reevaluate your life because OMG.)

To be completely honest, I can see Jihoon just giving you a blank stare because his brain just went ???? he didn't know the trend and the question would break his brain. He didn't know what to say so he would just go "uhh sure?" You would fake sulk at his answer and he probably would text one of the younger members to ask for help. I can see Hansol being like "the answer is always yes!!! omg." LOL

🪱 DK: (Song Note: why do I want Seokmin to sing this to me to help me sleep at night? omg)

You would be sitting next to Seokmin on a park bench watching birds just be birds. You were both waiting for Soonyoung and his partner to meet you for a double date and were currently in a comfortable silence. That was until you asked him, "Seokminnie, would you still love me if I was a worm?" As you asked that, a bird had grabbed a worm from the ground and flew away. You both were flabbergasted at the timing and just broke down laughing together. Once you both calmed down he reminded you he'd always love you no matter the life time but for the rest of the day he would lovingly call you "bird food" as if it were a pet name which left Soonyoung and his partner hella confused lmaoooo.

🪱 Mingyu: (Song Note: Nelly will always be that girly for me <3)

One of MIngyu favorite errands to run with you was going grocery shopping. Just spending time with you while planning meals to eat with each other or grabbing snacks with his favorite snack just fueled him with so much happiness. You loved it too because when you were with him, you could turn your brain off and just be yourself. That's why Mingyu wasn't too surprised when you looked at gummy worms and deadpanned asked him, "Baby, if I was a worm would you still love me?" You couldn't see the loving smile he had on his face before he wrapped his arms around you from behind. "Of course, baby. You would be the prettiest and nicest worm to exist."

🪱 Minghao: (Song Note: ngl this might be a future song reaction thingy for my ot13 series I do.)

When you asked Minghao if he would "still love you if you were a worm" he would giggle at your question because duh. He's in this for life baby. He would tell you he would find the BESTEST dirt for you live in and would fight any birds that would try to eat you. It would honestly be just a giggle fest between the both of you.

🪱 Seungkwan: (Song Note: CLC deserved better.)

Seungkwan and you were staying in for the night and were both just hanging out while mindlessly scrolling on your phones. You then crossed a meme that reminded you of the "would you still love me if I was a worm" question. You decided now was the perfect time to make your lovable stud muffin to answer your question. Once you asked him he gave you a stank judgemental side eye before *respectfully* ignoring you. You kept scooting closer and asking him before he couldn't help but laugh and just saying "yes."

🪱 Vernon: (Song Note: When the remix is better than the original... Red Velvet wins always.)

To be real, Hansol was READY for this question. He had seen it on his fyp and knew it was only a matter of time before you would waddle over and ask him if you would still love him if you were a worm. He would be doing whatever Hansol does and just say "yes, I would love you if you were a worm." and also "yes I promise." He would find it very funny when you were pleased by his answer.

🪱 Dino: (Song Note: this song has no business being as much of a bop as it is.)

Chan could go two different ways lmao. He would either laugh at the question before saying "of course I would, but would you love ME?" Or, he would overthink it. Were you an Earthworm? A gummy worm? A pinworm that would be a pain in the ass? He just had to know. Soon you both would be ranking worms and would forget about the question hahaha.

btw just wanted yall to know how committed to writing Chan's part I was:

I forgot what they were called LMFAOOOOOOOOOOOOO

Anyways, which one was your favorite? Mine personally was Seokmin's. I feel like I've been writing so many sad things for him lately so it's been nice to write something super cute like that. <3

Hope yall enjoyed <3 if yall were worms, I would love you all :)

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georgiapeach30513 · 3 days

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See Through My Eyes, Part 1

Summary: You had reached the point of your life in the last thirty-six years that you were just going to be alone. You were content. Living your happy life with no rules for anyone but yourself. And there was Bucky. And one night. And that was all it took to have your world turned upside down, and it will never be the same again.

Pairings: Bucky Barnes X Reader

Rating: mature

Warnings: language, implied sex, slight sexy imagery, I'm a cocktease (get over it 🤭), 18+ ONLY

Word Count: 5K

Series Masterlist

Left. Left. Hmm.

This is not going to be an easy task. You’re definitely not picky, you just know what you want, and what you don’t want. What you’re willing to compromise, and some things that you most definitely would never even think twice about compromising on. Being single for so long, you have grown to be independent and didn’t actually need anyone in your life. If they were going to be with you, they would have to add to your experience.

Left. Nope. Never. Not in a million years.

Your friend, Zoey’s mouth drops open as your finger continues to swipe left. Left. Left. Throwing her head back in exasperation as you keep flicking left over and over again, and never in the direction she was ready to beg you to flick. Such a fruitless endeavor she’s making you endure. Pointless. These men were — well they weren’t anyone you would go after.

Countless faces that do nothing to excite you. There was absolutely no physical attraction whatsoever. Looks aren’t everything, but you have to be able to look at them. Imagine having that face hovering over you. Sputtering stupid words they think are a turn on, while you just start moaning so they get the fuck off you, and you are left to finish yourself off. Left with hardly any relief, but filled with humiliating shame for the rest of your life. No, thank you.

Oh that one looks smug. Nope.

This one looks high as a kite. Can’t do that.

“Are you even reading their bios?” Ehh, you were skimming them, and that’s if you find something about them you like. You know that Zoey thinks you’re just being a prude or an ass that is there for her humor. But if you were going to do this, why not make it enjoyable? At least walk away with a story to tell that didn’t want to make you hurl.

“A bit,” you hum. “Gross, this one is saying he’s going to give me a good time. How cringe is that?”

Zoey’s eyes narrow, and her lips purse as she stares at you. She’s already annoyed with your antics, and her constant want for you to have what she had. And you are okay with being alone. “What?” You ask her overly dramatic but judging face that you love, but still want to pinch her.

“You’re the one that’s cringe. How do you know?”

“Of all the dating sites you wanted me to use, you chose Tinder. Now, maybe I’m wrong but isn’t this a hookup site?” She just shrugs her shoulders while you continue to swipe left. “How do you want me to have sex with them if I don’t like the way this one looks like he could murder me in my sleep. So do you want me to date or…?”

“I want you to get the stick out that’s shoved so far up your ass. You work with children all day, and go home alone every night, and play with yourself,” you snort as you keep flicking through a few maybes, but mostly a bunch of no’s. “So you just have no sexual drive whatsoever?”

“Sex is more to me than just getting off. I need you to empower my eyes, my mind, control my body without touching me. Make me want you,” sex is sex of course. But you need to feel needy without penetration. The buildup and anticipation should be just as important and amazing as sex itself.

“And you know without a doubt that these men can’t do that to you?”

“Well,” you pause looking through this one’s bio. He was cute, no he was beautiful. Sexy in a rugged kind of way, but a face that looked like it was painted from your imagination as the perfect man. Step one. “First is their look. I do have to be attracted to them, or they’re not getting anywhere close to me with their dicks.”

You are very attracted to this one. He’s in construction. Muscles rippling, sweat dripping down his neck. But in his bio he is a bit of a nerd even adding a corny joke ‘How do construction workers usually party? They are always known for raising the roof.’

You giggle, flipping through more of his photos. He is doing it right, they’re just of him. No guesswork as to which one he is, and he has a pretty smile. Pretty and smart, even if he had dad jokes, and you’re sure there’s more than just that one. Not exactly empowering your mind, but he got your attention. And being cute and sweet was a part of being sexy.

But that last photo of him — he is one hundred percent bonafide beyond sexy, incredibly handsome man. He looks tired in this photo, maybe even a bit sad. His hands are in frame, and why is the fact that they’re dirty turning you on? Sweat drenched shirt, so it’s sticking to him, and leaving nothing to the imagination. But it isn’t what you would call the normal thirst trap. No this is designed to hit your every fantasy. And it does. Just looking at his picture gives you the most vivid dreams of him. Is that wrong?

Maybe a fictional man can exist. At least for one night. You could completely have a one night stand with him. Could find yourself daydreaming that a one night could be more, and could turn in to the most perfect love song that no one had even written yet.

Yes, this man could be the one that you would consider wrecking all your plans of being single forever. You could have fun with this man, but only if he matched with you. Oh, you didn’t think this through. At the very least you had a picture to add to your spank bank. Back to the point of this being normal to have sexual fantasies of people in your real life? Someone you could quite possibly run into eventually?

How could you even react? This is the man that you had pictured in every one of your romance novels that you drooled over every night claiming that there is a reason that fictional men are superior and that’s because men sucked. Women could never be enough. Your boobs are too big, they’re not big enough. Your hair is too short, and now it’s too long. They like a woman that doesn’t wear a ton of makeup, but they want you to look like a Kardashian.

Everything men say is a contradiction. Everything they want doesn’t add up. There’s holes in this plot, and it just makes absolutely no sense. And now you’re rambling in your head as your best friend stares widely at you, and you place your phone in your lap looking at her.

“You totally found a good looking man and your brain just went wild with different scenarios that could happen, but doesn’t mean that it will happen. Am I correct?” This is the problem with having a best friend. They just knew.

“Shut up.”

“Just swipe right, and put yourself out of your misery. You are so picky,” yes you are, but she didn’t have to call you out on being picky.

“I’m not picky. I’m very selective, and I’d rather be alone than settle. I don’t need sex,” she reaches to grab your phone, but you’re quicker. “I did swipe right. That is what you’re supposed to do right? What — Zo! What if I swiped left thinking it was no, and it was on all those guys except the one man that I wanted. Am I supposed to swipe right when I want him?” Your heart starts to race as you think of the possibility that all the men you found repulsive are the ones that you liked.

“Swiping right is correct. And judging by this whole meltdown you just did, you do in fact need sex,” you puff out a bit of air as you collapse on your couch. This is exhausting. You are going to give yourself an aneurysm if you continue at this rate. Why does everything seem so stressful? Dating in your thirties sucked. And not the good kind of suck.

And don’t try to judge yourself because you took a screenshot of that last photo. You weren’t going to do anything with it, but just look at it, so tonight when you were reading about a faerie king you had a face to put with his name. It’s that simple and that’s all it was. Nothing more, nothing less.

You take a glance down at your phone, mouth going agape as you read the notification. All of that nonsensical blubbering and worrying about how you were going to most definitely be alone forever, and you accepted that. But now the most beautiful man you have ever seen in your life just matched with you.

“Um, Zo?” She can tell by the stunned look on your face, and your lack of words the onslaught on emotions and thoughts what happened.

“I’m booking the waxing immediately. We’ll go pick you out a new outfit, and you need fresh new lingerie. Is he cute?” You sit stock still, and refusing to even open your phone, just stare at the notification. Men did not find you attractive in a sexual way. And if they did, they never acknowledged it. You could flirt with the best of them, but all it got you was a free upsized fries. Or a free matcha, which you are positive was made before you, and they just never picked it up. So it was completely accidental.

Could this amazing looking man with his cute bio have made a mistake in his swipe? Maybe he thought that right was a no. He just got confused like you did.

I did have something planned, but it feels wrong. So can I say your beauty is so enchanting that it made me forget my pickup?

What the hell is this? You’re dreaming. This cheesy and corny man messaged you. So it wasn’t a mistake, you’re just living in a fantasy world where men like him talked to women like you. The lies you’ve made up in your head have made you crack. You are not a woman that can travel through time. Nope, you are a kindergarten teacher, and he was a fine as fuck man who matched on Tinder with you. On purpose.

“What the fuck do I even say?”

“Dinner?” Zoey starts laughing. Your friend loves to watch you squirm, but this isn’t what’s happening, you are trying to make this make any form of sense. It doesn’t. There is no way that this man meant to do that.

I think I’ve done something wrong.

Or are you online?

Ignore these messages. Maybe I made a mistake.

No! He didn’t make a mistake. ‘Sorry, I was trying to get away from my company. What mistake could you have made?’ God, that line was so cheesy. Just bury yourself in the sand and never emerge. This man is going to think you’re an absolute idiot. What the hell.

Your throat tightens up as you wonder exactly what he could be thinking. Does he think you’re as big a loser as you feel right now? Or is he already going, never mind, she’s not worth the time? And isn’t it just sex? Is Tinder more than that? Surely it is, even if the people have made it into a hookup site.

Good. You wanna have some dinner this Friday?

Yes.

Good. Perfect. Amazing.

Okay.

No, I mean thank you.

I’d enjoy that.

My dating etiquette is really rusty.

No worries. So is mine.

That was excruciating. Ouch, you hurt from the embarrassment. But dinner. There’s dinner in your future. “I need a new dress and lingerie. Forget the waxing. Let’s go.”

Bucky winces as his daughter, Isolde, runs down the hallway screaming. He looks at his best friend, Steve, and he shakes his head. “She’s on crack.”

“No. No, she was just at her mother’s,” Kenton. The bane of Bucky’s existence. She came around maybe twice a year. And of course wanted to insert herself the past weekend because it was Izzy’s birthday. “She’s got no raising at Ken’s. If…I’d like full legal custody of Izzy, but until then I play fucking nice.”

“Daddy said a bad word! I’m telling my teacher,” his cherub faced daughter runs into the living room before disappearing just as quickly. She was in love with her teacher. Bucky was thankful for his parents, and only slightly annoyed he didn’t have time to meet her.

“What is Miss Bambi doing?” Steve screams down the hallway, and Izzy steps back out of her room, shaking her head no. “What?”

“Fawn. Miss Fawn. Deer are her favorite animals, and she said Bambi was already taken. I am the chameleon of the classroom. And Jacob is the penguin,” she covers her mouth giggling as she runs back into her room, and Steve twists his head towards Bucky so fast. He’d have to talk to her about this Jacob.

“Each kid has a nickname, don’t ask questions. They love it. If Izzy wants to be a little lizard…”

“Daddy! I need a pet chameleon!” Hearing another loud bang, both men’s eyes go wide, and they turn towards her room.

“I can’t be responsible for her,” Steve shakes his head, “Why not wait until she gets a bit more acclimated to being home again? Are you just going to let her destroy her room?”

“She didn’t like the present her mom got her, and asked if she could break it,” Steve gives his friend a weird glance, chuckling when Isolde starts to evil laugh.

“I taught her that,” Steve beams proudly at his goddaughter, “What is so important?”

“A date.”

“Come again?”

“A. Date.”

“Bucky Barnes! Is this from Tinder? Wait, that’s why you want me to watch her at my house? You dog. You dirty little bastard! You’re finally going to get you some? This is great.”

“Number one,” Izzy runs back into the living room, and stands in front of her uncle, wagging a finger at him, “I’m telling my teacher you said a bad word. Number two, what does daddy need to get besides pizza?”

“Yep, that’s exactly what I’m getting you. Go — do whatever evil little master plan you’re doing with your toy, and I’ll order pizza. Because daddy needs to get some — pizza,” he steps in front of his friend shaking his head. This was a bad mistake. Not because of you, but because Steve was going to make a bigger deal out of this than he was ready for. It wasn’t anything major. It was his yearly time to get out there to see if dating was worth it, and it rarely was.

Too many games, and too much time. At least with Tinder there didn’t seem to be any confusion on how the evening would go. A bit of dinner, laughs, fun, and…you go home? He takes you to his home? He goes to your place, and sneaks off? No, that’s rude. He offers to call a cab? Wait, how are you and him going to get to wherever you are going?

“I don’t feel good.”

“Ahh! No! Not all women are like Ken. They are not all evil bitches that like to use your daughter as a bargaining tool. They are not all her. Don’t you dare put your issues with one woman on another one. You may have fun, you know?”

“Steve! I’m telling Miss Fawn you said two bad words!”

He is just as nervous and awkward as you, and you sigh in disbelief. Legitimately laughing at his corny jokes, and when he smiles, the nervous knot in your belly loosens up, but a warm tingling remains. The restaurant is small and cozy, and he is a delight. He doesn’t turn you off, in fact…

Oh yeah, he’s hitting all your spots. Everyone of them. Amazing to look at. First step with attraction. The way his face lights up when he talks and tells a joke, he’s not faking. His sweet little giggle, and nose scrunch make your body all fuzzy and giddy. All these different adjectives to describe the buzzing in your brain feels almost dizzying, and you welcome it. No, you want to pull into your body and keep it with you forever.

Well, until the morning comes and you imagine for the rest of the weekend about what it would be like if Bucky wasn’t a man that was going to eventually disappoint you, and that it could truly be real and true love. And you live happily ever after, which of course you know is a lie because men just don’t like you like that.

And the man is smart, and well traveled. Talking about how he spent his twenties moving around for work, and enjoyed every second of not being tied down. You suppose that is a positive and something you should have done more in your life. But now, he’s somewhat settled. You don’t even know what the ‘somewhat’ part means. But you like to look at him. Looking at him feels wet, and you would completely be ashamed to admit that out loud.

And he even casually and occasionally touches you. You’ve seen how dirty his hands get, but they’re clean now. And warm. And strong, and when he talks with his hands a waft of his sexy, clean and fresh cologne invades your senses, and you’re a goner.

Oh oh, when he leans towards you, whispering something in your ear, and his lips touch your neck just the tiniest bit, and your insides light on fire. That was definitely not an accident, and you want to devour every touch of his petal pink lips. You’re so deprived of actual touch that this was all it took, and you are a simpering fool for this man.

Your pupils turn into a black pool of lust. Nearly trembling from the vibrating that his scent has your body doing. You’re ready to place yourself in his lap allowing him to feel your pulsing heat, while the other patrons of the restaurant be damned. His body scoots closer to you, and you feel his own buzzing radiating onto your skin. Thankfully you’re not alone. He’s fully aware of what’s happening, and he wants it, too. One night can’t hurt.

His hands finds a home on your thigh and he rubs up and down. Up and down. Each time getting higher, and dipping lower between your legs. Up and down. Lick the annoying tick of a metronome, and the tempo speeds up. You feel like you’re going to explode as an odd pleasure courses through your body. Going to come undone right here in front of these people.

Whimpering out his name when he leans into your neck, “Without sounding too forward...”

“My place?” Fuck. Well, aren’t you just the eager beaver? Men don’t like when you’re too forward. They want a lady, until they’re ready to pounce, and then you bend to their every whim and let them use your body as your plaything. You would like to be treated as a play thing. That actually sounds nice to give someone else the control over your pleasure and not just tapping the button on your battery operated boyfriend. Power tool.

“Okay,” he says enthusiastically. Looking over the table as he adds up the amount before he lays down a few bills. “We are — how do I say this?”

“I want you to fuck me like you own me.”

“Good.”

Good? Oh god this man is going to have you turned inside out, and wiping drool off the floor. No, he’ll probably have you licking the floor. Sweet Jesus. Maybe Zoey was right. You need a real man with real hands and a real touch.

And a real reality check. You sigh, leaning your head back on your shoulders as you run your hands down your front. That man changed your life forever. You’ll never forget that man, or apparently get back in touch with him. You’re sure there’s some stupid excuse as to him deactivating his Tinder. And maybe a decent excuse. But that left you here. Alone. With twenty-three five year olds.

Alone. All alone. It is what you wanted after all. Well, this part of your life you didn’t see coming or planned on it but it is what it is. Alone.

That word used to sound like a dream, and now it is the sound of nails on a chalkboard. Irritation of how one night of fun could make one’s life change so rapidly, while also you were open and ready for the changes.

It’s a moment of thinking your life would be one way, you were comfortable with your life of solitude. Accepted the life that was laid out before you as a thirty-five year old woman. Of course, everything did not happen according to your plan of life when you were a child, but you had come to the realization that it was your life, and you were okay with it.

And then there was Bucky. He made you realize some personal things. That you were a woman with needs, and you were a woman that was desired. Although not desiring more than that one night did do something to your fragile ego. That is not something you were ready to come to terms with. Nor the frustration, confusion, and yet clarity that came from that connection.

“Miss Fawn!” You look towards the student that was left. Her chubby little cheeks try to smile at you, but she is worrying away at her lip. “Do you think they forgot about me?”

“Oh, no, sweetheart,” you offer a smile, sitting in your chair, and you tap your lap. “Come on, we’ll wait together. The office has called someone to get you, okay?”

Her face turns up into a forced smile, but she walks over to your lap all the same. Crawling up, and laying her head on your shoulder. You look down at her a bit odd. She didn’t normally get too touchy with you, but clearly she was scared about being forgotten. “You’re tired and want to go home.”

“I’ll go home once someone gets you. I’ll always stay behind.”

“You’re nice. Next year can I have you as my teacher, too,” you brush back her flyaway hairs, but shake your head no. She is sweet. Adorable even. She is one of the more enthusiastic children in your class. “Why not?”

“Because, you’ll move up to first grade,” the sad reality of being a kindergarten teacher is seeing them so young and scared, and then they turn into these balls of energy, and they actually like you. But you have to set them free to another teacher. It is cruel in ways.

“Will I still be a chameleon?”

“Oh, honey, if that’s what you want your nickname to be,” she gives you a pretty little smile before she starts picking at her dress. Her little fingers convey the anxiety she has bubbling inside of her and waiting for them to calm with any familiar face to walk through the door.

“My mom hasn’t called since my birthday,” she rarely mentioned her mom, and it leaves you wondering what the best approach would be. If you were in her shoes what would you want an adult to say? But you’ve never been in her shoes. Your parents were miraculously still in love and still together. Freaks of nature.

They couldn’t understand how and why you were where you are in life. Your decision, your life. Leave you alone. And that’s how they had to approach you nowadays.

“Izzy, baby, I’m sorry,” that damn voice. You could feel the whispers on your skin as Bucky’s fingers entwined with yours. His whole weight on you as he slowly pushes into your body.

His sweaty forehead presses against your own as he begs, ��Give me one more time, gorgeous.’ You lost just how many one more times you actually had. No one had ever made you feel so engrossed in pure pleasure quite like Bucky did that night. And he can nonchalantly walk around like that? Still sweaty and dirty from working and still fine as fuck. And thinking he can come in here and you not feel something. It’s just your cunt that feels it.

“Oh,” he stops halfway towards his daughter when he realizes that it was you whose lap she was sitting in, “Hey,” he struggles to get out your name, and the fucker scratches his head trying to look away. Was he really going to waltz into your classroom and act like that? Like nothing happened. But you have him stunned. Good. That’s what you’ve felt since that night.

You were already a bit irritated that Isolde was his daughter. You never saw that man cross the threshold of the school. It was always her grandparents that picked her up. “Daddy, this is Miss Fawn. I told you that you would like her. You’re doing that weird thing with your fake hand,” his left hand not so casually dips into his pocket, and you cock up an eyebrow.

Liked you? Liked you and then removed his profile from Tinder. What kind of ridiculous nonsense was this?? Izzy jumps off your lap, and runs to her dad, and he adorably picks her up for a sweet kiss before putting her on his hip. And your heart aches.

No! Don’t you dare find him being a dad cute. It hurts. Seeing him be a dad stings and pangs, and makes you want to hurl your guts out. Something that thankfully you haven’t done for a few hours. Standing up from your chair, you turn to go grab her things.

The room isn’t silent, but you hear it. Hear the giant gulp that Bucky takes as he sees you from the side. “Miss Fawn is having a baby. How far along are you now?”

You remember that night like it had just happened. How he had literally picked you up and told you how you were going to be positioned for him. How every bit of your body lit up with his ministrations. And the way that he made sure that more than just your cunt was stimulated. You even remember exactly how many days ago it was. It helped with determining how far along you were.

“I’m four months. You shouldn’t worry about that though. I won’t have the baby until school lets out. So what is your fact of the week?” Bucky is a frozen little bastard. You swear you can see his calculator working out exactly how long ago that was. Protection scmection. He had to have super sperm. Maybe you didn’t use your pills just right, but a condom was fucking involved. And even the way he took that shit off was sexy.

You could write poetry on how he pulled off the rubber, keeping his eyes on you while you gaze at his member, wondering how it fit inside of you. And with too much ease, he ties the protection up, tossing it in your garbage, and he still got back in the bed, and he still held you. His lips couldn’t stop kissing over your sweaty skin, and you were so high with euphoria you couldn’t remember his name.

Asshole.

He had to have one flaw. His? Sperm that could penetrate anything, and the ability to disappear.

“Oh, oh! Chameleon actually means ground lion,” you crinkle your nose as you smile at her, handing Bucky her things, and hoping that his parents pick her up tomorrow.

“Daddy, can we go to Miss Fawn’s baby’s birthday shower?” Her chubby little hand presses against his cheek, and she forces him to look at her, and not you any longer. He was part of making this baby, but you didn’t need him. If he wanted to ghost you, he could. You had savings. You had your own place. You had the space. And you didn’t need Bucky Barnes.

You just still really really want him. And only a small part of you wanted him to make you whine as he rails into you. “Baby shower, Izzy. And I don’t think I need students coming. How about when you get home you show your daddy the book you made about chameleons?”

“Have…you’ve always been her teacher?” He’s observant.

“Mhmm,” this is so awkward. Could he just go already? You didn’t need him to gawk at your swollen belly where his donation was growing. You were getting to the point you were going to shout in front of his daughter that he knocked you up, but you didn’t need him. Or his money. If he didn’t want to be in your life, who cares? Definitely not you, and your romantic ideas. Or even just the thought of having him again. No! Stop that. Hormones. It definitely wasn’t your body betraying you as it craved Bucky’s touch, and his cock.

“I…I should call,” no, he should leave you alone. Just like he did four months ago.

“You don’t have my number.”

“I deleted the app. And then realized I didn’t have your number, and then couldn’t remember my login information, and,” he takes a deep inhale, and your mushy hormonal brain can’t handle this information. You were in no way ready to process whatever the hell he was saying because he didn’t have a stupid excuse. It was an excuse, but it made sense. “I…I have so many questions.”

“The answer is yes. And your daughter is with you. Maybe you should set up a parent/teacher meeting. My school email is on the website. Have a good evening Mr. Barnes,” he doesn’t want to leave, but he looks at his daughter, and back to you with a nod. And you’re left with conflicting feelings on what the hell that just was.

Sure, maybe you could have tried harder, but you just thought he wanted to fuck once and be done, so you gave him that out. But after all those years of wanting children, and thinking it wouldn’t happen, you looked at this like a blessing in disguise. But…what was that? So much was said, and nothing was said all at the same time.

Maybe you didn’t have to be alone.

And maybe you didn’t have to have a fantasy of an impossible man when there was something between you and Bucky. At least your body still thinks so.

Masterlist

@tis-thedamn-season @marveloustaylortot @buckybarnesisdaddy @theinheriteddutchess @lecliff037 @w1nter-wolf-barnes1 @distractingbeth

#see through my eyes #bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x fem!reader #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x teacher!reader #single dad!bucky barnes #single dad au #construction worker au

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livingdreams97 · 3 days

Text

Sarah Cameron -- "The Ice Cream" (Part 1)

Sarah Cameron x Male reader/oc

Summary: Being the Kook Princess has never mattered to Sarah, especially when her heart beats and her eyes are only been fixed on a certain Pogue since she shared an ice cream with him at the age of 11.

Words: 3.944

Masterlist

Sarah POV

I flip through the magazine, reading about celebrity gossip and what's new in the fashion world. But my tranquility is interrupted when my little sister enters my room like a rocket and runs to the window.

Sarah: What are you doing? - I ask confused, seeing how she practically sticks to the window and looks at something through it.

Wheezie: He's already arrived.- she informs me and when I realize I get up quickly; and I run with my little sister.

Sarah: When did he arrive? - I ask looking out the window and observing the boy who is cleaning my father's car.

Wheezie: Five minutes ago, but I just found out now. - she answers and I quickly run to my closet.

Sarah: Do you think this dress is nice? - I ask her and she looks at me, then looks at the light blue dress with dark lilac and white flowers in my hands.

Wheezie : Yes.- responds with a thumbs up.

I run into the bathroom, taking off the clothes I'm wearing, leaving me only in my panties and putting the dress over my head. I do my hair and makeup very simply and fast, since I don't like overloaded makeup. I put on a little of my perfume and leave the bathroom in a bit of a hurry.

I put on some white converse to finish the look, rearranging my necklaces and picking up my phone. I say goodbye to my sister and leave my room; practically running to the front of my house.

When I reach the front door, I smooth the skirt of my dress and take a deep breath; to calm my nerves. I open the front door, stepping out and closing it behind me. I walk calmly towards where Y/n is, watching how he cleans the car with the sponge and how he leaves a trail of soap behind it.

I look at what he's wearing, seeing the navy blue strappy t-shirt he's wearing, along with some washed white shorts and some simple white vans .

Sarah: Good morning.- I greet him, walking to be close to him and avoiding getting wet.

Y/n: Good morning princess.- he greets with amusement, stopping cleaning the car and looking at me for a few seconds.

Sarah: Why you always have to remind me about the Kook Princess tag? - I claim with crossed arms, somewhat amused and somewhat annoyed that they always call me that; for being the daughter of Ward Cameron.

Y/n: Because you are the princess of the place, but not only on the kook side and you should thank me for that compliment. - he tells me with a small laugh and returns to what he was doing.

Sarah: Even so, I'm not a princess because my father is one of the richest men on the island.- I tell him honestly, because it's something that everyone calls me and that bothers me.

Y/n: Okay, I'll stop calling you that.- he says with a small smile, looking at me for a few seconds and running over my body very lightly.- I like the dress, it looks good on you.- he comments as a compliment.

Sarah: Thank you.- I thank him kindly. - What kind of adventures await you on the other side of the island today? - I ask interested, but trying to look casual and not too interested.

Y/n: There is going to be a party on the beach in the suburb. - He comments without giving it importance. -So I guess I'll go with my friends.- he responds, shrugging his shoulders.

Sarah: I think I've heard something about that. - I comment without giving it much importance, remembering Topper's comment about the party and going with some friends.

Y/n: Will you come? - he asks curiously, turning on the hose and rinsing the car.

Sarah: My friends have told me about it, but I'm not really sure if it's the most appropriate thing for some kooks . - I respond with a small grimace.

Y/n: You should come.- he comments looking at me with a smile. - As long as your friends don't stop by, I don't think there will be any problem and I don't even think anyone will notice you. Everyone will be too drunk to recognize you.- he comments amusingly and I laugh at that.

Sarah: Then I guess I'll go.- I say, biting my lip to contain the emotion. -But only if you invite me to something to drink.- I tell him and he lets out a small laugh.

Y/n: Then you have a deal.- he tells me with a smile. -You should go with that dress, because it really looks great on you and it's not excessive.- He flatters me again and I guess I don't have to think about what to wear anymore.

Sarah: Then we'll see each other at night.- I say goodbye and walk back to the house.

Y/n: You know it, princess.- he says again as a farewell, making me turn around walking backwards and give him the middle finger causing him to laugh.

I just shake my head in amusement, turning around again and walking into the house. As soon as I enter the house, I lean my back against the door and sigh with a huge smile. I look down, staring at the dress and biting my lip; knowing that he liked it and praised me twice for it.

POV You

I walk among drunk people greeting my acquaintances and stopping to talk to others. The air hits my body, opening my shirt and exposing my chest. I was wearing a open black shirt with a print of white and gray flowers, with a simple gray swimsuit and my slightly worn white vans .

I approach JJ, to help him get up from the ground; since he climbed the trunk of a tree and ended up falling from it. I approach him, stretching out my hand with a laugh and seeing his amused smile on his face; taking the hand that I offer him.

Y/n: Up my friend.- I say amused, pulling at our hands and helping him stand up.

JJ: They pushed me.- he says struggling a little, removing the sand from his body and smiling like a clown.

Y/n: Sure. - I comment amused, patting him on the back.

JJ: I dropped the beer. - He points to the now empty glass on the floor and placing a pout on his face.

Y/n: Let's go to the barrel and I'll give you a new one if there's still any left.- I assure him, placing a hand on his shoulder and pushing him a little towards the barrel.

JJ: And why don't you give me yours? - he asks with doe like eyes.

Y/n: Because I'm not going to run out of beer because you started climbing logs and fell off them. - I respond, laughing at his absurd question.

When we reach the keg, I pour JJ a new glass; thanking whatever god there is still beer left and giving him the glass filled to the top. He does a weird dance, causing me to laugh at him and watch him drink from the glass.

Taking advantage of the fact that we are here, I fill my glass to the top; since I barely had two fingers left and so I don't have to come back in five minutes.

We sit around the campfire, since it's starting to get dark and that's where Pope is also. I sit next to the girl Pope is talking to, listening to their conversation a little and feeling the girl's discomfort.

Y/n: I don't think that the gases of a dead person are of interest to everyone, Pope.- I assure him, smiling at the girl in a friendly way and trying to get her to change the subject. -But I'm sure you like surfing, right?- I ask the girl, when I notice the bikini marks on her tan and the shell necklace on her neck.

XX: Well, yes i do.- she answers me with a smile.

Y/n: Well, Pope is one of the best surfers I know, in fact yesterday he surfed with John B and I during the storm. - I inform him and I see how he looks at my friend with surprise.

XX: Is that true? - she asks, clearly impressed and I wink at my friend.

Pope: Yes, the truth is that it was a little difficult and all. But I managed to catch a couple of good waves.- he answers and they begin to have a normal conversation; so I ignore them and start talking to the girl who just sat on my left.

The girl I'm talking to is quite attractive, she has come on vacation with her family and some friends. She has brown hair, beautiful blue eyes and a completely attractive smile. It's not thin as a stick, it's a little wider and the truth is that I love it.

She places her hand on my forearm, leaving sporadic squeezes as we talk and getting closer and closer to me. The conversation is pleasant enough, but it's interrupted by my best friend's voice behind me and I turn to look at her.

Kiara: What is she doing here? - she asks and I look where she is looking; finding Sarah climbing onto a buoy stranded on the shore of the beach.

Y/n: I guess coming to the party.- I answer without giving it much thought, seeing the annoyance on her face and how she walks away angry.

I look back at where Sarah is, unable to prevent a smile from reaching my face and watching her point to something in the sea. But my smile disappears in a few seconds, as soon as Topper appears in the picture and extends his hand to help her get off the buoy. When I see how she jumps into the boy's arms, I roll my eyes in annoyance and return to the conversation with Lara.

Y/n: Would you like another beer? - I ask her, when my glass is empty and I see that hers is too.

Lara: I would love to.- she answers with a big smile, so we both get up and walk towards the barrel.

I refilled her glass, starting another conversation about her vacation and how they chose to come to the Outer Banks. I also refill my glass for the fourth time and drink a little of the contents. Lara's hand is placed on my forearm again and she approaches my body, leaving a few centimeters between our bodies.

But our conversation is interrupted again, when someone clears their throat next to us and I look to my right; meeting Sarah, Topper and some more of their friends.

Topper: Can you serve us a beer or what? - He asks bluntly and I look at him with a raised eyebrow.

Y/n: There you have the tap and two hands, help yourself and don't mess around. - I respond annoyed, because it is believed that we pogues were born to serve them and that is the only thing we have to do.

Topper: But you're already here and ...- he begins but is interrupted mid-sentence.

Sarah: Come on, Topper don't start and serve the beer yourself. - She tells him in a low voice, so that the rest don't hear her and so that Topper doesn't respond badly.

I just watch everything, watching as he pours himself a glass with a frown and then walks away angrily. I drink from my glass, watching as the rest of her friends do the same and Sarah is left alone in front of me .

Y/n: Do you want that beer?- I asked her with a smile, trying to be friendly and remove the tension from the place.

Sarah: I'll be happy to accept it. - She responds, returning my smile.

I pour her the beer, making sure I fill her glass and offer it to her with a friendly smile. I start talking to her, ignoring Lara's existence and focusing entirely on the dark blonde with chocolate eyes in front of me.

Y/n: I see that in the end you kept the dress.- I point the glass at her clothes, seeing how well they fit and how pretty they are.

Sarah: The weather was good to bring a dress.- she comments with a beautiful laugh. -And I see that you are a little too exposed.- she says, showing her teeth and pointing to my exposed chest and abdomen.

Y/n: I didn't know that showing nipples in 2020 was something so wrong. - I commented amused, covering my nipples with my hands; when the wind hits and they open my shirt more in a joking manner.

Sarah: Well yes , it is very excessive and provocative.- she says with a big smile, making her entire face light up and look even more beautiful.

And yes, I've liked Sarah Cameron since we were 11 and I dropped the ice cream of the month in accidents. Since my grandparents could only pay me one a month in the summer, I was really sad and I knew that they weren't going to give me money for another ice cream.

But Sarah appeared with her ice cream and offered me to share it with a kind smile; where you could see how one of her upper canines was missing.

Over time it became platonic, as I realized that nothing could ever happen between us and that it was just a dream. Since when we grew up, I realized that money is everything on this island and that unfortunately I don't have it and her family has plenty of it. So a relationship between the kook princess and me is something impossible, which is a dream more than a reality.

After talking for a while, she goes back to her friends and I join John B on the shore of the beach. He was telling some people from the suburbs; about how we surfed during the storm and how incredible the waves were.

John B: And this guy, he surfed a wave that was almost five meters tall and managed to reach the end of it standing up.- he says after putting his arm over my shoulder.

Y/n: You say it as if it were the biggest wave we have ever surfed. - I say amused.

John B: But it was during a hurricane and not just any hurricane, but Hurricane Agatha no less.- he says as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.

JJ: John B, Y/n!- he shouts, approaching us. -Do you want the famous Milwaukee drink? - asks us, offering us two full glasses and I accept it.

Y/n: What does it have? - I ask, smelling the glass and taking a sip. -Fuck JJ, this is strong.- I say when the drink burns and scratches my throat when I swallow it.

JJ: It's the special drink.- he answers as if it were obvious. -Do you want yours or not? - he asks JB, but something catches his attention and he walks away from us.

From one moment to the next, we see how Topper and JJ begin to push each other. So we quickly approached them and tried to stop them. But Topper 's big mouth I had to talk and mess it up more .

Topper: Fucking pogues.- he says and I see how JB pushes him hard.

Pope: JB, we weren't supposed to mess it up and stay incognito.- he tells him, pushing him back and trying to avoid a fight.

But Topper pushes Pope out of the way and punches JB. Pope stops JJ and Kiara appears pushing me back, so we don't get into the fight.

Topper: Come on John B, or do you want me to drown you like your father? - he asks with sarcasm, making our friend get angry and respond by knocking him to the ground.

While everyone starts cheering for them to fight, I try to get rid of Kiara and separate them. When I see that JB is winning, I calm down a little and Kiara stops holding me back. But I still feel tense and ready to separate them if it gets worse.

Y/n: Fuck it.- I say when I see Topper sinking my friend's head into the water and drowning him.

I run towards him , tackling him by the waist into the water and separating him from my friend. But he breaks free and starts hitting me, so I start hitting him back and manage to hit him hard on the nose. I feel his nose crunch against my fist, making him hold it and start whimpering like a baby. I grab him by the collar of his shirt, starting to drag him and leave him at the feet of his friends.

Y/n: Either you take him or he doesn't come out of here. - I assure them, more than annoyed, releasing his friend and walking towards mine.

Topper: This will not remain like that orphan.- he shouts at me and I turn around fuming; walking quickly towards him, but JJ arrives first and points the gun at his head.

JJ: It is what you think.- he assures him with a crooked smile, causing everyone to flee in fear and Sarah to start screaming.

Sarah: JJ stop.- he yells in fear and Kiara also starts yelling at him.

JJ: You better leave, because otherwise I'll shoot you and I'll stay so calm. - he whispers and lets go.

An hour later, I find myself in my room wearing short black sweatpants and standing in front of the bathroom mirror. I look at my purple cheekbone, along with the eye and split lip that the idiot Topper left me with. I begin to heal the bruises, feeling the throbbing of the bruises and the stinging of the alcohol on my lip.

Sarah: That looks bad.- I hear from behind me and I jump scared.

Y/n: What the hell are you doing in my house and how did you get in? - I ask almost out of breath, feeling my heart racing and seeing the amused smile on her face.

Sarah: I came in my car, you left the window open and I came in that way. - she answers me, leaning on the bathroom door frame and giving me a soft smile.

Y/n: I'm impressed by you Cameron.- I commented with a smile, turning back to the mirror and continuing to heal my wounds.

Sarah: And can I know why? - aks with interest.

Y/n: Because you remember where I live, when you haven't been here in almost six years and you've snuck into my room without me or my grandparents noticing. - I respond, putting things away and turning to face her.

Sarah: It wasn't difficult to sneak in either and the house stuck in my mind. - She comments with a smile, passing her eyes over my body and stopping at the bumps on my face. - I'm very sorry for what Topper said to you.- she apologizes with a small grimace.

Y/n: He hasn't said anything that isn't true.- I assure her with a sigh. -Besides, you shouldn't be the one to apologize.- I say with a smile, although I'm sure it looks more like a grimace.

Sarah: Even if it's true, he doesn't have the right to tell you anything and even less so in such a low manner.- she says walking towards me and stopping a few centimeters from my body.

Y/n: Can I ask the reason for your night visit? - I ask her in a whisper, since we are really close and there is no need to speak very loudly.

Sarah: I wanted to see how you were doing, I was worried when Topper started hitting you and I wanted to make sure you were okay. - She answers me in a whisper, placing the palms of her hands on my chest and sticking as close to my body as possible.

Y/n: I think you can tell for yourself if I'm okay or not.- I whisper, placing my hands on her waist.

Sarah: I see that you are very well.- she assures in a whisper, and then lowers his gaze to my bare chest and bites her plump lip.

I can only swallow hard, feeling nervous at her closeness and the feel of her soft hands against my chest. My heart races as I look into her beautiful eyes, noticing the chocolate brown color and slightly dilated pupils.

My hands move along her waist, stopping at her lower back and feeling the softness of the fabric of her dress. She presses herself even closer against my body, moving her hands from my chest to my neck and clasping her hands behind my neck.

She starts leaning towards me and I just imitate her action, leaning forward and finishing joining our lips. At first we do not move our lips, but a few moments later we begin to move them calmly and without taking it any further.

Her lips feel plump, soft and warm against mine. The kiss is calm and is just a movement of the lips; without language or intentions to be deeper.

When we break away from the kiss, I see the smile on her face and I'm sure I have the same smile on my face.

Sarah POV

I see his smile and I can't stop my heart from racing even more. I can feel the warmth of his body against mine. I put my hands in his hair, stroking his short dark brown hair and smiling into his eyes.

Y/n: What time do you have to go home? - he asks in a whisper, caressing my lower back over my dress.

Sarah: Are you already kicking me out? - I ask pretending to be offended.

Y/n: You know I'm not, but I just wanted to ask you and know how long you can stay with me.- he whispers with a small pout, looking somewhere between cute and hard from the bruises.

Sarah: I don't have to go home.- I respond, biting my lip. -My father thinks I'm at my friend's house, so I don't have to go home and he doesn't have to know I'm here.- I assure him with a smile.

Y/n: Is this your way of saying you want to sleep here? - he asks with an amused smile.

Sarah: I accept the proposal. - I say amused, leaving a small kiss on his lips and leaving his private bathroom afterwards.

Y/n: I didn't invite you.- he comments amused, walking behind me and laughing.

Sarah: You can't withdraw the offer now.- I say sitting on the bed and crossing my legs.

Y/n: Do you need clothes to sleep in or do you prefer to take off that beautiful dress and that's it? - he asks amused, standing in front of me and crossing his arms.

Sarah: Some clothes would be good.- I respond with a smile.

He walks to his closet, pulling out a baggy blue tie-dye t- shirt and gray sweat shorts. But I just grab the shirt and go back to the bathroom, closing the door behind me. I change my clothes, leaving me only in the shirt that he left me; which reaches just below my butt and my panties.

When I go out to the room, the only light is on a camp lamp and Y/n is already lying in bed. I get in next to him quickly, moving closer to his body and placing my head on his chest.

Y/n: Goodnight princess.- he whispers against my forehead, leaving a kiss on the spot and hugging me to his body.

Sarah: Good night, idiot. - I respond a little amused, settling myself more against his body and closing my eyes.

I feel the beat of his heart against the palm of my hand, as well as the heat of his body against my hand and face, as well as his scent flooding my nostrils. All of it surrounds me and that makes my body relax immediately. So in less than two minutes I am completely asleep and in another world.

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